by Charly Cox
The park was a narrow one with only a couple of trees, one picnic table, and a bike or walking path on one side. An arroyo snaked down the middle, and that’s where Alyssa headed first while Cord took the bike path. As she passed under one of the only trees, a reflection coming from above made her glance up, searching for whatever object had caught her attention. And when she saw it, the last hope she’d had that Katelyn had simply wandered off to another friend’s house vanished. Caught in the branches of the tree rested the pink and black polka-dotted bag Stephanie described, a mirror dangling from the zipper catching the moon’s reflection, which is what made Alyssa look up. A few feet away, near the stucco wall separating the park from the neighborhood, lay an abandoned phone, face up, a faint, flashing blue light beckoning her.
‘Cord,’ she yelled. ‘I’ve got something.’
Chapter Twenty
Wednesday, May 22
Jersey lay in a crumpled heap in the center of the bed that was shoved up against one wall of the room called The Toybox. It hadn’t taken long at all to break her down. To muffle the sobs that shook her body, she burrowed her head into the pillow, doing her best to ignore the pain from the bruise she felt blooming on her thigh.
An image of Beau flashed through her mind, the argument they’d been having just before she and her friends had gone to dinner. Given what had been happening to her the past few days, it was ironic really that she’d been so angry and devastated at the suggestion that she play out his twisted sexual fantasies, ones in which he wasn’t even a participant but an observer. Her fingers curled into her palms, the jagged edges of what was left of her fingernails driving deep. Every bit of the pain and degradation, every endless second of it that she’d endured since she’d been dragged here was because of him.
At the sound of a key turning in the lock, Jersey’s muscles tensed as her teeth bit into her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. When the door opened revealing the already all-too-familiar face, her tremors morphed into full body shakes, a scream clawing at her throat as it begged to be released.
His eyes steady and cold, the man quietly closed the door, locking it behind him gently as if what they were going to do was nothing more than an intimate interlude that he didn’t want to have interrupted. Only when he slid open the wardrobe closet simply labeled ‘The Toolbox’ did his eyes stray from Jersey to the items organized neatly on hooks before bouncing back to her as if weighing which would be the most painful, the most degrading. His choice finally made, he set the item off to the side and slowly removed his clothes, folding each item carefully before placing it on a chair perched in a corner. As he did, he watched her watch him, ignoring both her whimpers as well as the tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes, further soaking the pillow beneath her head.
Then, fully nude, fully aroused, eyes gleaming with pure evil, he approached the bed, his right hand gripping the wardrobe item. And though she knew it was a useless effort, Jersey forced her arms and legs to move, to scramble as far away as possible. If there’d been a window, she would’ve found a way to jump through it, even if it meant leaping to her death.
She made it less than a foot before the snapping sound whistled through the air a split second before the burning sting of leather struck her soft flesh, and this time she did nothing to hold back the agonized howl, allowing it to grow louder as the man roughly grabbed her already bruised body and flipped her onto her back, a sickening grin covering his face.
Jersey squeezed her eyes closed against the nightmare that wouldn’t end and did something she hadn’t done since she was nine years old. She prayed. Prayed for death to come this instant and carry her far, far away. Even hell had to be better than this.
And then she found herself praying for something else, something more.
Revenge.
Chapter Twenty-One
Wednesday, May 22
Shortly after five-thirty the next morning, a mere five hours after getting home, Alyssa walked back into the precinct, sleep-deprived and weary, yet full of adrenaline and drive to find Rachel, Jersey, and now Katelyn. The disappearances were connected; they had to be. And she was determined to hunt down that connection. Her gut told her if she found that link, it would also lead to Jane Doe’s killer.
She set her stuff down and booted up the computer before grabbing a stack of multi-colored sticky notes, a black marker, and a plastic cup of pushpins. She was standing by the enlarged map of Albuquerque when the conference room door banged open against the wall, the scent of coffee filling the room. She spared a quick glance over her shoulder. Cord juggled a four-pack container of take-out coffee with a fifth cup perched precariously in the crook of his elbow.
