For now.
If needed, Dak could hit him hard when the right time came.
“Actually, we’re following up on a new lead. An employee of yours with a kid in Spokane. Maybe we could talk to your foreman or floor supervisor.”
“I make it a point to know all my employees.” Mays sat up straighter, his chest puffed out. “What’s his name?”
“We don’t have a name. The guy was seen talking to one of our victims a few days before she was abducted. He’s white, mid to late-twenties, and wears a hat with a woman’s silhouette. He has a young daughter who lives with her mom in Spokane.”
Mays thought for a second. “It could be Seth Wilkerson. I don’t know about any kid, but he wears a hat like that.”
“We need to talk to him.”
For a second, Mays looked like he’d argue, but he rose from his desk with all the grace of a walrus on dry ground and gestured for them to follow him.
He led them further down the hall and into a large breakroom. “You can wait here. I’ll get him.”
“We’d rather go with you to collect him.” Dak spoke for the first time since they’d arrived.
Mays immediately shook his head. “No unauthorized personnel allowed on the floor. Sanitation and safety reasons, you understand.”
Hmmm. Sanitation and safety? Or was Mays hiding something?
His gut said the latter, although he had no idea what there was to hide at a fish processing plant.
Still, they didn’t have a warrant, so they couldn’t force the issue. He nodded. “Of course.”
Mays left him and JD in the breakroom, where an old ivory fridge hummed in one corner and two vending machines glowed in the other.
“Might as well sit down.” Dak led the way to a table on the opposite side of the room and took a chair facing the door. JD pulled out the chair beside him.
Seven minutes ticked by before he heard footsteps in the hallway.
Finally. Not like they were trying to stop a killer or anything.
Mays stepped into the room, a scrawny man with hunched shoulders shuffling behind him. Toothpick arms poked out of a blue shirt and saggy jeans bunched on top of dirty work boots. A frayed black hat with a buxom silhouette in white topped a drawn face with light colored stubble lining his chin.
Mays gestured the man in, then addressed JD and Dak. “I’ll be in my office if you need anything else.”
His tone clearly said they shouldn’t need anything else.
Dak almost hoped they did, just so they could try to catch him off guard.
The man pulled out a chair across from them and looked at them, his clear hazel eyes surprisingly direct.
“Seth Wilkerson?” Dak asked.
The man nodded.
“I’m Agent Lakes, this is Agent Dominguez. We’d like to talk to you about a conversation you had with a little girl out by the parking lot two weeks ago.”
A hint of recognition lit his eyes. “Yeah. I remember her. She reminded me of my little Sammie.”
Dak latched onto the name. Time to build rapport. “Sammie is your daughter?”
“Yeah. Her mom moved her clear across the state. I can’t make it over to see her like I should, but it don’t mean I don’t love her.” Wilkerson dipped his head.
“I’m sure that’s hard.” Dak paused. “Is that why you talked to Ava Esterson?”
Wilkerson swallowed hard. “Yeah. That lady with her make some kinda complaint? I didn’t mean no harm.”
“Ava Esterson was kidnapped ten days ago. You were one of the last people outside of her family to speak with her.”
Wilkerson’s eyes widened. “She’s missin’?”
“Yes.” Dak examined the man in front of him. There was no way this guy possessed the mental cunning required to pull off a series of kidnappings.
Still, he might’ve seen something.
“What did you talk to her about?” JD leaned his elbows on the table.
Wilkerson rolled his shoulders. “Nothin’ much. I asked her if she liked suckers. I’m tryin’ to quit smokin’ so I carry suckers with me.”
“Anything else?” Dak kept his tone mild.
“Asked her if she was there to see her daddy. I was guessin’. Mean, why else would a little kid be down here, ‘cept to see her daddy, right?” Wilkerson stopped, his eyes narrowing on Dak. “Am I a suspect or somethin’?”
