by Roger Hayden
Detective Slater suddenly entered the room, flustered and carrying some files. “Thanks for leaving me stranded at the paint store for the past hour.”
Knight turned from the screen. “We're sorry, okay? We got caught up.” He then pointed at Daniels. “What do you think? This could be our guy.”
Slater glanced at their motionless suspect, unimpressed. “Looks like a real loser to me.” He then placed the files on the desk. “Here are the Evans Brothers employment records.”
Agent Garrett thanked him. “I'm sure it will be very useful.”
The captain barely acknowledged him as he turned to Garrett. “Does this man fit your profile?”
She studied Daniels on the monitor and responded. “By his age and appearance, yes. But I do have my doubts.” She then looked at Knight. “I'm sorry.”
Knight held up the evidence bag. “We found an identical sock. I say that sums it up.”
Garrett said, “DNA inside the sock will tell us something.”
“Too bad he doesn't drive a Cadillac,” Slater added. “That would really seal the deal.”
“I've got a plan,” Knight said, shifting toward the nearby room. “Agent Garrett, if you would accompany me, I'd like to study his body language up close.”
“He looks catatonic,” Marshall said with his arms crossed.
Knight pulled the folded letter from his pocket. “He won't be when I show him this.” He walked away without elaborating as Garrett followed. He opened the door to the interview room and turned around and gave a thumbs up to the captain. He and Garrett then entered the room, shutting the door behind them.
Daniels slowly raised his head to look up at him. “Where's my lawyer?”
Knight stared him down as he pulled a chair out and sat. “We'd like to ask you some questions first.”
Daniels slammed the table with cuffed hands. “I told you I didn't kidnap those kids! You've got nothing.”
Knight casually placed his evidence on the table like a card dealer. “Can you tell me which sock belongs to you, Mr. Daniels?” He paused and glanced back at Agent Garrett standing behind them. “Can you tell them apart, Agent Garrett?”
“They look about the same to me,” she said, leaning on the back of an empty chair.
The tinted bubble in the ceiling was capturing everything as they continued. Knight reached into his coat pocket and pulled out yet another bag, this time with an envelope inside. He opened the bag and pulled out the letter, unfolding it on the table. “Do you know anything about this letter, Chet?” Knight watched for signs of nervousness, fidgeting, or recognition on his face.
Daniels stared down at the letter, unblinking. “What's that?”
Garrett leaned closer.
“It was left on my door today. Know anything about that?”
Daniels read the message and smiled with what looked like relief. “Never seen that in my life, sorry. I didn't even know who you were until today.”
Knight leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Is that so?” He glanced at Garrett, hoping that she could fill him in. “What do you think?”
Garrett pushed her chair closer to the table and spoke to Daniels directly. “Mr. Daniels, can you tell us where you were on the night of June eleventh?”
Daniels thought to himself and answered. “I was home drinking and listening to music.”
“Was anyone else there with you?” she asked.
“Nah,” he said. “I was home alone. Passed out until morning.”
“That's a hell of an alibi,” Knight added.
“It's the truth!” he shouted.
Knight stood up, his temper rising. “Bullshit, Daniels. Tell us where the girls are before we have you locked up through the next century.”
Garrett then spoke to Daniels with an opposing calm. “You seem awfully confused about a lot of things. Let me clear the air.” She began pacing the room, walking behind Daniels. “You are suspected of kidnapping two missing girls. Sarah Riley was last seen not far from her house one week ago. Brittany Owens was kidnapped from her room in the middle of the night yesterday. The cases have been all over the news. I'm sure you've heard of them.”
Daniels stared ahead, and for the first time, looking frightened. “Yes... I heard of them. But that's it.”
Knight cut in. “The girls' homes were both serviced by Evans Brothers Painting, the place where you work. Both their parents singled you out as an uncomfortable presence, a real creep.”
Daniels tilted his head back, laughing. “Wait until my lawyer gets a load of this.”
