by Robin Mahle
“Marshall, you can’t possibly hold yourself accountable for what happened. You were just a kid.”
“Maybe you should take your own advice. That’s what I’ve been telling you practically every day since we met.”
“I’m so sorry; I had no idea. You never talk to me about your family.”
“I know. It’s not easy for me to let people in. The last time I did, I got my heart stomped on pretty good.” He moaned a little as he rose from the couch, his bones crackling along the way. “How about another beer? Feel like pizza tonight?”
And that was the end of it. He turned it off just like that. How selfish she felt. Insisting this was all about her and he knew nothing of what she’d gone through. It was a different situation, but he knew what loss felt like. What it felt like going through childhood with that emptiness.
Katie stood up and wiped her eyes so he wouldn’t see how deeply saddened she was for him. He wasn’t the type to accept pity. “Another beer would be great. And I could definitely go for some pizza.” She joined him in the kitchen.
He handed her another beer and raised his own. “Here’s to a couple of messed up kids.”
16
The airport baggage claim teemed with weekend travelers. Midday on a Friday was the worst possible time to be at the San Diego airport. A man emerged from the crowd and Katie knew right away that he was FBI. With a shoulder bag draped over his front, he appeared to be fresh out of the training academy in Quantico. Military-style hair, high and tight, pressed white dress shirt, navy pants. Fit, but not overly muscular and he couldn’t have been more than thirty-five.
“I bet that’s him,” Marshall said.
The man approached, seeming to immediately recognize the two of them. Katie wondered if he’d already run their profiles.
He offered his hand to Marshall first. “Special Agent Nicholas Scarborough, FBI, Behavioral Analysis Unit. You can call me Nick.”
“Detective Marshal Avery, SDPD.” They shook hands. “And this is Kate Reid.”
His grip was firm, but not bone crushing. At this point in Katie’s life, she’d come to realize that there were those men who shook women’s hands like a jellyfish, which she felt lacked respect, or those that shook with full-on, pain-causing hand compression, which meant they were trying to project their dominance. This was neither, and it was those rare men whom she respected most.
“Nice to meet you. Should we head back to the station?” Katie asked.
She relegated herself to the back seat so Marshall could get the agent up to speed. The FBI’s involvement would mean some serious changes in the investigation and it wouldn’t be long before she would know whose side Scarborough was really on; hers, or his own that followed a career-building path on which she was merely a stepping stone.
“We’re getting some pushback from the original investigating officer, who now runs the Rio Dell Police Department. He has no interest in utilizing the ViCAP system,” Marshall said.
“I’m not surprised. We get a lot of departments that just don’t have the manpower to dedicate to entering old case files. With several cities going bankrupt and taking their public services down to barebones, I can understand it. But, without the participation of these jurisdictions, the system is virtually ineffective. I’ll walk him through it today and see if we can get somewhere.” The agent turned to Katie. “I’m sorry you have to go through this, Ms. Reid. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be.”
“I appreciate that, Agent Scarborough. So, what is the Behavioral Analysis Unit?”
“We handle cases involving child and adult victims; abductions, disappearances, homicides. I provide operational support to local law enforcement.”
“I see. I don’t know how much you are aware of, Agent Scarborough, but I’ve been working side by side with Detective Avery for months on this case, my case, and I don’t intend to be pushed to the sidelines.” She wanted to be sure to get that out of the way to avoid any confusion.
“Of course not, ma’am, and please, call me Nick.”
She was beginning to like Nick already.
Reporters waited outside the station, as they had ever since Katie went public and there was Marc Aguilar, with his orange face and paper-white teeth at the head of the pack.
The three of them made a beeline to the entrance to avoid any questions.
“Ms. Reid, I understand the FBI is now involved in the investigation. Care to comment?” He shoved a microphone in her face, but Marshall reached around her and hustled her inside.
“How the hell does he know that?” she asked. “We only just found out ourselves.”
“I don’t know, Kate, but I can’t say that Scarborough’s appearance doesn’t just scream FBI. Aguilar’s probably talking to someone in the station. We need to get the captain to issue a statement that we can’t comment on an ongoing investigation. Hopefully, that’ll be enough to shut up whoever’s flapping their gums here.”
“Agent Scarborough, we’ve got a makeshift workstation for you set up in our small conference room. I hope that’ll be okay for now.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’d just like to speak to Captain Hearn first. Is Chief Wilson still here?”
“Yes. He’ll be here for a few more days,” Marshall said.
“Good. I’ll want to get a download from him too.”
Katie was surprised how quickly Hearn had the space set up for Agent Scarborough. They didn’t mess around when the FBI got involved.
“I’ll be at my desk if you need me,” Katie said to Marshall. “I’m sure we’ll catch up later, Nick. Thanks again.”
Katie walked back to her desk; her files had piled up. Spending a lot of time with Marshall took its toll on her workload. The computer booted up and Katie opened her email, not realizing for a moment that she’d stopped breathing in anticipation of something terrible. But there were no surprises. When would he again make an appearance and catch her off her guard? If his goal was to frighten her, then he had accomplished that much.
