Expert Witness
Page 17
There was a picture of Erika Gardener in a torn t-shirt and cut-offs kneeling next to tomato plants that had been planted in beds that ran parallel to the driveway. He couldn’t tell for certain if it was her place, but he’d have to assume. There was a basket by her side and a car parked to her left. Archer could only see a little bit of the bumper. Hernandez had tacked a dried Hydrangea on the wall. Archer tried to remember if he had seen purple ones in Erika’s yard.
“She’s wearing an engagement ring,” Archer muttered to Liz.
There was a picture of Daniel getting into his car. No, that was wrong. Daniel Young was holding the door for someone. Archer didn’t recognize the place, but Young looked happy. Whoever was holding the camera brought out his good side. The car was a red Toyota. Archer had seen a red Toyota in the parking lot of Young’s building. The fishmonger at Quality Seafood thought the car he had seen was red. There was a torn piece of grocery bag with Daniel’s name scrawled on it and an address that Archer assumed was Young’s. And there was something going on in the living room.
All heads turned at the sound of scuffling. Since those heads belonged to cops, they did what came naturally. Levinsky was the first at the doorway, Archer had his revolver at the ready, and Arnson flanked Liz who stepped back to get a bead through the men’s bodies into the living room. When she did, she was eye-to-eye with a shoulder cam.
Levinsky was the first to react.
“Oh boy.” He rolled his eyes, looked over his shoulder at Arnson and lamented. “It’s Smith.” He turned back to the guy with the camera. “Smith, get out of here.”
The camera lowered revealing a guy in his thirties with the reddest hair Liz had ever seen. He was grinning ear-to-ear and freckled from brow to chin.
“Come on Levinsky. Give me something. It took me forever to find you.”
“Smith, you gotta stop following us.”
“Nope, you and Arnson get the best stuff. Besides, the guy outside,” Smith looked over his shoulder just in time to see Daniel come in. “Him! He told me this is Xavier Hernandez’s place. You think people have forgotten about him, but they haven’t. Come on. Give me something I can sell to the networks, or something really good for YouTube. I gotta make a living Levinsky.”
“I told him not to go in the house!” Daniel skirted around the freelancer to stand with the cops.
“Who are you?” Arnson asked.
“Dr. Daniel Young. I testified in the Hernandez trial.”
Liz turned into Arnson, “We brought him. Just in case he could help out if you had Hernandez.”
“Jesus, what a circus. Amateurs,” Levinsky lamented and Liz colored.
The camera was up on Smith’s shoulder again. The little red light was on and Smith was yapping.
“Levinsky, why is a bad guy like Hernandez out of jail? And where is he? Has the LAPD lost a murderer? A child killer?”
“Get that out of my face.” Levinsky whacked at the camera and Smith laughed. Here was a man who loved his job.
“Dr. Young says Hernandez is suspected of kidnapping two women. Are we going to see a repeat of what happened in the desert? Are you looking for bodies?”
Now Levinsky wasn’t the only one tired of Smith. Archer elbowed through the cops and advanced on Smith who backed up with the camera going. Archer was quick but he knew there was going to be some good footage of him looking like a crazy man. He didn’t care. One big hand went over the lens and another yanked the camera right off Smith’s shoulder.
“Police harassment,” Smith howled. “You better not break that. I’ll sue the department. I’ll. . .”
“I’m not a cop,” Archer growled, stopping only when he had backed Smith to the door. Smith looked around Archer and back to Levinsky and Arnson. Both shrugged.
“He’s not,” said Arnson confirmed.
“Hey,” Archer hollered. “You want the camera or not?”
Smith’s head whipped around in time to see Archer dangling the shoulder cam from three fingers. He dashed for it and grabbed it just as Archer was about to let go.
“Not funny, man. Everybody’s gotta make a living,” he complained.
“You’re not going to do it here,” Archer said.
