"You’re a genius, Iris! I know just the man who can help."
Chapter Thirty-Five
Nessa arrived back at the station with a pounding headache, the last hour spent shivering by the river, fielding phone calls, and interviewing potential witnesses who had all asked more questions about the scene than they could answer. She’d finally decided she needed a break to grab a cup of coffee and call Jerry. Best to tell him now that she wouldn’t be home for dinner. She also wanted to check in with Alma.
Hopefully the DNA results are in, because I have a bad feeling we’re running out of time.
Alma was in the WBPD crime lab, standing in front of a shiny machine that looked to Nessa like a bulky desktop printer.
“That your new toy, Alma?”
Alma turned and motioned for Nessa to join her.
“Yep, this is it. This little beauty can produce a DNA profile in about ninety minutes. Then once we have the profile, we can run it through the state and national databases.”
She walked over to her computer and tapped on the keyboard.
“Unfortunately getting results back from them can take a little more time.” She grinned back at Nessa. “Unless you have friends in high places.”
Looking over Alma’s shoulder, Nessa couldn’t make sense of the numbers and letters she was seeing, but the words, Partial Match Found, caught her attention.
“So, you got a match on the DNA from the hair at the Candace Newbury scene?”
“Well, no,” Alma said, her voice impatient, “the DNA from the hair on Candace’s dress hasn’t come back yet, but I did find-”
Before she could explain what she’d found, Andy Ford stuck his head in the door, a red flush suffusing the freckles on his face
“Sorry to interrupt you guys, but Leo Steele is here to see you, Nessa. I told him you were busy on a case, but he’s not taking no for an answer.”
Andy looked over his shoulder as if he expected Leo to be looming behind him.
“Don’t worry, Andy. You just stick him in an interrogation room and tell him I’ll be right out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As Andy disappeared down the hall, Nessa turned back to the screen, anxious to hear what Alma had uncovered.
“I submitted the results for the DNA found under Ruth Culvert’s fingernails. I haven’t gotten results back from the national database yet, but state database results just came back.” Alma produced a self-satisfied smile and winked at Nessa. “I have connections at the state lab you know.”
Nessa didn’t bother asking about Alma’s connections. She vaguely recalled that Alma had dated one of the state techs she’d met at a forensics conference, but right now she was more interested in the DNA results than Alma’s love life.
“The results are a little confusing though. You see, there is a partial match in the database, but it’s strange.”
“What do you mean by strange?” Nessa asked.
“Well, the DNA profile for the blood underneath Ruth’s fingernails is a partial match for a decades-old cold case double homicide up in Tallahassee.”
Nessa suddenly wished she’d stopped to get that cup of coffee first. Her brain didn’t seem to know how to process Alma’s words.
“Slow down a minute, Alma,” Nessa said. “Just what are you telling me?
“From what I see in the file, a couple named Sally and Kyle Young were killed in their home, and their young child vanished. The DNA profile is a partial match to Sally Young.”
Nessa was even more confused.
“So, the perp that killed Ruth may have killed this woman, too?”
Alma shook her head, her thick curls wobbling emphatically.
“No, the perp who killed Ruth is related to Sally Young. The profile indicates the perp is her biological child.”
Giving Nessa time for her words to sink in, Alma clicked on the Home menu and selected Print.
“I’m printing out all the information I have so far for you to take with you. And I've already requested a copy of the full file from the Tallahassee archives. It's on its way now I imagine."
The shock of Alma’s words, added to her already pounding headache, clouded Nessa’s brain. She tried to piece together the information in some kind of logical order.
"The child who went missing almost twenty years ago is the person who killed Candace?”
Alma shrugged, but her big brown eyes were almost as wide as Nessa’s baby blues.
"Well, the DNA profile found under Candace’s fingernails matches the child. That doesn’t necessarily prove murder.”
Staring down at the printout, deep in thought, Nessa wondered if the case could get any more complicated.
