by Robin Mahle
“I’m punching out,” he said to the two co-workers stacking lumber. “I’ll see y’all in two days.”
A canopy of purple and orange draped over the skies as Arlen walked out of the building and into the parking lot. He shoved a hand into his pants’ pocket to retrieve the keys and noticed a squad car pulling up to the front. Careful not to appear alarmed, he continued to his truck, nodding to the officers who stepped out. In that moment, he was grateful to not be wearing his apron because he now looked like a customer and nothing more. The officers returned the gesture and walked inside the store.
Arlen picked up his pace, feeling his heart skip a beat. He made it to the truck and inserted the key into the lock. Jumping inside, he turned the ignition, all the while glancing at the store’s entrance. “Everything’s all right,” he told himself. “Everything’s all right.”
A final turn of his head; no uniformed men had yet to reemerge and Arlen pulled away. It wasn’t unusual for cops to come to the store anyway. Lots of people shoplifted, he thought. That could have just as easily been the situation. He needed to calm himself down. Regain control. Always stay in control. The deep, calming breath set him right again and Arlen continued home to finish taking care of business.
The skies turned to black by the time he reached the turnoff to his little slice of heaven. Thoughts of police officers were beginning to fade as he cut the truck’s engine and stepped out onto his driveway. First things first; the generator needed to be refilled. Arlen made his way around the side of the house to a shed and retrieved a couple of gas cans. He always kept five-gallon containers on hand. Once things started to cool down, he didn’t use as much. And it seemed with that storm, it might have finally brought the fall weather.
The generator sat beneath the covered patio off the back of the kitchen. It wasn’t too loud, at least, from inside the house. If anyone else were to cruise along his street, they’d probably hear it running. But why would anyone ever come down here? He poured the fuel into the generator’s engine.
Once inside, he washed his hands and changed his clothes. Now the fun could begin. And as luck would have it, Lizbeth was exactly where he left her. “Come on, sweetheart.” He tucked his arms beneath hers and hoisted her from the couch. “Damn, you are heavier than you look.”
He carried her into the kitchen where a sheet of plastic covered the floor. “You just lay down right here, okay?” He raised back up. “Now don’t you go nowhere.” A smile played on his lips—a wicked smile that looked like it came from the devil himself.
A toolbox he kept in a cabinet below the sink rattled as he placed it on the kitchen table. Upon opening it, its contents glimmered beneath the overhanging light. He was nothing if not meticulous about his implements. He bent over to see his reflection bouncing back at him. His face was pale and showed the sweat running down his temples. He reached for the blade that was sharpened with surgical precision and moved to Lizbeth. “I promise you, this won’t hurt a bit.”
TEN
Working on this investigation without Nick was a difficult adjustment for Kate. As they prepared to leave the Atlanta office and travel south to speak with the victims’ families, her comfort zone had dramatically decreased. Her reliance on Nick was too great. She hadn’t been able to get hold of him last night or this morning, only reaching his voicemail. He wasn’t answering any text messages either. This caused a deeper anxiety within her. The topic had been broached with Dwight, but he shrugged it off, a highly suspect reaction coming from him. Something was going on and they were both leaving her in the dark.
“You ready to go?” Dwight asked, peeking his head into Agent Lyons’ office.
She’d been waiting for his return as well as Lyons’ and had been sitting in his office for an uncomfortable length of time. Kate was more than ready to leave. “Yes.” She took to her feet and retrieved her laptop bag from the small conference table inside the office. Lyons’ seniority was evident from his plush surroundings and sheer square footage of office space.
“Where are we going first?” Kate followed Dwight into the expansive corridor lined with closed doors.
“We’ll head to Valdosta first and speak to Sydney Hawthorne’s mother. Her father is deceased.” Dwight stepped quickly through the hall toward the lobby. “Lyons is waiting for us out front.”
“Have you been able to get in touch with Nick today?” Kate struggled to keep up with his pace.
