by Lisa Harris
“You okay?” Sam asked, pulling out of the parking lot.
“Besides the fact that there’s another girl missing?” He blew out a sharp breath. “I just spoke to Jordan Lambert. You remember, the agent who was here from the FBI? She told me that her mom’s gone into hospice.”
“Hospice . . . wow. I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve lost both my parents, so I know how hard that is.”
“How long ago?”
“My mother died over a decade ago, but I lost my father about eighteen months ago. He’d just turned eighty-nine. And you know what, I still miss him.”
“Did he live around here?” Garrett asked.
“They owned a farm outside Nashville. Forty acres of pastureland. Up until the last six months or so of his life I could show up and still find him out fixing the roof on his house or repairing fences. He always amazed me.”
“Sounds like the two of you were close.”
“We didn’t always see eye to eye, but yeah, we were close.” Sam glanced at Garrett as he pulled onto the highway. “What about you? Did your leaving the family firm cause any ripples?”
Garrett laughed. “Ripples? How about tidal waves. Expectations were for me to become a lawyer and marry the right southern girl.”
“Can I assume that marrying the girl didn’t work out either?”
“Nope.” Garrett dug into the unwanted memory. “I did get engaged, though, to the right girl. At least according to my parents. And I actually thought she was the one for a while. Problem was, her father was a developer who had a pile of unethical moves in play, and he wanted me to help him skirt the law. When I confronted him, he told me it was the price we paid to get to where we were. Money. Prestige.”
He’d tried to justify defending men like Benjamin Hagan, while living out his Christian faith. But in the end, after his confrontation with Hagan, the only option he could live with was walking away from it all.
“And your fiancée?” Sam asked.
“Apparently, she approved of her father’s deeds. Six weeks before the wedding, she broke things off.”
“I bet that caused a huge stink.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“So after that?”
“I decided I’d had enough. I left the firm and joined the police academy, and to be honest, I’ve never looked back.”
“This life isn’t so bad. My wife and I have been married thirty-one years, and she puts up with my long hours and obsessive cases. Though I also know that she’s waiting for me to retire. But I’m not sure I can. Not yet, anyway. Not when there are cases like this to solve.”
“Then you’re never going to retire,” Garrett said, half serious.
Sam laughed. “I think you’re right. She keeps waiting for me to retire so she can travel. Her dream life would be to spend winters in Florida with our oldest son and his family and summers in Colorado with our youngest.”
“That’s not a bad plan.”
“Maybe not,” Sam said, pulling off the highway, “but it doesn’t give me a lot of motivation to get up in the mornings. This does.”
“And you don’t feel that it’s jaded you after all these years?”
It was a question he’d asked himself more than once over the past year and a half that he’d been working for the department. While he’d never regretted his decision to go into law enforcement, there were days—like today—when he could almost convince himself that defending guys like Sabrina’s father would be a whole lot easier than dealing with the aftermath of a serial killer.
“I hope I’m not jaded, but cases like this—the ones we’ve yet to solve—do grate at me.”
“You think she’s still alive?”
“The odds say no, but until we have a body in the morgue, there’s always a chance.”
Garrett knew the statistics. The first forty-eight hours of a missing persons investigation were the most crucial. Technology, public alerts, and cooperation between law enforcement agencies had enabled officers to solve cases more quickly. Especially when a possible abduction was indicated.
He opened the file Parks had given them and started reading through the notes from the officer who had interviewed Sarah’s parents after her disappearance.
“Sarah’s parents are Rob and Ruth Boyd,” Garrett said, giving Sam the highlights as he read through the notes. “They own the BBQ restaurant where we’re meeting them. They have four children, Sarah is the youngest. There’s another daughter named Nikki who’s a teacher and two boys, Matt and Luke. Sarah and Luke are the only two still living at home, but all live here in Nashville.”
“Sounds like an all-American family. What about Sarah?”
“According to her teachers, she gets good grades, stays out of trouble, and is well liked.”
“So there’s no chance that she simply ran away with her boyfriend?”
“I don’t think we should rule anything out, but that seems to be the consensus.”
Ten minutes later, Sam pulled into the parking lot of Boyds’ BBQ restaurant, located in a prime location in downtown Nashville. The restaurant wouldn’t open for another couple of hours. The family had asked if they would meet them here where they’d set up a command post to find Sarah.
Garrett breathed in the smell of smoked sausage as he walked into the restaurant, making him wish they were open for breakfast. One of Nashville’s up-and-coming artists played over the restaurant’s sound system, but he barely heard the catchy tune. He shifted his gaze to the reclaimed wood walls of Boyds’ BBQ that displayed dozens of vintage guitars and retro signs, along with sports paraphernalia and photos, primarily of the Tennessee Titans and NASCAR.
Rob and Ruth Boyd met them in the entrance, along with another young woman who, from the resemblance to Sarah, had to be Nikki. Several people bustled around in the background, setting up tables and getting ready to open the restaurant.
“I’m Special Agent Bradford and this is my partner, Special Agent Addison. I spoke with you on the phone a little while ago.”
