Profile of Evil

by Alexa Grace

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  Moments before, Cameron pulled Carly and Brody out of Earl Haas' interview. They sat in the conference room discussing the case.

  "I don't think he's our killer," said Cameron, as he rubbed his head.

  "Why not?" Brody asked. "The bastard looks good for it to me."

  "I don't know," said Carly. "If he was our killer, why would he admit to knowing Amanda and Alison, but not the others?"

  "He's got an alibi for most of the early murders. Right out of prison, he worked on a construction crew for a new classroom building at Purdue. We found witnesses who place him at work every day, including the weekends," Cameron stated. "After he dropped off Amanda and Alison, Haas hooked up with two separate underage girls. We've talked to both of them, and they've agreed to testify against him."

  "What did the girls have to say about him?" asked Carly.

  "They both said he begged them to send him naked pictures of themselves. He wouldn't let up about it. Earl even sent one of them a new web cam," Cameron began. "Then once they sent the photos, he told them if they didn't have sex with him, he'd post the pictures on the Internet and deliver copies to their parents."

  "What a sick freak," Brody exclaimed, shaking his head in disgust.

  "Totally agree with you on that one," Cameron said. "One of them was only eleven when she had sex with him in the back of a car on four separate occasions."

  "Earl is a registered sex offender. Add these new charges to the ones he earned from the sex predator sting, and this guy's going away for a long time."

  "Earl Haas rotting in a jail cell sounds like the best deal I've heard in forever," said Carly.

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  Hal and Bettye Locke had run their farm for nearly thirty years, having purchased it just before their wedding. His wife, Bettye, loved their farm probably as much as she loved Hal. Him and Lucky, the German Shepherd they'd rescued from the dog pound three years ago. That's why Hal was wandering around on his property at a God-forsaken four in the morning looking for Lucky, who every morning but this one, practically tore down the screen door to get to his breakfast. If anything happened to that dog ... Well, Hal didn't even want to think about that.

  He'd searched the barn, shed, garden, and front yard. Hal was headed toward the doghouse the dog never liked or stayed in, when he noticed a long, furry gray tail, along with a set of human feet sticking out of the dog house. What in the hell was going on?

  Reaching the dog house, he pulled out his flashlight and bent down to get a better look. What looked like a young girl was curled into a fetal position, with Lucky's body wrapped around her, like he was trying to keep her warm, and it looked like Lucky had no intention of moving. Tapping the girl's ankle, Hal heard a soft moan, but she didn't stir. Repositioning himself to look from a different angle, he aimed the flashlight directly at the girl and saw there was blood all over her, Lucky, and the floor of the dog house. Hal's heart froze and his knees started to shake as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

  "Bettye, call nine-one-one and tell them to get an ambulance out here as quick as they can! There's a girl out here in Lucky's doghouse, and she's bleeding all over the place!"

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  It was Carly's turn to make coffee, and she planned to surprise Brody with some of the crazy-delicious Italian blend coffee Blake had given her for Christmas. Pouring the dark brew into two mugs on a tray, she added the sugar bowl and a tiny pitcher of cream next to two chocolate croissants.

  Climbing the stairs, she could hear the shower running, along with Brody singing some song she'd never heard before. Judging by his singing voice, the Sheriff should not give up his day job. Grinning from ear to ear, she set the tray down on the bedside table and knocked on the bathroom door.

  "Come in," Brody called out.

  "How did you know it was me?" Carly teased. "Do you invite just anyone who knocks into your bathroom while you're taking a shower?"

  Instead of answering, Brody reached out of the shower, grabbed the belt of her terry-cloth robe, and pulled her inside as she squealed.

  "I'm sorry," Brody began. "What was that you were saying? I couldn't hear you."

  "Brody Chase, you're getting my hair wet and we're going to be late for work if I have to dry it all over again." Pushing against his chest, she only inspired him to tighten his arms around her waist and kiss her soundly.

  Just then Brody's cell phone sounded from the bathroom counter.

