Stolen Daughters

by Carolyn Arnold

  “We found him.” She’d imagined saying the words would bring more relief, some excitement, but she felt tapped out, drained dry.

  “You…?”

  “The suspect’s name is Daniel Ross, and he lives in a quiet Dumfries neighborhood.” She filled him in on all they knew. “Trent’s calling in SWAT. We’re going to do this all above board. I want him to rot in prison for what he’s done.” She heard the vindictiveness in her voice, and maybe she was being rash judging the man so harshly, but all she could think about were those girls and Logan.

  “He will if I have a say.”

  “Trent’s also sending officers to his place of work.”

  Malone rubbed the top of his head and let out a long sigh. “You okay?”

  “Don’t even know how to answer that.” She couldn’t pin down exactly how she was feeling—couldn’t limit it to one thing anyway. She was numb, in shock, scared for Logan, for herself, and sad, to name a few.

  “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now… with Logan being held by this man.” He didn’t say it, but Amanda imagined the words and at his mercy being added to the end of that sentence. He proceeded with an even softer tone. “You might think that you have everyone fooled, Amanda. Fooled into thinking that you have it all together. But I know you better than that.” He paused there like he expected her to interject with something, but she was too distracted to concentrate on compiling words. “And I hope you know by now that you don’t ever have to go it alone. You do know that?”

  All she could do was bob her head, trying not to cry.

  Fifty-Six

  It took time for SWAT to do their thing. They had to plan and strategize approach. Search, breach, and arrest warrants needed to be obtained. If they decided to hit later at night, that would involve another type of warrant. Amanda hated the waiting and not knowing if Logan was still okay.

  An officer had called from Star Properties, and Daniel Ross had called in sick. He is that… Other unis were placed at a discreet distance from Ross’s house to keep an eye on things there.

  Eventually it came back that SWAT would be striking at eight o’clock that night, but that left hours to kill. She pressed on, trying to silence her thoughts and stay focused. She and Trent would use the time to dig more into the Ross family. Her phone rang at around four thirty, and it was Patty.

  “Glad I got you. Randy Hart’s bad news, Amanda.”

  “Yeah, we discovered that. He was investigated seven years ago for involvement in sex trafficking.”

  “That’s right. How did you find that out?”

  Amanda brought her up to speed, including mentioning that they had a murder suspect now. She left out Logan’s abduction.

  “You have your killer.”

  “Should.” She hated the need to stay grounded, but she wasn’t getting burnt by raised hopes. “How did you find out about Hart’s past?” The background Amanda had pulled on him had showed nada.

  “One of the old dogs in the unit saw his picture on my computer when he was walking by my desk. He’s the one who interrogated Hart when the allegations were originally made. He said he couldn’t get anything to stick, but he had this strong suspicion he was guilty as hell.”

  “Apparently he’s got good instinct. This might be a long shot, but I don’t suppose there’s any way you can find out where the tip originated from?”

  “A woman, the way the old dog tells it.”

  A woman… Tingles ran down Amanda’s arms. Could it have been one of his victims? “The old dog have a name?”

  “Detective David Melbourne. He’s one of the good ones.”

  “Can you look into tracking the call?”

  “That will be a dead end after all these years.”

  “Was afraid you’d say that. I have a favor to ask, and it might be a leap, but maybe Christina Ross is on the data chip we recovered from the bracelet a couple of months ago. Could you take a look and see if you can find her? I know she won’t be listed by name but…”

  “I’ll see what I can find.”

  “Thanks.” She ended the call, and Trent looked at her over the divider.

  “I have the details on the parents’ deaths. The father died of liver failure, and the mother, Lori Ross, died of an overdose of ketamine and fluoxetine. Apparently, she was prescribed both to help her deal with medical depression.”

