Читать книгу Vanished - Elizabeth Heiter - Страница 11

Four

“So that’s Evelyn Baine,” an unfamiliar voice was saying as Evelyn finally broke free of cops’ questions after presenting her profile.

Evelyn’s steps slowed as she headed toward the CARD command post. Whoever was talking was around the bend in the hallway of the station.

“The way you were ranting about her, I was expecting a total disaster at the profile briefing. But she seems smart.”

“Smart?”

Evelyn didn’t recognize the first voice, but she knew who the snarling response belonged to: Jack Bullock. What she didn’t know was why he felt so much animosity toward her. The last time they’d spoken at any length, she’d been twelve years old.

“She’s a liability,” Jack said dismissively. “But if her profile matches my suspect, then why the hell can’t I go harass him? Give me a few hours with him and I guarantee you I can get this bastard to confess.”

“Evelyn?”

Evelyn jumped at the voice behind her, and Jack and whoever he was talking to were instantly silent. She spun around.

Tomas stood behind her, exhaustion hanging off him like an oversize coat. “What are you doing?”

“Spying, apparently,” Jack drawled, coming around the corner, animosity in his eyes.

Next to him was a man about his age, with rapidly receding blond hair, broad shoulders and a gut that strained his uniform. A flush spread out from beneath his neatly trimmed beard, but he held out his hand politely. “I’m T. J. Sutton, ma’am. I joined the force about ten years ago, after you were gone.” His gaze whipped to Jack, then back to her. “Sorry about what you just overheard. We’re glad you’re here.”

Evelyn shook T.J.’s hand, then, ignoring Jack’s frown, asked him, “Who’s your suspect?”

Before he could reply, Tomas sighed. “Not Wiggins again.”

“Yeah, Wiggins. Are you honestly going to tell me he’s not a suspect?”

“Of course he’s a suspect,” Tomas snapped. “But you already questioned him with that CARD agent. You’re not going back. Not now. Not unless we have some new evidence.”

Evelyn’s head moved back and forth between them. With only three hours to review the case evidence and create a profile, she hadn’t had time to look at any suspects—and it was BAU practice not to, until the profile was complete. Knowing the suspects beforehand could taint the profile. She’d hoped to investigate the most promising suspects next.

“Who’s Wiggins? How does he match the profile?”

The name sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it until Tomas clarified, “Walter Wiggins.”

And then a hazy memory of a young man with light brown hair flopping over his forehead and big ears flashed through her mind. “Wasn’t he a teenager eighteen years ago?”

“He’d have been twenty then,” Jack said.

“That’s a little young. How does he match the profile?”

“He’s a weenie wagger,” Jack spat.

Surprised, Evelyn asked, “He exposed himself? To children?”

Jack released a disgusted sigh. “Probably. But he was convicted of child molestation.”

Queasiness rolled in her gut. She’d known this would be part of the investigation. She’d expected it. She’d even profiled it. These days, the majority of nonparental abductions were by sexual offenders. But somehow, talking about a potential suspect with a specific criminal history made her feel sick.

Don’t think about Cassie, she warned herself. But it was too late.

She’d realized for years that Cassie was probably dead. But she’d tried so hard not to imagine what had come before that, after she’d been abducted.

The cops were staring at her expectantly, so Evelyn said, “Tell me about his conviction.”

“It was after he finished college,” Tomas said. “He’d moved out to DC for some lobbyist job. According to the trial notes, he volunteered at his local church, babysat all the neighbors’ kids and was generally well liked until he was arrested for child molestation.”

“And then he came back here?”

“Yeah. Apparently his neighbors in DC started taking baseball bats to his car windows on a regular basis, so Wiggins thought he’d be safer in Rose Bay. He moved back in with his parents, and he’s lived there ever since. Well, just his dad now. His mom died last year and his dad’s in bad health himself. There’s been a lot of pressure over the years to run Walter out of town.”