Two young women have been violently killed and their homicides linked to a decades-old double murder and kidnapping. What’ll happened next?
A knock on the doorframe brought her attention back into the room. Andy Ford looked in.
“Mr. Steele’s getting impatient,” Andy said, gulping down a nervous breath, “he says-”
Leo’s frustrated face appeared behind Andy, his voice drowning out the young officer’s words.
“Nessa, this can’t wait. I need to talk to you now.”
He stared at Nessa and Alma for a long beat, registering their dazed expressions, then plowed ahead.
“I think I know where you can find a fugitive from Florida’s most wanted list. She’s a person of interest in an open homicide from 2016 in Pensacola.”
Nessa regained her composure enough to hold up a hand.
“Sorry, Leo, but we’ve got enough homicides right here in Willow Bay to worry about. If you know something about a homicide in Pensacola then we’ll need to turn it over to the state. Let them and the local force up there handle it.”
Leo ran an impatient hand through his hair as he waited for her to finish. When she had, he spoke in a calmer tone.
“You may change your tune when you find out where the woman is living. You see, she’s staying at a commune not too far from where a girl’s body was found two days ago. The same commune where your old pal Pete Barker thinks his missing daughter may be staying.”
Nessa felt Leo’s words like a punch in the gut.
“Taylor’s at a commune outside Willow Bay? Is she okay?”
Dropping his eyes, Leo shrugged wearily.
“We don’t know for sure that Taylor’s there, but there’s good reason to think she might be.”
“And the woman at the commune? Why would you think she’s on the state’s most wanted list?”
Leo pulled out his camera and showed Nessa the picture Frankie had taken.
“You recognize anyone in that picture?”
Nessa gasped when she saw the back of the woman with long, dark hair. Lifting her finger to the camera, she touched the image gently.
Taylor, can that really be you after all this time?
Her eyes moved to the woman facing the camera. She tapped the image and looked up at Leo, frowning.
“This is the woman you think is wanted for murder?”
When Leo nodded, she looked back at the photo.
Am I looking at the face of a killer?
The woman didn’t look evil or insane. Other than her old-fashioned, homemade dress, she looked like an average woman.
Leo swiped to the next photo, displaying the black and white image in the wanted poster. There was no denying the resemblance.
Alma cleared her throat, reminding Nessa that she had an audience. Andy Ford was still standing in the hall, gaping in at the unfolding scene.
“We’re good here, Andy, thanks.” Nessa tried to arrange her mouth into a smile. “You can go on back up front.”
Once Andy was gone, Nessa turned to Alma and showed her the pictures on Leo’s phone. After studying the pictures closely, Alma leaned against her stool and folded her arms over her chest.
“Either it’s the same woman or they’re twins.”
Taking the phone back from Nessa, Leo tapped on the s
creen.
“I’ve emailed you both the photos. Now, what are we going to do about them?”
“We’ve got to go out to that commune right away,” Nessa said, already mapping out a plan of action in her head. “But I should at least try to get a warrant first, and that won’t be easy at this time of day.”
Leo looked at his watch.
“You’re probably right. Most of the judges in this town are probably home in front of a fire by now. None of them work past four o’clock anymore.”
“Then I’ll just have to call them at home. This can’t wait. Not if Taylor’s in danger.”
The image of Pete Barker’s sad face brought Nessa’s plans to a sudden standstill. She had to let him know she was hoping to get a warrant to search the commune, and that she’d look for Taylor once inside. But she wasn’t sure how he’d take the news that a suspected killer may be living at the compound, too.
“We can’t tell Barker about this woman until we know more,” she said, picking up her phone. “He’s worried enough as it is.”
First she’d make the call to Barker, then she’d need to update Jankowski.
And I can’t forget to call Jerry back and tell him not to bother waiting up.
With the plan she had in mind, it was going to be a very long night.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Barker kept his eyes on the big gate as he reached for his cell phone. He’d been parked outside the compound for the last thirty minutes hoping to catch someone coming in or out. If luck was on his side he might even see Taylor.
