Sins of the Past

by Julia Derek

  She rang the doorbell to her apartment, hoping that Trevor would come to open at the same time as she felt the doorknob to see if it was unlocked. Much to her surprise, she found that it was.

  With a violently pounding heart, she entered the apartment. It was dead silent in there. Much too silent for an apartment that was supposed to have two small kids in it. Had they gone out somewhere? Why hadn’t Trevor locked the door in that case? Turned off the lights? Swallowing hard, she called out, “Trevor? Luis? Anna?”

  No answer. Her phone rang again, cutting through the eerie silence. She jerked hard, stopping in her tracks. She looked at the phone, praying that it was Trevor this time, but it wasn’t. It was Joanna again. She sent the call to voicemail. She simply couldn’t talk to Joanna right this second and instead continued into the apartment, checking the bathroom on her way, the kitchen, the living room. All were empty. Now she was standing outside Luis and Anna’s room that they shared. Fearing the worst, she made herself open the door to see what was inside. It, too, was empty, the beds untouched. She let out the breath she’d been holding. The only place she hadn’t checked yet was the bedroom she had shared with Diego. She highly doubted they would be in there, but she should still check, so she did.

  It was as empty and still as the rest of the house.

  She sat down at the edge of her bed and tried to think. Trevor must have taken the kids somewhere and his phone was out of range. He had only forgotten to lock the door. She didn’t like that he had, but forgetting something like that could happen to the best of us. Yes, of course that’s what he had done. He had taken the kids to see a movie or something. They would be back any second now.

  She tried his phone again. Maybe he would pick up this time. He didn’t, and instead she heard a phone ringing somewhere in her apartment. What’s that? she thought. What’s ringing?

  It couldn’t have been… She tried calling Trevor’s phone again and she heard the same ringing somewhere in her apartment. Yes, that must be his phone.

  She got to her feet and headed toward the bedroom door, the rings getting stronger the closer she got to the living room. They stopped as soon as his voicemail picked up. Exiting the bedroom, she called his phone again. Yes, that was definitely his phone, and it sounded like it was coming from somewhere in the middle of the living room. She walked closer to the coffee table and the ringing got stronger. She was near it now. Three steps away from the coffee table, she spotted it. It was lying on the rug beneath the coffee table. Pepe the cat walked by and leaped up onto the couch.

  Putting her own phone on the coffee table, she squatted and picked up the phone from the floor. The screen told her there were tons of missed calls from her number, so it was no doubt whose phone she was looking at. Scowling, she wondered what the hell Trevor’s phone was doing under her coffee table.

  What the hell is going on? She jerked hard when her own phone rang again. Reaching for it, she dropped it on the floor she was so fidgety. The phone kept ringing and she finally got hold of it, seeing who was calling. Joanna again.

  She pressed the Talk button and put the phone to her head, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Kate?” Joanna’s voice. “Are you there?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was barely audible.

  “Why did you hang up on me like that before? What’s going on?”

  “Trevor and the kids are gone.” She felt numb, she was so nauseous now.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Trevor and the kids are gone,” she repeated tonelessly.

  “Where did they go?”

  “I don’t know. He was supposed to babysit for me while I was going on the interview. Now they’re all gone and he’s not answering his phone.”

  “Maybe he took them out somewhere and his phone’s not working.”

  “No, it’s working. I’m holding it in my hand as we speak.”

  “You’re holding it in your hand? How can you hold it in your hand?”

  “Because I found it in my living room under the coffee table.”

  “What? You found Trevor’s phone under your coffee table? I’m totally confused now.”

  “I am too. Joanna, I have a really bad feeling about this.”

  “Why? Trevor probably just took the kids out and forgot his phone.”

  “Yeah, maybe, but I don’t think so.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Kate closed her eyes. Oh, God, please let me be wrong. Please let Trevor and the kids walk into the apartment right now. Please let it be like Joanna said. Please. I can’t take any more bad things. I can’t lose my children, too.

  “Kate? Are you still there?”