“Doesn’t matter,” Smith grumbled. “The local news will go for some of this stuff. I think there will be a lot of people interested to know you guys lost Hernandez.” Smith raised his voice on the last for the benefit of the LAPD. If they were worried, they didn’t show it.
“Get out of here, Smith,” Levinsky called. “And you better tell whoever is feeding you info regarding our whereabouts that I’m going to find them and write ‘em up.”
If Archer could have kicked the redhead’s butt on the way out, he would have. Instead, he just stood in the doorway to make sure the guy left as directed. When he returned to the others, Arnson was giving Levinsky the game plan.
“We’ll talk to the public affairs officer when we get back this afternoon and let him know what’s going on. Nobody’s going to run that mess.”
“Maybe not, but the networks aren’t going to ignore the lead. Reporters will be nosing around for a bigger story soon,” Liz suggested.
“They’ll probably have it.”
Everyone turned at the sound of Daniel Young’s voice. Their attention trained on Smith, they hadn’t noticed the psychiatrist move into the bedroom. He was standing in front of the bulletin board with his arms by his sides and his shoulders back. His eyes slid over to the cover of Reverend Wilson’s book. His gaze moved from the bold foiled title, to the picture of Janey, and finally to the calendar.
“What are you talking about?” Archer asked.
“How long has Ms. Bates been gone to the best of your knowledge?” Daniel answered Archer’s questions with one of his own.
“Best guess is two days,” Archer answered.
“Janey and Susie were held, tortured, and then killed on the fifth day. We don’t have long to find Ms. Bates and Ms. Gardener. And that, Archer, is more than my expert opinion.”
He turned his head, looked Archer in the eye, pivoted and walked out of the room. If Archer didn’t know better he would have thought he saw a spring in the man’s step.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:
An Outbuilding in the California Mountains
It took Josie a minute to realize the stealthy sounds outside the wall weren’t a figment of her imagination. The two women had passed the day in silence. Erika’s fear was catching and Josie had been infected. So when she heard noises, she got up, wanting to be facing the door when the man came for them.
Her still-bound hands hit the concrete block. Her head spun and she steadied herself as best she could. She wilted, caught herself and pressed up against the concrete. Erika saw what she was doing. Josie put a finger to her lips. Then Erika heard it, too. She crawled toward Josie, threw her back up against the wall, and flattened herself against the concrete. It was late afternoon and murky inside the hut, but both hoped that their positioning and the light would keep them hidden.
“It’s him,” Erika whispered. “Xavier.”
Josie didn’t move. She strained to hear despite the pounding of her heart. It was the wrong time. He came early in the morning or late at night. He didn’t come now, not in late afternoon. Her lips, dry and cracked, burned as she formed the words:
“No, it’s not.”
Xavier Hernandez’s Place, Los Angeles
Archer didn’t take his frustration out on Daniel. Instead, he stood apart and watched everyone leave the house.
Daniel looked like he was trying to hold himself together. Testifying in court, talking to Hernandez in the controlled environment, writing his reports, making his pronouncements to reporters on the courthouse steps was antiseptic and powerful for the free man. Now the bad guy was free, and he was after people who’d done him wrong. Josie still didn’t make sense, but Archer learned a long time ago that there wasn’t much sense in crime. Daniel Young was learning that, too.
Levi
nsky came out with the uniformed cop and packed evidence bags in the back of the unmarked unit. Arnson and Liz walked across the yard where they huddled with Daniel Young. Arnson and Young were doing the talking. Liz listened.
Archer raised his head. The sun was a bright, shimmering ball of light. It was another scorcher. He looked back again, but Liz wasn’t done. He wanted to be gone. There was nothing to be had here. Archer was almost ready to call a halt to the chitchat when something caught his attention.
An Outbuilding in the California Mountains
Slowly, Josie pushed herself off the ground, and with hope came strength. Caution was thrown to the wind and she called out:
“Hey. In here! We’re in here! Help us.”
