The Forgotten

by Linda S. Prather

  Loki went to stand beside Jake. “So, I guess he thinks I’m heartless.” She’d hoped to lighten the mood. Jake hadn’t spoken, but she could tell that when he did, she wasn’t going to like it. She looked at Wilkes. “So now do you think the director will give us some extra people?”

  “Not likely. We still don’t have any concrete proof the man we’re up against is the one who killed the Frances girl.” Wilkes waved toward the car. “You girls want a ride?”

  Loki placed a hand on Jake’s arm. “Are you okay?”

  “I will be,” he said, “as soon I have this bastard in my sights.” He turned and followed Wilkes.

  Teresa walked up beside her. “Why are the tall, dark, and handsome ones such deep thinkers?”

  Loki sighed. “Because they love more fiercely, and the loss of that love cuts deeper.”

  The ride back to the farmhouse was quiet, and they were met at the door by a worried Karen, Grace, and Jules. Loki shook her head at the silent question in Grace’s eyes. Grace turned away and went to the couch to rock Hope.

  “I’m going to check on Bruiser and start dinner,” Loki said with a pointed glance at both Teresa and Karen. “I could use some help in the kitchen.”

  “I’ll see about getting a forensic team in here and give Rosetta a call to see if she’s come up with anything on this guy’s medication,” Wilkes said.

  “Bruiser’s still in the kitchen. I think he’s watching the back door, waiting for you to come in,” Karen said. “We tried to get him to join us in the living room, but he refused.”

  Her heart ached as Bruiser turned when she entered. Karen had been right. He hadn’t moved since she’d left. Loki sat down on the floor next to him. He licked her hand, and she rubbed his head. “How’s the leg, big guy?”

  He pushed himself up and stood in front of her.

  “Good boy.” Loki retrieved the tonic from the cabinet and gave him another teaspoon. “Now, let’s get you in the living room so I can cook and you can heal.”

  He followed her slowly with a walk-and-drag motion, his back leg obviously still causing him pain when he put pressure on it. Her gaze strayed to the barn, and she blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, turning toward the kitchen. A single tear escaped her lashes, and she swiped it away. She missed her nightly visits to Fawn and Midnight.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  “Rosetta has some information for us.” Wilkes clicked on the computer. “We’re all here. Go ahead, Rosie.”

  “Do you want the long version or the short version?”

  Wilkes raised an eyebrow, his gaze going around the table. “Guys?”

  “Let’s go for the long version,” Jake said. “The more we know about this guy, the better chance we have of knowing what he’s going to do next.”

  “Robert Pell filled a prescription for lorazepam in Jackson, Kentucky, shortly before Donna Graves was taken.”

  “What is it?” Loki asked.

  Rosetta grinned. “I was hoping one of you would ask. It’s an antidepressant, one of the benzodiazepines, which can have some severe side effects. The major one being memory loss. Normally used only short term, and sometimes combined in the anesthetic cocktail before surgery.”

  “So what’s it normally used for?” Jake asked.

  “Depression, anxiety, agitation, delirium. As I said, it’s normally only used short term, and our boy has been on it for years.”

  “Do we have a doctor’s name on that prescription, Rosie?” Wilkes asked.

  She grinned at him. “We do. Dr. Mark Shriver, who happened to work at the free clinic there during that time frame. I compared the signature on this prescription with other signatures by Dr. Shriver, and this one is clearly a forgery.”

  “So I guess we know what he’s doing at the free clinics,” Jake said. “Stealing prescription pads.”

  “You said he’d been on it for years?” Loki asked.

  Rosetta nodded. “Robert Pell, Robert Anderson, Robert Graves, Robert Dillon, Robert Clayton, Robert Hops, Robert Greer. That’s the list I’ve found so far going back fifteen years. The prescriptions are only good for one refill. There may be more.”

  “Have you cross-referenced those names with the names of missing girls?” Teresa asked.