Agent Garrett walked past the table, holding their strongest piece of evidence. “Who does this belong to, Mr. Daniels?”
Daniels's eyes shifted to the sock. He then clasped his cuffed hands to his chin and sighed. “My daughter left some clothes after her last visit. I may not be the best father, but I ain't no kidnapper.”
Knight narrowed his eyes, studying Daniels. Their suspect seemed to have an answer for everything, but it still didn't add up. There were too many coincidences, too many things had led them to Chet Daniels, far too many signs and clues. “What can you tell us about a red 1980s Cadillac?” he asked.
Daniels shook his head. “What Cadillac?”
“Come on, Chet. Several witnesses corroborated a Cadillac circling the neighborhood on the night Brittany Owens was kidnapped,” Knight said. “What's wrong, your pick-up truck wouldn't do the job?”
Daniels looked away, more alert now than he had been, becoming aware of the danger he was in. Knight's cell phone vibrated in his pocket. For a moment, he ignored it until he felt two more vibrations, indicating text messages. Knight reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone just as Garrett began asking Daniels about his job. Knight’s phone showed three messages from Bonnie urging him to call her back. Another letter, said the text, taped right to our door.
Knight nearly jumped out of his chair but tried to compose himself. It was hard to make sense of it. He was in a room with the man he believed responsible for the kidnappings, but somehow another anonymous letter had been delivered. He began to piece together the possibilities when it all began to make sense. Yes, of course, he thought. The letters have nothing to do with the kidnappings. It’s someone else. Someone messing with me, harassing and trying to scare my family. He'd deal with it after the kidnapping case. His phone buzzed again with another message.
It's much stranger than the last letter, said the text.
Knight sighed and typed back, Tell me what is says.
After a moment, she responded. Call me, please.
Frustrated, he stood up, sliding the chair legs noisily across the tile floor, and excused himself from the room. “I'll be right back,” he said, and headed toward the door. Garrett and Daniels both watched closely as he half-limped to the exit. Outside the room, he saw Captain Marshall standing nearby with Slater. The captain looked over at him as if to ask what he was doing. Knight raised a finger and told him that he'd be right back. He then hurried down the hall with the phone ringing against his ear. Bonnie picked up on the second ring, a distraught tone in her voice.
“Bonnie, I'm in the middle of an interrogation right now.”
“I'm sorry, but it's important. I don't know what to do.” She sounded like she was moving through the room and out of breath.
“Calm down,” Knight said, stopping halfway down the hall. “Just tell me what happened. What does the letter say?”
“Oh, God...” she began. “They knocked. I heard a knock. I opened the door, and no one was there. They were gone, but the letter was there. I don't know who these cretins are, but I don't feel safe.”
“Honey, please just tell me what the letter says.”
“Okay,” she said, sniffling. “I kept everything locked just like you said. Holly isn't here right now, and I'm scared out of my wits.”
“The letter!” Knight said, increasingly frustrated.
“I'm sorry. Okay. Are you ready? I'm going to read it now.”
/>
“Go ahead.”
She took a deep breath and began. “Charley, you've wasted so much time, and now I've got another one. Her name is Jenny. Third one’s a charm, signed X.”
Knight froze against the wall, phone gripped in his hand. It was impossible. It had to be an elaborate hoax. “Can you take a picture and send it to me?” he said, struggling with his words. Why would someone take the risk of sending such brief, meaningless messages? If they were playing a game with him, what was he supposed to do with no information, no demands? “I'll be home soon, I promise,” he told her. “Put the letter down. Stop handling it. Call me if you’re scared.” He paused and waited for a response. “Still there?”
“Yes,” she said. “I was distracted, sorry. Just get home soon, okay?”
“I will. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
He hung up and lowered his phone, realizing his shirt was damp with sweat. Before he reentered the interview room, he knew he needed to get it together. He walked back toward the room and waved Slater over. For a moment, he didn't care about Chet Daniels or any of it. He only wanted to find out who had delivered the letter. Slater left Captain Marshall by the viewing monitor, seeing that Knight was clearly distressed.
