by Alexa Grace
Lane Hansen shouted, "Just got a call from Frankie. The girls are five minutes away!" Scooping up his four-year-old daughter, Ashley, he put her on his shoulders and moved toward the house.
With eight-month-old Mylee strapped to his chest in her baby carrier, Blake Stone grasped his son Shawn's hand and did the same. They were followed closely by Michael Brandt and his twins, Melissa and Michael, Jr. The group gathered in the outdoor living area until the birthday girl's arrival.
Soon they heard the van coming down the driveway and stopping in front of the house. The vehicle's doors opened, and there was a lot of giggling and chatting as the women got out.
"Carly, let's sit in the outdoor living space," suggested Frankie Hansen, who was eight months pregnant and had a big baby bump stretching the front of her yellow sundress to prove it.
"Great idea," said Carly. "That's my favorite part of the house."
Walking to the side of the house, Jennifer, Frankie, and Megan slowed to see Carly's reaction. Finally, she looked up and noticed the balloons, streamers, and banner.
"Oh, my God. I don't believe it!" Carly was clearly astonished, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "This is the best surprise ever. I don't think I've had a birthday party since grade school."
"You haven't!" her brother, Blake, chimed in as the entire group of men applauded.
"Thank you so much, everyone. I don't know whether to laugh or cry!" Carly said as she did both.
Brody rushed across the lawn, threw his arms around her, and kissed her soundly. "Happy birthday, baby."
"Did you arrange all this?" Carly asked.
"Nope. Gabe was a big help."
While the other women greeted their husbands and children, Brody held Carly out at arm's length and scanned her body from head to toe. "Wow, if that is a new dress, I like it."
Carly pulled out the full skirt of her vintage rose printed strapless dress and curtsied. "Frankie urged me to buy it. She said she was tired of seeing me in my usual conservative suits with buttoned-up white blouses."
"Remind me to thank Frankie later." Brody kissed her again and picked up her shopping bags. "Victoria's Secret? My favorite ex-federal agent shopped at Victoria's Secret? Sweet! Do I get a fashion show later? I'm getting turned on just thinking about it."
"Down, boy. We've got guests and a birthday to celebrate, but I'm sure I can arrange something for you later."
<><><>
At the dinner table, Carly stood and tapped her wine glass with her fork. "I just want to thank all of you for what is my best birthday ever."
To Gabe, she said, "Brody tells me how hard you worked to arrange all this. I can't thank you enough."
Blushing, Gabe smiled as he laid a huge platter of barbequed ribs on the table and gave Carly a birthday hug. "My pleasure. Happy birthday."
"And to the rest of you, let's eat this incredible food and enjoy being with each other."
The caterer appeared with all of Carly's favorite foods: potato salad, slaw, fresh corn on the cob, green bean casserole, and homemade yeast rolls.
At the children's table, Shawn, the Brandt twins, Michael Jr. and Melissa, along with Ashley Hansen, waited patiently for their parents to fill their plates. Nearby in her high chair next to Shawn, Mylee munched on crackers until Jennifer had a chance to get her baby food.
At the grown-up table, Gabe sat down next to Abby, just in time to see her stroke Blake's bicep.
"Do you work out, Blake? Your biceps are amazing," Abby cooed.
Blake shifted uncomfortably in his seat and continued eating, saying nothing until he saw the small white card with a phone number written on it that Abby placed on his thigh.
Blake leaned close to Abby and in a low whisper said, "See that beautiful woman over there feeding the baby? That's my wife and I love her more than life itself. I don't need or want your phone number." He slipped the card under her plate.
Abby just smiled, flipped her hair, and continued eating.
Gabe reddened with embarrassment and anger. He couldn't get Abby home soon enough. Breaking up with someone was something Gabe always dreaded, although in Abby's case, he would make an exception.
Noting the exchange, Carly said to Megan, "I hear you may have an exciting announcement."
Megan smiled. "The large space we added to the back of the house is a reading and playroom for the kids and turned out beautifully. Tim put the finishing touches on the playground equipment yesterday. Megan's Child Care is open for business."
"She already has customers," said Frankie. "Michael Jr., Melissa, Shawn and Mylee Stone, as well as our Ashley, now have a fun place to go when their parents are working. The kids love spending time with Megan, as well as with each other. I've had a couple of days when Ashley has told me she wasn't ready to go home. She was having too much fun."
Michael turned to Brody. "I hate to bring up shoptalk, but have you heard anything new regarding the Jim Ryder trial? I'm hearing rumors that his defense attorney is asking for a change of venue."
"To where? Mars?" Brody shook his head in disbelief. "That's about the only place where the case hasn't been discussed. Jacob Lohman is the prosecuting attorney. I talked to him the other day about how the media might impact his case."
"Brody's right," Carly said. "All the news networks have broadcasted about Ryder's crimes, including HLN and CNN."
