“That’d be great.” I looked around at the clearing. How much more daylight could I count on?
“On it.” She followed my gaze. Was she getting nervous? She dialed Cliff on her phone and told him to pick her up right away.
I looked up at the dark clouds. “We need to go. Now.”
“Okay. Let’s get moving then. Looks like we have a storm rolling in anyway.”
“Georgi?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for understanding. It’s my job.”
She placed her hand on my shoulder, and our glances met for a moment. Her eyes were rimmed with fear, and I was unable to hold her gaze. How long had Terry been on the loose? Had I put us both at risk by coming here?
The pine trees groaned under a strong gust of winter wind, sending a faint whistling sound around the bluff. Goosebumps raced over my body. I grabbed Georgi’s arm, and we faced the stony descent together. We’d watched plenty of sunsets from this very spot over the years, but nothing like the dark clouds full of a rare winter rain rolling toward us. As we skidded down the shadowy trail, a heavy threat hung in the air. Despite my cop’s backbone, shivers ran up and down my spine and I had to force myself not to scream when a branched snapped and bounced down the path.
We arrived at the parking lot right before a pounding rain could drench us both. Cliff was already waiting for us with a golf umbrella and, bless his thoughtful heart, he handed me a brown paper lunch bag as we hurried to my car. I stole glances over my shoulder, and I caught Georgi doing the same thing.
“Didn’t think I’d let you get away without a trip to the Square Tavern did you?”
“This what I think it is?”
“Oh, yeah, baby.”
“Cliff, if you were available, I’d marry you myself. Sorry, Georgi.”
The three of us embraced in the parking lot for a few moments. The warmth of their friendship and the hearty, steak sandwich and potato fries from Cliff got me all the way home in less than two hours.
I might have broken a few speed limits, so the magnetic flashing light I placed on top of my truck came in handy. The municipal plates didn’t hurt either.
By the time I pulled into my parking space at the station, tense nerves tremored and every muscle in my body seemed to have gone straight to fight or flight mode. Something else had happened. I could feel it in my bones.
Pushing past the bullpen, I headed straight to the conference room, where the voices of Nick, Mitch, and Gino argued with someone. It sounded like a small army had set up camp in there.
Liz was in. On a Saturday? She didn’t speak as I approached her desk. Her eyes were red and her skin splotchy. Not good. We nodded at each other as I strode past and stepped inside the conference room. I shut the door behind me.
I’d expected to see my friends, but I hadn’t expected to see men in flak jackets emblazoned with FBI initials. Nick’s face was grim. Definitely not good.
Everyone rose, including a man named Stone, according to his jacket, who sat on the other side of the table. I dropped into a chair, and everyone else followed suit.
I turned my attention to Stone when he cleared his throat. He offered me his hand. “Special Agent Harold Stone, Chief.”
Rising from my seat, I shook his hand. I sat back down. Nick and Stone exchanged furtive glances, and I noted a subtle nod of the older man’s head, deferring to Nick.
“Chief.” The ominous feeling dug its claws in deeper when Nick addressed me by title. “Our problem’s gone from bad to worse since we last spoke. We’ll get to the details later, but what you’ll want to know first is we have reason to believe this sick freak has escalated and grabbed a little girl this time, not an adult.” He paused to let that sink in.
Something horrible had been obvious from the grave looks on everyone’s faces and the presence of the SWAT team. My professional-self poured a molten mask over my face, even as my stomach grew rock hard and my muscles tensed to the breaking point. Flight was no longer an option. It was time to fight. An army of warriors grew within me. I nodded at him to go on. Nick looked me steadily in the eyes. There was something even worse he had to tell me. My gaze turned hard, and I gave him a barely perceptible nod.
“Yours,” he said. “Josie, it’s Samantha. He’s got Samantha.”
My teeth clamped together so hard I thought they might break. I stared at him, willing away the tears that were coming to both of us.