“Of course.” Rob Boyd introduced his wife and daughter. “Thanks for agreeing to meet us here. We’ve decided to use the restaurant as our base to organize the search for Sarah. It seems like the best place for us to get the word out.”
“It’s not a problem at all,” Garrett said. “Our team has taken over your daughter’s case, and while we realize this is difficult, we feel it’s important to do a follow-up interview to ensure we don’t miss anything crucial.”
Nikki showed them to a large room in the back of the restaurant where a dozen people were working. “I’m coordinating volunteers. We’re putting up flyers, sending updates to the news outlets, and making sure we have a presence on social media.”
“That’s great. I hope you don’t mind my getting straight to the point. Nikki, I understand you were the one who called 911,” Sam said, as the five of them sat down at the end of one of the long tables. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Nikki nodded, clearly dealing with a lot of emotion. “I was supposed to pick her up after school. I’d promised to take her out for ice cream to celebrate a good grade on an algebra test. On my way to pick her up, I decided to stop at the mall to buy some shoes I’d had my eye on, figuring I’d have plenty of time to grab them on my way and pick her up on time. I ended up getting to the school fifteen minutes late, and when I got there, I couldn’t find her.”
Her mom reached out and squeezed Nikki’s hand.
“I didn’t think much about it at first. I thought she might’ve caught a ride home with a friend. But when I got home, she wasn’t there. That’s when I began to worry that something was wrong. Sarah would never have just left school without telling someone where she was going. That’s when I called 911.
“The police canvassed the neighborhoods, and we spoke to everyone at the school. They set up roadblocks and put out an AMBER Alert. At that point, no one we spoke to saw her get into a car. None of her friends or her friends’ parents. She just . . . v
anished.” Nikki wiped her cheek. “We finally got an eyewitness statement from Cassie, who saw her get into a black car. To be honest, that’s all we know. No one has seen her since. There’s been no activity on her MySpace account, and her phone goes straight to voice mail.”
Sam leaned forward. “I know it’s a hard question to ask, but do you think it’s possible Sarah ran away?”
“No. Not Sarah,” Mrs. Boyd said. “I know every parent probably says this, but Sarah’s got her head on straight. She really does. Except for math, her grades are high, she has good friends . . . She wouldn’t have just run off with some guy.”
Sam and Garrett spent the next twenty minutes asking questions and going over a plan before wrapping things up.
“We appreciate your speaking with us,” Mr. Boyd said, shaking their hands.
“I’ll walk them out,” Nikki said.
She didn’t say anything until they stepped outside into the empty parking lot. Then she stopped and turned to speak to them. “My parents are frantic, as you can imagine, but I’ve managed to convince them not to watch the news. I, on the other hand, have watched the reports. They’re already guessing that Sarah’s disappearance is tied to the Angel Abductor. I need to know if that’s more than just guessing.”
“I know you’re wanting answers,” Garrett said, “and we’ll give them to you as soon as we have them. For now, I can tell you that, yes, we are looking into the possibility that there is a connection to the Angel Abductor. But we’re not ready to jump to any conclusions yet.”
Nikki’s body stiffened at the remark. “Thanks for telling me. But if it is him, there are things that just don’t add up. Like why she’d get into a car with someone she didn’t know. Sarah wouldn’t do that. Ever.”
“And yet we have a witness—one of her close friends—who says she did.”
“I know,” Nikki said. “And I also know you deal with things like this every day, but this is my family and I need to find my sister. Tell me what to do.”
“From what we talked about in there, you’re doing all the right things. We’ll keep you in the loop as to what we’re doing, and we need you to involve us in your plans as well.”
As soon as they’d gotten back into the car to leave, Garrett voiced his questions out loud to Sam, “What do you think? Do you think our abductor—whether he’s our serial killer or not—is actually brazen enough to simply drive away with her from in front of the school?”
“I admit it doesn’t make sense,” Sam said. “The problem is that up to this point there hasn’t been any witness who’s seen him take the girls, but it sure would make more sense if she’d disappeared in some deserted place.”
“On the other hand,” Garrett said, “if this is our Angel Abductor, he’s already proven himself to be both smart and cunning.”
Sam pulled out of the parking lot and merged into traffic. “The theory’s come up before that he could be someone in law enforcement or someone impersonating an officer. If she thought someone—maybe her sister—had been injured and she thought he was law enforcement, she might have gone with him willingly.”
Garrett’s cell phone rang and he grabbed it out of his jacket pocket. “Michaels,” he said, putting the phone on speaker. “What have you got?”
“We just finished with the press conference, and the media is chomping at the bit for answers. But here’s what you need to know. Uniforms canvassing the school grounds just found a Polaroid photo of Sarah.”
Garrett let out a low groan. “Which means we’re no longer speculating about a connection.”
“What about a body?” Sam asked.
“So far all we’ve got is the photo found about a quarter of a mile from where she got into the car.”
“Any fingerprints?” Garrett asked.
“We’ll send it to the lab, but it doesn’t look like it.”
“I want you to make sure the scene is secure,” Sam said. “Have the metro police broaden their search to see if we can come up with any more witnesses. Someone had to have seen something.”
