Fettering Shadows: A Jake Dalton Investigation

by Amy Shannon

  Can’t enter yet. Just not yet. He was tempted to look around the yard, but he didn’t wanna leave his boot prints. He was just gathering more information about Robinson, and he needed proof. He needed to find where any missing girls were, and where he buried the rest of the body parts. Any of the parts found would be the evidence he needed to put this guy away, but also allow the families to bury their loved ones whole.

  He slowly walked toward the front of the house, shining his light in the windows. He noticed that the rooms he could see, such as a dining room, living room and kitchen, through the windows on the side of the house, had minimal furniture. He could see a closed door in the kitchen, and a closed door off the living room. He wasn’t sure if they were bathrooms, closets, or a door that lead to the basement.

  He walked around the front of the house, and walked up the steps to the front porch. He kneeled in front of the front door, and peered through the mail slot. He had a new vantage point, and could see the bare wood steps that led upstairs. There was an entryway that led into the living room, and then a doorway, which he figured led to the dining room and kitchen. He made a mental sketch of Robinson's house in his head. He was curious about the layout of the upstairs, but he didn’t wanna risk entering the house.

  As he was walking down the steps of the porch, the upstairs light turned on and peered through its window. He walked in the shadows of the trees and houses, toward the sidewalk. He walked down the sidewalk, still in the shadows, when he noticed the sign on the yard of a neighboring home, For Sale. Virtual Tours available. He quickly grabbed one of the fliers out of the sleeve on the sign, shoving it into his pocket. He figured that most of the houses on the street had a similar layout, since it was a housing development. That information may or may not be important later, but better to be on the positive side. He turned and set his sights back on the house, as he walked backwards toward his truck, across the street. He walked around the back of his truck, and watched the house, as he got in the truck.

  The light in the upstairs shut off, and the light from the entry way turned on a few minutes later. The light shined lightly through the thin windows that were on each side of the plain white door. Then, the door opened, and Robinson, wearing a gray hoodie and black jeans, with red sneakers, walked out, carrying a rucksack over his shoulder. He closed the front door of his home, and headed down the porch. He stopped and looked down his driveway, and then focused on his destination. He walked toward the sidewalk, and kept walking down his street.

  Jake got out of his truck, quietly, grabbing his go-bag, and stayed in the shadows of the trees and at least 100-yards behind Robinson. He needed to see where this man was headed this time a night. He wondered why Robinson was in the dark for only an hour after watching Aggie’s home, and then he headed out again. He continued to follow Robinson, down his road, but instead of turning on to the footbridge, he went straight toward the vehicle bridge a quarter mile away. Once he got off the vehicle bridge, he continued until he ended up on Main Street.

  Jake followed him back to his own agency. His own house. Robinson stood across the street from the agency and Jake’s home, leaning his back against the Baxter BBQ Ribs Restaurant. Jake stayed in the shadows, watching and waiting. He never thought it would bring him back to his own home, and wondered if he did it the night he lost him. So, he waited.

  Robinson took his cell phone out of his pocket and aimed it toward the agency, and snapped a few photos. He then focused on Jake’s empty driveway. After about an hour outside the restaurant, he turned and headed down Main Street. He walked, with Jake following, toward the last road before entering Route 55. He walked down the road until he ended up at the boarded up clinic.

  Jake noticed that there was no police presence, and wondered if Sully or the local LEOs even checked it out. He didn’t have time now to text Sully, he had to focus. Robinson came back to the scene of the crime. He still wasn’t sure why referred to this clinic as the Jones Psychiatric Clinic. It was an old urgent care and free clinic. Clarksville Clinic.

  Robinson knocked on the front door of the clinic, and to Jake’s surprise, it opened. The person who opened the door was only visible by his or her arm, and it was only lit by the dim streetlights. Robinson entered the building and closed the door behind him. He’s got an accomplice. Is it a murderous accomplice, or a stalker accomplice, or both? Is there a dominant, and if so, who is it, and which one is the dominant? The question flooded his mind, but he couldn’t deal with the unknown yet. He walked around the building, quietly, to see if there was any way he could see inside the old clinic. He walked around to the back of the clinic, and noticed the yellow police tape was still in place, surrounding the crime scene. Down the alley, past the dumpster and recycling bin, were more rubbish bins. He noticed a black truck parked behind a red truck.

