by Alexa Grace
For the first time since he'd implemented his plan, he became alarmed and anxious. Things were not going according to plan, and maybe his sister was right when she said things were unraveling.
His only option was to kill the girl. She was the only one who could lead the police to his door. Awake now, she must be talking to the police. Maybe she couldn't figure out where he lived. Otherwise, his place would have been crawling with cops by now. That must be it. He'd come back later with a silencer on his gun and shoot the deputy, then Alison, and anyone else who tried to interfere with the Master's plan.
<><><>
In his office, Gabe frantically tried to find Anthony's call name. He'd discovered twenty-one call names that included the name "Anthony" that were being used on the Teen Chat site. It was tedious work, but he had to go through each profile and photo in order to target the Anthony who was communicating with Alison Brown. He'd gone through eighteen profiles and profile photos when he came to @Anthony16. What Gabe saw on this profile made him shake his head in disbelief, and push back in his chair. He was shocked and angry. What the hell?
He copied and pasted @Anthony16's profile image into an email and then called Brody. As soon as his brother answered, in a rush of words, he said, "Brody, do you have your computer on? Go to your email. I just sent you an image."
"Now's not a good time, Gabe. I'm meeting with Carly and Cameron."
"Move your computer screen so that they can both see what I sent. Turn your phone on speaker so Carly and Cam can hear me. Open the email, Brody."
Hearing the urgency in Gabe's voice, Brody pulled up the email and opened it.
"Tell me what you see," Gabe demanded.
"What the hell is going on, Gabe? This is the picture I took of you in your football jersey when you were sixteen. Why are you sending it to me now?"
"That's the photo that Anthony is using on his Teen Chat profile. He used it when he started romancing Alison Brown online. Our killer is using my fucking photo, Brody!"
"Oh, my God," said Carly. "The killer knows Gabe."
Cameron remarked, "Well, if he knows Gabe, he probably knows all three of us."
"Exactly," said Carly. "Keep in mind, our killer likes to hang around cops. It is not farfetched to think he may be a law enforcement officer for Shawnee County. That would be the perfect job for him. He would know firsthand how close the police were in identifying him as the killer."
"No way," insisted Brody.
"Why would this guy use Gabe's photo? Cameron asked.
"For some reason, he dislikes Gabe. Why else would he use Gabe's photo on his fake online profile? He's thinking if law enforcement should discover his online profile, he can divert their attention to Gabe instead of himself."
"Who would have access to Gabe's photograph?"
Gabe answered, "Since my high school yearbook is online, your guess is as good as mine. But I can tell you this. I won't stop searching for this bastard's identity until I find it."
<><><>
When Cameron went to his office to look at property records, Carly said to Brody, "There were only four officers certified to go into Ron Tyler's house during the meth bust, Cameron, Blake, Deputy Ryder and you. You and Blake didn't enter the home because you were dealing with Ron Tyler, who had crashed through the back sliding glass doors, and the meth head with the gun. Cameron came out back as soon as he heard the gun go off. That leaves Deputy Ryder alone in the house for at least fifteen minutes, before the hazmat team went inside. That is more than enough time to upload those photographs onto Ron's computer."
Covering his face with his hands for a moment, Brody said, "That the serial killer we've been looking for is one of my officers is just unthinkable. One of my deputies uploading porn onto a suspect's computer and killing all those girls is quite a stretch."
"He fits my profile, Brody. Think about it," Carly began. "He's a white male in his thirties who is physically fit. Ryder would have no problem carrying his dead victims to the shallow graves he'd dug. If you check his work hours, I bet you'll find Ryder works a five-day-week and his day off is consistently on Saturday. He lives and works in Shawnee County, which is why he lures the girls here. Hanging around crime scenes is something he likes. Since he's an officer, Ryder can hang around crime scenes all he wants and no one would be the wiser. It's no coincidence he was the one alone with Ron Tyler's laptop. He uploaded those pornographic photos."
