by C. M. Sutter
Chapter 11
It was nearly eight thirty when we physically ended our workday. Our minds would continue on for several more hours. J.T. sat behind the wheel of our cruiser, his left fist jammed into his left eye as he tried to stay awake. We headed south on I-65, knowing our hotel was somewhere around Merrillville. Neither of us had eaten since noon on our drive to Gary, and my rumbling stomach reminded me of that. That morning, when we’d left Wisconsin, seemed like days ago. We still hadn’t stopped to take a breath. Our packed bags remained in the trunk. I wasn’t sure whether I needed to freshen up first or eat, but since I was with a man, I knew food was likely more important.
“Does this hotel have a restaurant?” I asked.
“I don’t even remember the name of the place we’re staying at.”
We looked at each other and laughed.
“I’ll check my text from Val again,” I said. “It would help to know where we’re going. Okay, that’s right, it’s the Fairfield Inn and Suites just off the freeway and Main Street. It doesn’t look like they have a restaurant, but there’s plenty right in the area. Feel like Mexican food?”
“Sure, that sounds good.”
“Okay, because there’s a Mexican restaurant across the street from the hotel. Want to check in, or eat first?”
“If we check in now, I don’t know if I’ll have the energy to get back into the car.”
“Yeah, let’s eat.”
J.T. turned right into the restaurant’s parking lot instead of left at the hotel. We exited the car and entered the warm, cozy building. The tile floor and wall decor resembled an authentic Mexican restaurant, and the wait staff whispered in Spanish among themselves. We were seated near the fireplace.
I scanned the dining room as we got comfortable. “This place is really cute.” I opened the menu and took a look. “The dinner choices look good too.”
The waitress approached our table with two glasses of water. “May I get you something to drink while you browse the menu?”
“I’ll have a Negra Modelo.”
J.T. nodded. “Make that two.”
I felt J.T.’s eyes drilling a hole through me. “What?”
“Your wheels are turning.”
“Fine, they are, but I figured you’d want to eat in peace.”
“No time for peace. Go ahead.”
“Taylor’s folks didn’t tell us much more than Corrine’s. Of course there are a few things we need to check out for ourselves, but I’m wondering why there was no mention in the police reports or from the parents as to what happened to the girls’ cars.”
“There wasn’t anything in the folders about that?”
“Nope, not a word.”
J.T. scratched his chin. “They’ve been missing for months. Where the hell can their cars be?”
“Good question, and why didn’t anyone check into it?”
J.T. sighed. “And the parents didn’t get them back?”
I shook my head then put my index finger to my lips. The waitress was returning with our beers.
“Have you decided on dinner?”
I gave her a smile. “Yes, I’ll have the enchilada plate with black beans.”
“And I’ll have the tamales with refried beans and rice.” J.T. handed the menus to the waitress, and we continued our conversation after she walked away.
I leaned across the table and spoke in a quiet voice. “Should I call the families and double-check before they go to bed?”
“Yeah, it’s important to know.”
I made the quick call to Corrine and Taylor’s parents before our food came. Both families gave me the same answer. The cars were never mentioned as being located, and they were never returned.
“That’s another thing we need to check on. What the hell happened to the cars? The vehicle description, if there is one, normally goes out with the missing persons reports, right?”
“Absolutely, and that’s how the patrol cops usually locate vehicles in some random apartment or mall parking lot.” J.T. pulled his notepad out of his inner pocket and jotted that down. He chewed on the end of his pen. “We need to talk to Bobby Lang, find out about the cars, and what else?”
“Tomorrow morning we’ll regroup with the detectives and ask why locating the missing cars was overlooked. I want to read the original missing persons reports myself and see if the cars were listed by description and plate number. Then, we have to find out exactly who they spoke to in depth, if anyone. We need to know if they’ve checked out social media pages, looked into the cult culture idea, and even find out if that type of activity is prevalent around here. Shit, we haven’t even started with Heather Francis yet. We should also see if there’s any connection between her job in the lab and the fact that the killer was draining blood through the major arteries. I want to know if the detectives have interviewed all of Heather’s coworkers yet and if anyone seems suspicious.”
J.T. jotted that down too then closed his notepad. He tipped his head to the left. “Our food is coming.”
He spread the cloth napkin over his lap as the waitress set our steaming meals in front of us. I did the same and dug in.
Chapter 12
Sam stared at Molly, his face scrunched. He could feel the heat burning through his cheeks, and his heart was still racing. He couldn’t believe she’d tried to pull that trick. She was regaining consciousness, and she’d get what she deserved after trying to escape like that. Sam had no intentions of getting caught. That one mistake would be his last.
He strapped her head down with a short rubber cord that stretched over her forehead and hooked on either side of the gurney. Her chest, hands, and legs were already secure. She couldn’t thrash around, even if she tried.
Once again he considered the idea of selling blood, especially after that close call. Maybe he wouldn’t kill her just yet. She would be of more use to him as a living donor. The work area had enough room for two more tables if he moved equipment around. He couldn’t afford gurneys, but he’d rig up something else, maybe even chairs nailed to the floor, if he had to.