“They should’ve done it,” Jack said. “Everyone would have been better off.”

Tomas frowned. “Walter’s parents always maintained his innocence.”

“But you said he was convicted, right?” Evelyn asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Tomas replied. “His parents couldn’t stand to believe it, but I read all the trial notes. There’s no question Wiggins was guilty, and he went to jail. Not as long as he should have, if you ask me, but then, I’d lock these guys up for life. Anyway, that’s why the CARD team wanted to talk to him—he’s on the registered sex offender list.”

“Is he a preferential molester?” If he was, it meant he had a specific age and gender he targeted, instead of preying on any easy target.

“He is,” Jack said. “His victims in DC were girls between six and twelve. The sick bastard.”

Cassie’s age. “What does he do now? Something that gives him time to stalk potential victims?”

“Something with computers,” Jack said, looking at Tomas, who shrugged. “I think he works from home, contract stuff.”

“So, no scheduled hours at an office, where he’d be missed,” Evelyn concluded. “Girlfriend?”

Jack snorted. “Hell, no. Far as I know, he’s never had one.”

“Who’s got the notes from today’s interview with Wiggins?”

“The FBI agent,” Jack said. “But we should just go back there. Hell, you can come if you want to. Let me do the talking, though. I can get under this guy’s skin.”

Evelyn shook her head. “No. If he’s a strong suspect, we need to monitor him carefully. If we make him too nervous, if he feels like we’re paying him special attention and he does have Brittany, he might kill her.”

“If she’s still alive,” T.J. contributed softly.

“If she’s still alive,” Evelyn agreed. “But we have to proceed as if she is.”

“Well, what if we don’t do anything and that gives Wiggins time to kill her?” Jack argued.

Tomas and T.J. turned to look at her.

Tension knotted in her neck. “Where was this guy eighteen years ago?”

“College,” Jack replied. “About an hour north of here. He spent his summers there, taking extra classes so he could graduate early. But he came home on weekends often enough. After he moved back home and word got out about what happened in DC, people started wondering if he could’ve snuck in and out of the towns back then. Only one of those original abductions was in Rose Bay...”

Jack broke off, because of course she knew that. Only Cassie had been taken here. The other girls were from small towns up the coast.

Jack cleared his throat and continued. “Once a molester, always a molester, right?”

Evelyn felt her shoulders slump and forced herself to stand straighter. “Not necessarily, but once a pedophile...”

“Always a pedophile,” Jack finished. “See?” He looked at Tomas. “We’ve got to act on this before it’s too late!”

“Was he ever investigated in connection with the original abductions?” Evelyn asked.

“He was,” T.J. answered. “Once he moved back here from DC. I was part of the force then and we pulled the Nursery Rhyme Killer as a cold case to revisit. It was...what?” He glanced at Jack, creases forming around his eyes. “Nine years ago?”

“He was arrested nine years ago?” Evelyn asked.

“No. He was arrested when he was twenty-five. But he finally got sick of the harassment nine years ago and came back here.”

“Like we wanted him,” Jack put in.

“So? Did you find any connection to the Nursery Rhyme cases?”

T.J. shook his head. “Jack and I were part of the team working on it, but we couldn’t come up with anything.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not guilty,” Jack insisted. “I have a bad feeling about this guy.”

So did she. But experience told her he was far from the only sex offender in the area who preyed on children. And it didn’t mean he was the Nursery Rhyme Killer.

“I’ll go through the interview notes and come up with a strategy for you,” she promised Tomas. “I’d like to do that with any promising suspects you have.”

Jack leaned forward and opened his mouth, but Tomas silenced him with a long, hard look. “Okay, but hurry. And start with Wiggins, if you think he’s probable. Brittany’s been missing for...” He checked his watch. “Almost seventeen hours now. And damn it, I want to bring her home alive.”

* * *

“Let’s hear it. What’s the strategy on Wiggins?” Jack demanded an hour later.

