by J. J. Stone
The morbidly curious crowd that had gathered near the ferry port made John Klinton sick. As the coroner transported the woman’s body from where it had been plucked from Puget Sound to the back of a panel van, the crowd’s dim rustle rose to blurring outcries at the sight of the black bag encased body.
“So young.”
“How did she end up in the water?”
“No one deserves to go this way.”
John could no longer stomach the snippets of speculation. He turned and strode back to his car, nestled among the other “ferry walkers” cars. This was the first time he had stayed for the aftermath. He wasn’t sure what he had expected his experience to be like, but he hadn’t accounted for feeling … misunderstood.
As he ducked into his aging sedan and brought it to rattling life, he marveled at how wrong the idiots in the crowd had it. The girl from the coffee shop had deserved to go that way. She was like any other small-town slut. Charming to strangers and seemingly innocent, yet inside she was as damaged and ugly as any corner hooker. He had spotted her instantly inside the popular Langley hangout. He had caught her throwing herself at him with her eyes a dozen times, clearly over the poor bastard sitting beside her in total denial of his girlfriend’s sole commitment to him. In the end, John had given her what she had been so obviously longing for, but only to help drive home to her his point that she was a promiscuous cyst blemishing the face of society with her thoughtless advances.
John had known within seconds of spotting the girl why he had ended up at that particular coffee shop. Why he had gotten on the ferry to Whidbey Island in the first place. To rid the world of yet another lustful parasite desperate to sink her claws into the first unsuspecting man she saw. There was now one less chance of his daughter being influenced by this revolting hoard of whores swarming seemingly all around.
He thought of his precious daughter Jane waiting for him back at their hotel room. Her first seven years of life had been tainted with destruction, lies, and constant struggle, thanks to a mother who couldn’t last five minutes without a bottle in her hand and a man wrapped around her finger. No more, John thought as he headed back to Seattle. He was on a mission to give Jane a world she deserved, was entitled to as an innocent child cursed with a broken home. And he would not fail her, not again.
_____
The house’s heavy front door jerked open. Ada flinched upright from her uncle’s embrace as James burst out onto the porch.
Mike eased to his feet. “You’re leaving?” he asked James.
“They found another girl,” James said. He looked at Ada. “I need an answer.”
Ada shot out a disbelieving laugh and brought her knees up to her chest. “I don’t have one,” she replied, taking a small bit of delight at the annoyance that darkened James’s face.
Mike held up an appeasing hand. “She means she’ll get back to you,” he said quickly.
James shot a stern look between Ada and Mike for a few seconds. The muscles in his jawline tightened, and he shook his head. “If my hands weren’t tied, I wouldn’t be playing these games with you,” he said to Ada. “Given the situation, I really have no choice. Call me by eight tomorrow morning.”
“Did you leave a number?” Ada asked, inwardly loving the frustration billowing in the agent.
James didn’t bite this time. “Get it from Patrick. I have to go.” He quickly shook Mike’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Mike smiled and clapped the younger man’s shoulder. “Same to you. You’ll be hearing from us,” he said.
James nodded then turned and jogged down the stairs to the black SUV.
As the SUV started and backed down the twisting driveway, Ada shook her head. “He’s an experience,” she said.
Mike chuckled. “That’s the bureau for you. They tend to attract the no-nonsense, rough-around-the-edges types.”
“Why did you think I would do well there?”
“You’re not exactly all sunshine and roses, Ada-bug,” Mike said. He extended a hand to her. “Come on, I think it’s time you start heading back.”
Ada accepted his hand and gracefully stood from the swing. She threw her arms around her uncle’s neck, hanging on for a few moments. “I’ll think about it. OK?” she whispered against his shoulder.
Mike smiled tenderly and kissed her forehead.
_____
“Come on, time for bed,” Ada called to Tiny as she walked into her bedroom. The dog obediently trotted to his bed and curled up on it.
Ada changed into a well-worn pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. As she pulled the shirt over her head, her eyes landed on the gallery wall in her bedroom. They drifted over all the various framed images.
When Jacob Brandt had been carted off to jail and Mary Brandt was laid to rest, six-year-old Ada was left homeless and an orphan. Mike had stepped forward to take his brother’s daughter as his own. On the day that Ada moved to her uncle’s, she remembered he scoured her childhood home for any and all photographs and family mementos. Whatever Ada and Mike hadn’t taken was donated or thrown away. But Mike was sure to salvage as many reminders as he could of the happy years of Ada’s early life.
Now in her own home, Ada loved being able to go to these photographs and study her mother’s smile, try to recall the time her mother had taken her to the park, or see which features she had inherited from her mother. Ada had even held conversations with the pictures. She had “asked” her mother what she thought about her becoming an author instead of following in Uncle Mike’s footsteps at the FBI.
The analyst offer weighed heavily on her mind. She looked to a picture of her mother, swinging on an old farm swing. She was looking directly at the camera, and, Ada always felt, right at her.
“What would you do, Mom?” Ada asked, surprised when a lump surfaced in her throat. She cleared it quickly.