Or the girl that just looks a hell of a lot like Taylor.
Blocking the negative thoughts from his mind, he swiped to answer the incoming call.
“Barker, where are you?”
It was Nessa, and she sounded stressed.
“I’m staking out a commune off Highway 42. I think Taylor may be inside.” Barker kept his eyes glued to the gate. “It’s called the Congregation of Love, but for some reason they have a guy with a gun guarding the perimeter.”
“Please tell me you aren’t planning to do anything stupid, like trying to sneak in.”
Barker snorted and switched the phone to his other hand so that he could roll down the window. Even with the drop in temperature the car was getting stuffy.
“When have I ever done something stupid? I mean, other than allowing Taylor to run away and not looking for her for over a year.” Barker winced at the bitterness he heard in his voice.
Nessa has enough to deal with without me throwing myself a pity party.
“Look, Barker, Leo told me you think Taylor’s in that compound, and I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to check it out.”
Surprised at her words, Barker held out the phone to stare at it, as if Nessa might be using it to somehow play a trick on him.
“I appreciate that, Nessa, but I know you’re busy with those two homicides and I really need to see if Taylor’s in there today. I can’t wait anymore.”
“I’m not asking you to wait, Barker. At least not very long. Just give me time to track down a judge and get a warrant and-”
Barker’s eyebrows shot up.
“A warrant? How are you going to manage that? Taylor’s an adult. Staying at a commune isn’t a crime, so what grounds could you have for a warrant?”
There was a pause, and for a minute Barker thought the connection had dropped. Then Nessa responded in the artificially cheerful tone she always used when she was trying to hide something.
“Let me figure that one out, Barker. You just stay away from the compound, and the man with the gun, while I do. I don’t want you getting shot.”
“What am I supposed to do then, Nessa? Sit here and twiddle my thumbs?” Barker slumped back against the seat. “It seems like dead girls have been turning up every five minutes. I keep thinking Taylor may turn up next.”
A black Dodge pickup drove past the compound gate. Barker’s pulse quickened, but the driver didn’t look over or slow down. He followed the truck’s progress in the rearview mirror, then shifted his eyes back to the gate.
“Maybe you can offer Jankowski a hand while I work on the warrant,” Nessa suggested. “He’s in the woods not too far from where you are, at the gas station where Candace Newbury’s body was found. They’ve found tracks leading into the swamp and are trying to pull together a search party.”
“I feel like my whole life has been one big search,” Barker muttered, but the idea of stretching out his stiff back and stomping through the woods didn’t sound too bad.
“Okay, I’ll give you a few hours to see what you can do. But warrant or no warrant, I’m going in that commune tonight.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Jankowski stood in front of Viper Airboat Rides with both hands on his hips, his lips set in a grim line, disapproval clear on his face. As Barker steered the Prius toward the little wooden building, he looked over at Frankie with a sarcastic smile.
“Guess Detective Jankowski’s not too impressed with Hank and Dooley.”
“Nobody’s impressed with Hank and Dooley,” Frankie said, rolling his eyes. “But who else would be dumb enough to let us take their airboat out on the swamp at night?”
Jankowski spotted the blue Prius and waved to Barker. He called over his shoulder to a man leaning against the wooden wall. The man stood, showing off a tall, lanky frame and a red crewcut.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Frankie said. “Why’d he bring GI Joe with him?”
“He probably needs all the hands he can get,” Barker replied, parking the Prius next to a spindly pine tree. “Why do you think he agreed to bring you along? Besides, Vanzinger’s got search and rescue training, unlike your sorry ass.”
Tucker Vanzinger lifted a cheerful hand in Barker’s direction, then grabbed up a heavy rucksack. The ex-cop owned a truck-stop now, but he still served in the National Guard, and the last time Jankowski had called on him for help, Vanzinger had requisitioned a helicopter to save Nessa and Eden Winthrop from a serial killer’s farm in the middle of a hurricane. Finding tracks in a swamp would likely be a piece of cake for the big man.
