by D. K. Hood
“One of the FBI agents mentioned much the same to me on the phone the other day. We do have one lead to follow up, though. Zoe and Jane mentioned a spider tattoo; we’ll start there.” Jenna snapped her book shut. “I’ll make some calls and get permission to re-interview Zoe. I’ll talk to the parents of both girls and see if they have alibis for the time of death of both victims so we can rule them out.” She flicked him a glance. “Take your lunch break now and I’ll go when you get back.”
Kane smiled at her. “I’ll call you if I find out anything interesting.” He pulled up outside the sheriff’s office.
“See that you do.” Jenna slipped from the seat and strolled to the office without a backward glance.
Kane headed down to Aunt Betty’s Café for lunch but food was the last thing on his mind. In the space of three days, they had found two kidnapped girls and the same number of dead men. They had no suspects to arrest for the kidnapping crimes, as according to the girls, the dead men had acted alone, but they needed to find at least two other men involved in molesting the girls. It will be like finding a needle in a haystack.
He walked into the café, took his favorite seat by the window, then ordered his lunch from Susie Hartwig. Sipping his coffee, he mulled over the suspects and possible scenarios. The killer or killers knew the molesters’ identities, which meant at one time the men involved had not been as careful as they were now. His mind wandered to his meeting with the Booval brothers. Although as mad as rabid dogs about their sister’s ordeal, her kidnapper, Macgregor, had spent time in jail for the crime. They had no apparent motive to hunt down the other men unless they had reason to believe they had been involved in taking their sister. Had she told anyone?
A child going through the ordeal of kidnapping would be in shock and might not remember details. Angelique could well have identified Macgregor as her kidnapper and years later recognized two of the clowns working with her brothers as the other men involved. Maybe she did not want to go through another trial or believed that too much time had passed since her kidnapping to bring the other men to justice. If she had informed her brothers, it was feasible for them to take the law into their own hands to save their sister from reliving the events.
Who else on his list of suspects had a motive? Could Lizzy Harper’s father tie in with this case? From what her mother told him, at least one other man was involved and the timeline fit. He would need to look deeper to find the answers.
He understood how predators worked on kids’ minds. The lies they told went way past telling the child their parents had died. The kidnapper often threatened to kill the kid’s family if they escaped, and if the molester held the kid for months or years, that type of programming would be difficult to break. What would happen if one of these kids came face to face with their captor as an adult? Would they suffer a flashback then plot revenge?
He pulled out his cellphone and accessed the case files. He meticulously read everything on the kidnapping and murder cases. Nothing seemed to overlap although he needed to locate Stewart James Macgregor, the man who had kidnapped Angelique Booval. As the court had sealed Angelique’s file, he would like to speak to her as well in case she had overheard the mention of other men. If he presented the facts to her as an adult, she might cooperate. Then again, she could have been the first girl the men had kidnapped and might have escaped before the other victims became involved.
He turned his attention to the dwindling list of suspects and wondered if Rowley had discovered similar cases in any of the other towns. Adam Stickler’s alibi had checked out, so he deleted him from his list of suspects then considered the women living in town who had suffered abuse as kids. Lizzy Harper and her mother went to the top of his list. A mother and daughter seeking revenge was a distinct possibility, especially as they moved around the area frequently. He would need to speak to the schoolteacher, Pattie McCarthy, and with Jenna busy, he would have to take the rookie, Paula Bradford, with him. If Miss McCarthy had a problem with men, having a female deputy along might be of assistance.
He dropped some bills on the table then strolled back to the office. Glad to see Rowley fully in control, he sat down in his cubicle and planned his afternoon. If Angelique Booval was living with her parents in Blackwater, he would speak to Jenna later and maybe they could arrange to visit Angelique. His mind went to Jenna. With another murder, he worried about her PTSD flashbacks. If he could take her mind off the case for an hour or so, it would help, and he wondered if she would accept an invitation to dinner. Perhaps if he tied up as many loose ends as possible this afternoon, he could try to convince her to put work aside for an hour. Yes, dinner would be a good idea for a start. She had to eat. I will take her to the Cattleman’s Hotel. I’ll need to book a table.
He put that on his to-do list and, flipping open his notepad, found the number of the Clean as a Wink cleaning service and called them. When he identified himself, the person on the end of the line informed him where to find the Harpers that afternoon. He jotted down the details then went online to look up Pattie McCarthy’s address. As Rowley suspected, she lived on School Road close to Stanton Forest. He took down the details then pushed to his feet and scanned the office for Bradford. He strolled to her desk and cleared his throat. “I’m going to interview a suspect.” He stared into her big startled eyes and wondered how she would cope in a crisis if he scared her by speaking to her. He offered her a comforting smile. “I want you to ride shotgun.”
“Yes, sir.” Bradford gave him a curt nod, collected her things, and followed him to his SUV. “May I ask what case?”
Kane slid behind the wheel, waited for her to buckle up then took off down the road, lights flashing to disperse the crowd. People strolling around as if jaywalking was legal leaped back onto the sidewalk and glared at him. Once off the main street he flicked her a glance. “The murders. We have a theory that a vigilante is murdering a group of pedophiles. The killer could be taking revenge on the men who abused her as a child or it could be a family member of an abused child.”
