Girl, Vanished (An Ella Dark FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 5)

by Blake Pierce

  Her laptop showed a screen dedicated to the forgotten religion of Santeria. According to her research, Santerians believed that certain coins contained ashes of the gods and placing them among the dead would make them targets of the creatures of hell. And in addition to this cruel practice, Santerians also carried out ritual human sacrifice. And more alarming still was that these sacrifices were always non-believers or followers of other religions.

  Was it possible this unsub thought Jimmy Loveridge was part of a rival fellowship, so took his life as a ritual sacrifice?

  Ella searched for Santerians in Delaware but quickly found that the religion had been banned in certain parts of the world. North America was one of them. She widened her search before her phone distracted her.

  That guy? Let me talk to him.

  Ella re-read her previous message to decipher what the hell Mark was talking about. Then it hit her. He thought she was talking about Byford rather than the killer. She corrected herself.

  Whoops, sorry! I was talking about our unsub, not my so-called partner. How are things at HQ? x

  Ella scrolled through the pages, finding that the Santeria religion was still alive and well in underground circles. But how to get among them, that was the question. Apparently, followers of the religion kept their worshipping antics under wraps due to the legalities around the religion.

  Another reply.

  Don’t call him your partner. What have you been doing together?

  Ella read the message then threw her phone down in frustration. What was going through Mark’s head to make him act like this? Where was the trust? You couldn’t just blindly assume that your partner was going to sleep with the next person who came along. She wished she’d have seen this insecurity sooner because she would have had second thoughts about dating him. She left Mark on read. She didn’t have time for this. Her unsub could be out there choosing his next time right this second, and she wasn’t going to let a jealous partner get in the way of stopping him.

  Something propelled her to get out of her seat. She needed a break from this room. Across the corridor, she spotted Sheriff Hunter walking into his office, so she headed his way.

  “Sheriff,” she said. “Could I use your skills a second?”

  He slumped down in his chair and rubbed his face, the image of the classic overworked police officer.

  “Sure. What’s the situation? Any developments?”

  “A few. I’ve found a small link between the victims, but I’m onto something much more interesting here.”

  “Oh?”

  “Could you search the police database for something please? I don’t have access to it.”

  “No problem.” Hunter put on his glasses and logged on his computer. “What am I searching for?”

  “Santeria,” Ella said.

  Hunter threw her a confused look. “What’s that? Someone’s name?”

  “No, just a keyword. It’s a long shot, I admit.”

  Hunter followed her request and typed it in. Ella corrected his spelling as he did. SEARCHING…

  “Could take a while,” Hunter said. “Not exactly hi-tech up in here. What’s this word anyway?”

  “It’s an old religion,” Ella said as she leaned over Hunter’s desk, her eyes glued to the screen. “I’m running with the theory that these are some kind of sacrifices.”

  “Like, Satanic activity?” asked Hunter with a grimace.

  “Something like that, but not quite. Something much more specific. It’s a real religion and it has a deep connection to coins and human sacrifice. Maybe our unsub might be a devout follower.”

  “Nasty stuff, that. I lived through the Satanic panic in the eighties. It was a load of overblown rubbish if you ask me, but some crazies took it a bit too seriously. You still get the occasional criminal Satanist these days but they’re…”

  The screen pinged and interrupted Hunter’s spiel. 0 RESULTS FOUND.

  “Damn, sorry girl. End of the line.”

  Ella cast her head back towards the ceiling. Disappointment again. “Like I said, it was a long shot. Thanks for trying.” Ella headed back to the door.

  “Hold up a second,” the sheriff called. “You’ve got my mind whirring.”

  Ella spun around then held on to the doorframe, hoping the sheriff had a miracle up his sleeve. “I’m all ears.”

  “Santeria. I’ve heard that word before. Where have I heard it?”

  Ella shrugged. “Could be a million places. It’s banned in this country. Maybe something to do with that?”