  “Yes,” Kate mumbled. “I arrived home later than I thought. He should be here with the kids now. Why would he take them somewhere and not tell me about it first? He could have texted me.”

  “I’m sure this has a perfectly reasonable explanation to it. You’ll see. Trevor loves your kids, right?”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Do you want me to come over?”

  “Yes, please do. I need to show you something.”

  “I’ll be there in thirty. Hopefully, Trevor and the kids are back then.”

  Yes, one can always hope, Kate thought. But something inside her said that it wasn’t so. They were gone. Her kids were gone and Trevor had taken them.

  * * *

  Chapter 32

  By the time Joanna arrived at Kate’s apartment twenty-five minutes later, Kate was pacing the living room, out of her mind with worry. She kept hoping that she was wrong, that the feeling in her stomach that kept telling her Trevor had taken her children and would never come back with them was only fear talking.

  She rushed to open the front door when someone was ringing the doorbell insistently. Joanna was standing on the other side, worry etched into her features. Her brown bob was a little messy, like she had been running, and she was wearing her purple, square glasses today.

  “Hey,” she said. “So they haven’t shown up yet?”

  “Uh-uh,” Kate replied and stepped aside, letting Joanna into her place. “I have a very, very bad feeling about this, Joanna.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I’ll show you.” Kate grabbed Joanna by the arm, and led her into the living room where she had her laptop open on the wooden coffee table there. They stopped in front of the computer screen where Kate had again Googled “shamrock AB” and lots of images and websites regarding the Aryan Brotherhood had come up.

  She pointed at the screen.

  “What are you trying to tell me?” Joanna asked, frowning behind her glasses.

  “Luis told me that Trevor had a shamrock tattoo on his forearm with the letters AB in it.”

  “Really? I have a hard time picturing Trevor with any tattoos at all. Are you sure Luis isn’t mistaken?”

  “I can’t be absolutely sure of course, but it’s not like him to say things that aren’t true. Not those kinds of things.”

  “Hmm.” Joanna took a seat on the off-white couch and took a closer look at the computer screen. She clicked on the Wikipedia hyperlink for the Aryan Brotherhood, and started reading what was written about the gang. Kate sat down beside her friend and read with her:

  Its motto is simple – “blood in, blood out.” AB chapters can be found in most major federal and state prisons in the country. As a crime syndicate, the AB participates in drug trafficking, male prostitution rings, gambling, and extortion inside prison walls. On the streets, the AB is involved in practically every kind of criminal enterprise, including murder-for-hire, armed robbery, gun running, methamphetamine manufacturing, heroin sales, counterfeiting, and identity theft.

  In Their Own Words:

  “An Aryan brother is without a care/He walks where the weak and heartless won’t dare/And if by chance he should stumble, and lose control/His brothers will be there, to help reach his goal/For a worthy brother, no need is too great/He need not but ask, fulfillm
ent’s his fate/For an Aryan brother, death holds no fear/Vengeance will be his, through his brothers still here.”

  —AB membership pledge

  “For the Aryan Brotherhood, murder is a way to make a social statement. If blacks attack whites, we send a message. We go pick one of their shot callers. We catch them walking across the [prison] yard under guard escort in handcuffs. It don’t matter. We’re going to butcher him in front of God and everybody at high noon in the middle of the yard. And it’s not just going to be a few clean stab marks. It’s going to be a vicious, brutal killing. Because that’s how brothers [AB members] take care of business, and a brother’s work is never done.”

  —Interview with imprisoned ex-AB “commissioner” John Greschner, Intelligence Report, Winter 2012”

  Members of the AB typically can be easily identified by their tattoos. Popular tattoos among AB members include a shamrock inscribed with the number 666, swastikas, the abbreviation A.B., and double lightning bolts, which stand for Hitler’s SS.

  “See?” Kate said and pointed at the last paragraph that described the tattoos of AB members. “That’s exactly what Luis said he had on his arm. A shamrock with the letters AB attached to it. Obviously, he’s a member of the AB. I just read somewhere that the ‘blood in/blood out’ part means that the only way they can leave the gang is if they’re dead. And since Trevor isn’t dead, he must be a member still.”

