by Roger Hayden
He folded his arms and leaned back. “Because they’ve been calling around nearly every department looking for you. I got a hint of what he wanted. I must say, it’s a very strange case.”
“They insist on talking with me, sir.” She then paced across the large red carpet, deep in thought. “I just don’t know what they expect me to do.”
Watterson’s chair creaked as he leaned forward and placed his hands flat on the surface of his shiny desk. “Now, I don’t want you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.” He cleared his throat and then continued with a shift in tone. “But if you choose to assist with the case, I think it could reflect very well on our department. Good publicity, selfless and civic minded,” he said. “We’re nearing the end of our fiscal year. Consider, for a moment, potential funding.”
Miriam stopped and turned to the captain, slightly confused. “Are you saying that you want me to help these detectives?”
“Just talk to them,” he said. “Get a feel for the case, then we can discuss it afterward. If you’re game, I’ll get their police captain on the line and work out the travel pay and expenses.”
Miriam nodded in agreement but felt an uneasiness in her gut. Quite opposite from what she had believed, the captain was all for it, and with his support, she found her resistance dwindling. Cases like this seemed to follow her no matter where she went.
The Suspect
He watched the Food Mart parking lot from within his blue GMC van. Dashboard vents blew cool air on his face, a relief on an otherwise hot day. He had been in the parking lot for what seemed like hours, waiting for his moment. He sat and watched vehicles come and go, mothers with children going into the Food Mart and then coming out with carts full of groceries.
He sucked on his straw, drinking the last of a soda that by now was mostly melted ice. His oversize sunglasses shielded his eyes, while the sun visors provided shade and privacy. He never remained in one parking space too long.
Despite his brazen actions, he was also a cautious man and always felt as though he was being watched. Paranoia was part of the game. That afternoon, he had come prepared to find someone a young girl. Though as the hour slipped by, he would have settled for any child if the right opportunity presented itself. He was beginning to think maybe he should try again another day or in a different place. That was, until he caught sight of a Jeep Cherokee racing down the parking aisle and pulling into a space across from him, the driver in an obvious hurry.
He fiddled with the radio and looked down at his cell phone in an attempt to remain inconspicuous. Two lanky teenagers passed his windshield carrying skateboards, followed by a bagger pushing the cart of an elderly woman who walked right next to his van.
He watched the Jeep Cherokee with growing interest. A woman quickly emerged from the driver’s side, rushing out. She said something to the passenger before shutting the door. Looking more closely, he could see the reflection of a girl in the passenger-side mirror, eyes down and preoccupied with something in her lap.
The woman—the girl’s mother, he presumed—closed her door and walked off rapidly toward the store with her purse over her shoulder. He turned back to examine the Cherokee and couldn’t believe his luck.
There, not twenty feet away, sat what looked like a girl all by herself, for how long, he did not know. Clearly, the mother would return soon. She had left the vehicle running. This gave him a limited amount of time. He spied on the Cherokee with a pair of small binoculars, ensuring that no one else was in the vehicle with the girl.
The doors were probably locked, and he would have to find a way in—an angle. But that was fine. He was prepared for this, as he had been many times in the past.
He grabbed his bucket and reflector vest and exited his van after turning the ignition off. Normally during any stakeout, he’d only run the van intermittently just to cool off for five to ten minutes. His van was, in fact, a former county-owned law enforcement vehicle he had purchased at a state auction years prior.
It had a caged divider separating the front from the back, making it difficult for anyone seated in the back to get out on their own. The van had worked wonders in the past, and he was prepared to spring into action with his latest experiment. The orange bucket he carried was filled with delicious fruit snacks. His vest indicated his role in a local charity. He also wore a lanyard with a fake name, ID, and badge number dangling from his neck.
He’d offer the candy as a treat, a gift, waiving the standard minimum donation of one quarter. Children were naturally suspicious, inquisitive beings. He had learned that much over the years, but his bright smile, calm demeanor, and American flag hat seemed to make both adults and children less suspicious of him overall.
He stopped at the hood of his van while looking at both ends of the parking aisle. For the moment, he knew that he stood out among the families, baby strollers, and elderly women parading through the parking lot, but he wouldn’t be long. He crossed the parking aisle, mere inches from the Cherokee. From the rear passenger mirror, he could see the girl looking downward, taking no notice of his approach, with the faint glow of her tablet screen upon her face.
The glimpse he’d had of her in the mirror convinced him that she was perfect. It would be a shame to have to abort the mission. He crept to the window carefully, keeping his peripheral vision on the girl to take notice of any sudden movements.
He looked around the parking lot again, on watch for the girl’s mother, but she was nowhere to be seen. No one seemed to notice or care about his presence, especially given his advantageous concealment beside a large truck, elevated to near eye-level with mud tires. This cast a comforting shade upon him and furthered his anticipation.
He brought his hand to the window and lightly knocked. The girl, predictably, jumped and looked up at him with a combination of fear and suspicion. He didn’t blame her, of course. She was perfectly justified in being wary of him.
“Hi,” he said with a wave and a smile. “I’m David. Just walking by when I saw you sitting here. How are you doing? Good?”
