Atrocity

by C. M. Sutter

  I added my opinion. “I saw Mark’s truck, and it didn’t have a cab over the bed. I wouldn’t fill the back of a pickup with my belongings without some way of protecting things from being stolen. They’d be packing fishing poles and tackle boxes, wouldn’t they? That doesn’t even include clothes and food for a week. They had to stop to eat and pee once in a while. I’m sure the mileage on the truck would vary a lot depending on the engine size, how many gas tanks it has, and whether it’s a stick or automatic.”

  “You’re probably right about all of that, but let’s check both, anyway. I’d say they’re pretty similar with mileage with the truck possibly getting a little less,” Ebert said.

  Kate checked her phone again. “Okay, a full tank of gas should take the Jeep about two hundred sixty miles, and a full tank on the typical two-wheel-drive Ford F-150 pickup should go about two hundred fifteen miles before it’s empty. That’s all relative, of course, by the person’s driving habits. We’ll subtract thirty-nine miles off of each total and use Columbus as our starting point. That gives us two hundred twenty miles with the Jeep and one hundred seventy-five miles with the truck. We’ll go north, west, and south for both distances on a map and see where that takes us.”

  I heard the back door open and close. I looked that way, and Clayton was coming in. With our newfound hope that Kate’s suggestion would give us something useful, I had forgotten that Chad had walked outside to call Jack. “Anything from Mr. Philips?”

  “A tidbit of information but not enough to give us a location. I guess that’s why Jack didn’t call back.”

  “What did Mr. Philips tell him?” Kate asked.

  “Only that Brian often talked about the town Ed Gein was from.”

  “Meaning they must have passed through Plainfield whenever they went to that cabin. What is it they say, psycho minds think alike? So that tells us they headed north, which is a huge help and narrows things down quite a bit. There are plenty of lakes and touristy towns north of there. I think we should take the rest of these pictures and the few clues we have and head back to the sheriff’s office to discuss this with Jack. What do you guys think?”

  “I agree,” Kate said.

  “We’ll get back to our patrol duties and let you guys figure out this mystery,” Ebert said. With a nod from Clayton and Billings, we gathered what we needed, wrapped the house with crime scene tape, and left.

  Chapter 19

  Jack craned his neck and looked out beyond the wall of glass then pushed back his chair and exited the office. He took a seat next to Clayton’s desk. “What have we got?”

  Clayton handed Jack the pictures we had brought back with us.

  Jack studied the photographs. “So one was from Mark’s house and the other from Brian’s?”

  “That’s a fact, boss,” Clayton said.

  Jack turned to me. “Then that validates the story about the cabin that the coworker from Bradford Tool and Die told you.”

  “It appears so, and the beer receipt dated last May was from Columbus. According to the information Mr. Philips told you earlier, Brian spoke of Ed Gein’s hometown—Plainfield. A short jog from Columbus to Portage would land you on Interstate 39, and if you headed north, you’d drive right through Plainfield. The interstate eventually turns into State Highway 51. From what we learned from the coworker, Brian described the area he and Mark went to as well-known for outdoor activities, plus it was touristy enough to justify high gas prices. Using that information, along with Brian’s complaint of the vehicle being empty by the time they arrived at the cabin, we’re looking at the Tomahawk, Minocqua, and Boulder Junction areas. Those locations are year-round hot spots for outdoor activities like fishing, camping, and hunting. They’re touristy towns with plenty of campgrounds, cottages, and cabins for rent.” I looked at my colleagues for confirmation, and they nodded. “Our group consensus is that one of those towns along Highway 51 is near the cabin they rent.”

  “But how did you figure out the distance to use as a perimeter?”

  I tipped my head toward Kate. “She came up with it by assuming the men filled up the gas tank on either the pickup or the Jeep before they headed out. By calculating the average distance those vehicles could go on a tank of gas, we came up with a general distance.”

