The Sins of the Mother (Miller & Stevens Book 1)

by Scott Pratt

  Noises were now coming from other parts of the house as officers made entry.

  “In here! It’s all clear!” Lukas yelled at the approaching officers. “Lock it down and call CID and CSU. He’s killed another one.” Lukas walked out of the room and outside.

  The cool air helped, but he felt a tightening in his chest. Another dead woman had been added to the ledger. Brooke was just a step behind. He looked up at the gray, overcast sky. There was more snow in the forecast, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it started any time.

  At that moment, a car pulled up, and Captain Hunter got out and walked straight toward Brooke and Lukas.

  Lukas looked at Brooke and shrugged. “This should be interesting.”

  Lukas told the captain what had happened and was surprised when he didn’t get a lecture. Hunter said he would assign the scene to someone else and insisted they continue to chase Dolan. “I want you to stay on top of him, keep pressure on him. Go get this murdering bastard.”

  Lukas and Brooke drove over to the complex where Dolan lived, arriving just as the teams were staging to execute the search warrant. They walked to the temporary command post, which amounted to the tactical team’s striker van, three unmarked cruisers, and an ambulance.

  A plain clothes detail had been watching the apartment since Dolan came onto their radar. There hadn’t been any sign of him. At the staging area, the respective teams were briefed while Brooke and Lukas waited for the green light. The wait was excruciating for Lukas. Brooke seemed to sense his mood.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “I’m anxious. You?”

  “Same. I can’t wait to get in there. I know there’s going to be something that will give us a clearer picture of where he’d go or what his plans are.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Finally, the tactical team entered the apartment and the clear sign was given. Lukas walked into the apartment and immediately noticed the police scanner sitting next to a recliner. He stopped to look at it while Brooke checked an adjoining room. Lukas had no doubt that Dolan had been using the scanner to try to stay on top of the investigation. Along with the information he likely picked up from Gabriele and the police academy, Dolan had a pretty deep pool of resources.

  Lukas looked around the living room. There was nothing of interest besides the scanner.

  “Lukas, in here.”

  Lukas made the short trek down the hall and joined Brooke. He walked into a bedroom. There was a twin bed in the corner. The room was small and sparsely furnished, probably intended as a spare bedroom before the occupant’s psyche took a nosedive into hell. On the wall over the bed were newspaper clippings about the murders that told the whole morbid story. Going from left to right, the order matched the killings. Mingled in among the clippings were photographs of Lukas and Brooke, some of which were taken while they were at the various crime scenes.

  A curio table was near the bed. Lukas pulled open a drawer. Inside was a single scrapbook. It contained the arrest records from the county lockup of all the girls who had been killed and a few that hadn’t. Attached to each of the records were photographs of the women that appeared to have been taken on the street while the girls were working.

  “He stalked them,” Lukas said to Brooke. “Watched them while they were working so he’d know best how and when to go after them.”

  Lukas continued to flip through the book. It contained more articles about the killings. The last article in the book seemed out of place, though. It was dated July 15, 1995, and was a story about the death of a local prostitute named Marjorie Atkins. The death was ruled a suicide, the story said. He held the book out to Brooke. “Hey, look at this.”

  “That’s old. Who is Marjorie Atkins?”

  “No clue. It was before my time. But the article says she was a prostitute. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “I have no idea what you’re thinking.”

  “Dolan’s killing prostitutes, and here’s an article about the suicide of a prostitute from 1995,” Lukas said. “How old was he? Twelve, thirteen? This can’t be a coincidence. When we’re done here we’ll have to see what connection there is between him and this Marjorie Atkins.”

  “We’ll tag this for CSU.”

  “In here, you guys need to see this.” An unfamiliar voice came from an adjacent room.

  Lukas and Brooke walked down the hall and into the room where the voice came from. There was a cot in the corner with a small refrigerator beside it. A large wooden desk sat against the far wall and held a computer and monitor. The desk was tidy, with only a clean ashtray, a keyboard, a mouse, and a coaster.

  On the monitor were three images of a house.

  “These are live feeds,” the officer who had called Lukas and Brooke said. “Look at the time stamps in the corners.”

  All three cameras were pointed at the same house from different angles. The house looked familiar to Lukas, but he couldn’t quite place it.

  Brooke stepped up beside Lukas. “Oh my God, that’s my house! He’s been watching me!”

  Lukas could see terror in Brooke’s face as the realization set in. She glanced back and forth from image to image as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Lukas didn’t know what to say. He glanced around at the others in the room. They all looked stunned.

  Lukas reached for Brooke’s arm.

  “It’s okay. We’ll have him in a jail cell soon. Or on a slab at the morgue.”

  They stood there watching the computer screen. Suddenly, the images changed. A man walked out of the French doors and onto the deck. It was Paul Dolan. He was just finishing a cigarette. He reached down and put the butt out in what appeared to be a flower pot. He walked back into the house and emerged seconds later carrying a little girl.

  Sierra appeared to be sleeping.

