Just as Walter turned and walked back to his office, Isaac, making sure that Grant could not hear, softly asked,
“Sir, may I speak to you candidly?”
Recognizing that an off the record conversation was afoot, Walter said,
“Always. As long as you don’t tell me how much grayer my hair has become, I always want you to speak to me openly. All my deputies have the same privilege and do so often.”
He then added,
“What’s wrong?”
“Well, I understand that I’m new to the force and of course there is a pecking order of things. I know I shouldn’t barge into this job and start criticism on procedure and investigative practices ---”
“I’m falling asleep her son.”
“Yes Sir. I’m just trying to be delicate and ---”
“Delicate is for a three legged bull in a china shop trying not to break anything. Break a few things and tell me what’s on your mind.”
Still hesitant but wanting to get it out, he slowly said,
“Whoever investigated the case of the three missing children did not follow procedure. There was only a half-assed interrogation of the parents and no investigation of the children’s rooms at all. I asked the three parents simple basic questions that led to a doctor’s name and a connection in the three cases pointing to the Factory.”
He then looked down to the files and added,
“Sir, it’s like your principle investigator was either inept or deliberately wanted to hide information from the investigation and didn’t want the case solved.”
Walter was shocked. All the searches and examination of clues was based on that investigation. He had promised parents that his best investigator was on it. He accepted the bad news, gently put his hand on Isaacs shoulder and said,
“This is now a ‘closed investigation’ for your eyes only. Keep on it. No daily report or information gathered from this office goes into your file. Report only to me. If what you say is true, we have a major problem on our hands.”
Isaac watched as heavy steps carried Walter back into his office. He was no fool. Isaac knew that it was the Sheriff’s job to assign the investigator. Although Isaac didn’t know who it was, he understood that Walter certainly did and it was one of the Deputies in this office. With Isaac’s nose to the computer, Grant got up and walked out of the office. Out in the reception area he ignored Edith’s smile and moved his peg to ‘out’. She was experienced enough to let the snub go, that something heavy was on his mind. He walked past his patrol car and over to the large grocery store next to the police station. Inside, near the exit door was a public phone hanging on the wall.
Chapter 26
Deputy Grant Lloyd wiped the coin clean of fingerprints and carefully dropped it into the payphone slot. As he had contacted this person many times before, he knew the phone number by heart. When the phone was answered, his conversation was brief and direct, just the way the person on the other end liked it.
“The Sheriff has suspicions of your activities.”
Demetri Warric had enough problems and didn’t need this added to them. Annoyed, he demanded,
“Suspicions or proof?”
“Simply suspicion.”
Grant then added,
“A rookie on the force has reopened the missing three children case.”
Warric responded in a harsh tone.
“Why are you worried about that? Did you not misdirect and destroy everything in your investigation pointing to the Factory?”
“Yes sir, I understand my job. There is nothing to worry about. He will discover nothing.”
“I pay you good money for this. I expect nothing but the best results.”
“Yes sir, I understand.”
“Good. Press an ear to the wall and keep me informed.”
“Yes sir.”
Because Grant’s reports to the head of the Factory were always brief, he was prepared to hang up until he heard.
“I’m glad you called. I have a job for you.”
Grant intently listened to the instructions. The last thing Warric said was,
“Offer him ten thousand for the job.”
When everything was clear and he knew what to do, he hung up. With a fresh tissue he wiped the phone clean of prints and left the store. Climbing into his cruiser he left the mall and turned left onto Maple Street. He picked up his cruiser mobile phone and reported to headquarters,
“Unit Mobile Five is on the road reporting to his beat.”
Edith responded,
“Roger Unit Five.”
He then turned right onto Fifth Avenue, in the wrong direction to his assigned beat. On top of the one thousand a month he gets paid by the Factory to protect their interest and erase files, this extra money was a pleasant windfall.
Grant parked a block from the Saddle Bar and Casino. Reaching into his glove compartment, he took out a package wrapped in newspaper and carefully hid it under his jacket. Walking through the Casino parking lot he spotted what he was after. Knowing that the pickup truck was never locked, he opened the passenger door and after making sure nobody was paying any attention to him, he slid the package under the seat.
Inside the casino he scanned the patrons looking for one person in particular. The bar was packed and many were standing in small groups holding a beer and just talking. Grant was not a stranger here, although in uniform nobody paid too much attention to him. As he made his way through the crowd a few guilty smiles were cast his way but it was not underage drinking and drugs he was after today. The bartender saw him and said,
“Deputy Lloyd, you are early today. What’s it going to be? On the house of course.”
Grant was not a stranger to drinking on the job or one to pass up a free beer but this time it was business first and then a few beers. Continuing to walk past the bartender he said,
“Yeah sure but hold off on it for a minute will yeah. I’ll be right back.”
