by Robin Mahle
“We’ve got to go meet with forensics.” Marshall led the way to the back of the station. “They’ve got the results back on the letter he sent you.”
“Do you really think they’ve got anything?” she asked.
“I don’t know. We have to hope he’s going to screw up somewhere down the line before he hurts anyone else. Chief Wilson’s coming down in a few days with the archived files and I want to be able to share the results with him. He’s got the letter sent to him too. We’ll be able to identify any similarities and hopefully find some kind of clue as to where we can find the son of a bitch.”
Katie noticed how Marshall always referred to her abductor in such terms: son of a bitch, bastard, whatever term he felt conveyed his contempt for the man at that point in time. She was no different. But when she first approached Marshall and he got to know her situation, he seemed to focus on helping her deal with what had happened. Now, he took it all so personally, as if the man that hurt Katie had, by default, hurt him as well.
Captain Hearn had been insisting that Katie enter into protective custody since she first came forward, but that wasn’t an option for her. Even Marshall was pushing for it; he wanted to protect her. But there had to be another solution. She’d been hiding from this for far too long already. Her agreement to let Marshall stay with her, at least in the interim, was more to placate the two of them than anything else. That was what she kept telling herself.
The forensics lab had become a familiar place. Katie’s work often revolved around it: collecting evidence from crime scenes, usually thefts, home invasions, and sometimes arsons, if robbery had been involved. She wasn’t assigned any homicides. That required special training and years on the job. She had neither of those qualifications and, for now, that was just fine with her. This past year had brought about enough of a dramatic shift in her life and career. She was content with her work identifying low-life criminals. That was safe, as far as she was concerned. The same couldn’t be said for what she was dealing with on a personal level.
“How are we coming along on the Reid letter?” Marshall asked the techie. That was what he called the guys in the white coats.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news here, detective, but this guy left nothing behind. We’ve run it for prints, DNA, fibers; you name it. I can tell you how old the paper is and where it was likely purchased. It was watermarked.”
“He used watermarked paper?” Marshall’s rhetorical question was answered with a nod from the guy in the coat. Marshall turned to Katie. “It’s not much, but we might be able to narrow down a location. What’s going to be really interesting is to see if Chief Wilson’s letter has the same watermark.”
Turning back to the man, he continued. “So where do you think this paper came from?”
“Not one of the big box office supply stores. No, this came from a small stationery store. The type and quality of the paper and the watermark have been identified as having come from a mill in the Pacific Northwest. We believe it’s the Green Mill Paper Company in Oregon City. Much of what they produce comes from recycled materials, which is what we’re seeing here in the fibers of this sample.” He held up the letter with a large tweezers-like instrument. “This is one of the watermarks they use. Although they mainly sell to publishers and newspapers, they have a loyal base of mom and pop stationery stores that have bought from them for generations. We tracked down their customer list and narrowed it down to five shops in Oregon. These locations were the ones that purchased this particular style of watermarked paper.” He handed Marshall a list of names.
“Well, we thought he hadn’t traveled far and this proves it. We need to get our guys out there and talk to these storeowners; see if they recognize the sketch. You mentioned you knew how old the paper was?”
“Right; yes.” The techie seemed to have been distracted by Marshall’s small but meaningful recognition of his handiwork. “I believe it’s about three years old.”
Marshall deflated, like an old birthday balloon from a party that had ended long ago. “Three years?” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, appearing to fight off the despondence that was building inside of him. They had been hit with so many roadblocks up to now and here was another one.
“That doesn’t necessarily mean he purchased the paper three years ago,” the technician continued. “It could mean the store had it in stock for three years.”
“Yeah, you’re right. We need to go back and see if we can get the captain to sign off on sending a team to question the storeowners. We’ll have to run it by local PD, of course.”
They had started out the door when Marshall stopped and turned back to the lab tech. “Thank you. Nice work.”
A perfunctory smile crossed the technician’s face as he continued on with his work.
The halls were bustling as usual, but they walked in silence. Katie imagined her abductor; his eyes visually consuming what was likely a teenage girl behind the counter of a stationery shop. A girl who came face to face with a killer; completely unsuspecting of the customer in front of her who was purchasing a box of cream colored, watermarked paper.
“Kate, you okay?” Marshall asked.
“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Looks like you were right. He might have slipped up. Something as simple as paper; seems too easy.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high just yet. We have a lead; that’s all we know right now. But yes, it’s usually the small things.”
“Marshall, do you think we should get the chief to send a patrol to my parents’ house?” A sudden fear for their safety came over her. “I don’t know how big this story is going to get, but I’m worried for them. And not just because of him. I can’t stand the thought of the press harassing my parents. They went through enough the first time around.”
“We could, but I don’t believe that they’re in any danger. So far, he hasn’t shown any interest in anyone else but you and the chief and we haven’t heard from him in almost a month. I’m not saying we become complacent, but I don’t want to rattle any cages by creating a presence around your family’s neighborhood.”