  Joanna looked at her. “I see what you’re saying. But even if he is a member of the Aryan Brotherhood, why would he want to take Luis and Anna? They aren’t black. Aren’t the AB only against black people? That’s what it sounds like from reading this stuff.” She nodded at the computer screen.

  “I think they’re against anyone who’s not white,” Kate replied.

  “Okay, maybe, but I don’t get why he would want to take them at all. Why bother?”

  Kate rested her forehead in her palms. “I don’t either. Maybe it has something to do with Diego. Look at this part: ‘We’re going to butcher him in front of God and everybody at high noon in the middle of the yard. And it’s not just going to be a few clean stab marks. It’s going to be a vicious, brutal killing.’”

  “Yeah?”

  Kate removed her hands from her face and straightened, turning to face her friend: “Diego’s killing was vicious and brutal. And Diego is not exactly a fair-skinned Swede.”

  “So you think Trevor might have killed Diego?”

  “Yeah, probably. Somehow, he did it.”

  “But for what reason? Only because he’s Latino?”

  Kate shrugged, feeling ill. “For someone who’s part of the Aryan Brotherhood, that seems to be reason enough.”

  Joanna blew out a breath. “Okay, maybe. But why Diego of all non-white people? There are tons of non-white people in New York City.”

  “That I don’t know. Only that I think he did it.” She checked the time on the clock in the cable box. It was almost five o’clock, and there was still no sign of Trevor and the kids. He had to have taken them. “I should call the police and tell them that I think Trevor has kidnapped Anna and Luis.”

  “If you think that’s what’s happened, that’s what you should do.”

  Kate’s eyes spotted the card that Detective Larry White had dropped off during his last visit, and that she had placed in the big glass bowl on the coffee table in the living room. She reached for it and looked for the contact number, then dialed it on her cell phone.

  * * *

  Chapter 33

  Larry picked up the phone when it was ringing in his pocket. He didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello?”

  “Detective White?” a weak female voice said.

  “Yes, this is he. Who is this?”

  “This is Kate Martinez. My kids are gone and I think I know who’s taken them.”

  Larry frowned. He was almost certain he was talking to the woman whose husband’s murder he and Wil were examining. The words were coming out of her so fast, he just barely picked up what she had said. Just to be sure he’d heard her right, he asked, “Kate, what did you just say?”

  “I said that my kids are gone. I think the person who has taken them is the same person who killed Diego.”

  Larry grabbed the phone more tightly. “Hold on a sec. You’re saying your kids are gone, and that you believe the person who’s taken them also killed your husband? Is that right?”

  “Yes. A person I believed was a friend. He was babysitting for me while I was going on a job interview. I need for you to come help me.” Her voice broke and she started to cry. “Oh, God, I need to find them... You need to help me find my children…”

  “We will help you, Mrs. Martinez, but for now, please calm down and try to speak a little slower. I need to ask you some questions. First, who is this person? What’s his name?”

  He could hear her take a couple of deep breaths, then clearing her throat.

  “His name is Trevor Cook,” she said in a more contained voice. “I dated him briefly right before I met Diego. I broke off things with Trevor so I could be with Diego. He took it very well, so we stayed in touch throughout my marriage, and then he was extremely supportive of me in the days following Diego’s death. He was a very good… friend. I needed a lot of support, and he gave it to me.” She sighed heavily. “I realize now that he was trying too hard. No normal man would ever do all that he did for me. I should have known all along that he had some kind of ulterior motive… that he was manipulating me. Oh, God, I—”

  “Please try to stay focused, Kate. We will do everything we can to help you. You’re telling me you think he had an ulterior motive for giving you all this support? That he might actually be the one who killed your husband?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was so faint it was barely a whisper. “Not directly because he was with me that night, but for sure he had something to do with the murder. Had Diego killed somehow.”

  “I see. How long have your children been missing?”

  “They were supposed to be here with him when I got home. I got home more than an hour ago and they’re not here. No one was here.”