  “Both deaths could have been aided along. We just assumed Ashley Lynch was his first victim.” Her gaze drifted down to the plastic evidence bag on her desk that contained Logan’s photo. She ran her fingertips over his face, wishing she could touch him in person, that he wasn’t holed up with some lunatic.

  “Maybe we were wrong to do so.”

  “I don’t know, but I think we could have found out how Daniel got his hands on the ketamine. It’s not a stretch that his mother left some behind.” She looked again at Logan’s face, peered closer into his eyes. They were riddled with fear. Failing to save him wasn’t an option. He was counting on her.

  She must have stayed lost in her thoughts for awhile. The next thing she knew it was time to hit Ross’s residence.

  * * *

  Everyone was in position who needed to be. Ross’s townhouse was in a low-key area of Dumfries. SWAT would move in, clear, and secure the location. Also, hopefully, free Logan. Amanda and Trent were hanging close by to make the arrest. At least that was the plan.

  At 8:15 PM, the SWAT team leader approached Amanda, Trent, and Malone.

  She stepped forward. “Did you find Logan?”

  The SWAT guy shook his head. “No sign of him or Ross, but we’ll be executing the rights of the search warrant. We’ll keep you posted on what we find.”

  “No sign of—” She clamped her mouth shut and swallowed hard. Maybe they were too late to save Logan? Maybe they shouldn’t have waited on SWAT and just moved in themselves…

  “Could we take a look inside?” Trent asked.

  “Sure. That’s fine.”

  She followed Trent into the house and noted immediately how tidy and organized it was—everything had its place.

  She went over to the coffeemaker, gloved up, and opened the filter section. It was empty. She checked the garbage bin, also empty. Was he living or staying somewhere else?

  She looked over for Trent but couldn’t see him. “Trent?” She walked down a hallway.

  “In here,” he called out.

  She joined him in a bedroom. “I don’t think Ross has been here in the last day or two.”

  “Longer than that.” He pointed toward the dresser where an alarm clock was flashing. “The power went out last Wednesday.”

  “He might have just left it to blink?”

  Trent shook his head. “No. His crimes tell us he’s organized.”

  “Suppose that’s true and, if anything, this would drive him mad.” She tried to keep calm, but it was impossible. “Where are they, Trent? Are we sure this is the only property registered to Ross?”

  “All that I found.”

  “We look again. He has to be holding Logan somewhere else.” She could hear the pleading in her voice, but he had to still be alive. She pulled the bagged photo of Logan she’d brought with her and took in the wood boards behind him. “Look,” she said, pointing it out to Trent. “It looks rustic.” With the word, it seemed like everything started to tumble into place. She paced and spoke. “The Ross family was from Haymarket. It’s more rural there. They could have lived in a farmhouse or log cabin.”

  “Okay, but there were no other properties under Daniel’s name, and his family is all dead.”

  “All dead,” she repeated and headed straight for their department car with Trent tagging along. “You said the mother just died around Christmas, right?”

  “Ah, yeah. So?”

  “So… maybe the property’s held up in probate. Daniel could still have access to it.”

  They got into the vehicle, and Trent did a search for properties under the name of Lori Ross. “She
had a place out on Logmill Road.”

  That was about as rural as a place got around here, and it was in Haymarket. “Let’s go.” She pointed to the ignition button.

  “What? No, we can’t go. We need to inform Malone, get SWAT together again.”

  She took a few deep breaths. Daniel’s warning had been clear: stop coming for him or Logan was dead. What if he knew they’d just stormed his house? “I’m serious, Trent. You either start driving or get out of the car. We can’t wait for SWAT again. Logan might not have that amount of time.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, and his cheeks flushed. She was about to state her case again, when he turned on the car and pulled away from the curb.

  “Screw it,” he said. “A man’s life is at stake, right? We can’t wait.”

  Fifty-Seven

  “This it?” Amanda looked out the passenger window as Trent slowed the department car to a crawl, then a stop, in front of a driveway.

