Her Winter of Darkness

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Her Winter of Darkness Page 3

by Melinda Woodhall

She stepped into the hall, almost colliding with Dave Eddings.

  “Here she is, Chief,” the young man said, his face flushed as he turned to present Veronica, who was following close behind him.

  “Sorry to interrupt you, Nessa, but this can’t wait.” Veronica’s voice was strained. “I have information about a missing person.”

  Nodding at Eddings, Nessa put a hand on Veronica’s arm.

  “That’s all, Dave. You can go now.”

  The officer disappeared down the hall just as a deep voice spoke behind Nessa. Agent Marlowe stood in the briefing room doorway.

  “Thought we’d take a break while you’re busy out here,” Marlowe said, stopping short when he saw Veronica.

  Nessa decided good manners prevailed, even when time was short.

  “Agent Marlowe, this is Veronica Lee, an investigative reporter with Channel Ten News. Veronica, this is Special Agent Clint Marlowe with the FBI.”

  Marlowe raised his eyebrows at the formal introduction, but gave Veronica a curt nod.

  “I’ve seen your work, Ms. Lee.”

  “And I’ve heard about your trafficking task force, Agent Marlowe,” Veronica replied, looking over Marlowe’s shoulder into the briefing room. “Does this mean the WBPD is now officially partnering with the FBI?”

  Figuring the news would spread quickly around the small town, and that the FBI’s presence in Willow bay would be hard to conceal, Nessa knew it would be pointless to deny it.

  “Nothing’s official unless it comes out of our media relations office,” Nessa replied cautiously, trying to gauge Marlowe’s reaction. “But off the record I can confirm that the WBPD is cooperating with the FBI as part of the larger national effort to combat trafficking.”

  “That’s what I’d heard from my sources,” Veronica said, nodding her approval. “And I’m glad Willow Bay is finally getting some serious attention, but right now I need to talk to you about something else that can’t wait.”

  “Sounds like my cue to leave,” Marlowe said. “I’ll go get a cup of coffee and leave you to it.”

  Veronica reached out a hand to stop the agent before he could move away down the hall.

  “Actually, you might be the one I should be talking to, Agent Marlowe,” she said, dropping her hand to reach into her purse. “You see, someone posted a comment to the Channel Ten message board.”

  Pulling out a piece of printer paper, Veronica held it toward Marlowe. The agent took the paper and scanned it. His expression didn’t change as he looked up and handed the paper to Nessa.

  The words on the page sent a shiver up Nessa’s spine.

  “According to the FBI’s missing person website, Astrid Peterson was a foreign exchange student from Sweden. She disappeared from a college campus in Montana almost two years ago.”

  Veronica’s voice was grim.

  “As far as I can tell, she’s never been heard from since.”

  Nessa read the words on the printout again, then looked up at Veronica. Doubt creased her forehead into a frown.

  “Could this be some kind of…of…”

  “Some kind of sick joke?” Veronica finished for her. “I guess it could be, but that’s not what it feels like to me.”

  Veronica’s voice wavered, betraying her distress as she continued.

  “I’ve interviewed quite a few abused and exploited women during my trafficking investigation, and this sounds all too real.”

  She looked to Marlowe.

  “We can’t just dismiss the claim without at least trying to find out if it has some merit, can we, Agent Marlowe?”

  “Of course not,” he replied without hesitation, taking out his phone. “I’ll take a picture of the comment and send it over to the Bureau. We’ll get the right person working on this right away.”

  Surprised by the agent’s quick reaction, Nessa put a soft hand on Veronica’s shoulder. She wasn’t ready to pass this one off to the feds so quickly.

  “I’ll ask Detectives Jankowski and Vanzinger to look into it, as well,” she said. “If Astrid Peterson did write those words, she chose to reach out to our local news station for help. I want to know why.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  It was lunchtime when Nessa finally stepped out of the briefing room and headed to her office. She turned a corner to see Detective Peyton Bell standing in the hall outside an interview room.

  Willow Bay’s newest detective greeted Nessa with a distracted smile, her face tense as she prepared to open the door.

