Who was this girl?
She studied the contours and shape of her face; eyes set neatly apart, nose not too big or too small. Absently, she rubbed her lips together, watching the lipstick slowly fade. She wondered if her hair was too light, too brown, and should be worn loose around her shoulders instead of twisted up, pinned with her favorite sparkly barrette.
Did it really matter?
There was nothing left.
Tess slipped a retractable razor blade from her pant pocket—staring at it, contemplating what she wanted to do with it. How would it feel against her skin? Her neck? Would it hurt? How long would she stay conscious if she cut too deep? She pushed her thumb against the blade, moving it in the light to cast shapes on the bathroom wall and wondering whether or not to take her own life.
Ten
Wednesday 1325 hours
Even though she hadn’t spoken to Amanda yet, Katie was slowly beginning to create a preliminary profile of the perpetrator in her case. If this person who had taken Amanda against her will really existed then the kidnapper was someone who had a heightened sense of predatory behavior.
In the file, Windham had written out Amanda’s account of what had happened the night she was taken. She left the grocery store and was sure that no one was around or had followed her. It was late, just before closing, and the parking lot was mostly deserted. She unlocked her car and just as she was about to get inside someone grabbed her from behind, overpowering her and taping her mouth and eyes before dragging her to another vehicle. She believed that she was put inside a trunk and driven to the location that she had escaped from. Her car was later towed and impounded. According to the paperwork, she had paid the fee to retrieve her car seven days after the initial report was filed.
Katie started to list out a rough idea of the abductor’s profile. Nothing was set in stone, but it helped her to see the behavior evidence and pertinent questions more clearly—allowing for updates and changes when necessary.
Predatory Behavior versus Opportunistic Behavior (most likely PB).
Male. Age? 30-45?
Previous? Unknown at this time. Not enough information. (NEI)
Educated? Not necessarily. (NEI)
Clever. Devious.
Organized. Prepared. Quick/Efficient. Practiced?
Planned? Had tools/tape, car, and abandoned location.
Fantasy oriented? From childhood? Adolescence? From own received mental/physical abuse?
Skimming through the report again, Katie read that Deputy Windham stated Amanda claimed she was tied to a bed, and that the man had taken the tape from her mouth but not from her eyes and repeatedly whispered into her ear phrases like, “you want to tell me the truth” and “tell me your secrets” and “the truth.” After the man left, she claimed she yelled for hours to no avail, but she could hear faint sounds of traffic in the distance.
Katie added to the list:
Signature—Bondage. Taped victim’s eyes. Women in distress—at his mercy.
Whispers to victim—to hide identity? Or, part of his fantasy?
Truth? Meaning? Perpetrator’s fantasy? Wanting confessions?
Taken somewhere remote—no one heard her screams. No indication of soundproofing: traffic sounds.
She was found near Basin Woods Development—abandoned housing area slated for tear down and rebuild—county in stalemate over budget. (Further Research)
Kept her eyes covered—Abductor didn’t want his identity known and/perhaps didn’t want to look in her eyes.
Traffic/cars? Rural enough where no one heard screams, but traffic could be heard? (Need Research)
Katie stood with her hands on her hips reading the list. She tilted her head to one side and wondered if it was a crime of opportunity—whether Amanda was selected or just was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Was it someone she knew? Or someone she came into contact with regularly at work, home or in her spare time? As a nurse she’d spend the majority of time at the hospital working shifts, but that hardly narrowed the field with constantly changing employees, patients, and contractors.
Pulling out a county map, Katie estimated that is was approximately five miles from Amanda’s apartment to the hospital. She drew a five-mile radius around the hospital and apartment and studied what was included within; mostly residential areas, shopping malls, and several office buildings. She let out a sigh.
Logging off her computer, she grabbed her jacket and briefcase and headed towards the exit. She peeked into one of the examination rooms as she passed, seeing John deeply immersed, staring into the eyepiece of a microscope, his body completely still. She was going to say goodbye, but decided not to interrupt him.
Out of the building and into her car, she reminded herself of the last known address for Emily Day from her arrest record, which was located at 543 Forest Avenue, apartment #10.
After winding her way through Pine Valley for almost fifteen minutes, she finally took a left turn onto Forest Avenue and found the apartment building at 543. It was pretty with carefully tended shrubs and intricate black wrought-iron fencing. The full bloom of a bright pink bougainvillea climbing up the side of the building was quite spectacular, reminding Katie of an English country garden she had once seen in a magazine. It was beautiful and extremely inviting to anyone who happened to visit.
Katie found a parking space on the street and quickly made her way to the apartment building, the aroma of fresh flowers like a sweet and citrus cup of herbal tea. From what Katie could ascertain, there were eight small apartments on the ground floor and four larger apartments on the second level. The #10 apartment was located upstairs, so Katie took the metal staircase on the side of the building and rehearsed a few things in her mind that she would ask Emily—and Amanda, if indeed she was staying with her friend.