‘Thought you might need this this morning. Black and strong, just the way you like it. Where is everyone else?’ He carefully set everything down before handing her one of the cups and then heading over to the white board writing: Rachel Otis, Jersey Andrews, Katelyn Phillipson. Beside each name he wrote the date each had disappeared. Then he wrote Jane Doe and listed the date her body had been discovered in the abandoned restaurant.
Leaving him to do what he was doing, Alyssa returned to her own task, but before she could get started, Hal rolled in, speaking over the squeak of his wheelchair. ‘Tony sent a text to say he’s five minutes out. Construction slowed him down. Joe is parking his car.’
‘Nope, Joe has finished parking his car and is present and accounted for.’ With his foot, Joe pulled out the chair closest to him and dropped into it, pointing to the coffee. ‘One of those for me?’ He didn’t wait for an answer before grabbing one of the take-out cups and taking a careful sip. ‘You know, it’s a sad thing when the workings of a police station are far less grating than the nonstop cries of an infant who can’t be soothed.’ He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a second. ‘Okay, have I missed anything yet?’
‘Nope. We’re still waiting for Tony,’ Hal answered.
‘Wait’s over.’ Tony walked through the door, a sub sandwich and a bag of salt and vinegar chips in hand. ‘What? I didn’t get a chance to eat it last night, so I brought it for breakfast this morning,’ he said when Hal’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He tore open the bag of chips and dumped them onto a napkin, offering them to the rest of the team.
No thanks echoed around the room before Alyssa moved everyone back to the missing girls.
‘Now that we’re all here, let’s get started. Someone out there has to know something; someone had to have seen something. The idea that these girls simply went poof into thin air – one minute there, gone the next – is absurd.’ She took a step back, forehead furrowed in concentration. She tapped Rachel’s name. ‘Rachel Otis attended a frat party with a friend who we only know as “Anna.” No one seems to know who she is, and so we can’t locate her. What happened to this girl? Are she and Rachel together somewhere? Has anyone reported a missing girl of eighteen or nineteen that fits her general description?’ Despite already knowing the answer, her gaze swept around the room, waiting for everyone to shake their heads in the negative. If any of them had heard of a report, she would’ve been the next to know.
‘Both Rachel Otis and Jersey Andrews disappeared in the UNM area’ – she tapped the map – ‘here and here. Katelyn Phillipson’s items were located in Noreste Park here.’ She angled her body away from the map so everyone could see. Then, using a different color sticky note for each girl, she tacked the names onto the spot where each girl lived, including Rachel’s dorm as well as her home on Rio Grande. As she pushed Jersey’s name into place, she swore. ‘Damn it!’ This was the something that had been bothering her last night as she drove from Katelyn’s home to Stephanie’s.
She grabbed a highlighter and drew four circles, connecting them with lines. ‘This is the Phillipson home, Katelyn’s best friend’s home, the place Katelyn’s belongings were discovered, and this is where Jersey Andrews lives, half a mile away.’ A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach made her lightheaded, but she push
ed it aside. Keeping her voice steady, she turned to Hal. ‘Let’s check the registered sex offenders in the area, see if any of them have a residence nearby.’
‘I’ll check into that as soon as we finish up in here. And before I forget, Channel 13 is running the sketch of our Jane Doe like we discussed last night. She may or may not be related to these other disappearances, but with a little luck, someone will recognize her and give us a call.’
Cord jumped in. ‘Either way, we need to find out who she is and what happened to her. Someone out there has to be missing her, and they’re going to need closure of some kind, even if it’s knowing they no longer have to search for her.’ There was an unnatural gravelly tone to his voice, and Hal, Tony, and Joe darted curious looks his way.