  “Where’s Detective Ingram?” Nessa asked as she approached. “Don’t tell me he called in sick again.”

  “I almost wish he had.” Peyton rolled her eyes. “He’s in there interviewing a girl picked up for shoplifting earlier today. Let’s just say it isn’t going very well.”

  Checking her watch, Nessa was tempted to let the detective handle the matter without her help, but something about Peyton’s choice of words stopped her.

  Willow Bay’s only female detective didn’t make a habit of asking for help. If she’d raised a problem to Nessa’s attention, even casually, it was probably something important.

  “Okay, what’s going on?”

  The blunt question seemed to catch Peyton off guard. She combed nervous fingers through her dark pixie cut, obviously hesitant to say anything that might cause further discord between her and her partner.

  Nessa didn’t blame her. Detective Marc Ingram wasn’t easy to work with on the best of days. If he thought Peyton was complaining about him to his boss, he would make his partner’s job very difficult.

  Silently cursing Mayor Hadley for bringing Ingram back into the department after she’d fired him for gross negligence, Nessa offered Peyton a reassuring smile.

  “Tell me what’s really bothering you. Don’t worry about Ingram.”

  “It’s not Ingram I’m worried about,” Peyton replied with a shake of her head. “I’m worried about Ruby Chase.”

  Nessa cocked an eyebrow.

  “Who’s Ruby Chase?”

  “She’s the girl in there with Ingram.” Peyton’s amber eyes glinted with anger as she looked toward the door. “He’s giving her a hard time because he doesn’t buy her story, but I’m not sure she’s lying.”

  Resisting the urge to look at her watch again, Nessa nodded.

  “Okay, so what’s her story?”

  “A convenience store on the west side detained her for shoplifting, and the uniforms that picked her up say she resisted arrest. Apparently, she started yelling about men chasing her.”

  Nessa raised her eyebrows.

  “I don’t understand why you guys caught the case. As far as I remember, shoplifting isn’t a major crime.”

  “No, but trafficking in narcotics is,” Peyton replied with a sigh. “The girl had quite a stash on her when she was booked. She insists the drugs aren’t hers. Says she was transporting them for the men who were chasing her. Claims these guys were forcing her and other girls to make deliveries. Ingram’s convinced she’s making it up.”

  An uneasy feeling settled in Nessa’s already upset stomach.

  “And you’re trying to figure out if she’s a criminal or a victim?”

  “Exactly.”

  Wishing she’d taken the time to eat breakfast that morning, Nessa decided lunch would have to wait a little while longer.

  “You go join the interview. I’ll watch from behind the glass.”

  She headed toward the observation room next door. She wanted to see for herself if Ruby Chase was lying.

  Chapter Four

  Peyton Bell opened the door without knocking and slipped silently into the interview room. Ingram didn’t look up as she sank onto the chair next to him. He kept his small, close-set eyes fixed on the silent girl sitting across the old wooden table.

  “So, tell me again. Why’d you spend time strolling around a store shopping if you were in fear for your life? Why not call the police?”

  Jet black eyeliner and a thick coat of mascara made Ruby Cha
se appear older than her eighteen years. Peyton studied the stubborn set to her small pointed chin and imagined she could still see a trace of the little girl Ruby had been only a few years before.

  “I was hungry,” Ruby muttered. “And why should I run to the cops? I knew you guys would never believe me.”

  “You took the food because you were hungry?” Peyton asked, ignoring the razor-sharp glare Ingram threw in her direction. “Why hadn’t you eaten?”

  Ruby’s blood-shot eyes shifted to Peyton.

  “Ask him.” She pointed a listless finger at Ingram. “I’ve already told him the whole story, but he thinks I’m lying.”

  “So, tell me,” Peyton said, leaning closer. “What happened?”

  Drawing in a shaky breath, Ruby folded her arms over her chest. Peyton noted multiple bruises and scratches but didn’t see any track marks. She kept her expression neutral as Ruby began to speak.