Samantha. Taken. In danger because of me. I had to find her. My girl. My fault. She was just barely six years old. Spunky and defiant, brilliant and deceptive. I loved that little girl more than life itself. And now, because of me and some sick fantasy Terry was nursing, he had taken her. I gathered my emotions before trusting my voice; it was almost impossible to focus.
“When? How long ago?” My girl. My fault. Stop! I had to stop being a mother and start being a cop. Samantha’s life depended on it.
“Three hours. We just learned about it forty minutes ago.”
“Tell me.” I gritted my teeth.
Stone took over the explanation. He had an annoying voice. “Near as we can tell, he, and an accomplice, followed her to an early afternoon Christmas pageant rehearsal at her church. The foster parents had dropped her off at the curb, then left. The accomplice grabbed another little girl, in front of witnesses, and dragged her, screaming, toward a nearby car. Your off-duty pals had him on the ground before he got there.”
I moaned, pressing my lips together.
Stone coughed, and spoke in low tones. “The officers made a textbook take down and started to secure the scene. By the time they called our field office, they were on their way to the station. We started interrogating the accomplice but he lawyered up.”
All the blood drained out of my face. A roaring sound filled my head. “And my girl? Where was my girl during this commotion? How did he get to her? What did he do to her?”
Stone looked me in the eye. “Terry nabbed her before she made it in the door. Must’ve, because not a witness on the scene can put Samantha inside the church. At all. No one saw her.”
Images of Samantha swirled through my mind. She had to be o.k. Please God, please. I clenched my teeth and stood up. “How is it that no one saw her? How is it that it took more than two hours to realize she was missing?”
“You can’t imagine the chaos. Kids were crying, volunteers were busy trying to grab kids and call parents. It took a while until we knew for sure what we had.”
“Giving Terry all the time he needed to walk calmly away with Sam. He’s a blender. He’d be quiet about it. He’d have studied her, known just what to say. He probably used—“ I blanched. He probably used my name.
Stone nodded his head. “We didn’t even know to look for her for over two hours. Several other kids were unaccounted for during that same stretch of time. One left with his mother, didn’t even get inside. Another was home sick. A third was out of state with her family and they’d forgotten to tell the director. Samantha’s absence seemed like another random event until we figured out who she was.”
“Is.”
“Right. Sorry, Chief. We know now the kidnapping wasn’t random.”
How did this happen? Where are you, Samantha? I know you’re out there. Can you hear me? Talk to me! Lead me to you! I promise I’ll find you. I’m coming for you, baby. Hang on. I squeezed my eyes shut, and opened them again.
Nick spoke in deep tones I’d never heard before, resonating with pain. “Tell her the rest, Stone.”
“So, Samantha was heading to the church pageant rehearsal.” His nasal voice made me want to rip my ears off of my head.
“Yes, I know.” My clenched teeth snapped apart into a half snarl.
“Right. But so were a lot of other kids. Several other little girls.” Stone kept his eyes neutral.
“Pretty bold. Why wasn’t he afraid he’d be recognized? Why risk it?” The answers to my questions were obvious even before they fell out of my mouth. Nomad really was the Mentor Sis
ter Serial Killer, and we’d underestimated him all along.
“Good disguise. Nice clothes. Dyed his hair. He totally changed his look. Your men gave us a pretty solid description of two men in the area, thought they were dads. But only one remained for the questioning. This guy’s evolved exponentially in timing and expertise.” Stone shifted his weight.
“Give me your working profile for him, Nick. I’m up-to-date through the Mad Town incident and the trail he’s left during the last year. Tell me about his movements since his escape.”
“An insider—a guard—took a bribe. Terry had this all planned before he was ever arrested. We’re going to get him, Josie. But we gotta move fast.”
The enormity of the situation slowly sank in. Please let Sam be okay, God. I could feel her. I could feel her panic. I had to snap into action and pull this team together and find my girl.
Stone cleared his throat to speak. “He studies up on unusual Mentor Sisters. Interesting ones—like you. How he makes his selections is still a mystery, but we’ve got some strong hunches. He’s taken a very keen interest in you, Chief Oliver. And you fit the profile of his vics.”