“No. We’ll touch base with him when we get back tonight. I see Lyons up ahead.” Dwight stopped and turned to Kate. “Remember that you and I are the lead investigators on this, okay? Not Lyons. He’s not running the show here. I am.”
“Understood.” Something was definitely going on. Dwight wasn’t a man to shy away from taking the lead on anything, but he seemed quite adamant about Lyons’ place in the pecking order.
“We’ve already spoken to the mother, and she’s identified her daughter,” Lyons began, pushing the door that lead to the parking garage. “She’s also already given a statement. So, let’s just remember to go a little easy on her. The woman just lost her daughter.”
Kate looked at Lyons as though he were some kind of alien. Did he really think they didn’t know how to question a victim’s family? From their first meeting, she disliked this man, and he wasn’t doing himself any favors right now to change that opinion.
“We’re well aware of the situation. This isn’t our first rodeo,” Dwight replied.
Kate sensed his irritation and unveiled a furtive grin.
The commuter plane landed with ease after the hour-long flight. Kate disliked flying as a rule of thumb anyway, but the fifty-seater, no matter how smooth a flight it offered, still raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
“How far is it from here?” Kate attempted to make conversation after what had been a quiet flight. Tensions were high and fueled further speculation that something had happened within the two federal teams and no one had bothered to fill her in on the details.
“Just a few minutes.” Lyons stepped into the aisle as the passengers began to deplane. “I’ve got a car waiting.”
It had been a very long time since Kate had spoken to a victim’s family. Not since Ashley Davies when she’d gone back to deliver the girl’s locket to her family—the same locket that saved Kate’s life. And, she’d been with Nick that day. He helped her through it. Now she was about to face a mother who’d lost her daughter to yet another monster. Only this one was still on the loose—and was likely still killing.
“This is the place.” Agent Lyons pulled alongside the curb and stopped the engine.
“Does she know there is another victim?” Kate asked.
“She knows,” Lyons replied.
“I can only imagine she’s not feeling too confident in the FBI’s abilities to catch the killer before he takes another life.” Dwight pushed open the passenger door and stepped out, peering into the bright noonday sky.
“We’re doing the best we can, Agent Jameson,” Lyons replied.
“I’m sure that will bring her great comfort.”
Kate approached Dwight and waited with him on the sidewalk. “You okay?” His irritation was palpable and she needed to reel him in.
“I’m fine.” He turned his shoulder on Lyons while he exited the car. “I just don’t think he needs to be here. This is our deal now.”
“It’s his town, though,” Kate replied.
“Maybe. I’d just think we’d be better off handling this on our own.”
“Shall we go inside?” Lyons asked, locking up the car. He took the lead to the front door of the home and rapped gently on the heavy screen door.
Dwight and Kate brought up the rear, standing behind Lyons when a woman answered.
“Mrs. Hawthorne? Nice to see you again. May we come inside?”
The woman opened the screen door and Kate was able to see her clearly now, beyond the shadowing effects of the darkened foyer. The woman was pale, dark circles under her eyes and th
in. Very thin. She couldn’t have been older than forty-five, which would have made her younger than Kate by a few years when she’d had her daughter.
“Please, come in.”
“Thank you.” Lyons turned around. “These are Special Agents Dwight Jameson and Kate Reid. They’re with the department that specializes in these types of investigations.”
She eyed them as they walked through the door into the quaint country home.
Kate could almost feel the mother’s skepticism and couldn’t fault her for it. “Thank you, ma’am, and I’m so sorry for your loss.” She extended her hand in hopes Mrs. Hawthorne would see that her words were sincere.
The woman looked at Kate’s hand for a moment. Her eyes appeared so tired and dry, likely unable to produce any more tears at all. Finally, she returned the handshake. “Thank you, Agent Reid, I appreciate that. Please, come and have a seat in here.” She led the way to the kitchen table.
