Closure

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Closure Page 4

by Angela Ford


  “Welcome and thank you for coming. I am Special Supervisory Agent Tom Erickson, and this is Special Agent Mike Turner,” Tom introduced them. “We are part of an FBI task force put together to track online predators. Our goal is to find them before they find your children. You are about to hear and see disturbing and graphic pictures of what has happened and could happen to children exploited on the Internet,” Tom always said in his opening remarks.

  “Tonight you will learn how children can be at risk from online predators and what can be done to help protect them.” The room turned silent as Mike started the slide show of images found over the Internet with regard to children, predators and portions of conversations.

  Jaws dropped, and the room went completely silent. He had captured the parents’ attention. He went on to inform them of the importance of talking to their children about Internet safety, including control of the teenager’s computer and how to set up and monitor it.

  “If anything does not seem right to you, you should contact your local police.” His voice concerned, almost pleading, he said, “It’s very important to talk to your children about giving out personal information—anything from names, phone numbers, addresses, where they attend school to the name of their school sports team or any activity they may attend—over the Internet.”

  Tom paused for a moment as the room remained entirely still.

  “These predators are broken down into two categories; the ones who will gradually take the time to retrieve all the information about a child they can for months, and the ones who work faster by joining chat groups with explicit sexual content. The online predators that will devote their time to chatting with children for longer periods of time, will gather tidbits of information about the child and put it together like a puzzle until they have enough to locate the child for face-to-face contact. The other ones do not have the patience to waste their time and will immediately start conversing with children on sexually explicit topics. They are both disturbing.” Tom took a seat behind the podium.

  Mike hit the button on his laptop to stop the images that had appeared on the screen above the podium. He switched the screen to show “Internet Safety Tips.” He walked toward the podium and reached for the microphone. The room was still silent, still horrified.

  “Adolescents live for social networking. They are curious about sexuality, and about sexually explicit pictures and discussions. At this age, they want to move away from the control of their parents, and, they want to socialize…bottom line. This is what predators live for. They pretend they are adolescents. They befriend your child. There are handouts of Internet safety tips by the door. Please take one as you leave.”

  Tom watched the audience as Mike spoke and noticed the alarmed eyes of parents. In their field of work, they saw it too much. Tom stood and walked to the podium, taking the microphone from Mike.

  He then ended the seminar with a reminder that if all security fails, it is not the child’s fault, it is always the offender.

  As the room cleared, Tom and Mike packed up. The police officer they spoke with before the seminar about the twelve-year old girl, entered the gymnasium. Tom reached out to shake his hand and thanked him for coming back to report the outcome of the call.

  “It was indeed an online contact through a chat room but it was the twelve-year-old girl who gave her phone number and address to the man in question. She invited him over, for the third time,” the officer reported. “The man in question is a twenty-year-old white male who swears she said she was seventeen and he believed her,” the officer added.

  Mike shook his head in disgust as he packed up his computer. Tom thanked the officer again for the update. This wasn’t their UNSUB but he still felt repulsed.

  Chapter Five

  “What is it you need to know sweetheart?” Mrs. Roberts re-filled Jess’s glass with more iced tea. She smiled ever so gently.

  Jess’s heart melted at the sight that brought back memories so dear to her heart. It only made her want to uncover what her father had hidden from her. She already knew why he’d done it—he was very protective of his family.

  “Did my parents ever mention a secret admirer they wanted to protect me from?” There, she’d asked without beating around the bush.

  “A secret admirer” Mrs. Roberts asked and placed her hand across her chest.

  Jess smiled and nodded, waiting for a response.

  “I don’t recall your parents ever mentioning a secret admirer. Why do you ask?”

  “I discovered some postcards with my name on them in my father’s office. They didn’t have our address, just my name and then just three words and no signature.” Those three words sent shivers through her bones. It was still shocking to her that her parents never mentioned anything about them.

  Mrs. Roberts seemed both intrigued and worried. “What were the three words, Jessica?”

  “I Crave You.”

  “Heavens, dear Jessica, who would say something, like that? Must not be a villager; no one from here would talk that way.”

  “I’ve wracked my brain. It doesn’t sound like anyone from here. I never dated anyone from here or even felt an interest in anyone as a teenager.”

  Jess looked toward the ocean. Mrs. Roberts leaned forward and placed her hand on top of Jess’s hand. Jess turned and smiled. There had always been such warmth and caring from the woman—one person she knew she could trust.

  “Can you recall anyone out of the ordinary that summer?”

  “Maybe it was just a silly prank by friends.”

  Maybe, thought Jess, but she couldn’t shake it. Was it real? Or was it her probing mind, skeptical of anyone because of her work? As she mused over the thoughts racing through her mind, she heard Mrs. Roberts call out to her husband.

  “Henry…what was the name of that young woman who showed up at the Richmonds’ years ago? I think she was a cousin from out west. She ran from an abusive husband.”

  Mr. Roberts walked out onto the terrace, scratching his head as though trying to remember. “I think it was Susan or Suzanne, something like that? Why?”