Not a profile I ever thought I’d fit. I needed Stone to finish this string of horrid news. “Go on. Let me hear it again.”
“He seems to find attractive, successful, powerful women who have chosen to give back to the community by adopting or taking a little girl under her wing. Some have been actual adoptees, some have been foster children, and some have been connected loosely through a religious organization. Others have been linked through the classic program where adults mentor a disadvantaged child, or something similar such as we have here. Doesn’t matter. It’s always the same. Hasn’t hurt a girl, so far. We haven’t yet figured out why he might have gone down that path, but we will. You know these first twelve hours are critical.”
Not true. Those lost, precious, first minutes were critical. Nick and I exchanged glances. He was thinking the same thing. My impotence in this moment, when up against such a demonic force, made my hands shake.
“We’ve got to catch this evil monster. Now.” I had to keep the team focused.
Just as Stone opened his mouth again, the phone rang.
I looked at Nick briefly before turning on the speaker phone.
“Oliver.”
“Hello, Chief. Cal Terry here. How are you today?” Terry’s voice was creepy. He had a slight southern accent, and he spoke in hushed tones. Surely I would remember meeting someone with a voice like that.
“I’ll be a lot better once I have your scrawny neck in my hands and you feel me crushing the life out of your useless—”
“Why, Josephine! You flatter me with your attention. If it’s any consolation, Jo, I can’t wait to get my hands on you either.” His voice grew harder as he finished his last sentence, causing the muscles in Nick’s jaw to tick.
“Listen, you soulless monster. You touch a hair on her head, and --” I was breaking protocol the moment I opened my mouth.
“Oh, I will, Chief. I surely will. And then I hope to do the honors with you as well. Ta-ta for now.”
The line went dead before I could find a way to lure him out. I’d lost my temper. I knew better. I’d netted no real information. By any standard, FBI or otherwise, I’d failed... miserably. I’d failed Samantha.
Stone scowled at me. “Well, that went well.”
Stone took this as his cue to impose a break. Jerk. We had no time for breaks—not until my girl was home safe. My hands itched to be around Stone’s throat to squeeze some sense into him. I’d been there less than an hour, and already I’d botched things up. I might’ve ruined everything. I might’ve cost us a life—not just any life—Samantha’s.
I could not let that happen. I needed some time with my team to brainstorm. Maybe Stone’s imposed break was a good idea.
“Let’s take fifteen.” I glanced at those people I trusted.
Samantha. The soft sound of her little voice whispering, “I love you, Jo,” before dropping off to sleep during a camping trip. Her golden laughter the day I showed her where Scooter liked to be scratched. The shining hope in her eyes when I promised her life could be better than what she’d seen so far.
Liz slipped in with fresh coffee and bagels for everyone as soon as the door opened. She winked at me with tired eyes as she drove Stone and the SWAT guys out like a herd of cattle. I mouthed my thanks as she closed the door behind them. I waited until it was just the four of us—Nick, Gino, Mitch, and me.
“Nick, we need a plan, and fast. I am not going to sit here while Samantha is in danger. We’ve got to get men out to the levy, to the playgrounds, the old fairgrounds, maybe even to the Circus World Museum.”
I was listing what could be construed as likely body drops in our neck of the woods. Each area would offer plenty of room and isolation for Nomad to do his evil work. Where else to start?
“We’ve covered that ground, Chief.” Mitch was already on the job. I had discounted my team far too much. “We’ve got K-9 officers combing all those places. We’re sending teams out to the bluffs too. I’ve also doubled the security on your mother.”
“I’m sorry. Of course you have. You love Samantha too—all of you. And thank you for thinking of my mother.” I looked around at them, and tears surfaced as I locked eyes with Nick. We had to find a way to make the best use of our considerable talent. I was failing them. We were failing her. I didn’t know what else to do.
I did know, though, what the Mentor Sister Serial Killer had done to his victims. I didn’t want to think about it. I couldn’t.