Not likely, but he wouldn’t admit that. “We’re talking to everyone who saw her before she disappeared.”
Wilkerson leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Did you see anyone else talk to her?” Dak maintained a light and friendly tone.
Wilkerson stared at him for a second. “Nah. But the old lady probably wouldn’t have let her talk to no one anyhow. After she snapped at me, I walked away.”
“What about anyone paying extra attention to her? Staring or following them or anything?” JD asked.
“Nope. Not that I noticed.” Wilkerson shrugged. “Don’t mean there wasn’t someone. That lady wanted me to beat it, so I beat it. I ain’t no creep.”
Time to ask the question that would probably shut the conversation down. “Now I have to ask, where were you around three p.m. a week ago Friday?”
“Here.” Wilkerson swept his hand around them. “I ain’t missed a day in over a year. I’m here eleven a.m. to seven-thirty p.m. every day.”
Well, that’d be easy enough to verify. “Sorry, I have to ask.”
Wilkerson nodded. “Well, I didn’t have nothin’ to do with it.”
“We appreciate you speaking with us.” Dak rose, indicating that the interview was over, and slid his card across the table. “If you think of anything else, please let me know. That little girl’s life might depend on it.”
Wilkerson stuffed the card in his pocket and shuffled out of the room.
Dak looked at JD. “Let’s stop by Mays’ office on our way out. He was a little too eager to get rid of us.”
“I noticed.” JD grinned. “Felt like an invitation to annoy, if you ask me.”
“I also want to ask about the night crew. Maybe arrange to talk to them to see if anyone might have noticed anything the night the body was dumped.”
It was a long shot, but even long shots sometimes paid off.
Mays turned from his computer screen as they entered his office, although Dak had the feeling Mays had been watching for them.
“I’m sure Wilkerson was able to answer all your questions.”
It came out more of a statement than a question, but Dak nodded regardless. “He did. Thanks. We’d like to speak with your night crew. See if anyone saw anything suspicious.”
Mays stiffened. “We are doing our best to be cooperative, but you must see how incredibly disruptive that would be to our operations. Our night crew is small to begin with. To have them taken from their duties to answer questions would significantly slow production.”
Dak narrowed his eyes. “Two women have died. Three more lives are at stake.”
Mays had the decency to flush. “Well, yes. I get that. But I still have a business to run. I believe I’ll call my lawyer.”
“That’s your right.” Dak pushed up from the chair. “We’ll come back with a warrant. But if I’m going to the trouble of getting a warrant, know that when we return it will not be for a quick visit. We’ll spend hours here, questioning every employee, checking every minute of your security footage from that night–”
“Wait.” Mays sighed loudly. “I can give you five minutes at the beginning of the shift to address the group. If anyone saw anything, you can take them aside and talk to them individually, deal?”
Gee, now was that so hard? Dak nodded. “That works for us.”
“Graveyard shift starts at eight pm. Be here by five ‘til or the deal’s off.”
No matter how much Dak wanted to throw the weight of the federal government at the smug businessman, he simply nodded. “We’ll be here.”
“Fine. I’ll let
my night supervisor know to expect you. Now, if I’ve answered all your questions, I have work to do.”
He and JD left the building in silence, neither speaking until they reached the car.
“He sure didn’t seem excited about us talking to the night crew.” JD buckled the passenger side seatbelt.
“The big question is if it really has to do with workload or if he has something to hide.”
₪ ₪ ₪
Amazing the difference being in her own house, taking a shower, and changing her clothes could make.
Kevyn spread a thin layer of chunky peanut butter across toast and took a bite.
She felt almost normal again. As long as she didn’t think about Saturday.
A glance at the clock showed she had under an hour before she needed to meet with the FBI’s psychologist to be cleared for duty. While she wasn’t looking forward to that, it was a necessary evil given what she’d been through.
Who knew? Maybe it would help.
She finished her toast and cleaned up, then headed for work.