The girl nodded nervously. Her fine brown hair lay across her shoulder, damp, as though she had recently showered. She was dressed in a sleeveless shirt and shorts. He reached into his bucket and pulled out a piece of candy in a colorful wrapper. “We’re handing out candy to raise awareness of the environment. You know, like clean air and water.”
The girl nodded again. Her hazel eyes were apprehensive, and she clearly wasn’t interested in a conversation with a stranger.
“Would you like a piece while you wait for your mom?” he said in the nicest tone he could muster. The girl stared. She couldn’t speak, that much he understood. Though the more frightened she was, the more compliant she would most likely be. “How about you roll down your window a crack?” he said, holding the candy up. “Come on,” he added as the girl hesitated. “I’ve got an entire bucket here. I don’t want it to go to waste.”
He beckoned her some more as her face stared at him blankly, her arm slowly reaching for the automatic window button. She clicked on the button for a split second, and the window went down a crack. “Okay,” he said with a smile. “Here you go, sweetheart.”
He slipped the candy into the crack of the window, and she reluctantly took the piece while examining its sparkly wrapper.
“Go ahead and try it, dear,” he said, his tone drenched with kindness. “If you like it, I’ll give you another piece, but don’t tell anyone, okay?” He looked around, feigning some kind of clandestine operation, one in which they were getting away with something.
As she held the candy in one hand, reserved, the girl finally spoke. “I’m fine, thank you.” Her free hand hovered toward the window button, and he quickly grabbed another piece and stuck it through the crack. “It’s so good. Trust me.” He then paused with a widened smile. “What’s your name?”
The girl simply shook her head in response. For a moment, he feared he was losing her. If the window went back up, no amount of c
oaxing would bring her out of that car. “Come on, sweetie. Tell me your name.”
“Natalie…” the girl said softly.
“That’s such a nice name.”
He pushed the next candy in as far as it would go and urged the girl to eat her first piece.
“It’s for a good cause,” he said. “You want to make the environment better, right?”
Natalie nodded with uncertainty. Her facial expression seemed stilted by caution. He swiftly turned his head, keeping an eye out for the mother’s inevitable return. He could see a good area behind him from the reflection in Natalie’s window. She slowly unwrapped the first candy, much to his delight, and held out the square yellow-covered chunk.
“Try it,” he said with enthusiasm. “There’s more where that came from.”
She placed the piece in her mouth and chewed. Probably just wanted him to go away, but that worked for him just fine. The girl chewed slowly, eyes in deep concentration, trying to figure out if she liked it or not.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” he said, closer now to achieving his goal. What Natalie didn’t know—what no one knew that day—was that he had injected the candies with a flavorless sedative, one so powerful that it worked in a matter of seconds.
Natalie chewed and chewed, clearly enjoying the taste. She swallowed as another piece fell into her lap. “A deal’s a deal,” he said, tipping the bill of his hat. “Don’t eat it all at once.”
She tried to take the piece as it fell into her lap, but it was already too late. Her eyelids were dropping, and he knew exactly what to do. He pulled a long rod from his pocket and stuck it through the crack of the window, pushing it toward the unlock button on her armrest.
Natalie’s head bobbed as her consciousness faded with startling speed. A pull of the lock, and he was in. With one swift glance behind him, he opened the passenger door. Natalie practically fell into his arms. Her iPad dropped from her seat and hit the pavement below. He held her, elated. His plan had so far worked, but he wasn’t yet out of the woods.
It was a short distance between the Cherokee and his van, but the girl still needed to be carried, and anything could happen. He took her in his arms, and his gloved hand set the envelope down in her place. Hearing nearby footsteps, he yanked Natalie from the car and held her against his chest as if she was just a sleeping child. One of her sandals fell onto the ground, but he had to get moving.
He ran across the parking aisle toward his van with one hand pressed against Natalie’s back and the other gripping his candy bucket. He opened the side doors of his van and placed her on the carpeted floor in the back. In this instance, she wouldn’t have to be zip-tied or further drugged. His new sedative lasted for up to two hours, plenty of time to transport her.
After slamming the doors shut, he hurried around the van to the driver’s side, swung the door open, and hopped in, starting the engine. He took a moment to breathe and scan the parking lot, where activity continued unabated. A few cars down, he saw someone he recognized sitting in a silver Mercedes, unsure if the man had noticed him or not. Like a phantom, he was about to disappear, and no one had seen a thing. He was certain of this as he backed out and then floored it out of the parking lot, emboldened by his success. He was getting better at it. There was no doubt about that.
***
Miriam sat at her desk with Detective Hayes and Detective Shelton both on the screen of her computer monitor for their private one on one, in which she heard the known details surrounding Natalie Forester’s disappearance. They showed her pictures of the letter left at the scene that had specifically called her out by name.
Find Miriam Castillo first, then maybe we can talk, the letter had ended.
Whoever had cut and glued the tiny magazine letters to the paper didn’t seem to know that Miriam had since changed her last name. The message was chilling, nonetheless.
“I don’t know who this person is,” she said, looking up at the detectives. “I think the best thing I can do is not be involved with this investigation. It’s clearly a ploy for attention.”