  “My next job,” Rosetta said. “But there’s more. Since his mother was using the name Harriett, I decided to check her name using the same surnames above. Before Robert started his prescriptions, Harriett was putting them in her name. I traced it back to Harriett Tatum and then checked for a Robert Tatum. There was a son and a daughter born to Joseph and Harriett Tatum in 1986.”

  The group exchanged looks, all recognizing the name as the owner of the property next door.

  “Twins?” Loki asked.

  Rosetta nodded. “The father later demanded the birth certificate be changed to reflect the daughter was a son.”

  Wilkes frowned. “So did they have two boys or a boy and a girl?”

  “You wanted the long version, sweetie, so have a little patience. I researched the area and found several domestic violence complaints filed by Joseph against Harriett and Harriett against Joseph. He had her institutionalized when the children would have been about five. The daughter went in for surgery shortly after the mother was institutionalized. The little girl killed herself about a year after the operation.”

  “What kind of operation?” Jake asked.

  “Bless you, I didn’t think you’d ever ask. The daughter was born with ambiguous genitalia. It’s rare but does happen, and a child is born with both sexes. Their case was unique as they had twins, one perfectly normal and one the parents had to choose the sex for. The doctors recommended they wait until the child was old enough to form a basic male or female identity. The mother raised the child as a girl from the beginning, but the father wanted a boy, thus the domestic violence complaints.”

  “So after the mother was institutionalized, the father had the surgery performed to turn the little girl into a little boy?” Loki asked.

  “Not quite,” Rosetta answered. “There was a huge storm in Mississippi in 1991. The little girl was found in an alley and taken to the hospital. When they undressed her, they found she had both male and female parts. Social Services entered the scene and encouraged the father to choose one sex or the other for the mental stability of the child. Although the child exhibited a female personality, with the mother institutionalized and the father wanting a boy, the choice was made.”

  “Bloody hell,” Karen whispered. “You said she killed herself?”

  Rosetta nodded. “The father came in from work and found her hanging from the rafters.”

  “What about the little boy?” Dadron asked. “Twins usually have a bond unlike other siblings.”

  “Robert was sitting next to her when his father found them. He didn’t fare well and was placed in an institution for the next year. The mother was released, and the father died shortly after her release. She took custody of the little boy. She tried to sue the state, but the case was dropped. Her attorneys basically told her to forget it.”

  “The forgotten,” Grace said from the kitchen doorway. “I heard her say one night little girls were born to die and be forgotten.”

  Loki crossed to the doorway and hugged her. “That’s not true, sweetheart. Little girls are to be loved and treasured.”

  “Anything else, Rosie?” Wilkes asked solemnly.

  “I’m still searching. I’ll look for property, especially local property, in a sec. I’ll give you a buzz when I finish.”

  “Rosie?”

  “Yes, Brian.”

  “Can you dig up a picture of Harriett Tatum and one of Robert, if you can find it?”

  “Give me five minutes.” The screen went black.

  “I need a drink.” Jake opened the refrigerator and stared at the empty shelf. “Damn.”

  “You still have that bottle of bourbon, Teresa?” Wilkes asked.

  “Almost full,” Teresa said.

  “Go get it.�
�

  “They wouldn’t have put a child on that kind of medication, even if he was institutionalized,” Karen said. “Do you think the mother is keeping him on it to suppress his memories?”

  Wilkes took the bottle of bourbon from Teresa and poured a glass. “That would be my guess.”

  “And it makes sense with what Grace said about his crying and Mother being angry because he wasn’t taking his medicine,” Loki said.

  Jake took the bottle, poured a shot, and drank it quickly. “Now we know who they are, but does any of that help us?”

  “It changes the profile for me,” Wilkes said before taking a long drink. “You were right, Savior. If he wasn’t crazy before, years on that medication would have driven him crazy. It causes hallucinations and delusions. If you get him in your sights, take him down.” He emptied the glass. “Karen, set up a press conference for four.”

