by Roger Hayden
Shelton laughed, waving Miriam off. “It’s fine. Trust me.”
“Yes,” Hayes added. “We have some locations narrowed down. You should really see the board first.”
“That would help,” Miriam said with a tinge of sarcasm.
“Everyone, this is Wendy Dawson,” Shelton said.
Miriam and Corporal Taylor introduced themselves with smiles and handshakes. “Wendy’s a local from town,” he continued. “The police sergeant’s neighbor, actually.”
Wendy smiled and spoke with a childlike voice that nearly matched her appearance. “I just want to do what I can to help,” she said. “Parents are terrified around here now. Lots of them don’t even want their kids going outside.”
“We can’t thank you enough, Wendy,” Shelton said.
Hayes turned to the closed double doors at the front of the station and held his arm out. “Shall we go inside?”
The corporal glanced at his patrol car, longingly it seemed, to the notice of Detective Hayes.
“Give us a few minutes before you make your coffee run, please.”
Taylor nodded and pushed ahead, opening the doors for the group as they walked into the small-town police station that looked practically empty. The lobby was surrounded by tall counters that sectioned the area off into a square. An empty desk lay beyond the front counter, and Miriam could see another police officer pacing back and forth beyond the glass partition. They followed Taylor as he pushed past a swinging wooden divider between the lobby and the office area.
“Sergeant Bennett is on the phone right now. He’s been tied up the past few days, as you can imagine,” he said.
“How many officers work here?” Miriam asked, stunned to see so many empty desks sitting on the green vinyl flooring.
“There’s three others. Two of ’em work the night shift. The other one’s out on patrol,” he answered.
They walked past several vacant desks and into a back room as sunlight beamed in through the slits of closed blinds along the way. As Miriam entered, it became obvious to her that the detectives had been busy. The room held a large whiteboard with a map of the city, a television showing static on the screen, and a table with stacks of files and paperwork.
The map was marked to designate the areas of the kidnappings and the nearest—and ultimately sparse—security cameras in the town. They had their own operation going, and things began to make more sense to her.
“What’s my role in all this?” she asked as they gathered around the table, with Wendy pacing the room and looking at a nearby bulletin board of crime scene photos.
“By now, he has to know that you’ve joined the case,” Hayes began. “We’re expecting another note very soon. And we’re also expecting him to strike again.”
Shelton pressed a button on a mixer board next to the television, which then began displaying black-and-white security footage playing at three times the regular speed. “Here we have six hours of footage from the two traffic light cameras in town. During the time both girls were abducted, there is no image of a blue van anywhere.” He stopped the video and continued speaking.
“However, some three hours before the first and second kidnappings, we have this…” He sped the footage along as the time code at the bottom of the screen went backward. The image then paused at a blurry image of a blue van crossing the intersection.
“There,” he said, pointing at the screen. “We’ve got that van marked three times within the hour before Natalie’s abduction.”
Miriam approached the screen in disbelief. They couldn’t see the driver or the license plate of the van, as the image had been shot from the front, but she was certain, nonetheless, that it was the van they were looking for. She turned to the two detectives, impressed with what they had captured. “You guys have been busy, haven’t you?”
“Don’t thank us,” Hayes said, slapping Corporal Taylor on the back. “The corporal here has been on this for the past day or two.”
“Do you have any footage from the area where April was abducted?” Miriam asked.
Taylor looked down in disappointment. “Unfortunately not. The surveillance company wipes their servers every week.”
Miriam scoffed in disbelief. “Why would they do that?”
Taylor shook his head with a sheepish grin. “We don’t normally have cases of this, um… magnitude here in Odessa.”
Detective Shelton moved away from the screen and approached the big board, where the map was displayed. There, areas of the two abductions, across town from each other, were circled and dotted lines showed the assumed route of their suspect throughout town, with greater focus on the main business sector and through the town hall and parks. The working surveillance spots were pinpointed with thin thumbtacks approximately three blocks apart. They had highlighted a route through the downtown area and the nearest residential neighborhood, where April had disappeared, ending at the Food Mart parking lot.
A large circle had been drawn on the map, past elementary schools, public parks, and the Odessa Plaza, where young people often hung out. There was no doubt that their suspect had scoped these places out—that he had probably been scoping them out for a while. The only question was, why hadn’t he struck sooner?
“He’s been biding his time,” Miriam said, observing the map carefully. The pattern before her was as clear as the highlighted circle that encompassed the territory of their suspect. “And now his game has started.”
“That’s why we’re going to put an end to this thing and save those girls before it’s too late,” Hayes said.
Shelton stepped away from the board and picked up some glossy photos from the table, grainy black-and-white images of the van. “We’ve distributed these photos throughout the county and even sent some to the local news stations. So far, we’ve got nothing.”
“He’s ditched the van by now,” Miriam said. “We need to find out where.”
“In time,” Hayes added. “The important thing is that he knows that you’re on the case, or at least we think he knows that you’re on the case. We want him to think that everything is going just as planned.”
Miriam looked at Wendy sympathetically as the young-looking nineteen-year-old sat across from her at the cluttered table, quiet and attentive. “I’m sorry, but I do have reservations about this.”