  Hunter threw his glasses on the table then tapped the back of his head against his chair. “No, no. There was a case a few years ago. I remember it because it reminded of that guitar player. Santana.”

  Hope sprung anew. Ella felt the rush. “A case involving Santeria? You’re kidding?”

  “No siree. Hold on. Let me work my magic.” Hunter typed away, frustratingly slow. “There was a kid. Some grad student. He’d flipped a lid and tried to kill his professor.”

  “A kid? Like a teenager?”

  “More like twenties. How old are kids in their last year of college? Twenty-one?”

  “Yeah, more or less,” she said.

  Hunter’s computer pinged. “Bam. Look who won the pony. Check this out.” He waved his hand in excitement.

  Ella rushed over and glared at the screen. 1 RESULT FOUND. Hunter clicked into the listing and up came a mugshot of an acne-ridden boy, dirty black hair covering his forehead. He had that dead-eye look, like he’d definitely stomped on a few small animals in his time.

  “Holy cow. Who’s this guy? What did he do?”

  “This my friend is Daniel Garcia. Twenty-one years old, lives right here in Elsmere. This lunatic attacked his professor sometime last year, tried to kill him. We were called to the university to sort things out.”

  Ella scanned his file. He looked like a puny figure, someone easily able to sneak in and out of places without being seen. And it looked like he had a penchant for aggression too.

  “He fits the profile, but what’s this got to do with Santeria?” Ella asked.

  The sheriff clicked onto the next page and scrolled through the notes. “There. The bottom section. Have a read of that.”

  Ella did, and couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

  “Oh… damn.”

  “Told you.”

  A few seconds later, she was back in her office with car keys in hand.

  ***

  During her rush to the car, she’d run into Byford outside the police precinct. She hadn’t told him everything, just that they needed to check someone out pronto. Ella drove while Byford checked Daniel Garcia’s profile on his phone.

  “You’ll have to explain this to me, Ella.”

  They got onto the Delaware streets. The GPS told her that the university was only five minutes away.

  “You’ll think I’m crazy, but hear me out.”

  Byford audibly sighed. “Alright.”

  Ella let it pass. No more arguments, she told herself. “I was looking into this ancient religion called Santeria. It’s an old diasporic religion originally from Cuba but quickly moved all across the world. One of their traditions is human sacrifice which, get this, involves burying the dead with coins.”

  “Right. I’m following.”

  “I searched the police database and found nothing, but then the sheriff remembered a case from last year. This Garcia kid was an ancient studies major who had a violent outburst and attacked his professor.”

  “Okay,” Byford shrugged, “but why?”

  “Because the professor rejected his paper. And guess what his paper was on?”

  “Oh, I see. Santeria.”

  “Exactly. And this guy fits the bill too. He’s agile, has a history of violence and can’t control his impulses. He’s also pretty smart if he’s a college kid.”

  Byford turned down the dial on the radio. “Well, I must say that’s pretty good work. I’m impressed you got that so q
uickly. The problem I’m seeing here is that there’s no address for this suspect.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that too. Hopefully the professor who got attacked will have some answers for us.”

  The university grounds came into view, occupying Ella’s entire vision. She found the parking lot with some intense navigation and pulled in a space. The agents got out and walked across the grounds, coming across a statue in the form of a giant book. A young woman was sunbathing on it.

  “Foyer, this way,” Byford said. It had only been a few years since Ella had been to university but the whole establishment seemed alien to her now. Bodies swarmed past her, most glued to cell phones. Others sat around in groups on the vast and lush greenery. She felt a little uncomfortable here, like she was too old to be in such a place.

  “Feels strange, doesn’t it?” Byford said.

  “You feel it too?”

  “Oh yes. That’s the generation gap at work. It only gets worse as you get older too.”

  Ella laughed. Finally, some personality. After what seemed like an endless walk, they reached the reception area. Ella buzzed for assistance and waited. Eventually, an older male rushed to the desk from a back room.

