by James Hunt
12
“And you can confirm the money transfer?” Jim asked.
“Yes,” Missy answered. “Daniel wired ten thousand dollars to Ben Turner. The guy was even dumb enough to use his own name.”
“Okay, thanks, Missy,” Jim said.
Jim ended the call and clicked on his seatbelt as Kerry drove over to the Teller’s house.
“So it’s true?” Kerry asked.
“Yup,” Jim answered. “Daniel paid Turner.”
“You want us to have backup tag along?” Kerry asked.
“No, we can handle him,” Jim answered. “And I don’t want to wait for an officer to respond.”
“Right,” Kerry said.
When they returned to the Teller home, they were once again granted entry, and Kerry parked near the front door.
“Are we arresting him?” Kerry asked.
Jim studied the large home that had been built on the back of the Teller’s young son. “No,” Jim answered. “We play it like we need to talk to him and go over some information down at the station.” He looked to Kerry. “I want to make him think everything’s fine.”
“Lure him in under false pretenses,” Kerry said.
“Right,” Jim replied. “Let’s go.”
This time when they walked up to the door, Daniel Teller wasn’t there to greet them. Instead, it was the woman who had buzzed them in earlier. She asked them to wait in the foyer as she left to go retrieve Daniel.
Kerry leaned into Jim’s ear. “You think he’s going to make a run for it?”
Jim shook his head. “I think he wants to avoid looking guilty for as long as possible. Bad parents don’t like it when it’s revealed that they’re bad parents.”
When Daniel Teller finally greeted them, he was sweaty and breathless. “Sorry about that. I was in the gym, trying to work through some of my anxiety. What’s up?”
“We wanted to have you come with us down to the station,” Jim answered.
“Is everything all right?” Daniel asked, becoming skittish.
“Yes,” Kerry answered. “We just need for you to go over a few more pieces of information with us.”
Worry spread over Daniel’s face. He wasn’t prepared for something like this, and Jim saw the wheels turning in his head. He was already trying to think of a story that would sound reasonable to the authorities. He wondered how he was going to save his own skin and try to spin how his son’s abduction wasn’t really his fault.
“Yeah, of course,” Daniel said, clearing his throat. “I just need to call my wife and let her know—”
Kerry intercepted Daniel before he retreated. “We can call her from the station.”
It was only for a split second, but Jim saw the glint of fear in Daniel Teller’s eyes. He knew what was happening. He felt the walls closing in around him. It was only a matter of time before the truth came out and he was ruined.
Daniel Teller was witnessing the end of his life, happening in real-time, so he did what most people who were in over their heads did in those situations: he denied it.
“Sure,” Daniel said, becoming overly helpful. “Whatever you need.”
Jim and Kerry put Daniel into the back of the squad car, and Jim kept an eye on him the entire ride to the precinct. He didn’t know how Daniel would try to weasel out of the situation, but he figured he might try to pin something on the wife.
Daniel remained silent on the drive to the precinct, and Jim kept a close eye on the father. It was clear the man was nervous, but whether he was guilty remained to be seen.
When they returned to the precinct, Jim and Kerry escorted Daniel inside, and it was here they had a little present waiting for Daniel.
They had brought Ben Turner in on charges, and they made sure to sit him where Daniel Teller would notice him on his walk through the building. The moment the pair locked eyes, it was clear to Jim that they recognized one another.
After they dropped Daniel off in one of the interrogation rooms, Jim and Kerry studied Daniel from the monitors outside, watching his reaction to Turner’s presence.
“How long do you want him to sweat?” Kerry asked.
Jim studied the monitor, trying to come up with the best approach to handle Ricky’s father. “We focus on the failed marriage. That’s obviously a point of contention for him. That’s where we’ll start. Let’s go.”
When Jim and Kerry returned to the interrogation room, Daniel’s complexion turned white as a sheet, and when Jim closed the door, the father looked like a man on death row.
“So,” Daniel said, speaking nervously. “What can I, um, help with?”
Jim made sure to take his time before he answered. He didn’t think it would take long before Daniel popped and told them everything they wanted to know.
“What can you tell us about the preparation the security team had with you about the event security for your son?” Jim asked.
“Um, nothing, really,” Daniel answered.
“But before you said you and your wife were in communication with the security team,” Jim said, twisting Daniel’s words against him. “Isn’t that right?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Daniel answered. “No, I mean, yes, we did speak. We spoke.”
“And what did you speak about?” Kerry asked.
“We just wanted to make sure Ricky would be safe,” Daniel answered. “Obviously, they failed.”
“Did you try to reach out to any other security firms to see if they would be able to provide extra assistance?” Jim asked.
Daniel shook his head. “No. That was something I tried to bring up with Marcia, but she didn’t want to listen to me about it. I tried, though, and now look at us.”
Jim remained silent, letting Daniel marinate in his own lies. It was only a matter of time before Daniel cracked.
“Who was, um, that man out there?” Daniel asked, referring to Ben Turner.
“What man?” Kerry asked.
