He began to speak. A few verses of Scripture she remembered, a few other things. She moved a step closer, wanting to catch every word. When he stopped talking, she nodded . . . and he was gone.
* * * * *
“You did what?”
Eldon Dayle swiveled in his chair to stare at the Goth. “Are you insane? You’ve jeopardized this entire operation. You stupid, stupid woman!”
She bit her lip, afraid to speak. Dayle’s wrath had never been directed at her before. When he stood up from his chair, she stepped back until her leather jacket was pressing against the wall. He was literally trembling with rage.
“I never told you to take the little brother! That was never part of the plan. I only showed his picture to the girl that day to frighten her. Bringing him here would only make our job harder. It would bring out her protective instincts. We’d never break her! And what if you had succeeded? Your cover would have been completely destroyed.”
She choked a bit and began to stammer. “I’m sorry, sir. I wanted to make sure they hadn’t given up hope, that they were still thinking of the ransom. I told her about ‘finding’ the baseball cap, to give her hope. And it just seemed that, with Burgess out of town, I had an opportunity to. . . .“
“To the Pit with Burgess! Do you take your orders from him, or me? And it was never about the money!” He strode across the room and backhanded her, knocking her to the floor.
“Look at you,” he snarled, towering over her. “Padded clothes and lifts in those hideous boots, to make you look so big and menacing. Motorcycle gloves, so nobody will see your delicate little fingers. You couldn’t even break that boy’s nose without brass knuckles. You’re nothing! You should never have overlooked that cap when you took her in the first place. I had to send you back for it. You think you passed that polygraph test because you were so clever? You idiot, it was because we controlled your body, and its reactions. You’re not a brilliant FBI agent, you’re not some sort of evil Amazon, you’re useless. You’re about as ferocious as Little Bo Peep!” He pulled back his foot, to kick her in the face, when he heard the voice.
“You are not Eldon Dayle.”
He whirled around in horror, his eyes black. “You!” he snarled. Maclean managed to rise to her feet, her mouth agape.
Gabriel Terrena simply stood and looked at them. “You have Eldon Dayle and Shannon Maclean,” he said. “Know this, as the Lord liveth: you will not have Cassandra Hixson. You do not have Brandon Fox. All that the Father has given the Son are his, and no man shall pluck them from his hand.”
Dayle tried to move, tried to launch himself at Terrena, but his body wouldn’t respond. “You . . . you know nothing,” he snarled. “The Father doesn’t have Brandon Fox, either. Brandon Fox doesn’t follow that Way. He belongs to another!”
“You know nothing, for all your guile,” Terrena replied. “His time of choosing has not yet come. When it comes, not all the principalities and powers can keep him from the salvation that awaits.”
“And you, Gabriel Terrena?” Dayle sneered. “Are you here to rescue these children, these dumb beasts begotten of flesh and blood?”
“I am a messenger. It is not my place to save or to rescue, but to speak the truth. When it pleases the Father to rescue them, your eyes, those eyes you have taken, will behold the salvation of the Lord.”
Dayle’s entire manner changed. “We need not be enemies, Gabriel Terrena. We are creatures of eternal power and beauty. Together, we could — “
Terrena interrupted him. “’Yet Michael the archangel, when contending with the Devil, did not bring railing accusations, but said, The Lord rebuke thee!’”
Terrena was gone.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: A Plan and a Confession
Burgess sat at his desk in the Yorkville office and studied the notes he had made during his trip to Texas. He’d have to re-write them, in standard FBI jargon, for his official report, but for the moment, he could only shake his head and sigh in exasperation. His gut told him that he was onto something. But what? And what was the next step?
He grimaced as he tasted his coffee. Cold as Christmas. I’ve been sitting here longer than I thought. The yellow legal pad was filling up with his handwritten scribbles.
Item. Eldon Dayle was an intellectual wonder child, but had very few friends. A loner. Ultra-high achiever, but only in the scholastic area. Former teachers described him as serious and focused, but not anti-social or surly. No political activities, no social interests. Attended mainstream church intermittently with parents, until high school, then stopped. Narcissist??? Hard to say, at that stage. Parents loved and supported him, but probably never understood him. No unusual childhood trauma.
Item. Not a ladies’ man. When he finally fell for Marcia, he fell hard, and stayed with her until her death. Former associates describe them as a very happy couple. Popular with peers and students.
Item. Doted on daughter, Katherine Anne. Could be important! As a lifelong loner, his new family was his first real taste of belonging, love, and a sense of “normalcy” for his own sake. Marcia and Katherine Anne didn’t see him as a genius, but as the man they adored. Daughter was the only person in his life who ever depended on him completely and unconditionally. Dayle and Marcia exposed her to church, had her baptized and confirmed, allowed her to “make up her own mind.” Judging from comments of her teachers, church leaders, and friends, she had no strong religious feelings, pro or con, at the time of her death. Compare/contrast with Cassandra Hixson? Katherine was busy with school and extracurricular activities, just enjoying life and avoiding philosophizing. Dayle often commented to friends that she was “perfect in every way,” and he did not attempt to duplicate his own intellectual accomplishments in her. One former neighbor commented, “He always challenged the girl, but didn’t make demands of her.” Marcia kept him from spoiling her.