Katie was nauseated by the thought that her parents could get wrapped up in all this again. Although she’d already been warned it could very easily go that direction.
“Hey.” Marshall stopped and turned her squarely in front of him. “They’ll be okay, I promise.”
He wasn’t one for breaking promises, but even he couldn’t control what she had unleashed.
As soon as they arrived back in the bullpen, Captain Hearn called them into his office. A veteran of the first Gulf War, Hearn had a reputation for a lack of tolerance for the media or anything that distracted his officers from doing their job. His military-style leadership meant he expected a level of dignity and honor from those under his charge. This included the utmost level of professionalism as the rule when dealing with the unruly press. But for whatever reason, he’d developed a soft spot for Katie and he handled them, for the most part, protecting Katie from the bulk of the onslaught. Maybe it was because he had a daughter; maybe it was because that was just what he did for one of his own.
“Have a seat. I need to talk to both of you.”
The ensuing looks exchanged between Katie and Marshall signaled that this wasn’t going to be good.
“Katie, I think you’ve been doing a great job since you came to work for us. But with everything that’s going on, I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to continue with your fieldwork.” He immediately held up his hand, pre-empting any comments from either of them. “You need to understand that you have drawn a lot of attention since coming forward. Even before you both came to me with this, you’d been working on it without my knowledge. That’s something that Detective Avery should have realized was going to be a problem with me.” A stern look shot out in Marshall’s direction.
“For whatever reason, this Channel 9 reporter seems to have it in for you, Katie. He’s not going to go away and he will find out that y
ou two were working on this case long before it became public. I have no doubt he’s going to drag Chief Wilson, your parents, your friends, and everyone you’ve been in contact with over the past six months into this.”
“I don’t get why the hell this guy…” Marshall leaned forward on his chair, suggesting this was an important point he was about to make.
But Captain Hearn only held up his hand again. “It doesn’t matter what his motives are, Avery. He’s going to get his story. He’s going to question your doctor too, Katie. Not to mention that we have no idea if, or when, the man we’re after is going to make contact with you again. I can’t risk it.”
“Aguilar can’t dispute what happened to me.” Katie glossed over his last point.
“Of course not, but he can and will try to discredit how you came to identify your abductor.” The captain seemed to be growing weary of the conversation. “And what happens when he learns this man might be connected with other cases? That we could be dealing with a serial killer? How much mercy do you think he’ll show you or the other families who might be involved? Look, I don’t give a shit about this guy. What matters is that you cannot continue to be exposed in the field and I’m pulling you out.”
Katie stood up, looked Hearn in the eye, and tried to think of one reason why she shouldn’t be pulled, but none came to her. He was right. The threat was real not only from the man who took her, but from the media as well. “Fine; may I go now?” Almost immediately, she turned to leave, not waiting to be dismissed.
“There’s one more thing, Katie,” the captain started. “I strongly suggest we place you in protective custody.”
She whipped back around and looked at Marshall in astonishment.
“Wait a minute; I thought we discussed this, captain?” Marshall asked.
They both knew that protective custody meant some crap shack in the middle of nowhere. No contact with anyone and no way she’d be able to continue to be involved in the investigation.
“She needs to stay low, Avery. This isn’t some random kidnapping case for you two to solve. There’s a possible killer out there, looking for her. We aren’t going to take this lightly. You, of all people, should understand what’s at risk here.”
“Where are they going to send her?” Marshall asked.
Katie’s irritation grew at his concession to this arrangement.
“I can’t tell you that. There’s a high probability that the FBI is going to get involved with this case. That happens and you can rest assured they’re going to take her far away from here.”
“Why would the FBI get involved?” Katie asked.
“Multiple jurisdictions, suspected serial killer; they’ll get involved if there’s evidence this asshole was involved in the other disappearances that happened the summer you were taken. They’ll get their Behavioral Unit involved. We’ll be pushed out to pasture.”
“I’m assuming you must have some reason to think there’s a connection, captain?” Katie asked.
“I’ve had some interesting discussions with Chief Wilson. We’ll know more when we meet with him day after tomorrow.”
“Look, what if Kate stays with me, at my place, at least until we know more? She’ll be safe there; you know that,” Marshall said.
Relief passed through her at the thought that he was backing her; that she wouldn’t be whisked away to some remote location, unable to contact anyone, especially Marshall. He’d been with her practically every day since the last nightmare; sleeping on her couch almost every night. Some nights, they’d stay at his apartment because it was closer to the station, but her place was bigger. She sometimes felt a little awkward at his place, like they were just a little too close. Although so much had happened since he rejected her kiss that night, she still felt embarrassed. He’d never said a word about it.