  A gate sat open and crooked on its hinges, and a rusted trailer sat sentinel just inside the entrance, listing to its left side and disappearing into a thicket of grass. Down the driveway, through and around more overgrown grass, thick bushes, and mature trees, she could make out the peak of a barn. The wood was gray and weathered in the moonlight. The property must have suffered from neglect long before Lori Ross had died.

  “Right address,” Trent said. “Should I pull in?”

  She didn’t see a white van, and aside from the opened gate there was nothing to indicate that someone might be on the property. “Drive up there and park.” She flicked her finger toward a small curve in the road that was shielded by a row of mature trees.

  Trent crept them ahead and cut the engine. “Now what?”

  She already had her arm extended for her door handle. “We take a look around. If we spot anything suspicious, we’ll call it in. Promise.” She wasn’t going to tell Trent that her desire to nail Daniel Ross had slid down her list of priorities beneath saving Logan. She got out of the car, noticing that with the headlights off, it was pitch dark. She turned on her phone’s flashlight.

  The air felt like rain, and thunder rumbled in the distance. She looked up at the sky. Heavy cloud cover.

  “We approach slowly, and we stick together,” she cautioned.

  “Don’t have to tell me twice. Last time I ran off ahead after a serial killer, I was shot.”

  They kept their flashlights aimed right in front of them to keep their beams small and pointed. Less chance of it tipping Daniel off they were there, and less chance of them stumbling on the uneven ground.

  They passed the trailer and stuck to the edge of the drive, close to the high grass. Maybe it had been a bad and impulsive idea to come here—but she shucked it aside. In life, seconds mattered, and she wouldn’t waste any more getting to Logan.

  The barn was on the left of the driveway. A white fence banked the property on the other side of the barn.

  “This used to be a horse farm,” she concluded.

  “Think you’re right.”

  They were passing the barn now, and a side door was open to the driveway. She held out her arm for him to stop. She strained to listen but didn’t hear anything. And she didn’t see any lights inside. If Daniel was in there, he was in the dark.

  Creep—

  Her cell phone trilled out into the night air.

  She jumped!

  Then she rushed to silence the thing and stepped into the grass and tucked down, motioning for Trent to follow her lead. She rejected the call, cursing. It had been Malone. She turned her phone to silent instead of turning it off completely. That way Malone could track her whereabouts if he got antsy.

  “Mute your ringer too,” she whispered to Trent, and he did as she told him.

  They stayed in their hidey-hole a bit longer. Amanda’s heart was racing and thumping in her ears.

  She got up and went back onto the driveway. They walked for a little and came to a small farmhouse. It would have been glorious in its day. Now, the roofline bowed, and the place begged for maintenance and fresh paint.

  The front porch groaned loudly when Amanda stepped onto it.

  Why am I always slinking around at night?

  She studied her surroundings and kept her hand not far from her holster, ready to draw her gun, if needed. She tiptoed across the deck and peeked into a window. There was a faint light on in a room at the back. It spilled across the floor.

  She turned to Trent. “Someone’s in there. We’re going to knock, act like everything’s normal.” That sounded like a sane option. She knocked on the door, and it swung open. She took that as an invitation and stepped inside while calling out, “Prince William County PD.”

  It was a much different approach than the “armed to the teeth” move used by SWAT, and Amanda couldn’t help but feel vulnerable and exposed.

  She repeated the callout. Still not a sound.

  The front door entered into a small mud room, and to the right was a modest kitchen. Outdated décor, but it appeared functional.

  Trent touched a countertop and lifted his hand, held it under his flashlight. “Coated in dust, but that looks almost brand new.” He pointed out a K-Cup machine, gloved up, and opened the unit. He pulled out a used pod. “Not warm, but I’d say recent.”

  “He’s been here. Still may be.”

  “But there’s no van.”

  “He’s playing us now. We’re on his chessboard.” She moved through the house, going cautiously toward the light—trying to dismiss the connotation. She certainly wasn’t ready to die.