“What do you mean?” Hayes asked.
“Do your parents know?” she asked the girl.
Wendy nodded enthusiastically. “Sure they do. And besides, I’m nineteen.”
“It’s risky,” Miriam said. “We don’t know who we’re dealing with here.”
Hayes and Shelton exchanged glances as Corporal Taylor stood to the side, staying out of it. Hayes then leaned on the table next to Miriam and spoke with his most reassuring tone. “County investigators will be on site in unmarked cars. There will be at least another dozen police officers surrounding the area and ready to strike.”
“I want to do this, Ms. Sandoval,” Wendy said, speaking out. “This is important for me. I’m planning on going to the police academy and working in law enforcement. It’s the best starting point I could ask for.”
“I don’t know,” Miriam said, rubbing her head. “Do you really think this could work?”
Shelton cleared his throat. “You haven’t seen the final components to the plan.” He then walked to the corner of the room and grabbed a large black plastic case by the handle and hauled it near the table. He pulled open the latches and opened the container, revealing an expensive-looking miniature drone helicopter, wrapped in protective padding, and complete with a control panel and several monitor screens.
Shelton continued. “As you’ve probably assumed, Lieutenant, this is a covert operation. We don’t want our suspect to know he’s being followed.”
He paused and then walked to the map, pointing at the corner of Main Street and Albany. “The drone will track his movements from the initial pick-up spot, here, all the way across town, probably along this route and hopef
ully right to his home,” he said, dragging his finger across the map.
“At that point, we step in,” Hayes added.
Miriam leaned against the table, thinking. Shelton’s approach could take days depending on the assumption that he would strike again, on the assumption that he would go after their decoy, and the assumption that he was even still in town. She gathered her thoughts the best she could, took a step away from the table, and then offered her assessment.
“I applaud the work you’ve done here so far, and Wendy, I admire your bravery and generosity.” She took a step back and examined the map on the wall. “I just need to think about this and assess ways in which it could be improved. Give me a minute.”
The detectives seemed satisfied enough, everyone nodding as Corporal Taylor leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, looking a bit tired. Miriam couldn’t imagine the hours he had spent viewing security footage the past day.
“It’s a good plan,” Hayes said. “The best thing we have going for us now.”
Suddenly Sergeant Bennett rushed into the room, breathing heavily and looking distraught. He halted, surprised by the new faces surrounding him, but did his best to be polite.
“Hi, sorry about that,” he said. “I’ve been tied up on the phone for hours, it seems.”
He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with tan, leathery skin and trim gray hair combed to one side. He didn’t look like a man who spent a lot of time at a desk. He shook the detectives’ hands as though he was acquainted with them already and turned to Miriam with the same questioning look she had received from Corporal Taylor.
“Miriam?” he asked.
“Yes, Sergeant. Lieutenant Sandoval at your service,” she said.
He gently placed both hands around her hand. “It’s a pleasure. I can’t thank you enough for helping us out with this. I don’t know why this nut keeps asking for you in these letters, but with your help, we’re going to find him and stop him.”
Corporal Taylor took his hands out of his pockets and looked at Miriam, interjecting. “Yeah. Got some calls yesterday. Sounded like a nut or two who wanted to make sure you were in town.”
Shocked, Miriam turned around. “What? You’re just saying this now?”
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” he continued. “I neither confirmed nor denied. They sounded like prank calls, frankly.”
Sergeant Bennett seemed dismayed by the revelation, knowing that Miriam wanted to stay out of the spotlight. “And I don’t suppose you logged the calls or tried to get a trace?”
Taylor shook his head. “Logged ’em, but they came from an unavailable number.”
The sergeant ran a hand down his face with a sigh. “Please do a better job of keeping me in the loop, Corporal.”
“Roger, Sergeant,” Taylor said, his face flushed with embarrassment.
Miriam felt as though she needed to step away for a moment and get her thoughts together. Too much, it seemed, was happening at once, and she was beginning to feel more like an outsider.
“Do you mind if I take the car to the store?” she asked Detective Hayes.
He looked around, digging into his pocket, slightly confused. “We were hoping that you could consult with us first. We want to talk tactics and strategy and make use of the expert we’ve brought in.”
“And we will,” she said. “I just want to get a feel for the town and pick some coffee up on my way.”
“At the Food Mart?” Hayes asked.
“Of course,” Miriam said.
“What’s going on?” Shelton asked, approaching them.
“The lieutenant wants to get coffee,” Hayes said, holding his car keys with hesitation.
Shelton turned to Miriam, surprised. “What? No, we need to strategize.” He then looked at Corporal Taylor, who was leaning against the wall. “The corporal here can get the coffee.”
“Please,” Miriam said. “I’ll only be gone a minute. I need to go back to the Food Mart and look at the scene.”
Shelton seemed to study her with a fair amount of skepticism. “If you say so. It’s just a strange time to be making coffee runs.”
“I need to take a drive and get my thoughts together. I’ll be much better use after that,” Miriam said.
Shelton and Hayes exchanged glances as Hayes reluctantly handed her his keys.