Detective Hayes nodded sympathetically. “We read all about the Snatcher case, Ma’am. I know the hell you and your family went through, but rest assured, that isn’t going to happen this time.”
Detective Shelton cut in. “We can put your family under protective watch during the investigation if you’d like.”
Miriam placed both palms flat on her desk and leaned forward, her mouth a single, straight line. “Gentlemen, that’s not going to happen. My daughter is in school. I take her to counseling at least twice a week. She’s getting better, I can feel it, and I’m not going to subject her to any more trauma. Period.”
Miriam’s decision seemed final to her, though the letter had undoubtedly intrigued her. Despite her tough exterior, she felt vulnerable inside, fragile even. “I just don’t know what help I could possibly provide you. I don’t do field work anymore. I don’t even carry a weapon.”
The two detectives glanced at each other in thought as Hayes cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Your captain and police chief are both supportive of the idea. I’m not trying to twist your arm, Lieutenant, but time is of the essence.”
Miriam got the message. They were boxing her in, leaving her little choice but to leave the safety of her desk and hunt another psychotic predator. She knew it. She rose from her desk, ID badge dangling from the neck of her dress shirt, and leaned closer to the monitor.
“You need to get this madman out of hiding, right? Lure him out. That’s what you need me for, isn’t it?” She plopped back down into her chair. “I’m sorry, but I don’t wish to be a part of it.”
The detectives looked at each other again, clearly disappointed. Hayes grimaced but nodded in understanding. “I understand your concerns,” he said. “If you change your mind, please give myself or Detective Shelton a call. I’ll send you my email as well. Thank you for your time.”
Detective Shelton waved and thanked her as well, but both men couldn’t mask the dispirited tones in their voices. Hayes looked at his screen one last time and offered some parting words. “Just remember, Lieutenant. We’re here because of those two girls. That’s it. There aren’t any tricks up our sleeves. We have no intention of using you. Detective Shelton and I, we just think that if anyone was to catch this sicko, you’d be the one. We’re asking for your expertise, that’s all.”
Miriam considered his words and cupped a hand over her chin, thinking. She wanted to help, but she had lost too much the last time, enough to make her wish she had never gotten involved, not that she had had much of a choice. But if there was any chance that she could help, it was her responsibility as a decent person to do something about it. She ran her hand down her face with a sigh.
“I believe you, Detective Hayes. I really do. I know time is critical, but I need to think about it first.”
Hayes appeared satisfied and told her that it was all they were asking for. “That’s all we ask.”
On the Case
Miriam arrived at home after a long day, knowing that she and Lou had plans for a special dinner. They had been dating for just over a year, and it was their anniversary. Friends on the force, they had grown close during the Snatcher case and even closer when it was all over with. Their relationship blossomed and flourished naturally to something fresh and exciting.
Following the unimaginable loss of her ex-husband, Freddy, Lou had provided unconditional care and support to her and Ana. Miriam couldn’t help but fall for him, and they wasted no time deciding to move, together with Ana, to Phoenix. They lived in a three-bedroom house in Villa da Paz, a suburban community known as the Valley of the Sun.
Miriam sat thinking in her Nissan Sentra under a darkening orange sky as she postponed going inside. She could sense the inevitable decision before her. She was going to agree to help with the investigation. It wasn’t just the two missing girls; Miriam couldn’t help but wonder who was looking for her and why. It could be just a random crazy p
erson, but her curiosity was getting the better of her. She supposed that it was in her nature to find such things out. She had to get to the bottom of things. At heart, she would always be a detective.
It was six thirty p.m. Lou’s truck was parked next to her. Ana was supposed to be in her room diligently working on her homework. Miriam gripped her steering wheel, flushed with uncertainty. She didn’t want to put her family at risk again, chasing ghosts in the dark. Lou would object immediately, that much was clear. And just what would she tell Ana?
There was a lot to consider in such a short amount of time. The two girls Detective Hayes had told her about were still missing. Their names were April and Natalie, and with every minute, their chances of survival were growing slimmer.
Miriam grabbed her purse, opened the door, and stepped out of her car. The air was slightly cooler, and her cul-de-sac was quiet. She walked past her car toward the concrete walkway leading to the front door. Her yard, like many on her street, was absent of grass and filled with stones. A lone tree loomed in the middle of the front yard. Trim bushes lined the front of the house, planted below the windows.
Their garage door was always closed, still full of boxes they hadn’t unpacked yet. Time had moved so fast, and Lou, Ana, and Miriam were always so busy. She hoped that one day they could take a vacation and get away from it all. However, such a simple plan seemed further away than ever before.
The porch light was on, with the sun quickly descending below the horizon. Miriam was surprised to find it so late. Her day had been a whirlwind from the crack of dawn, and it wasn’t showing any signs of letting up. She walked inside and through the foyer into the living room, where the lights and television were on.
She heard pops and hisses from the kitchen and the aroma of ground beef and noodles in the air. Lou was cooking. She set her purse down on a lamp stand, kicked her heels off, and walked toward the kitchen, where Lou was making dinner. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans and had his back turned toward her.