Deadly Relations

by Alexa Grace

  Blake drove and Jennifer scouted the area on the way to the high school. It was Saturday and the March weather was warmer than usual, so there were a lot of young people about. When they reached the track, there were a number people running, but mostly jocks. No sign of Catherine.

  Though they’d work together for a couple of years, it was the first time Jennifer had been alone in a car with Blake. She usually rode with her partner, Dick Mason, who was on vacation. Jennifer didn’t know if it was the subtle scent of musk and man, or the way he kept glancing at her that made her senses alert and her heart beat against her ribs. When she didn’t think he was looking, she checked Blake out. His massive shoulders filled the jacket he wore, his thigh muscles strained against his khakis.

  Blake had a ruggedly handsome face and dark features that spoke volumes about his Italian heritage. The man was hot. She’d give him that. Actually, she’d give him more than that. He was the first man in five years that she was remotely attracted to. Not that she was going to do anything about it. He was a member of the same investigative team she was. No relationships allowed. Period. It was career suicide for a female in law enforcement, and there was no other job she’d rather do.

  “How do I rate?” Blake said, breaking the silence.

  “What?” She said, startled by his abrupt question.

  “You’ve been staring at me since we left the high school. So how do I rate?”

  At first she froze, speechless. After a long moment, she said what usually worked in situations like this, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She focused on looking out the window so he wouldn’t see how red her face was.

  They next stopped at the Sugar Creek Cafe to see if Catherine had reported for work, but no one there had seen her. The waitresses who had worked Catherine’s shift the day before were off. Jennifer and Blake would have to return the next day to interview them.

  Jennifer scanned the restaurant and noticed Nicholas Connor, Catherine’s boyfriend, sitting alone in a booth. She and Blake joined him.

  “Hi, Nicholas. Good to see you,” said Blake as he waited for Jennifer to slide in the booth seat. He took off his jacket and tossed it across the back of his seat. “You’re just the guy we’re looking for.”

  “Nicholas, we’re looking for Catherine. Do you know where she is?” Jennifer studied his face. Nicholas looked surprised to see them. But why wouldn’t he be? It wasn’t like they lunched with him on a regular basis.

  “No, I haven’t seen her since Thursday afternoon. Why are you looking for Catherine?” His eyebrows rose inquiringly.

  “Her parents said she didn’t come home last night. I thought she might have been with you.”

  Nicholas looked annoyed. “Catherine’s mom already called me this morning. I’ll tell you what I told her. No, we didn’t see each other last night.”

  Jennifer noticed that there was no eye contact when Nicholas responded, which made her wonder if he was telling the truth. Something was off with him, but she couldn’t pinpoint what — yet. “What about yesterday afternoon?”

  “Yeah, I saw her at my house after her shift.”

  “Why didn’t you mention that before?” asked Blake as he shot Nicholas a don’t-yank-me-around glare. A couple of diners at the next table stared at them, and Jennifer poked him in the ribs.

  “You asked me if she spent the night.”

  Blake leaned across the table. “Listen, asshole, if you’re going to play games with us, we can move this little talk to the sheriff’s office.”

  “No, that won’t be necessary.”

  Jennifer dove in with a question, “So, what did you do last night, Nicholas?”

  “I stayed home alone, ordered a pizza and watched TV until late.”

  “Anything good on TV? What did you watch?” Maybe Nicholas was telling the truth, maybe not. Jennifer was placing her bets on not.

  “Watched the Pacers vs. Miami Heat on ESPN.”

  “Cool, was it a good game?” One look at the Pacers ESPN schedule on her laptop would make or break his story. In addition, there was only one pizza place in town that delivered, so a quick call to them was in order, too.

  <><><>

  The next day, Jennifer attended a staff briefing at the station, led by Sgt. Lane Hansen, her boss. With the exception of her partner, Dick Mason, who officially was on vacation, the entire department was in attendance to discuss the girl they would search for.

