Mike could barely think. He had been up all night and was completely unprepared for this new development. “Don’t we need a search warrant first?”
“Probable cause,” Addison said tersely.
Roche turned to look at Beck. “Get the bolt cutter from the truck, willya?”
Beck nodded before making his way up the stairs. The three of them just stood there. Nobody said anything further until the firefighter came racing back down the stairs carrying the bolt cutter. Positioning the oversized wrench onto the padlock’s shackle, Beck sheared off the lock with surprising ease. Roche stepped forward and pulled the bolt back before opening the door. The rusty hinges gave a shrill squealing noise as the metal door was opened. Addison and Mike leaned forward and shined their flashlights into the hidden interior the moment the gap was made. Addison stifled a scream as she took a few steps backwards after seeing what lay inside.
The secret room measured around six by eight feet, the standard size of a prison cell. There was a plastic pail near the side of the chamber, and a small ventilator shaft with an iron grill was embedded in the ceiling. Lying in the center of this forsaken place was a greenish-black skeleton that seemed to be wearing tattered lingerie. A blackened puddle around the bones glistened from the beams of their flashlights. The remains lay on its side, from its head sprouted long dark hair that splayed out along the bare concrete flooring.
A few hours later the fire trucks were gone, only to be replaced by parked vans driven in by crime scene investigators. Addison walked back out into the burnt living room and proceeded to her car. This was the second time she walked away from the basement level that day, and she had managed to park her car right in front of the house. Opening the car door, she sat down on the driver’s seat and leaned back on the chair, trying to breathe air that wasn’t stained with the stench of death. Even though she could still smell the burned out remains of the house, it was better than having to endure the scent of that poor thing in the basement. Her feet were wet and cold. She was tempted to take her shoes off, but the professional side to her shrugged off the discomfort.
Her smartphone started ringing since she was back in cell coverage after emerging from the underground. She held it to her ear and answered, “Detective Draper.”
The voice belonged to her superior, Captain Ed Scowcroft, head of Stafford County’s CID. “Addy, how are things going over there?”
“We’re good, captain,” Addison said. “The forensic anthropologist you sent over is here, and the rest of the team are taking photos of the whole place. He wants to move the remains to the mortuary once we’ve documented everything.”
“Did you guys identify the body? Is it the DeVoe girl that was missing?”
“We don’t know at this point,” Addison said. “According to Dr. Mitre, the body has decomposed so badly, all we can work with is the bones. Based on the pelvis, it seems to be a female adult. The wisdom teeth have erupted, but still in the early growth stage, so he thinks it’s a girl from between the ages of eighteen to twenty-five. Cause of death is still undetermined.”
“The DeVoe girl was abducted age eleven about eleven years ago, so that coincides with the age of the deceased. Did the anthropologist determine when she died?”
“The body already went through putrefaction, so the doc thinks it’s been months if not a year since her death,” Addison said. “We don’t know for sure at this point.”
A short sigh was heard on the other line. “Goddamn it. Okay, see what you can do to identify it.”
“According to Dr. Mitre, all we can focus on is the dental or the DNA matching,” Addison said. “If it’s the DeVoe girl, then I’ll need to meet with the parents to get a sample from them.”
“I know Brenda DeVoe,” Captain Scowcroft said. “My wife and I bought a house from her a long time ago. She’s a lovely lady, but she’s an emotional wreck right now. You might want to get the DNA sample from her husband instead, he seems to have handled the long term stress better.”
“I’ll do that, Ed.”
“What about the house?”
“It looks like there was a meth lab in the basement,” Addison said. “Shake and bake operation. That explains all the empty soda bottles and the used blister packs for cold meds that we found in the substructure.”
“I don’t think we ever got any intel that it was a meth lab before, right?”
“Nope,” Addison said. “It looks to me like it was just used for making the drugs, and then they transported it somewhere else for distribution. There was no dealing from the house. That’s probably why we never knew about it.”
“Did you find out who the previous owner is yet?”
“Not yet. I figured you wanted the forensics team on the body first,” Addison said.
“We need to move fast,” Captain Scowcroft said. “Leave Mike with the forensics team. I need you to find out who the owner is.”
“Okay,” Addison said. “I’ll head over to the mortgage company right now.”
“I know I’m asking for a lot, Addy, but we aren’t budgeted to bring in a crime analyst, so you’ll have to do the legwork on your own for now.”
“That’s okay,” Addison said as she faced the windshield and closed the car door. “I know we’re not a big department.”
There was a slight pause before he spoke again. “You know Tom Breen, right?”
“The detective who used to handle the DeVoe case? Yeah, I met him a few times when I was a rookie.”
“Well, he told me that if there ever was a break in the case and we needed some help, he wouldn’t mind working with us as a volunteer assistant,” Captain Scowcroft said. “Would you be okay with that?”
Addison shrugged, even though she knew the captain wouldn’t see it. “Sure, the more people we got on this case the merrier. I need all the help I can get.”
“Okay, I’ll let him know about this new development and tell him to meet you at the mortgage company. Talk to you later, bye.”