He was sitting too close to her in the CARD command post, his wide shoulders invading her personal space as he read the notes from Walter Wiggins’s interview over her shoulder. Why he needed to read them again when he’d been part of the interview team, she didn’t understand. It was probably to piss her off.

Evelyn shifted subtly away. “Walter talks repeatedly in this interview about how people in town follow him around wherever he goes.”

“Can you blame them?” Jack asked. “Everyone knows what he did. No one wants him here. But if we can’t get rid of him, we’re going to watch his every move.”

Evelyn raised her eyebrows pointedly, but Jack just stared back at her until she sighed. “If people are constantly watching him, could he really have stalked and then abducted Brittany without being noticed?”

“It’s not like we have some kind of schedule. The Nelsons follow him around from two to six, then the Grants take over, then...”

“Yeah, I get it,” Evelyn broke in. “But if people tend to be aware of him, could he actually pull this off? Think about it, okay? I know you don’t like him and I don’t blame you, but let’s not waste time on him if he’s not a viable suspect.”

Jack scowled, but he was silent for a minute before admitting, “He’d have to be really sneaky. If people saw him on High Street, they would’ve taken notice, you’re right. It’s not like, I don’t know, say if T.J. was walking down the street. Most people wouldn’t remember it, because he belongs. But Wiggins? Yeah, people would chase him off with sticks. And they’d definitely remember if they saw him around Brittany’s house close to when she was grabbed.”

“Okay, so...”

“But I’m not counting him out. I’ve been a cop a long time and experience tells me that coincidences like this are rare. I mean, we have one sex offender who likes girls the same age as Brittany and one man abducting them. What are the chances it’s not the same person?”

“Experience must also tell you that if you check the database, you probably have a couple more registered sex offenders in the area who also fit.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, well, I got partnered with the CARD agent interviewing those particular scumbags, so believe me, I know. There’s a guy one town over who’s nonpreferential—he’ll screw anyone or anything and he’s been arrested for all of it and keeps getting out. And there are two more in the town where the first girl was abducted eighteen years ago who could fit, too. But all three of those assholes have pretty solid alibis for Brittany’s abduction.”

“Are you sure? Because the ones from the town where the first girl was abducted...”

“I’m positive,” Jack interrupted. “The alibis are airtight. So, let’s focus on Wiggins. I see your point, but this guy is slimy.”

Evelyn held in a sigh. Walter Wiggins seemed like a dead end to her, but if she dismissed him and turned out to be wrong, she’d hate herself for it later. “Okay. What might Walter do with Brittany if he abducted her? You said he lives with his father?”

Jack tapped his thick knuckles against the table, his brow furrowed. “Yeah, he does. But hell, who knows if he kept her at all, right?” His anger suddenly seemed to deflate, leaving him looking older than he was, and very tired. “If he just...you know, raped the girl and then buried her...” His voice broke.

Evelyn nodded, staring down at the interview notes again. “I’ll talk to Tomas about putting an officer on him. We might try interviewing his father, but if Brittany is still alive, we can’t spook him. If Walter is the perp and he feels too much pressure, he could kill her out of fear.”

“It doesn’t matter what we do. Wiggins is feeling pressure right now. The whole town knows what he is. His dad’s house has already been vandalized. Someone spray painted the words child killer and pervert all over the front door. No one was outside when we went to talk to Wiggins, but I could see the curtains moving on the neighbors’ houses. They’re all watching him.”

Evelyn tried to think positive. “Well, in some ways, that’s good. If he does have Brittany, that makes it harder for him to move her.”

“I guess.” Jack looked around the room.

The CARD command post was empty except for the two of them. Even Carly had gone, to meet with Noreen Abbott, the Rose Bay PD administrative assistant coordinating the search parties.

In fact, most of the station was empty. The cops who’d come in to hear her profile had cleared out. Those who hadn’t been on shift had headed home. Most of the others had gone back to canvassing neighborhoods.