  “Our missing person, Catherine Thomas, is five feet and six inches tall and weighs 115 pounds with an athletic build. She is Caucasian with light brown hair and blue eyes. She was last seen on Thursday by her parents in their home prior to leaving for a run. She drives a white 2010 Honda Civic. The license number is in your report.” He nodded at Jennifer as a signal to give the information she’d collected to the group.

  “I ran Catherine’s credit card and bank records,” Jennifer reported. “No recent activity on her credit cards. The bank debit card was used to fill her car with gas yesterday at 3:10 p.m. at a Shell Gas Station on Third Street. That was the last time it was used.”

  Blake Stone spoke next. “I did Catherine’s cell phone history as well as the cell tower report. The last ping from her phone to a cell tower was near Deer Run State Park at 5:31 p.m. No activity since then. It looks like she may have turned her cell off after a call from her boyfriend, Nicholas Connor.”

  “Half of you will search the park today covering every trail. Call in if you find anything relevant,” Hansen ordered. “The other half will perform their regular duties.”

  An officer in the back row raised his hand to speak. “Sir, what about the park’s security cameras? Shouldn’t we get their videos?”

  “There are no security cameras at the park,” Stone said. “They didn’t make the budget cut last year. There are lights in the parking area, but no cameras or lights anywhere else in the park.”

  <><><>

  Catherine Thomas awoke from a drugged sleep with every bone in her body aflame. Breathing in and out triggered a torturous throbbing in her head.

  She wanted her mom. Though in her early twenties, Catherine had always needed her mother most when she felt ill. Though she rarely got sick, she knew something was very wrong.

  She shivered as the cold seeped into her consciousness. Why was she freezing? Where were her blankets? Catherine tried to move her legs but they seemed frozen in place. She attempted to stretch her arms, but couldn’t. Her eyelids felt heavy and swollen and she feared the pain that would accompany opening her eyes to the light. But she had to find her mom. Catherine slowly opened her eyes to inky blackness. Was it night time? Her facial muscles flexed involuntarily and she realized something was tied around her eyes. It was then she remembered.

  She and Nicholas had had another fight. This one was a doozy, and she’d slapped him, leaving an ugly red mark across his jaw. Though he hadn’t admitted it, she knew he was seeing someone else. He’d been distant and his usual insatiable desire for sex had diminished so much it was practically nonexistent. There was someone else, and he didn’t have the balls to tell her.

  Consumed with anger, Catherine had rushed out of his house and drove home to change clothes to go for a run. Running had become her salvation. She ran when she needed to think or to drive away her demons.

  She’d changed into her running clothes and was pocketing her keys and cell phone when her dad appeared in the hallway. Catherine remembered smiling at him. For a second, she’d been tempted to throw herself into his arms for one of his special bear hugs. But, instead she’d hurried to her car so she could make the most of the remaining light of day.

  Catherine’s original plan was to run at the high school track like she usually did, but once she got there and saw the number of people running, she’d changed her mind. She’d needed some alone time, so she’d backed her Honda Civic out of the lot and headed toward Deer Run State Park ten miles away. If she hurried, she could get her exercise done before the park closed at night
fall. She’d feel better about her fight with Nicholas. Running made her feel better about everything.

  Once inside the park, Catherine had studied a sign that listed each trail and the degree of ruggedness. She’d chosen trail number ten, which was advertised as moderately rugged and would give her a good workout. Maneuvering between several groups of people leaving the park, she’d reached her trail and started out in a jog on the narrow, dirt path. Catherine noticed few people on the trail, and that was fine with her. She valued her alone time and concentrated on the exercise.

  Catherine hadn’t gone far when she reached a wooden platform built over a deep ravine. Peering over the railing, she saw the river surging below and a deer drinking on its bank. She continued down the trail, alternating between jogging and walking, depending on the terrain. It was unseasonably warm for March, and the scent of the tall pine trees and ferns filled her senses. Catherine was calming. With or without Nicholas, she was going to be okay. She was stronger than she gave herself credit for. Who needed Nicholas? She’d go to the Police Academy in eleven months and start the career of which she’d always dreamed.

