by Debra Webb
At least two dogs were going crazy inside Cagle’s house.
“I didn’t consider the dogs,” Jess muttered, as they walked toward the front of the house. She couldn’t help looking back over her shoulder as she moved away from the protection of the vehicle.
Spears was here, and as much as she wanted to pretend she could ignore that fact and concentrate solely on this investigation, she would only be lying to herself.
“We need to get in there now.” She shook her head. “But those dogs don’t sound too welcoming.”
“I can handle the dogs,” Cook announced as they approached the front porch. “There’s a pen out back. I’ll go in and calm ’em down, then take them one at a time to the pen.”
“I don’t want you getting injured, either.” Damn it. Why hadn’t she thought about the dogs?
“Chief,” Cook pressed. “I love dogs. Dogs love me. I can do this. Trust me.”
“I don’t want any dogs being shot, either,” Jess warned. “If you get in there and get into trouble…”
“I have pepper spray,” Lori offered.
Cook held up his hands. “That will not happen. I swear.”
“I’ll go around back.” Harper called to Mitchell and his partner to follow him. “We’ll cover the back and any side doors.”
Jess needed a second to think about Cook’s offer. “Detective Roark, you and your partner take the barn and any other outbuildings.”
The team dispersed, with Cook waiting impatiently for her answer.
“All right, but don’t do anything I’ll regret,” she reminded him.
“No prob, ma’am.”
As Cook prepared to enter through the front door. Jess and Lori braced to cover him from whatever was on the other side besides the very excited dogs.
Cook elbowed the old glass in the door, shattering it, and reached carefully inside to release the locks, all the while talking to the dogs.
Jess found it quite strange that a man she suspected of being a heinous killer didn’t have better locks. Maybe he figured the dogs would do the trick. Thieves didn’t generally like to deal with ferocious animals, and these sounded reasonably ferocious.
Two large golden retrievers growled and bared their teeth, but Cook somehow managed to sweet-talk them into allowing him closer and then petting them. As much as she appreciated his ability to make that happen, he needed to get on with it. Every second that ticked by was one more that little girl might not have.
Cook removed his belt and used it as a leash. He exited the house, closing the door behind him, and led the first dog around to the pen in the backyard.
Jess and Lori shrugged at each other. “The man has skills,” Lori acknowledged.
“He does, indeed.”
When the second dog was out of the house and on its way to the pen, Jess followed Lori inside. Harper and Mitchell were already coming through the back door. Mitchell’s partner would keep an eye on the yard just in case Cagle or someone decided to join the party.
In the foyer, a staircase divided the front of the house in half. “Take the second floor,” she said to Harper and Mitchell. She and Lori spread out to cover the downstairs rooms. The furnishings were older, comfortable-looking pieces. Only one framed photo, maybe an eleven-by-sixteen, on the wall.
Jess scrutinized the thirtyish woman and two children in the photo. “Well, hello, daughter. And grandchildren.” Cagle had mentioned a daughter and grandchildren, and here they were. If only she knew their names.
A cell phone lay on the table next to the sofa. “Well now we know why he’s not answering his cell.” She scanned the call lists, all deleted, except the ones Jess had made. Contacts, deleted. “I thought you wanted me to find you,” she grumbled.
The team’s first priority was to ensure there was no one in the house who was in trouble or who presented a danger. Living room, dining room, and kitchen were clear. Powder room was as well. Harper and Cook reported the same for the four bedrooms and two baths upstairs.
“Listen up, folks,” Jess announced, “at this point our priority is finding a name and address or a phone number for the daughter.” Since none of Cagle’s coworkers had a clue where he was, maybe the daughter would.
The more tedious part of the search began.
Damn it. She had hoped for more glaring evidence rather than another in-depth search. While her team took the rooms apart piece by piece, she walked through again trying to spot anything she might have missed.
A closet under the stairs snagged her attention. She opened the door and something rushed past her.
Jess stumbled back, almost lost her balance.
A cat… long white hair with black spots…
“You son of a bitch,” Jess muttered. Spot. The cat Emma James had drawn in her pictures.
Fury roaring through her like a tornado, Jess moved back to the closet. She found nothing but winter coats and boots. She started to close the door, but after a second thought she parted the coats and had another look. One of the foster homes she’d lived in as a kid had a closet under the stairs like this and the door to the basement had been in that closet.
“Ah-ha.” An access door lay hidden behind the coats.
Not a full size door. Maybe two feet by four feet. But plenty large enough to climb through. Anticipation had her feeling for a way to open or remove the panel. Could be nothing more than a way to access plumbing or electrical features, but she had to be sure.
She felt a tiny lever behind the frame around the panel. Jess pressed the lever and the panel opened into the space behind it. A narrow set of stairs disappeared into the darkness below. “And what have we here?”
Lori joined her. “A basement? Awesome. Let me get a flashlight.”
“No need.” A big old-fashioned flashlight sat on the floor of the closet.
“I’ll go first.” Lori elbowed her way into the closet.