Kate smiled at the décor. Clearly, the woman was fond of pigs and sheep. It was nice to see something so normal in this world of killers and their prey.
“Can I get any of you something to drink? Water, coffee, or iced tea?” Mrs. Hawthorne opened a cupboard and retrieved some glasses.
“Water for me, thank you,” Dwight replied.
Kate walked toward her. “Let me give you a hand.” Her smile was warm and it seemed the woman was grateful for the offer.
“You’re my guest. You just have a seat and I’ll get you something.”
“Water for me as well, then. Thank you, Mrs. Hawthorne.”
“Of course. Please, call me Janice.”
“Thank you, Janice.” Kate returned to the kitchen table where Dwight and Agent Lyons were already seated.
The tray of glasses trembled in the woman’s hands as she carried it to the table, setting it down slowly so as not to spill, given her nerves that were clearly shot. When she finally sat down, the hard part began.
“Mrs. Hawthorne—Janice, can you tell me when you last saw your daughter and when you realized she’d gone missing?” Dwight maintained a professional yet compassionate tone.
She looked at Lyons. “As I told Agent Lyons, Sydney lived on her own in the apartments on Milner Street.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Lyons interrupted. “We’ve already collected evidence from the building.” He directed his words to Dwight.
“Okay. But she usually contacted you on a daily basis, is that right?”
Janice nodded.
“And you hadn’t heard from her the morning of her disappearance, before her shift started.”
“No. I just figured she’d gotten busy, although it was certainly out of the ordinary.”
“Okay. Did Sydney have a boyfriend?”
“She’d recently broken up with a boy from her work at the coffee shop. But that was some time ago—maybe a month prior, at least.”
“We’ve spoken with the ex-boyfriend. He requested different shifts so as not to conflict with hers since their breakup, so he hadn’t spoken with her,” Lyons interrupted once again.
“Look,” Mrs. Hawthorne cast her gaze toward the window that fronted the kitchen and looked upon the quiet street, “I’ve already answered these questions. Agent Jameson, why are you here? Do you have any leads or any suspects regarding the murder of my daughter?”
Dwight inhaled deeply as he cast brief glances to both Kate and Lyons. “Mrs. Hawthorne, I can’t imagine what you are going through and I’m very sorry to call on you again to answer questions that you’d already been asked. However, if I am to be sure I have all of the information, it is essential that I understand the circumstances surrounding Sydney’s disappearance.” He paused again. “At the moment, no, I do not have any new leads.”
Kate wanted to say something about the junior high school shirt victim 2 wore, but that wouldn’t help his cause.
“What I’m trying to establish right now is a pattern of behavior. Not your daughter’s, but of the person who took her. That’s the best place to start. So what I’m looking for is whether or not Sydney’s murder was opportunistic or if it was planned. Did she know her killer? Who did she hang around with?”
Mrs. Hawthorne’s shoulders dropped and her face softened. Dwight’s message was getting through. His intention was not to have her repeat answers, but hopefully to find additional clues. “I understand, Agent Jameson. I apologize.”
“You don’t owe anyone an apology, Mrs. Hawthorne.” Dwight scanned through information on his iPad before continuing. “Where did your daughter attend junior high, or middle school?”
“Let me think. We moved here in ‘06, so she was ten. The following year, she would’ve been in middle school, and that would have been,” her eyes raised toward the ceiling. “She went to Madison Middle School.”
“What about her job? Did she ever mention anyone in particular at work? Maybe someone she didn’t feel comfortable around?”
“No, she never said anything to me if that was the case.”
“Do we have any video from the coffee shop?” Dwight asked Lyons.
“Yes.”
“I’d like to get a copy of the previous two weeks’ worth of surveillance. There may be something there that will help.” Dwight returned his attention to Mrs. Hawthorne. “If there’s anything you can think of, no matter how insignificant you believe it might be, please, don’t hesitate to contact me.” He retrieved one of his business cards and slid it across the table. “We’re going to visit the coffee shop now and we’ll be here all day if you think of anything.”