Her phone rang loudly from her purse, which she’d tossed carelessly on the floor. She grabbed it and answered.
“Tell me you’ve been watching the news,” Tiffany said, the panic evident in her voice even through the phone.
“No, I just got back from my uncle’s place. Why, what’s up?”
“They found another body,” Tiffany breathed, emotion suddenly creeping into her voice.
“Oh, yeah, I heard about that,” Ada said, hoping to wrap up the conversation quickly.
“Did you hear who it was?”
“No, I just knew they found someone.”
Tiffany didn’t answer right away. Ada thought the call had dropped. “Tif?” she called.
“Ada ... it was one of your students.”
Ada sank to her bed, head pounding and stomach cold. “What? Who?”
“Tina Lancaster.”
Not Tina, Ada said inwardly. Tina was one of her most promising students. Her writing often left Ada feeling less than adequate about her own skill. Ada’s mind thought back to discussions the two of them had had after class, chats that on occasion had stretched into hours-long deep conversations. “I forgot she lives in Langley.”
Tiffany took a steadying breath. “I thought you should know. Before tomorrow.”
Ada collapsed onto her back. “Yeah, definitely. I’m glad you called.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
Ada hung up and placed the phone on its dock. She pulled the covers up over herself and lay staring at the ceiling for a good hour, her mind racing.
She eventually dozed off, only to jerk awake three hours later. The lights in the room burned into her freshly-woken eyes. She winced and stretched toward the wall switch by the bed. Her eyes fell on the phone sitting innocently on its dock. An insane urge to grab the phone coursed through her. She managed to ignore the urge for about ten seconds, and then the phone was in her hand. She scrolled through her messages and found the number.
Her heart thundered in her ears as she placed the phone to her ear.
The phone rang three times before a generic voicemail message rattled through the speaker. Then a beep.
“Hey, it’s Ada,” she paused for a moment, “Brandt.” Her voice cracked and she quickly cleared her throat. She had to maintain control of this situation, even if it was just during a voicemail. “I heard who the latest victim was. She was one of my students. I’m only doing this for Tina,” Ada paused for a moment to stop a quiver from entering her tone. “I’m sure you’re incredibly busy right now. You can call me back in the morning. I should be out of class around ten. You can reach me then.” She struggled to find a proper salutation and came up empty. Frazzled, she abruptly ended the call and clicked the phone back onto its dock.
“What did I just do?” she sighed as she fell back into her pillows.
CHAPTER 6
The next morning, as Ada made her way through campus, there was a distinct lull everywhere. Clusters of students were huddled together. No one seemed remotely motivated to rush to classes. Ada passed one girl softly crying against another girl’s shoulder. Ada caught the eye of the comforting girl and gave her a small smile.
News of Tina had spread quickly, despite the size of the campus. Students that Ada was sure had never met Tina were still visibly touched by her death. The campus buildings seemed overrun with shuffling zombie throngs of shell-shocked students.
Ada made it to the faculty hall of the Casey Building with a few minutes to spare. She glanced in Tiffany’s office on the way to her own. It was still dark, and the door was locked. Ada continued four doors down and inserted her key into the lock.
When the door opened before she could even turn the key, Ada cried out. She inhaled sharply as the door opened to reveal a thirty-something African American woman dressed in a black pant suit with black leather boots just peeking out from the cuff. She wore minimal makeup, but her strong features hardly needed enhancing.
“Who the hell are you?” Ada stammered as she gripped a hand over her satchel strap. “And why are you in my office?”
The woman swept a welcoming arm toward the interior of the office. “Please,” she said, her voice oddly soothing. “You don’t have to stand in the hallway.” When Ada didn’t move, the woman sighed and pulled a badge from her pocket and flashed it quickly at Ada. “Please?”
Ada knew an FBI badge when she saw one. She cautiously moved through the doorway, keeping her gaze locked on the mystery woman. Once in the office, she rushed to her desk. Placing her bag on her seat, Ada planted herself behind the barricade of her desk. “How did you get in here?” she demanded.
“I asked,” the woman replied as she walked to Ada’s desk. She extended a hand across the desk. “Brenda Stine. I’m an agent with the BAU.”
This news brought a frown to Ada’s face as she accepted Brenda’s handshake. “James sent you.”
“Agent Deacon asked me to serve as your liaison with the investigation,” Brenda said. “I’m to fill you in on the case so far and to see when you’ll be available to come in.”
Ada narrowed her eyes. “I thought I was just serving as an analyst?”
“You are.”
“Then why do I need to ‘come in?’” Ada air-quoted the last two words.
“It would be easier to bring you to headquarters to start reviewing our files. Agent Deacon believes it would also be beneficial for you to work scenes with us. Outside opinions are sometimes the missing piece in solving a case.”
“I can’t be gallivanting around Seattle. I have teaching obligations. This,” Ada motioned around her, “is my main priority. If James has a problem with that, I’ll be taking back my offer to help.”
Brenda’s lips tightened into a thin line. Her hands calmly came together in front of her and she nodded. “Well, we’ll see what we can work out. I suppose I can have copies of a few key files sent to you so you can look at what we’ve developed so far.”
