Читать книгу Shattered Secrets - Карен Харпер - Страница 10

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Gabe felt as if a bomb blast had gone off close to his head. His ears were ringing, his head felt as though it would split, his lungs ached. In Iraq, he’d been thrown ten yards and suffered torn nerve connections from an explosion. Now his own blast of fury and panic propelled him down the street to the Creekside Gifts shop. He almost hurtled through the door. Woo-ooo, a haunted house automatic recording went off, followed by witchlike cackling.

He didn’t see Jace, but the store manager, Lindell Kenton, Sandy’s mother, was slumped over the checkout desk halfway back in the store. Gabe brushed aside fake cobwebs and two suspended mannequins dressed as witches. Lindell sat on a tall stool behind the counter. Her tear-streaked face tilted toward Gabe.

“It can’t be,” she said, and started to sob. Her face was red, her eyes swollen. “She was just playing in the back room, like always. She...she just disappeared when I answered the phone here. Win’s on his way. This can’t...can’t be happening. Not now. Never!”

Gabe knew she was referring to the time of year. The two previous kidnappings had also occurred in October, though ten years apart. Tomorrow was the date Tess had been taken. He’d been planning to keep an eye on her and things in town. He’d always treated October 13 as a day to be careful—in short, be wary of copycats, protect people and places. But now this.

Jace appeared from the back room, shoving his way through two dangling ghosts made of sheets. “I’ve been up and down the back alley,” he called to Gabe. “Next, I’ll check all the stores and buildings on this side of the street.”

“Go start that. I want Lindell to walk me through everything.”

But he followed Jace to the back door, relieved to see he’d used rubber bands to fasten small paper sacks over both door handles to preserve possible prints. “And, Jace,” he called after him, “check the alley Dumpsters and the creek out back. It’s shallow enough there to see into. But we’ll have to drag it to the east where it gets deep.”

“Her mother says she wouldn’t leave the building.”

“But she did—one way or the other.”

As Gabe hurried back into the front room, Lindell started speaking. “It was just a normal day.” Her voice was nasally and thick with crying. Gabe put his hand over hers, gripped on the counter. “Normal—I mean that we do this two days a week when she’s not at my sister’s house with her kids. She plays here, helps me,” she said, and dissolved into sucking sobs.

“Okay, Lindell, you’ve got to help me. We’ll find her. Don’t jump to conclusions,” he insisted, though he was jumping to them too, despite the fact that the other girls had been taken more or less from their backyards. “There’s a lot of stuff in here for Halloween and probably more things in the back. Could she be hiding? Could she have hit her head and knocked herself out? Come on, take me to the last place you saw her and talk me through it. Don’t leave anything out.”

Still shaking her head at his questions, she got up from the stool. Her cell phone on the counter rang. She jumped to answer it. Gabe moved closer to hear.

“Just a customer,” she whispered.

“Tell them there’s an emergency, and you’re closed. Hang up but keep the phone on and with you.”

She did what he said. Her voice quavered on the word emergency as she talked to the customer. “Maybe we’ll get a ransom call,” she said when she hung up. “I pray to God it’s someone who wants to give her back for money.”

Looking dazed, Lindell led him into the back storage room. It was a maze of stacked boxes, costumes and masks laid out on a worktable. He knew a lot of local folks would buy their costumes and candy at the big Walmart on the highway, but this was a popular place too, even with the Lake Azure residents. They always had a huge costume party here for Halloween, so, no doubt, a lot of people could have been in here and seen Sandy, cute, blonde, friendly, probably trusting.

In another area he saw shelves with small Christmas trees, cloth Santas and carved manger scenes. Halloween isn’t even here yet, Gabe thought as he concentrated on what she was saying and showing him.

He’d known Lindell and her husband, Winston, for as long as he could remember. Elementary school and beyond; they were three years ahead of him in school. The Kentons had been high school sweethearts, prom king and queen. Win worked for the state park system; Lindell ran this shop. They had two boys in middle school, then Sandy, their baby. Damn, if this was another of the abductions that had haunted this place for twenty years. The sign on the road into town that touted the scenic nature and friendly folks ought to also read Home of the Cold Creek Kidnapper.

* * *

Tess knew she couldn’t go home right away. Her thoughts were racing. It was almost the day she was taken. But if it was another of the abductions, this time it was from a gift shop in town. Perhaps this terrible event wasn’t related to her abduction at all.