Katie pressed the doorbell. At first, she didn’t think there was anyone home until she heard footsteps slowly approaching. The door opened a few inches and an attractive woman with dark hair peered through the crack. With relief, Katie immediately recognized Amanda Payton from the photograph in her file.
“Yes?” she said quietly as her eyes darted around and then rested on Katie.
“Amanda Payton?” Katie said gently.
The woman’s eyes grew bigger at the sound of her name; it was clear that she had been crying from the smudge of makeup beneath them.
“Ms. Payton, I’m Detective Katie Scott from the sheriff’s office. May I have a moment to speak with you?”
“What about?” she said, though her tone indicated that she already knew.
Katie glanced around. “I think it would be best if we spoke inside. May I come in?”
Amanda stared at her for a few tense moments as if contemplating what to do. Tears welled up in her eyes. “No. I won’t be called a liar again.” She slammed the door shut and locked it.
Katie blinked at the door. It was clear that Amanda was still quite distraught and scared, and that she knew that the sheriff’s department wasn’t exactly on her side. But Katie wasn’t going to walk away. There was something to Amanda’s story, and she was going to try to get to the bottom of it. Taking a breath, she knocked on the door again.
No answer.
She knocked again, harder this time.
“Please, Amanda. I’d really like to speak with you. We can figure this whole thing out—together.”
There was some movement inside, but the door remained shut.
Katie hung her head and tried to think how she would feel if something that terrible had happened to her and the police let her down. “Amanda, you don’t have to talk to me. I won’t force you,” she said. “But I want to help you. And I do believe you.”
Nothing.
Katie glanced around, leaned in closer and lowered her voice, sensing that Amanda was just on the other side, still listening. “I know what it’s like to be scared. I went through a lot in the military and I’ve only just been able to start working again. It’s scary. I keep fighting with myself—
internally—about whether or not I’m going to be able to handle it all. But here I am.”
She waited.
“Amanda, at least let me try to help you.”
Katie was just about to turn and leave when she heard the rattle of locks and then the door opened a few inches.
“I suppose you’re not going to take no for an answer,” Amanda said.
“Please, I only have a few questions,” Katie replied.
Amanda gestured for Katie to come inside, where she could hear someone humming above the sound of a hairdryer.
“Is Emily here?”
“She’s about to leave.”
Katie perched on a straight-backed chair in the living room, leaning slightly forward and keeping her focus on Amanda. It was obvious that the woman was nervous as she fidgeted about the room before settling down on the couch next to a wooden end table. On it was a vintage lamp, a small beaded purse, a box of Kleenex, a small water glass, and two prescription bottles.
The living room was small and led into an open kitchen. The furniture, two chairs and a couch, were all different in material and print, which gave an eclectic vibe. There was a neatly folded quilt and pillow on one end of the couch, which was obviously where Amanda slept.
Katie began, “Ms. Payton, I’m here about your case and I wanted to ask some follow-up questions. If you’re up to it?” She knew that she had to move forward slowly to allow Amanda to open up in her own time.
“Okay.”
“I read the deputy and detective’s reports but I wanted to ask you a couple of questions of my own, especially now that some time has passed.”
“I… I… can still hear his voice in my head. It’s always there,” Amanda interrupted.
“Did he seem to know you?”
“What do you mean?”
Katie treaded lightly and said, “Well, like did he know about things in your life, where you worked, the things you liked, or where you hung out?” She waited patiently.
“Well… I’m not sure…” Her face turned pale as if she had never thought about that before.
“Please, just take your time and think about it.”
Amanda sat quietly, not really focusing on anything around the apartment as her gaze wandered. “Maybe he did mention something about my job.”
“Like?”
“Like, it didn’t pay enough. Nursing wasn’t a good fit for someone like me. He kept telling me to tell him the truth, as if everything I said to him was a lie.” Her voice wavered.
Katie took her small field notebook from her jacket pocket. “Did he remind you of anyone you worked with at the hospital?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Are you still employed there?”
“No. I quit a while ago. I didn’t feel safe. I started feeling like he might be watching me.”
“What do you mean?” Katie asked.
“I felt someone was following me, watching as I came and went. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“Did you ever see anyone suspicious?”
“I don’t know. It might just be me, but I feel like he’s around every corner… I can’t live like this…”
“What about your apartment? Maybe someone you’ve seen coming and going from there?”
“No. I… I don’t think so…”
“Is there anyone who might want to hurt you? Or anyone that has ever threatened you before or since then?” Katie pushed. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask these questions. Maybe you might remember someone, an incident, something that didn’t seem important at the time, but maybe now might.”
Amanda sighed and said, “No. I’ve wracked my brain but I can’t think who would do something like that?” she said, almost on the verge of crying.
“The report said that you were tied up for about a week. Five or six days? Is that correct?”
“Yes. I… I think it was five, maybe six days. I’m not exactly sure. It was hard to know the amount of days—when it was day or night. It seemed like a lifetime.” She hesitated, taking a deep breath. “I really don’t know why you’re here asking all these questions. I’ve answered these already. Do you have any suspects?” she countered.
