by Roger Hayden
Her hair was brushed back, and her light makeup accentuated her high cheekbones. She knew, in a self-conscious way, that she’d be meeting a few new faces that day, and she wanted to make a good first impression. Upon reaching the third floor, Miriam stepped out of the elevator and received several nods and greetings from coworkers as she walked down the hall to her office. Suddenly, Janice, a caseworker, called to Miriam as she passed her cubicle.
“Hey, the captain wants to see you,” Janice said, rising from her chair.
Miriam stopped and sighed quietly to herself. Not even at her desk yet and already being summoned to his office. She could only imagine why.
“Sure thing,” she said.
Despite being summoned, she walked three doors down and unlocked her office door anyway, placing her purse inside. It would be good to establish the ground rules with Watterson before the trip. She wanted to make sure that she had the full support of the department before leaving. She’d never crossed jurisdictions in such a manner, at least as far as she could remember. She checked herself in the mirror and stepped back out into the hall.
She approached Captain Watterson’s office and could already see him sitting at his desk, typing on his computer. As she entered, Watterson greeted her with a hearty “hello” and asked her to sit.
“I talked with Captain Vasquez, and everything is set.”
“Yes, I spoke with Detective Hayes. My flight leaves this morning.”
The captain pointed to a chair across from his desk and beckoned her to sit. “Close the door, please. If you don’t mind.”
Miriam turned to his thick glass door and gently closed it. She’d never been to Odessa before and had no knowledge of the town or its community. Hayes had described it as a small, close-knit town, a place where crime was low and kidnappings were relatively unheard of.
As she sat, Captain Watterson leaned forward with his hands folded. “We think you’ll be a tremendous asset to this unfortunate case. Make sure to update us on any progress, and please, do your best out there.” He smiled like a proud father as he looked at her, exposing wrinkles above his cheeks and on his forehead.
“I plan to,” Miriam said. “I just hope I can help. I’m a little rusty with field work.”
“I think you’ll do great,” Vasquez said. “With your skills, you’ll knock this case out in less than a week and find those girls before it’s too late.”
Miriam certainly hoped so too but felt troubled by their expectations.
“I need a weapon,” she said outright. “I qualified six months ago.”
“I’m sorry?” he asked.
“I’m not going out there without a piece. And I need the clearance papers to board the plane.”
Captain Vasquez looked around and ran his hands across his crew-cut hair. “Yeah… we’ll get you set up. See the armorer before you leave.” He then pointed at her with sternness. “But don’t do anything rash out there. Keep things low-key.”
“I will,” she said.
He handed her a file labeled with her name. “Here’s all your paperwork. The department put all of this together in a very short time, which should show you the degree of faith we have in your abilities.”
“I appreciate it, sir,” she said, taking the file.
“Good luck out there, Lieutenant. We’ll see you in four days. I want a daily report of your status.”
“Yes sir,” she said. “Thank you.”
Miriam departed the captain’s office, file in hand. She swung by her office one last time to grab some files and case notes, placing them in a satchel. She was about as prepared as she was going to get. Her next stop was the armory. A 9mm Beretta would do just fine.
She left the station that morning feeling a nervous anticipation of things to come. She was excited but also afraid. Someone was waiting for her in Odessa, and they weren’t going to stop. Miriam’s mind raced with a profile of their suspect. White male, late thirties to early forties. She knew the type. If he turned out to be any different, she’d be surprised. She took a taxi to the airport with her carry-on luggage in the trunk. Uncertainty awaited her in Odessa, but she couldn’t remember a time in the past year where she felt so alive.
The Arrival
The flight to Midland International took just under two hours. As soon as they were settled in their seats, Miriam typed into her laptop, planning her next steps. She’d have to visit the crime scene and read every report and witness statement on file. She typed her assessment of both detectives and what she knew of them. Hayes was naturally interested in the Snatcher case and had acknowledged the similarities between the two cases, from the ages of the girls to inexplicable disappearances.
Turbulence rattled the small plane as they prepared to land. From her window seat, Miriam looked out at the homes below them, surrounded by desert, much like Phoenix. It was mid-fall, and the heat index was lowering. They hit the runway, and Miriam watched it blur past the windows. The twenty-passenger plane slowed and taxied to its gate farther down the runway, and Miriam was struck with the realization that she was doing this.
After landing, Miriam exited the gate and entered the moderately sized terminal. She walked toward arrivals, pulling her small wheeled suitcase across the tile floor, past turnstiles and finally past the baggage claim carousels and toward the exit.
The automatic doors opened, blowing warm outside air into her face. She continued outside to see Detective Hayes’s dusty silver Crown Victoria parked on the curb. Both men sat in the front seat and waved to her. Detective Shelton stepped out of the car as Hayes popped the trunk.
“Welcome to Texas, Ma’am,” Shelton said, taking her bag.
“Thank you,” she said as he closed the trunk and opened the front passenger door for her to step in. She thanked him and settled back as he closed her door. There was a collection of empty Styrofoam coffee cups and wrappers on the stained, carpeted floor, and his ashtray was pulled out and filled with pistachio shells.