  “Brilliant idea, everyone, and excellent job piecing it together, but our work is far from done. Without anything solid to go on, it’s just our gut instincts leading us in that direction. We need to dig in and find cabins for rent that are along lakes in that area. I’m sure there are plenty of them. Look for cabins that are available year-round, not just during the touristy summer season. If that same cabin is where they go during the hunting season, it has to be open through November for sure.” Jack stood and headed for the coffee station but noticed the pot was empty. “Let’s search online and make some calls. We’ll quit at six o’clock and see where we’re at. Horbeck and Jamison can continue the efforts once they get here.”

  We hunkered down at our desks after Kate made a twelve-cupper. The coffee would keep us alert for the next hour of internet searches and phone inquiries.

  I groaned after seeing the number of campgrounds and cabin rentals in that fifty-mile distance between Tomahawk and Boulder Junction, and those would help only if we were actually on the right track. Without any other leads, we had to start somewhere. Trish had been kidnapped for more than twenty-four hours.

  I rubbed my eyes and yawned. “Aren’t there relatives in Brian and Mark’s family who would tell us something?”

  Jack spoke up. “I’ve already gone that route. Stan Philips figured Brian was overly enraged when Trish moved out because he was estranged from his own family. The guy was a loner and an abuser. The only family member he was close to was Mark, and they were as thick as thieves. Mark didn’t have a relationship to speak of with his immediate family either. People tend to shy away from his type. Crazy attracts crazy, but normal people prefer to keep their distance.”

  Kate tapped her pencil on the sheet of paper in front of her. “So asking the relatives about the cabin was a bust?”

  “Not only was it a bust, but none of them wanted to talk about Brian or Mark at all. Honestly, the family members I spoke with didn’t seem surprised that I called, but they didn’t have any helpful information to offer either.”

  “Terrific.” I took a sip of coffee and continued my online search.

  Jack crossed the room to fill his cup. “Remember, don’t waste your time on cabin resorts that aren’t on lakes.”

  The phone on Jack’s desk rang as he returned to his office. I gave Kate a raised brow. It was nearly six o’clock, and most calls after five were transferred to the bull pen. With my ears perked, I listened to Jack’s side of the conversation through the half-opened door.

  “What have you got, Bob?”

  From Jack’s greeting, I knew the person on the other end of the line was Bob Kennedy, one of our desk deputies.

  “Go ahead and patch her through. Yes, hello, Mrs. Philips. Uh-huh, and what time did that call come in? Is there any way you can play it for me? Sure, that’ll be fine, and I’ll give you the direct number for my office. Okay, I’ll be waiting for your callback.”

  I heard the sound of the receiver being placed on the base. I watched Jack’s office door in hopes that he would come out and explain the call. Seconds later, the door swung open, and Jack stepped out.

  “That was Nancy Philips. I’m sure all of you heard my side of the call.” Jack smiled and continued. “She said a blocked call came in about ten minutes ago to her cell phone. She let it go to voice mail just in case it was Brian. She wanted his message on tape.”

  “Smart woman, and it was him?” I asked.

  Jack nodded. “Yep, and it sounds like he called just to taunt her. According to her, he said Trish was alive but not happy, they were staying in a secluded area, and the daughter they knew as Trish would never come back to them. She’s calling in a few minutes from her house phone and will play hi
s voice mail recording through the phone line so we can hear it.”

  “That sounds like a riddle. Why would he say ‘the daughter they knew as Trish would never come back to them’ instead of just saying Trish would never come back to them?”

  Kate smirked. “It’s because the guy is nuts and likes to sound that way to frighten the family even more.”

  Jack raked his fingers through his hair. “I need all of you to listen in on the voice mail recording, and I want everyone’s interpretation of his message. The more we can figure out about that maniac, the sooner we’ll find Trish.” Jack’s phone rang again, and he waved us into his office. “Put your thinking caps on, people. It’s time to track down Brian Cox.”

  We crowded into Jack’s office. Kate and I sat on the only two guests chairs, and the guys took a spot against the wall. Jack answered on the third ring. He nodded at us, indicating that it was Nancy Philips.