  “Hello, sorry to keep you,” he said. “How can I help?”

  Ella held up her badge. “We’re with the FBI. We’re looking for a Professor Casey. Do you know where we can find him?”

  The receptionist hadn’t taken his eyes off Ella’s badge, like she was showing him a picture of a gruesome medical experiment. “Umm, yes. I can get hold of him. Can I ask what this is about?”

  “I’m afraid not. It’s confidential.”

  “Okay, I’ll just be a moment.” The receptionist hurried into the back room. Ella used the opportunity to break open her new partner a little more.

  “What university did you go to?” she asked.

  Byford straightened his loose-fitting tie in the reflection of the reception window. “Illinois. I actually studied law.”

  Makes sense, Ella thought. He looked like a lawyer. “Wow, Illinois’s a major one. The FBI is kind of a step down after that,” she laughed.

  “You could say that. The Bureau actually headhunted me. I couldn’t say no. But sometimes I wish I had, given some of the things I’ve seen.”

  Ella wanted to ask more but the receptionist came back. “Professor Casey will be down in a moment,” he said. “Would you like to take a seat while you wait?”

  They did. Members of the student body came and went, casting them sly glances as they passed by. Ella knew they looked out of place but found it quite comforting that she did, in a way. She hadn’t really liked her university years, and she was glad they were behind her, but she definitely missed the lack of responsibility.

  “What kind of things did you see in counterterrorism?” she asked Byford, unable to resist the urge.

  Byford tapped his foot against the marble floor. He bent sharply and cracked his neck. “Some things I’d like to erase,” he said. “There’s a reason I moved away from it, and it wasn’t because of the pay.”

  “I’ve never had much interaction with that department. They’re not even based in Washington, are they?”

  “No, they’re in the Chicago branch. That’s where I was based. But I had to get away.”

  A man in a gray sweater and red trousers approached the reception window. He stuck his head underneath the glass. The receptionist pointed to the agents. This was him. Ella and Byford stood up to announce themselves.

  “Hello, Professor Casey?” she asked, reaching out her hand. Casey took it with an unenthusiastic grip.

  “Hi. Can I help you? You’re with the FBI?”

  He looked a timid soul. Very much on the short side with brief whispers of gray hair on his head. He had a faded goatee that resembled a style from a previous era.

  “Sorry for the intrusion, but we’d like to talk to you about Daniel Garcia if you’d be willing.”

  Professor Casey’s face fell flat when he heard the name. “Oh. You’re here about that. I already told the police everything.”

  “This is something new,” Ella said. “Garcia is a suspect in a new crime, and we were hoping you could help us track him down.”

  “Track him down? Well, I don’t know about that. I just know I never want to see that kid again. Last I heard he was living with his mom. Her name’s Elaine and lives somewhere in Elsmere. That’s all I know.”

  Ella made her notes. “Thank you, professor. Do you have a moment to talk us through what happened?”

  The professor checked his watch. “I really don’t, I’m in a hurry. I can give you the short version but anything more will have to be done another time.”

  It was better than nothing, Ella thought. “Of course, we understand. The short version would be great.”

  “Daniel was a bright kid. Exceptionally bright, actually. He had incredible potential and I pushed him to utilize it. But he had a nasty streak to him. His home life wasn’t perfect, and that came through in his work.”

  “I see,” Ella said.

  “For his final thesis, he wrote a paper on ancient mythology with a heavy focus on a particular part of it.”

  “Santeria, right?” Ella asked.

  “Correct. Santeria. The paper was well-written and researched to exceptional levels, but it was…” Professor Casey scratched his head as he searched for the word. “Transgressive. Sensational. He wrote like a sympathizer of atrocities. I couldn’t accept it, and when he found out I’d rejected him, he showed up after hours with a knife.”

  Ella and Byford exchanged a look. “He tried to stab you?”