“What's going on?” he asked.
Knight glanced both ways down the hall and spoke quietly. “I'm not sure. I need your help.”
Slater pivoted back. “Sure. You found something else?”
“Some letters...” Knight began as he shook his head. “Bonnie just called me and said that someone left another one on our door.”
Slater jerked his head back. “Wait! Today?”
“Just now,” Knight said. He scratched the bottom of his chin, fear rising.
Slater held both hands out helplessly and asked, “Well... what did it say?”
“She's sending me a picture of it,” Knight said. “They even knocked on my door this time.”
“Whoa!” Slater said. “Did she see anyone?”
“Not a soul...”
“How is that possible?” Slater asked. “Are we dealing with a ghost here?”
Knight's phone suddenly vibrated in his hand. He immediately checked the screen and saw a new message from Bonnie. “The letter...” The picture appeared, and he saw that the letter was identical to the other one in its small lettering and typed font. This time, as Bonnie had told him, the mysterious person mentioned a name. He examined the picture and then held it up for Slater to see.
“Who’s doing this?” Slater said, his eyes still on the screen.
“I don't know,” Knight said, “but it needs to stop.”
“I've got another one?” Slater said, reading the message. “Her name is Jenny...” He paused and looked up at Knight. “This is serious.”
Knight lowered the phone, in deep thought. “Daniels already denied the first letter. I don't know how it would have been possible for him to deliver this too.”
“You said so yourself, that he was vegging on his couch in a haze of pot smoke when you got there.”
Knight glanced down the hall and saw that Captain Marshall was watching them. “We need to follow up on this name,” he said quietly to Slater. “See what it means.”
“Wish they could have been a little more specific,” Slater said. “Given a last name at least.”
Knight felt helpless with the weight of the case pressing down on him. What he had believed to be a malicious prank was beginning to seem related to the very case he was working. He walked past Slater and hurried back to the interview room. Slater followed, asking him what they were going to do. Knight stopped at the door, aware that the captain was still watching them.
“First, I want to get a DNA sample from Daniels. Get that out of the way. Then get these letters analyzed at the lab.” He paused and leaned closer to Slater. “Look into this Jenny name. Get on the scanner and see if anything comes up.”
Slater nodded and then turned away just as Marshall approached.
“What is it, you two?” he asked them. “Clearly you're up to something.”
“Nothing, sir,” Knight quickly said. “We were just discussing how to proceed.”
Marshall put both hands on his hips, looking from one detective to the other. “I'm all ears.”
“We need to get a DNA sample from Daniels,” Knight told him.
“I'd say that matching sock alone puts him on the chopping block,” the captain said.
“Yes, but he's denying everything, even with his nonexistent alibi,” Knight said.
The captain glanced at the monitor desk and then looked back. “Our FBI superstar appears to be getting something out of him as we speak.”
“What do you mean?” Knight asked.
“She's got him writing a statement,” Marshall said with a satisfied grin.
Knight reached for the door and opened it without another word. He stormed inside the room, slamming the door behind him, and saw Daniels writing on a notepad with Agent Garrett standing over him.
“What the hell is going on here?” he asked, stepping toward them.
Daniels looked up, startled, but Garrett maintained her calm, collected demeanor.
“I'm having Mr. Daniels put it down in writing,” she began.
Knight leaned on the table, hands inches from the scribbled notepad. “What's the point if it's all bullshit?”
“Regardless, it's his statement,” Agent Garrett said. She then leaned against the back of Daniels’s chair and spoke closely. “Of course, he understands the consequences of perjury, and lying to the FBI at that.”
Daniels stopped for a moment, hesitant to go on. Knight asked him if everything was okay. Sensing the newfound attention, Daniels continued writing. Knight leaned closer to get a better look at the words. The handwriting was sloppy but descriptive. Daniels began the statement by claiming that he was “baked” on the night in question and never left the house.