She again thought about the trinkets—the prizes—and picked up her cell to call her mother while she slipped out the back and waited for an answer.
“Hello?”
“Mom, it’s me.” Katie listened as her mother flooded her ear with concerns as to why she hadn’t been calling every day and how she tried her apartment, but got no answer. For whatever reason, they almost never tried her on her cell. It was like the cell phone was some foreign technology that they just didn’t understand. “I’m really sorry, Mom. I’ve been staying with Detective Avery as a precaution. Listen, I wanted to ask you something. Was I wearing any sort of jewelry on the day I went missing? Like earrings, a necklace, bracelet, anything?”
“Oh, honey, I don’t remember. The only thing that I thought about was getting you back.”
“It’s okay, Mom, it’s nothing, I was just…”
“Wait. Yes, as a matter of fact, you were wearing a pretty little silver bracelet your grandmother gave you for your birthday, the February before…” She trailed off.
No one around her seemed to complete a sentence that involved reminding Katie of her abduction; not even her mother.
“But, I honestly don’t know if you were wearing it when we found you. Honey, I was so overwhelmed with relief, I didn’t pay attention. But the thing is, I just don’t remember seeing it at all after you came home. I can have your father bring down the boxes in the attic with all your things and see if it’s in one of them.”
“That would be great, Mom. It would be a big help, actually.”
“Can I ask why?”
Katie couldn’t mention the email; it would be too much for her. “I was just curious, that’s all.”
“Okay, then. When are you coming home? I don’t like all these news stories showing his face. I want you home, safe.”
Deborah wasn’t completely off base. He seemed to know Katie’s every move here, maybe staying back home wasn’t a bad idea. “It’s fine, Mom, really.
I work in a police station; I don’t think I could be much safer.”
“Please, promise me you’ll come home soon, okay?”
“I will. I promise. Send Dad my love and I’ll do a better job at keeping in touch. Goodbye, Mom.” Katie arrived back at her cubicle to find an agitated Marshall pacing around it.
“Where the hell have you been? Jesus, Kate, you can’t just go wondering off without telling anyone.”
This was a first. What cause did he have to be so on edge? “I just went out through the break room to call my mom.”
He swatted the air as if to shoo away his concern. “Sorry. I’ve been working with Agent Scarborough on this ViCAP program. We think we have a match to the case in Portland. There are enough similarities to warrant a harder look, anyway.”
“Well, that didn’t take long.”
“No, it didn’t. Someone in Portland’s been using the database and already had the case entered. So when we entered your case, the markers were there and we got a hit. Looks like the Portland PD has been utilizing the program for a while with a lot of success, according to Scarborough. Come on, I’d like you to see this. We need to call the chief in too.”
“Has anyone seen him this morning?” Katie asked.
“He just showed up and is in Captain Hearn’s office; probably complaining about me. You know he hasn’t cared much for me since I took you up to the edge of the woods, where you were found. He told me then I was wasting your time.”
“I know, I remember. It’s a difficult situation, Marshall.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
They entered the makeshift FBI field office where Agent Scarborough was pulling some papers off the printer. Not far behind, Captain Hearn and Chief Wilson came into the room.
“I’ve printed off the identifying markers between your case and the Portland investigation of the missing girl from September 1990. Her name was Angela Richards, eight years old.” Agent Scarborough handed copies to everyone. “You’ll see that the age of the victim is a match to the age Ms. Reid was at the time of her abduction, give or take a year or so. Going past the comparable appearances of each of them—dark hair, petite build—we get into even more important similarities. She was taken from her neighborhood in a rural community just outside of Portland, on her way home from school; very much like Katie. So, we’re seeing his opportunistic nature. Many of these serial killers are driven by opportunity; very few are in fact, planned abductions.
“Her body was found about a year later in Forest Park, just west of downtown Portland. A hiker who had veered off the Wildwood Trail spotted some buried human remains, only slightly exposed above ground. It had been a particularly wet summer, so it was assumed the runoff from the rain washed away some of the material used to bury the body, exposing it just enough to be have been visible by passersby.”
“We are somewhat familiar with this case, agent,” Marshall started. “But to my knowledge, no DNA evidence was uncovered, since that technology was new at the time. And, not to be insensitive, but she’s been in the ground a long time. Even if we could exhume her now, which I assume would be highly unlikely; none of her killer’s DNA would still be present. How can we be sure there is a connection? None of the other presumed victims have ever been found.”
“We aren’t positive, detective, but if we can meet with the lead investigator for this case, or at least someone they’ve got working cold cases, we can take a look at the files for more information.”
“I get that we need to establish a connection here, but aren’t we well past this now? The guy is after me, right? You all think so and I agree. What good is this going to do us now? We know what he looks like and we need to find him. What about the lead on the stationery? Is anyone going to look at that? It’s current, it’s relevant, and I think we need to move forward with it.” Controlling her frustration was becoming difficult and she began to fall in line with the chief’s way of thinking. She was tired of this road they had been down far too many times. It was time for action, but no one else was seeing it that way. “And what about the hotline? Is anyone going to follow up on those leads?”
