“Because this is the first time you’ve heard those allegations or because you haven’t yet begun investigating them?” Brockmore arched his eyebrows.
Addison saw Gary’s eyes grow steely. “We are aware of threats that were made against Dr. Thorn and are investigating them. Currently, we’re doing all we can to locate Lyndzee Thorn. At this point we are not willing to classify this as abduction. That determination will be made after we thoroughly investigate the crime scene.”
“Would you say that on camera for me at the 11 p.m. broadcast?”
“No. You’ve got what you need. I’ve got a job to do. If you need to set up your truck, keep it across the street, or I’ll have it towed.” Gary turned on his heel and walked back toward the carryout.
Pat Robinette elbowed his way out of the crowd. He looked Brockmore up and down with disgust and said, “They’re organizing volunteers into search teams. I’m going to go out with one of them.”
Addison nodded. Before she could say anything, her cell phone rang. It was Gary.
“I’ve got something for you and I’m not giving it to that asshole,” he whispered. “If you can meet me back at the station in 20 minutes, I’d appreciate it.”
“What is it?”
“Just meet me at the front desk in 20 minutes.”
Chapter Five
Jubilant Falls’ Police Department headquarters was in the catacombs of city hall’s basement, a concrete bunker of offices, communications equipment and holding cells. It was nearing 11:30 at night as Addison waited in front of the dispatcher’s bulletproof window, alternately wishing for her twin addictions, caffeine and nicotine.
Gary McGinnis tapped on the dispatcher’s window and pointed to the adjoining door, a videotape in his hand. There was a buzzing sound as the door unlocked electronically.
“You need to see this,” he said. Addison followed him through the white concrete hallway.
“Does it prove that Thorn engineered his own daughter’s kidnapping?” Addison’s short muscled legs could barely keep pace with McGinnis’s long strides.
They turned a corner, then another, and were suddenly in a conference room. Law books and case files lined the walls; a cheap conference table circled by equally bargain-basement office chairs filled the center of the small room. McGinnis popped the videotape into a TV/VCR unit that sat on top of a squat industrial gray filing cabinet.
“If he did, he had a hell of a lot of help.” McGinnis picked up a remote and, pointing it at the television, pushed ‘play.’
It was the surveillance video from inside Pop‘s carryout. As the time counter clicked off seconds in white letters in the upper left hand corner of the screen, Addison watched a gray, slightly fuzzy image of six-year-old Lyndzee Thorn push open the front door. It was 4:32 p.m. Addison watched as the girl wandered through the store before settling on the candy aisle directly in front of the cashier, carefully considering how to spend the dollar bill she clutched in both hands beneath her chin.
I am looking at what could possibly be the last known images of my friend’s little girl, Addison thought, shivering. While I was sitting at her house, drinking ice tea, sneaking cigarettes with her mother and arguing with her father.
A 30-ish man with short cowboy-bowed legs walked past Lyndzee and looked her up and down before proceeding to the coolers at the back of the store. In the grainy picture, Addison could just make out a smeared tattoo on his forearm, a flattened nose and a cauliflowered ear.
McGinnis stopped the tape.
“That’s Roy Castlewheel. We’ve had him under surveillance for about three months now. We think he’s been bringing cocaine down from Detroit via I-75 and selling it here and in Collitstown. We also think he’s growing pot somewhere in Plummer County, but we just can’t find it. He’s done time for dealing before.”
“OK, so even drug dealers buy a six-pack now and then.”
“Keep watching.” McGinnis pointed the remote and pushed ‘play’ again.
From the back of the store a wild-looking man appeared on the tape. His clothing was torn; his hair and beard were unkempt and he seemed to be gesturing wildly and talking to himself. More than once, customers who came down the aisles gave him a wide berth, either from fear or perhaps from his body odor.
“That’s Talley Lundgren!” Addison exclaimed, pointing at the screen. “You don’t think he’s a suspect, do you? He’s harmless—the village idiot! A little drunk most times, but nothing serious.” Talley was one of Jubilant Falls’ better-known homeless people, a wino who often slept in the park or in abandoned cars.