  Catherine slipped as she made the descent to what the park labeled as the “Ice Cave.” She slid a few feet on her bottom, but was able to stop herself by grabbing a sapling. Pulling herself up, she assessed her injuries to be just some scratches and scrapes on the back of her legs.

  Her senses went on alert. Catherine felt as if someone were watching her, but when her eyes scanned the wooded area, she saw nothing. She continued on the path down the hill.

  Once she’d reached the sandy bottom, she stood before the Ice Cave. A twig snapped. Spinning around, trying to spot any danger, she heard the crackling of dry undergrowth with each step as someone approached nearby. Was someone following her? Catherine launched herself into the next section of the trail, cursing herself for being so angry with Nicholas that she lost all thoughts of personal safety. When she hiked, she always had her small stun gun and a pocket knife with her. Sticking her hands in the pockets of her sweatpants, she felt only her cell phone and keys. She turned her cell phone on only to find there was no signal. Damn. She turned if off again and shoved it back in her pocket.

  Catherine pushed on as the path wound around a steep hill. On one side of her was a thick forest of trees and vegetation, on the other was a slope that led to the rushing creek below. She stopped frequently to look back, but saw nothing. Figuring she was at the half-way point of the trail, she pushed forward and prayed she’d make good time getting to the end.

  The sun was waning in the horizon in hues of orange, pink and red. Daylight was running out, and she quickened her pace as she brushed a spider’s web from her face. The crunch of brittle leaves and twigs behind her continued, but each time she searched the thicket of woods, she saw dark shadows sheathing the trees as the light diminished — but no humans in sight.

  Turning a bend, Catherine lost her footing again and tumbled down the descent of the dirt path. She crashed face-down to the bottom of the slope, knocking the wind out of her. She lay on her stomach for a short while as she sucked in air to fill her lungs.

  Catherine felt him nearby, rather than saw him. She rolled over and looked up at him. She recognized him. Thank God. She’d seen him at the cafe. Catherine smiled at him as he offered his hand to help her up. Grasping his hand, she pulled herself up and was about to thank him for his help when he swung her around, slamming her body against his, gripping her in place with his left arm locked around her neck. Catherine’s eyes widened in terror as she noticed the hypodermic needle in his right hand. An explosion of pain rocked throughout her body. Her world went to black as he plunged it in her neck.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs with the memory. Where was she? She tried to move her arms and legs again, but it was impossible. The effort to move caused the structure she was lying on to creak and rock. Catherine moved her fingers to scratch at the surface and realized she was secured on a long, wooden table. He had her strapped to a wooden table, with a dark blindfold stretched across her eyes! She couldn’t move. She couldn’t see. What was he going to do to her? A primal scream started in the depths of her chest and rushed through her throat until she discovered her mouth had been sealed shut with tape, muffling the scream into a moan.

  Chapter Three

  Jennifer left the Sugar Creek Cafe, where she’d filled her thermos with hot coffee. She walked down Main Street toward the county sheriff’s building, where Catherine Thomas’s latest search efforts were being organized. March had been fickle thus far, alternating between unseasonably warm or frigid weather. Today, it was chilly, so she tightened the belt on her coat and lifted her collar as she walked against the wind that whipped her hair about, stinging her face and eyes. Though she’d never admit it, she was exhausted and had averaged around four hours of sleep per night since Catherine went missing. When she wasn’t in her car searching for Catherine, she was sitting in front of her computer using the methods Frankie had taught her to look for a missing person. Her cousin, Frankie, was a private investigator with an expertise in technology, and Jennifer had worked for Frankie prior to going to the Police Academy. But Frankie’s sure-fire methods hadn’t worked to find Catherine.

  One look at the gray clouds overhead confirmed what the TV weather guy had said. There was a chance of rain today. At least, she hoped it was just rain. If the temperature dipped below thirty-two degrees, there was a good chance they’d get freezing rain, or what people called “black ice.” That made the roads treacherous to drive, let alone search for a missing person.