She’d never get a better chance to clear the air with Jack. “So, Jack, why the animosity? I haven’t seen you since I left for college.”

Jack’s gaze shifted back to her, anger flickering in his deep brown eyes. “I don’t care what you do for the FBI, Evelyn. You don’t belong here and you know it. You never did.”

Evelyn instinctively leaned away from him, then stiffened her spine. “This is a race thing? Is that why you questioned me so hard eighteen years ago? Were you trying to make me cry?”

“No, it’s not about race,” Jack snarled, but the expression in his eyes said otherwise. “I don’t give a shit whatever mix you are. I questioned you hard because you were one of the last people to see her alive. It wasn’t about your precious little feelings. It was about bringing that girl home.”

He got to his feet, jabbing a finger at her. “And it’s the same now. Can you really tell me you’re impartial? Can you honestly profile this case? Or are you so jammed up with hatred and anger that you’re going to overlook something? So focused on Cassie Byers that you’re going to miss seeing what’s going on with Brittany Douglas?”

A vein started throbbing in the center of his forehead. “You’re here for Cassie, but she’s been dead for eighteen years and you damn well know it. You feel guilty because you were supposed to be a victim, too. But we need someone impartial. We need a real profiler here, not an intended victim coming home to play hero.”

He pounded a fist down on the table. “We need to catch this asshole!”

She swallowed hard, unable to form a reply, and then just watched him as he shook his head in disgust, and strode from the room.

She wasn’t trying to play hero. Finding Cassie meant finding Brittany, too. But damn, as nasty as Jack’s words were, he was half right. She could try to use the original abductions to tell her about the perp, but her focus needed to be on the girl missing now, not Cassie.

And for her, it was always going to come back to Cassie.

She pressed a hand to her temple. Maybe Jack had a point. Maybe she didn’t belong here.

Eighteen years ago, she sure as hell hadn’t. Eighteen years ago, everyone had stared at her as though she were some kind of curiosity with her light brown skin in a world of white. At the time, she’d been the only one living in town who didn’t fit.

Some people—like Cassie—hadn’t cared. But a lot of them had. Most were too well-mannered to be rude to her face, but even at ten, she’d heard the whispers. She hadn’t always known what they meant, but she’d known they were about her.

It had been twenty years since she’d first set foot in Rose Bay. The town had changed. But maybe not as much as she’d thought.

She was trying to rein in her emotions when Tomas raced into the room. “Where’s Jack?”

“He left a few minutes ago. Why?”

Tomas’s eyes narrowed, as if he could tell something was off with her, then he said, “I need him to get over to the hospital and talk to his favorite suspect.”

Evelyn stood. “Walter is at the hospital? Why?”

“Brittany Douglas’s dad just beat him up.”

“Why?” Had she screwed up, rejecting Walter as a viable suspect? “Did he have a specific reason to suspect Walter?”

“I don’t know,” Tomas replied. “Two of my officers are bringing Mark Douglas in.”

When Evelyn started to follow him to the front of the station, Tomas warned, “I’d stay where you are. We just arrested the victim’s father. No one’s happy with us.” Instead of returning to the CARD command post, Evelyn picked up her pace to match Tomas’s stride.

He glanced at her, looking surprised, then warned, “Everyone was terrified already. Now we’ve pissed them off. Things are volatile out there.”

As she walked to the front of the station with him, she saw that volatile was an understatement. Angry residents swarmed the parking lot, held at bay by a pair of cops. The crowd was mostly men, between twenty and sixty. They wore everything from shorts and T-shirts to suits and ties. Evelyn guessed there were thirty of them, but with only three cops who hadn’t been expecting this kind of trouble, it was too many.

The crowd was pushing and screaming and the cops, even though they were obvious veterans, looked overwhelmed. Evelyn had never seen her hometown like this, even eighteen years ago. Despite what she’d seen in the Bureau, it was actually a little scary.

