by Kylie Brant
As Ethan supplied the call details, Alexa pulled the pins from her hair and speared her fingers through the strands to loosen them around her shoulders. His throat dried when he recalled taking the same action himself last night. Logically, he knew she was preparing to face the boy. With her hair loose, she’d look younger. More approachable.
But there was no denying the instant bolt of lust that twisted through him at the sight. It was a byproduct of last night. He knew that. The control he’d maintained since she’d walked into the airport wasn’t nearly as easy to regain after it’d been unchained.
He noted Nyle’s eyes on Alexa and his slack-jawed reaction. “Roll your tongue back into your mouth,” he muttered in an aside to the man. And he refused to label his irritation as possessiveness.
The officer shot him a look. Grinned. “I’m married, not dead.”
Ethan’s laptop rang. He crossed to where he’d left it on the table and waited for Alexa to join him. She sat down in front of it as he accepted the call. Bannon hadn’t returned from getting the warrant signed, but Nyle and McManus drew closer so they could hear the conversation while staying out of the picture.
The boy was older than he’d first appeared. Nine, maybe. And Ethan could see how pale and thin he was. Malnourished, likely. One fist clenched by his side. One more charge to bring against Tillman.
An RCMP officer in the background made the introductions. “Logan Sherwood and his parents, Marcia and Trey Sherwood.”
The boy was sitting in between his parents, who both had their arms around him as if they could shield him from future harm. His face was half turned into his dad’s shoulder. Ethan’s anticipation chilled a bit. The kid didn’t look any too cooperative.
“Hi, Logan.” Alexa’s voice was easy. “My name is Alexa. I’m so glad to be able to talk to you. I’ve never met a real-life hero before.”
The boy shifted his face so both eyes were visible, but made no response.
“You know what a hero is, Logan?” she continued, propping her chin on one fist. “It’s someone who’s really scared, but they’re still brave. I think you’ve been very brave for a long time, haven’t you?”
Logan’s expression was uncertain. “I was scared.”
Alexa’s eyes widened. “Of course you were. Any of us would have been. But you stayed strong and smart and waited for someone to come help. That’s what heroes do.”
He inched away from his father. “I had to learn things,” he said in a near whisper. “I had to learn what he wanted me to know or else he’d hurt me.”
Because he was watching so closely, Ethan caught the slight wince in Alexa’s eyes, but her voice was steady. “He’s a bad man, Logan. He’s never going to hurt you again.”
Sounding unconvinced, he asked, “Is he ever coming back here?”
She leaned toward the screen, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Can I tell you a secret?” She waited for his slow nod before continuing. “The RCMP team here is very close to catching him. He won’t be getting back there ever again.”
The boy said nothing but straightened in his chair. Ethan suppressed a surge of pride. Alexa could establish a rapport with anyone.
“Can you tell me about some of the things you had to learn?”
“Mostly stuff about the insects he kept. The dragonflies, especially. I had to know how to feed them and keep the right temperature during the winter.” His voice grew a bit more animated. “I had to learn the real name for them. Anisoptera.”
“That’s a big word, isn’t it? I’ll bet you took care of things when the man was gone. Did he ever call and check on you when he was away?”
Logan nodded, but the question drained the bit of animation from his face. “He’d call and see if everything was all right with the dragonflies.”
“I’ll bet you took good care of them. Did you ever have problems while he was away? Any reason to call him?”
“I never wanted to talk to him. But a few days ago, I ran out of food. I had to call and ask him what I could eat.”
Ethan clenched his jaw to keep from cursing. Logan’s mother looked like she was on the verge of tears as she tenderly pushed the hair back from the boy’s face.
“See,” Alexa said encouragingly. “That’s another way you were smart. You had to remember that telephone number, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “And he gave me the code to open the door into the garage so I could get food from the freezer. I remembered that, too.”
“Can you tell me what the phone number was?”