“I don’t want her at her apartment anymore, Avery,” the captain started. “He knows where she lives and I don’t care if you’re there or not. I’m not okay with that.”
“Understood, Captain. She’ll stay with me at my place until we figure out what we’re doing with the FBI.”
“From this point on, Katie, you’re to stay close to Avery. Go back to your apartment and pack enough stuff to get you through a week or so. We’ll have a better idea what to do with you then. She’s your responsibility, Avery. You understand that?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Captain Hearn went back to his computer without saying another word; his actions a clear sign they had been dismissed.
Marshall’s office wasn’t far, but it seemed like miles as they walked the halls together once again. She was either going to have to stay with him or be moved to a secure location, period. He opened his office door to let her in and, just for a moment, she noticed a hint of regret on his face.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Katie asked.
His back turned to the door; he looked left down the hall, then right, stepped inside and finally closed it. “We’ve been hanging out for the past month anyway. So, now it’s official. Nothing changes.” His matter-of-fact tone was off-putting, to say the least.
“Except I can’t go back to my place any more. I guess that’s not so bad; a lot of memories there that I don’t mind leaving behind.” In a fleeting moment of nostalgia, her thoughts turned to Spencer and the safe and happy life they had shared. Sitting on their balcony, watching the sunsets, the Sunday mornings spent lazing around in bed till noon; these were things she was better off forgetting. That Katie was long gone now.
“Well, let’s get a few things wrapped up here and we’ll head out to get your stuff.”
Waking up in Marshall’s small apartment on Day One left her feeling out of sorts, but now, Day Two left Katie feeling downright ambivalent. Now that her place was out of the question, where did she belong? She had become a transient; just another unexpected result of her new reality. What was worse was that Marshall had been burdened by her. Not that he would see it that way, but it was how she felt.
Her overnight bag and a larger suitcase had been stacked against the wall along the entryway. Katie rose from the pullout sofa and retrieved the bag. When she unzipped it, the scent of her apartment spilled out; its salty odor reminded her of the beach and brought a smile to her face. The toiletry bag was on top. Katie grabbed it and went into the bathroom. The apartment had only one, but with two doors; one that led to the hall and one that led to Marshall’s bedroom. She quietly locked the door that led to Marshall’s room, not wanting to wake him. He, of course, had offered up his room, but she refused.
She hadn’t slept well, given the new living arrangements, and decided she couldn’t lie in that bed any longer. The hour was still far too early. So early, in fact, that the streetlamps in front of the building were still burning.
Marshall’s place was in the Gaslamp District of downtown San Diego, a highly coveted area because of its proximity to businesses, nightlife, and attractions. But for Marshall, it was just close to the station. She once asked him if he had purchased the apartment before or after he broke up with his fiancée. She wanted to know if they had shared a life there, but phrased the question in such a way as to inquire only as a strictly financial curiosity. Katie was pretty confident he saw through the ruse. Nevertheless, he answered truthfully, as he always did with her. Yes, they had chosen the place together and shared it for a brief time until she left; well before the housing bubble when a cop could still afford such a place.
By the time she finished her shower, Marshall was sitting at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee and eating a slightly burned piece of toast, staring at a rather large textbook that lay out before him.
“You want some breakfast?” he asked, holding up the overcooked toast.
“No thanks. I’m fine. I’ll just get myself some coffee.” She already knew where everything was and grabbed a mug from the cabinet next to the sink.
“You okay about seeing Chief Wilson today?” he asked.
&n
bsp; “Yeah; I just keep getting that same old feeling like we’re running around in circles again.”
“It’s different this time, Kate. We have a lot more information than we did six weeks ago. I think it’s a good idea for the chief to bring all the files down and officially reopen this case. Frankly, this should have happened months ago, but his hands were tied.”
“Right.” Katie sipped her coffee, resting her elbows on the breakfast bar opposite Marshall.
“What’s that you’re reading?” She leaned in.
“I’m just trying to get up to speed on ViCAP.”
“Sorry, what’s that?”
“It stands for Violent Criminal Apprehension Program. It’s another nationwide database that the FBI operates in an effort to link cases together that show similar signatures. It’s used to help identify serial killers.”
Those words still sent a shiver down her back, no matter how many times she’d heard them. “Do we have any signatures? If he is linked to those other kids’ disappearances and they haven’t been found, what signatures are we looking for?”
“There are quite a few we already know. But I want to meet with the chief to see what else he discovered during his original investigation that he hasn’t already shared. He always suspected there was a link, so I want to know why.
“Damn, we’re going to be late.” He glanced at his watch, took a final drink of coffee, and grabbed his keys.
She grabbed her bag and quickstepped to catch up, but he was already one foot out the door.
15
Chief Robert Wilson, from the Rio Dell PD, was already in the conference room; his files spread out across the table. Katie spotted Captain Hearn a few feet ahead and she and Marshall filed in behind him.