  "You better get that," Carly said. "It could be the lottery department calling or something."

  "Yeah, sure," Brody said, laughing as he wrapped a towel around himself and reached for his cell phone.

  "Sheriff Chase," he answered without looking at the display. He was too busy watching Carly drop her robe and pat her skin and hair dry with a towel.

  "Sheriff, this is Natalie Jones. I'm a nurse in the Emergency Room at Morel Hospital. We've got a girl in the E.R. who looks a lot like the one in the photo your deputies are flashing around."

  "Do you mean the picture of our missing girl, Alison Brown?" Brody asked.

  "Yes, that's her name. I remembered her face, but not her name," the nurse began. "The reason I'm calling is that I believe she's just been brought in by an ambulance to the E.R. I'm sure this girl is the one in the photo."

  "I'll be right there!" Brody disconnected the call and reached for his uniform hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

  "Carly, Alison Brown may be in the E.R. at Morel Hospital. Forget your wet hair and grab your clothes. We need to get down there."

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  With sirens blaring and lights flashing, Brody pressed the accelerator pedal to the floor as he raced past any vehicles on the state road going less than eighty. He'd prayed for the day they'd find Alison Brown, and that day had come. After a near miss at a stop light, Carly gently touched his arm.

  "Honey, slow down. We don't want an accident to prevent us from seeing Alison," she said, her voice gentle and soft.

  "I'm sorry." He slowed his vehicle and reached for Carly's hand. What was he thinking? He had Carly in the car. What would he do if anything happened to her? "Do me a favor and call Cameron on his cell. Tell him to meet us at the E.R."

  Fishing for her cell phone in her purse, Carly found it and punched in Cameron's number and left a message on his voice mail when he didn't pick up.

  Reaching the hospital, Brody parked and helped Carly out of the vehicle. Hand in hand, they raced across the parking lot, flying through the E.R. automatic doors. They asked the first nurse they saw about Alison.

  Overhearing them, a nurse rushed from the nurse's station to greet them.

  "I'm Natalie Jones. I'm the one who called," she said. "After we talked, they rushed Alison into the operating room. She has a deep, six-inch gash in her midsection and lost a lot of blood. They've got to sew up that gash and stop the bleeding, or we could lose her."

  "What are her chances?" asked Carly.

  "Not great. She's lost a lot of blood. I'll send the surgeon out to talk to you as soon as he's finished.

  "Okay," Carly replied. "Where should we wait?"

  "Let me show you where we have a small waiting area for parents. You can wait there," she said, as she led them down the hall to an area near the operating room.

  Brody was too anxious to sit, so he stationed himself at the end of the room, gazing out a long window. Carly joined him, lightly touching the middle of his back.

  "She'll make it, Brody. She has to."

  Drawing in a deep breath and squeezing Carly's shoulder, Brody said, "Do you realize that girl in the operating room may not even be Alison Brown? All we have is the word of a nurse who didn't even have Alison's photo in front of her when she called."

  "That means we get DNA and fingerprints as fast as we can," Carly replied.

  Cameron rushed into the room and joined them at the window. "Is it true? Is Alison Brown here?"

  "We think so," said Brody, "but we won't know for sure until we ca
n get DNA and fingerprints."

  "Where is she?"

  "In surgery. The nurse said she'd lost a lot of blood because she has a deep cut near her abdomen."

  "If she's that injured, how did she get to the hospital?" Cameron asked.

  A large man wearing a plaid flannel shirt with denim overalls waved his arm. He was sitting in a corner near a television by himself. "My name's Hal Locke. I found the girl early this morning sleeping with my German Shepherd, inside his doghouse."

  "Doghouse? How long had she been there?" asked Cameron.

  "Judging from the amount of blood on her, the doghouse and my dog, Lucky, I'd say all night. It's just a guess, but I'd say she was so weak by the time she reached my farm that she collapsed in the doghouse and Lucky took care of her until I found them."

  "How?" Carly asked.