By the time she finished her psych eval and was cleared, it was almost noon.
Well, she still had half the day.
She headed down to her floor.
Felicia intercepted her and guided her into the conference room. “Are you okay?”
“Physically? Yes.” So many emotions clouded her mind it was hard to respond. Part of her didn’t want to, but another part longed for someone to know. Especially since she’d told the psychologist very little of it, wanting only to be cleared for duty. “Mentally, absolutely. Emotionally…”
“Can I hug you?” Felicia didn’t wait for an answer before pulling her into a fierce hug. “I don’t care. I’m a hugger. Deal with it.”
A laugh bubbled up inside Kevyn and spilled out.
It felt good to laugh. She hadn’t laughed since sometime before all this started Saturday night.
“I’m sure this is tough.” Felicia released her and dropped into a chair.
Pulling out a chair of her own, Kevyn nodded. “I think I’m more frustrated than anything. I had to have seen this bloke and I can’t remember a thing!”
Felicia flipped through the file folders strewn across the table and slid one to her. “Maybe this will help. We got the sketch from the chef.”
A rollercoaster took up residence in her stomach as she looked at the innocuous file folder.
It wasn’t going to attack her. It was an image. Nothing more.
A shiver rolled across her shoulders as she reached her suddenly frozen fingers to flip the folder open.
Details registered in quick snapshots.
A hooded man.
Shadowed eyes.
Grecian nose.
Square, clean-shaven jaw.
The tension inside of her deflated, as did her hopes.
The picture was simply that, a picture. No memories, no emotions tied to it at all. The guy could be the man who attacked her or it could be an ad for a black hoodie for all the feeling it provoked inside her.
“Anything?” Felicia’s voice cut through her thoughts.
She flipped the file folder closed. “No.”
How could it not spark some memory? She was a trained FBI agent, for crying out loud! It was her job, her duty, to remember every little detail about criminals, their appearance, and their MO.
Felicia must have sensed her frustration. A soft hand rested on her shoulder. “The mind is a funny thing, you know. Give it time. It may come.”
Or it may not. No one was telling her what her training said was the most likely scenario.
Between the drug and the trauma, it was highly likely that the memory would never return, that her brain would block it out permanently.
She shoved the folder away. Time to be brought back up to speed. “What else have you guys uncovered?”
Felicia recapped the morning. “Sid’s at Nobles now, questioning one of the guys you identified.”
“It’s not any of them.” It almost hurt to admit that. Kevyn nodded at the folder containing the sketch. “None of the people I worked with looked like that.”
In fact, she didn’t remember running into anyone who looked like that, but clearly she had.
Then again, the sketch was little more than a nose, chin, and black hood.
She pulled the file toward her and looked at the sketch again. There was something nagging at her, but she couldn’t place what it was.
Or maybe she wanted so desperately to see something that she was making connections that didn’t exist.
“Where are Dak and JD?”
Felicia glanced at the clock. “Knowing them, probably picking up lunch. They went to see Mays this morning, then were going to check in with the coroner to see if there were any updates. I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”
“What can I do?”
“I’m currently digging into Trane’s company. Want to take Mays and the fish plant?”
Kevyn nodded. “Divide and conquer.”
They needed this to turn up a lead. Maybe it was residual fear from her weekend ordeal, but she couldn’t help feeling that time was running out.
₪ ₪ ₪
Ebony stole down the hallway. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, although she didn’t know why.
She was allowed to talk to Wendy. Encouraged to, even.
Maybe it was the topic that had her pulse doing the mamba.
Really, she had nothing to be afraid of. She wasn’t defying Jax. Just the opposite, in fact. She was supporting Jax’s stance.
Oliver glanced over as she came in-line with his space, then turned away without a word. The volume on the small television set in his room went up, blaring some cheesy dialogue from the Jax-approved comedy he was watching.
Just as well. Honestly, she wouldn’t miss him if Jax decided he was unworthy.