Rick Calhoun was at the pool table with a beer in one hand and cue stick in the other. He was concentrating hard on his next shot and didn’t see Grant approach from behind. However, he did hear,
“Drop the cue stick Calhoun, we got business to discuss.”
Turning around and seeing who it was, produced a disgusting expression and,
“Oh come on. What the hell did I do now?”
“It ain’t what you did but rather what you are going to do. Drop the cue and come outside with me.”
Feeling abused and not wanting to take it anymore, Rick strongly objected.
“Look, you got nothing on me. Sheriff Cornwall said that I was free to go. Give me one good reason why I should walk outside with you. Make it good cause I got ten bucks riding on this game.”
In a dead pan voice, Grant easily caught his attention.
“A job that’s worth five grand to you.”
Although Warric had approved of ten grand for the job, Grant’s greedy heart had no problem keeping five for his own pocket. He referred to it as a legitimate finder’s fee.
Rick followed Grant through the parking lot and stopped beside his truck. They stood face to face and Rick brought up the subject near and dear to his heart.
“So, what’s this about five grand?”
Grant knew that Rick was heavily in debt both to the casino and drug dealers. For a man who at best could only hold down low paying part time jobs he lived well beyond his means. The thought of getting money in his pocket was not only a greedy incentive but a necessity as well. The word in the casino and the drug world was that his time was up. It was time to repay the money or pay the consequences. Rick was eager and willing to do whatever it took to get his hands on five grand.
When Grant laid the contract on the line, to kill a woman Rick didn’t know, he didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. For the sake of a fortune in downtown real estate and an old house up on Jasper Street, he had already killed one woman and planning the death of two others. Just by that real estate alone, not only would he
be able to pay back all the money he owed but be rich beyond his dreams. An extra five grand would be a nice start.
After Rick eagerly accepted the deal, Grant gave him the details.
“Our rookie located her and I hacked his computer for the address. She lives over in Valley North in trailer number 73.”
He handed Rick a folded piece of paper with directions and a schematic showing the inside of the trailer. Without looking at it he put it in his pocket and said,
“I’ll need a weapon.”
“I put a semi-automatic Smith and Wesson with a full clip under your passenger seat. If you think you need it, I added a silencer. It’s untraceable so when it’s all done, just wipe it clean and dispose of it.”
He then added,
“I’ll look up your account and deposit two grand right now. When I see a picture of the body I’ll deposit the rest.”
Rick didn’t like the payment condition, shook his head and protested,
“I don’t get paid like that. I have no bank account and so only deal in cash.”
Although it was a snag, it was one easily circumvented. Grant said,
“The problem is that the people I work for don’t deal in cash. However, we can work around that. Come over to the ATM with me and I’ll pay you from my personal account.”
Rick nodded his approval until he heard,
“But cash from me ain’t free. It’ll cost you three hundred from the five grand you get for the job.”
The thought of two grand cash in his pocket right now easily erased the rip off.
That night, Rick drove to Valley North with the semi-automatic on the seat beside him. Of the two thousand Rick had given him at the ATM he only had three hundred left. His drug dealer would not sell him more unless the past debt was paid. He was now comfortably high and eager to get the rest of the money.
Only a few miles from the trailer park it started to rain. On the surface, that would be no problem as far as the job went. The only problem was that the wipers only smeared the windshield and made vision worse. Although he hated it, he was forced to slow down.
It was late at night and Doctor Fran Jorden was exhausted. It had been a long and traumatic day. Finally the twins were asleep and she was able to find time for herself. In the bathroom, she looked in the mirror and saw a horrid person looking back at her that she did not recognize. Hair once only touched by a stylist no longer radiated the look of a professional and respected Doctor. It now looked like a homeless vagabond only seen on dark streets. Her coveted black rim glasses could not hide dark and sad inset eyes. Even her bathrobe was ragged and torn at the seams.
Slow feet shuffled her into the kitchen. At the fridge she pulled out a beer, went to the living room and practically fell into the lounger. With feet up on the footstool, she stared thoughtlessly at the flames in the fireplace and wondered what on earth had happened to her once prosperous life. She returned her leased BMW and bought a beat up old Honda Civic. The humility tore at a once proud Doctor.
After an hour of sad thoughts and curses to the fates for what they had done to her, she entertained thoughts of getting off the lounger and going to bed. Only half the beer had been consumed but she had had enough. She got up and left the bottle on the small side table. She tossed her cigarette into the fireplace and with a flip of the switch the flames were turned off. Leaving the living room, she shuffled into her bedroom. Just in case one of the twins got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, she left a light on in the hallway.
