Full Tilt

by Rick Mofina

  “They were our happiest times—birthdays, Christmases, family trips, just being together.” Kate recalled moments with Vanessa and their mom and dad leading to the point when her mother gave her and Vanessa each a necklace with a guardian angel charm. Brennan had cleared Kate to talk about it and a photograph of a necklace appeared on the screen. “That’s not it, but we each got one like it.”

  “That necklace was a key link to this case, but we’re jumping ahead,” Betty Lynne said. “Tragically, it was shortly after your mother gave you the guardian angels that your parents were killed in a hotel fire and you and Vanessa were orphaned. How old were you?”

  “I was seven and Vanessa was four.” Kate touched the corners of her eyes. “That was so hard for us. After it happened we lived with relatives, then in foster homes.”

  “And it was while you were with foster parents on a trip to the Canadian Rockies that you lost Vanessa and your foster parents in that terrible crash. That must’ve been horrible for you. What do you remember of that time?”

  Those tragic moments were part of the fabric of Kate’s being. She recounted details as if she were experiencing them up to the moment Vanessa’s hand slipped from hers; how she’d coped with years of having to accept that Vanessa had drowned and was gone forever.

  “But deep down you didn’t accept it. You’d always believed that somehow, some way, your sister survived,” Betty Lynne said. “And you never gave up looking for her.”

  “No, because her body was never found. In my heart I always felt that she’d survived and I started searching for her. It was one of the reasons I became a reporter. If she survived, I was going to find her. I looked for her in the faces of strangers on the street. I did everything I could to find her.”

  Age-progressed photos of Vanessa on missing persons posters, social media pages and other online sites appeared on the screen.

  “It turned out you were right and your work paid off, when your sister’s necklace surfaced at the crime scene in Rampart, New York, and later the FBI used your DNA to compare with DNA found at one of the crime scenes to prove Vanessa had been there so she couldn’t have drowned in the river.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, we’re going to take a short break and when we return, Kate will tell us how she broke this case wide-open and put the FBI on Sorin Zurrn’s trail.”

  Theme music played; a crew member counted them out and Betty Lynne touched Kate’s shoulder.

  “You’re doing great, Kate, thank you.”

  As Betty Lynne turned for a makeup adjustment, Kate checked her phone, which she’d kept on silent mode. The show had wanted her to switch it off, but she’d insisted on keeping it on for any developments in the case. Kate scrolled through several supportive messages from former colleagues in Ohio. Others were from people at Newslead. Her brow creased when she came upon one that she didn’t recognize.

  I’m watching you. I have information about the case. I’ll be in touch.

  A little uneasy, Kate took a breath as a shadow crossed in front of her.

  “I’m just going to neaten your hair, Kate.” The makeup woman used the end of a comb to shift a few fallen strands. “There.”

  Music played and the break ended.

  As they resumed, Kate told Betty Lynne how discoveries at Rampart led her to the case of Tara Dawn Mae, the little girl who’d vanished from a truck stop at Brooks, Alberta, Canada.

  “What did you learn when you went to Canada?”

  As Kate related the history of Fiona and Barton Mae, pictures of Tara Dawn were put up next to those of Vanessa, including one where both were wearing the necklace, which had been enlarged in separate photos.

  “Unbelievable,” Betty Lynne said. “And a few years later, tragedy struck again when Tara Dawn vanished from the highway truck stop near the Maes’ farm?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your relentless journalistic digging yielded the lead that pointed to Jerome Fell in Denver, who turned out to be Sorin Zurrn from Chicago, who was living as Carl Nelson in Rampart, New York, and was behind the crimes there, and in Minnesota, according to the FBI.”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you tell our viewers how you did that?”

  As Kate elaborated, she saw a studio crew member flagging Betty Lynne to the time remaining.

  “Kate, before we close, do you have anything that you’d like to say?”

  “Yes, my sister has been in captivity for at least fifteen years. During that time, she transformed from a girl to a woman. I cannot imagine her nightmare existence. We’re asking if anyone knows anything about this case to call police. Sorin Zurrn, if you’re watching me now…”

  Kate’s composure slipped and the camera moved in for a closer shot.

  “Sorin, if you’re watching…before you met Vanessa, she’d already suffered more than any child should have to bear. I’ve discovered some things about your life. I know that you suffered, too. You’ve already shown the world by what you’ve done just how smart you are. Show everyone how powerful you really are by giving Vanessa her life back.” Tears rolled down Kate’s face. “Please, I’m begging you, Sorin.”

  The show closed the segment in silence and went to commercial.

  “Thank you, Kate.” Betty Lynne blinked back tears as crew members came to Kate. One started unclipping her microphone while the makeup woman passed her a tissue.

  “That was extremely moving, Kate. Thank you for being on our show,” one of the senior producers said. “We’ll have someone go with you to the car, if you like.”

  Before leaving the studio Kate stopped off at a restroom, splashed water on her face. Then she took out her phone and responded to her anonymous message.

  Who are you? What information do you have?

