by James Hunt
“Your parents are coming to get you soon.” Cooper nudged the girl in the pigtails. “Do you know his name?”
The little girl looked over and nodded. “That’s Ronnie.”
“Hey, Ronnie.” Cooper kept her voice an octave higher, doing her best to mask the frenzied panic wanting to take hold of her. When the boy didn’t look up she motioned for Hart to come over. “I need you to get everyone out of the room except for him.”
“You want me to move them outside?”
“No, keep them in the building.” Hart complied with the request, and with the help of the officers and teacher they moved the kids into the main play room. The teacher stopped Ronnie at the door and once it was just the three of them, Cooper motioned for the teacher to leave, and the two were left alone. Ronnie fiddled with his tiny fingers, his chin pressed to his chest as he continued to stare at his feet. She approached slowly. “Ronnie, my name is Detective Cooper.” The boy didn’t look up, and Cooper dropped to her knees so she could meet him at eye level. “Ronnie, did someone you don’t know try and talk to you today?” The boy shifted his weight from side to side. After a few seconds he finally nodded his head. Cooper gently grasped Ronnie’s shoulders and lowered her head, trying to look him in the eye. “Was this person a man or a woman?”
“A man.”
Cooper smiled. “That’s good. You’re doing a good job, Ronnie. Now, can you tell me what he told you?” The boy paused longer this time and swung his arms as he turned his torso. “It’s okay to tell me,” Cooper encouraged him. “I want to make sure that you and your friends here are safe. Do you think you could help me do that? Help me keep them safe?” Ronnie nodded then finally looked up. Freckles dotted his nose and cheeks, and the blue eyes staring back at her were as clear as an afternoon summer sky. “What did he tell you?”
“He said I needed to make sure I don’t let anyone touch my backpack.”
Cooper’s heart rate spiked and she kept hold of Ronnie’s shoulders. “What does your backpack look like?”
“It has a monster truck on it, with really big wheels.”
Cooper kissed Ronnie’s forehead. “You did great.” She led him out to the playroom with the rest of the kids and found Hart with one of the officers. “There’s something in his backpack. I need all of these kids out of here now. And call in the bomb squad.”
In ordered fashion the officers and teacher corralled the kids into the parking lot, and the growing chaos had only worsened outside. Applause erupted at the sight of the children leaving, and they were quickly engirded by a team of SWAT officers and kept away from the crowds.
The bomb squad headed inside, and Cooper waited with Hart near the police line. She scanned the faces, looking for anyone that looked out of place. “I think he’s here,” Cooper said.
“What?”
“I think he’s here, and I think he’s watching.” Cooper walked up and down the police line, Hart mirroring her moves. The shifting crowd had reached the hundreds, and it was impossible to single out anyone suspicious. If the killer was in that madness, she wouldn’t know who he was until he revealed himself.
A hand pulled Cooper around, and her face nearly slammed into Hemsworth’s chest. “There’s nothing in the kid’s pack.”
“What?” She watched the bomb squad exit the building.
One of the choppers passed directly overhead, and the hum of the blades dwarfed Hemsworth’s voice. “We didn’t any traces of explosives in the pack! It’s clean!”
“I need to see it.” Cooper followed Hemsworth back inside along with one of the bomb experts that had examined the boy’s pack personally. She knelt down and rummaged through the opened back. She pushed aside pencils, crayons, papers, coloring books, and a few toys but found nothing but the bottom of the backpack. “This can’t be right. He said someone he didn’t know spoke to him.” She turned over a few of the books, looking through the pages to see if there was anything written down, any messages left behind, but came up blank. Cooper snapped the book shut and shook her head. “I need to talk to the boy again.”
With the children safely removed from the building a large portion of the spectators had disappeared, the drama worn off. However, some of the parents had arrived, and their panicked screams had replaced the murmur of the large crowd. Cooper motioned for a few of their people to regain control, then turned her attention to Hart. “Get the parents out of the crowds. Have the teacher confirm who they are along with their photo ID before they’re allowed to see their children. And I don’t want any of them leaving before I speak to them.”