She forced herself to stop at the Kwik Shop, where she bought a sack of freshly baked donuts for Gracie and Lee, a box of chocolate chip cookies for Kelsey and animal crackers for Ethan. She had gifts for them at the house, but she’d have to deliver them later, because she could not face her house in the clutches of the cornfield right now. She didn’t take the time to buy anything she needed for herself, but paid, got back in her car and drove straight past her house to the Hear Ye Commune about two miles down Valley View. She had to see little Kelsey and Ethan, put her arms around them, know that they were safe. That way, wouldn’t she feel safer too?

When she turned in at the compound, she saw a hand-carved wooden sign that read Hear Ye, While There Is Yet Time!

A dirt lane led to a small parking lot outside the main fence. She turned in with the words echoing in her head. While there is yet time. If the young girl in town had been taken, how much time was left to find her before she was driven out of the area, spirited away to be gone for months, maybe forever? Gabe and his deputy must be looking for her in town, but wouldn’t the girl’s abductor flee for the hills or some rural place to hide her?

Without stopping, Tess turned the car around and drove right back out onto the road. There was surely safety in numbers inside the compound, where Kelsey and Ethan would be warm, watched, loved. But somewhere out on some road, there could be a child, taken away, hidden, a little girl, shivering and too scared to cry.

Tess knew she had to drive these roads looking for something—anything! And she was going past Dane Thompson’s house and pet cemetery first.

* * *

As the minutes passed, Gabe could almost hear a clock in his head, one with an alarm clanging. Sandy’s father, Win Kenton, had arrived and was pacing and shouting. Lindell was still crying. She’d gone berserk in the storage room when they found the Barbie doll Sandy always kept with her. Gabe had to physically remove her in case there were clues in the clutter.

In the past half hour, Gabe had called in the BCI, the Bureau of Criminal Identification and Investigation, from near London, Ohio, up by Columbus. They’d been helpful on the other cases, though they’d never found the abducted girls. But they could provide forensic help, which a small, rural district could not afford. He’d notified the State Highway Patrol, even though he had no clue what sort of vehicle might be involved.

Jace had said there was no sign of the girl in the creek, at least nearby. They had the volunteer fire department dragging the eastern part where it got deep. Jace was still talking to store owners and shoppers to find out if anyone had seen something suspicious. That helped to spread the word, including that the sheriff was forming a civilian search team of the area in one hour’s time. The meeting place was the parking lot by the sheriff’s office and fire department. It had not escaped Gabe that this abduction had taken place in the building that used to be the sheriff’s office. Surely that had not been a perverted challenge or insult. But what if the kidnapper had chosen this site on purpose?

He walked away from the Kentons and called Ann on his radio. Before he could say a word, she blurted, “Marian Bell wants to offer a huge reward for any information leading to the recovery of her daughter and or Sandy Kenton. She’s still here, refuses to leave.”

“Better there than here, but it’s too early for a reward. Listen, call Peggy in too, wake her up. You two are going to have to help each other on the phones over the next twenty-four hours in case any info comes in. And a BCI unit is on their way. I’ll talk to the FBI later, but I don’t want them taking over, and there’s never been a shred of proof anyone’s been taken across state lines. Actually Tess Lockwood coming back alive only about seven miles from where she was taken weighs in against that.”

“I’ll call my brothers to help with the search as soon as I get to Peggy,” Ann said.

Peggy Barfield was Gabe’s night dispatcher, an older woman than Ann. Poor Peggy had probably only gotten about four hours of sleep. But this was—at least it could be—war. He hated ordering Ann around so brusquely, and was reminded he’d done a dumb thing with her. They’d been dating, when he knew better than to mix business with pleasure. Worse, he wasn’t that serious about Ann, but she—and her three local, redneck brothers—had it in their heads that Gabe should be proposing about now.

“Okay, Gabe, got it,” Ann said. “I’ll start making lots of coffee. I’ve got the urns here for the charity auction. You take care of yourself, for the possible victim, the community—and me.”

“Talk to you later. Let people wait inside if they show up early for the volunteer search.”

For the possible victim, the community—and me, she’d said. Now there was a motto for a reelection poster, but that was the least of his worries right now. How about adding For the first victim too—Tess Lockwood? When she heard about this would she be stoic or distraught? Would it trigger any memories? If only he could be there to comfort her when she eventually heard.

Damn. He spotted Mayor Owens hustling across the street toward the store, looking really steamed. Having him around was the last thing Gabe needed.

* * *

Tess slowed as she passed Dane Thompson’s house and vet clinic. She could see the fenced-in pet cemetery beyond the back lawn with its separate drive. Of course, the size of the cemetery had grown a lot from what she recalled. Once, before she was abducted, Char and Kate had taken her the entire length through the cornfield to read the tombstones—the names and quotes about the buried pets. There had been a few photos too, embedded into the marble monuments, but nothing like the electronic resurrection of pets Marva had mentioned.