  Dolan smiled and waved at the cameras while Lukas felt Brooke’s knees buckle.

  PART III

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Lukas started to bend over to offer a word of comfort, but Brooke recovered quickly, stood, and made a dash for the door. Lukas was right behind her. It was obvious she wasn’t thinking clearly. She still didn’t have a vehicle.

  They made it to Lukas’s car at the same time. Lukas jumped into the driver’s seat, and seconds later they were on their way to Brooke’s house. Lukas called Captain Hunter and told him what had happened.

  “I’ll call Chief McConnell in Kingsport and the sheriff. I’m sure they’ll get there in a hurry. A BOLO has already been issued for a green Ford truck, but we’ll also get an Amber Alert out as soon as we can.”

  “Thanks, Captain.”

  “Watch her closely, Lukas. She needs a compass right now. And get that little girl back.”

  “I will. Listen, could you do me one more favor? Could you call Special Agent Daniel Smart at the FBI and let him know what’s going on?”

  “I know Smart,” the captain said. “Will do. Stay in touch.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Lukas disconnected the call and glanced at Brooke. She had to be in shock. Her face was pale, but there were no tears. She looked like she was trying to process what was happening, but things were coming at her too fast. Lukas wished there was something he could say to offer some comfort or hope, but he knew there was nothing. There would be no comfort until Sierra was safely recovered.

  They pulled up to Brooke’s house among a large group of marked and unmarked police cars. An ambulance was pulling out of the driveway, siren blasting. Another ambulance sat in the yard. Brooke bolted from the car as though there was still time to keep Dolan from taking Sierra. She ran through the front door with Lukas on her heels and was met by a slightly overweight officer who was wearing captain’s bars.

  “Any news on my daughter?” Brooke said.

  “Nothing yet. I’m sorry.”

&
nbsp; “My mother?”

  “We found her in one of the bedrooms.”

  “Oh, please God, no,” Brooke said. “Is she dead?”

  “She’d been strangled, but she’s alive. She’s already on her way to the hospital.”

  “Is she going to stay alive?”

  The captain put his hand on her right shoulder.

  “The paramedics didn’t say. They intubated her and got her into the ambulance. We’ve notified your father. He’s going to meet them at the hospital.”

  Lukas’s phone rang. He looked at it. Danny Smart.

  “Danny, thank God. How far out are you?”

  “We have a full team headed to Detective Stevens’s house. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I just got off the phone with your captain. Has anything changed?”

  Lukas stepped outside. “I’m at her place right now, and it’s not good. Dolan didn’t just kidnap Brooke’s daughter. He also strangled her mother. Whether she lives is hit or miss. Dolan left in a green Ford pickup, but we don’t know where he is. Did the captain tell you about yesterday? About Gabriele?

  “He did, and I’m sorry.”

  “Did he tell you he killed another woman earlier today?”

  “Yes. You guys have busted a hornet’s nest wide open.”

  “You guys are the kidnapping experts. What can we do to get her daughter back? What should I be doing?”

  “Not much you can do other than try to stay calm until we find him. The alerts have already gone out. We’ll help you all we can. Be there soon.”

  Lukas went back inside. He saw Brooke talking to the Kingsport police chief, David McConnell. Lukas wanted to find out what else, if anything, the folks in his department had found in Dolan’s apartment, so he walked through the house and onto the back deck for some privacy. He called Rafe Carrizales, who had just arrived at Dolan’s when Lukas and Brooke left earlier.

  “Hey, Lukas,” Rafe said. “How’s she holding up?”

  “Not good. Are you still at Dolan’s?”

  “Yeah, along with the majority of CSU. We’re going over the whole place.”

  “Have you found anything yet?”

  “We’re still working. I’m not sure what all we have.”

  “What about the computer?”

  “We shut it down right after he took the girl. Forensics will analyze it, but that will take a while.”

  “Come up with something we can use to find the guy, Rafe.”

  “We’re trying.”

  Lukas turned around to walk back into the house and nearly ran over Brooke, who was coming out the door.

  “Sorry, Brooke. I was just seeing if anything had turned up at Dolan’s.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing yet, but they’re still in the early stages.”

  “Lukas, we have to get her back.” Her eyes filled with tears and Lukas reached out for her. She fell into his arms, and he gave her a gentle hug.

  “We will. I’ll do whatever it takes. What’s the plan with your department and the FBI?”

  Brooke took a step back and composed herself.

  “The chief said they’re setting up a small detail here at the house until we find her. The FBI is on the way with a team who’ll set up a command post here.”

  “Yeah, I talked to Danny Smart. He’s coming with them.”

  “What could this possibly be about? First, he takes Gabriele, and now Sierra. Why would he take my child?”

  “He’s deranged, Brooke. A psychopath. Who knows what’s motivating him? At this point, though, I don’t really care about his motivations. I just want to get Sierra back and remove him from the gene pool in the process. Listen, I’m not doing anyone any good here, so I’m going back to Johnson City in case they find something at Dolan’s. I’ll check back in with you later.”

