Her Winter of Darkness

by Melinda Woodhall

  Editing the message, he tried to reassure her, while giving nothing away that might reveal their location or plan of attack to Locke.

  Your mother is safe. Send me a text each hour if you can so I know you’re okay. We will be together soon. Love you, too.

  He tapped Send, then watched until the word Delivered appeared beside the text. He waited, hoping to see the word change to Read.

  “Let’s get going,” Santino said, starting the Chevy’s engine. “We’re five hours behind them, but at least we know they’re in a semi now, and we know they’re heading toward Kansas.”

  Hunter sat forward in his seat, watching as the snow began to fall harder. He frowned up at the bleak Kentucky sky, then scrolled to the weather app on his phone.

  It looked like the weather ahead was going to get a lot colder, and the snow would only get heavier.

  “I haven’t been in snow for a while,” Hunter said, his eyes still on his phone. “I grew up in Florida, so I never did get used to it.”

  “I have a feeling Locke might end up taking us a lot further north than we’d like. Like maybe as far north as you can go in the US.”

  Santino glanced at Hunter as they sped along the icy interstate.

  “Astrid Peterson was abducted in Montana,” he said, turning his eyes back to the road. “And if my calculations are correct, we seem to be headed in that direction.”

  Shaking his head, Hunter looked out the window at the increasingly white landscape whipping by and shuddered. He wouldn’t want to be out in the cold running around. Cold weather had never been his thing.

  “Damn, the signal’s gone again.”

  Wincing at Santino’s words, Hunter dropped his eyes to his phone, a sense of dread filling his chest as they sped through the snow.

  His message to Veronica was still unread.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Nessa nursed a bottle of water and tried to keep her eyes open and focused on the whiteboard. She’d asked Vanzinger and Jankowski to come in early to brief her ahead of the next interview they had scheduled with Garth Bixby.

  She hadn’t had any time off over the weekend, and it felt like it should be Friday afternoon, rather than Monday morning. Another week was starting, and a dizzying array of cases was still open and unsolved.

  “We can conclude from the recording found at Mackenzie Jensen’s house that the man who killed her and abducted Veronica Lee has been working with Donovan Locke,” Jankowski said, drawing a line between the suspects’ names he’d written on the whiteboard.

  “Right, and our friends in the state cybercrime lab had no problem getting into Mackenzie’s laptop,” Vanzinger added. “She received an email with the information on Ling Lee last week. They’re trying to track down the sender, but it was sent using an anonymous account, so it looks like a dead end.”

  “And what about your initial interrogation of Garth Bixby?” Nessa asked, stifling a yawn. “Did you guys get him to open up? Did he say anything interesting I should know about before we get in there?”

  Folding his thick arms over his chest, Jankowski shot a frustrated look at Vanzinger, who just sighed and shook his head.

  “We tried everything to get him to break,” Vanzinger admitted, raking a big hand through his red crewcut. “I tried to buddy up to him, and Jank played the bad cop as usual, but Bixby didn’t budge.”

  Nessa thought about the slimy campaign manager. Based on what they’d found out about his extramarital activities, he was likely well-practiced in deception.

  “It seems Garth Bixby is an expert at sticking to his story in the face of all evidence to the contrary,” Nessa said. “But for this next interview, I’ve asked someone to join us who just might be able to help break him.”

  Standing up and stretching, Nessa walked to the door.

  “In fact, our special interrogator should already be here. I’ll ask the desk sergeant to send her back.”

  “And Bixby’s already in interview room three.” Jankowksi cracked his knuckles as if preparing for a fight. “I’ll go get him warmed up.”

  Nessa picked up the phone and connected to the front desk

  “Can you escort Barbie Bixby back to interview room three?” she asked, then put the handset back on the base.

  Taking another long sip of water, she prepared herself for the interrogation. If Garth Bixby really was Diablo, she needed to get him to tell her where he’d taken Veronica, and what he knew about Tenley Frost’s abduction. The lives of both women may count on it.