“What do we have on the pedophile ring?”
“Not much. We believe there was a group of at least four men involved, and going on the fact they kept one of the girls for eight years, we must assume the group has been active for some time. Nothing came to light from an FBI investigation into child exploitation last year after we arrested a man for child pornography. I believe these men are very smart or not hanging around chat rooms or other online forums long enough for the FBI to notice them. I think considering the time between the cases, they slipped through the net.”
“How could that be possible with an ongoing FBI investigation?”
“Lack of boots on the ground.” Kane grimaced. “Last count there were 346 listed sex offenders in Montana alone, which are their main priority. They have a grading system as to how dangerous they are considered. There are probably thousands of predators they haven’t detected yet.” He sighed. “I wondered how many kids went missing over the last ten years so contacted the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children and they told me approximately 800,000 children are reported missing each year. That’s about 2,000 per week.” He looked at her startled expression. “Yeah, horrific but true.”
“That’s terrible. What about Zoe?” Bradford looked shocked. “Didn’t anyone look for her?”
Kane shook his head. “Not here, she went missing from Helena. The Blackwater records listed Jane Stickler as a runaway. I did find one local case involving Angelique Booval and investigated by the Blackwater sheriff. It led to the arrest of Stu Macgregor; he is on the register as a low-risk pedophile. The other one involved Lizzy Harper, who killed her father for molesting her.”
“Okay. What do I need to know about the suspects we are interviewing?”
“They are women who suffered abuse in the last fifteen years. The first is Pattie McCarthy, a schoolteacher.” Kane flicked her a glance. “I found a note on her case. It seemed the sheriff at the time was convinced she was m
aking up a story to get attention. He failed to follow up with a medical examination. It was a botched investigation from the start. I want to know if anything really happened.”
“So you need me along as a woman not as your deputy.” Bradford gave him a disappointed look and dropped her gaze to her hands.
“As the women involved have issues with men, I want Miss McCarthy to feel comfortable during the interview.” Slightly annoyed, he cleared his throat. “As my deputy, it will be your responsibility to ask her the questions. It is unlikely she will speak to me about such a sensitive issue.”
“What do you want me to ask her?”
“First of all, ask her whereabouts between Monday through to last night. Then lead into questions about her complaint, when it occurred, how many men were involved. Does she remember any names at all?” He glanced over to see her writing in her notebook. “Tell her we found two kidnapped girls this week and we’re investigating similar cases to see if they’re linked. Ease into the questions. I want you to wear your earbud and mic, so I can hear you. Then if I think of anything else to ask her, I’ll contact you.”
“So you’re not coming to the door with me?” Bradford searched his face as she attached her earbud and switched on the receiver.
He turned the car onto School Road, found the house, and pulled up outside. “I’ll be close by but I don’t want to frighten her.” He pulled out his communication device and waved her from the car.
When Deputy Bradford knocked on the door, Kane caught sight of an athletic woman in her mid-twenties. He listened with interest as Bradford explained the reason for her visit.
“As you can imagine, we are following any possible leads to prevent this from happening to other children.” Bradford’s voice dropped to a confidential whisper. “Any information you could offer might save another girl from being taken.”
“Really? Why come to me now?” Pattie McCarthy’s voice was shrill. “No one offered to help me at the time, did they? My parents thought I was lying and so did the sheriff.”
“I don’t think you lied or I wouldn’t be here.” Bradford straightened. “Do you mind telling me about your whereabouts this week?”
“I was home most of the time. I don’t go out much.” Pattie sneered. “Oh, this isn’t about the girls you found, is it? I watch the news. You think I had something to do with the men’s bodies showing up all over town.” She snorted as if in disgust. “Well, let me see, I went out on Wednesday into town to buy groceries and walked around the festival. I did see a few people I know. Let me see, Susie Hartwig at Aunt Betty’s Café, will that do?”
“I’ll speak to her.” Bradford made a few notes. “Anyone else?”
“Not that I recall but I’m sure many people saw me in town.”
“What about Saturday night?” Bradford cleared her throat. “Did you go out at all?”
“I was home alone. I don’t go out on dates.”
“What make of car do you drive?” Bradford looked down at her notebook.
“A Jeep.” Pattie stared past her at Kane. “Do you need the earbud communication device so Deputy Kane can listen? Does he get off on hearing the lurid details?” she snorted and her lip curled. “Yes, I know your name, Deputy Kane. I don’t see you taking women out on dates. Prefer little girls, do you?”
Kane turned his head, disturbed by her disgusting insinuation. He spoke into his mic. “I can’t believe she teaches children with that kind of attitude. Keep asking the questions.”
“Miss McCarthy, if you have a valid reason for that comment, I’m sure Sheriff Alton will be more than happy to take your complaint, but right now we need information.” Bradford tossed her blonde head in an agitated manner. “You told the sheriff someone kidnapped you as a child. Can you remember how many people were involved?”