A deflated-looking Dwight closed the file on his iPad. “Thank you, Mrs. Hawthorne. You’ve been very helpful. I think that’s all I need today.” Dwight pushed back from his seat and stood up. Kate and Lyons followed.
Mrs. Hawthorne walked them to the front door. “Agent Jameson, you have no idea who killed my daughter, do you?”
“No, ma’am. I don’t. Not yet.” He extended his hand. “Thank you and either Agent Lyons or I will keep you updated on any development in the investigation. Again, I am so sorry for your loss.”
She returned the greeting.
The agents returned to Lyons’ rental car, stepping inside to leave.
“How old is our other victim?” Dwight asked.
Kate pulled up the information immediately on her own iPad. “Twenty-two.”
Lyons started up the car and pulled back out onto the road.
“So, both victims are roughly the same age. Dammit.” Dwight turned toward the passenger window.
“What is it?” Kate sensed his frustration, but he couldn’t have believed this meeting would have resolved much, if anything. He knew it was never that easy.
“I don’t know.” He turned toward the back seat where Kate sat. “There’s something about the whole middle-school, junior high school—whatever the hell you want to call it—connection. Why would the killer go through the trouble of redressing his victims after he’d carved them up?”
In her mind’s eye, Kate saw an image of Sydney Hawthorne—her entire groin area removed with surgical precision. A detail that was intentionally not brought up in front of the mother. She’d already seen the condition of her daughter’s body and certainly didn’t need to be reminded. “And in a tween’s clothing,” she added. Although Sydney Hawthorne hadn’t been wearing anything so obvious as a school t-shirt, she had been wearing too-small clothing that appeared to have come from the children’s section of a department store. That, along with the fact that the clothes were also outdated, brought even more confusion to the case.
“Maybe this asshole was teased in middle school?” Lyons said as he continued along the highway, heading to the coffee shop.
“By girls?” Kate asked. “Maybe. This is a highly charged sexual crime. He’s removing the groin to make a statement and it’s directed toward women.”
Dwight returned his gaze to the front as the car continued along a two-lane stretch of highway surrounded by walls of greenery on either sid
e. “He’s retaliating for something. We just need to figure out what it is.”
» » »
Nick had no solid evidence to suggest Georgia had betrayed him. And he was a man who based his decisions almost exclusively on evidence. This time, it was his gut telling him she was hiding something. Her omission of the fact that she knew Lyons was the first red flag. The fact that Lyons seemed to flaunt in his face that he knew Georgia and had worked with her in the past was the second, and that was what really set his mind to thoughts of infidelity. Thoughts that festered all day. With his team still in Atlanta, Nick had nothing to do but dwell upon the idea.
His only choice was to leave the office and go to her apartment. She was coming home tonight after consulting on an investigation in Philadelphia; at least, that was what she told him.
“Stop,” he demanded of himself, perched on the edge of her ridiculously long and uncomfortable sofa sectional. Condemning her without hearing her defense wasn’t the kind of man he wanted to be. Nick swallowed the last of his drink and waited for her arrival.
The luxurious apartment high above the city conveyed light from below and reflected it inside the windows. Nick sat in near-darkness, except for that light with his back to the front door, now rolling the empty highball glass between his palms. He knew he was drinking too much and had been since all of this started—maybe even before then. Was that the reason for her duplicity, or was it that he was no longer the golden boy in the WFO? That he’d broken protocol and gone over the head of his ASAC to get Kate assigned to his office. “Stop!” His raised tone did little to squelch the voices in his head.
Finally, the agonizing minutes of being alone with his thoughts ended. The sound of a key in the door had signaled her arrival. Nick debated on whether or not to stand and face her as she entered, or to remain seated, his back to her. Seemed absurd to consider something so minute. Of course, this whole situation felt absurd and so to understand how to handle it was beyond his grasp at the moment.