  The light ended up being from a small lamp on a table next to a rocking chair. Most of the place was dusty like the kitchen counter, but the chair seemed to glisten. On the floor beside it was a satchel overflowing with balls of yarn.

  “It’s like Lori Ross just got up to use the washroom,” Trent said and shivered. “Also feels like her ghost’s here.”

  Goosebumps rose on the back of her neck and slithered down her arms. “Nothing creepy about that…” But it was starting to feel like the walls had eyes.

  They went through the rest of the house together and methodically. None of the rooms looked like the background in the photo of Logan. They did find prescription bottles of ketamine in the bathroom medicine cabinet issued to Lori Ross.

  “Looks like you were right,” Trent said.

  “Don’t sound so surprised. But where are Logan and Daniel?”

  They returned outside. From the porch, the moon could be seen peeking out from behind the clouds. Its light reflected off something metal to the side of the driveway…

  She hurried toward it and realized it was a wooden carport that had been overtaken by nature like the rest of the yard. She angled her flashlight into the void—

  Could it be?

  She motioned for Trent to come closer. “Help me clear this.” She started pulling away small branches and twigs as spits of cold rain hit her exposed skin and had her shivering.

  It took them little time to reveal their find.

  “Hart’s Nissan?” Trent said. “Does that mean Daniel’s got another girl? And I don’t see the white van. I think it’s time to call for backup, Amanda.”

  She heard him but didn’t respond and walked to the back of the car. She stopped next to the trunk. It was ajar. She gloved up and opened it the rest of the way. Trent’s flashlight hit the interior at the same time as hers.

  Randy Hart’s body—one bullet hole between his black, devilish eyes, and another in his chest.

  Trent stumbled back, and Amanda reached out and helped him catch his balance. He was pecking away on his phone, but she stopped him.

  “He’s dead. He’s not going anywhere. But we can still save Logan. If everyone starts storming up here with their sirens, who knows how things will turn out? Please, just wait a few min—” She sniffed the air. “Smoke—” She stepped out from under the carport and saw a flicker of orange flame in an upper window of the barn. “Fire.”

>   Fifty-Eight

  Amanda could wait for the fire department, or she could take the power into her own hands. And Logan needed her. She’d never forgive herself if he was in there, and she never even tried to save him.

  The smell of burning wood was only getting stronger and more smoke was rising into the air.

  She turned to Trent. “You make the call for backup. I’m going in.”

  “What? No you can’t—”

  “I am, and I mean it. Stay out here. If the shit hits the fan, you don’t want to get buried in it any more than you already are.” She started into a run toward the barn, unable to get her legs to move as fast as she wanted. Her entire focus was on getting to Logan. Surely he had to be inside.

  The flames were starting to dance wildly in the upper-story window. But the rain had fully arrived, and Amanda was thankful as she felt fat raindrops pelt her skin. The heat from the fire was intense the closer she got to the barn.

  She entered, moving past stalls, and started hacking on the smoke. She covered her mouth with her arm and kept moving, head down. She kept one hand poised over her weapon. She could draw and fire in seconds. Though she was wilting under the heat, and it was getting harder to breathe.

  Timber creaked overhead and ash and sparks rained down. She looked at the old straw in the stables. It would just take one to spark to ignite, and she’d be trapped in here.

  There was a door at the other end of the barn, straight ahead of her. She pushed through and opened it.

  It was pouring even harder now, and there was a thunderous crack that had her jumping and turning around. A beam had crashed through the ceiling from the floor above.

  She was left with two options. One, go out the door she’d just opened to safety. Two, go up a staircase that ran along the wall.

  If Daniel Ross had set the fire, his MO usually meant there was a body to hide. But could she live with herself if Logan were still alive and she hadn’t tried to save him?

  She coughed and watched as the fire lavishly danced across the fallen beam like it was putting on a show for money.