Wendy looked up from a book as Ebony stopped outside her space. “Hi Ebony.”
“Hey.” Ebony smiled.
Wendy had been so friendly the last few days. It was almost like having a real sister. Maybe even a friend.
Approaching the heavy bars, Wendy’s gaze scrutinized her. “The bruises are healing. How do you feel?”
“Fine.” Should she tell Wendy about the baby? She really wanted to. She’d never been pregnant before, at least not as far as she knew.
If she had been, the abuse she’d suffered prior to being rescued by Jax had stolen the life from within her.
The pregnancy test Jax had picked up yesterday had confirmed her suspicions.
Now that she was pregnant, now that she wasn’t only caring for herself, but for the life inside her, she had no clue what to do. Maybe Wendy would know.
Ebony gnawed her lip. She wanted to let Wendy out, wanted to sit down in the living room where it was so much more comfortable.
“C-can I trust you?” She whispered the question so Oliver wouldn’t hear.
Wendy arched an eyebrow and tilted her head. “Sure. I mean, I think so. I try not to hurt people.”
Jax had said never to let them out if he wasn’t home to help her. He’d told her that their brothers and sisters might hurt her, might try to overpower her and leave, and might send the police to lock her up because of her past.
The key in her pocket felt heavy enough to drag her to the floor.
What should she do?
She couldn’t go to prison. Especially not now, when she was carrying Jax’s child.
No, she couldn’t risk it. Wendy had to stay inside her space, for both her and the baby’s protection.
But she could still tell Wendy about the baby. Certainly that would be okay.
She moved closer to the bars, careful to stay out of Wendy’s reach. Clasping her hands in front of her stomach, she rocked on her heels.
Wendy watched her. “Why do you stay here?”
The question dragged her thoughts away from the baby. “Why wouldn’t I stay?”
“You’re a prisoner. And Jax isn’
t exactly kind to you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Jax is kind. He saved me.”
“You keep saying that. Saved you from what?”
Ebony caught her lip between her teeth and worked it until she was sure she’d drawn blood. All the while, Wendy watched her. Waited for her to answer.
Maybe she should. That’d show Wendy what a great man Jax was.
“The brothel.” There. She’d said it. “Jax found me there and snuck me out.”
Wendy’s fingers flew to her slightly parted lips and she turned away.
“I’d been there for almost five years.” Memories battered her mind, images of repeat customers, men who’d abused her in ways she’d never vocalize. “Five years of hell you can’t imagine. Jax saved me.”
Wendy pulled in a heavy breath and turned back to face her. Moisture lingered in the other woman’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t… that must have been so horrible.”
Ebony replied with a tight nod. “I don’t know what Jax was doing there that night, but he treated me like a human being. He asked about my background. Then he set a fire in the bedroom and snuck me out in the confusion. At great risk. If they’d caught us, they would have killed him. Maybe me, too.”
“The men who had you before. You’re not afraid they’ll come after you?”
“No. Jax has us hidden well.” She looked at their surroundings. Honestly, she didn’t even know where they were, but she could tell from the design that it wasn’t a normal house. “Besides, they’ve probably already replaced me with three other girls exactly like me. We mean nothing to them.”
“I’m glad you don’t have to live that life anymore.” Wendy paused, tilting her head slightly to the side. “But I wish you were free to really live life. You know, make your own decisions, go where you want, do what you want. That kind of thing.”
She wanted to argue, but there was some truth in Wendy’s words. True freedom, the kind Wendy talked about, was a foreign concept. “I’m freer than I’ve been since I was taken at fifteen.”
“Fift…” Wendy’s mouth hung open for a second. “How did you end up there when you were so young?”
“I was tricked. A guy on the Internet promised me a better life, but instead I got that.” Chills shot through her body and she rubbed her arms. “I’m not sure I could have survived much longer.”
Nameless (Sinister Secrets Book 1) Page 19