Item. After the death of wife and daughter, Dayle’s behavior changed dramatically. Became withdrawn and bitter. At dinners with colleagues, even at formal occasions, he was no longer clever and witty, but sullen and quiet. Exception: if the conversation ever turned to religion, Dayle became enraged and rude, and usually left the premises. Eventually, he quit receiving invitations to such events. Began lavish spending on luxury items, but no gambling or illegal substances. Could be important! Student evaluations of his class performance, which had been consistently high, dropped drastically. Students wrote in anonymous reviews that he became “an anti-religious fanatic,” that “he’d interrupt his lectures and rant and rave about religion,” and that he subjected students of known religious belief to ridicule, insults, and bullying. One student wrote, “I’m an agnostic, but Dayle’s obsessed. He just can’t shut up on the subject.” Enrollment in his previously popular courses dropped. Quoted by an associate as saying that “No student who believes in religion should be admitted to college.” Dayle became unpopular with colleagues and students alike. Although he had tenure, several colleagues suggested that this was the reason he took early retirement.
Item. After retirement, Dayle sold home in College Station and moved to Roanoke, Virginia, buying a large five bedroom house in isolated area for $1,240,000. No known family in Virginia. This remains his residence of record, although he is said to travel widely. It is not known whether he maintains other residences under a different name.
Item. All attempts to reach Dayle in Roanoke have been unsuccessful.
Possible connection to Hixson case: Suggestive, but circumstantial. Dayle was a scholastic prodigy; Cassandra Hixson is in top fifth percentile of American students. Dayle is fanatically anti-religious; Hixson family is deeply religious. Dayle’s daughter died at age fifteen; Cassandra Hixson is seventeen. Roanoke is 438 miles (704 km) from Yorkville, easy driving or flying distance. Further investigation warranted. Dayle should be considered Person of Interest, but not yet suspect.
FWD to Behavioral Research and Instruction Unit.
Burgess sat back, sighed, and finished his coffee. Where
does it all come together? And where is Eldon Dayle?
* * * * *
“Yeah, let’s get down to it,” Celeste said. “Let’s plan.” She looked at Roy. “You got a pencil and paper around here anyplace?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Olivia said. She had already pulled out her phone and opened the notepad app. “I’ve got it. So, what do we know so far? Assuming that Cassie’s being held at that old hangar, I mean.”
“It used to belong to Tri-State Airways,” Royal began. “But since they left, it’s just called Hangar Thirteen. I don’t know why they didn’t just paint over the Tri-State name. I guess they figured nobody would be seein’ it.”
“‘Hangar Thirteen,’” Olivia repeated, her thumbs flying. “Okay, Roy, tell me this. Is there any way you could get hold of the layout or blueprint of the place? I mean, would your dad know where those things are? Could we get to them?”
Roy shook his head. “No, Pops works in Vehicle Maintenance. All that stuff would be handled by Airfield Management. It’s a whole different office.”
Olivia clucked her tongue. “Too bad. That would really be a help.” She fidgeted with one of the rings on her fingers. “Well, I know you don’t spend much time out there, like Celeste does, but is there anything about the hangar you can tell me, just from seeing it? You’ve seen it, right?”
“Uh-huh, I know the place,” Roy replied. “But it’s nothing special. See, every airline has its own hangars. I think Tri-State used to have two or three. But that’s the only one left. Now, that cargo hangar? That company only had one plane. And that big old maintenance hangar is still there. But that’s not where Celeste saw the lights.”
The group considered this in silence. Then Ethan piped up. “Hey wait, Roy. Why did Tri-State have two or three hangars to begin with?”
“What difference does that make?” Olivia asked, a bit impatiently. ”There’s only one left.”
Ethan stared at her and laughed. “You mean you don’t know, of all people? With Fifi and the stealth bomber in your room?”
“Huh? Who’s Fifi? What’s in her room? What are y’all talking about?” Celeste stared at him.
“Tell ‘em, Roy,” Ethan grinned, still thinking of the hangars.
“Well,” the other boy replied, as if it were common knowledge, “They had one hangar for each plane. That’s the way commercial airlines do it. A hangar would have to be humongous to hold two airliners. Even private planes have their own hangars, smaller ones of course. I guess that Tri-State never had more than two or three planes on the ground here at one time. In hangars, I mean. The planes that just land and take off again don’t need to go to the hangars.”
“Yes!” Ethan cried. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” He sat on the edge of his chair, nodding his head.
“We are?” Celeste asked. “Where? Who’s Fifi?”
“Okay, Roy,” Ethan continued. “Your dad would know this part. You might even know it. I mean, you might have heard about it. What sort of planes was Tri-State using toward the end? Before they went out of business?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Roy replied. “Some old DC-3 prop planes, from way back in the day, and later some DC-9 jets. The jets were just single-engine planes. They weren’t flying the old prop planes since I’ve been alive. Maybe not even since Pops has been alive.”