  “I can’t just sit here. I need to be out there looking for her. I need to do something.” She wrung her hands. “Anything. I can’t let my baby down.”

  “You won’t. We won’t. But we need some kind of lead first. Once we get it, we’ll go find her. I promise.”

  Thirty minutes later, Lukas walked into his squad room and was immediately reminded of an assembly line at an automobile factory. The room was full of people, and each one was busy. The mood was serious, almost ominous.

  Lukas was angry. They’d seized the momentum from Dolan, only to let him get it back. It was frustrating to be waiting again. Lukas made his way through the crowd to his desk and sat down. The murder files were still there. A familiar voice came from behind.

  “Has anything turned up?” It was Rafe. He looked worried. Everyone looked worried. A cop’s child had been taken by a serial killer.

  Lukas shook his head slowly. “Nothing new. What about at Dolan’s?”

  The detective hung his head. “I’m sorry, man. I just left there. Our people are still going through everything, but it doesn’t look promising. I brought that scrapbook you found with me. You want to look through it again?”

  Lukas went to Rafe’s desk and picked up the book. He took it to a conference room, sat down, and fished out the article about the Atkins woman. Who was this woman, and what did she mean to Dolan? He turned on a computer and entered his password. Once he was into the system, he completed a search for the name Marjorie Atkins. He found the case involving the suicide from 1995 and wrote the case number down on a legal pad.

  Lukas walked up the hall to the evidence custodian, signed out the key to the case file archive room, then took the elevator downstairs. He unlocked the door and walked into the climate-controlled room. He located the 1995 section and started the painstaking task of locating the file.

  Twenty minutes later, he found the case file on the suicide of Marjorie Atkins. He flipped through the crime scene photos. It appeared she died from a self-inflicted gunshot to the head. The news article had mentioned that it was a suspicious death that was ultimately ruled a suicide. He came to the report that was written by the initial responding officer, a patrolman named Lockner.

  Lockner wrote that he was able to determine from the victim’s son, Paul Dolan, that the victim was right handed. The gunshot wound was on the left side of her skull. The boy also told the officer that he had moved the gun when he found his mother.

  “Damn,” Lukas said aloud. “She was his first victim, and he got away with it.”

  He continued through the file and came to the statement taken from Dolan. It said he was in his room watching TV and heard a loud pop. He ran into the living room and found his mother dead. He picked up the gun and moved it away from her body, placing it on a table nearby. Lukas continued through the file to the forensic records. There was no mention of gunshot residue tests on either the victim or her son, who was 13 at the time. The medical examiner’s report noted that the wound wasn’t a contact wound but was instead a close proximity wound. Big difference there. He looked through the notes and reports in the file from the investigating detective. There was no mention of a canvass or statements from neighbors or family members other than the son.

  Lukas closed the file and placed it back in the box. Paul Dolan had killed his mother by shooting her in the head, and then he set the gun on the table. The fact that she was a prostitute probably caused the detectives to be a little less aggressive than they might have been. And because the detectives who worked the case didn’t do their jobs, the community was now littered with bodies and a five-year-old girl had been kidnapped.

  Lukas felt sick to his stomach as he walked out of the room and came to a realization.

  Dolan was killing his mother.

  Over and over again.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Brooke sat staring out the window at nothing in particular. It was as gloomy outside as it was in the house. Her stomach was churning; her mind had gone numb.

  The five-memb
er FBI team, including Danny Smart, had already set up in the living room. They brought with them an array of computers and other equipment and were in constant motion. She prayed the equipment and the people using it would help get her little girl back.

  She’d spoken briefly to her father on the phone. He was on his way to Brooke’s house. Her mother’s hyoid bone was fractured, and they were going to keep her for observation for at least one night, but she would be fine. Dolan must have been in a hurry. For that, at least, Brooke was grateful.

  When she called Alex and told him about the situation, he went ballistic. He was in Greeneville, Tennessee, attending some kind of seminar, but he would, of course, be leaving for Kingsport immediately. Not that there was anything he could do. Brooke knew when Alex showed up, he’d only make things worse. He would blame the job. The job had always been his go-to when a problem came up. He’d even had the audacity to blame their divorce on her being a cop. He said it had changed her. But he was the one who had an affair. That was what broke up the marriage.

  Brooke heard the front door open and saw her father walk in. She ran to him and fell into his arms. “Dad! I’m so sorry.” Tears were streaming down her face again.

  “It’s not your fault, honey. It’s nobody’s fault. We need to discuss some things. In private, okay?”

  Brooke and her father walked down the hall. It was adorned with family photos of happier days. They went into her bedroom. He shut the door and stood waiting for her to compose herself before he began.

  “What I’m about to say to you is going to be hard to hear. But please, at least try to listen to me. I know your world has turned upside down, and I know how devastating this must be for you. But you have to find a way to put aside the guilt you’re feeling and look at this through the eyes of an investigator. You have to try to remain positive and try to think as clearly as possible. She’s out there somewhere. You have to believe she’s still alive.”