That new plan would give him plenty of blood for his mom and extra to sell. He could quit his menial hospital job, lie low, and draw blood every day from the women he had captured. Nobody would be the wiser, and the search for the killer would dwindle. Within a month, it would be considered a cold case. The news channels wouldn’t broadcast it anymore. The only time he’d go out would be to buy groceries and to sell the blood. As soon as the state-funded health care for his mom was approved, he’d stop killing, Adeline’s health would improve, and life would be good again. Sam was sure of it.
Molly squinted and saw him standing over her. She opened her mouth as if to scream. Sam balled up his fist and cocked his arm.
“Do you want me to hurt you?”
“No. Why are you doing this? Why am I here?” she sobbed. Tears rolled down the sides of her face, pooling in her ears.
“Not your concern.” Sam tossed a blanket over her body. “You’re going to be lying there for a while. You might get cold.”
He held her clothing and walked to the door. Her clothes would stay with him. He looked over his shoulder at her before leaving the room. The straps were as secure as possible without cutting into her skin. There would be no escaping a second time. Sam closed the door and locked it at his back before entering the house. He had more research to do. He had to know how much blood he could safely draw from any one body on a daily basis. He already knew the shelf life of blood when it was refrigerated and kept at a constant temperature. That part wouldn’t be a problem. His most important task was to find a reliable source to sell it to.
Sam entered his mother’s bedroom and unplugged the laptop on the side table. He carried it into the living room, where he noticed Adeline had fallen asleep on the couch. He carefully lifted the TV remote from her hand and turned the volume down, then he took a seat on the recliner. He watched as his mom slept peacefully.
Sam typed some key words into th
e search bar and began scrolling the page. He clicked on numerous websites and read for hours. He caught his head bobbing more than once as the night went on. He finally closed the laptop and set it on the coffee table next to his chair. He’d continue the research tomorrow and plan to find two more women. Sam checked the time. It was late, and Adeline still had to be helped to bed. He’d begin with Molly in the morning, then buy two used tables or chairs at a secondhand shop and figure out how to make them suit his needs.
Chapter 13
Our plan was to meet in the police department conference room with Detectives Andrews and Fitch at nine a.m. tomorrow. That would give us time to enjoy breakfast at a real restaurant as opposed to the inside of the cruiser with the console as our table. With the list J.T. had started over dinner tucked safely in my purse so it wouldn’t get misplaced, we said good night to each other at my hotel room. J.T.’s room was two doors down.
“What time do you want to head out in the morning?” he asked.
I calculated how long breakfast would take and the distance from the hotel to the police department. “How about seven thirty?”
“Sure thing. I’ll bang on your door then. Good night, Jade.”
“Good night.” I closed the door and looked through the peephole. Suddenly, a finger blocked the glass, and I heard a chuckle.
I called out from behind the closed door. “Go to your room, J.T., and you aren’t funny.”
“Yeah I am, and admit it, you think so too.”
I heard him laugh as he walked away. I ducked into the bathroom and turned on the shower faucet. I hoped the hot, relaxing water would send me off to dreamland quickly.
Out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later and propped up in bed with pillows behind my back, I checked my emails and sent a short text to Amber to see whether she was still awake. If she responded, I’d call her and chat for a bit. If not, I’d try her at some point tomorrow. I turned on the TV as I waited and caught the tail end of the news. After five minutes of useless commercials, the anchorman began the final segment with breaking news.
“Channel 4 at Night has received word that yet another local woman has gone missing. Twenty-three-year-old Molly Davis is still unaccounted for after being absent from a party that was given in her honor. Family members say numerous calls to her phone went unanswered. The young woman’s car was located several hours ago at the public trails along James Street, where she often ran. But after an extensive search of the area, Molly remains missing. At this point,” the newscaster said, “foul play is highly suspected.”
I sat up in bed and clicked the volume higher. Right then, I hoped Amber was asleep and wouldn’t return my text. I needed to hear more about this latest missing woman. A photograph of Molly Davis came across the screen with her height, weight, and hair and eye color listed next to it. I paused the TV, took a picture of the screen with my phone, and continued with the broadcast.
“If anyone has seen this young woman, you are asked to contact the downtown police headquarters immediately at the eight hundred number shown across the bottom of the screen.”
“What the hell?” I dialed J.T.’s phone, hoping he hadn’t fallen asleep yet.
He picked up on the third ring and groaned. “Miss me already? Don’t you ever sleep?”
“J.T., I just watched the news, and they said another woman went missing today.”
“No shit? Why didn’t anyone tell us?”
“I don’t know. It sounded like she was supposed to be somewhere tonight and didn’t show up. Maybe it was only called in a little while ago. The news broadcast said her car was located at some public running trail, but she wasn’t with it. Sounds like the family may have searched for her on their own without luck and finally called the cops. The police must have taken her absence seriously enough, given the circumstances, to allow the news to broadcast it already.”
“I’ll be right over.” J.T. abruptly clicked off.
“Damn it.” I dove out of bed and threw on my bathrobe. I didn’t need J.T. laughing at my sheep-patterned flannel pajamas.
