Donors

by C. M. Sutter

  “Yeah, slightly, but he was fired the other day for missing too much work.”

  I nodded. Now it made sense that personnel wouldn’t have his file anymore. It had been expunged from their database. “What did you know about Sam?”

  “Not much since his position kept him pretty isolated, but he was a cute guy. Somewhat quiet but nice enough.”

  “Sam Reed, right? I’m sure that’s what he said his name was.”

  “Sam Reed? No, you must have misunderstood him. His name is Sam Ryan.”

  I scribbled that down on my notepad. “You’re positive?”

  “I mean, as positive as I can be since that’s what he told me. I can only go by his word.”

  “Do you know if Sam drives a charcoal-gray van?”

  She looked surprised. “Yeah, he does.”

  “Good, that’s really good. Do you know what the plate number is, or even a partial number? I need to locate him. It’s urgent. Do you know where he lives?”

  “No, he never mentioned it. But I do know the plate number. It was easy to remember, and I asked him about it once. We arrived to work at the same time and parked nose to nose. That’s when I saw it. I asked Sam what it meant as we walked in together.”

  “Yeah, what was it?” I was getting anxious. “Hurry, just tell me.”

  “Addie was written across the plates. That’s it, just the name. He said the van belonged to his mom.”

  “Spell it.” Joan did, and I wrote it down. I squeezed her shoulders and took off toward the elevators as I pulled my phone out of my pocket. I yelled back before Joan crossed through the lab doors. “Tell Sylvia I showed myself out.”

  I dialed as I waited for the down elevator. Sullivan answered immediately. “Captain, I have the plate info. Have the tech department pull it up right away.”

  “Go ahead, Jade.”

  I rattled off the name and made sure he had it spelled correctly.

  “Good work, agent. Just so you know, the seller is a no-show. We’re going to give him fifteen more minutes then call it off.”

  I climbed into the elevator and hit the button for the first floor. “I’ll come and meet you guys. What street are you sitting on?”

  “We’re two blocks away from Franklin Park. J.T. and I are sitting on East Seventeenth and Cumberland.”

  “I’ll find it.” I wrote down their location as I wedged the phone between my cheek and shoulder. “I’ll program it into my GPS as soon as I hang up. I should be there before our seller’s fifteen-minute deadline.”

  I raced out of the hospital and jumped into the cruiser. With government plates on the car and nobody to question me, I hit the lights and sirens and headed to Franklin County Park. Two miles out, I silenced the sound and turned off the light bar. I didn’t want to spook our killer, if indeed he actually showed up. I called J.T. as I got closer.

  “What’s the word, partner?”

  “Andrews and Fitch are a half block from the meet-up point. They said nobody has arrived. Alex is hanging out in the parking lot and waiting in the car we borrowed from impound. We’re about to call it quits. Our guy either chickened out or smelled a trap.”

  “Maybe, but I’m calling Charlie to see if they’ve pulled an address on the van yet. If Sam—as in Sam Ryan, not Sam Reed—isn’t coming to meet Alex, he may be at home. Don’t forget, if he’s our guy, he’s still holding Bethany and Kristen prisoner. Apparently, he was fired from the hospital for not showing up at work when scheduled. There has to be a reason for that.”

  I clicked off the call and arrived a few minutes later behind the cruiser J.T. and Sullivan sat in. I killed the engine and tucked the car keys in my pocket. I quickly walked over and climbed into the backseat of their vehicle.

  “Nothing yet?” I asked. I had positioned myself between their seats, dead center behind the console.

  J.T. spoke up. “Alex is wired and ready to go, but according to him, no calls have come in, and he hasn’t seen any movement nearby. The buyer, known only by his log-in name, Seller4567, is in the wind. He’s twenty minutes late, and Alex had no way to contact him other than through the website.”

  The radio squawked in Sullivan’s cruiser. “Sullivan here. What’s up?”

  Andrews spoke from his location near the park. “Alex called me. He wants to know what he should do.”

  Sullivan groaned into the phone and turned to J.T. then back to me.