  "It dipped below the forties last night, and my German Shepherd wrapped his body around hers to keep her warm; otherwise, she might have died from exposure," Hal said. "We still might lose her from blood loss. I'm sticking around to see if they need blood, and if mine matches."

  "Hal, why don't you help me get some coffee for everyone? I want to talk to you about exactly where your farm is, and the routes Alison Brown may have taken to reach it."

  Once Cameron and Hal left the room, Carly said, "You know what Cameron's thinking, right?"

  "That our killer lives in the vicinity of Hal's farm? Yes. I hope the hell he does," Brody slipped his cell phone out of his pocket. "I'm calling for a crime scene tech to get over here. We need to know if that girl is Alison Brown as soon as she gets out of surgery. After that I'm calling Bryan. He's got DNA samples from a hairbrush that Alison's mother gave him."

  "Oh my God. Alison's mother has to know," cried Carly.

  "We can't contact her until we know for sure the girl is Alison."

  A man in blue scrubs entered the waiting area, noticed Brody's badge, and strode over to them.

  "I'm Dr. Nathan Ford."

  "Thanks for seeking us out," said Brody. "How is Alison?"

  "We were able to clean out the wound, stop the bleeding, and stitch it up. She received a couple of blood transfusions in surgery, and will get more in recovery. Her feet were a mess, covered with small cuts and abrasions. She was wearing only socks when she was found." The doctor paused for a second and then said, "That's not all. Someone did a number on the back of her legs, arms, back, and buttocks. It looks like the kind of injury you would receive if you were struck by a whip multiple times. We went ahead and did a rape kit while she was under."

  "Is she going to make it?" asked Carly.

  Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "She's lost a lot of blood. Right now, I can't predict if she'll make it or not. Honestly, the odds are against anyone who's lost this much blood. We'll have to wait and see."

  "Can we see her?" Brody asked.

  "Only one or two people at a time and only for ten minutes or so," the doctor called over his shoulder as he walked out of the room. "I'll send the nurse for you."

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  In the recovery room, Brody and Carly sat in chairs on either side of the girl's bed. Carly had never seen a victim who looked so small and broken. Gently brushing a strand of the girl's hair out of her eyes, Carly scanned her body for injuries. It seemed that every inch of her young skin was bruised, cut, or scraped. On the back of each of her arms, long, angry abrasions were in various stages of healing. Deep purple bruising circled each wrist. They hadn't conducted DNA testing or fingerprinting, but Carly was convinced the girl in the bed was indeed Alison Brown.

  Sitting back down in her chair, a tear slipped from Carly's eyes and spilled down her cheek as she held Alison's hand. Across from her, Brody looked as if he were gritting his teeth together tightly, trying to keep his emotions in control.

  Natalie Jones came into the room and whispered to Brody, "Your brother says he needs to talk to you."

  "I'll be right there." Pausing to kiss Carly on the forehead, Brody headed for the waiting area to talk to Cameron.

  As soon as he arrived, Cameron asked, "Is it Alison?"

  "I think so."

  "A crime scene tech should be here any time to get her fingerprints and take a DNA sample," said Cameron. "If we get confirmation, I'll send a deputy for Alison's mother in Indianapolis."

  "Thanks, Cam."

  "There's another thing. I've sent deputies out to Hal's farm to determine how Alison got there. I also put a call into Lane and Frankie Hansen to see if one of them could bring their search-and-rescue dog, Hunter, to trace her route. We're close, Brody. We'll catch the bastard."

  "The killer will try to get to Alison. He'll fear she'll talk. I want a deputy outside her door twenty four hours a day, seven days a week to protect her."

  "Will do." Cameron paused, and then asked, "Can I see her?"

  "Sure. Go now while I make some calls. Carly's in there with her."

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  Cameron crept into Alison's room and sat in the chair Brody had vacated. Glancing at Carly, he realized she was holding the girl's hand. Finally in the same room with the preteen he'd searched for, he hadn't bargained for her to look so small and helpless in the hospital bed. There were monitors and machines surrounding Alison's bed, and bags of blood hung from metal rods, pumping the lifesaving liquid into her veins.