  An assistant walked Kate to the street where a driver opened the rear door of a polished black sedan. The car service was waiting to take her to Newslead, as had been arranged. Kate got in and buckled up.

  As the car pulled into Midtown traffic Kate’s phone rang. It was Grace.

  “Hi, sweetie.”

  “I saw you on TV, Mom. It made me sad.”

  “It made me sad, too.”

  “But maybe it will help us find Aunt Vanessa.”

  “That’s what we’re praying for. Now, hurry up. Don’t be late for school. We’ll get a pizza tonight if you want, or we can ask Nancy if she’d like to go out somewhere nice with us.”

  “Okay, I’ll ask her. I love you, bye.”

  “Love you too, bye.”

  After the call, Kate searched her messages for a response from her anonymous tipster. There were many messages from friends who’d seen her on Today. Chuck wrote: You did great! While Reeka said: It looked good but not once did they say you worked for Newslead. Kate also received interview requests from USA Today, the Wall Street Journal and ABC News, but nothing from the anonymous messenger.

  She searched news sites for updates on the case. Nothing was happening. Watching Manhattan roll by, Kate rested her head on the high-backed seat. These past few days of her life had been a surreal blur. But she couldn’t stop. She had to go full tilt until she found Vanessa.

  One way or another I will find you, I swear.

  “Miss?”

  Kate surfaced from her thoughts to the sounds of the street. They’d arrived. The car was parked in front of the building where Newslead was headquartered. The driver was holding the car door open for her.

  “Yes, sorry.” She reached into her bag and her wallet. She put a twenty in the driver’s hand.

  Kate stepped toward the entrance but stopped upon seeing a man staring at her. His back was against the building. He had short, slicked-back hair, a stubbled beard, dark glasses and an untucked denim shirt under his leather jacket.

  “Viper? I mean, Eri
ch?”

  “There’s something you need to see. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 62

  New York City

  “Yes, I messaged you anonymously when you were on the show,” Erich told Kate as they stood in line for a booth.

  “Why so cryptic? You scared me.”

  “I had to get your attention and I had to be careful.”

  “What do I need to see, Erich?”

  “Wait till we sit down.”

  They had walked three blocks east to the Wyoming Diner, a classic eatery wrapped in battered chrome-and-blue trim. TVs were suspended at each end of the dining room, where every booth and stool was taken. The midmorning breakfast crowd was still thick with commuters from Penn Station. Ten minutes passed before a spot opened up. Erich ordered whole wheat toast and tomato juice, Kate got a bagel and water.

  She welcomed the din of the busy diner. It made it hard to hear and insured a measure of privacy as Erich leaned to Kate.

  “Are you familiar with shock sites?”

  “That’s where freaks and people with fetishes post gross stuff online.”

  “The content is obscene, vulgar and so graphic it’s often illegal.”

  “There’re some notorious ones,” Kate said.

  Two women at a booth nearby were looking at them and talking. They were too far away to hear through the noise but seemed interested in Kate.

  “Some of these sites have their own subcultures,” Erich said. “And in some cases the sites are gateways to others that are far worse.”

  “What’re you getting at?”

  “I found something alarming on one of them.”

  As Erich reached for his phone, a woman materialized at their table. She looked to be in her midfifties.

  “Excuse me,” she said to Kate, who, as she turned to the woman, accidentally knocked her bag from her seat to the floor.

  “I’ll get that for you,” Erich leaned over and reached under the table to retrieve Kate’s bag.

  “Yes?” Kate said to the woman.

  “My friend couldn’t help but notice—” the woman nodded to one of the TVs “—but weren’t you just on the Today show? You’re looking for your long-lost sister who’s caught up in the big serial killer case?”

  “Yes.”

  “We just want you to know that we’re praying for you and your sister.”

  “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

  “Would you mind—” the woman waved over her friend “—if we got our picture taken with you?”

  “I don’t think it would be appropria—”

  “Please, it’ll just be a sec, here.” She passed her phone to Erich. “I’m sure this nice young man would take it for us?”

  The two women got up close to Kate and Erich took the picture. The women thanked them and left. When Kate and Erich were alone again, Erich brought out his phone.

  “So what is it?” Kate asked. “What did you find?”

  “There’s a site, hidden under layers of others, that purports to host videos of actual amputations, decapitations, cruelties of anything you can imagine.”

  Kate said nothing.

  “Lately there’s been a lot of hype about a series of postings called ‘Scenes from the Kill Jar.’ A kill jar is used in the collection of insects, like butterflies—”

  “Butterflies?”

  “Kate, it looks like Zurrn has been posting video recordings of some of his murders and tortures of women.”

  Their food arrived. Kate glanced at Erich’s glass, nearly glowing red with tomato juice.

  “Kate, you asked me to help you. I know these are some of the most graphic images you could ever view, but do you want to see them? I have about six minutes. It’s hard to tell, but I think he made your sister watch his work.”

  Kate hesitated as her mind reeled. As a journalist she’d seen horrible things. And as a journalist it was her job to gather and see all the facts for her work. As Vanessa’s sister, Kate accepted that if she was to understand what she’d endured, looking at the video was something she must do.