The boy rattled it off, and Ethan scribbled it in a notebook he’d taken from his suit jacket, a feeling of triumph filling him. The ERT team had reported an extensive computer layout in the man’s home. Hopefully, Tillman’s love of technology extended to cell phones. With the most recent ones, a cell phone ping resulted in an exact location.
“Thank you for talking with me, Logan.” Alexa smiled at the boy. “I’ll bet you can’t wait to get back to your house with your mom and dad.”
“And my dog, Dexter,” he added. “Mom and Dad say he’s really missed me.”
“He’s going to be pretty excited to see you.”
He was quiet for a moment, and his expression screwed up again, as if he were about to cry. “Alexa? Are you afraid of scary movies?”
Chapter Twenty
“Kevin Delacorte.” Ethan’s jaw was clenched. “The Tailor’s first victim.” He handed his cell to Ian. The man gave a slow nod of recognition. He’d been one of the original officers on the first task force formed to hunt for the UNSUB.
After Logan’s bombshell about the DVD he’d found, Ethan had contacted the forensic ident team he’d dispatched to Tillman’s and spoken to the lead investigator. She’d found the DVD exactly where the boy described, played it and took a few videos to send to Ethan.
After the first minute, Alexa turned away. “So much for his claim of a mission sanctioned by God,” she muttered. Not all serial killers took souvenirs, but that’s what the videos were. A way for Tillman to reenact the moments when he exercised the ultimate control over his victims.
“There’ll be a stash of these somewhere in the house.” Jonah crowded Ian’s shoulder as he strained to look at the video.
“The forensic ident unit will find them.” The lead on the team had been texting Ethan every few minutes to update him about what they were uncovering in Tillman’s house. “They’ve gone through the cabinets in the garage. Looks like a lot of the things he needed for his kill supplies. A pile of folded clear plastic bags. Several rolls of duct tape. Syringes. Needles. Thread. Handcuffs. Several small saps.” At Alexa’s frown, he explained, “Short clubs.” He used his hands to indicate the length. “Easy to conceal up a sleeve or in a deep pocket.”
“Likely his weapon of choice for incapacitating his victims when he came up behind them,” she said grimly.
“Is the Scopolamine supply in there?”
“Not there.” Ethan took a moment to watch the next video. “Investigators found several high dosage vials in the bathroom inside the house, though.”
Nyle came in, waving a sheet of paper. “Production order in hand, boys and girl. I faxed a copy to the provider as soon as I got this signed. They’ll call Ethan with a response.”
“Exigent circumstances should speed things up,” Jonah noted.
“That and the fact that Captain Campbell at federal RCMP headquarters called the provider as soon as I alerted him that we had the number.” Ethan’s cell rang, interrupting him.
Ian handed it to him, and he stepped away to answer it. A minute later, his gaze met Alexa’s. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to get back to you.”
The expression on his face had Alexa’s stomach plummeting. “What’s wrong?”
“That was the Truro RCMP detachment. Patrick Udall’s parents just reported him missing. Police want to know if we think it could have anything to do with the UNSUB.”
There was a twist of nausea in her stomach. “Did
anyone witness an abduction?” When Ethan shook his head, she said, “The boy seems to run the town pretty freely. It’s possible he’s off on some adventure. But…we know now that Tillman isn’t above using children for his own objectives, don’t we? I think we have to face the fact that the boy could be in real danger.”
“I think it’s too soon to make assumptions,” Ian said. Jonah nodded in agreement.
Nyle looked thoughtful. “Is there any way Tillman could have learned about the raid on his house?”
“The forensic ident unit hasn’t found any recording or security devices in his home that may have alerted him,” Ethan responded. But he seemed to give the suggestion consideration. “ERT described the property as secluded. Local police said Tillman was a loner, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility that someone saw the ERT command vehicle parked nearby and concluded it was there for Tillman’s property. Alexa?”
“That would mean Tillman trusted someone in Brandon with his phone number.” It just didn’t ring true for this offender. “I think we have to consider all feasibilities, but it’s doubtful.”
Nyle hitched a hip on the corner of a table and folded his arms across his chest. “Just mentioned it because it seems like if he knew we were closing in on him, he might snatch the kid to have some leverage.”