Deputy Sawyer knocked on Brody's door, and then peeked in. "Sheriff, the coroner is trying to reach you. He says it's important."
"Thanks, Deputy," said Brody.
Putting a call in to Bryan, Brody asked, "What's so important?"
"Do you remember that piece of duct tape we pulled off one of the victims we found in the car fire?" Bryan asked.
"Yeah. I recall you said it was a long shot that CSI could get a fingerprint from it."
"Well, it took a while, but Cheryl Davis got a print!" Bryan exclaimed. "The fingerprint belongs to a woman by the name of Erin Ryder. We had her prints on file because she applied to work in the county school system."
Brody disconnected the call and said to Carly. "We have a fingerprint on duct tape found on one of the victims. It belongs to Jim Ryder's sister, Erin."
<><><>
Cameron had just printed a map from the property records of Hal Locke's farm, adjacent woods, and a property that appeared to match Alison Brown's description. Curiously enough, the property belonged to Jim Ryder, the deputy he'd just terminated hours before.
In a rush to get to Brody's office, he'd snatched the map from his printer, just as Deputy Sawyer entered his office. "Is your phone on vibrate again?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm transferring a call to you in a second. It's Deputy Walker at the hospital and he says it's important."
Cameron answered the second the phone rang. "Detective Chase."
"Sir, this is Deputy Walker, I'm at the hospital, assigned to cover Alison Brown's room."
"Hello, Deputy. Is everything all right?"
"It is now, sir. We just had a guy try to get into Alison Brown's room. I think he called the ICU nurse's station, pretended he was the sheriff calling with a family emergency for me. When I arrived at the nurse's station to take the call, the phone was dead. I turned around in time to see him entering Alison's room. When I yelled at him, he ran down the hall and I lost him in the stairwell."
"Is Alison okay? Did he hurt her in any way?" Cameron wanted to know.
"No, sir. She's in her room, talking with her mother right now."
"Don't leave your post again for any reason, Deputy," Cameron warned. "I'll talk to you later."
"Don't hang up, sir," the deputy pleaded. "There's more."
"What?" asked Cameron, his tone reflecting his annoyance.
"The man was wearing a Shawnee County deputy uniform."
"Can you identify him?"
"No, sir. He had his back to me when he ran down the hall. I didn't get a clear visual of his face."
Cameron disconnected the call, and pounded his fist on his desk in frustration. An intruder at the hospital trying to get into Alison's room was wearing a Shawnee County deputy uniform and the property in question belonged to one of his deputies. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure this one out. Cameron was more certain than ever that their killer was Deputy Jim Ryder.
Deciding it was time to move Alison to the safe house, Cameron picked up the phone, and called Deputy Walker back at the hospital. The girl was no longer safe there, especially since Ryder was furious about being fired. His behavior could escalate. After he talked to Walker, he emailed a photo of Ryder to hospital security. Cameron needed to talk to his brother, then get Alison out of that hospital.
Cameron raced down the hall and into Brody's office and said, "Our killer is Jim Ryder."
"Sit down, Cam. We've got to calmly discuss what evidence we have that Ryder is our guy. Why do you think it's Ryder?"
"A man wearing
a Shawnee County deputy's uniform just tried to get into Alison Brown's room at the hospital. I pulled the property records and the house from which Alison escaped belongs to Jim Ryder. Is this a coincidence, or could Ryder be our killer?"
"Cameron, there is more information that implicates Ryder," said Carly. "At Ron Tyler's house, you came out back as soon as you heard the gun go off. That leaves Deputy Ryder alone in the house for at least fifteen minutes before the hazmat team went inside. That's more than enough time for him to upload those kiddie porn photographs onto Ron's computer."
Brody added, "Besides that, Bryan just called me. One of our techs was able to lift a fingerprint from a piece of duct tape taken from one of our victims the day we discovered the burning car. The fingerprint belongs to a woman by the name of Erin Ryder."