Erika sat up. She got to her knees, tilting forward, straining to hear exclamations of shock from whoever was out there. Instead, they heard the leaves rustle as someone inched toward the bunker. A branch cracked under that person’s feet. It sounded like a bomb going off. That was when all hell broke loose. Josie couldn’t tell how many people crashed through the trees and ran through the leaves. Laughing and whooping, the people on the outside found all this fantastically funny.
“Hey, you shit heads. . . wait. . . “ It was a girl’s voice that rang out. Not exactly the kind of girl you’d want to bring home to mom, but it didn’t matter. Josie didn’t want to marry her, she wanted her to stay put.
“There’s a reward,” Josie screamed and in return she heard nothing.
Xavier Hernandez’s House, Los Angeles
Behind her dark glasses, Liz Driscoll’s eyes followed Archer.
“Detective Driscoll? Are you listening?” Liz turned her attention back to Daniel Young. He was a pushy guy.
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
“His family,” Daniel said. “Xavier’s mother was Caucasian and a citizen, his father was an illegal who took off soon after Hernandez was born. The mother controlled everything in his life because she recognized early on he was trouble.”
“If she was that controlling, how come he was out on that highway alone?”
Young shook his head. “Little boys grow up and want some space. They came to an agreement. He could go anywhere he wanted as long as she knew where he was. Once he checked in, she turned her back and never asked what he was doing. What Hernandez came to realize was that his mother was wary of him; I don’t think she was afraid but she knew enough not to push.”
“So the mom exerted her power by letting him know she could take away money, food, shelter, and he fought back by refusing things she wanted like going to the doctor or staying put at night or not going to school?” Arnson asked.
“That’s rather basic, but yes,” Daniel agreed. “It was a male/female power struggle.”
“Doesn’t sound like a crazed homicidal maniac if you ask me. My mom usually had me by the balls when I was a kid, too.” Levinsky had joined the group.
Arnson rolled his eyes. Liz smirked. The comment confused Daniel in the context of such a serious discussion. Daniel tried again to get serious.
“Xavier was an enigma, but he was sane. He killed those girls because he was bored and they presented an opportunity to alleviate that boredom and get back at his mother. It was Ms. Bates who elevated him to the status of a passionate man unable to resist the advances of a young girl. He never was that. There was no passion in him, just the need for sensations. I warned them against believing anything else.”
“Kidnapping is a little different. That takes some planning.”
“I never said he was stupid, I said he was bored.”
“You think he could manage kidnapping two women given what happened to him in prison?” Liz tipped her head as if that would help her discern exactly what Daniel was saying because it didn’t sound like he was saying much.
“How did he get his victims to the shack in the desert?” Levinsky asked.
“According to Hernandez, he tried to help and when they were willing to go with him to get out of the sun, he drove into the desert. He knew the area well enough to know that there were places like that shack all over. Xavier never admitted one way or the other what he knew about that location. He did like remote areas. He was very observant. When I spoke with him, he talked about watching people while they camped and while they slept. This time he went a lot further than watching.”
Daniel eyed each of the people surrounding him, pausing just long enough to make sure all eyes were on him. He smiled slightly. He positioned his head just so.
“Ms. Bates convinced everyone that Hernandez did things spontaneously with no intent to harm. She made him sound almost simple, but he has a powerful sense of purpose. He has a plan here, and he is executing it the same as he did with Janey and Susie.”
“Were drugs involved with Janey Wilson?” Levinsky asked.
Daniel shook his head. “No. The girls were clean and nothing was found at the scene. They had a little food. A few bottles of water were found in that shack. It was squalid. I wouldn’t let an animal live in those conditions. It was a classic case of . . .”
“How did he kill them?” Arnson asked, not caring that Daniel wanted to discuss the psychology behind the crime. Daniel scowled, but answered the question.
“Susie was asphyxiated. She also had a head injury, but the investigators didn’t find any object capable of delivering such a blunt force injury. That always bothered me. I don’t think they looked very hard.”