  “What makes you think he has taken them? You said he was babysitting for you. Maybe he just took them out somewhere and will return soon. Did you try contacting him?”

  “Yes, of course, lots of times, but his cell phone is in my apartment. He must have left it here to show me he means business. It’s been too long. Oh, God, I have a very bad feeling about this…” It sounded like she was about to start hyperventilating.

  “Take a deep breath, Kate,” Larry ordered her sharply. “Then call the local station and tell them what you just told me, and that my partner and I are working your husband’s murder case. They will be able to help you. We aren’t in New York City right now. Do you have my card? The number to the station is on it.”

  “Yes, I do have your card,” she stuttered.

  “Look for the number to the station and call it. They will help you, but you must stay focused. You panicking won’t do your children any good. We will be back in the city at the latest by tomorrow morning. We’ll contact you then, okay?”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Larry said goodbye and disconnected the call, then turned to Wil, who was staring at him where she sat in the passenger seat. They were on their way back to Norman, Oklahoma, where they would decide whether to keep looking for Pete Dalton in the area, or what their next step would be.

  “That was the Martinez widow?” she asked.

  “Yep,” Larry said and put away his phone.

  “Someone’s taken her children?”

  “Yes, that’s what she claims. The man who she believed was a good friend and who babysat for her today.” He went on to tell Wil what Kate had just told him.

  “So she found his phone in her apartment?” Wil asked when he was done.

  “Yeah.”

  “If they’ve only been gone for a little more than an hour, it’s possible that there’s a reasonable explan
ation for them missing. Let’s hope he just took the kids out somewhere and they got stuck somewhere. He might have just forgotten the phone.”

  “Maybe. We should still get back to New York as soon as possible,” Larry said. “We need to figure out why she believes this Trevor Cook dude is behind her husband’s murder. I got the sense she had good reason to believe that. At this point, that would be better use of our time than trying to find out why there isn’t a death certificate available for Pete Dalton by snooping around Oklahoma.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. I’ve had enough of this damn car. I’m getting us on the next plane back home.” She found her phone and punched a number.

  “Good idea.”

  * * *

  Chapter 34

  It was almost seven thirty when Kate found the note in her bedroom that same night. The bright yellow Post-it note was on the nightstand next to her bed, stuck to the metallic lamp base there. She stared at the three words written on it:

  “Revenge is sweet.”

  That was it, yet those three little words had the power to make her blood curdle.

  “Joanna! Mom!” she called out. Joanna as well as her mom now were with her tonight.

  Footfalls sounded in the hallway outside the bedroom, and a few seconds later Joanna and her mom entered the bedroom.

  “What is it?” her mom said, coming up behind Kate where she stood frozen in the middle of the room, still staring at the note in her hands. Joanna came up on Kate’s other side.

  “I found this here,” Kate mumbled and held out the note so the other women could read it.

  “Revenge is sweet?” Joanna said after she had eyed it. “Where did you find that note?”

  Kate pointed at the nightstand. “It was stuck to the lamp.”

  “Do you recognize the handwriting?” her mom asked, her voice tense.

  “Yes. It looks like Trevor’s handwriting. Oh, my God...” Handing the note to her mom, she brought her hands to her mouth and began to breathe heavily into them. Despite that it was late and Trevor and the kids were still missing, a spark of hope had formed in Kate’s chest; maybe there was another, less crazy explanation to why they were gone after all. An explanation that was a lot more innocent than Trevor having kidnapped her kids. He wasn’t really behind Diego’s murder. Maybe he had just taken them somewhere, and something had happened to them that made them unable to come back home or contact her to let her know what was going on. Not that it was a scenario she particularly wanted to imagine either, but it was far better than one involving Trevor stealing her kids. The main reason she as well as Joanna and her mom, not to mention the cops she had spoken to at the station, had begun to think that maybe there was another explanation was because Trevor’s cell phone had been on the living room floor. Why would he leave his cell phone behind if he had planned to kidnap her kids? It made no sense to any of them.