Faces of Evil [1] Obsession

by Debra Webb

  But that wasn’t going to stop her from asking. “Chief Patterson is going to make a statement shortly.” Dan hoped it would be soon. “That’s all I can give you, Gina.” He held up his hands. “You know the drill.”

  She smiled, the smile that had captured his attention the first time they met in a situation not unlike this one. “I appreciate that. But you’re Birmingham’s chief of police. Your citizens want to hear from you.”

  Oh, she was good. That she had the look and attitude of a runway model had gotten her a long ways but her skill at getting the story had launched her to the top and kept her there. “Ms. Coleman, I can tell you this. If you come by my office around noon I’ll give you an exclusive scoop on a possible break in the case. You have my word.”

  There went that smile again. “I’ll be there.”

  He had about nine hours to figure a way to give her something that would satisfy her insatiable appetite for the breaking story. It never hurt to have an ally in the media, no matter that their personal differences would never permit anything other than a professional relationship. That seemed to be his life story.

  Dan walked back to the SUV, surprised that Jess hadn’t stuck her head out the window and demanded that he get his ass in gear.

  “Take your time. It’s not like we’re in a hurry or anything,” she complained as he settled into the driver’s seat.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Dan started the engine.

  “Who was that reporter?” Jess twisted in her seat to get another look at the woman in question as Dan backed out of the driveway. “I thought Patterson was making a statement. Why were you talking to her?”

  Was that mere curiosity or jealousy he heard in her voice? Oh yeah, now there was a thought. He’d definitely gone too long without sleep. “Gina Coleman, channel six. She’s the hottest television reporter in Birmingham right now. We need her on our side.”

  Jess made a sound that boasted her low regard for his explanation. “Does she have any other talents besides being hot?”

  Now that definitely sounded like jealousy. He stole a peek at his passenger as he guided the SUV between the dozens of vehicles gathered on the street. “She has many talents.”

  “I’ll bet she does,” Jess muttered. “I was thinking,” she said as if she’d just cast Gina out of her head and was on to more important subject matter. “We should find out what’s on this phone and how it impacts the case before we pass along the discovery to Patterson. It may be nothing. No need to get him all worked up for nothing.”

  “He won’t like it.”

  “He’s a big boy, he can take it.”

  She was right about that. If finding that phone got them a step closer to finding one or more of those girls, Dan would dance on Patterson’s toes any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

  ~*~

  Birmingham Regional Lab, 3:45 a.m.

  “It’s a one of those pay as you go phones.” The young forensics expert wore a rumpled shirt that wasn’t buttoned properly and ragged blue jeans. “You know, prepaid. They’re all over the place. We probably won’t be able to track down who bought and activated it, unless they actually used their real name and address. But we can snatch the call, text, whatever history between this phone and others from the carrier.”

  Jess heaved a sigh. “But that takes time.” And a subpoena, she didn’t bother pointing out. All the calls and texts and contacts had been deleted from the cheap phone. Probably in case Reanne’s parents found it.

  “Definitely,” Vernon agreed.

  After picking up a car charger at a Tuscaloosa Wal-Mart, Jess had charged the cell phone on the way here. Burnett had called in a favor and gotten Ricky Vernon, an electronics forensic expert, to meet them at Birmingham’s Lab. Technically Vernon was a forensic biologist, but he’d taught himself the other. Jess decided he was like her; he needed a real hobby.

  “I have a SIM card recovery product, that depending upon the network and how the info was deleted, I might be able to retrieve the last fifteen or twenty calls, text messages and some of the contacts.”

  “That would be great.” If Jess weren’t so utterly drained she would hug the guy and fix his buttons. The need to find a break in this case was all that kept her upright after little or no sleep for way too long. She hadn’t slept more than an hour here and there in days. Don’t think about it. Complete focus on this case was paramount.

  “Give me a few minutes and we’ll see what we get.”

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Vernon.”