“Oh, I just thought I saw, um, I thought maybe you had a suspect,” Daniel said. He placed both hands on the table and squeezed them tightly, lacing his fingers together.
“Actually, we do have a suspect,” Jim said.
Daniel clapped his hands together, feigning a mixture of relief and sadness. “That is great! Fantastic news. Does that mean you also found Ricky?”
Jim leaned forward, looking Daniel in the eyes. “We know, Daniel.”
Daniel smiled, but the expression was vapid and hollow. “Know what? I don’t—I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What do you know?”
“We know that you spoke with Benjamin Turner,” Jim said. “We have the emails. We have the account information and the money you wired him. We know you wanted him to sabotage the security at the event.”
Daniel was frozen, but only for a moment, and then he leaned back into his chair and crossed his arm, growing defensive. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“We want to know why you paid Ben Turner,” Kerry answered.
Daniel laughed again. “This is ridiculous—I’m not the guilty one here, okay? I didn’t do anything wrong.” He was growing angrier and more defensive. “I am a good father, okay? I protect my son! I protect him!” He slammed his fist onto the table to accentuate the point, and Jim and Kerry stood, moving to a defensively ready position in case Daniel became violent.
“Mr. Teller, you need to calm down,” Kerry said.
But a part of Jim didn’t want Daniel to calm down. He wanted Daniel to attack, so Jim could let off some steam. He was just looking for an excuse now, and he was hoping Daniel Teller would give him what he needed.
But Daniel Teller didn’t attack. He didn’t even get up out of his chair. He simply started to cry, burying his face in his hands. “Oh God,” Daniel said, running his fingers through his hair. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my fucking God.”
“Where is your son, Daniel?” Jim asked.
“I don’t know,” Daniel answered, petulant.
“You paid Ben
Turner to sabotage the security at the event, and then your son was abducted at the same time,” Jim said. “How can you not know where your son is located?”
“Because I didn’t know he was going to be taken!” Daniel shouted, crying now. “I just wanted to make Marcia look bad, okay? I knew the protestors were going to be there, and I knew there were going to be big crowds! I never thought Ricky would be in real danger! I just wanted to make it look like he was in danger. Christ, how did this happen?” He covered his face again, and Jim wasn’t sure if this was all of the truth.
“Why do all of that to make Marcia look bad?” Jim asked.
“Because she controls everything,” Daniel answered. “My lawyer told me things weren’t looking good for me in court and that unless we could prove that Marcia was putting Ricky’s life at risk, then I was going to be cut out of everything. The money, the business, the house!”
“Not to mention your son’s life,” Jim said, adding that important detail on Daniel’s behalf.
“Huh? Oh, yes, of course,” Daniel said.
“So you mean to tell us that you hired someone to sabotage your son’s security, put his life at risk, all because you were afraid to lose money?” Kerry asked.
“It wasn’t just that,” Daniel answered. “I’ve put just as much time and effort into Ricky’s channel as she has. But I’m just not good with business stuff, so she handled that. Little did I know that her name is on everything. She left me out of it, purposefully, but I signed off on it, so I don’t have a leg to stand on in court. I just wanted a little leverage, but I had no idea—” He covered his mouth, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down from crying. “I didn’t know Ricky would be taken.”
Jim leaned back. This wasn’t how he believed the conversation would go. But he also wasn’t sure if he believed Daniel. The man could have just been lying to them to try to save face. Maybe something went wrong with the abduction? Maybe Daniel hired someone else for the abduction? Jim would have Missy take a closer look into the Teller’s financials.
“If you want to look at a real suspect, you should talk to Marcia,” Daniel said, quickly deflecting. “She doesn’t have her shit together like you think she does.” He leaned forward. “I couldn’t make this stick in court, but she has a gambling problem. She does a very good job of keeping it under wraps. She says she hasn’t gambled in years, but I think she’s lying. I think the reason she’s been pushing Ricky so hard with endorsements is that she’s blown all of our money.”
“If you said you don’t have proof, then how do you know she has a problem?” Kerry asked.
“Because she had a problem when we met,” Daniel answered. “She tried to clean up her act, but over the past year, I think she’s slipped into old habits.”
“Why would her gambling have anything to do with your son’s disappearance?” Jim asked.
“She gambles big money,” Daniel said. “The kind that’s not exactly legal, you know?”
Jim couldn’t believe what he was listening to. He was disgusted. “You know what I think is worth looking into? The fact that you were willing to put your son’s safety at risk for money.”
“I didn’t know!” Daniel said. “I didn’t know he was going to be taken!”
Jim turned to leave, Kerry following, as Daniel cried at the table.
Once they were in the hallway, it took all of Jim’s strength not to punch through the drywall. “Piece of garbage.” He grunted and then paced the hallway between the walls.
“We need to find the mother, see if we can confirm anything about the gambling,” Kerry said.
“I mean, what is wrong with people?” Jim asked, talking to himself.
Kerry grabbed Jim’s arm, and he stopped pacing. “Are you all right?”
Jim wasn’t all right. He was on the verge of having a mental breakdown and he knew it. The constant breakneck pace of work over the past few months was catching up with him. He was too wired, too fried, too exhausted to keep going. But if he didn’t push forward, then Ricky Teller might not come home, and Jim wasn’t going to lose another kid on his watch ever again.