“Ethan?” Olivia interjected. “What does this have to do with anything?”
He turned to face her. “Look, we don’t have floor plans and blueprints for this hangar. But if we know what kind of plane parked there, we can figure out how big it is inside. We can get the specs for the plane off the Net. Then we get some basic diagrams for airline hangars, and see where the offices are. They probably won’t be keeping Cassie down on the floor where they kept the planes. I mean, they’d probably be using the offices and stuff. Right?” He looked at Roy for confirmation.
“Makes sense, sure. That would be easier.”
“How do you know they’re not holding her inside an old airplane?” Celeste asked. “And who’s Fifi?”
“No, no,” Roy said. “There won’t be a plane in there. When those airlines go out of business, they sell their old planes to Peru or someplace. All that’s left on the main floor is junk and old parts and dead animals that have gotten in.” He thought for a moment, then smiled at Ethan. “Hey! Celeste saw the door that person came out of. That might lead right to a staircase or something, up to the offices. All the offices are on the . . . what’s that word . . . the mezzanine. It’s like a balcony, sort of. They look out over the main floor.”
“Don’t they have offices on the main floor, too?” asked Olivia.
“Not much room for ‘em,” Roy replied. “Maybe supply rooms for the mechanics, but not much else.”
Olivia’s thumbs were tapping the keypad again. “Okay, I see what you guys are saying. So Ethan can go online and get these specs he wants. What else do we know?”
Roy spoke up. “Well, those lights Celeste saw, upstairs and at the side door? That building shouldn’t have any electrical power at all. Those red lights over the hangars are on a whole different circuit. So, either they’ve tapped into an external power source, or they’ve got a big generator in there. If we could cut the power. . . .”
“That’s good,” Olivia commented.
Celeste tried to quit thinking about Fifi and concentrate. “Well, we’ve all seen the video they made. Cassie looked good, right? Her clothes were clean and her hair looked nice. She didn’t look like she’d been lying around an old floor with dead animals.”
“Right,” Olivia said, excitement creeping into her voice. “And her mom told me that in the second message they received, there was a new picture of her, and she still looked good. Even had different clothes.”
“And she’s eating well, too,” Celeste added. “Oh . . . I’m not supposed to mention that. Whoops. Too late now. . . . In that first video? Well, they blocked the sound on the TV news. But I was at the Hixsons’ when they saw it, when Lieutenant Peacock and the FBI first came. And from what Cassie said, we figured — I figured, actually, and the agents agreed — that she was probably eating carry-out food. So we know she’s not just eating bread and water and lying in a broom closet or something.”
“Didn’t Peacock agree?” Ethan was puzzled.
“He’d already left,” Celeste replied with a sniff. “The feds treated him like a fool, and didn’t want him around. They didn’t exactly say it in those words, but it was obvious. No respect at all. The lieutenant showed some class, and just left like he didn’t have a care in the world — except Cassie.”
“Sounds about right,” Olivia commented. “Anyway, it sounds like the bad guys aren’t mistreating her. They’re asking for a whole lot of money, so they’re probably treating her pretty well. Now, what else do we know?”
Silence hung over the room for several minutes as each member of the group tried to think of something. Finally Celeste spoke. “I don’t think we know anything else. But here’s what we don’t know. We don’t know how many kidnappers there are. When I was at the Hixsons’ that night, Burgess said it was probably more than one. Well, I’m no expert, but I’ve been thinking. As far as we know, they’ve just grabbed Cassie. One seventeen year old girl. Burgess also said he didn’t think it was a political thing, which makes sense. If they’d kidnapped somebody like a big celebrity, or a senator’s child, it might be a really organized group. But Mayor Walker isn’t a senator yet, and if he were, they’d be asking for a whole lot more money. In Cassie’s case? I’m guessing no more than two or three people. But we don’t know.”
“That makes sense,” Roy remarked. “And there’s somethin’ else. I’ve heard about big dope dealers and such, and the way they run things. The more folks you have in one of these deals, the more chances somebody’ll sell you out or run off.”
“The fewer people involved, the less risk,” Olivia agreed. “You want to keep a conspiracy small. So let’s say that there are two or three, bu
t understand that there might be half a dozen. Or more. If that’s the case, we don’t have a very good chance.”
“Yeah, but if we don’t do something, Cassie might not have any chance,” Celeste said.
“We don’t know what kind of weapons they have,” Ethan added. “We should figure they’ve got guns.”
“Guns or no guns, there’s something else we know,” Olivia said, frowning. “Maybe we don’t know for sure, but we all agree. We can’t trust Maclean. If it were just Burgess, it might be okay, but it’s not. They’re a team. If we take our information to Burgess, she’ll get it, too. Let’s say she’s not evil or crooked, but just stupid or inexperienced. She could ruin everything.”
“That’s for sure,” Celeste added. “But the biggest thing is this. We don’t know if Cassie’s there at all. I kinda started all this, by telling you what I saw that night, so I should be the one to say it: this could just be our imaginations.”
THE ABDUCTION OF CASSANDRA Page 21