“Sounds good,” Ada said as she glanced at her desk clock. “I actually have a class in twenty minutes. You’re welcome to come back this afternoon—”
The door swung open and Tiffany walked halfway into the office, stopping when she saw Brenda.
Ada gave her a tight smile. “Hey, Tiff.”
Tiffany waved and continued staring at Brenda. “Bad time?”
“No, it’s fine. Agent Stine was just leaving,” Ada said.
Brenda nodded at Tiffany and turned to Ada. “I’ll come back this afternoon,” she said. “And you can call me Brenda.”
Ada cracked a slight grin. “Brenda,” she corrected. “I’ll be back in my office around two.”
“I’ll see you then,” Brenda said then turned to leave the office. She flashed Tiffany a polite grin on her way out.
As soon as Brenda stepped through the door, Tiffany slammed it shut. “Agent?” she demanded.
Ada started collecting necessary items for her class. “Long story. Definitely not one I have time to tell right now.”
Tiffany crossed her arms across her chest and cocked her head to the side. “Give me the short version.”
Ada piled her laptop, textbook, and pointer in her arms and trudged to the door. “Walk with me, and I’ll try to get it all out.”
_____
“So, you’re going to be an analyst for the FBI?” Tiffany said, shocked. She sat on the corner of Ada’s desk and shook her head. “That’s so cool.”
“It’s temporary.” Ada placed her laptop on the desk and sat down next to Tiffany. “I’m only doing this because of Tina.”
Tiffany ducked her head and swallowed hard.
“She was one of my best students,” Ada mused, glancing over at Tina’s seat. “I need to help figure out who did this to her.”
Tiffany ran a hand through her tousled blonde waves. “Well, I’m proud of you.” She covered Ada’s hand with hers and squeezed. “Who knows, maybe you’ll fall in love with the FBI and leave all this teaching stuff behind,” she joked, attempting to lighten the mood.
Ada could not have been more grateful that Tiffany had no clue about her past. “I highly doubt that,” Ada snorted.
Students trickled into the classroom and meandered to their seats. No one uttered a word. Tiffany stood from her corner perch. “That’s my cue,” she murmured. “You up for lunch? I forgot to bring mine today.”
“Sure. I just need to be back in time for office hours.”
Tiffany nodded and gave Ada a little wave as she exited the classroom. Reluctantly, Ada turned her attention to the occupied desks and surveyed the faces in her classroom. The faces pointed back at her were expressionless. Everyone sat hunched down in their seats, staring forward at nothing.
The room felt ready to burst with the amount of tense silence pressing against its walls. Ada crossed swiftly to the door and shut it. She paused and looked back at the students, then up at the queued lecture on the overhead screen. Without a second thought, she pulled the remote from her pocket and shut off the screen.
A handful of students noticed and roused themselves from their stupors. The rest continued to sit motionless.
Steeling herself, Ada walked slowly to her desk and leaned against it. She cleared her throat before beginning, “I’m not going to pretend that today’s a normal day. I know the last thing any of you want to hear is my lecture.”
This got the attention of more students.
“We all knew Tina. We all spent time with her here, every week. Even if you didn’t know her personally, she was a part of this room, and now that part is missing.” Ada wanted to tell them about the FBI, wanted to let them know that she planned to find answers, closure. Instead, she found herself saying, “If you just want to sit here for the next couple of hours, that’s fine. If you need to talk, that’s fine, too. If you want to leave o
r write or talk to each other, feel free. Take all the space and time you need right now.”
A few muffled sniffs sounded around the room. One girl passed around a packet of tissues. Ada gave the class a small smile and walked around the desk to her chair. She sat down and glanced at her clasped hands.
No one moved in the room for what felt like hours. Then, Ada watched as one girl, Lionni, stood from her seat and rushed down to the front of the room. Ada barely stood to her feet before she was engulfed in Lionni’s slim arms. She felt her shirt grow damp as endless tears fell from Lionni’s eyes onto Ada’s shoulder.
As Ada comforted Lionni in front of a class of mourning students, any ounce of doubt she had in her decision vanished. The FBI would find this psychopath, and she would do whatever she could to help make that happen.
_____
Dade Wylan always wanted to be a cop. He had grown up watching crime movies and shows, pretending every stick he found in his backyard was some type of firearm. He would “patrol” his neighborhood on his bike, keeping a watchful adolescent eye on his surroundings.
When it came time to go to college, Dade disappointed his mother and enrolled in the police academy, following in his late father’s footsteps. He graduated top of his class and was quickly promoted through the ranks, but none of his accomplishments had improved his mother’s opinion of what he had chosen to do with his life. To this day, Dade wondered if his father had still been alive if his mother would have objected at all to Dade’s decision.
It wasn’t until he fought his way into an open slot on the FBI BAU team that his mother had actually paid him a small token of praise. One of Dade’s proudest moments was showing his mother his FBI badge and seeing an impressed smile touch her lips. His mother still thought he was being “much too reckless,” but he knew for a fact she had told some of her friends about his new job with the bureau. That small sign of pride was enough to make Dade smile like a fool for a week straight.