  J.T. checked the time. “Give him five more minutes, then tell Alex to leave and drive four blocks south to Hickory. Stone and Mills can escort him to the station. Let’s head back and reconvene in the conference room. Once we have Sam’s address, we’ll make our move.”

  Chapter 57

  Sullivan reached up and pulled the finger loop on the roller map of the city. He lowered the map and secured the loop to the hook on the wall. He turned and tipped his head at me. “The floor is yours, Jade. What did you find out from Charlie?”

  I stood and approached the map. “Sam lied about where he lived. His actual home is only ten minutes from the park.” I pointed at the street where the house was in relationship to Franklin County Park. “According to the personalized plates on the van, the address on record for Adeline Ryan is 4062 Montgomery Street. I checked the satellite imagery, and it isn’t going to be easy to sneak up on the house. The residence is at the end of a secluded cul-de-sac and on a large parcel of land surrounded by woods. If he’s hunkered down with a good visual of the street, he’ll see us coming. We won’t have the surprise factor on our side.”

  “Could you tell how many doors lead into the house?” Sullivan asked.

  J.T. responded. “I looked at the satellite image with Jade. We’re pretty confident in saying there’s three points of entry. There’s the front door to the right of the driveway, the overhead garage door, and a side yard door on the left leading into the garage.”

  Andrews cleared his throat then spoke up. “What about neighbors?”

  “None close by.” J.T. jerked his chin at Fitch. “Pull up the address on your laptop so you guys can take a look.”

  Mel opened her laptop and powered it up. “Okay, the address again.”

  I rattled it off. She clicked on the bird’s-eye view tab. An aerial view of the property came up. J.T. leaned in and explained to the group what they were looking at.

  “The neighborhood is thick with woods, although this time of year, we don’t have cover from foliage. Still, we can access the property through the woods and make entry at the side door that leads into the garage. The noise buffer from that side of the house should help. We can station officers at the overhead garage and front doors.”

  “Do we have enough probable cause to break in?” Stone asked.

  I nodded. “You bet we do. There was no reason on earth for a receipt for the purchase of two armchairs to be at Dasher Point. The receipt was from Tuesday. According to everyone we spoke to, Alex has had his two chairs forever, plus they aren’t upholstered armchairs. I’m sure it wasn’t a coincidence that Sam bought two chairs just before Kristen and Bethany went missing. Also, he lied about his last name and where he lives, and his description matches the account from the bartender at Paul’s Tap, Jeff Simmons, and the employee at Insomnia. We have enough circumstantial evidence and two missing women to find. There’s the mother to take into consideration too. We have no idea if she’s part of his diabolical actions or if she’s a prisoner like the others. What I do know is, it’s time to go.” I turned to Sullivan. “Captain, do you want to join in on this? Otherwise, the six of us can handle it.” I glanced around the table. “Are we all in?”

  Sullivan stood. “We’re all in, but that makes seven of us.”

  “Good to hear. That means we need to plan our approach right now.”

  Thirty minutes later and with everyone assigned an area to cover, we headed out. Our approach would be from the nearest parallel street behind the house and through the woods. Everyone gathered radios, earpieces, and vests and put them on. Our servic
e weapons were ready, and each of us had extra ammo. Well-armed and ready to go, we filed out of the parking garage with sirens squealing and lights flashing.

  “Thank God we both brought our boots along,” I said to J.T. as he drove. “According to the GPS coordinates, driving in a southeast direction, we should arrive at that side street in twenty minutes.”

  “Got it. Just guide me in.”

  I took off my street shoes and reached to the backseat floor and grabbed my Merrell boots.

  Adams Street was the road that ran parallel to Montgomery. The roads were a half mile apart, meaning we’d be trudging through a half mile of woods. I was thankful only a few inches of snow covered the ground. Adams Street was rural too, which helped keep curiosity seekers away. The only house on that road was a good three hundred yards back in the direction we came from. We drove in on Adams about the same distance as the Ryan house was on Montgomery, then we parked our cruisers ten feet apart in case we had to make a quick exit in the cars. The ditch to our right separated the road from the woods.