Jess was never going to get used to everyone jumping in to protect her. But right now all she wanted to do was get down those stairs, so she acquiesced and followed her detective into the darkness.
The steps were narrow and steep. In the basement Lori searched overhead with the beam of the flashlight until she found a light fixture. Just a bare bulb, but it would do. She pulled the string and the basement filled with light.
An open box was the first thing to catch Jess’s eyes. Inside the box were Christmas decorations. Red and green glittery balls and silver tinsel.
“This is it.” She turned to Lori. “This is where he kept the last set of remains.”
Lori called Harper. “We need one of those forensic techs in the basement. And anyone else who isn’t otherwise occupied.”
As quickly as possible Jess and Lori went through the remaining boxes. Nothing relevant. One entire box was filled with old framed photographs. In most of the photos someone had been cut out of the picture. Jess decided it was Cagle’s wife who’d been erased. Several were labeled on the back with a girl’s name and a date. Judging by the dates, this Lucy was his daughter. The photos abruptly stopped when the girl was about nine or ten.
In the larger framed photo in the living room the daughter was much older. Late thirties, judging by the dates on these photos, but it was definitely this little girl all grown up.
Roark showed up to let her know they’d found nothing in the barn or the tool shed.
Jess checked the time. Five forty-five. She had to get to that press conference.
“Hold on, ma’am.”
She turned to see what Harper had found.
“These bricks are loose.” He was tugging at the wall behind the stack of boxes.
As Jess moved closer she noted that the mortar around the bricks on that wall was different, maybe a little newer than that of the surrounding walls. Her heart started to race.
Cook joined Harper and bricks began to fall. Jess dropped her bag to the floor and rushed to help, anticipation roaring in her ears.
When the bricks stopped crashing to the
floor and the dust settled. Jess stood before the opening and tried to assimilate what she saw. “Oh my God.”
It wasn’t until the words echoed in the silence that she realized she’d spoken aloud.
Beyond the brick wall that had served merely as a divider was another room… filled with dolls and toy furniture… even a tricycle. Everything a little girl would want.
“We’re going to need more evidence techs,” Lori murmured.
Jess climbed through the opening they had made and stood in the middle of the space—the playroom. She reached up and pulled the string that turned on the bare bulb overhead. The meager light chased away the dark shadows.
Jess started to tremble.
Most of the brick walls had been coated over with concrete. Those portions were covered in drawings of animals and stick-figure little girls lined up in a long row like old fashioned paper dolls. All done in sidewalk chalk. Names… little girls’ names were everywhere. Dorie Myers… Emma James… Sierra Campbell… and so many others. Jess’s head spun and tears crowded into her throat as she tried to take it all in.
Good God, how long had he held each child before her time was up? Her heart thundered so hard she could barely hear herself think.
Dust was thick on every surface… including the floor. No one had been in here in more than a decade.
What on earth had awakened this monster?
Jess stared at the dolls on the toy bed and in the little carriage. If not here, where would he have taken Janey Higginbotham?
Jess left Lori and Roark in charge of the scene. Cook was tasked with trying to track down Lucy Cagle. A grown and probably married Lucy Cagle, married name unknown. Not an easy task this late in the day on a Friday. But they needed to find her. Her father might be hiding out with her.
Or she and her children could be in danger.
Jess had called Dan with the news. Lori had sent Cagle’s DMV photo to every news outlet in Birmingham. Wherever he was they were going to find him.
“We won’t make it to the press conference on time,” Harper said, as they sped down the country road.
“Do the best you can, Sergeant. I need to be there in case Cagle is watching the news. I want him to know I did what he asked. I found him.”
Linn Park, 6:50 p.m.
Harper kept Jess close at his side as they slipped up behind the podium, where Dan had just introduced Deputy Chiefs Black and Hogan. Dan caught a glimpse of Jess and smiled. That smile made her quiver when her entire body was as tense as a newly tuned guitar string.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t have to introduce this lady to you. Deputy Chief Harris is lead on the investigation that has our entire community frozen in fear.”
Jess stepped up to the mic and made it short and sweet. “We are closing in on the Man in the Moon. We have a suspect and hope to make an arrest within the next twenty-four hours. His name is Fergus Cagle and his face will be on every news channel. If you see this man, we need to know. He is potentially armed and he is absolutely dangerous.” She stared straight into the crowd as she made this statement. “This decades-old nightmare is coming to an end.”
Questions were shouted at her but she stepped back, turning the podium back over to the city’s chief of police.
Dan’s voice drew her attention back to the podium. He looked as handsome as ever in spite of the nightmare they’d been through the last few days. Sometimes just looking at him unsettled her—in a good way. Not to mention the concept that this Dan and the Dan she’d known in high school and college were one and the same. She was so very proud of him, even if she didn’t always show it. Ten years ago, when they’d run into each other, he’d been working for the mayor and was just about to move to the police department as a liaison to the mayor’s office, the Bureau, and other organizations.
He had certainly climbed his way to the top, and he’d done so based on an outstanding job, not whom he knew. Daniel Burnett was the real thing. A genuinely good man.