“We’re on our way now.” Garrett checked the time. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
Garrett shivered as he stood in the wooded area where they’d found the photo. Sarah’s disappearance was shaping up to mirror that of victim number two, Becky Collier, who had never been found. The other three victims’ bodies had been found near the Polaroid photos of them. Which led to a slew of unanswered questions. What had been different about these two girls? Were they still alive? Had they escaped? Or had the authorities, for whatever reason, simply never found their bodies?
Garrett stared at the Polaroid shot of Sarah Boyd. It was a stark contrast from the smiling photo clipped to her file. He’d seen the same look on the other girls’ faces in the pictures found near their bodies. The realization of what had probably happened to her turned his stomach. Kids her age should be getting ready for summer vacation, not worrying about being abducted in broad daylight.
“So what do you think happened?” He turned to Sam. “Why leave the photo and not the body?”
“Maybe that wasn’t his plan. Maybe something spooked him. Or maybe his MO is evolving. Changing.”
“Maybe. What we do know is that he was here.”
“Which is why we’re going to put this area under a microscope. This guy has to make a mistake at some point, and when he does, we’re going to get him.”
But they needed to get him before another girl turned up dead.
Garrett walked the grid, circling out from where they’d found the photo. If the perpetrator wanted to bury her, this would be a perfect spot. Isolated. Quiet. If she was dead, why wasn’t she here?
Sam picked up a package of weed and slipped it into an evidence bag. “Someone’s been out here tokin’ up.”
“Doesn’t really surprise me,” Garrett said. “I’m sure all kinds of unsavory things go on in these woods.”
“Here’s the interesting thing,” Sam said. “It rained hard two nights ago and this packaging is dry. The bag is ripped, but there aren’t any signs of water damage.”
“Which puts whoever had this here in the same time frame as our killer.”
“We need to run this for fingerprints.”
“How fast can we get it?” Garrett asked.
“I’ll pull a couple favors and see if I can’t get it to the front of the line. Then we’re looking at two, maybe three hours.”
Garrett nodded. “And in the meantime, we need to speak to the last person who saw Sarah alive.”
11
11:47 a.m.
TBI Headquarters
Garrett walked into the lobby of the bureau headquarters where Mrs. Stratton and her daughter Cassie sat waiting to be interviewed. Cassie looked to be about the same age as Sarah. She sat in a chair, wearing jeans and a shirt with the British flag. Her eyes were red as if she’d been crying. She stared at her phone. Yesterday, she’d been just like Sarah. A young girl with her entire life ahead of her. And now her best friend was gone and everything she knew to be safe and okay had just been shattered.
“Mrs. Stratton . . . Cassie?” Garrett stepped in front of them. “I’m Special Agent Garrett Addison. I appreciate your coming down on such short notice.”
Mrs. Stratton glanced at her daughter, then said, “Give us a minute, will you, Cassie.”
Her daughter shrugged her shoulders and went back to doing whatever she’d been doing on her phone.
Garrett motioned her mother to the other side of the room. “Is everything all right?”
“I just need you to know that Sarah was Cassie’s best friend. She feels incredibly guilty over the fact that she watched someone drive her away without realizing what was happening. To have to relive that again and again . . . I’m just worried about her.”
It happened far too often in cases he’d dealt with. Guilt from surviving a tragedy when someone you loved didn’t. Guilt from second-guessing how you should have dealt with a situation. But there wa
s no way to turn back the clock. Just like there had been no way for Cassie to have known Sarah’s life was in danger.
“I know this is extremely hard on both of you,” Garrett said. “But please know that our only interest in speaking with her is finding Sarah.”
“I understand, but before you talk to her . . . please keep in mind what I said. I know there’s no way to erase what’s happened, and I know that what Sarah’s family is going through is a hundred times worse than what Cassie’s experiencing, but she’s still my baby.”
A minute later, they met Sam inside the interview room that was supposed to make victims and their families more comfortable, though he doubted it ever did.
“Cassie, this is my partner, Agent Sam Bradford,” Garrett said, slipping into the seat across from her. “We appreciate your coming down here to talk with us. I know this has been a rough couple days for you.”
“So you haven’t found Sarah yet?” There was a hint of expectation in Cassie’s voice. Like she’d been secretly hoping they’d really called her in to tell her that they’d found Sarah. Instead, they were going to have to disappoint her.
“I’m sorry,” Sam said, “but we’re doing everything we can to make sure she comes home safe. And one of those things we need to do is verify what you said in your statement to ensure we don’t miss anything.”
“Okay.” Cassie sniffled, and her mom handed her a tissue from her purse. “I just . . . I just can’t stop crying.” She blew her nose, then wadded the tissue between her fingers. “If I would’ve waited with Sarah instead of walking off, this might never have happened.”
“Before we start, there is something I want you to know,” Garrett said, leaning forward. “It’s easy to blame yourself. But you had no way of knowing what was happening. You have nothing to be sorry about or to feel guilty about, for that matter. This isn’t your fault. Do you understand that?”