  He found his way toward the back door, boarded up, but the nails protruded from the board. It had been wedged open and used recently. He walked around the other side of the one floor brick building, trying to find a place where he might be able to hear inside, but there was no opening. He needed to get inside, but he couldn’t do that yet. He didn’t know who or what would be waiting for him inside, and if there were more than the two that he could confirm.

  He walked around to the front of the building again, and looked up the dead end road at all the cars that were parked on the opposite side of the street. He wrote down all the license plate numbers, to investigate later. He found a tree stump on the opposite side of the street, within the bushes. He was able to sit and yet get a clear view of the old clinic. He couldn’t see any lights coming from the boards that covered the windows or doors. He watched and waited. Waited for anything. He waited for several hours, even as the sun started to rise in the east. He moved back into the shadows of the bushes, and looked at his watch when the door finally opened. It was six AM.

  He waited until Robinson left the clinic, but this time, he was wearing a maintenance uniform. Blue pants. Blue shirt with his name patched on the front of the lapel. He still carried his rucksack on his shoulder. He walked down the road toward Main Street and then stood at the bus stop on the corner.

  Jake had a decision to make. He could either follow him or wait until the next person came out of the building. He hated assuming, but it looked like after a long night at this clinic, Robinson was heading to work. He wasn’t sure if it were the hospital or the clinic, but he could check on that later.

  Jake decided to wait to see who else came out of the building, then he would go and get his truck. It was a long night indeed. He watched as Robinson got on the bus that stopped at 6:23 AM at the bus stop. Metro Transit Bus 469.

  Jake was familiar with the two bus routes of Clarksville. Metro Transit Bus 469 had hourly runs between Clarksville and Camden, with stops in between, including the county buildings. Metro Transit Bus 480 only ran six times a day, between Clarksville, Camden, and continued to Lorentown, and then back again. Robinson was headed to Camden.

  As soon as Metro Transit Bus 469 pulled away from the stop, the door to the clinic opened again. He wore a black baseball cap, with no logo, and also a blue maintenance uniform. Jake recognized this man from his photo. Reid Morrison. The friend of John Lawrence Smythe. He wondered if Smythe was in the clinic as well, but if he was, why would he point Jake in Robinson’s direction? It was the lead from Smythe that gave him Robinson, and even Morrison’s name. Lou Fisher gave him the rest of the maintenance staff names. He already ruled out Fisher, and Smythe, but he could be wrong.

  Morrison walked behind the clinic, and Jake decided to not follow him. A few minutes later, he heard a truck’s engine rev up and then tires running over gravel. He wasn’t sure if Morrison drove the red truck or the black truck, or maybe another vehicle that wasn’t in his sight.

  Jake walked out of the bushes, yawning slightly, but he kept his eyes on the clinic door. He stood outside the door, and knocked. He waited. He wondered if anyone would open the door. No one did. He put his hand
on the knob, and pulled, and it opened. He pulled his gun out of his holster, and aimed it downward. He walked inside the clinic and closed the door behind him.

  25

  Jake took a deep breath and covered his mouth, with his hand as the stench of stale air and garbage from the inside of the building hit him in the face. The air had a lingering hint of copper, almost emanating from the walls. He walked through the old waiting room, toward the broken down reception desk. To the right of the desk, was the restroom, with the door off the hinges, exposing the empty toilets and broken sinks.

  He slowly walked down the corridor and peered inside the first old examination room. There wasn’t a door on the hinges, but it was completely dark, as the boarded up window didn’t allow for a sliver of light. He held his flashlight over his weapon as he aimed. The light hit the walls, wallpapered in photos. Photos of Aggie. He stepped back out of the room, when he heard a muffled noise. He quickly started opening doors of the examination rooms that had doors. He continued opening the doors, each room providing a surprise of filth, stench of antique blood and garbage. He looked down the hall, he had opened six doors, and there were four more to go. He put his hand on the knob of exam room 10. He slowly opened the door, and stared at the old examination table in the corner. She lay there, hogtied on her stomach. Her hair covering her face. Jake aimed his light around the room, searching for a perpetrator, or anything that could put him and this woman in more harm’s way.