  His heart squeezed. Alison was the same age as Hailey Adams, but had experienced things he hoped Hailey never would.

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  Chapter Ten

  Twenty-four hours later, Brody and Carly were summoned to the office of Dr. Nathan Ford, the physician assigned to Alison Brown's care. As the doctor was attending to an emergency, they waited quietly in visitor chairs across from his desk.

  "I have a bad feeling about Dr. Ford wanting to see us," said Carly. "Something's happened with Alison, and I'm sensing it's not good."

  Brody, who was reading a message on his phone, turned to her. "I hope you're not right on this one, Carly. We need Alison to lead us to the killer." Turning back to the message, he said, "Just got a text from hospital security, which says the entire hospital staff has been alerted to look for anyone suspicious entering or exiting the hospital. In addition, they've stepped up security at the entrance and all exits. Cam assigned deputies to guard Alison's room, and the first shift started yesterday."

  "I can take a shift," offered Carly.

  "Thanks, it's kind of you to offer, but we have enough deputies to cover. Besides, you sat with the girl until one this morning."

  Before Carly could respond, Dr. Ford entered the room, greeted them, then sat behind his desk. He had a troubled expression which made Carly's pulse quicken.

  "I'm afraid that Alison has slipped into a coma," he stated somberly.

  "What does that mean?" Carly asked. She'd never known anyone who had been in a coma. The comatose stories she'd seen on the news rarely had a happy ending.

  Scrubbing his hands tiredly over his face, the doctor said, "A coma may develop as a result of the body's response to injury, to allow the body to heal the most immediate injuries before waking. She lost a lot of blood, and she's experienced the kind of trauma that occurs in most people's worst nightmares."

  Brody leaned forward. "Will she wake up?"

  "It can be very difficult to predict recovery when a person is in a coma. Every person is different. She could wake up in a day or two. Or worst-case scenario, she may never regain consciousness."

  "What can you do for her?" asked Carly.

  "Her condition is critical, and I'm moving her to the intensive care unit. Once her condition stabilizes, we'll do some imaging tests, such as a CAT scan, MRI, etc. to see if there is any abnormal brain functioning. We'll also hook her up to an EEG to continue to monitor brain waves and identify any seizures that might occur."

  "When will she be moved?" Brody wanted to know. "I want the armed deputy guarding her room to stay with her in case the killer tries to get to her."

  "We're moving her immediately, and
I've notified the hospital staff to alert your office if anyone should ask for her room number. Have you located her parents?" asked Dr. Ford.

  "We can't do that until we positively identify the girl as Alison Brown. We're waiting for the DNA and fingerprinting results. If the girl is identified as Alison Brown, we'll immediately notify her mother and a deputy will be sent to Indianapolis to bring her to this hospital. I am putting the girl in protective custody. We have reason to believe the man who did this to Alison is the serial killer we've been searching for."

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  In his office, Cameron typed an update to text to Brody, the most important being that the fingerprint analysis revealed the girl in Morel Hospital was identified as Alison Brown. Cameron had already contacted Alison's mother, Margaret, and sent a deputy to pick her up at her home and transport her to the hospital. He'd worked with the Victim Advocates group to find a safe place for Margaret to stay while her daughter was hospitalized. Once Alison was released, the sheriff's office would put both into protective custody.

  He'd assigned ten deputies the day before to search a twenty-mile radius from Hal Locke's farm to try to determine where the killer lived. They discovered two state highways and a half-dozen county roads within the search range, along with five farms, in addition to Hal's, and twenty houses in the Country Way community. Lane Hansen, along with his search-and-rescue dog, Hunter, arrived at the Locke farm in the afternoon to try to determine the route Alison took after she escaped. After familiarizing Hunter with Alison's scent, the two searched a wooded area nearby, but Hunter lost the girl's scent about midway. They hadn't made the progress Cameron had hoped for, and to say he was disappointed was an understatement.