  “Hello again, Nancy. My team is in my office with me, and I’m going to put you on Speakerphone. The more people listening to the voice mail, the better. One might notice something the rest of us didn’t. Are you ready to go?”

  Nancy’s voice came over the speaker. She sounded distraught. “I’m ready, Lieutenant Steele. Just tell me when, and I’ll hit Play.”

  “Go ahead, then. We’re listening.”

  That was the first time I had heard Brian’s low-pitched, angry voice. His sentences were short, stilted, and to the point. I listened closely to the part where Brian said the daughter they knew as Trish would never come back to them. My brow furrowed, and the hair stood up on my arms. Brian had a sadistic voice, yet he seemed pleased with his message. There was obviously a dark secret he kept close to the vest, but we had no idea how to decipher it. He was well aware of that and enjoyed playing the game.

  I looked around the room—everyone was taking notes. The message wasn’t long, two minutes at most, but within that time, he’d instilled fear in Mrs. Philips, and I was sure that was his intention. Voices in the background caught my ear. It sounded like a television playing and was likely used as a noise buffer to drown out Trish—if she was able to speak—and keep passersby from hearing his conversations. I tuned out Brian’s rant and listened to the background sounds. I was sure several commercials played before he ended the call. I scratched out a note to Jack and turned it to face him.

  He nodded as he read it. “Mrs. Philips, is there any way you can get us a copy of that voice mail? We’ll need to reference it often, and writing down the words won’t help. We’d like to get our tech department involved, and they’ll need the actual recording to either enhance it or take it apart bit by bit.”

  She sighed. “I’m far from tech savvy, but I could bring in my phone and they could make a voice copy of it.”

  “That would be great, and can you do that today?”

  “I’d do anything for my daughter. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  Jack ended the call. “I’m open to opinions.”

  Kate spoke up. “He’s a loose cannon, and I can hear the hate in his voice. He’s a dangerous man.”

  “He also sounds arrogant and has a chip on his shoulder. Life may have handed him lemons in his opinion, but instead of making lemonade, he let them rot,” Billings said.

  “I think he sounds like a chauvinistic pig,” Clayton said. “From what we already know, he’s abusive, demoralizes Trish, and feels threatened by her close-knit family. He may have been the type that tried to alienate her from them. That way the abuse and his overbearing nature could have gone unnoticed.”

  Jack looked at me. “Amber, you haven’t said what you thought yet.”

  “I’m interested in the sounds behind him. I’m pretty sure I heard television commercials playing in the background. If Tech could enhance the words and make them a bit louder, we might hear something that’s only aired locally. That could narrow our search area even more.”

  “It’s definitely worth a shot.” Jack checked the time. “Find anything yet on lakeside cabins for rent?”

  I sighed. “At least seventy-five that are online, but half of those only have email contact forms, not phone numbers. It’s doubtful that a management company or an owner actually lives in the area. These days, everything is done over the internet without any personal contact at all. Prepay online and you’re good to go. They email you a key code to access the property, and that’s all it takes.”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “And we know that all too well from the Warren Ricks case. Go ahead and get out of here. Jamison and Horbeck can work on the cabin search. I’ll update them on our progress, or lack of, too. I have to wait here for Mrs. Philips, anyway.”

  We said good night to Jack and headed out. The sun was dropping in the sky, but we still had a good hour of daylight left. At that moment, sitting on the deck and kicking up my feet with a cold beer in my hand sounded like perfection.

  Chapter 20

  Brian walked the path from the water’s edge to the porch and carried his fishing pole, tackle box, and a bucket filled with a mix of yellow perch, crappie, and bluegill. The time he was spending at his favorite cabin was nothing like it ought to be. Mark should be there as usual, but instead Brian had to deal with Trish, the wife who thought she was in charge.

  Brian would show her who was calling the shots. Going forward, she’d follow his orders to a T without one word of back talk. Brian was the man of the house, and Trish was his servant. She’d learn that soon enough.