  Garth Bixby sat at the interview table in a pristine shirt and tie. He was wearing his usual smile when Nessa entered.

  “Where’s your lawyer, Mr. Bixby?” Nessa asked, looking at the empty chair beside him. “If you don’t have one, I can make arrangements to have the court appoint one for you.”

  “Oh, I don’t need a lawyer,” Bixby smirked. “And if I do decide to call in legal counsel, my wife will make the arrangements. She may even decide to sue your department for false arrest and slander.”

  Nessa stood and crossed to the door.

  “Okay, well why don’t we ask your wife about that.”

  Opening the door, Nessa motioned for Barbie Bixby to enter. The woman wore a cheerful red dress and matching lipstick, but her eyes told a different story.

  “Barbs, what are you doing here?” Bixby asked, his cool façade slipping as his wife took a seat across from him.

  “I’ve asked Mrs. Bixby here to enlighten us about your recent activities,” Nessa explained. “She was kind enough to agree.”

  Bixby banged a fist on the wooden table and frowned up at Nessa.

  “You can’t force a wife to speak against her husband,” he insisted, then turned outraged eyes to Barbie. “You don’t have to say anything, baby. This is all just a big misunderstanding.”

  Nessa ignored the outburst, but Barbie raised a hand, as if to silence the room, and produced a thick file folder.

  “No one is forcing me to do anything, Garth. It’s my pleasure to provide Chief Ainsley with the evidence I’ve been collecting.”

  Bixby gaped at his wife, then looked down at the file, which she’d opened on the table. A photo of Bixby sitting at a dimly lit table with Tenley Frost was on top of a stack of other photos.

  “These photos document your activity in the last month or so,” Barbie said. “Underneath them you’ll find credit card records that add to the overall picture of your infidelity and lies.”

  “How did you get these?” Bixby asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “I took that one myself,” she said, pointing to the photo on top. “But after a while I got tired of running around and hired a private investigation firm to follow you. I needed evidence for the divorce proceedings, and as you can see here, I now have plenty.”

  Bixby leaned back in his chair and produced a nasty smile.

  “Those were all business meetings,” he sneered over at Barbie. “Your insecurity is starting to show, dear. It really isn’t attractive.”

  Jankowski, who had been looking through the photos, slapped one of them down in front of Bixby. It showed him in a car with Mackenzie Jensen. They were locked in an embrace.

  “We found the Jetta in that picture abandoned off Highway 42,” the big detective said, his voice hard. “Now, stop with the bullshit. You’ve been sleeping with Mackenzie Jensen and Tenley Frost.”

  "So, I like women,” Bixby said, his smile widening. “That doesn't make me a killer."

  "It doesn't make you a saint, either," Barbie said, standing up. “And I suggest you rethink your decision to retain a lawyer. You’ll need a good one for the divorce.”

  Nessa followed Barbie out into the hall, watching her leave before crossing to interview room two. She rapped softly on the door before opening it. Ruby Chase sat across from Riley Odell. Peyton Bell stood next to Ruby, pointing down to a photo array of nine images.

  “Just ignore me,” Nessa said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. “Pretend I’m
not here.”

  Looking down at the images in front of her, Ruby paused, then shook her head. She looked up at Peyton with a sullen expression.

  “I’ve never seen any of them,” she muttered. “Can I go now?”

  “I think Ms. Odell wants to ask you a few more questions, Ruby,” Peyton said. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”

  The detective motioned for Nessa to follow her into the hall.

  “I just got an update call from Deputy Santino,” Peyton said, her voice hushed. “He’s received a message from Veronica Lee.”

  A jolt of adrenaline flooded through Nessa at her words.

  “Locke has her, and Tenley Frost, too,” Peyton said in a grim whisper. “Santino is on the trail, but he’s asked that we not share details with anyone at this stage, even inside the department.”

  Nessa nodded, her original excitement that Veronica and Tenley were still alive dampened by the realization that a cold-blooded killer had the women. A killer who had successfully evaded capture for almost three decades, and who had shot Astrid Peterson dead before dumping her body in Old Willow Square.