Shelton opened the door behind her and sat in the back seat as Hayes drove off, wipers clearing the dust from the windshield. The entire car needed a good cleaning.
“The department’s about twenty minutes away,” Hayes said, merging into traffic.
“Ector County PD?” she asked.
“That’s the one,” Hayes answered.
“What kind of police station does Odessa have?”
Shelton laughed from the back seat. Miriam turned her head and glanced at him, curious.
Hayes calmly interjected as they pulled onto a busy three-lane highway. “What my partner is trying to convey is that Odessa’s police department is second only to Mayberry’s.”
Shelton then cleared his throat and changed the subject to the case at hand. “Based on what you’ve read so far, Lieutenant, do you think our suspect is a local or an outsider?”
“I think we’re looking for a Caucasian male, early thirties to late forties,” Miriam said.
Shelton glanced down at his open pocket-sized notebook. “That’s our assessment as well.”
Sunlight flashed against Miriam’s face between intervals of utility poles along the road. She then held her cell phone and sent Lou a text to let him know that she had landed while continuing the conversation. “Is he an outsider? I highly doubt it.”
“I hope not. That’ll make him easier to catch,” Detective Hayes added.
“That’s not always the case,” Miriam said. “If he’s local, he knows the area. He’s aware that the police are looking for him, and he’ll be doing his best to stay hidden.”
Hayes grabbed the hand mic from a police radio hanging below the dashboard, announcing their near arrival. “This is Hayes. We’re back and en route to the station.”
After a brief pause of crackling static, a voice responded. “10-4, Detective. I’ll let the captain know that you’re close.”
“Any update on the 207 from yesterday?” Hayes asked. Miriam recognized that as police code for kidnapping.
�
��Nothing yet,” the dispatcher said.
“Roger that. Over and out,” Hayes said, relinquishing the hand mic to its clip. They continued some distance, and then Hayes asked if anyone was hungry. “There’s a truck stop up the road we can stop at.”
Both Miriam and Shelton declined, and although she was hungry, she wanted to get settled in and get a feel for the town as quickly as possible. Four days wasn’t a very long time, but she wanted a schedule in which to push herself.
Shelton leaned forward and handed her a thick file folder. “Here you go, Lieutenant. This should catch you up on everything.”
She took the folder, opening it carefully to keep its contents intact. There were several reports, statements, documents, and photos paper-clipped together. April’s files were relegated to the left side of the folder and Natalie’s to the right.
April had last been seen leaving the house of a friend in the early evening on foot, with enough time to make it home for dinner, roughly two blocks away. Nighttime came and there was no sign of April, and her parents began to worry. A week later after reporting her missing, there had still been no sign of April despite multiple searches from police and investigators to friends and family.
Witnesses later reported seeing a van patrolling the neighborhood before April’s disappearance, a van described as “unfamiliar” by many of the residents. This same van had been described in another witness statement by a woman in the Food Mart parking lot. In cases involving missing children, Miriam believed that there were few coincidences.
Unfortunately, a countywide search for the van yielded few results, even after the news reported the most accurate description it could compile: rusty, GMC, late 1990s model with a NASA front plate. A license plate was the biggest piece missing, and without that number, there was little authorities could do beyond searching for a van that had eluded them on all fronts.
Traffic began to slow. They soon reached a busy downtown area, twenty miles east of Odessa, with plenty of retail stores, gas stations, and restaurants all along the road. The Ector County police station wasn’t too much farther.
Miriam pondered the possible identity of the man in question. A profile had already been composed in the report: male, early thirties to late fifties, and Caucasian, based on the race of his victims. He was a loner but not a hermit. He most likely had a job, remained socially active, and carried himself in such a way that didn’t bring suspicion to him or his activities.
Detective Hayes turned and then pulled into a manned gate, presenting his ID to an armed guard, who then raised the barrier arm to let them pass.
“Welcome to Ector County PD,” he said to Miriam as they drove over a speed bump and began to ascend a sharp rise leading to a large brick complex resting on top of the small hill. As Hayes circled the busy parking lot for a space, Miriam couldn’t help but feel a little nervous.
She could see news vans parked at the front of the building, their thick antennas stretched far into the sky, and wondered if they were there reporting about the missing girls. Hayes parked three rows from the station, a satisfactory enough distance from the news vans. They exited his dusty car and walked alongside each other, striding purposefully toward the station.
“How much does the local media know about the case?” she asked.
“Our department has released a few statements, but nothing substantial just yet,” Hayes said.
“If we had something, I’d be happy to share it with them,” Shelton added.
There were four vans total, each with a reporter standing outside, microphone in hand, talking to cameras.
“I don’t like this one bit,” she said. “I don’t want them to know I’m here.” She turned to the two befuddled detectives, first one, then the other, stone-faced. “My ex-husband was ambushed and murdered by Phillip Anderson—all because he found out who I was. Ana’s father is never coming back, and that’s something I live with every day. Sometimes it’s the first thought I have when I wake up in the morning.”
Hayes swallowed and nodded, respectfully quiet and seeming to understand. “I apologize… Our intentions are not to bring any attention to you or your family,” he said softly.