  The majority of the businesses in the historic downtown area were located on Main Street for six blocks or more. Most of the buildings had been built a hundred or so years before. They’d been preserved by massive renovations and modernization as time went on.

  The wind was playing havoc with Catherine Thomas’s missing posters, which peppered the trees and light posts. Lining the inside of nearly every shop or restaurant window was the poster for the world to see, with the silent prayer that someone would find her. Fred and Julie Thomas worked tirelessly to get the word out about Catherine’s disappearance.

  Jennifer gritted her teeth as she thought about Catherine. She’d been abducted. Though there was no evidence, she was sure of it. Catherine had been taken against her will, just as Jennifer had been taken years before. The girl was looking forward to going to the police academy. She was not a runaway. There was no way Jennifer would believe Catherine left on her own volition. She had an ominous feeling that time had run out, and their chances of finding Catherine alive were nil. Catherine’s parents hadn’t lost hope of finding her alive, but Jennifer had. She knew the more time that elapsed, the less likely they would find Catherine alive. Like most detectives, Jennifer knew that time and again when they didn’t find the missing person within forty-eight hours, it was likely the person was dead.

  It was Thursday and Catherine had been missing for five days — a time period painfully realized by every member of the county sheriff department. The staff took it personally. The sheriff, each of his officers, and all the admins wore a yellow arm band that matched the yellow ribbon tied around a huge oak tree in the Thomas’s front yard. People don’t go missing on their turf, on their watch.

  So much time had elapsed that most of the sheriff’s team had lost hope that Catherine was alive, just as Jennifer had. The sense of loss made them more determined to find her body so they could focus on what happened to her. While there was a lot of information they’d gain by finding a dead body in terms of prosecuting a killer, there was a lot more satisfaction in finding the missing alive.

  Fear ran rampant, as was evident by increased calls to the station. Paranoid citizens were reporting suspicious strangers, or strange noises outside their homes. High school girls, much to their distress, found themselves with early curfews and increased parental surveillance. Local restaurants were filled with anxious chatter about Catherine, and gossip ran rampant. Peop
le were angry, too, firing blame at the county sheriff’s office for not finding Catherine.

  For the first time since Jennifer could remember, people were locking their doors at nights and leaving on their outside lights. The quiet street she lived on was usually dim at nightfall, with only a few street lamps to light the way. Since Catherine went missing, the street was flooded bright by house, porch, and garage lights.

  As Jennifer approached the sheriff’s building, Jeeps, trucks and ATVs filled the empty parking lot nearby. More than one hundred people, some with hunting dogs, gathered to search for Catherine Thomas the third time since she went missing. The Ladies’ Aid group from the Methodist church had set up a tent and was handing out bottles of water, donuts and sandwiches to volunteers who shuffled by.

  Jennifer watched as Blake Stone divided up the search area and assigned teams to each one. Her father, Frankie, and Lane Hansen stood nearby, waiting to join the search teams. Frankie had brought her Giant Schnauzer, Hunter, which had been trained in search and rescue. The dog had found and rescued several people over the years, including an Alzheimer patient who’d wandered from a nursing home. Hunter found the elderly man lying near a creek, nearly dead from hypothermia. The dog covered the man’s body with his own to provide warmth until help arrived. If anyone could find Catherine, it was Frankie and Hunter.

  Blake divided the group in half. Searchers were assigned in teams of twos and threes to a deputy who would lead their efforts.

  Fifty were assigned to search the Northwest corner of the county, which was mainly farmland and wooded areas. The other fifty searchers would comb Deer Run State Park, where Catherine’s cell phone pinged for the last time. They’d searched the park two times before, but found nothing. Today, the searchers would focus on areas only lightly covered by the last searchers.

  She and Blake were assigned to stay at the command post, and the searchers would communicate their findings to them with cell phones and two-way radios.