“Thought you boys weren’t coming,” Jankowski called out as Barker approached. He lowered his voice. “And when I saw this place I thought maybe you were playing some kind of joke.”
Frankie strutted over to the dock, gesturing toward the airboat bobbing up and down in the water.
“What are you talkin’ about? This here’s the best airboat tour in the preserve…maybe even in the whole county.”
Vanzinger raised an eyebrow as he inspected the battered boat.
“It’s probably the only one in the county.” He didn’t look impressed. “Since we’re just executing a slow search of the local area she should do the job.”
Hank popped up from behind the driver’s seat like a backwoods jack-in-the box. He held up the missing life jacket he’d been searching for.
“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with this boat.”
A limp strand of dirty blonde hair fell over his face, hiding one of his eyes. The other eye stared over at Jankowski resentfully.
“She’ll get up to sixty or higher if she’s in the right mood.”
Vanzinger stared at Hank for a long beat, then produced a dazzling smile. He was a Florida native, born in the backwoods, well versed in the unique communication style favored by most country folks. It was one of the reasons why Tucker’s Truck Stop was a favorite with the locals as well as the long-distance truckers looking for a friendly chat during their fill-up.
“Well, we sure do appreciate you letting us take this beauty out,” Vanzinger drawled. “We’ll be sure to bring her back safely.”
A frown appeared on Hank’s skinny, sunburned face, as if he suspected Vanzinger was making fun of him, but then he shrugged and handed Jankowski the lifejacket he was holding.
“You all have to wear these.” It was Hank’s turn to put on a wide cheesy smile. “But then you should know that since it’s the law.
”
Once Jankowski, Barker and Frankie had climbed into the airboat, lifejackets awkwardly in place, Vanzinger hauled himself up into the elevated driver’s seat. He dumped his rucksack on the seat next to him and unzipped it, rummaging around inside.
“Let’s search out by the CSL commune first,” Barker said, trying to act casual. “It’s nearby, it’s secluded…it’d be an ideal hiding place for a man on the run.”
“Fine by me,” Jankowski said. “But we’re actually looking for two people. A man and a woman.”
The news knocked the wind out of Barker. He hadn’t known the police suspected two perps were involved.
Two killers, and one of them is a woman? What the hell…
Pulling out a pile of headsets, Vanzinger distributed one to each man. He slipped a headset over his ears and pointed to the built-in microphone.
“These’ll protect your ears and let us hear each other while the propeller’s spinning.”
He looked down at a slim device on his wrist, then held it up so the men could get a better view.
“GPS navigator, top of the range. It’ll track our current position and the exact path we take. We can keep track of where we’ve been and backtrack as needed.”
Jankowski gave him a thumbs up, and Barker looked properly impressed. Frankie rolled his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to cross his arms over his bulky life jacket.
“La-de-da, man, I’m really impressed. Now, can we just get going?” He looked into the surrounding water nervously. “If we sit in one place too long a fucking snake will try to crawl in the boat.”
Vanzinger laughed out loud and shook his head.
“Snakes don’t crawl, my friend. They slither!”
Before Frankie could respond, Vanzinger flipped a switch, sending the huge propeller spinning, and thrust the stick forward. The boat vibrated beneath them, then slid smoothly out into the water.
Barker adjusted his headphones over his ears and flipped on the microphone. He turned to Jankowski.
“Is this thing working? Can you hear me?”
Jankowski nodded, his eyes scanning the terrain as they moved slowly through the dusky air. The sun was setting somewhere to the west, but the sprawling cypress trees blocked the light. Barker heard a high-pitched whistle, and he looked up to see a massive Osprey nest on top of a withered tree. A bird perched in the nest, spreading its long narrow wings, before soaring into the sky.
Catch the Girl Page 21