  He placed his flashlight in his mouth, shining it down on the woman, and held his gun tightly in his grip, as he reached under her hair and felt for a pulse. She whimpered as he cut away the bindings, well away from the knots that tied the ropes together. He slowly turned her head toward him, moving her hair out of her face. “Jan?” he whispered, through the confines of the flashlight.

  Her dull eyes looked up at Jake. “Mary,” she whispered. “Where’s Mary?”

  Jake holstered his weapon, and took off his jacket, covering her body. “Don’t move. I’ll call for help,” he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket flipped it open. He dialed 9-1-1. “This is Jake Dalton. I need an ambulance and sheriff’s officers at ten forty-three Addison Boulevard. There’s an officer down, and one is currently missing. I need additional back up. I’ve no idea if there are more assailants in the building. CSU also needs to be called.”

  “Sir, is this a joke?” the dispatcher asked.

  “Call Sheriff Olsen. Get him here now. This is not a joke, and I know y’all have some protocol to screw with me when I call, but a detective has been assaulted and her partner is currently missing. I need an ambulance right away.” Jake pressed the end call button, and redialed. “Sully? Where the hell are you?” he yelled at Sully’s voice mail. He looked down at Jan. “Do you know where they took Mary or how many there were?”

  “Two or three, I think, I’m not sure. We ..,” she gulped heavily. “What the hell did he do to me?” she looked down at her abused body, covered with his coat.

  “Just relax. As soon as help gets here, I’ll see if I can find her. I know of two men that were just here,” he explained, patting her hand lightly. “You’ll be all right.”

  “Hurts,” she whispered.

  Jake opened his phone again, walking toward the doorway, and dialed. “Brennan, it’s me. I need your help.”

  “Of course, sir,” he yawned lightly. “What can I do?”

  “I’m at the old clinic on Addison, but my truck is still parked down the road from Robinson’s home. Can you ...”

  “I’ll go get it for you. Do you want me to bring it to you?”

  “Yes, please. If you haveta take a cab or somethin’, I need it soon. My extra set of keys are in my top drawer of my desk.”

  “I’ll do that right now. I finished running all those reports you wanted last night.”

  “Thanks. I’ll need some more information on Reid Morrison, too, and how he's connected to Robinson.”

  “Oh, all right. I’ll run that. Uh, sir, Ranger Sullivan is sitting outside the agency right now.”

  “All right. Just bring me my truck, and some coffee. I’ll be here a while. It’s a crime scene now.”

  “No sleep, huh?”

  “Not yet,” he pressed the end call key. He was about to dial Aggie’s number when the sirens wailing got closer to the clinic’s door. “Down here,” he called to the EMTs rolling a gurney toward him, followed by four sheriff’s officers. “Detective Jan Rogers,” he pointed in the room. He looked at the officers. “Detective Mary Leroy is missing, but may still be in the building. I didn’t wanna leave Jan.”

  “Yes, sir. Sheriff Olsen is outside, waiting for you.” Officer Halloway pointed down the corridor.

  “Thank you,” he nodded, walking down the hall toward the outside. “Sheriff,” he took a deep breath and walked over to the building. “I need to call Aggie before we talk.”

  “She’s on her way here. I called her. I didn’t know if we’d have more bodies here,” Nels said, as Aggie’s car pulled on the side of the road. “How’d ya know?”

  “I was following my suspect,” Jake explained as the EMTs wheeled Jan out of the building. “Hold on,” he walked over to her and the EMT handed him back his jacket. “Jan, you hang on, OK?”

  “Thanks, Jake. Did they find Mary yet?”

  Jake looked at the EMT, who shook his head. “They’re still looking.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can to find her,” Jake nodded. “Take her now,” he looked at Nels. “You should add a guard to her room.”