  He gifted her with another of those lopsided smiles. For a twenty-something geek who’d been rousted out of bed at three o’clock in the morning he was incredibly amiable.

  That word, however, did not describe Chief Patterson. She watched Burnett pace the corridor on the other side of the glass wall that separated them. He’d gotten a call from Patterson about the time they arrived at the lab and the two had been talking since. Judging by the grim face Burnett wore, it was a monumental battle with no peace treaty in sight.

  “Here we go.”

  Jess scooted her chair closer to Vernon’s. “Any calls, specifically in the last week of June?”

  He shook his head. “Only text messages. Here.” He passed her the phone. “You can read them.”

  ICW

  I <3 U

  SYS F2F

  4ever

  She hated text language. What the hell did any of this mean? Frustrated, she handed the phone back to him. “Why don’t you read it to me?”

  “Yeah, texting is a whole language of its own.”

  Why couldn’t people just communicate in English? Real English.

  “The user of this phone sent a text saying I can’t wait.” Vernon flicked a key with his thumb. “Received one, I love you. Sent, see you soon face to face. Received, forever.” His gaze connected with hers. “That’s all there is.”

  As numb as Jess felt from the sheer mental and physical exhaustion of the past few days, anticipation roared through her. “She intended to meet someone.”

  Vernon confirmed her statement with a nod.

  That changed everything. The possibilities of just how dramatically this changed the investigation spiraled wildly in her brain.

  “Can you determine when those messages were sent?” Her heart skipped a beat as he thumbed through the keys.

  “June 26th. That’s all we got. Nothing before or since.”

  A new rush of adrenalin launched her out of the chair. “What about the other number?” She shook herself, reached for calm. Had to think straight. “The number of the person she was communicating with. Can we find and trace that number to its owner?”

  “Roger that.” He scribbled on a note pad then tore off the page. “Here you go. The number and the contact name as it appears on this phone. I warn you that if it’s another prepaid phone, you may discover the owner’s info is stolen or made up. When a person doesn’t want to be tracked down, that’s what they do. It’s incredibly easy.”

  “Yeah,” Jess agreed. “Makes life a lot easier for drug dealers and terrorists.” She studied the note he’d given her. Tim. Her brow furrowed, no doubt making permanent wrinkles. Had she seen that name in the list of associates? She didn’t think so.

  “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Vernon.” She was backing toward the door as she spoke. The list of questions she needed to ask anyone who might have been close to Reanne—discounting her mother—stacked deeper and deeper.

  He flaunted another of those cute smiles. “Any time, Agent Harris.”

  Burnett was still on his cell. Jess paced the corridor as he had done. She was aware that he and Patterson still argued about something but she didn’t care about that right now. Reanne Parsons had a boyfriend. Tim. On the day she went missing they discussed meeting face to face, which might mean they had not met in person before.

  Trepidation mingled into the anticipation twisting in her chest. This discovery set Reanne apart from the others. Patterson wouldn’t like where that steered
this investigation in terms of her disappearance. It punched a massive hole in what Burnett, Patterson and Griggs believed had happened in this case.

  Jess needed to talk to Reanne’s associates at work. She didn’t have any real friends, according to her mother. But people talked at work. Jess was banking on human nature. It rarely failed her.

  “There won’t be an autopsy.”

  That was the problem with investigators. They sometimes failed to see what their minds wanted to overlook. Patterson knew these people. In his brain, an opinion already existed, which caused him to skip past certain possibilities.

  “Jess, did you hear what I said?”

  She didn’t realize Burnett was talking to her until he said her name. “What?” She shook her head, replayed the words he’d said. “No autopsy? Why not?” Wasn’t an autopsy SOP in an unaccompanied death of possible suspicious origin?

  “The coroner’s preliminary call is that the death was a suicide and the wife doesn’t want an autopsy. Patterson won’t push for it and that is his jurisdiction.”

  Well hell. “Can we at least get toxicology? Find out if he was on any undisclosed medications?”