Something else she remembered about running into him on Christmas Eve ten years ago—they’d ended up back at his place having mind-blowing sex. God, she must have been out of her mind. Actually she’d been celebrating a much anticipated promotion. Dan wasn’t so much celebrating as he appeared to be grateful and relieved to have his second divorce behind him.
He’d also been sporting much longer hair and two weeks’ beard growth. She almost hadn’t recognized him when she bumped into him that evening at Publix. He’d laughed and told her that he was playing Joseph in a big church production his mother was coordinating. Jess had gotten a good laugh out of that as well.
Dear old Katherine. She’d always had her son wrapped around her little finger.
Jess’s hand went to her belly. Good Lord, the thought of that woman being the grandmother to her children was terrifying.
Stop, Jess. No borrowing trouble… yet.
There was a little girl out there who needed her. And all those parents who just wanted to bring their little children home for a proper burial. Damn the Man in the Moon.
Damn you, Fergus Cagle.
Moving along the fringes of the audience, she scanned the crowd. Harper was right next to her doing the same. She doubted Cagle would show up here, but it wasn’t unheard of.
Deputy Chief Black stepped to the podium and gave an update on the search for the three women in the photos Spears had sent. Jess noticed that he didn’t mention their names or anything about the bait Spears had used to lure them to wherever the hell he wanted them. Black relayed only that two had been identified and that every effort was being made to identify the third young woman.
Reporters fired questions at both Dan and Black about Cagle and the missing Higginbotham child. The Man in the Moon case was uppermost on their minds. It hit squarely home, and everyone wanted it solved.
Jess had him. Sierra Campbell’s blanket could be connected to the box of Christmas decorations. To top it off, they had that playroom in the basement… all those little girls had left their names and drawings on the walls. Sick bastard.
She had him all right, and she was going to get him, preferably alive.
The families of the rest of his victims deserved to know where their children were.
Jess tried to get a deep breath, but the crush of the crowd was getting a little uncomfortable. She didn’t usually feel claustrophobic, but today it was getting to her. She leaned toward Harper. “Let’s move away from the crowd to some place with a better view.”
He gave her a nod and started cutting a path. She followed close behind him. Someone tapped her on the left shoulder. She twisted to see who had touched her and she came face-to-face with the dark-haired man and his snazzy sunglasses.
She reached into her bag for her weapon.
He pivoted and made his own path through the crowd.
Jess went after him, her hand jammed into her bag, fingers around the Glock.
Keeping up with him was impossible, but she kept his head and shoulders in view. She wanted to call out to him, order him to stop, but she couldn’t draw attention or her weapon in this crowd.
Harper moved up beside her. “Where are you going?” he called out above the applause that had started.
“It’s him—the dark-haired man. Navy suit jacket. Dark glasses. Up ahead.” As if he’d known she was talking about him, he glanced back.
Harper spotted him and started slicing through the crowd. Jess slowed down, had to catch her breath.
“Keep going,” she muttered. Dredging up a second wind, she burst forward again. She didn’t want the guy to get away this time. She cut around to the left in hopes of intersecting with what appeared to be his destination. Harper was closing in on him.
A body slammed hard into her.
She cried out… went down on her hands and knees.
Her bag hit the ground, the contents scattering.
Hands and knees stinging, she shoved her Glock back into her bag and gathered her things, muttering one blistering
curse after the other.
A hand grasped her elbow and helped her to her feet. She turned to thank whoever had decided to be a gentleman but he was already walking away, moving effortlessly through the mob of bodies. The back of his blond head was all she could see…
… and still she somehow knew.
No.
The world seemed to lapse into slow motion as the blond man stopped. He looked back over his shoulder as if he’d felt her watching him.
He smiled and the ground beneath her feet shifted.
Spears.
She grabbed her bag, jammed her hand inside for her weapon.
But he was gone.
“Are you all right, Chief?”
Jess turned to face her detective.
“I looked back and didn’t see you.” Harper shrugged. “I had to come back for you.”
Which meant the dark-haired man had gotten away, just as Spears had gotten away.
She blinked once, twice, struggling to wrap her brain around what just happened. “I think I need to sit down, Sergeant.”
He grabbed her when she would have hit the ground. “Come on, Chief, let’s get you out of this heat.”
Dunbrooke Drive, 9:20 p.m.
Jess was neck deep in hot water and it felt amazing.
It wasn’t her tub, it was Dan’s. He’d insisted she come home with him and the fact of the matter was she didn’t want to be alone tonight any more than she had last night. Maybe she never wanted to be alone again.
Spears had gotten that close to her.
He’d touched her just like he had when she’d interviewed him. Back when she was still Special Agent Jess Harris.
What the hell was he trying to prove? In a park filled with cops and reporters at a press conference?
More important, why hadn’t he done what she would have expected him to do?
He could have killed her.
Jess’s body trembled in spite of the delicious heat of the water. Eric Spears could have plunged a knife deep into her back or used a hypodermic needle filled with the drug ketamine, which he used on all his victims. He could have shot her with a silenced weapon during one of the many outbursts of applause. He could have taken her with him by force.