“We can take the back entrance to the building if you’d like,” Shelton suggested.
Miriam came close to laughing at the suggestion, but she appreciated their new tone nonetheless. “It’s okay. I just wanted to make that clear.”
“No media,” Hayes said, placing a hand over his heart. “I promise.”
They proceeded to the front entrance of the building, bypassing the news reporters, who took no notice of either detective or Miriam. However, the lack of attention didn’t prevent her from slightly shielding her face as they walked by. She had to assume that whoever had requested her presence through the mysterious “ransom letter” was also watching the news with satisfied glee.
Miriam stayed cautiously behind the two detectives as they entered the busy Ector County Police Department building. They led her past the front desk, through a security door, and then down a long hallway, with offices on both sides.
Detective Hayes was stopped a few times by plainclothes detectives, and as he chatted, Miriam tried her best to stay unnoticed. Hayes seemed to honor this and made no effort to introduce her to anyone. Rather than finding it rude, she was relieved.
Past the offices, they took a right turn down a corridor leading to the office of the police captain, Elian Vasquez, his name embossed in bold lettering on the surface of the glossy wood door. Miriam followed the detectives inside and observed Vasquez: a stout man, slightly overweight with his dark crew cut neatly trimmed.
There was a television on behind him, displaying one of the local reporters talking outside that very department. Behind his computer monitor, he was surrounded by paperwork and file folders and was deep in thought, scribbling a report. He didn’t even notice their presence until Hayes lightly knocked on the inside of the office door.
Vasquez’s head jolted up, displaying tired eyes with bags underneath, though his dark-blue uniform was neatly pressed and tucked in.
“You two,” he said, pointing at Hayes and Shelton. “Back from your little adventure, I see? Good, because I want answers.”
He had yet to take notice of Miriam. Standing in his office, she nearly felt invisible. Then, her single moment of anonymity disappeared as Hayes stepped aside and stretched his arm toward her.
“Sir, this is Lieutenant Miriam Sandoval from the Phoenix PD. She’s the woman we were telling you about.”
Vasquez narrowed his eyes at her, then leaned back in his chair with a subtle look of recognition. “Ah. Yes, Lieutenant Sandoval. Welcome aboard. They tell me that you’re willing to lend your expertise on this case. Normally, I’d be a little hesitant to bring you in, but I’ve read about you in the Snatcher case.” He suddenly stood up and held his hand out. “I’m Captain Elian Vasquez. Pleasure to meet you.”
Miriam shook his hand and gave a slight smile. “Thank you, Captain. I certainly hope I can help.”
Vasquez then pulled a paper from one of his files and set it square in the middle of his desk for everyone to see. By now, Miriam had memorized the words of the “ransom note.” The captain’s photocopy was ominous looking, with its carefully cut letters, oddly mismatched and random.
“Did you change your last name recently?” the captain asked, curiously pointing to the “Miriam Castillo” in the message.
“That’s correct,” she said.
Sensing Miriam’s reluctance to elaborate, Hayes stepped in. “That brings us to another point, sir. Miriam has been very negatively affected by media coverage in the past. We want to keep her visit here between the three of us only.”
Vasquez thought to himself and nodded. “Consider it done.” He turned around and glanced at the television in the corner behind him. A nearby a shelving unit displayed all sorts of certificates and awards. “The parents released their second statement a few hours ago. Our phones are ringing off the
hook from every concerned parent out there. They all want to know if we caught this guy yet.”
One glance at the phone on his desk showed rapidly blinking lights on every line, and Miriam could see what he meant.
“We’re going to Odessa today,” Hayes said.
Vasquez flipped through some files, distracted and antsy. “Good luck out there.”
Hayes signaled to Miriam and Shelton to leave, and they began to shuffle out the door.
“We’re on it, sir,” Hayes said in a reassuring, parting fashion.
Vasquez looked up from behind his desk and glared at them. “Don’t let me down.”
Miriam assumed that she had been left out of the equation. He was, after all, their boss and not hers. After the brief introduction to the captain, Miriam was led into the conjoining cubicles that comprised Hayes’s and Shelton’s office, complete with laptop and office phones. She took notice of Hayes’s family photos, framed and angled along his desk. He had a son and a daughter who looked to be in their teens. His wife was pretty—all smiles with long auburn hair and blue-greenish eyes. There were no such pictures on Detective Shelton’s desk, which she found intriguing. She knew what it was like to be a loner as well.
Hayes checked his messages and then packed his laptop in a carrying case as Shelton made some quick calls. Miriam sat in a chair between their desks, overhearing the conversations of a dozen other investigators commingled around them. The entire department seemed worked up in a kind of frenzy Miriam hadn’t seen since working on the Snatcher case. She waited patiently in the midst of a department immersed in itself, and with her cell phone in hand, took a moment to send Lou another text:
At the station now. It’s heated around here.
It was a quarter after three and school was out, which normally meant that he was at his desk grading papers. Thinking of Lou made her smile. She still hadn’t fully adjusted to him being a schoolteacher, and he had never given her a specific reason why he’d left the force.