  He set the pail on the plank floor and dug the key out of his front pocket. Fish sloshed around and hit the sides of the plastic bucket in their futile attempt to remain alive. They’d all be dead in fifteen minutes and sizzling in the frying pan as that night’s meal.

  Brian pushed open the door with his foot and set the fishing pole against the wall. He crossed the living room to the second bedroom and spun the dial on the combination lock then lifted it off the latch. The door creaked open, and he looked in. Trish was still asleep. Hours earlier, he’d forced three sleeping pills down her throat with a mouthful of vodka. She was tied to the bed frame, secured by her wrists and bare feet. Taking her shoes and socks and locking them in the car was the best way to prevent an escape—just in case. With all the sharp pine needles blanketing the ground around the cabin, she wouldn’t get much farther than the front door before he’d pull her back in. Trish wore a strip of duct tape over her mouth to keep her quiet. Brian tugged on the ropes. She wasn’t going anywhere. He left the room and returned seconds later with a pine needle. He stood at her right foot and gave it a hard scrape to see if she was faking sleep. She didn’t move.

  With the door once again locked, he returned to the porch, grabbed the bucket of flopping fish, and walked to the cleaning station. Night was falling, and filleting the fish with only a sixty-watt bulb overhead was a sure way to cut his fingers. He was hungry and wanted to eat the fresh catch. He’d make that update call after his belly was full.

  An hour had passed, and Brian had eaten all but two fillets. He’d save them for Trish to eat when she woke up. He stepped out to the porch and took a seat on one of the Adirondack chairs then pulled the slip of paper out of his shirt pocket and dialed the number. The person on the other end picked up on the second ring.

  “Hello.”

  Brian spoke just above a whisper. “When should I expect you?”

  “Is everything in place?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’ll be there tomorrow late in the day.”

  “That sounds perfect. See you then.” Brian clicked off the call and went inside. He locked the door behind him. It was time to wake Trish.

  Chapter 21

  Kate and I arrived home at seven thirty. The TV played in the living room and Jade stood against the kitchen sink filling the bird seed dishes. A glass of iced tea sat on the side table next to the recliner.

  Jade tipped her head toward the TV. “Pause that for a second while I feed the critters. I’ll be right back.” Seconds later, she
returned to the living room and took her seat. “You two are putting in more hours than I am lately. Anything new on the Cox abduction case?”

  Kate plopped down on the couch next to Spaz while I fished two beers from the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. I returned to the living room and tipped my head toward the patio doors. “Come on. We’re sitting on the deck for a bit. I need a half hour of real relaxation before dark. We’ll give you the latest updates outside.”

  “Sure, I’m game. I can watch the news later.”

  Jade turned off the TV, and Kate grabbed Spaz and carried him to his outdoor pen. We sat on the deck and faced the woods behind our condo. That part of our property was my favorite area for reflection. When I was lucky, I’d see a deer or two meandering through the woods—and in winter, that was only while I was looking through the patio doors. During the summer months, the tree cover was far too thick.

  “So, what’s the latest?” Jade sat between us and directed her questions at me then Kate.

  I sucked in a long breath and let it out slowly.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “No, we just aren’t making the progress I had hoped for. I was sure we were going to catch Brian yesterday, but he slipped away. We spent far too long searching for the Jeep while he sneaked off to parts unknown in Mark’s Lumina.”

  Kate spoke up. “We think he’s somewhere in the Tomahawk to Minocqua area.” Her eyes lit up as if something came to mind. “Hey, why don’t we call the sheriff’s office in those counties and have them search the lake cabins?”

  Jade chuckled. “And why don’t I have a pet unicorn?”

  I jumped in on the teasing. “Kate, why don’t you press your temples, hum a psychic sound, and come up with his location?”

  Jade went on. “All kidding aside, life isn’t that easy, hon. Do you guys have any evidence that he’s in that area, or is it just a gut feeling?”