"That's Jim Ryder's sister!" exclaimed Cameron.
"I'm not sure we have enough to arrest the bastard, but we damn well have enough to bring him in for questioning," said Brody. "Cameron, hand me that map. Then get a search warrant for Ryder's property to Judge Carlson's office. Get a BOLO out on him. Carly and I are going to see if he's at his house."
Cameron stopped at Deputy Sawyer's desk before going to his office. "Would you please type up a search warrant?" Ripping out a piece of paper from his notebook, he handed it to her. "Here is the property address as well as a list of what we're searching for."
"But, this is Deputy Ryder's address."
"I'm aware of that. Keep this confidential until I can get a BOLO out to the deputies for him."
"No problem," she said as she looked for the search warrant template on her computer.
"Once you get it typed, get it over to Judge Carlson for her signature. Then once she signs, call me. We need to move fast on this."
<><><>
Alison lay awake in her hospital bed, watching her mother, who was standing at the window looking out. Her mom was quietly weeping, her arms crossed and her shoulders trembling. It was Alison's fault her mother was so upset and experiencing this trauma. It was her fault one hundred percent.
She'd seen her mother's face moments before, when Deputy Walker raced in the room to see if they were all right. Instinctively, they both knew exactly what had happened. The Master had made his first attempt to kill Alison. Her mom's face turned dead white, and the sheer terror in her eyes was unmistakable. But soon she masked her emotions and sat on the bed to comfort Alison, when it was she who should be comforting her mother. Alison had experienced a living nightmare, but she understood that her mom's experience had not been much better. Her only daughter had disappeared. She must have felt helpless and frightened as she had to rely on others to find Alison. There must have been moments when she thought she'd never see her daughter again, just as Alison had felt she may never see her mother.
Running away was one of the most important decisions of her young life, and the choice Alison had made was the worst possible. She'd failed miserably. It had turned their lives upside down and she didn't know if they'd ever recover.
What flaw in her character made her run into the arms of a predator? Was it cowardice? Did she fear her stepfather and the wrath of her bullies so much that she ran, instead of facing her problems head-on? Was she becoming the kind of person who ran from her challenges?
Her mother was the most important person in her world. Why didn't she trust her mom enough to share what was going on in her life?
Wiping her face, Margaret turned from the window. "Are you awake? I thought you were getting some rest, Alison?"
"I want to talk," said Alison. "There are things I need to say to you."
Sitting in the chair next to the bed, Margaret asked, "What things?"
"It's my fault all this is happening. I'm sorry, Mom, and I wish I could make it up to you."
"Don't let me off the hook. I share a healthy portion of any blame that's being assigned for this mess. If I hadn't brought Raymond Brown into our lives, or been more aware of what was going on with my daughter, all this might have been prevented. So if there's blame being passed around, I claim a big chunk of it."
Alison pulled her mother's hand into her own and held it tightly. "There is something I have to tell you about my stepfather."
"I already know that you used to push your dresser in front of your bedroom door to keep him out in the evenings when I was working. The police told me he'd served time in prison before I met him for sexual misconduct with a twelve-year-old girl. I had no clue. I married a monster who molests little girls, and moved him in with my thirteen-year-old daughter. Not only did I do that, I worked nights, giving him every opportunity to get to you. But why didn't you tell me, Alison? Why didn't you trust me enough to tell me what he was doing?"
"He said he would hurt us both. I was so afraid of what he might do..."
Margaret cut in. "There's no need for you to be afraid of him ever again, Alison. Raymond is no longer living with us. I've filed for divorce. I plan to do everything in my power to see that he's punished for what he did to you."
"So when we move back to Indianapolis..."
"If we move back there," said Margaret, squeezing her daughter's hand. "We're going to start over, make a brand-new life, and it doesn't necessarily have to be in Indianapolis. I put the house up for sale. We can live anywhere we want. I can find a position as a nurse anywhere."