  “I’ve already assigned one,” he pointed to the squad car that pulled out behind the ambulance.

  “Good. So, I followed him all night. Then, he ended up here. He was here with at least one other man. If there are others, I didn’t see them.”

  “Jake, ya gotta give me somethin’.”

  “Arlo Robinson. He’s Aggie’s stalker,” he admitted as Aggie joined the two of them. “I followed him to his house from outside of Aggie’s,” he put his arm gently around Aggie, hoping she’d accept, and she did. “We know he’s her stalker. Room one of this place shows photos he took. I saw his backyard, and it’s kinda hinkey. Sheriff, I followed him on foot to the rib joint across from my agency, and he stood there for a while, taking snapshots with his phone, and then he headed here. The door opened and he went inside. I didn’t know who the other person was until they left. Robinson took the 469 Metro bus at 6:23 AM. I decided not to follow. I waited ‘til I saw Reid Morrison leave the building. A few minutes later, I heard a truck drive away. That’s when I checked out the building. I didn’t touch anything, but I’m pretty sure they are killing people together.”

  Nels crossed his arms. “You called Ranger Sullivan last night.”

  “Yes, I told him to check out this building,” he watched as Ralph pulled on the side of the road with his truck.

  “Why this building?”

  “Some evidence pointed to this building. I was trying to see a connection between the locations where the torsos were left. There were a few, including the purple fliers. Sully had one that was delivered to my office, but Brennan went through all the fliers and found ones that matched this location,” he waved to Ralph to join them. “Brennan, was Sully there when you left?”

  “Yes, he didn’t say a word to me. He’s sitting on the sidewalk outside of the agency. I don’t know if he’s sleeping or just sitting there,” he handed a cup holder with three cups of coffee to Jake. “For the three of you,” he nodded.

  “Thank you.” Jake looked at Nels. “Coffee?”

  Aggie and Nels took their cups of coffee. “Thank you,” Aggie said to Ralph.

  “All right. Go get us breakfast at the bakery and a fresh pot, and I’ll meet you at the office soon. Make copies of the fliers and prepare the originals for the police.”

  “Yes, sir,” he sighed. “I’ll be there,” he walked away from the crowd.

  “He’s working out?” Nels asked.

  “Yes, he’s good at w
hat he does. He’s been a big help to me. I didn’t know I needed help ‘til he was there.”

  “So, Jake, you know you need to leave the rest of this to the police, don’t you?”

  “Well, you deal with the murders. I gave you your suspects. I still need to close my stalking case,” Jake watched as a black Tahoe with white and blue government license plates. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.”

  Nels and Aggie watched as Jake approached the man and older woman who got out of the Tahoe. Jake shook both of their hands. The older woman wore a black skirt, white blouse, and comfortable black shoes. Her blazer was draped over her arm, and her gold FBI badge was pinned to her waistband. “Dina, thanks for the back up.”

  “This is Special Agent Lawrence Summers. He specializes in serial killers.”

  “Well, I’ve got two suspects. I know they attacked one detective and another is still missing. They may need your help. I also think that there needs to be a search on Robinson’s home, and probably Morrison’s, too.”

  “Introduce me to the sheriff,” Dina smiled, as she and Summers followed Jake.

  “Sheriff, SSA Dina Jennings and this is Special agent Summers. I reckon we all need help on this one.” Jake said.

  “We found somethin’,” a man’s voice yelled from inside.

  Jake looked at Dina. “You two should work with Olsen. I’ll stay outta the way. I haveta get back to the office.”

  “I’ll get you a warrant,” Dina said. “Robinson’s home, right?”

  “Yes, and soon, I’m gonna have a little chat with him, before y’all take him away or whatever.”

  Dina, Nels, and Summers walked into the building.

  “You’re gonna talk to him?” Aggie asked.

  “I haveta close the case, and I know that he’s your stalker. Did you bring the tapes?”

  “They’re in my car. I’ll give you them now,” she said, as they both walked toward her car. She pulled out a bag on the front seat. “Jake, is this over?”