Just as Addison turned the phone off and started the ignition, Mike Arnold came running out from the burned structure and waved his arms at her. She lowered the side window and tried to pop her head out, but she only managed to show her forehead. “What’s up, Mike?”
Mike gestured back to the house with his thumb. “You better take a look at this.”
Addison got out of the car and walked back down into the basement with him. The crowded sublevel had nearly a dozen forensic specialists going through the entire room, dusting the walls and trash for fingerprints, bagging evidence and taking pictures with their flashing cameras. Addison stepped gingerly, making sure that she did not disturb any of the marked areas as she walked over to where the once hidden inner room was. Dr. Paul Mitre was there in his all-white coveralls and hairnet as he knelt by the remains of the unknown woman.
Dr. Mitre looked up at Addison. He wore thick glasses with a special penlight attached to its frame. “Hey detective, I thought you might want to look at this,” he said, pointing at the skeletal hands of the deceased.
Addison looked closer. It seemed that in death, this unknown young woman had been clutching at something with her right hand. When Dr. Mitre shined his flashlight closer to the object, she saw a single earring shaped like a cartoonish cat’s face, its rhinestone eyes reflecting with a bluish twinkle.
Seven
“Good morning, Sherptons Mill Animal Shelter. Cherry speaking, how may I help you?”
“Hi, Cherry, it’s me, Brenda.”
“Hi, Brenda, how are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” she said softly. “Is it okay if I don’t drop by the shelter today? I-I’m just not feeling up to it yet.”
“Of course, dear,” Cherry Wilson said calmly. “Take as much time as you need.”
“Thanks, Cherry. I just need some time and I promise I’ll come back and do more work.”
“Don’t worry about it, Brenda. We’ll always be here for you. Would you like me to come over later?”
“Oh no, that’s okay. I know how busy you are with George.”
“Yes, but if you need me I’ll always have time for you. You know that.”
Brenda bit her lip. “I do, and thanks for asking, but really, I’m okay … I just need some time alone.”
“Like I said, take your time, hon.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll call you again soon.”
“I’m counting on it, Brenda. You have a wonderful day now.”
“You too, Cherry. Bye for now.”
“Bye bye.”
Brenda DeVoe placed the phone back in its cradle. She had thought about going to the grocery store, but she was afraid that she might run into a reporter who would end up asking about her missing daughter, so she decided to make do with what she had in the pantry for now. Detective Draper had assured her that the media wasn’t notified when they took the cat earring in for analysis, but she figured it was better to be safe than sorry. The last thing she ever wanted to see again was a camera being stuck in her face, and a man with a microphone asking for any comments to his pointed questions. Brenda didn’t want to relive the nightmare of those first few months, for she had a feeling that if it did happen again, she wouldn't be able to cope with it.
It had been almost a week since the earring was found, and Brenda’s incessant calls to Detective Draper’s desk for any updates must have surely irritated the ones working on the case, and her calls got directed to a voicemail recording. In the end the fingerprint results were inconclusive, and there was no further reason for her to keep calling. The earring seemed to be just a cruel coincidence, and Brenda was still shaken by the experience.
There were times when she felt an uncontrollable urge to grieve, and she would lock herself in the bathroom, sit down on the toilet, and cry softly. This happened quite a few times when she was working at the shelter, but the painful recurrence had slowly subsided to the point where it happened no more than twice a month now. That was until the discovery of the earring on the injured cat’s collar. The moment she opened her eyes this morning, the sudden compulsion to cry was there, and she ended up enduring it. Her pillow was soaked in the end, and she had to change the sheets, but it was better than taking tranquilizers again. Now that the pain had passed, she was able to function normally for the rest of the day; all she had to do was to avoid any triggers that would send her over the edge once more.
With the courtesy call to Cherry out of the way, Brenda walked out of the front door to see if there was any work that needed to be done at the outside. She remembered the times when Samantha was around six or seven, and they would chase each other all around the backyard. There was one time when Sam hid under a pile of leaves, and the little girl stood up and threw her arms out, showering a completely surprised Brenda with countless red and yellow leaves, like a blizzard of large confetti. She grinned and wagged her finger at the little girl, telling her that hiding under leaves like that was dangerous, especially with people using tools to rake the piles, but deep inside she knew that Samantha was responsible enough to know about danger. She remembered talking to her daughter about talking to people that she didn’t know when Samantha was eight.
“There may be some bad people out there,” Brenda said “So if a stranger asks you to take a ride with him, don’t do it, okay?”
Samantha rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mom. We were taught that at school you know.”
Brenda’s lips trembled while walking towards the side of the house. Thinking about Samantha at a time like this wasn’t good for her, but she couldn’t help it. She always thought about Sam every day. Not knowing was the worst thing ever. The last interview they had on TV was broadcast on the one year anniversary of Sam’s disappearance, and Jeff was sitting with her teary-eyed, his once manly composure had finally started to break. When he said that they needed to know if their daughter was alive or dead, just so that there could be some sort of closure at least, Brenda looked at him and started crying. Jeff finally stood up and told the reporters to stop filming. After that, they stopped doing interviews altogether.