  “What are you doing, Brian?” Teresa asked. “You can’t do a press conference without the director’s approval.”

  “We both know he isn’t going to approve anything for me. We know who they are now and that they’re from this area.” He poured a cup of coffee. “A lot of people around here might remember them and let them into their homes.”

  “And anybody who does is going to be dead shortly thereafter,” Jake said.

  “Exactly.” Wilkes turned to stare out the kitchen window, one hand clenched around the coffee cup. “The director isn’t the one who has to live with the fact that someone died because we didn’t do something. We are.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Robert parked in front of the small brick ranch, turned to Mother, and smiled. “You know what you’re supposed to do, right?”

  “Of course, darling.”

  “Stay here.” He unbuckled his seat belt, exited the car, and raised the hood. He jiggled a couple of gadgets and rushed to the passenger side. He stood for a moment then sprinted toward the house as fast as he could and pounded on the door.

  “Just a minute,” the voice called out before the door opened a crack. “What do you want?”

  “My mother, I think she’s having a heart attack or a stroke.” He made his voice breathless, hurried, as if seconds counted. “Our car quit, and I can’t find my cell. I need an ambulance.”

  The woman looked intently at the car, and Mother slumped against the passenger door before Robert heard the sound of the chain lock being released. “I’m a doctor. I’ll take a look at her.” She turned toward the house. “Anna Claire, bring my bag, honey.”

  Robert wasn’t sure whether he should be devastated or filled with joy as the young woman came out of the room on the right, carrying a black bag.

  The older woman took it. “Show Mister…sorry, what was your name?”

  “Dillon. Please hurry.”

  “Show Mr. Dillon where the phone is and call an ambulance.”

  “Follow me, sir.”

  Robert seized Anna Claire from behind and placed a knife at her throat. “Call your mother.”

  “She’s my grandmother,” Anna Claire whispered.

  He shook her. “Then call your fucking grandmother.”

  “Grandma!” Anna Claire screamed.

  The doctor rushed into the house. “What’s wrong?” She dropped the bag and raised her hand to her throat, her eyes seeking his. “Please don’t hurt her.”

  A car door slammed outside, and then came the sound of a hood being closed. Mother hummed as she sashayed into the house, swinging a baseball bat.

  The doctor’s eyes widened. “I know you.”

  Robert watched the exchange, a frown creasing his brow as Mother raised the bat and slammed it into the girl’s left knee. She screamed and jerked, which caused the knife to leave a trail of blood across her chin. He dropped the knife and clamped his hand over her mouth, smothering her screams.

  “You say one more word, old woman, and I’ll break every bone in her body. You hear me?” Mother spewed out.

  She nodded. “Please don’t hurt her anymore. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

  Robert smiled and lowered the girl to the couch before removing his hand from her mouth. He nodded at the bag. “Take care of your granddaughter, Doctor. Then we’ll all have a nice long talk.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “You’re not watching the press conference,” Karen said, coming to stand beside Loki on the back steps. “Is everything okay?”

  Loki stared into the forest, a place she’d always taken comfort from. When she was hurting emotionally, she’d walk there, listen to the birds, track the deer that had drifted close to the house. Now it was tarnished with the image of young girls in slavery, animals tortured for a madman’s pleasure, and death. “I’m not sure anything will ever be the same.”

  “It’s normal to feel that way, Loki. It’s like when a home is burglarized, the victims feel violated.”

  Loki sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t you ever get tired of being the peacemaker, Karen?”

  Karen laughed. “I try to think of it as the voice of reason, and yes, sometimes I want to scream at everyone and tell them to shut the fuck up.”

  “What stops you?”

  “My parents were both psychologists. They brought me up to see both sides of the issue and to realize people weren’t black or white. We all have seas of emotions inside, and sometimes one becomes a tidal wave. When that happens, people say or do things they don’t mean.”