Hart nodded and jogged over to assist. Cooper pushed her way through the SWAT officers toward the kids, and looked for the bright-red beacon that was Ronnie’s hair, but at first glance he was gone. And after a second sweep with the same result she clawed into the arm of one of the officers on watch. “There’s a kid missing.”
“What?” he asked.
Cooper shoved him hard then found the teacher. “Where’s Ronnie?” She clutched the teacher with both hands and shook her. “Did his parents come?”
“I-I-I don’t know,” the teacher said. She looked around to the police officers, and she had to shout over the sirens, the crowd, the helicopters, and traffic. “I just saw him a moment ago in the circle. He was right there!” She pointed to an empty spot on the pavement next to the little girl with pigtails.
“I know where he went!” The little girl raised her hand, stretching it high into the air. “One of the policemen took him.”
Cooper released the teacher and sprinted to the police tape. She scanned the fleeing crowds for the carrot top but saw nothing. She penetrated the crowd, pulling her radio. “I need all officers to locate a boy, aged three, red hair, last seen wearing a blue shirt and green shorts.” She shoved the masses from her path toward the back of the horde. “Baltimore PD, make way! Baltimore PD, move!” The last few obstacles removed themselves from her path, and Cooper was alone in the middle of the street. She spun in circles, her mind processing every image that filtered through her eyes. She stopped on one of her sweeps to the left, and took a double-take at a fleeing squad car with Ronnie’s crying face visible in the back windshield.
Cooper sprinted to her squad car and jumped inside. She cranked the engine to life and reached for the radio as she flipped on her lights. Tires squealed and drifted clouds of smoke and burnt rubber into the crowds. “This is Detective Cooper. I am in pursuit of suspect heading north on Hampton Street. He is driving a Baltimore Police vehicle, and he has a child hostage. Age three, male.” She turned the wheel hard right onto the main street where the killer had fled, still clutching the radio in her hands. “I need air support to track the suspect’s movements, and I need all units to assist.”
The radio spewed affirmative responses, and Cooper watched the taillights of the killer’s cop car turn into a residential neighborhood. Oncoming traffic stopped as Cooper sped in hot pursuit into the gated community.
The killer’s vehicle swerved violently down the narrow streets, and Cooper struggled to keep pace as she sideswiped a few of the cars parked street-side. She white knuckled the steering wheel, the car jerking from side to side. Her body tensed. Sweat beaded on her face. She floored the accelerator, her heartbeat revving in time with the engine. Lights flashed in her rearview mirror from the approaching cavalry, and the thump of helicopter blades erupted overhead, radioing their view of the scene from above. “Suspect is now heading east, and— Wait, he’s pulled into the front yard of a house, and he’s exiting the vehicle.”
The seatbelt pulled tight against Cooper’s body as she turned a sharp left where the killer had fled. She watched the killer, still dressed in full SWAT gear, pull Ronnie from the backseat with a pistol to his head then sprint inside the house.
The front of Cooper’s squad car lifted off the ground and over the curb as it landed into the home’s front yard. With the car still running, she jumped out, her gun aimed at the open front door the killer had dis
appeared into. She approached wearily, methodically scanning the inside of the house. She checked both sides of the door before she entered as police cars screeched to a stop out front.
Family pictures lined the hallway, and she squinted into the darker recesses of the house. She slowed the closer she inched to the end of the hall, and peered around the corner, her fingers curled over the pistol’s grip like a vice. Fueled on adrenaline, Cooper stepped into the living room, where she saw Ronnie in the arms of the killer, a gun to his head and being used as a human shield. “Let him go!”
But the killer only pressed the end of the pistol harder into the boy’s skull. The black cloth of the mask covered everything except his eyes. “Put your gun down, or I put a bullet through the kid’s head.” His finger was placed over the trigger. “You wouldn’t want to be the cause of another child’s death, would you?”