  “Ruby saw the photo of Bixby in the lineup but didn’t identify him,” Peyton said. “If she really has seen Diablo, then it doesn’t look like Bixby is our guy.”

  Turning back to interview room three, Nessa knew they had nothing solid to hold Garth Bixby on. Cheating on your wife wasn’t against the law, and it didn’t prove homicide.

  Nessa opened the door and stepped inside. Bixby had dropped his nice-guy routine all together. His face twisted into an ugly grimace as he turned on Nessa.

  "You’re on the wrong track, Chief,” he said, his voice filled with disdain. “You should be looking for Avery Lynn's father. That's who Tenley was scared of. She would never tell me who the guy was, but she said he was a nasty bastard and that she'd never let him get his hands on her little girl.”

  The image of Tenley’s tiny daughter flitted through Nessa’s mind. Fear took hold of her, and she turned and headed toward the door, suddenly worried that Tenley’s little girl might be a target, too.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Nora Fletcher’s neat little house on Surrey Way was quiet when Nessa and Peyton arrived. Tenley’s car had already been towed away to be searched by the crime scene team, and the driveway where it had been parked was now clear of mud and debris.

  Walking to the door, Nessa tried to tell herself that she was wrong. The man who’d taken Tenley was long gone, and Deputy Santino was on Locke’s trail as he fled Willow Bay.

  There’s no way Locke could have gotten back here to take Avery Lynn.

  But Locke wasn’t working alone. The man calling himself Diablo was still out there, and they had no idea who he was, although Nessa couldn’t imagine what he’d want with a ten-month old baby.

  Unless she’s his baby. Could Diablo be the father of Tenley’s little girl?

  Diablo had admitted on the recording to sleeping with Mackenzie. Could he have been in a relationship with Tenley, too?

  Knocking on Nora Fletcher’s door, Nessa glanced at Peyton as they waited. The detective looked as tired as she felt. It had been a hard week for both of them, and as they waited in vain for Nora to open the door, Nessa had the feeling it was about to get even harder.

  “Mrs. Fletcher?” Nessa finally called out. “Nora? Are you in there? It’s Chief Ainsley with the WBPD. I need to speak to you.”

  A deafening silence was the only response. Nessa tried to turn the doorknob, but it was locked. Hesitating only a second, she started around the side of the house, Peyton right behind her.

  The sliding door to the patio was partially open. Nessa’s heart began to thump in her chest as she approached.

  “Mrs. Fletcher?” Nessa tried again, sticking her head through the sliding door. “Are you in here?”

  A soft moan sounded from somewhere inside.

  Drawing her Glock out of the holster under her jacket, Nessa motioned for Peyton to cover her. The detective pulled out her own weapon, and Nessa stepped into the room, holding her gun in a ready position.

  The living room was dim, but the windows let in enough sunlight for Nessa to see that the room was empty. Making her way into the hall, she heard another moan.

  Peyton came up behind her just as Nessa saw Nora Fletcher’s crumpled body on the floor beside a crib. Her arms and legs had been bound with some kind of cord, but she was conscious.

  Nora began to struggle when she saw Nessa, and called out in a voice that was hoarse, as if she’d been shouting for help.

  “He took the baby,” she said with a sob. “He’s got Avery Lynn.”

  Chapter Forty

  Ruby Chase walked out of the police station and headed west toward the bus stop. She was in a hurry to get out of town as soon as possible now that the state prosecutor had explained that they’d decided not to pursue any charges against her for shoplifting or for the drug possession charges.

  “But I do suggest you go back to Hope House and complete your rehabilitation program,” the prosecutor had urged. “You can’t let these men win, Ruby. You’ve got to take your life back.”

  Ruby knew Diablo’s men would be watching the facility and waiting for her, and if she didn’t want to wind up back behind the big walls and barbed wire, then she had to get out of town.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Detective Ingram stood on the sidewalk; he kept his little eyes pinned on her as she waited at the crosswalk.

  “The prosecutor lady said I could leave.”