Especially as a police car pulled up as close to the station door as it could get and two officers dragged a man out of the backseat who had to be Mark Douglas. His eyes were bloodshot, his face ragged with grief, his hands raw and bloodied.

The cops were young, clearly rookies. One held tight to Mark’s arm. The other’s hand lingered near his sidearm, his gaze darting nervously around the crowd as it rushed in on him.

“Pigs!” someone shouted. “We do your job for you and get arrested for it?”

“Let him go!” someone else yelled.

“Shit,” Tomas said. “Jack! T.J.! Get out here! Grab your batons!”

“Maybe...” Evelyn began.

“Stay inside the station,” Tomas told her, heading for the front door. “Most of our officers are out running down leads, and this could get ugly.”

Evelyn grabbed his arm. “Do you have a bullhorn?”

Tomas gave her an incredulous look. “In my office,” he said, pulling free and opening the front door.

The yelling roared several decibels louder. The pair of cops trying to manage the crowd was being pushed back toward the station. The cops trying to bring Mark inside were trapped against their patrol car. One of them pulled his weapon, and just like that, two residents had him slammed into the car.

Evelyn saw the weapon drop to the ground and Tomas raced into the crowd as she spun for his office. She wasn’t a negotiator, but she’d worked with the best the FBI had. And she knew calming the crowd down fast was the best chance to avoid getting someone hurt.

As she sprinted into Tomas’s office and found the bullhorn, Jack and T.J. hurried past, carrying heavy shields she hadn’t expected a small town like Rose Bay would have.

Jack and T.J. shoved their way through the crowd with their shields, trying to get to the rookies by the car.

Evelyn spotted Tomas in the middle, his hands out in a calming gesture. A broad-shouldered man with silver-streaked hair who seemed to be the closest thing the mob had to an instigator yelled back at him, slapping Tomas’s hands away.

The two cops who’d been holding back the crowd were yelling, too. It sounded as if they were agreeing with their neighbors that Brittany’s dad shouldn’t have been arrested, and promising to let him go if the crowd went home.

The rookies who’d brought in Mark Douglas were down near their patrol car. One had crawled half-underneath it to avoid getting trampled, while the other struggled to get back to his feet, his hand pressed to his bleeding head.

Mark, still in cuffs, was being dragged through the crowd. He kept looking backward, and seemed to be arguing with the crowd to let him get arrested, which was only making them angrier.

Evelyn opened the door, stepped to the edge of the crowd and lifted the bullhorn. She pressed the button to broadcast, knowing she needed to return their focus to what really mattered. “This isn’t helping Brittany. You need to leave the investigation to the police!”

The crowd quieted, seeming to still almost instantly. But that only lasted a fraction of a second. Then the man talking to Tomas yelled, “Was it your idea to arrest the victim’s father?” And the crowd surged forward, shifting direction, toward the front of the station, toward her.

Evelyn took a quick step back, pressing the button on the bullhorn again. But it was too late. Two people closest to her shoved her sideways, away from the station door, and the bullhorn fell from her hands.

She regained her balance, put her right hand near her hip to protect her weapon and tried to move backward. But someone else came in from the other side, blocking her way.

Then Jack’s voice cut through the yelling. “Evelyn! Hey! Move away from her!” He started pushing toward her, leading with his shield, and knocked someone out of his way.

Suddenly everyone seemed to be moving at once, in different directions. The men on her left spun to face Jack, knocking her backward.

She stumbled, and righted herself just as a cloud of pepper spray dispersed into the air. It filled her lungs, making her cough with every breath. Her eyes burned, watering until it was hard to see.

The crowd moved fast to get away from it, shoving and pushing away from the station, and Evelyn went down hard on one knee.

She tried to get to her feet, but the crowd suddenly shifted again as a gunshot rang out. Someone slammed into her, and she fell to the ground. Then all she could do was curl up and try to protect her head, hoping she wasn’t about to get trampled.