“If you know who Talley is, then you know he spends his days protesting something out in front of the college gates or panhandling. Most of the time he just stands in front of the gates holding a sign, but over the last few days, he’s been escalating his rants. He’s accosting students and staff, yelling at them, grabbing them as they walk by and we’ve gotten a few complaints. We’ve told him to move on, which he’s done for the most part. But yesterday, he reportedly grabbed Seaford Thorn as he walked by and told him to watch himself, that he was watching him and his family and he would extract his own revenge for Seaford’s sins, if God wouldn’t.”
“So Seaford thinks some wino’s rants are credible threats?” Addison gnawed on her thumbnail. “What was Talley referring to?”
“I don’t know. We hadn’t considered the missing money, until you said something about it, but why would Talley Lundgren be concerned about that?”
Addison shrugged and nodded. Why would he care, indeed?
“Now this is the one we’re particularly concerned with.” The tape began to play again and Addison watched as Lyndzee Thorn chose a candy bar and then moved toward the coolers, out of the camera’s range.
The carry out’s door opened and an older man entered. He was probably in his mid-fifties, Addison surmised, with just the remnants of a hairline. He was wearing jeans and tee shirt and muddy, steel-toed work boots.
McGinnis stopped the tape once more. “This is one nasty bastard and the one we’re really worried about, if he’s got Lyndzee. This is Harmon Ripsmatta—he goes by Rip. He’s a registered sexual predator and did time for molesting his ex-wife’s daughter. He’s just been released from prison and we’ve seen him parked across the street from the Greater Grace Christian School where Lyndzee attends.”
“Oh God.” Addison’s eyes widened as the tape began again and Lyndzee moved back into the camera’s range, walking toward the cashier. She was carrying a soda bottle and a candy bar. Talley Lundgren quickly stepped in front of her and said something to Lyndzee, who shrank back in fear. The cashier stepped forward and said something to Lundgren, gesturing angrily toward the door. Lundgren slouched toward the exit. Both Castlewheel and Ripsmatta slipped quickly into the cashier’s line and paid for their purchases, Ripsmatta next in line to the now-missing girl. For some reason, Ripsmatta tossed some coins toward Lyndzee as she paid for her goodies. As she walked toward the door, Castlewheel held a six-pack of beer; Ripsmatta asked for and received two packs of cigarettes.
In seconds, all three suspects, along with Lyndzee Thorn, were out the door. McGinnis stopped the tape.
“We can’t find any of these losers—none of them. We don’t know if they’re connected with her disappearance. If anybody is a strong suspect, it’s Ripsmatta, the sexual predator. What he did to his stepdaughter was pretty nasty so he might be looking for new victims. But it’s still weird that three of Jubilant Falls’ biggest scumbags are in the same place when this little girl disappears. It’s too strange. I’m telling you this because I trust you implicitly, Penny, not to reveal these names—until the time is right, of course. But I do want you to let people know these men are wanted for questioning.”
Addison nodded. “I won’t, Gary. And I appreciate your trust. Now, if one of these guys comes to me and talks, that’s a different situation.”
“That won’t happen, I guarantee.”
“Probably not. So what
about Dr. Thorn?”
“He’s been released. After looking at the surveillance tape and interviewing him, we have no further evidence than what Mrs. Thorn said at the crime scene. But we’ll be watching him, just in case.”
Addison made a few notes. “Do you anticipate finding Lyndzee tonight?”
“We can only hope, Penny. We can only hope.”
The streets of Jubilant Falls were mostly empty as Addison drove back to Pop’s Carryout to see how the search was progressing. A few search teams had returned with no success, but a sheriff’s deputy told Addison they anticipated searching all night long.
“We’ll keep you informed,” he said.
Numb with exhaustion, Addison could only nod and pat the deputy on the arm. She had no idea where Pat Robinette was, whether he was with a search team or whether he’d gotten the shots he needed and was back at the paper.