Walking over to a pile of old wooden planks across the side of the house, Brenda stopped and stared down at the ruin. It had been Jeff’s tool shed, where he would spend weekends just tinkering with stuff inside of it. Big enough to fit a car in, it had a workshop with every tool imaginable in it. Jeff had told both Brenda and Samantha that the shed was his personal man cave, and no one was allowed to go in there except for him. A year after he had moved out, the shed was mysteriously burned down in a fire. Brenda had woken up in the early morning when she smelled something smoldering, but by the time she made it downstairs, all that was left of the shed was a smoking pile of debris. She didn’t bother to call the fire department since the flames had already died down and there was no danger. She called up Jeff and told him about it and he said that he would get somebody to clean it up, but no one ever came by for it, so in the end she just left it untouched. Some vines had begun to grow over the mound of blackened wood, and she had thought about having it cleared away for many years now, but in the end she just didn’t mess with it, thinking that it served as a symbol of their lost relationship.
A part of her was still hoping that Jeff would somehow get back together with her once Samantha was returned safely, and they could all live happily ever after as a family once more, but she soon realized it was just a pipe dream. She still felt some affection for her ex-husband, and she remembered the time they spent alone as a newlywed couple at Jeff’s property in the Shenandoah Valley. A two story lodge with over ten acres of secluded woods, it had once been owned by Jeff’s parents, who willed it to him after their death. They spent their honeymoon in that place, and Jeff swore he would never sell it afterwards. Samantha was born less than a year after, and Brenda liked to think that her daughter was conceived when they made passionate love while staying at that magical place by the side of the mountain. How perfect their lives would have been if only Samantha hadn’t disappeared.
The sound of a car going down the driveway startled her. Was it the media? Did they get a whiff about the earring? Brenda ran over to the side door, entering the house from the back of the kitchen. She needed to see from her usual vantage point as to who it was. If it was those pesky reporters again, she would call the sheriff’s office, while keeping all the doors locked tight until they leave. But as she walked through the kitchen, she realized that she had left the front door wide open.
She tried to close the door before the car got to the front but it was too late. Brenda’s eyes narrowed when she saw Addison Draper and her ex husband get out of the vehicle. Walking out to the porch, she could sense something had happened. “Jeff? Detective? What are you two doing here?”
Jeff walked up to her. His face was unreadable, and she knew he always gave that poker look when he was about to tell her something serious. Her ex-husband gestured towards the open doorway. “I think it’s better if we talk inside, Brenda.”
Her chin began trembling. “I-is it about S-Sam? Did something happen?”
Addison stood beside Jeff. “I think we should talk inside.”
Brenda hurriedly ushered them into the living room. She stared into the detective’s eyes as Jeff closed the front door behind him. “What happened?”
“I’ll start from the beginning,” Addison said calmly. “Some kids burned down a vacant house last night. When the firefighters put it out, they found a hidden room in the basement. Inside this room was a deceased individual. Our forensics think it’s female, and a young adult.”
Brenda started to shake, a current of wanton, bitter despair coursing through her entire body. “Oh my god! I-it’s Sam, isn’t it?”
Jeff held his hands up in a gesture of calm as he edged closer to her. “They don’t know yet. I gave out a DNA sample and they’re testing it. Let’s think positively for now, okay?”
Brenda’s mind was lucid while undergoing great stress. A jumble of thoughts was coursing through her brain, but she could barely ke
ep up with it. Past and present collided with her worst fears. For a short while, nothing seemed to make sense anymore until her senses waded through the confusing morass of questions to see clearly through the dilemma. She looked at the detective. “But … but there must be plenty of missing people around, right? Why … why did you ask Jeff for a DNA sample?”
Addison bit her lip. She hated this part of the job most of all. “We found something in its hand.”
Brenda blinked rapidly to stop the tears from falling, but it was no use. She didn’t want to ask , but she needed to know. “Wh-what?”
“It was a cat earring,” Addison said softly. “It looked identical to the one you found on that injured animal’s collar at the shelter.”
Brenda wailed. Her knees buckled but Jeff was able to hold onto her just in time before she could fall. She placed her head on his shoulders and sobbed. No. It couldn’t be Samantha, it just couldn’t! She tried to push herself away from him, but he held onto her. Her cries soon turned to screams, despite their efforts in trying to get her to calm down. That was when her mind went blank and she was beyond reason. The last think she remembered was kicking and flailing around before collapsing on the floor as her ex-husband tried to catch her.
The hospital room gleamed with a sterile whiteness, like chemical ivory and cream. Addison hated being inside of one, for she had a deathly fear of needles ever since she was a child. Its antiseptic smell reminded her of the meth lab in the basement of the burned house she was investigating, and she hated it even more. Looking to where the bed was, she saw that Brenda was still asleep, her arms strapped down along the side handles. They had brought her over when it was clear that she had a mental breakdown, and the doctors recommended had an overnight stay.
Jeff rubbed at the slight bruises along his arms as he walked into the room. “Thanks for the ride, detective.”
Addison nodded at him. “No problem. Are you okay?”
Jeff gave her a shrug. “It’s no big deal. So what happens now?”
The Girl in the Darkness Page 6