  “SOP. We’ll have that in a couple of days with the rush Koerber is putting on getting this done.”

  “Good.” Jess held up the number Vernon had given her. “Reanne had a boyfriend or boyfriend candidate. The day she went missing she exchanged text messages with a Tim.” Jess briefed him on the details.

  “Harper can track down the name assigned to the number. See if it leads anywhere.” Burnett sent his detective a text that included the number. “Now.” He slid his phone into the holster he wore on his belt. “We are going to get some sleep.”

  Was he out of his mind? “I don’t want to sleep! This changes everything. I want to talk to her coworkers. Now.”

  “Jess, it’s four in the morning. People are still in bed. We should be in bed.”

  The last prompted a shiver. Jess was too tired to deal with her less intellectual side. Or maybe she was hung up on all the beautiful women who appeared to be a part of his life. Wells, his ex, the reporter who was so hot—his word. Maybe she did need sleep. One way or another she had to recoup her perspective.

  “We won’t be any good to anybody if we don’t get some sleep.”

  She held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll sleep at your office.” Surely there was a shower somewhere in the building. There hadn’t been time for one before the prayer service. A quick change of clothes had made them late as it was.

  “No you will not.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pointed her toward the exit. “You’ll sleep at my parents’ house and I’ll pick you up at eight-thirty.”

  “Eight-thirty?” She whirled on him. “Our task force meeting is at seven.”

  He was ushering her toward the exit again. She was too exhausted to put up a proper fight, verbal or otherwise. “Patterson and I rescheduled to nine considering we’ve been up all night. Now let’s go before I call him back and change it to ten.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine,” he echoed.

  She loaded into the passenger seat of his shiny Mercedes and buckled her seatbelt. There was too much to do to sleep. But she needed the whole team, including herself, sharp and ready if the job was going to get done right. Doing it alone was always a mistake. Something else she’d learned the hard way. Besides, the only thing sharp about her right now was the pain in her feet from these damned shoes.

  She almost drifted off as Dan drove across town. The city was asleep as he rolled through the quiet streets. The downtown lights reminded her of all the times they’d ridden through here in the middle of the night as crazy teenagers. He’d had that old convertible Thunderbird. She’d loved the feel of the wind in her hair and his arm around her. She’d been completely stupid. Sitting huddled up next to him, no seatbelts. It was a miracle they survived.

  She stole a glance at the man behind the wheel, all the way on the other side of the console. He didn’t drive that old T-Bird now. He drove a Mercedes. Wore his seatbelt and had the most prestigious cop job in the city. And lots of gorgeous lady friends.

  What would he think when he learned the truth about her?

  Jessie Harris. Almost former FBI. Former wife.

  Nobody.

  This case was all she had at the moment. She could not fail. Those girls were counting on her.

  For the first time in a very long time, Jess was counting on herself, alone, without the shroud of the Bureau and the career that had defined her for most of her adult life.

  Chapter Six

  7:00 a.m.

  Metal rattled against metal.

  Andrea jerked awake.

  Opening wide, the door’s hinges groaned. A dim light filtered into the room, but not enough to see more than the outline of the dumpy figure that entered. It was the woman. The man was taller and thinner.

  Her heart pounding, Andrea drew her knees to her chest and told herself over and over not to cry out…not to move. If the woman realized Andrea had managed to spit out most of the pill she’d forced her to take last night at feeding time she might punish her.

  A click split the silence and a flashlight’s blinding beam swept over the room. Andrea squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stop shaking. The other girls didn’t make a sound. Zombies.

  The one named Macy couldn’t explain what they had done to her when she’d been brought back last night. Tests, she had said. Andrea had shaken her hard and tried to snap her out of the drug haze but it hadn’t worked. She was too far gone. Andrea didn’t want to turn into a zombie like that. But she had to pretend or they would know.

  The light landed on her face.