  “Our dear Jessica found some disturbing notes at her parents’ beach home addressed to her from a secret admirer; someone who did not speak like a villager. She’s wondering if we remember anything out of the ordinary that last summer.”

  “You think they might be from the Richmonds ‘cousin?” Henry looked confused.

  “No Henry, I just remember her arrival that summer. From what I heard she’d been abused and ran from that crazy husband of hers.” She turned to Jess and patted her on the hand. “She was different, but her husband followed her here, and I heard it took the Sheriff to run him out of town.”

  “Oh Marilyn, don’t talk gossip now. We don’t know that for sure,” Henry abruptly interrupted, but she just shrugged.

  “What was his name, Henry, do you remember?”

  Henry sighed. He brushed his hand roughly across his five-o’clock shadow, “Umm…I think his name was Marshall, maybe.” Henry walked back into the house.

  “Pay no mind to him Jessica, he thinks everything is gossip,” Mrs. Roberts said to keep her dignity.

  “Mrs. Roberts?”

  “Yes, sweetheart, what is it?”

  “Do you know much of what happened the night my parents were killed?”

  The dreaded question hadn’t been spoken about in ten years. Mrs. Roberts shook her head and leaned into Jess and whispered that Henry didn’t like to recall that horrific night. She spoke in a soft quiet voice so he would not hear her.

  “Jessica, my dear Jessica; it was a horrible tragedy. Nothing like it ever happened in the village before or since. It was one of those things that just didn’t happen here in Vineyard Haven. We will never know why it happened to your parents. Asking why will not bring them back. My heart a
ches deeply for you, sweetheart. Let it go. Live your life. Remember the good times.”

  “You’re right.” Jess knew Mrs. Roberts was right, but she wanted to know more. Something just did not sit right, especially after her findings.

  There was a warm breeze coming off the shore when Jess left the Roberts place late in the afternoon. Mrs. Roberts tried to convince her to stay for dinner with them, but Jess politely told her she needed to get back for a conference call for work. Of course, before leaving, Mrs. Roberts gave her another goodie bag.

  Late May on the east coast was warm during the day, but the nights were still cool. In another week, the summer residents and tourists would roll in to capture the beauty the Vineyards offered. Then the little village would no longer remain quiet and peaceful.

  Jess strolled along the shore back to her beach house, the sand blowing over her toes with every step. She couldn’t stop thinking of what Mrs. Roberts said about her husband not wanting to speak about that fateful night. It was Mr. Roberts who found her parents’ bodies early the next morning when he came by with a package of goodies from the Missus. He’d come to say goodbye since the Resarios were heading back to Washington that morning. Mrs. Roberts did not have a lot of detail for Jess because Mr. Roberts never wanted to speak of what he saw that dreadful morning. Mr. Roberts always protected her as if she were his daughter. She knew that the Roberts didn’t know anything about her parents’ death besides the fact that Mr. Roberts found the bodies. All Mrs. Roberts knew was that her husband said he had never seen such a horrendous scene and he felt relieved Jess already left for college, was safe, and would never have to see the despicable act executed upon her parents.

  Mrs. Roberts mentioned she had remembered the men who came from Washington in black suits and stayed for a few days. She told Jessica she suspected they were security men or perhaps FBI, but she’d never heard or seen anything since. Jess’s Christmas cards to the Roberts were purposely very general. She never mentioned who she worked for.

  Her question about a secret admirer left one possibility she could investigate. Maybe this new piece of information might lead her to an answer.

  Mrs. Roberts said that she’d never heard of Jess having a secret admirer. So many questions raced Jess’s mind. Had her parents kept it to themselves? Did her mom even know? She tried to think back to that summer; her last summer with her parents. Was there a boy she liked? Not that she recalled. She didn’t remember a boy even paying any attention to her. This was crazy. Who was this secret admirer—or worse—stalker? Was it the same person who killed her parents? Did their deaths have something to do with her father’s “business?” Or was it just a senseless break and enter gone bad as the FBI claimed? Jess knew she would have to dig deeper into her dad’s business. If she couldn’t find anything in his computer, she would ask Tom to help her dig into her dad’s files that she didn’t have clearance for. And who was this Susan or Suzanne Richmond or Marshall and the husband she ran from? She would have to search for anything she could find on them.

  She reached the stone steps before her beach home. Jess was startled by the sound of a phone ringing. She raced through the sliding doors, and out of breath, she picked up the phone. “Hello.”

  “Are you out of breath for me?” Tom played with her.

  She laughed. “Yeah, right, anything new? Can I come back?” She listened as Tom filled her in on the undercover work of Gina as Melissa at the school and Eric as Melissa’s daddy.

  “He must love that one,” Jess said sarcastically.

  “Mike and I put on a seminar tonight and the list of parents that signed in all checked out.”

  Jess knew that meant there was no sign of the UNSUB at the seminar.

  “No luck as far as Gina connecting with him, but she’s been accepted into the right crowd, and she fits the profile of a potential victim.”