“If Tillman is behind Patrick’s disappearance,” Alexa said slowly, “Leverage would describe his motivation perfectly.” But she wasn’t so sure the man would be seeking a way out of the province. He’d spent a lot of energy researching her past and letting her know what he’d learned.
Alexa knew better than to mention it in front of Ethan. But she was unable to shake the certainty that Amos Tillman wasn’t done with her yet.
Forty minutes later Ethan lowered his phone and lurched from his chair. “We’ve got a cell phone location.”
His words immediately activated everyone in the room.
“Where?” Jonah grabbed the suit coat he’d abandoned and shrugged into as he moved toward the door.
“Between Bedford Street and Saxony Boulevard. Just outside the city limits of Dartmouth.” Ethan waited for Alexa to gather her things and join him before leaving the room. “I’ve been having the provider ping the offender’s phone every ten minutes. First three times there was no response, which means the phone was dead or turned off. But a few moments ago, we got a hit.” They walked down the hallway toward the entrance. “Probably using a fairly new phone because we’re able to zero in on his location.”
“Is this really it?” Alexa murmured at his side.
He looked down at her, a hard smile on his face. He knew what she was asking. After all this time of getting close, this time they had Tillman dead to rights. He tried to temper his optimism as he pushed out of the door of the building. Things had a way of going south just when he thought he had the UNSUB in his sights.
“Let’s hope so.”
“Well, this place has seen better days,” Alexa murmured.
Ethan had to agree. The motel’s vacancy sign was missing two of its neon letters, and one of the panes in the window of the door to the office was missing and patched with cardboard. The property had four sections. The front horizontal strip held the office, with three rooms on each side of it. Two vertical sections sat to the right and left behind this one, with another between them that ran parallel to the front.
From the image the phone company had sent, Ethan could tell exactly where the UNSUB’s room was located. There were parking places in front of it. None held a vehicle that matched the description of Tillman’s van or rental. He took a slow swing through the rest of the parking lot while Nyle parked near the room at the far edge of Tillman’s section. The three officers got out, walked around the back of the units and disappeared.
Scanning the rest of the lot, Alexa said disappointedly, “He’s not here.”
There wasn’t a van or Camry in sight. A ball of disappointment lodged in his chest, but Ethan said, “His phone was here a half hour ago. He might have hidden the vehicles somewhere and taken a cab. Or left the car in a lot nearby and walked.”
“There were no lots nearby,” she reminded him, frustration tinging her words.
True enough. The motel was at least a mile from the last establishment they’d passed, a tavern that hadn’t had more than three cars in the parking lot.
His cell signaled an incoming text. He swung the vehicle back toward the office and stopped to read the message from Nyle. Sent a response.
“The men will take up position near Tillman’s room, remaining out of sight,” he explained to Alexa. “We’ll see if we can get any details from the manager.”
They got out and walked up the two sagging steps toward the office.
Ethan pushed the weathered door open and walked inside. The floor sloped beneath his feet. He’d hate to see what lay beneath the ratty green carpet.
The man behind the desk looked as rundown at the structure. Deep grooves were etched into his face and the long hair clubbed back in a ponytail was white. He started to smile, showing yellowed teeth until he got a better look at Ethan. Made him as law enforcement. “Don’t want no trouble.”
“Not looking to give you any,” Ethan said evenly as he showed his credentials. “Just need to know if you’ve seen this man.” He showed him a copy of Tillman’s driver license photo. The clerk barely looked at it before shrugging.
“Don’t believe I have.”
“Look again.” A note of command entered his voice. “Because we just pinpointed the man’s phone to this motel. I have a pretty good idea where the room is situated.”
“You need a warrant to get a look at it,” the clerk said flatly. He picked up a pen and returned to the crossword puzzle he’d been working.
“And I can get one. But that’s not necessary. I already know he’s here.” At least he’d been when they’d left RCMP headquarters. The cell phone provider had pinged the phone twice more on the way over, to no avail. It was shut off again. “But if I wanted to save time, I could just get a couple of patrol cars over here. Have them start running the plates of the cars in the lot.”