‘Along those same lines…’ Alyssa exchanged her yellow highlighter for a neon pink one. ‘Like Hal said, we don’t know if our Jane Doe case is related, but here’s the frat house where Rachel was last seen; within a quarter mile is the duck pond.’ As she spoke, she circled the locations. ‘And here,’ she added another circle, ‘less than a mile and a half away is where our Jane Doe was discovered.’ She caught the eyes of everyone in the room. ‘That’s a little too close for me to take as coincidental. Add in the proximity of two of the girls… I don’t like what my instincts are screaming at me.’ She forced herself to say the rest. ‘Especially in light of the fact that just last month, we were on the hunt for a serial killer who targeted young women.’
‘Okay, I get what you’re saying, but as big as Albuquerque is, it’s not that big, and Katelyn Phillipson’s things were discovered nine miles away in the Northeast Heights,’ Joe interjected.
Alyssa sighed. ‘True. Yet, there is still a connection. Rachel Otis, Jersey Andrews, and Katelyn Phillipson all hail from wealthy, financially stable backgrounds. As tenuous a link as it may be, it’s still a link. It could mean nothing, or it could be the one thing that opens this case up.’ She concentrated her focus on Hal. ‘You’re the best at digging up dirt, so I need you to check into financials for all these families. While you’re at it, let’s see if any of them have any common interests, maybe belong to the same church, gym, whatever, anything that might tie them together somehow.’
At the mention of the gym, a thunderous expression flashed across Cord’s face, there and gone in an instant, and she knew Beau Cambridge was the reason why. He was still high on her list of persons of interest but being an asshole didn’t automatically make him guilty. Still, it sure as hell made his actions suspicious. So far, they’d been unable to verify his alibi, and knowing he’d been at Jersey’s house the day she’d disappeared placed him in the same area as Katelyn Phillipson’s house. Maybe he’d seen her out walking with Stephanie, maybe…
‘Cell phone records. Joe, why don’t you check on those? See who each person last called or texted, see if we can ping that location. Of course, with Katelyn Phillipson, we already have this information since we have her phone. The last text she sent was to her friend Stephanie, telling her to meet her in the atrium after school. At three-fifty an incomplete and unsent text to her mother simply read “On my,” so assuming she was letting Mrs. Phillipson know she was on her way home. Every incoming call and text after that is from Stephanie or her parents.’ Alyssa glanced at Cord before once more addressing Joe. ‘Check Beau Cambridge’s records, too. If we have to subpoena them, we will, but let’s see what we can find out first.’
Tony opened his mouth to speak, but Alyssa’s ringing phone cut him off. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and glanced down. ‘It’s Lynn. I’m going to take this.’
‘Dr. Sharp, you’re up early. What’ve you got?’
‘Couldn’t sleep this morning,’ the medical examiner said around a yawn. ‘So, I came in to work on our Jane Doe. And before you ask, no, I don’t have an identification on her. But I wanted to fill you in on a few things in case they can help with what you’ve already got.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s not much, so I’m ready for anything I can get. I’m going to put you on speaker so everyone can hear you.’ She tapped the screen and leaned the phone against the whiteboard. ‘Okay, go ahead.’
‘First off, based on several factors, I’m placing Jane Doe anywhere from fourteen to eighteen years of age. Second, the ligature marks around her wrists and ankles are consistent with both manacles and some type of rope. Based on the markings and scarring, my professional opinion is that those were inflicted during separate incidents.’
‘What about the girl’s fingers?’
‘Are you referring to the fingernail avulsion?’
‘Fingernail what?’
‘Fingernail avulsion… complete removal of the finger or toenail… I’ve never experienced it, but as a form of torture, this could be quite effective, which is why it’s used, I imagine. Which, I suppose, is my answer to your question. Anyway, back to the ligature marks, I was able to pull a small bit of fiber from a couple of the wounds, and I’ll get those sent off to the lab asap. Later today, I’ll be running a toxicology report, and I’ll get back with you as soon as the results are in. I was also able to retrieve several hair follicles in the folds of Jane Doe’s neck. I hate to use this phrase, but we’re in luck because it appears the root is attached, which of course means we have a much higher likelihood of retrieving DNA.’
‘Thanks for this, Lynn. I appreciate it.’