  Jess wanted to ask him about coming back to work. Gina was on the front line now and not her. She knew Tom always protected his team, but they could use her computer expertise to work the case.

  “The team jet will be ready for you at 5:00 a.m.”

  “What? You’re bringing me back?”

  “Yes. See you tomorrow. Are you okay Jess,” he then asked.

  Jess considered asking him for help with her father’s files but thought it best to speak to him in person. She knew he worried that she was still dealing with old ghosts. She assured him she was fine, but he would know that she lied; he could always read her eyes and her voice.

  “Oh…and the rest of the team wanted me to say hello and they need you.”

  Jess smiled as she hung up. The sun just began to set. She decided to start the fireplace before she packed her bag. Both took about fifteen minutes. Mr. Roberts kept his promise to care for her house as he had for her parents. All she had to pack were the few outfits she bought at The Village Boutique. She found a carry-on bag in her closet. Inside, there was a picture of her and Sandy when they were about twelve-years-old.

  “I remember that night,” she said aloud. The girls went to Mrs. Roberts for a tea party sleepover and watched the Princess Diaries movie. They had so much fun with Mrs. Roberts. Jess thought about Sandy and how close they had been every summer since they were ten. That memory stopped her from folding clothes into the bag and she walked into the kitchen looking for her phone.

  “Sandy?” Jess barely recognized the voice on the other end.

  “Oh Jess! I hoped you would call. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve been dealing with old ghosts since I arrived, but wanted to give you a call.”

  “No worries, Jessie. I understand it must be terrible for you, especially since it’s the first time back since…”

  “Are you busy? Would you like to come for dinner? Sorry for the short notice.”

  “What are best friends for? See you in about a half.”

  Jess had just enough time to jump in the shower. Mrs. Roberts sent enough food for an army and all they would have to do is heat it up when Sandy arrived. She had one more thing to pack first—her notebook. She ran upstairs and unplugged her flash drive to put in her pocket along with her dad’s. Quickly, she showered and dressed, excited to see Sandy but also to find out if Sandy remembered anything from their last summer together.

  Entering the kitchen, she saw that the red light on her phone flashed, which meant a new message had been left.

  She gasped and dropped it when she read the message, “I Crave You.”

  “This can’t be happening! Ghosts I can deal with, but this?” She reached for her phone, her hand trembling as she picked it up.

  It was sent from a private number, and Jess thought instantly of Mike and his genius mind. He was the one person she could possibly trust with the information. There was a secret way they could connect without anyone knowing. She no longer thought it was a possible past admirer. Her dad had been right and perhaps her parents’ deaths did have something to do with it.

  Just then, the doorbell rang and she almost jumped out of her skin. Jess took a deep breath, scooped her hair up into a ponytail, and tried to regain her composure before she answered the door. After all, she was a professional.

  After a quick glance through the peep-hole, she opened the door with a smile. Sandy embraced her immediately and the two hugged for a couple of minutes, and then walked, arms intertwined to the kitchen. Jess poured them a glass of red wine.

  “Lovely, full-bodied,” Sandy raised her glass and touched it to Jess’s in a cheer of approval. “So Jessie, do tell. Where have you been my whole life?”

  “Smartass, it’s only been ten years.”

  Sandy flashed a sarcastic smile at Jess, when her phone rang. “Hi babe” She smiled and walked into the great room. Jess could overhear her end of the conversation as she prepared to heat up their dinner. “Ditto” and a cheeky
giggle ended the conversation and Sandy walked back into the kitchen to help her.

  “Ditto, what, no ‘I love you’?” Jess chuckled.

  “Always ditto. His is always, ‘I Crave You.’” Sandy laughed and rolled her eyes. “It’s been that way since we were kids.”

  Jess dropped the plate in her hand. She almost fainted at the words. She tried to compose herself, and not let Sandy see her face as she bent down to pick up the plate. When she straightened, Sandy was there to hug her. “You poor girl, it must be so hard to be back here and have to grieve all over again.”

  Jess felt relieved that her best friend had no idea the problem wasn’t ghosts, but the three words that haunted her all day. She knew now she could not discuss the postcards openly with her. She would have to find a way to get around it.

  “So Jessie, is there a special someone in your life?” Sandy asked as she filled their glasses.

  “There’s never been someone special in my life,” Jess replied, and thought, How sad does that sound? She set their plates down on the table and Sandy brought their wine.

  “So what do you do with your time?” Sandy seemed concerned.

  “Work,” Jess answered.

  “How sad, I hope your work is at least intriguing?”

  “I work with computers. Does that sound intriguing?” Jess laughed as she said it. She never talked about her work with anyone except the team and she wasn’t about to start. Maybe it was a little cold of her, but the two hadn’t kept in touch in ten years and all Jess wanted tonight were some answers about the past. She was focused on solving the mystery of this so-called stalker. Jess knew she had to keep the momentum going and portray a ‘missed you’ best friend.

  “Tell me about you and Billy—sorry—Bill.”

 

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