Cooper snarled and took a step forward, refusing to lower her weapon, but the killer only pressed the barrel harder into Ronnie’s head, and the boy screamed. Her rage boiled over at the sound. “You fucking prick!” She spit the words through gritted teeth, and her knuckles cracked from the increased pressure. “I swear to God, if you hurt him—”
“You’ll what? You’ve let four die so far, Detective. Why do you think your luck will change now? You won’t be able to save Beth.”
The man’s voice differed slightly from the one she heard on the phone call, but with the mask muffling his voice, she couldn’t be sure if the two were the same. “If you need a hostage, then take me.”
“Hostage? I don’t need a hostage for this. I don’t even need a gun. All I need is you, Detective. You’re going to get me out of this.”
Cooper tilted her head to the side. Something was wrong. The gun in the killer’s hand shook, and his voice lacked the sophistication she remembered over the phone. He sounded nervous, and her killer never portrayed weakness. “Who are you?”
“The man you’ve been looking for,” the killer said meekly. “And right now every single FBI agent has surrounded the house, waiting for the signal to move in and take me out.” He rotated the arm that held Ronnie, and the boy trembled. “Every eye is on us.”
Cooper slowly lowered her weapon. “Where is she?” She took a careful step forward. “Where’s Beth?”
The killer continued to tremble and took a step back, which landed him flush against the wall. “You still haven’t put all of the pieces of the puzzle together?” He offered a weak laugh. “It’s all right in front of you, Detective, but be careful, because if you get too close, you might miss what’s right underneath your nose.”
The gunshot shattered the window to her left, and the killer’s body dropped to the carpet along with Ronnie. Cooper rushed to him, picking the boy off the killer’s dead body. She wrapped him up in her arms as he screamed into her shoulder while the FBI burst through every entrance the house had to offer, all of them armed, and all of them pointing their guns at the killer’s dead body.
Cooper cradled Ronnie and stroked the back of his head as he cried. “It’s okay, Ronnie. Shh, it’s all right. You’re fine now. You’re safe.”
Hemsworth appeared in the living room, and one of the paramedics removed the boy from Cooper’s arms. Once Ronnie was gone she stepped toward the killer’s dead body, but Hemsworth stopped her. “That was reckless, Detective. You should have waited for backup. The boy could have died.”
“What the hell was that, then?” Cooper yanked her arm free, marching toward the corpse a pair of medics were transferring to a gurney. She eyed the cloth over his face, eager to unmask his identity. But before she could reach him a cluster of hands pulled her back, dragging her out of the house.
Outside Hart came to her aid, shoving the FBI agents off her as Hemsworth followed the stretcher out the front door, the body covered in a white sheet, and intercepted Cooper before she could interfere again. “You are out of line, Detective!” Anger thundered from his voice, and his face flushed a bright red.
“I’m out of line?” Cooper asked, aghast. “Then who ordered that fucking shot!” She shoved Hemsworth in the chest, her motion barely causing the big man to flinch. “I needed him alive!”
“It was my order. I told my team if they had a clear shot to take it.” Hemsworth stood firm then thrust his finger into Cooper’s face. “The boy was never in any danger. But you can be damned sure I’ll be telling Farnes about this cowboy shit.”
With the adrenaline from the confrontation still fresh in her veins, Cooper punched him in the jaw. “You fucking bastard!” But before she could hit him again he blocked her swing, and the scuffle was broken up by Hart and a few of the agents.
Hart lifted Cooper off the ground and flung her backward as she kicked and thrashed wildly. The news cameras had already arrived and flocked to the scuffle, but a few of the officers managed to keep them back while Hart hid Cooper from view behind one of the SWAT vehicles. “What the hell is the matter with you? Are you trying to get thrown off the force?”
“That wasn’t our guy!” Cooper slammed her fist into the side of the van. The pain from the punch reverberated from her knuckles all the way up to her shoulder.
“What are you talking about?” Hart asked, looking back toward the ambulance wheeling the body away. “He took the kid. The same kid you narrowed down with the backpack. Who else could it be but our guy?”