The man’s expression flickered.
Ethan looked at Alexa. “If we start pounding on all the doors, we’re probably going to observe some illicit activity going on. I’d be obliged to act on that information.”
“Maybe you should get three or four patrol cars,” Alexa suggested. She smiled brightly at the clerk. “Although that could put a scare into your guests. They might not like the police presence. I suppose some of them might be anxious to leave and find a place with more privacy.”
“Why you have to be like that?” the older man complained. He snatched the photo from Ethan and brought it closer. Then set it on the counter. “Yeah, he was here. Checked out fifteen minutes ago. Room sixty-one. You just missed him.”
“There’s a drive out back,” Nyle said as the clerk opened the door to the room. The older man had decided that having Ethan and the officers camped out in the parking lot while waiting for a warrant to come through was a far bigger disadvantage than just letting them take a look at the now-vacant room. “In disrepair, but he could have parked there, keeping the vehicle out of sight.”
It was a moot point now. Ethan resisted the urge to send his fist into the crumbling plaster wall. They were destined to creep closer and closer to the man, while each time he wiggled out of reach at the last possible moment.
The five of them filled the small space. There was one sagging unmade double bed. A nightstand with a leg broken on it. An old TV bolted to the wall above a small scarred chest of drawers.
“How long was he here?” Jonah asked disgustedly.
“Told that one.” The clerk jerked a thumb at Ethan. “Records say he’s been here nine days.”
“You don’t watch TV? There were sketches of this guy on the news.”
“I like to watch sports.” The older man jutted out his chin mulishly.
“Ethan.”
&
nbsp; Alexa’s quiet voice had his attention jerking to her. She pointed. There, under the bed, was a bright blue object. He took a couple of steps closer and crouched down. Gingerly lifted the stained coverlet aside where it was dragging on the floor. Recognition punched into him. He reached out for the object. Held it up. It was a Toronto Blue Jays cap.
Just like the one Patrick Udall had worn when they’d spoken to him in Truro.
“The thinking now is that the kid might have been snatched early yesterday evening.” Nyle wiped a hand over his face as he walked through the door into the conference room. Jonah and Ian looked weary as they trailed behind him. “Hey, Steve. When did you get in?”
Steve Friedrich waved a hand in response. “About three. Could have walked faster. Nothing but holdups. You talking about the missing boy in Truro?”
Ian took up the thread. “Yeah. Just left there after interviewing the family. Patrick called home yesterday evening and talked to one of his brothers. Said he was spending the night with a friend and then hung up. That’s a violation of household rules, apparently. He didn’t speak to his parents. My guess is Tillman had him then and forced him to make the call. Slowed down the police response significantly.”
“He could have taken the kid out of the motel room in broad daylight today,” Nyle said, slumping into a chair. “It had a rear-facing window. If the car was back there, put the kid in the trunk, and no one sees a thing.”
Ethan speared a hand through his hair. “Why?” He directed the question to Alexa. “What does he gain with this? What’s he planning?”
“Without consulting my crystal ball, I’d guess we’re going to learn very soon. He needs the boy for whatever comes next.” And it was all too easy for her to imagine the terror Patrick was going through right now, especially after talking to Logan Sherwood earlier today.
“If it’s a trade he wants, there’s no way.”
Alexa met Ethan’s gaze, recognized the adamant look there. “He’s escalating,” she said quietly. She’d spent the hours while the officers were in Truro going through all the information she’d compiled about Tillman’s patterns. And this one was fairly clear. “Just like the trigger that provoked the four recent murders in a short period, he’s taking bigger risks. Re-exerting the control he lost when he was injured at Simard’s direction three years ago. He’s redoubling his efforts after being disappointed at the vigil.” His disappointment had stemmed from discovering she wasn’t there. There was no question that Alexa figured into Tillman’s plans, but she wasn’t going to voice that thought aloud.