Duncan hadn’t called in several hours, but that didn’t bother her. He knew her well enough to know that when she was on a story, she was like a dog with a bone. He would be able to take care of Izzy and do it well. Things at the farm wouldn’t miss a beat simply because she was on a big story. It had happened before; it was why parenting responsibilities often fell to Duncan.
She handed the deputy her business card. “I’m going back to write up the story and get some sleep. Call me if anything changes.”
***
Back at the paper, Addison switched on the light in her office and turned on the computer. A yellow Post-It note clung to the screen: “12 shots in the system ready for morning news budget meeting. Back at scene until something happens, then sleep. Be back here by 10 a.m. —PR.”
“I knew I could count on you, Pat,” she murmured and, leafing through her notebook, she began to write.
Within an hour, she finished the story. A quick touch of a computer key sent it to be edited, with a few additional notes at the top of her copy that she wanted it to be the lead story. She slipped from behind her big desk and flopped into the wing chair where Porter had sat less than 18 hours before.
How quickly things had changed.
Porter fired, her best friend Suzanne left to raise five boys alone, her own daughter suspended from school…
It all paled in comparison to the agony Jaylynn Thorn was experiencing.
“Just bring Lyndzee home safe, God, that’s all I ask. Just bring her home,” Addison whispered. She closed her eyes and instantly fell asleep.
City editor Dennis Herrick’s firm hand on her shoulder shook her awake the next morning.
Addison sat up stiffly in the wing chair and stretched. “God, what a night. Nothing’s changed, right? They haven’t found her?”
“No. You should have gone home to sleep. I could have handled things this morning. See? We got through deadline and everything.” He handed her a copy of the paper, its ink still damp. Addison chewed her fingernail as she read through her story:
Golgotha President’s Daughter Believed Abducted
By Addison McIntyre
Managing Editor
Police were still searching for the 6-year-old daughter of Golgotha College President Rev. Dr. Seaford Rochambeau Thorn and his wife Jaylynn, who disappeared yesterday after she left home to visit a local carryout with the family dog.
Missing is Lyndzee Ruth Thorn, who police say was last seen wearing blue jeans, a blue flowered top, and white Velcro tennis shoes with pink Winnie the Pooh detailing on the sides.
The girl weighs about 70 pounds and has blonde hair and blue eyes, according to Jubilant Falls Assistant Police Chief Gary McGinnis.
She has a small diagonal scar across her chin from a recent fall on the Greater Grace Christian Academy playground, where she is in first grade. She is missing a lower front tooth.
The family dog, a Pomeranian named Punky, was found tied by its leash to the bicycle rack outside Pop’s Carryout across from the campus. The dog was discovered at 8 p.m. when the carryout closed, two hours after Lyndzee had been reported missing, according to McGinnis.
Store security video shows the girl entering alone, purchasing some candy and leaving at 4:32 pm. She seemed to speak briefly to a thin white older male before paying for her candy. Police do not know if the man has anything to do with Lyndzee’s disappearance, but would like him to contact them as soon as possible.
Police called the presence of two other men seen on the store video “suspicious” and would also like to question them about the girl’s disappearance.
The Golgotha College board issued a statement that alleges Dr. Thorn was the object of a number of threats within the last few days, but police will not confirm or deny those reports. The statement also called Lyndzee's disappearance an abduction, although police are not willing to classify it as such just yet, and no one has come forward claiming responsibility.
The board asks that residents be on the look out for the girl and to report any information they may have to the police.
Thorn, who has been under fire by the Golgotha board of regents for alleged financial irregularities at the college, was taken briefly to the station for interrogation, but then released.
Just above the headline was one of Pat’s photos. It was Dr. Rachel Wiseman searching through the woods beside a Plummer County Sheriff’s deputy. The serene smile on her face caused Addison to shiver.
Chapter Six
The car stopped after what seemed an eternity of driving—turning, circling, and making long stretches of monotonous engine sounds as it drove down straight roads. Laying on her back inside the trunk, Lyndzee had stopped screaming long ago, exhausted from her tears and numb with fear.