  Don’t flinch. Relax. Pretend to be asleep.

  The smell of hot oatmeal invaded her nose.

  Morning. The light moved on to the next bunk. Another day had passed. A sob swelled in her throat. Andrea struggled to hold it back. How long had she been here? Why didn’t someone come to rescue them? Where were her parents? The police?

  “Which one?” he growled.

  The man had come in too but Andrea didn’t dare open her eyes to look.

  “That one.”

  The harsh command made Andrea jerk. At first she thought the woman meant her. But the squeak of rusty springs came from beneath her. They were taking the girl named Reanne. Andrea’s lips trembled. What would they do to her? Macy seemed okay. She’d come back clean, like they’d given her a bath, but totally zoned out.

  Reanne moaned.

  “Get up!” the man snapped.

  Andrea cracked her eyes open just far enough to see. The back glow from the flashlight allowed her to see the man as he dragged Reanne to her feet. He looked old like the woman, just taller and skinnier. Older than Andrea’s mom and dad. Older than Dan. But not much older. She pressed her lips together to hold back the fear. Her body trembled violently. These crazy people didn’t try to hide their faces. Did that mean they intended to keep them forever?

  Or…when they were done, would they kill them?

  “Time for your next test, Reanne,” the woman said. She clutched Reanne’s chin and shook her face. Reanne’s eyes opened, rolled drunkenly beneath the cruel glare of the light shining in her face. “If you fail, you’ll be in trouble. You don’t want to be in trouble, do you?”

  Reanne whimpered, fell against the tall man.

  Part of Andrea wanted to jump out of the bed and fight them. But there were two of them and the other girls were in no shape to fight. Maybe they wouldn’t hurt Reanne. Macy came back okay.

  “This one was a mistake,” the man said. “She’s not like the others.”

  “I like her,” the woman argued. She turned off the flashlight. “He’ll like her, too. You know he doesn’t take after you.”

  Andrea blinked, tried to adjust her eyes to the sudden darkness. Who were they talking about? Who would like Reanne? The idea that they might have been brought here for sex wailed through Andrea,
reverberating in her brain like a shriek. She closed her eyes tight. Tried to stop the thought. No! No! No!

  “What about that tattoo?” The man snorted. “I won’t stand for that.”

  The drag of Reanne’s feet and the soft clomp of the mean people’s footfalls against the dirt floor warned that they were leaving, taking Reanne the same way that had Macy.

  As much as Andrea wished they would leave Reanne alone, she was glad they were going.

  “I can fix that tattoo,” the woman said. “You’ll see. She’s a good girl.”

  The door slammed, the key twisted in the lock.

  Andrea didn’t move until the thump of footsteps on the stairs had faded. She jumped off the top bunk. The plastic bowl of oatmeal tumbled to the dirt floor. She didn’t care. They could be putting anything in the food. Since they didn’t force a pill into her mouth this morning like usual, she’d bet anything the drug was in the oatmeal. She’d eat more dirt before she’d touch anything else from those creeps.

  Water. She needed water. Andrea felt her way to the corner, braced for running into another rat. She’d heard them scurrying around during the night. She shivered, felt for the plastic and grabbed a bottle of water. She gulped down half of it, fought the urge to puke, then downed some more. She needed a clear head. No matter how hard she’d tried, some of the pill had dissolved in her mouth before she had a chance to spit it out last night and bury it.

  She moved around the room. Desperation made her want to scream. There had to be a way out of here! Andrea wanted to wake the other girls and make them help her but it wouldn’t do any good. They were too doped up.

  Think, Andrea! There had to be a way out of this hell hole. She felt around the walls again, even though she’d done it bunches of times already. Brick and wood. The door was cool like steel. She hesitated at the door. The floor was dirt.

  The rats…they got in and out somehow.

  If the floor was dirt in here it probably was on the other side of the wood wall. She hadn’t felt any holes in the wall. They had to be digging tunnels in the ground.