  “So what do you think of Robert and Harriett? You heard their story. Is that what makes them do what they’re doing?”

  Karen grunted. “Nah, the mother has rats in the attic, and she drove the son barmy. Wilkes is right. You see them, you take them down.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Make the dog go away, Robert. Please, make it go away.

  He kicked the mutt, and it yelped. Roberta laughed. Hit it again, Robert. Make it hurt, like they made me hurt.

  He threw rocks at it until it disappeared out of sight. It was the first time she’d laughed since Father brought her home from the hospital. He loved her laugh.

  Don’t worry, Roberta. I won’t ever let the dogs hurt you again.

  She bowed her head. You can’t call me Roberta anymore, Robert. My name is Sam now.

  Robert opened his eyes, the pain in his head a constant throb. Mother was sleeping peacefully in a flowered armchair. What he needed was a glass of water. The doctor’s probably thirsty too. Robert rose and opened the first door on the right. Her eyes grew wide, and she moved her body in front of her granddaughter. Something clicked inside him as he watched her offer her body to protect her grandchild. That was the way a mother should be. Loving and protective. His gaze turned to his own mother, snoring with the baseball bat clutched tightly in her hand. Somehow their roles had reversed. She was the child, and he was the protector. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “A glass of water for my granddaughter, please. Maybe some ice for her knee.”

  “Go get it.”

  She rose slowly, her granddaughter clinging to her hand. “I’ll be right back.” She brushed past him, her head held up, her back straight. A proud woman. My life could have been so much different if I’d had a mother like her.

  He watched her as she placed ice in a baggy and filled a glass with water. “She could use some aspirin, if you don’t mind.”

  “Where is it?”

  She nodded toward the cabinet. “Second shelf.”

  He opened the cabinet and pushed aside bottles until he found the aspirin. His head still throbbed, and he shook out two and handed the bottle to her. He popped the aspirin in his mouth and chewed, enjoying the bitter taste.

  She turned and stared into his eyes. “I’m an old woman, and you can kill me if you want, but you don’t have to kill her. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

  “I might let you live if you tell me about the Indian.”

  She frowned. “What Indian?”

  “The woman. You were at her house yesterday,” Robert sai
d.

  “Loki Redmond?”

  “If that’s her name.”

  “She’s a good person. A kindhearted person. I’ve been doctoring her family since before she was born.”

  “What’s her power?”

  She shrugged, her face a mass of wrinkles as she knitted her brows together. “She’s good with a bow, and a knife.”

  “I’ll slit your granddaughter’s throat right now if you don’t tell me what I want to know,” Robert growled as he took a step toward her.

  Her eyes widened, and the hand holding the glass trembled. “I don’t know what you want.”

  “She’s different. Tell me what makes her different.”

  Her lips trembled. “They say she can hear the spirits. That she talks to the spirits and sometimes sees things. That’s all I know.”

  “Go take care of your granddaughter.”

  He watched until she closed the door behind her, then turned and poured a glass of water. A quick glance in the living room had told him Mother was still sleeping. He drank the water slowly, the throbbing in his head almost a melody. Roberta, Roberta, Roberta. Now he wanted the Indian’s power more than ever. If he had her power, he could talk to Roberta. She could tell him how the dream ended.

  “Dinner is ready, Robert.”

  Robert flipped the channel to the local news. The hair along the back of his neck stood up, and he gripped the arms of the chair as the tall dark-haired man walked to the podium.

  “Did you hear me, Robert?”

  He turned the sound up.

  “My name is Special Agent Brian Wilkes. We have reason to believe two serial killers are in this area.”

  A picture of his mother flashed on the screen.

  “This is Harriett Tatum. Some of you older locals may know her or remember her. She and her husband, Joseph, lived here. Harriett is traveling with her son, Robert Tatum, also wanted for kidnapping, rape, and murder. If you see either of these individuals, call your local police department immediately. Don’t engage them. We believe both are armed and extremely dangerous.”