‘There’s more. Alyssa,’ Lynn’s lips vibrated noisily as she exhaled through her mouth, ‘I discovered probably ten bite marks, and I don’t mean gentle love nips, either. I’m talking chomping down, breaking through skin and tissue bites. In addition, there are a number of small puncture wounds consistent with an ice pick or something of a similar nature on Jane Doe’s backside, around her buttocks, thighs, and lower back.’
All color slipped from Cord’s face, and his head snapped back as if he’d been slapped. Shoving back from the table, he paced back and forth between the door and the table. By the third trip, the veins in his temple bulged, and a dangerous shade of red had returned to his face.
Anger turned Alyssa’s vision into a blurry haze. ‘Christ.’ She’d once read a forensic study about how some killers subdued their victims by utilizing ice picks to control them. The wounds would be extremely painful, but not necessarily deadly, though of course, they could be. Her gaze followed her team’s reaction to this news. Hal sagged deeper into his chair, and Joe ran fingers through his hair, shaking his head, doing his best, she imagined, to rid himself of the image placed there by Lynn Sharp’s description. Tony wiped both hands down the front of his face, muttering the same thing Alyssa had.
‘I’m fairly certain Christ had nothing to do with this,’ Lynn remarked, reminding Alyssa the woman was a devout agnostic.
‘Thank you, Lynn,’ she said. ‘I appreciate you taking the time to call us with this.’
‘Good luck, Detective.’
The room was unnaturally quiet, save for the deeply controlled breaths of everyone present as they each processed the news in their own heads. A few seconds after the call ended, a light tap at the door preceded Ruby poking her head in, her eyes sweeping across the room until she spotted Alyssa.
‘There’s a Sergeant Boudreaux from Santa Fe on line two. He says he thinks he recognizes your Jane Doe.’
Alyssa thanked Ruby as she rushed over to the blinking light and pressed the button, once again placing the person on the other end on speaker as the entire team moved in closer to the phone. ‘This is Detective Wyatt.’
‘Detective, this is Sergeant Boudreaux from the SFPD. I saw the composite sketch of your Jane Doe on the news this morning. I think she could be fourteen-year-old Meghan Jessup who went missing up here in late April. Her family thought she’d run away after a row when they put their foot down about her dating some senior. According to her dad, she got pretty upset, and the next day, she never came home from school.’
‘Has her family seen the news?’
‘When I spoke to them, they hadn
’t, and as they’re headed straight here, I doubt they will. When they arrive, I’ll drive them to Albuquerque to see about making a positive ID. We should be there in less than two hours. I’ll let you know when we hit the city limits, so you can meet us at the coroner’s office.’
‘I appreciate it, Sergeant.’
Hal caught Alyssa’s eyes. ‘Sergeant Boudreaux, this is Hal Callum. Out of curiosity, where do the Jessups live?’
‘Off the top of my head, I don’t have their address, but I can get it if you need it.’
‘Just the general area for now, if you don’t mind.’
‘Well, I can tell you the Jessup residence is in one of the pricier communities up here. Do you mind if I ask why?’
The team exchanged glances, and Hal lifted one brow in question, deferring to Alyssa, but she nodded, encouraging him to continue. ‘We have a bit of something going on down here. Three girls aged thirteen to nineteen have up and disappeared in the last few days. And while it may be nothing, especially in connection with your case, we’ve noticed an unusual financial link threaded through these cases. It may be in no way related, but then again, I don’t want to discount anything at this point.’
‘I understand. Detective Wyatt, can I get your digits so I can contact you directly when we arrive?’
‘Absolutely.’ They exchanged numbers, Alyssa thanked him again, and then she ended the call, unsure whether her nerves wanted her to move about or simply fall back into the chair as the fear of another serial killer out there gripped her. How would Holly deal with that? How would she?
Alyssa shook the thought off. She couldn’t think that way. They had to focus on what they knew, not what they feared. She pushed herself to her feet and headed for the door. ‘I’m going to give Hammond an update.’ She motioned for Cord to follow. ‘You coming?’
Before she’d even finished her sentence, Cord was by her side. ‘Let’s do it.’