“Then where’s Beth?” Cooper moved closer, the madness in her voice rising. “You weren’t in there. He was nervous. Someone was feeding him words, telling him what to say.” Cooper pressed against the van’s side and slammed her head backward, denting the metal, the pain numbing the rest of her body. “The killer’s still out there, Hart. And I don’t know how much longer my sister is going to last.”
Chapter 11
Every piece of evidence from the case was plastered on the wall. Cooper had studied it for the past hour, chewing her nail down to the nub. Outside her office door the precinct was buzzing with celebration. But despite the calls from the governor, the chief of police, sheriff, and director of the FBI, Cooper couldn’t take her eyes off the evidence in front of her. What are you trying to tell me?
Cooper analyzed it from every angle. She looked at the victims’ places of birth, their health records, where they worked, played, vacationed, banked, lived, relatives, anything and everything that would connect them somehow. But the only thing they shared in common was the killer and the tragedy he inflicted on their lives.
The door opened and Hart stepped inside, momentarily exposing her to the celebrations beyond her wall, but ended once the door was closed. “The chief’s asking to speak with you, and so is the governor.” He stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the evidence on the wall. He gripped her by the shoulders.
Cooper shoved him aside, shifting her focus to the pictures of the dug-up grave at Westminster Hall. “They still need to check his DNA against what we found on Kate Wurstshed’s body.” She pulled the picture off the wall and took a closer look. “Until that happens all we have is a dead body in the morgue.” She sat, squinting at the photo, a thought stirring within the deep recesses of her mind. The thought traveled down every corner and crevice, but only reached a dead end. She tossed the picture away, disgusted, and rubbed her temples.
“Hey.” Only Hart’s face was viewable over the tall stack of case files that were a constant presence on their desks. His voice was soft, calm. “We’ll find her.”
The pain Cooper had kept at bay threatened to finally doom her. A tear had opened in her chest, and with every beat of her heart she felt blood splash from her body. “If that was the killer... if he really is dead... then so is Beth.” She leaned back, and the chair rolled a few inches as she slouched. “He wouldn’t have kept her alive if he knew he was going to die.”
At a loss for words Hart reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. But despite the act of empathy, Cooper’s frustration only reached a boil. “It just doesn’t make any sense!” Cooper shot up from her
chair and paced around the room. She eyed the window of their office and the view of the celebrations it offered. She curled her upper lip and looked back to the wall. “Why would he be so careless? He had to have known what would happen the moment he took that kid. He had to have known we would have caught him. There were too many cards stacked against him. He boxed himself into a corner.”
Hart shrugged. “You said it yourself that these guys wanted to be caught. Maybe he just got tired of waiting for us to catch up.”
Cooper shook her head. “But this was too fast, too soon. We didn’t have anything on him. Nothing. And he knew that.” The evidence on the wall taunted her, its secrets still a mystery. “There has to be a connection. There’s something here that we’re not seeing.”
Hart picked the picture of the grave site off the floor and pinned it back to the wall. He clapped Cooper’s shoulder and walked to the door. “I’ll let you know when we hear back from the morgue.”
Alone, Cooper backed to the opposite wall across from the whiteboard. The pieces blended together to form a larger picture. What were you trying to tell me? But no matter how long she stared at that wall, she just couldn’t answer her own question.
With her eyes burning and her mind swimming in fatigue, Cooper sat down and folded her arms on the desk, resting her head on top. She felt the weight of the case fall with her, and in that small sliver of space between her and the desk the helplessness that she’d staved off for so long finally took hold of her consciousness. She was alone. Beth was the last link to her past, her family, her childhood, and her soul. Over the years the cases she’d worked had slowly taken small pieces of her along the way. It was a burden of the job.
But despite the pain she knew the cost of her sacrifices were worth the capture of all the murderers, rapists, thieves, and thugs she put behind bars. And she’d happily trade all of those arrests to find this one man. In her twenty years on the force she never wanted to kill, but this man had pushed her over the edge.