  Ruby inched closer to the curb, willing the light to turn green.

  “So, Riley Odell and Nessa Ainsley are at it again,” Ingram said, his voice bitter. “You must think you’ve gotten one over on me, but I’m pretty sure we’ll see each other again. Your kind always turns up. Just like a bad penny.”

  The crosswalk light turned green, and several pedestrians on the other side of the road began to walk toward them. Ruby forced her feet to move, ignoring the feel of Ingram’s eyes on her back as she stepped up onto the curb and hurried around the nearest corner.

  When Ruby looked back, Ingram was out of sight, and she sucked in a deep breath, relieved to be out of the police station and free to leave town. She zipped up her hoodie and headed for the street ahead.

  Keeping up a brisk pace, Ruby soon found herself on Townsend Road. The name sounded familiar, and after another ten minutes of walking, Ruby began to suspect she was on the road that led out of town. The same road that led to Diablo’s base camp.

  The urge to run in the other direction, or maybe to turn south and hitchhike down to Miami, came and went. She suddenly realized that she wanted to find the men who had held her, and who would do anything to stop her from leading the police to their hideout.

  I’ll find it and I’ll call Chief Ainsley and tell her where it is. Then she can arrest Diablo and his men. Once they’re in jail, maybe I can go back home. I might even be able to see Dad and Rory again.

  The thought of seeing her father and little brother again kept Ruby’s feet moving. By the time she’d found the turnoff to Diablo’s camp an hour later, she was sweating. She took off her hoodie and tied it around her waist.

  Creeping through the thick underbrush beside the dirt road, she saw the big concrete fence, topped by rusty barbed wire. She followed the fence around to the gate and peered in, wanting to make sure she was at the right place and that the men were still there.

  Diablo’s righthand man stood on the porch with a gun slung over one beefy shoulder. He was the same man she’d seen at Hope House. She couldn’t mistake his massive chest and dark head of hair.

  The big man watched as workers stacked small bags into the back of a black SUV. Ruby assumed the bags contained pills, or some other kind of drugs. It was all just as she’d remembered it.

  About to turn away, Ruby saw a young woman step out of the building onto the porch. The woman carried a baby in her arms, and as Ruby watched in shock, the baby beg
an to cry.

  “Get back inside,” the big man yelled, motioning toward the door.

  The woman shot him a dirty look but followed his orders. Moments later Diablo appeared. He looked nervous as he paced up and down, his expensive leather jacket flapping around him.

  Ruby strained to hear what the men were saying, leaning closer, but trying to stay out of view.

  "As soon as I get the call, I’m heading out,” Diablo said. “You hold down the fort, and don’t let anything happen to my little princess."

  The big man scowled and shook his head.

  “So now I’m a fucking babysitter?”

  But Diablo wasn’t listening. He turned back to go inside, and Ruby spun around and began making her way through the trees and underbrush to the road. She needed to get to a phone. She needed to tell someone that Diablo had kidnapped a baby. This time he’d gone too far.

  Moving fast, Ruby took the same short cut she had the last time she’d left the compound. Cutting through an empty pasture, she skirted around a citrus grove until she found the two-lane road that offered a more scenic route back to Willow Bay.

  The convenience store she’d stopped at the last time was still there. When she walked inside, she saw the same manager working at the counter. Picturing the baby in the woman’s arms, Ruby walked up to the man, knowing she didn’t have time to waste.

  “Can I use your phone? It’s pretty important.”

  The man frowned at her and cocked his head.

  “Do I know you?”

  “I shop here all the time,” Ruby answered without hesitation. “And I just need to make a call cause I’m having a little trouble with my car.”

  The man raised an eyebrow, then pointed to a phone on the counter. He turned away to ring up a customer’s order as Ruby picked up the handset. She suddenly realized she didn’t know Chief Ainsley’s number.

  If I call the police station, Detective Ingram might come for me.

  Digging in her pocket, she pulled out the only number she had.

  Frankie Dawson answered on the second ring.

  “Barker and Dawson Investigations, this is Frankie.”