  I’m sure Zurrn never gave her the chance to look away.

  Kate stared at Erich’s phone and the earphones he held out.

  “Okay.”

  Erich cued up the video, set the volume and passed his phone to Kate. The clarity, sharpness and sound were extremely high quality. Tears filled her eyes as she realized what she was seeing, hearing and feeling. By the time it ended she was drained and overwhelmed with violation and outrage.

  “Pretty bad,” Erich said.

  Kate swallowed and brushed at her tears before pushing her food aside.

  “I can make you a copy to have for your research.”

  Kate nodded.

  “Kate, I know this is disturbing but it’s a good thing. It’s a key lead. I’ve arranged for copies and information to be sent to every police agency on the task force looking for Zurrn. You can bet the FBI is searching for the trail to Zurrn. And there are protocols I can run to try to track Zurrn down. It brings us a step closer to him.”

  “It also brings my sister closer to death.”

  CHAPTER 63

  Somewhere in the United States

  Vanessa rocked gently in and out of consciousness, lost in a black chasm of dull, lethargic awareness.

  She was on the floor of a moving vehicle, feeling the drone of its wheels, the rhythmic sway of its suspension. She was under a tarp.

  No longer in the box—the casket.

  I’m groggy. Carl drugged me. He drugs me whenever he’s transferring me—or preparing something bad—so I can’t resist.

  Where are we? What’s he doing?

  The vehicle jerked, triggering a sudden heavy clank of metal. Like tools and equipment.

  Oh, God, this is it!

  Vanessa’s mind swirled with fear and emotion. She had no sense of direction, no sense of time. How many days has it been since she’d escaped and was recaptured? Maybe she was sleeping, dreaming?

  Why did he take me out of the casket? Where’s the casket?

  Fear swelled inside her until she forced herself to become calm, to relax, to find her favorite memories and hang on to them.

  I’m in a park on a swing with my big sister. Mom and Dad are pushing us and my tummy tickles like I’m flying—it feels so good I scream.

  The vehicle slowed to a crawl.

  The road under the wheels had become soft, silent, like well-kept grass.

  Where are we?

  Calm washed over her in waves—the drugs—she wanted to sleep. No, don’t sleep. Be aware. Try to escape. But her head was so heavy.

  They stopped.

  The transmission shifted, the motor switched off.

  A slight sway and a door opened, then air rushed in as other doors were opened. Tools knocked together. He’s moving things, equipment, grunting as he lifts things, then humming as he works nearby.

  In the quiet she heard crickets and nothing else.

  “Okay,” Carl said. “I think we’re ready.”

  A moment later the tarp was pulled away and Carl’s hands slipped under her as he lifted her, and in an instant she saw what awaited her. A steel casket, its lid yawning, was positioned atop an open grave on a casket-lowering device. As Carl carried her to it, her screams were stifled by tape he’d put around her mouth. She struggled in vain as he placed her in the coffin and secured her inside with chains. He taped her wrists, fastened clips to her fingers and something to her body.

  “Listen to me—shh-shh—listen. I’m going to remove the tape from your mouth so you can breathe easier, okay? No more noise or the tape goes back. Nod if you agree.”

  She nodded. He removed the tape and she drank in fresh air.
<
br />   “Please, Carl,” she whispered. “Don’t do this, please!”

  “Shh-shh. I’ve customized this. I’ve installed an oxygen tank with a meter, a ventilator to keep your carbon dioxide level low. You’ll have a light and instructions. Once I set things in motion, you’ll have a little more than four hours, if you don’t struggle and use up oxygen quickly. Do you understand?”

  No, she didn’t understand. How could she understand his cruelty?

  “Do you understand?”

  She gave him a weak, terrified nod.

  “Good. I’m sorry but it’s all for the best. You really were my favorite.” He looked at her, absorbing her. “I chose this specific spot because of its history. In a few hours you and I will be the most famous people on earth. You’ll be immortalized. People will realize who I really am and they will revere me.”

  Carl shut the lid and darkness swallowed Vanessa.

  She felt the scrape of the chains as he locked them. She heard him turn the crank handle, release the brake, then the gears began clicking on the device as the casket descended slowly into the grave.

  Several moments later it ceased with a soft thud.

  Then came the sound of dirt raining on the lid. It was steady before it faded, grew muffled, then died away.

  CHAPTER 64

  New York City

  Is my sister dead?

  The question hammered at Kate as she showered.

  It had been a week since Minneapolis and nothing on Vanessa’s location had surfaced. No leads on where she was, nothing but the anguish of knowing that for a burning moment she had been alive and free to save a young girl before Zurrn clawed her back into hell.

  After Kate got dressed she got Grace off to school. Nancy, who’d been a saint through all of this, would pick her up and take her to a sleepover at her friend Hayley’s because Kate planned to work late.

  On the subway, Kate was haunted by the images from the shock site videos. Brennan had assured her that the FBI and other police agencies on the task force were going all out trying to track them, but so far they had nothing.