  “Diablo’s men were busy unloading a big truck this morning and left the gate open, so I took off while I had the chance. I was trying to stay out of sight, but I got hungry. And it was cold outside. I thought the store would be warm.”

  “Who’s Diablo?”

  Peyton felt Ingram tense beside her. She knew he wanted to be the one asking questions. He didn’t like her jumping in and taking over.

  “Diablo’s the boss, I guess,” Ruby said with a shrug of her small shoulders. “You know, the head honcho. Everybody there was scared shitless of the guy.”

  “Can you describe him?”

  Clenching his fist on the table, Ingram turned to Peyton.

  “Thank you, Officer Bell, but I’ll ask the questions from here on out if you don’t mind.”

  Peyton lifted her hands in mock surrender, hiding her anger at his outburst. It was never acceptable to argue in front of a suspect. The thought raised the question that kept playing in Peyton’s mind.

  Is Ruby Chase a suspect, or is she a victim?

  Studying the girl’s pale face, Peyton was inclined to trust her own instincts. Ruby’s story had stayed consistent, and underneath the tough act, Peyton could see she was truly scared.

  A rap on the door stopped Ingram’s next words.

  Nessa appeared in the doorway, her face drawn and serious under the harsh overhead lights of the little room. She motioned for Peyton and Ingram to join her in the hall.

  “You trying to ruin this interview?” Ingram hissed as soon as the door had shut behind him. “I was about to get a confession, and-”

  “Be quiet, Detective Ingram,” Nessa snapped. “I’ve been watching the interview and it’s clear your technique is not working with this interview subject. We need to gain her confidence, so she’ll share any details she knows about the men who supplied her with the drugs.”

  A red flush spread over Ingram’s thin face. His eyes narrowed into angry slits as he looked back and forth between Nessa and Peyton.

  “Fine. You two play softball with this street kid and see where that gets you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Spinning on his heel, Ingram strode down the hall and out of sight. Peyton watched him go with a mixture of relief and dread. He was gone for now, but Ingram was still her partner, and she knew the matter was far from over for him.

  “Ruby Chase mentioned a man named Diablo,” Nessa said, obviously not too concerned about Ingram’s angry departure. “We’ve got to find out who this guy is.”

  The police chief checked her watch as she spoke in a hurried voice.

  “If this Diablo guy really exists, and if he is the head honcho of a group of men trafficking in drugs and girls like Ruby claims, we may be able to do more than just support the FBI with Operation Stolen Angels. We could be the department to successfully close it out.”

  “Operation Stolen Angels?” Peyton frowned at Nessa. “Is that what Jankowski and Vanzinger have been working on with the FBI?”

  Lowering her voice, Nessa gave a reluctant nod.

  “That’s the name they’ve given the trafficking task force,” she admitted. “But I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want information about the operation shared outside the assigned team.”

  Peyton swallowed back more questions. She would love to be assigned to the joint operation with the FBI, but she knew Nessa would never assign her and Ingram to the task force. In fact, Peyton was sure Nessa had been thinking of Ingram when she’d said she didn’t want information shared outside the team.

  “You go back in there and try to gain Ruby Chase’s confidence,” Nessa said, already moving down the hall. “And let me know what you can find out about Diablo.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Ruby kept her head down when Peyton entered the little room. She had curled up on the chair, pulling her legs under her and wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to get warm, even though the building was well heated against the chilly day outside.

  “Detective Ingram had to take care of another case,” Peyton said, keeping her voice neutral. “So, now it’s just you and me.”

  Waiting for a reaction, Peyton noticed a slight tremor in Ruby’s hands. She thought about the bag of pills found on the girl when she’d been booked.

  The bag had been sent to the lab for testing, but Peyton figured it likely contained Oxycodone or Hydrocodone. Both drugs were highly addictive, and sudden withdrawal could be agonizing.

  “How long have you been hooked?”

  When Ruby didn’t respond, Peyton tried again.

  “Did you start taking pills before or after you got mixed up with this gang? Is that how you ended up there? Did they offer you pills?”