<><><>
Evan rushed into his brother's room at what their pretentious mother referred to as the "Mansion of Morel." The twins detested living at the so-called mansion with their mother and father. But the flow of money from their father into their pockets was dependent on his control of them. One of his conditions was that they live at home until they went to college. As seniors in high school, that meant another year of misery.
Devan, hunched over his computer, was so engrossed with what he was doing, he didn't even hear Evan enter the room.
"Earth to Devan, what are you doing?"
Shooting him a glare, he snapped, "What have I told you about knocking?"
"Whatever. If you were doing something you're not supposed to be doing, you would have locked the door."
"Shut the door,” Devan said, and then looked back at his laptop display. "I'm identifying our first target on Facebook. Have a look."
"She's definitely hard-on worthy. What's not to like about a blonde with those kind of assets? Who is she?"
"She's a Purdue student. Check out her photo albums. They look like a Playboy spread. Here she's on her bed, lying on her stomach, wearing only a white lacy thong. In this one, she's coming out of the pool in the tiniest bikini I've ever seen. There are dozens like these. The bitch is asking for it."
"Were you able to get her name and address?"
"Yes, her name is Abby Reece. Later tonight we'll stake out her apartment in West Lafayette to get an idea of her schedule. When the time is right, she'll be all ours."
<><><>
The drive to Abby's apartment was forty-five minutes. Tonight, it seemed to Gabe as if it were forty-five hours. Abby sullenly peered out the passenger door window. They hadn't said a word to each other since entering his truck. Finally, Gabe turned into the alleyway that led to the small parking area in the back of Abby's apartment building.
As soon as he stopped the vehicle, he turned to Abby. "We have to talk."
"Sounds serious. You should know by now, I don't do serious." She gazed out the passenger door window.
"You're going to have to make an exception tonight, Abby."
Twisting in her seat to face him, her eyes were blazing. "So let's hear it, Gabe. What's so important?"
"This relationship is not working for me."
"Who said we have a relationship? That's something I'm allergic to, and I let you know that early on. I don't want to be tied down to one guy. I like men. I like sex, and I want as many sexual adventures as I can arrange."
"I've changed, Abby. I want to be in a solid relationship with a woman who wants only me. I'm looking for someone who
is my best friend and my lover, a woman who isn't afraid to make a lifetime commitment."
Abby glared at him. "Sounds like your goal is the stereotypical picket fence, two kids and a puppy. That's the last thing I want. So I guess what we're saying is that we're over."
"Yes, Abby. I'm sorry," Gabe said solemnly.
Abby grabbed her purse and got out of the truck, slamming the door behind her. By the time she rounded the front of the vehicle, Gabe was out of the truck and standing in front of her. "You can go straight to hell, Gabe Chase. I was getting tired of you anyway," she shouted.
"Abby, calm down. I don't want it to end like this." He lightly touched her arm.
"Don't touch me. In fact, don't contact me in any way. I never want to see or hear from you again. You're dead to me." She marched across the gravel parking lot, entered the back of her apartment building, and disappeared.
Gabe got back in his vehicle and waited for the light to come on in her upstairs apartment. When it did, he fired up his truck and headed home, thinking about how much he hated break-ups. He vowed not to get involved again unless he found someone he cared for enough to create a long-term relationship.
<><><>
Outside Abby's apartment building from the shadows, Devan and Evan headed back to their white van to review what they'd just witnessed.
"Interesting. It seems our Abby no longer has a boyfriend."
"Evan, is that all you noticed?" asked Devan coldly.
"Why? What did you see?"
"Abby's now ex-boyfriend is Gabriel Chase, the youngest brother of Sheriff Brody Chase. Saw an article about him in the newspaper. Our game just got that much more interesting."
"How do you figure that?"
"There is nothing that means more to Sheriff Chase than his brothers, and we're going to stir up a world of trouble for his youngest."
"I'm not sure I get it." Evan frowned.
"The ex-boyfriend or ex-husband is the first person cops consider when a woman goes missing or is murdered. So when we snatch Abby Reece, the first one they'll suspect for her disappearance is Mr. Gabriel Chase."
<><><>
September began with a solid week of rain and thunderstorms, and temperatures dipped into the mid-fifties. So much rain caused flooding near the Wabash River, and homes nearby had to be evacuated. There was a chill in the air, but it wasn't cold enough to make the leaves turn to autumn shades of yellow, gold and red.
In a small conference room at the Sheriff's Office, Gabe and Cameron busily organized the physical evidence to prepare for the Jim Ryder trial. Gabe itemized the computer forensics and prepared to testify. It was his first time to testify at a trial, and he wanted his testimony to be effective. He was as determined as his brothers to do all he could to make sure Jim Ryder was found guilty for the nightmare he'd created in Shawnee County. Ryder's victims and families weighed heavily on his mind.