  The lights and sirens had been disengaged three miles back as a precaution. We exited our cars, each of us with a set of binoculars hanging from our necks. In a wide stance to steady ourselves, we leaned against the cars and peered in the direction of the Ryan home. We saw the roofline from where we stood but nothing more.

  J.T. gathered the group one last time before we moved out. “Okay, people, let’s go. Everyone has their area to cover. Any questions?”

  We kept silent.

  “Then let’s do this. Remember, we take him alive unless we have no other choice. There are likely hostages in there. Once we breach the house, we have to act swiftly, find the women, and apprehend him. Everyone, watch your partner’s back and be careful. We don’t know with one hundred percent certainty that Sam is our guy, but we’re going in as if he were. If he’s the killer, we know what he’s capable of.”

  We moved in quickly until we reached the ridge behind the home. Once we cleared that ridge, our only cover would be trees. We’d do our best to stay out of view of any windows and reach the doors unseen.

  I pressed the button on my earpiece and spoke through my radio. “Everyone give me a hand signal if you can hear me.” I looked around and counted six thumbs-up. “Good enough. Once we clear this ridge, stay low and hightail it for the side of the house. Get to your locations, take cover, and wait. On our go, you’ll breach the house. Okay, move in.”

  Seven of us ran through the woods toward the house with two football-field lengths to go. We crouched behind trees, checked for movement, then continued on. With a final hundred feet to go and a burst of adrenaline, we reached the house and gathered at the side garage door. All was quiet. As far as we could tell, that meant we had gone unseen. With hand signals, I motioned for everyone to take their positions. Fitch and Andrews headed for the front door. Stone and Mills were positioned at the overhead, and Sullivan, J.T., and I stayed at the side door.

  With my hand on the doorknob, I was ready to give it a turn when a voice came over Sullivan’s radio. He held up his hand for me to wait while he listened to the message from Andrews. Sullivan responded then pressed the button on his earpiece.

  “The van is in the driveway, and there are several lights on at the back of the house. Andrews thinks it’s the kitchen and hallway light, but he hasn’t seen any movement.”

  J.T. whispered, “Tell him to stay out of sight until we clear the garage.”

  We waited as Sullivan gave the order. I continued at the door and turned the knob. Surprisingly, the door opened until the chain lock caught. I gave J.T. a questioning frown and stood to the side. He shouldered the door with a quick thrust and snapped the chain. We pulled our weapons and entered the darkened room. The garage was the typical older, unkempt room with one bay for a vehicle. Dark wooden walls held multiple shelves, mostly bare. Several buckets, mops, and brooms lined a far back wall. I tapped J.T.’s shoulder and pointed at them. A few miscellaneous tools lay scattered about. The cracked cement floor wore years of oil stains and caked dirt.

  With the outer door open, we had just enough daylight streaming in to help us find the wall switch. Sullivan gave me a nod, and I flipped it. The garage lit up. I turned slowly and looked around. A closed door at the back of the garage stood next to the mops and buckets.

  “Over here,” I whispered as I jerked my head toward the door. From our perspective, we could see that the room had been added to the garage and altered to be a separate, private space. I turned the knob—it was locked. Since it was a hollow core door, I knew it couldn’t withstand much force. “You guys ready?”

  J.T. nodded. “Go for it.”

  He stood next to Sullivan, both with their guns drawn, as I gave the door one of the best Taekwondo kicks I could deliver. The doorframe splintered and broke free from the wall. J.T. pushed the door in. We rushed the room. Sullivan hit the wall switch and yelled through his radio to breach the house. The dead young woman lying on a gurney in front of us needed no explanation. Sam was the killer.

  I punched the wall. “That son of a bitch.”

  J.T. grabbed the sheets dividing the room and ripped them down. “We have another girl over here. They have to be Kristen and Bethany. He ran to her side and felt for a pulse. He turned to me and shook his head. “She’s cold.”

  “Where the hell is that bastard?” I turned back to the garage and took the two steps that led to the house. I pulled the door toward me right as Andrews reached us.