“Okay, fine, but you need to watch men like Deputy Kane.”
“I’ll make sure to.” Bradford hunched her shoulders. “Please, Miss McCarthy, any details you can offer would be of great help.”
“I remember the kidnapping like it was yesterday. A man grabbed me from my bed, dragged me out the window, and bundled me into his car.” Pattie grunted in anger. “Four men abused me then one of them dropped me back inside my window. When I told my dad, he said I was having a bad dream.” Her eyes blazed. “They didn’t even call a doctor to examine me. My father hit me and told me he was ashamed of me.” She bit down hard on her lip, leaving marks. “He took me to the sheriff’s office as a punishment; he wanted him to lock me up for the night to scare me straight. No one would believe me, no one.”
“I believe you. Where did the assault occur—in a house?”
“No, not a house.” Pattie shook her head. “It was the Fall Festival, like now. I’m pretty sure he took me to a tent in the park. I could hear the canvas flapping.”
The hair on the back of Kane’s neck stood on end. “Ask her if they wore masks.”
Bradford relayed the question and he waited for Pattie to reply. “They put a bag over my head and gagged me but I remember things about them. The smell of them, for instance, but it is too late to do anything now. It would be my word against theirs, wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe not. Can you remember anything significant at all? Any small thing might help us to find these men.”
“Enough questions. I am not going to rake this up again. It gives me nightmares. I’ve been in therapy for years.” Pattie shook her head and backed away. “That’s all I’m going to say. I have to go. I have an appointment in town.”
“Just one more thing. How long ago did this happen?”
“Fourteen years ago this week.” Pattie’s gaze moved back to Kane in the car, and if looks could kill, he would be toast.
He barked out a question. “Ask her if one had a spider tattoo on his hand and tell her two of them have been murdered. Watch for her reaction.”
When Bradford relayed the question, from Kane’s viewpoint he could see the color drain from Pattie’s face.
She snarled her reply. “I don’t remember but I’m glad they are dead. They got what they deserved.”
17
Meddling cops. She strolled down the main street in an effort to cool her anger. The sheriff was obviously arrowing in on victims and not concentrating on catching the monsters. She hated crowds, hated men, but had to act “normal” to rid the world of pedophiles. She strolled past the Community Hall and forced her lips to smile at the old women selling their wares on the white-linen-covered stalls, then wove her way through the hordes of kids trailing balloons. Kids she liked just fine, but men she could not trust.
With the Black Rock Falls County Sheriff’s Department crawling all over the mountains, the next monster would have to wait. She needed to take her time with him, and would have to distract the sheriff away from the area. Killing a monster took time. As they liked to play games with the little girls they violated, she would return the favor. The previous day in a chat room with him, he told her he wanted to play a special game with her and she willingly agreed. She smiled into the sunshine. I guess a dying man deserves a final wish.
Sipping her takeout coffee, she stared at the young girls moving through the crowds enjoying the festival, oblivious to the threat close by. Little did they know, like an eagle spotting a rabbit, a destroyer of innocence could swoop down and steal them away in seconds.
Predators believed they were invincible, untraceable, and safe, but she would find them and she would kill them.
She would kill them all.
18
Jenna’s cellphone chimed. She stared at the unidentified caller ID and leaned back in her office chair. “Sheriff Alton.”
“This is Doctor Allan. You’ll be pleased to know Zoe is well enough to speak to you this afternoon. Zoe’s parents are more than happy for you to speak to their daughter but I must insist you keep the question time to a limit. You should be aware shock can creep up on a person.”
She sighed with relief. “Thank you. I can assure y
ou, I will be most careful. I am coming alone.”
“I’ll let them know.”
“How long before I can talk to Jane?”
“It is early days, Sheriff. Her parents have just arrived. I’ll be in touch when she is available.”
“Sure, thank you. I’m on my way now.” After disconnecting, she called Kane and relayed the news. “Did you get anything out of Pattie McCarthy?”
“Not much. She can’t identify the men who took her.”
“Okay, I have to go, we’ll talk later. Have a chat with the Booval brothers again and find out if their sister is willing to speak to us.”
“I was heading that way. Good luck with the interview.”
Jenna smiled. “Thanks.”
Twenty minutes later, she parked her car in the police and emergency services parking lot at the hospital and made her way inside. She rode the elevator up to the restricted ward. The hospital smell brought back a wave of bad memories from her near-death experience the previous winter and she fought the need to turn around and leave. I have to stop acting like an idiot and help the kids.
She found Zoe scrubbed clean and with her hair tied in a ponytail, sitting up in bed looking quite bewildered as her siblings dashed around the room playing with latex glove balloons. A woman stood when she entered, and as she approached, Jenna could see she had been crying. “Mrs. Channing? I’m Sheriff Alton. I’ve come to have a few words with Zoe if that’s okay?”
“Yes, yes of course. I can’t thank you enough for bringing Zoe home to us.” Mrs. Channing waved hopelessly at the other children. “My husband went to buy coffee. He’ll be back soon and will take the children outside.”