He described the articles of clothing left behind by his young daughter during her last visit, including the yellow sock. He also stated that he ran because he thought Detective Knight and Agent Garrett were some people he owed money to. As Knight watched him nearly fill up the page, a hard knock came against the door. He turned around just as the door opened, revealing Slater in what appeared to be in a state of panic.
“We're a little busy now,” Knight said.
“Can I talk to you outside?” Slater asked.
It then suddenly hit Knight, knowing what his partner could be so worked up about. Knight excused himself once again and left the room in a hurry. Outside the room, a quiet eeriness filled the air. Captain Marshall was no longer at the monitor. Other than Slater, there wasn't anyone around.
“What is it?” Knight asked. “Did you find something on the name?”
“Just heard it over the radio,” Slater said, catching his breath. “AMBER alert is forthcoming. Jenny Martin. Young girl who was just reported missing by her mother. And this is where it gets crazy...” He paused as though he couldn't get the words out fast enough. “Witness reports that they last saw her being pulled into a red Cadillac.”
The weight of it hit him. He should have turned in the first letter right away. If he had, maybe it would have led them somewhere. There was going to be hell to pay.
Knight backed against the wall with a tightness in his chest that almost brought him to his knees. It was impossible. Someone was playing a game with him. The letters. The distractions. Evans Brothers Painting. It felt connected and not at all connected at the same time. Slater stared at him as though waiting for word on what to do next. But Knight didn't have the answers, though his mind raced in search of them.
9
Secret Alibi
Chet Daniels remained seated, with his head down, in the interrogation room. His hands rested on the table near a half empty coffee cup. Agent Garrett stood across the table, talking to him. In another room, Detectives Knight and Slater watched them on the monitor screen and listened close
ly. Garrett promised him leniency for his full cooperation. She asked him repeatedly where the girls were, but Daniels only denied his involvement. His written statement scribbled on a notepad was in front of him, incomplete. Both Knight and Slater had questions of their own but decided to stay back. News of another missing girl had left them stunned and grasping for answers. With a suspect in custody, how was that possible?
Knight's initial shock gave way to feelings of paranoia. Was someone within the department watching him? How did the mysterious letter writer know where he lived and managed to deliver his letters without being seen? And how did he manage to kidnap these children with such confident ease? He glanced at Slater, whose tired eyes were on the screen.
Captain Marshall had returned to his office after getting a call from the police chief. It would only be a matter of time before Knight and Slater faced another chewing-out session. Three girls missing within two weeks. It didn't bode well for the department. Knight looked around the bay of cubicles, watching nearby office personnel busy at their desks.
“The search for the red Cadillac continues,” Slater said.
“Yeah...” Knight said, distracted.
Frustrated, Slater ran his hands through his hair. “How hard can one car be to find? And if Daniels isn't our guy, why'd he run?” They were questions with no immediate answer, but he knew people often ran, even the innocent, for all kinds of reasons.
Knight turned away from the screen, got up, and started walking toward the interview room. “He knows more than he's saying.” He turned the door handle and walked in, with Slater following.
Garrett looked up as they entered, and the look on their troubled faces told her something else was wrong. “Everything okay?”
Knight approached the table, leaning against the back of a chair. “We're fine.” He then glared at Daniels, whose eyes were fixed on the table. “Mr. Daniels, do you have any idea why you're here?”
Daniels parted the long, stringy hair covering his face. “Where's my damn lawyer?”
“I know that Agent Garrett has been very patient with you,” Knight continued, moving closer, hands on the table. “It's time to come clean. Your name and description were given to us by parents of both the two missing girls.” He studied Daniels's blank face for a reaction. Whatever he thought of the accusations, he hid behind a face of indifference. Knight released his grip on the chair and stepped back as Garrett and Slater quietly watched. “So far we've found a ladder and a yellow sock at your home. I'm sure we'll find more.”