  Professor Casey nodded. “Yes. He aimed for my throat. I managed to skirt him, but it was difficult. Daniel is very agile. Very sneaky. He was expelled soon after.”

  “Did you press charges?” Byford asked.

  “No. Daniel is a product of his home life. It’s not his fault he grew up to be violent. The fact he found solace in this sinister faith is concerning and pressing charges against him would have angered him further. I was terrified he’d come back for me, so I didn’t want to rattle the cage so to speak.”

  As far as Ella was concerned, they had everything they needed. This guy had some explaining to do. “Thank you so much professor. That’s all I have to ask.”

  “I really must be running now, but if you need to know anything else, simply call the university.”

  The agents shook the man’s hand and said their goodbyes. They headed back out the door, picking up speed as they did.

  “Let’s find this guy. Looks like we need to find an Elaine Garcia around here.”

  Ella had a good feeling about this. Something told her she needed to meet this young man. “My thoughts exactly. Let’s find this guy.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ella drove a little faster than she should have. According to the database, there was only one Elaine Garcia in the area. Sheriff Hunter texted over her address. It was a six-mile journey that Ella covered in half the time it should have taken.

  “Jesus, this place is… something,” Ella said.

  The street consisted of one tight road and two rows of houses. On one of the fences, the homeowner had hung out their dirty washing for everyone to see. One of the houses didn’t have a front door, just a hole where it should be.

  “Are we in the right place?” asked Byford. “I hate to generalize but I can’t see a kid around here going to college.”

  “College is cheap until you leave,” Ella said.

  “I suppose. Here,” Byford pointed. “Number nineteen.”

  Ella pulled up on the curb outside the home. It had a small porch, tattered to ruin, and a flight of steps that looked on the verge of collapse. The whole house was painted a charcoal gray that did nothing to disguise the waning exterior. Across the street, a young kid on a bike observed their intrusion.

  Ella gave three knocks on the door. A dog began yapping on the other side before she’d even finished. Then came the sound of h
uman life on the other side. A woman’s face appeared between the cracks, but Ella couldn’t make out much about her.

  “Hi, Elaine Garcia?”

  The woman sniffed loudly. “Who’s asking?”

  “The FBI. I’m Agent Dark and this is Agent Byford…”

  “FBI?” she shouted with a piercing shrill. “What gives you the right to come here?”

  “We’re here to speak with your son,” Byford added.

  “You’ll need to tell me more than that, pal. I got six of them.”

  “Daniel Garcia,” Ella said. “Is he home?”

  “Danny don’t live here no more,” Elaine said and shut the door. Ella had it scouted. She thrust her foot in the door gap.

  “Well, could you tell us where he is?”

  Elaine looked down at Ella’s foot like it was an artifact from another planet. She pushed the door against it harder to keep her out. It was only a moderate amount of pain, but it brought the adrenaline to the surface.

  “These boots weren’t made for walking, Mrs. Garcia. Please tell us where your son is.”

  Elaine relieved the pressure and opened the door up. She glanced between like the agents like she was waiting for them to make the first move. “I don’t know where he is. That little runt could be anywhere by now.”

  “How do you mean? We were under the impression he lived with you.”

  “What’s this about? What’s he done now?”

  “We can’t say. It’s confidential. But if you help us find him, then we might be able to give you the details.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that? You want me to whistle for him?” Elaine said.

  “Don’t you have his phone number?” asked Byford. “Seems unlikely that you wouldn’t.”

  “Danny upped and left after his little fight last year. I haven’t seen the dickhead since. Okay?” She tried to slam the door again, but Ella’s foot was still lodged in place. “You wanna leave me alone now? I can’t help you.”

  Elaine’s tone didn’t sit right with Ella. There were cracks in her voice, like she was reluctant to spill the words she did. If Mia was here, she’d say it was a telltale sign of lying. Ella decided to go for broke.