“Thank you,” Miriam said. She then spoke to the room. “What kind of coffee do you want me to pick up?
“I’ll go with you,” Taylor said, grabbing his police cap from atop a filing cabinet.
Sergeant Bennett raised his head from his notes on the table. “That’s okay, Corporal. We’ve got a lot to do here.”
Taylor paused, hat in hand, and nodded with a slight look of disappointment.
“Folgers would be fine, Ma’am,” the sergeant added.
“No problem,” Miriam said with a sudden perkiness in her tone.
“Lieutenant Sandoval, are you okay?” Hayes asked, blocking her path as she walked toward the door.
She stopped and looked at his concerned face. “I’m fine, really. A quick drive through town will get my wheels turning.”
Shelton joined the conversation with an encouraging tone. “Just remember, you’re an asset to this case, whether you realize it now or not.”
“Thank you, Detective,” she said. “I’m confident that we’ll get this guy.”
Hayes then moved out of her path, and she left the room with a wave and her satchel over her shoulder. Picking up coffee was indeed a part of the plan, but what she really wanted to do was get a layout of the town beyond what she had seen.
She wanted to think about Shelton’s plan and how it was going to work. She admired their tenacity and quick thinking, but setting up a trap, as she had experienced in the past, could sometimes backfire. Outside the room, she walked between the two rows of vacant office desks and through the lobby, where she pushed open the double door entrance and stepped outside, shielding her face from the sun. Traffic zipped past the police station as Miriam dug into her satchel for her sunglasses to give her eyes a rest from the brightness outside.
She approached the Crown Victoria and its dusty windshield and opened the driver’s side door, stepping inside. She started the car and pulled her notebook out, flipping to the page on which she had written her detailed schedule. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to do some quick investigation. As effective as the plan may be, she couldn’t sit idly and wait for the kidnapper to emerge. She was going to find him one way or another, and taking initiative was part of that.
Messages
April Johnson’s sprawling neighborhood was strangely quiet, with not a person outside in a yard or walking about. Miriam drove down the long road of nearly identical one-story homes, flat roofs, chain-link fences, and lawns in various shades of green or brown green or brown, and some with no lawns at all. There were cars parked along both sides of the narrow, cracked-pavement road, and the houses had their blinds shut and doors and gates closed.
Empty trash cans sat at the ends of the driveways, some tipped over, partly lying in the street. She hadn’t seen a neighborhood like it in some time, a place with something unseen and threatening hanging over it. Hayes had told her that after April’s disappearance, it had become a place guarded and vigilant. She could sense people watching her from their windows even though there wasn’t a person to be seen.
Miriam circled the block only to see more empty streets and blind-drawn homes, toys littered throughout yards and empty kiddie pools and jungle gyms with no children around to enjoy them. It was as though the neighborhood was on lockdown. Yet, the visible toys could be an invitation in itself to the wrong person.
Farther down the road, she saw a station wagon pull out of a small driveway and drive toward her. She exchanged a quick glance with a blonde-haired woman with two girls in the back seat. A dog charged at her car from a fenced-in yard to her right, running along the chain links and barking. She looked ahead, glancing at the GPS on her phone. April
’s home was near, a quarter mile down the road.
Miriam imagined how close April had been to her home before being kidnapped. There was no official evidence linking the blue van to April’s disappearance, just a guess. For all anyone knew, she could have run away from home. According to her parents, however, that was something she would never do, and Miriam believed them. Her disappearance was no coincidence. The self-described chancellor had confirmed as much in his latest letter.
She approached April’s nice-looking house with its mixed river-rock yard and trimmed bushes under large windows with closed Venetian blinds. There were two vehicles in the driveway, an Oldsmobile Cutlass and a Ford F-150. Miriam considered stopping and knocking on the door, telling April’s parents that there was still hope for their daughter and that Miriam knew what it was like to go through such a terrible ordeal. But she didn’t know if it would help. How could it?
April’s parents had said very little publicly. Miriam could imagine their fear, uncertainty, and absolute devastation. She slowed at their house, and from the corner of her eye, saw a woman open her front door across the street and step outside, glaring at Miriam’s car, being protective it seemed. She then noticed a man peer out of his blinds from another house to the right. The woman grabbed the newspaper on her doorstep and slipped back into her home, closing the door, as the man continued staring, opening the blinds a bit. Miriam saw that he was holding a phone to his ear. She sensed that her unfamiliar presence was raising suspicion and fear.
She drove past the Johnson house, leaving it behind in all its sadness. She imagined how many times the man in the blue van had circled the block, as she was doing, before finding his victim. What kind of vehicle was he driving now? And what, exactly, did he want from her?
She circled around and drove back to April’s friend’s house, roughly a third of a mile away. There were homes on both sides of the road until she reached a three-way stop with a cleared lot on one corner and sporadic leafless trees and brown grass on the other.
If their suspect was going to stop and lure, or force, a girl into his van, Miriam thought this would be the only spot where he could have done it without anyone seeing. Witness statements from residents in the area had been recorded in April’s file, with persons confirming that they had seen nothing unusual around the neighborhood during the time of April’s disappearance. But how was such a thing possible in broad daylight on a residential street?