Daniel sniffed at the cops’ ineptitude, and the three detectives exchanged glances. The two LAPD detectives seemed to be taking Liz to task for bringing this guy. Daniel was clueless, not noticing that he wasn’t making any friends, he went on:
“In Janey’s case, she died of a knife wound. Ms. Bates argued heat of passion. There was evidence of sexual activity. But Josie Bates was more insidious than that. . .”
Daniel dropped his voice to share his lascivious information. He put his fingers on Arnson and Levinsky’s arms simultaneously, but the cops weren’t interested. They all had a timetable and Liz was getting antsy, too.
“We’ve got what we need, doc. Right guys?” Liz suggested.
“But it’s important to know his methodology. Details are so important,” Daniel insisted as he tried to draw them back, but they were already dispersing. “I can give you a timetable for his actions. I can predict. . .”
“We got it,” Levinsky assured him. “Isolate the victims, keep ‘em and kill ‘em.”
Arnson, though, did pause. “ Does he have ties to the desert? A job? Friends out there?”
“No. He has no friends, and he simply likes remote places.” Daniel answered but it was clear he was pouting. Liz almost laughed. He must have been a piece of work to deal with on the stand. She almost felt sorry for Josie Bates. Cross-examining him would be like trying to sweep up Mercury.
“Does he have a special kind of remote place he likes?” Arnson asked.
“I could go back through my files and analyze. . .”
But Arnson and Levinsky were now done with him. Liz was part of the boys group, but Daniel wasn’t.
“Guess we have our work cut out for us.” Liz spoke over Daniel. They were wasting time and Daniel would drag this on if they let him.
“Yep,” Levinsky answered. They turned to Liz. “You want to follow-up on the visitors Hernandez had inside and see what they know?”
“I already have a call into the woman who ran the literacy group. Hernandez never missed that one,” Liz said.
“Good. We’ve got one of Gardener’s neighbors saying she saw a car in the driveway around the time we think she disappeared.”
“Could she identify it?” Liz again.
“Nope. She said it could have been a dark red but probably brown. It wasn’t new. The reason she noticed it was because it was pulled all the way up to the garage and she wondered if Gardener had picked up a second car for some reason.”
“Too much to hope for that she saw anyone getting in or out?” Liz asked.
“Appreciate your help, Driscoll. Let us know if you find anything on your end.”
“Vice-versa, Levinsky.”
With a nod, the men were gone, headed off to follow-up on what they had: Erika Gardener’s address book, a warrant to run her computer for clues, and coming down hard on Cuwin Martin. Yep, there was a lot to do. On Liz’s end, she just had to do it without Hagarty knowing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:
An Outbuilding in the California Mountains
“Kids,” Josie whispered excitedly. “It’s kids out there.”
“Yes” Erika breathed. “Yes. Oh my God. Thank God. But they ran away.”
“No. They’re hanging out there waiting for something to happen,” Josie answered.
“Try again,” Erika urged.
“Help. Help us.” Stronger now Josie jumped up and waved her bound hands as she called out. “Help us. We’re here. Open the door.”
Josie was screaming and Erika was scurrying fast on her hands and knees. She grasp Josie’s ankle and tried to pull herself up, but Josie shook her off. She wasn’t strong enough to hold both of them up. And it didn’t matter anyway. Someone was coming toward them. It was only one of the four she had identified earlier, but that didn’t matter. One was all they needed to open the door, and if they couldn’t, it only took one to make a phone call.
Suddenly, it was quiet. There were no frantic hands on the door, no calls of assurance. Josie licked her lips and the cracks stung under the pitiful layer of saliva. She pounded her hands at the edge of the opening, wiggling her fingers in her desperation.
“My name if Josie Bates. I live in Hermosa Beach. Josie Bates. Do you understand? If you can’t open the door, I need you to call this number. . .”