Brody appeared, leaned against the door frame, and watched them work. Gabe noticed him first. His usually expressive face was downright somber.
"Brody, what's wrong?" Gabe asked.
"I was just notified that Jacob Lohman won't be prosecuting the Ryder case. He had a heart attack last night and he might need surgery."
"Heart attack? He's only in his forties." Cameron let out a disbelieving groan, stunned at the news.
Gabe said, "I'm sorry to hear that, but if he can't prosecute Jim Ryder, then who will?"
"He's appointed Michael Brandt as a special prosecutor to handle Ryder's case."
Cameron nodded. "Brandt is an excellent prosecuting attorney, so Jacob appointed the right guy for the case. If anyone is going to nail Ryder, it's him."
"I think so, too," said Brody. "I just talked to him about temporarily relocating closer to the courthouse. There's an empty office on the second floor he can use until the trial ends. Brandt's moving in before the end of the week. In addition, he's setting up a meeting with both of you to go through the evidence we've collected. He'll get with Carly to discuss Ryder's profile."
"Excellent." Gabe labeled an evidence bag and put it in a box. "We'll give him any help he needs to prosecute the bastard. There's no way Ryder can go free after all the damage he's done."
Brody asked Cameron, "Are we sure that Alison Brown is still willing to testify?"
"Yes. In fact, I talked to her yesterday. She wants to do it, not only for what he did to her, but for killing his last victim, Jasmine, the young girl from West Lafayette. Alison and Jasmine were held captive together in Ryder's basement and became close. Alison was there when Ryder beat Jasmine. She was also there when Jasmine died."
"You mean second-to-last, right? Didn't Ryder shoot his sister the day after he killed Jasmine?" Gabe noted.
"Right. I wonder what happened to make him kill Erin. I mean without her, would he have been able to do all the things he did?" Cameron said. "Remember the surveillance we saw of Alison at the bus station? Alison is a smart girl. There is no way she would have left with Ryder, if he'd been the one to meet her instead of Erin."
"Why isn't Erin Ryder added to the seven counts of murder Brandt will prosecute Ryder for?" Gabe wondered aloud.
"We've got the bullet casing that matches his handgun, but no witness or anything else. It was just the two of them in that basement when it happened. Jacob didn't think he had enough to prove Ryder was the killer," said Brody before he headed back to his office.
Cameron leaned toward Gabe, propping his elbows on the conference table. "How much sympathy could any prosecutor get from a jury for someone like Erin Ryder? She was just as evil as her brother."
<><><>
A week later, Gabe spotted a rare parking space in front of the Sheriff's Office and maneuvered his truck to park. It was weeks before the trial would begin, yet media vans, campers, and tents dotted a small tract of land near the Sheriff's Office, a couple of blocks from the Shawnee County Courthouse in the downtown square.
A crowd of reporters peppered him with questions as he headed toward the front door.
"Who are you?"
"Are you working on the Jim Ryder murder case?"
"What can you tell us about Jim Ryder? Did you know him?"
"Do you think his conviction is a slam dunk?"
"No comment," Gabe responded as he pushed forward, turning his head away from the cameras when he could.
Gabe knew Brody scheduled a press conference for the afternoon and he didn't envy him. Brody could only predict so many of the questions he'd be asked. Inevitably, he'd be asked how he could not have known one of his deputies was a serial killer.
Deputy Gail Sawyer greeted him at the door. "Well, if it isn't my favorite private investigator."
"Hi, Gail. Is Cam in his office?"
"No, he was on his way to work when he responded to a call for backup about thirty minutes ago. Deputy Arnold stopped a truck near Veedersburg for an expired license plate. He noticed the two men inside were acting squirrelly, really nervous, and wouldn't make eye contact. Coincidentally, the deputy had a K-9 with him, who alerted to presence of drugs in the vehicle."
"No kidding?"
"Wish I was." Gail paused to open the door for a dispatcher arriving for work, and then continued, "The deputy waited for Detective Chase to arrive, and then put the suspects in the squad car before they searched the truck. In the back seat was a bottle of muriatic acid and camp fuel."
"Two ingredients used to make meth," Gabe interrupted.
"Right."
"No wonder they were nervous when they got stopped."
"Oh, there's more. Inside a backpack, they found coffee filters, drain opener, ice packs, a plastic hose, and funnel, along with two syringes that had trace amounts of methamphetamine."
"Mobile meth lab," Gabe stated with disgust. He had no understanding why anyone would put meth in their bodies. It was a self-inflicted death sentence. "What about the two men?"
"The driver admitted to owning the backpack and knowing what was inside. The other guy had a sma
ll baggie in his back pocket with trace amounts of meth in it. My kind of bust. I guess the K-9 nearly ripped off the back pocket of his jeans before the deputy could stop him and put him back in his car."