"Really?" Alison asked.
"Yes, Alison, we can decide together where we go. You were unhappy living in Indianapolis. I wish you'd told me," Margaret began. "Edward Webb is the name of the older man who lives next to the empty lot where those girls beat you. He visited me and told me everything. I'm so grateful that Mr. Webb stopped them from hurting you any more than they did. Why didn't you tell me about them?"
"There was never the right time, Mom. Besides, if you had gotten involved, they might have been even more cruel."
"I need for you to make some promises to me, Alison. Promises that you cannot break, no matter what."
"What are they?"
"Promise me you will never run away again."
"I promise."
"Now promise me that you will confide in me like you used to. I want to know everything that's going on in your life. I'm your mom. There is no one in this world who cares more about you than I do."
Alison nodded and said, "I promise."
"Trust me to do my job, Alison. It's up to me, as your mother, to protect you no matter what the cost. I'm stronger than you seem to think. Trust me to keep you safe."
"Yes, Mom."
"Sweetheart, you don't have to look online or anywhere else for someone to love you or listen to you. That person is sitting beside you right now." Throwing her arms around her daughter, Margaret squeezed Alison tightly. "I would do anything for you. Anything. I'd lay down my life for you in a second. I love you more than life itself. Don't you ever forget that."
<><><>
At the hospital, Cameron reached the third floor intensive care unit and rushed into Alison's room, and saw that Deputy Walker and the nurses had the girl and her mother packed and ready to go.
"You look familiar. Have we met?" Alison asked Cameron.
"We have, but I'm surprised you remember. You were in a coma when I visited. I'm Cameron Chase. I'm a detective with the county sheriff's office."
"Why did you come to see me?"
"We'd been searching for you for a long time. I guess I needed to see for myself that you were really okay. I wanted to see in person the brave girl who escaped from the man who hurt her."
"He was here at the hospital, wasn't he?" Alison asked. Fear, stark and vivid, glittered in her eyes.
Cameron glanced at Margaret who nodded her head as if to tell him it was okay to tell her daughter the truth.
"He was in the hospital earlier and outside your room, but Deputy Walker stopped him." said Cameron. "We're moving you to a safe house where he can't find you. I have deputies scheduled to watch the house every minute of the day. You'll like it there, Alison. You'll
love Jenny Lynn, who runs the place. She can't wait to meet you. She has a room for you and your mom."
Deputy Walker and a nurse entered the room to tell Cameron the ambulance that would transport Alison to the safe house was ready.
<><><>
In the car, Brody turned to Carly, "When we get to Ryder's place, you stay in the car."
"No way," said Carly defiantly. "Not going to happen."
"Damn it, Carly. Do you have to be so damn stubborn?"
"Stubborn has nothing to do with it. That meth bust made me realize two things. When I saw that drug addict with his gun pointed at your chest, I realized how much I love you and that I didn't want to think about my life without you in it," said Carly.
"Baby..."
"Let me finish. The second thing I realized is that if we are going to make a go at a relationship, we have got to cope with the other person facing danger at work. I love being in law enforcement as much as you do, Brody. Danger comes with the territory. You've got to stop being so overprotective of me, and I have to stop worrying about what might happen to you."
Silently, Brody focused on the road. They were out of the downtown area, and he'd turned onto the county road that led to Ryder's place about twenty miles away.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" Carly asked.
Pulling off the road, Brody dragged her across the console onto his lap and into his arms, and kissed her soundly. "I've lost both my parents, Carly, so I'm well acquainted with loss. I don't know if I can stop being overprotective toward you. I love you so much, I don't know if I can deal with losing you, too."
Kissing him, she said, "This is so not the appropriate time, but if we keep talking like this, and kissing like this, I'm going to jump your bones right here in broad daylight in your clearly marked sheriff's office SUV."
"Sex maniac," Brody said, his face breaking into a grin, as he helped her into the passenger seat. "Let's go get our killer."