Because of the rain and smeared windshield, Rick had to circle the trailer park a few times before managing to finally locate trailer number 73. He was smart enough to park a few lots away and around a curve. Before getting out of the truck he inspected the clip in the semi-automatic. As Deputy Grant Lloyd had promised, there were nine rounds in it. Grant told Rick that if he was any good at this, he would only need one. He then studied the schematic of the trailer. It looked easy enough. The master bedroom was the first one down the narrow hall and to the left. He would not need to sneak past the twin’s bedroom. It was difficult but after a couple of tries he was able to screw the silencer onto the Smith and Wesson.
The price of caution and parking the truck out of sight on a rainy night was getting soaking wet while walking to unit 73. Standing on the small porch, he slipped black gloves onto each hand. He was not surprised to discover the front door was locked. However, jimmying a lock was an easy trick to an experienced thief. Because there was a light on somewhere in the trailer he practised stealth. Although it was in the middle of the night, there was still a chance that she might be awake and watching TV.
Experienced fingers easily unlocked the door and with ears and eyes alert, he entered the trailer. A quick reconnoiter through the dim surroundings indicated that she must be in the bedroom. Soft footsteps carried him down the narrow hall and as the schematic indicated, the bedroom was on his left. Opening the door, careful not to make it squeak, he entered the dark room.
The dim light from the hall was enough to silhouette the bed. He took a few steps into the bedroom, aimed the semi-automatic at the pillow and fired three quick shots into it. The silencer did its job only producing three muffled air blast. Knowing that he needed to take a picture of the body he reached for the light and with phone camera in hand turned back to take the picture of a dead Doctor.
Because his mind was filled with drugs it took him a moment to realize something was terribly wrong. All he saw was a pillow with three bullet holes in it and the surrounding air filled with floating feathers. She was not there. He went down the hall and opened the door to the twin’s bedroom. They too were not there. A frantic search of the rest of the trailer came up empty. Nobody was home. Suddenly he saw five grand with wings flying out the window. It didn’t take him long to realize that now he was even deeper in debt. How was he going to repay Deputy Grant Lloyd the money he had accepted to do the job? However, when it came to money and getting rich, all was not lost. There was still the plan to inherit a shopping mall and the property over on Jasper Street. He would just have to hurry that schedule along a bit, that’s all.
A strange sound woke up Doctor Fran Jorden. With head buried deep into a soft pillow, she didn’t know what it was but thought it might be one of the twins going to the bathroom. She listened for a minute but when hearing nothing else, she tried to get back to sleep. However, the rigors of the seven hour drive to her parent’s house in Willow Brook had taken a toll. Although her eyes were closed tight trying to force sleep to return, her mind was a beehive of activity and fear.
Casting the covers aside, she got up, snuck past her parent’s bedroom and checked in on the boys who were sleeping in a room down the hall. Both were sound asleep on the floor on an air mattress. Walking downstairs to the Living room, she sat in the lounger, reached for the rest of her beer and lit up a smoke. She was glad she took the Deputy’s sage advice and moved away from the trailer park. But it was not the long drive keeping her awake.
By character, she had never been a bad person. In school she sided with the good kids and even bravely once stood up to a bully. Fran Jorden was never late for school and always earned good marks. Even in grade school all Fran wanted to do was help people, especially children. Because of that admirable quality she attended a university and studied hard for a Master’s degree in Psychology. That was what now chewed away at her defeated soul. She wanted to help children. How did her life come to this? Thousands of dollars had eroded her admiral resolve and exposed greed.
Why had she not questioned what the government wanted to do with the children? Money had blinded her ethics. Money was a chance to survive a divorce and give the twins a good life. When recognizing that the children she sold to the Factory were never coming back, quilt and fear screamed at her to run, run for her life. But now she understood that running away was not going to clear her conscience. That was what prevented sleep. Screaming scruples danced in her head. Pretending that she didn’t know wh
at would become of the lost children festered to the surface and pointed guilty fingers at her. That was enough. She now knew what she had to do.
Chapter 27
Gary and Sam are held in detention in a small room with no furnishing or facilities. As Gary was inspecting one of the walls, he turned to Sam and said,
“It’s only paneling. I bet we could tear it off and escape.”
Sam was sitting on the floor leaning against another wall. Knees were tucked up to her chest with head buried in her hands. Without looking up she replied,
“We are in a mineshaft. Go ahead and tear it away but you will only discover solid rock.”
Conceding the point, he then wandered over to the door. Testing the door handle confirmed that it was locked.
Wondering what he was doing, she looked up to see him patting the walls with the palm of his hands. She thought he might be testing the firmness, perhaps hoping that like the tunnel back there, his hand might somehow pass through it. She shook her head and wished she had listened to her dad. He had constantly warned her never to go near the mine, that it was not only unnatural but deadly as well. At a loss for an escape, defeated, Gary crossed the floor and slumped down next to Sam. He asked,
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