  “Holy shit, you guys have to see this.”

  Chapter 58

  The sight in front of us was beyond comprehension. We stood at the doorway and stared. I shook my head, stepped back, and left the room. I needed a minute to process what I had just seen. No matter how horrible and inexcusable Sam’s crimes were, what we had all just witnessed gave me a split second of understanding. Everything came into focus.

  Sullivan pulled Andrews to the side. “Call the ME and forensics and get them out here right away. Now we know why he didn’t show up to make the sale.”

  J.T. found me sitting on the couch. He unzipped his jacket pocket and pulled out several pair of latex gloves. He handed a set to me. “We better put these on if we’re going to spend any time here.” He took a seat at my side. “You okay, partner?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. Just stunned, that’s all.” I slipped the gloves over my hands. “How can I feel sad for someone who committed such horrible acts against at least six young ladies? I’ll never understand people.” I shook my head again. “I just never will.”

  Sullivan asked Andrews, Mills, and Stone to bring the cruisers around to Montgomery Street. “Park down the road a bit so you don’t block the ME and forensics vans.”

  Andrews nodded and collected the keys. “Will do.”

  A half hour later, Fitch pulled the curtain aside and looked out to the driveway. “The ME is here.” When the chime rang out on the mantel clock, I checked the time—two o’clock.

  Jane Felder entered through the front door, her equipment in hand. Tom Knight followed. They both nodded when they saw us waiting in the living room.

  “What have we got?” Jane asked.

  “Plenty.” I stood. “Follow me. I’ll show you.”

  “You sure, Jade?” J.T. asked.

  I waved his comment away. “Yeah, I got this.” I led the way down the hall to the mother’s bedroom. Inside, one dim lamp lit the room, casting shadows on the walls. I opened the curtains to bring in more light.

  Jane rubbed her forehead. “Wow, I’ve never—”

  “Me, either.”

  She walked around to the far side of the bed and assessed the scene. “I don’t want to disturb anything before forensics takes their photos.”

  “So this is why all of the young ladies were drained of their blood. He was transfusing it into…?” Jane stared at the dead woman lying in bed.

  “I assume she’s Adeline Ryan, Sam’s mom.”

  “And I take it Sam is the
dead man with the needle in his arm and the tube direct-lined to the IV port in the mother’s hand?” Tom asked.

  “That would be correct.”

  Tom scratched his head. “He transfused all of his own blood into his mom until his heart stopped pumping?”

  I grimaced and sucked in a deep breath. “It appears so, but apparently she was too far gone for it to help.”

  “You know transferring whole blood into another person is very dangerous, right, Agent Monroe?” Jane said.

  “Of course I know that, but this scene tells me a couple of things. One, that Sam completely went off the deep end out of pure desperation. And two, that he loved his mom so much that he sacrificed his life in hopes of saving hers. This is one of the saddest crime scenes I’ve ever witnessed.”

  I turned and saw the forensics team coming down the hall. I stepped aside to give them room and motioned for Jane to follow me.

  “There are two dead girls in a room off the garage. I’ll show you where they are.” I led them to Kristen and Bethany. Then I went to the living room, where I found J.T. and Sullivan sifting through stacks of mail they had dumped out of the garbage can.

  “Everything is starting to make sense,” J.T. said.

  “Yeah? Enlighten me.”

  “It looks like Sam was trying to get medical help for his mom through the state, but you know how slow government bureaucracy can be. Apparently, she didn’t get the help she needed in time. It looks like the bills were all past due, and the house was going into foreclosure.”

  “Maybe with all the problems facing him, he wanted to die with her.”

  Sullivan nodded as he dragged his fingertips through his hair. “Maybe so, but I know one thing for sure.”

  Fitch tipped her head. “What’s that, sir?”

  “Nobody came out a winner in this case. I guess I’ll call the station and tell Reynolds to cut Alex loose. He may be a weird one, but he didn’t commit any serious crimes.”

  Andrews, Mills, and Stone were back. They walked in through the living room door. “The cars are out front, Captain.”