“I’m fine,” Jim said, removing his arm from Kerry’s hand. “And you’re right. We should go and find the mom.”
But Kerry was looking past Jim, her eyes wide with surprise. “Doesn’t look like we’ll have to.”
Jim turned around and saw Marcia Teller being escorted in by a police officer. Her face was beaten, her eyes shiny, and her lips swollen, with cuts along her cheeks and forehead. She looked like she’d gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson.
“What the hell is going on?” Jim asked.
The paramedics were called to help with Marcia Teller. In addition to the welts and bruises covering her face, there were several large bruises along her rib cage. The paramedics said X-rays were needed to check for cracked ribs and punctured lungs, and she was taken to the hospital.
Jim and Kerry followed, wanting answers to the several questions circulating around the case. When they reached the hospital, they were forced to wait until the doctors cleared Marcia to speak with them.
But no matter how often Jim and Kerry told the nurses it was urgent they speak with Marcia Teller immediately, it did nothing to speed up the process.
“A little boy has been missing for over four hours now,” Jim said, growing frustrated by the brick wall that was standing in front of him. “The first twelve hours in a missing person’s case are crucial. Once that time is gone, we can’t get it back.”
“Sir, Marcia Teller is still being looked at by the doctors.” The nurse, whose name tag read Rachel, looked up at Jim, raising her hands to try to keep him calm, but without success. “The moment she can talk—”
“She needs to tell us what she knows now!” Jim shouted, raising his voice loud enough to cause the rest of the workers in the hall to stop and stare at the outburst. It was only now Jim realized that he had crossed a line.
“Jim,” Kerry said, pulling him back. “C’mon.”
Jim didn’t resist, but he wasn’t quite done with the nurse, feeling the need to make a final comment before he was completely gone.
“The moment she is out, you come to find us,” Jim said.
The nurse didn’t reply, and Kerry led Jim away from the crowd that had stopped to gawk at him and down a separate hallway that wasn’t as busy as the main fairway.
“You need to relax,” Kerry said, keeping her voice hushed. “That’s the second time today you’ve stepped over the line. I want to find this kid as much as you do, but that doesn’t excuse your actions. So snap out of it.” She shoved him in the chest and knocked him back a step. It wasn’t a hard hit, just firm enough to remind him that Kerry was strong enough and smart enough to challenge him.
“I’m sorry,” Jim said, realizing he needed someone to give him a good shake. He leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes so hard that when he opened them again, he saw nothing but black spots.
“You just need to calm down a bit,” Kerry said. “I’m going to get something out of the vending machine. Do you want anything?”
Jim shook his head. “I’m fine.”
Once Jim was alone, he allowed himself a moment of rest. He found a chair outside of a room nearby and collapsed into it. He didn’t think he’d ever been this tired working a case before. He was still confident in his ability to get the job done, and he didn’t think there was anyone else more capable than him to bring Ricky Teller home. He also recognized he wasn’t at one hundred percent.
And that frightened him.
For as long as Jim had worn the badge, he had always wanted to be the best, not for the records or the accolades, but because he had been the kid who was missing. Jim understood what it was like to go through something traumatic. He had been the child who was abducted. He had been the kid who was forgotten. And now that he was in a position of power, he vowed to never let any child go through something like that while he could do something about it.
No child should
have to endure the kind of pain he went through. And for all of those children who didn’t have a protector, Jim vowed to fill that role for them.
And Jim’s noble pursuit of justice helped ease the guilt he felt about having a second chance. Because he knew there were thousands of other children who would have been just as deserving of escaping and surviving the system. Why did he survive a horrendous childhood while so many others never escaped? What made him so special?
“Looks like someone’s awake,” a voice said through the open door next to Jim. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” another voice said, this one much more fragile than the first.
Jim peered around the side of the door and peaked inside. He saw a mother standing at the bedside of a young girl. She had her head shaved and tubes stuck in her, hooked up to machines. She must have been a cancer patient, and while Jim wasn’t sure of her exact age, he would put her between ten and twelve.
“Can I get you anything?” the mother asked.
“Are there any popsicles left at the cafeteria?” the girl asked.
“I’ll go check.” The mother kissed the daughter on the forehead, and Jim quickly looked forward in his seat as she passed.
Once the mother was gone, Jim peeked back into the room. The girl had shut her eyes again, probably more exhausted than she had ever been in her life. Jim couldn’t imagine the struggle the little girl was going through, the fight she had put up. But despite what was sure to be a lot of pain running through her, she looked incredibly peaceful as she slept.
Jim couldn’t remember the last good night’s sleep he had, and looking at that sick girl now, he couldn’t help but feel like he was drifting away, too.
The sudden manic beeping of the machines in the room snapped Jim out of his daze, and he was on his feet before he realized he had stood.
The machine that monitored the girl’s pulse and blood pressure had flatlined, and the girl lay just as she had before, with only the slightest difference in her posture. The life had gone out of her.