Though she was trembling already, Tess shuddered at the memory of pictures of dead pets—some even after death, made to look natural, as if they were asleep. Or were they ones that had been stuffed and mounted by Dane’s taxidermist friend? Pushing thoughts of dead pets aside, Tess wondered if the kidnapper was getting so desperate that he took a child from a store in town? And if Marian Bell’s daughter was kidnapped only four months ago—she didn’t know any details of that abduction—the crimes were a lot closer together than hers and the second girl, Jill Stillwell’s, had been.

And why pick on one little town, one small, rural area? It had to be because the kidnapper knew it well, probably lived here. So, did he keep his victims nearby? Why didn’t he go to Chillicothe or Columbus, where there were more victims available and no one would recognize him? Her mother had said once that Gabe’s dad had tried to check for similar kidnappings, but no other statewide or nationwide crimes had the same circumstances. Now, this missing girl’s situation didn’t match the first two either.

Tess saw that the same huge cornfield that backed up to her house still ended behind the Thompson property. Like many of the large fields nearby, it was owned and farmed by a wealthy local man using huge, mechanical planters and reapers. That deep, dark cornfield abutting the Lockwood property was one reason Dane had been on the list of persons of interest when Tess was taken. That and the fact that people just plain considered him a bit weird. He’d never married, had stayed out of public life and, with his close friend, a taxidermist named John Hillman, had always been fascinated by dead animals. And for some reason she could not explain, Tess admitted she had an instinctive dislike and fear of this place.

She didn’t see the white van parked anywhere around, but she did see Marva raking leaves at the side of the house. Tess turned around at the next intersection and drove back. She wouldn’t go into the house, the clinic, of course, especially not the cemetery, but she could drive in and chat with Marva. Indirectly, she could learn if Dane was home or where he was. It would be something to help Gabe, because she could never help him in the way everyone thought and hoped she could—by remembering any details about what had happened to her.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she drove slowly up the paved driveway. She reached for the sack of donuts she had bought for Gracie and Lee and got out.

“Oh, Teresa—I mean Tess,” Marva called, obviously surprised to see her. She stopped raking. “Is this a return visit already, or do you have a pet who needs help? Dane’s not here right now—house calls at Lake Azure and someplace else.”

So Dane was out in his van somewhere while a new girl was missing. Gripping the sack in front of her, Tess walked closer. Dried leaves rustled under her feet. Did she remember this place? The farmhouse, the garage and clinic building? No, but she did recall being pulled through the pet gravestones here, didn’t she? Or was that the memory of when Dane yelled at her and her sisters and they fled? What a shock it would be if she’d spent the eight months of her captivity so close to home.

“You were just so kind to bring me that delicious coffee cake, and I saw these fresh-baked donuts in town, Marva. After all, we are neighbors of the same cornfield.”

“Why, yes, we are. I didn’t expect one thing back in kind, but I thank you.” She peeked in the bag. “Dane loves this kind, and coming from you, he’ll be extra pleased.”

“Why is that?” Tess asked, annoyed her voice quavered.

“Didn’t anyone tell you that some busybodies blamed him at first when you disappeared? This will mean to him that you certainly don’t believe that false drivel and slander. Why, he’s dedicated himself to protecting life, not harming anyone. Won’t you step inside?”

Tess shook her head and stepped back a bit. She considered telling Marva that another child was missing, just to see her reaction. She should probably agree to step into the house, even to wait to talk to Dane, but she was suddenly filled with the need to get out of here.

She’d have to tell Gabe what she’d done and learned. Marva was outside as if nothing had happened, but Dane was out somewhere—and with his van. Perhaps someone had spotted him uptown today. Maybe he’d have an alibi. Guilt and fear aside, Tess knew deep down she’d be best staying out of all this, for her own safety and sanity. So what was she doing here on the property of the man many suspected was the Cold Creek kidnapper?

“See you later, Marva!” Tess called as she got back in her car.

She turned down one country road and then another, just driving, thinking. Finally, she found herself stopping at the spot where a man in a pickup truck had seen her walking dazed along the road eight months after she’d disappeared. Eight months! And she couldn’t really recall one thing about her time away.

No cars were coming from either direction. Tess stopped and, sitting in her car with tears in her eyes, thanked the Lord for letting her be found in this very place—well, somewhere along here, Mom had said. And she prayed Sandy Kenton and the two other missing girls would be found safe and sound and soon.