Within five minutes a knock sounded on my door. I squinted through the peephole just in case. J.T. stood on the other side, wearing plaid flannel pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt. I opened the door, and he marched through. He stared at me with threatening eyes. “Don’t even.”
I grinned and felt relieved. We sat at the table together. “Here, take a look at this. I paused the TV and took this picture during the segment.” I handed him my phone.
“Smart thinking, Jade. Tell me word for word what the newscaster said.”
I went over everything I could remember with J.T.
“So, what do you want to do? Should we leave tonight’s legwork for the locals, then address this new situation and everything else on our list, in the morning?”
“Yeah, I suppose so. Other than interviewing the family, there probably isn’t much the cops are doing tonight, anyway. They may tow her car to the evidence garage, and that will give us a good opportunity to mention the other cars too.”
J.T. stood and filled a glass of water for each of us then took his seat again. He passed a glass across the table to me.
“Thanks. You know there’s a chance of finding this girl before he kills her, if she was actually abducted by the same guy who drains their blood. As of right now we don’t have evidence that he’s killed any of the women right away.”
“True. I think we need to dig into the cult world tomorrow. We have to find out who in the area has a fascination for human blood. The cops can handle everything else on our list.” J.T. guzzled the water. “Get some sleep, Jade. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a long day.” He pointed across the room. “Turn that boob tube off, or you’ll never go to sleep.”
I closed the door behind J.T. and climbed back into bed. I clicked off the television. With a quick glance at my phone, I checked to see whether there was a return text from Amber, but there wasn’t. I reached for the lamp, turned the switch, and hoped to power down the gerbil wheel for the night and get some sleep. I closed my eyes and felt myself drift off.
My phone alarm buzzed on the nightstand. Instinctively, I turned toward the window to see if it was really morning, but the blackout curtains made it impossible to know. I hoped my phone was playing tricks on me. I rolled to that side of the bed, climbed out, then remembered that at six thirty in the morning, it was dark, anyway. I found my reading glasses on the credenza, put them on, and crawled back into bed. Squinting, with my phone cupped in my hand, I read the time—6:30. “Damn mornings. Why can’t nights last a little longer?”
I scrolled through my emails, deleted the spam, and checked for texts. There wasn’t anything from Amber yet. She was probably just waking up too. With a deep sigh, I threw back the blankets, started the four-cup coffeemaker, and hit the shower.
My phone rang as I applied the light makeup I wore every day. J.T. was calling.
“Do you like pancake houses?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure, as long as they have bacon too.”
He chuckled. “I’m pretty confident most of them do. I’ll be banging on your door in about three seconds.” He clicked off and pounded on my door.
I peeked out, knowing I wouldn’t see anything but a fleshy-colored finger over the hole. I pulled the door open, anyway.
“That wasn’t very safe. I could have been a bad guy.”
I laughed. “Then I would have shot you, so quit putting your finger over the peephole. I swear, you’re just like a kid.”
“Are you ready?”
“Give me five minutes to brush my teeth.” I closed the bathroom door behind me and heard the television go on. I brushed, rinsed, applied lip balm, then dropped the tube into my front pants pocket and came out. The channel was turned to the morning news. “Anything on the girl?”
“Nah, but I’m sure we’ll find out something at the precinct. Let’s go eat.”
We didn’t linger too long at the pancake house. After two cups
of rich coffee, a four-pancake stack, and four strips of crisp bacon, I was ready to go. I was thankful the staff was quick and efficient and brought our check as soon as we finished our meal. We needed updates on this new case as well as more answers on the existing ones. We were in the cruiser and heading toward downtown Gary by eight fifteen.
J.T. had received a parking pass yesterday when we arrived. All he had to do was swipe the card and the gate would lift. We pulled into the parking garage. The guard recognized us and waved us through. Parked on the fourth level, we took the footbridge to the building and entered. We checked in at the counter, grabbed two coffees, and made our way down the hall. We were intercepted by Captain Sullivan, who had apparently arrived just ahead of us.
“Agents, got a minute?”
I nodded. “Sure thing.”
We were fifteen minutes early, so we joined him in his office. I took the inside guest chair, and J.T. took the one nearest the door.
“Have you been briefed on the latest abduction?”
“Not yet, sir. All we know is what I caught on the ten o’clock news last night. We haven’t seen Andrews and Fitch yet this morning.” I checked the time. “They’re meeting us in the conference room at nine o’clock.”
“I’ll be sitting in on that too. We had patrol officers searching along that stretch of trails last night and canvassing the area. Nobody had anything useful to tell them. Fitch and Andrews were out there for an hour or so. The patrol units briefed them on what they knew. That’s likely what we’ll hear this morning. Go ahead”—he jerked his chin toward the door—“I’ll grab some coffee and meet you in there.”
“Yes, sir.” J.T. and I left his office then reconvened with our coffees in the conference room down the hall. We took the same seats we’d had yesterday and waited for the others to arrive.
“Got the notes?” J.T. asked.
“Sure do.” I opened my purse and removed the folded slip of paper along with my notepad. J.T. placed his notepad and pen on the table.