“No, but I’m looking into your case,” Katie said. “During the entire time you were held, you never once saw his face? Not even a glimpse?”
She shook her head and shuddered at the very thought of him. “No.”
Katie made a couple of notes about Amanda’s answers and her obvious still terrified demeanor.
“Why are you dragging all this back up again? Do you at least have any new leads?” Amanda sat back in fear. “Did another woman come forward? Or worse…”
“I need to gather all the information that I can get from every possible source,” Katie said gently, trying to keep her voice calm and to maintain Amanda’s focus. “Amanda, I’m on your side. I want to find the person that did this.”
“You didn’t answer me. Did another woman come forward?” she asked directly.
“No,” Katie replied. “But I’m going to be looking into other cases for any similarities to your case, so that’s why I need to know every little thing that you can remember. Anything that will help me.”
“D-did he kill someone?” Her body trembled as she ignored Katie’s answer.
“There haven’t been any homicides that would indicate a link. You or any other woman should never be afraid because of what he did—and I’m going to do everything I can to catch him for you.”
Amanda’s eyes filled with tears as she nodded, appearing to understand what Katie was telling her.
“Is there anything you can remember that’s not in your report—no matter how small it might seem to you.” Katie reverted back to her field training and how important it was to use all the senses. “Smells? Something you might’ve touched? Any little sound? Anything at all?”
“I don’t know—I told the deputy everything,” she said. “But… maybe there was this smell, like spring, or something.”
“What do you mean?” Katie asked.
“Flowers. Honeysuckle or lilac, something like that. Wait, no, it was jasmine. I’m sure of it.”
“Was there a window open? It was still summer. Or was it only when the man was there, like he was wearing cologne or used a particular soap?”
Amanda’s mood suddenly changed, shaken by Katie’s probing questions, at being forced to take herself back to that moment. “I can’t talk to you—I can’t keep going back to that time. There’s nothing more I can tell you that I haven’t already told the police. Please… please just go.”
Katie rose from the chair. “Amanda, I assure you that I’m going to do everything I can to catch this man.”
“So how many police officers are working my case? Huh?” She paused, waiting for the hint of a response from Katie. “It’s just you, isn’t it?” Tears welled up in her eyes again.
“For now, I’m working your case, but I can assure you that I have more detectives at my disposal.” Katie knew that she was stretching the truth a bit, but she needed to gain Amanda’s confidence. She was doing everything she could, and would continue to do so.
“Detective Scott, is it? Please leave.” Her voice was now stern.
Katie wanted to reassure her in every way possible, but she was just as concerned as Amanda was about this man still roaming for potential victims. She reached into her pocket and retrieved a business card. “My personal cell is on the back. If you think of anything or just need someone to talk to, please don’t hesitate to call me.” She put the card on the small end table next to the prescription bottles. She couldn’t see the name of the type of medication.
Amanda fought back tears with her arms crossed in front of her, hugging herself for dear life.
Katie was going to say something more, but realized that there was nothing left to say. She had done everything she could—at least for now.
When Katie reached the front door, Amanda’s quiet voice stopped her before she turned the knob
.
“He said that I would never be without him. That he would come for me. And I know that he will eventually kill me. I’m getting everything together to leave California and move to Idaho, where I have a cousin that has agreed to help me, and take me in until I get back on my feet. I’m changing my name.”
“I know there’s no reason for you to believe me, but I will catch him. So for now, please stay around people like your friend Emily here. Don’t go out at night. Don’t go anywhere alone. I will contact the patrol sergeant who oversees this area and ask him to have officers drive by here on a regular basis.” She paused. “Take care of yourself. I’ll be in touch.”
Eleven
Wednesday 1830 hours
Katie hurried to the entrance of the 1893 Gideon Historic Building. The three-story brick building had been an old hotel and boarding house in the late 1800s and through the 1920s and contrasted with the rest of the downtown block of modern offices. She stepped up on to the creaky porch and entered the main area, admiring the ornate staircase in the center, and taking in the original light sconces and crown molding as she walked across the antique hardwood floors.
Although it was difficult to completely shut out her Amanda Payton investigation, she wanted to enjoy a couple of hours with her uncle. It had been their tradition for many years—as long as she could remember—to spend one afternoon every month roaming around various art exhibitions. They’d been lucky to get tickets for this special black-and-white photography exhibit sponsored by several top film and local entertainment companies.
As her eyes adjusted to the low lighting in the gallery, the soothing classical music playing in the background made Katie relax for the first time in days. She didn’t immediately search for her uncle, but rather, allowed herself to become captivated by the outdoor scenes depicted in the photos. The series was titled Stepping Outside and showed many landscapes, buildings, random people, and close-ups of various objects found outside. Her instant favorite was an image of an old porch, which was slightly skewed giving it an otherworldly view. The building had been halfway restored and you could see the old and new; the dilapidated wood and peeling paint in stark contrast to the new boards with shiny nails.
Her Last Whisper: An absolutely unputdownable crime thriller (Detective Katie Scott Book 2) Page 5