Nick stepped into the void my silence created. “Look, we need to take a deep breath and be grateful for what we do know. Let’s start there.”
We all turned and stared at him. Gino, in particular, seemed impressed with Nick’s suggestion at such a time as this. That was usually Gino’s territory.
“For starters, let’s remember that he has never killed a little girl.” I turned away from Nick, eyes stinging. “No, listen to me. We’re forgetting something. He has escalated but he has a pattern, a very distinct pattern. He isn’t going to veer off of ritual now. This is too important. This could be the mother of all kills for him.” Our confused faces seemed to disappoint him as he soldiered on. “Think about it. He plans his kills. He hasn’t varied that part so far, and he’s not going to vary now. Everything he’s done up until he got clipped was precise.”
I sucked in my breath. So that’s where Nick was going with this. Sweet hope hung in the air.
Gino looked thoughtful. “So what you are saying, or better put perhaps, not saying, is that in targeting our Josie, while he has taken a wide turn off course, our querida Samantha is not the intended victim.”
“I agree.” Mitch’s quick joy turned to anger.
“It’s me he’s after.”
“Yes.” All three of them answered in unison.
Liz knocked twice and then opened the door, ushering in Stone and his team. A plan was forming. It would be better to have time alone with Mitch, Nick, and Gino to work it out in my war room, but we’d have to settle for the FBI audience. Fair enough.
While we waited for another call, which might or might not come, every field team reported in, but they had come up empty. We all pored over a map of the area, and then we started over. We couldn’t keep walking through sludge like this. Samantha needed us—needed me. We’d learned nothing so far. Exhaustion wrapped itself around me like a shroud. Dark pictures of Samantha in the clutches of a madman gnawed at the fabric of my sanity. If she didn’t make it—no. I refused to think about that.
Everything you are is everything you need to find her. Alive.
Whoa! Where did that come from?
Peace and power streamed into me, ushering in that same strong presence of God. I breathed Him in like the sweetest fragrance, growing stronger with every breath.
My mind cleared. From the looks and responses of my three amigos, we were all having a similar experie
nce. We were on fire—planning and working together like a crew of highly-trained combat operatives.
“Okay, what do we know about Samantha? Where does she live? What does she love? How does she think? How does she respond?” Nick’s simple questions seemed to unlock parts of me that the tension in the room had sealed shut. I answered them as simply and rapidly as he threw them out. Mitch captured all the information on the white board.
“She lives on the south side with her foster family. She loves animals, especially cows. And ice cream and chocolate buttercream frosting. Pea soup made in my blender. She’s scrappy. And smart. She’s quick witted. She’s strong. She’s a survivor.”
“Yes, keep it up,” Nick said. “What would she have been wearing at the pageant?”
“A robe. She wanted to be a camel, or a cow, or a donkey, and she was mad they wouldn’t let her. She had to settle for being a wise man. Her stubborn streak made me laugh. I was proud of her for standing up for herself, so I…” I choked up. Mitch stopped writing on the board. Everyone stared at me.
“So I bought her a little stuffed cow for her to put under her robe during the show—the best of both worlds.” The excitement I’d generated died down. But I hadn’t gotten to the good part yet. “The stuffed animal’s official name was Bert, but she wanted it to be a girl, so she named her Ethel. Ethel is one of those toys with an RFID chip embedded inside. I didn’t even know the cow had a chip until I saw Sam had installed an app on my phone that used the radio frequency ID chip to give her access to an online game. I threatened to pull it out. Starter drug if you ask me—gateway stuff.”
Mitch popped up from the corner of the table. “Assuming she still has the cow with her, you know what this means, don’t you?”
“Can we track the RFID chip?” She’d have it with her; she took it everywhere. Assuming she hadn’t dropped it during the kidnapping.
I reached for the phone and dialed. Nick was already speaking quietly on his cell phone, and Gino typed on a computer tablet that I didn’t know he had. Finally, a voice answered on the other end of the line.
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