“I understand where you’re coming from, Ms. Reid, I do. But believe me, we need to talk to the Portland PD. I’m not saying we can’t continue exploring other avenues, but we cannot dismiss this. If we can find a pattern of behavior, we’ll be one step closer, I promise you.” Agent Scarborough scanned the room, seemingly looking for a general consensus among the rest of the team. “We do need to consider your safety, Ms. Reid, and I think the best way we can do that is by entering you into Wit Sec. Normally, this is reserved for witnesses who are about to testify, or have testified on certain cases. But you’ve received threats to your life and, given the situation, you are technically a witness. I think we can justify this particular use of the program.”
“No! Absolutely not! I am already under 24-hour surveillance from Detective Avery. I do not need to be shipped off somewhere where I’ll have no idea what’s going on. None of you would even be here if it weren’t for the fact that I recovered my memory. I am a part of this, damn it!”
“Calm down, Kate.” Marshall was the only person who could possibly get away with saying that right now. “She’s right. She’s the one who’s been persistent and forced everyone’s hand to reopen this investigation.” He shot a disapproving glare at Wilson. “She is a part of this, whether you like it or not. Now, I can’t say that I completely disagree with her needing more protection. I have been keeping her under my wing, but that’s not to say that we shouldn’t be monitoring her cell phone, her email, and anything else that may be a way for him to contact her. He’s proven his ability to reach her time and again. We need to get on top of this before it’s too late.”
Before it’s too late? That was the first time he’d ever expressed that he might actually be afraid for her. That the killer might find her and she wouldn’t be able to get away again.
“I think Agent Scarborough is right about the Portland girl, Angela Richards. We can’t dismiss that. But I believe Katie’s involvement is still critical to this investigation,” Captain Hearn replied.
Katie was surprised to have the captain’s support. Hadn’t he just said the day before he wanted her in protective custody? Had her words finally convinced him otherwise?
“Okay, Ms. Reid, you’ve gotten us this far.” Scarborough seemed resigned. “I don’t have any right to ask you not to see it through. But we will implement Detective Avery’s suggestions. Our guys will tap your cell, trace your emails, and have a regular patrol set up around Avery’s place. In the meantime, I think it’s wise to get in touch with the cold case department at the Portland PD and move forward on this situation. Detective, I’ll let you take the lead on that. I’m going to send some of my people up to Oregon City to follow up on the stationery stores. It’s a start.”
In an instant, Scarborough was on the phone, arranging for a team to be organized to go to Oregon City. With no clear direction, Katie assumed she’d been dismissed and continued back to her desk.
“I guess we’ll finally get a team up to Oregon City. I think Hearn is happy he doesn’t have to pay for it. You going to be all right?” Marshall accompanied her back.
“Yes. Thank you—for standing behind me. I just couldn’t handle being shut away, not knowing what’s going on. Not after everything we’ve done to get this far.”
“I know. That was exactly the point. But be prepared because your privacy just went out the door. Every call you make on your cell, every email you send will be monitored. Does Sam know what’s going on?”
“I talked to her a few weeks ago, before I came forward. She didn’t want me to, but understood why I had to do it. She’s just afraid for me, that’s all. I’ll call her today before they get me wired up and let her know what’s going on.”
“I think that would be wise.”
“When are we going to Portland to talk to those guys up there?”
“I doubt we’ll go there.
They’ll send the lead detective down here, I’m sure. My guess is the guy will probably be here by tonight. I don’t think Agent Scarborough wants to waste any more time and I couldn’t agree more.”
“It seemed like the chief was objecting a little less today. I don’t think he said a word in there,” Katie said.
“That’s because he realized he needs to be on the right side of this deal, or risk not being a part of it at all.”
“I guess. I’m going to run out back and call Sam. Then I’ve got to sort through this backlog. I keep falling behind like this and Captain Hearn might just fire me.”
“I doubt that. I’m going to head back into the conference room and talk to Scarborough, find out when our Portland guy’s going come down. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Katie grabbed her phone and began dialing Sam as she walked toward the break room. It led out to a patio lined with lush greenery and clay pots filled with perennials in shades of red and yellow. It was quiet, save for the soothing buzz of a few bees in search of nectar. She inhaled the warm, but still damp air that had just a hint of salt in it. They were a few miles from any water, but still close enough to smell a trace of the sea. Sitting down on one of the stone benches, she listened to Sam’s phone ringing on the other end. Voicemail.
Damn, she thought. “Hi, Sam, it’s Katie. Just wanted to let you know that I’m fine and I’m staying over at Marshall’s now, so you’ll only be able to reach me on my cell. Oh, and after today, it’s going to be monitored, so if you call me back and get my voicemail, just keep the language clean. Just kidding. I’ll talk to you later, hon. Take care. Bye.”
It had been too long since she’d spoken to Sam and Katie regretted not getting the chance to today. She could use a sounding board right about now.
The apartment was cold and dark, much the way it felt most of the time to Katie. Marshall’s place was very modern and in stark contrast to her own. Concrete kitchen counters atop of black cabinetry, slate-tiled floors, and Copenhagen-type furnishings. Katie much preferred her beachy décor with soft blue walls and bright white trim.