Whoever had her was going to kill her, she knew. That’s what always happened on those forbidden TV shows she watched when Mommy wasn’t looking. But why? Why would anybody want to kill her? She hadn’t done anything wrong, hadn’t been bad, not even a little bit. The terror in her heart told her she wasn’t ever going to see her mommy and daddy again.
Tears crested in the corners of her eyes and rolled into her ears as she thought about how Mommy and Daddy must be frantic looking for her. She’d left Punky tied up outside Pop’s Carryout. Had somebody found him?
“I want my puppy!” she cried suddenly. “I want my dog!” The words bounced off the trunk lid above her and back into her face.
Lyndzee tried to listen to the sounds outside the trunk to figure out where she was, but the car’s engine was loud and she couldn’t tell if there were other cars around her.
Suddenly, the car stopped. Wherever they were, it was silent. A car door squeaked opened and the crunch of footsteps in gravel came closer to the trunk.
The glow from a parking lot light shot suddenly into her eyes and Lyndzee blinked as her kidnapper stepped in front of the open trunk.
Lyndzee gasped as the man leered into her face. She focused on his face, taking in his missing lower teeth, his bald head, and his thick nose. There was something written on his neck, like a bug, but in the darkness Lyndzee wasn’t sure.
“Yeah, it’s me, and now you and me, we’re going to play some games here in the woods.” He grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her from the trunk.
Lyndzee stumbled, but the man held her under her armpit to keep her from falling. She recognized the marked trail where they were headed—the woods surrounding Canal Lock Park, out in the country. Mommy and Daddy took her there when school was out for picnics and swimming in the park pool.
She struggled to free herself, but the man’s hand squeezed even harder around her arm, jerking her to an abrupt halt. She screamed in pain.
“Stop it! Goddamn you! Shut up and this won’t go so bad for you!” His thick hand cracked across her face.
Lyndzee tasted blood and felt pain across her right eye.
“N-o-o-o! I wanna go home! I want my mommy! I want my daddy!”
He struck her across the face again, letting her fall to the ground from the strength of his blow. Sobbing, Lyndzee struggled to her knees, spitting blood a
nd snot and tears.
The man stepped back and began to undo the belt on his pants. “Your ma and pop ain’t here to help you now. Somebody else wants you, but right now, me ‘n’ you is gonna have some fun before we go.”
Suddenly, he grabbed her foot, but Lyndzee was quicker. She struggled to her feet and the shoe came off in the man’s hand. He lost his balance, falling into the gravel, cursing.
There was the sound of another car and more headlights shone around her, then shut off. There were angry voices and a sharp cracking sound. But Lyndzee didn’t wait to see if they were there to help her or not. Screaming, she ran into the darkened woods.
***
The woods grew darker and the evening’s humid air became thicker the farther she ran, but Lyndzee knew she couldn’t stop. That man from the carryout could be behind her, wanting to hit her again, wanting to keep her from going home. Branches slapped her bruised face and grasped at her hair. Her gait was unsteady from running with one sock-clad foot. When the trees got too thick, she lost the light of the moon, narrowly missing the tree roots that seemed to grab at that unshod foot like that bad man did.
Her breath wheezed in her ears and burned in her lungs when, no longer hearing anyone behind her, she finally stopped. She leaned against a tree, then sank slowly onto her bottom, gasping for air. Her sock was dirty and torn, and her foot hurt from the rough trail she’d been running on. There were bloodstains down her blue shirt and on her jeans. The left side of her face felt stiff and swollen. It was hard to see out of her left eye and every now and again, the salty taste of blood filled her mouth.
The dew was falling and the temperatures, so warm earlier this afternoon when she’d walked confidently to the carryout, were cool in the darkness. Above her, an owl hooted as clouds slipped briefly across the face of the moon.
“I wanna go home, I wanna go home, I wanna go home.”
She’d missed dinner. And because she’d asked the day before, Mommy was going to cook her favorite dinner tonight, fish sticks with macaroni and cheese. She thought of her yellow-canopied bed at the big white house and Punky curling up at her feet in the middle of the night.
Barn Burner (Jubilant Falls series Book 1) Page 5