  “Sure, blame the victim,” Ruby muttered. “That’s what Diablo’s men said you’d do. Guess they know how the system works.”

  Trying to catch Ruby’s eyes, Peyton leaned forward.

  “I’m not blaming anyone, Ruby. But it looks to me like you need help, and I can’t help you if I don’t know what happened.”

  Ruby glanced over at Peyton. The pain on her pale face confirmed Peyton’s suspicions; the girl was an addict, and she was scared.

  “If you tell me the truth, I promise I’ll do whatever I can to get you help. Now, where did you get the drugs?”

  Dropping her eyes, Ruby swallowed hard before answering.

  “I was helping load the truck, like I said before, and I took my chance to get out. I just stuck the bag I was holding in my pocket.”

  “Okay. So, where’d you go after you ran out?” Peyton asked. “I mean, you ran through the gate and then what?”

  Ruby hesitated, as if trying to remember.

  Or maybe she’s thinking up another lie.

  A sheen of sweat began to form on Ruby’s forehead as Peyton waited for a response, and the tremor in her hands worsened.

  “The place was in the middle of nowhere,” Ruby finally said in a hoarse whisper. “It was like a prison compound or something. There was even barbed wire on the fence, and all the doors had locks on the outside.”

  Dropping her feet to the floor, Ruby sat up straight in her chair. Her hands tightened into fists on top of the wooden table.

  “When I ran out, I was in some kind of forest. I couldn’t hear anyone shouting or chasing after me, but I was scared. I ran through the trees until I got to a little road.”

  Her voice faltered, as if she was finding it hard to remember.

  “I…I followed the road until…well, until I found a place to hide out. But I got hungry. That’s when I went to the store.”

  Trying to keep the skepticism out of her voice, Peyton nodded.

  “Okay, so you took some food at the store, and that’s when you were stopped for shoplifting. Why didn’t you ask for help then? Were you afraid they’d find the drugs?”

  Ruby shook her head in frustration.

  “No, I forgot all about the bag in my pocket,” she said, pushing a strand of dark hair off her damp forehead. “But I was scared the people in the store might know Diablo. That they might call him, and that his m
en would come for me.”

  “But…why would the people at the store know Diablo?”

  The words came out sounding more like an accusation than a question, and Peyton winced as Ruby turned away.

  “I’m sorry, Ruby. What I meant was, what made you suspect the people at the store would know Diablo or his men?”

  “The other girls said Diablo knew everyone in town.”

  Her words sent a ripple of concern through Peyton.

  “How many other girls were at this…this compound?”

  Ruby shrugged.

  “I don’t know. Girls would come one day and be gone the next.”

  “And they told you Diablo knows lots of people in Willow Bay?”

  A shadow crossed Ruby’s face as she looked up at Peyton, holding her gaze as if searching for some truth in the detective’s eyes.

  “They said Diablo had people working for him everywhere,” she finally said. “They said he even had some cops working for him.”

  Recoiling at the girl’s words, Peyton sat back in her chair, stunned at the possibility she’d gotten caught up in another case where the integrity of the force was in question.

  She tried to hide her dismay, but the memories washed through her, and she had to drop her eyes and turn away.

  Her first job as a police officer had been with the WBPD, but it had ended in shame and regret after she’d witnessed an innocent man go to jail. She’d decided to leave the department rather than speak up against the corrupt detectives in the department, and that mistake had taken its toll. Some days she still struggled to stay sober.

  But now she was back in Willow Bay and working for the WBPD as a detective. Nessa Ainsley had taken over as the chief of police, and she ran a clean department. This time things were different. Everything had been going well.

  Peyton had even made peace with the man who had been wrongly convicted because of her silence. The thought of Frankie Dawson serving time in prison brought a hot flush of shame to her face, and Peyton stood and crossed to the door.

  “I’ll get us some water,” she said in a hoarse voice, not meeting Ruby’s eyes. “I’ll be back.”

  Once outside the door, Peyton leaned against the wall and forced herself to take a deep breath. The need for a drink was overwhelming, and water wasn’t going to quench the kind of thirst she had.

 

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