The Silent Child Boxset

by Roger Hayden

  “That's our stop,” he said pointing to a blue and white aluminum mobile home.

  It had a small front lawn, recently mowed. The windows and door were closed, and the blinds were drawn. Knight caught sight of a shovel in the car port, leaning against the wall with its blade covered in sand. He stopped before reaching the trailer and parked on the side of the road, with number 735 to their left. No one was visible inside or out.

  The pick-up truck was the only vehicle. Knight turned off the ignition as they watched the house. It didn't seem as though any lights were on inside. Aside from the truck, it didn't appear that anyone was home.

  Garrett turned to him as she lowered her sunglasses, her thoughts somewhere else. “Detective Slater...” she paused as if choosing her words carefully. “He clearly wanted to stay behind. Is he okay?”

  “He's fine,” Knight said. “Just going through a divorce.”

  Garrett leaned back. “Yesterday when briefing me, Captain Marshall told me to keep an eye on Detective Slater.”

  Knight looked at her, hoping his face hadn’t shown too much, though he wasn't surprised. “Slater is going through a rough patch right now, but things are going to get better, starting with our cracking this case.”

  Garrett then suggested that Slater should stick to paperwork and stay out of the field for the time being, which Knight took immediate issue with.

  “Have you ever been married, Agent Garrett?” he asked. He only knew that she wasn't currently wearing a ring, but he had no idea of her history.

  “Engaged, yes,” she said. “Married... no.”

  “Then you should know how it can go sometimes; how hard a breakup like that can be.”

  “I do,” she said, nodding. They sat in silence as they continued to watch the trailer. Cicadas chirped insistently from within the surrounding palmettos. The overcast sky had brightened a shade with some blue showing between the clouds. The predicted storm had fizzled out. But there was still a chance of rain that day, according to the report.

  “What exactly did Captain Marshall say about Slater?” Knight asked, unable to help himself.

  “He didn't elaborate,” Garrett said. She then turned toward him to speak more directly. “I'm sure he's had an esteemed career, but—” She suddenly stopped. “I thought I saw movement from inside. First window on the left.”

  Knight gripped the steering wheel and leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “I'd say it's about time to go in. Are you ready?”

  Garrett opened the door and stepped outside, her answer clear enough. Knight stepped out too, quietly closing his door. He checked for his sidearm and felt the bulge of his pistol, nesting in its hip holster. He walked ahead and stayed to the dirt road with Garrett following.

  They soon reached the front yard and traveled up the oil-stained cement driveway that led to the car port. He circled around the truck, glancing inside at the single bench seat in front. Trash littered the seat and floor but nothing out of the ordinary. He examined the back of the truck, where scattered layers of pine needles covered the truck bed. From behind the truck, he glanced into the backyard, with its small fire pit and lawn chairs.

  Past the fire pit was forest and the faint outline of other trailers beyond the brush. Agent Garrett stood on the driver's side of the truck, looking inside the trailer. There’d been no further sign of movement. Might have been a pet, or the shadow of a swaying tree. There wasn't anyone around, the house was quiet, and Knight began to wonder if they had the right location. He hoped that no one from the painting company had alerted Daniels and given him time to run. He circled back to the front of the truck, ready to make their presence known.

  “Awfully quiet around here,” he said.

  Agent Garrett backed toward the side of the house. “I've got a good view of the place from here. Go ahead and see who's home.”

  “Got it,” Knight said, moving along a cement path. He walked up the steps and tried to look inside the window, but the blinds were drawn. He listened at the door and heard faint music playing inside. He glanced toward Garrett near the car port and held out a finger, turning back to the door. He knocked and waited. “Mr. Daniels? Are you in there?” But there was no answer. Footsteps sounded from inside as he waited.

  Agent Garrett waved at him, eyes widened as she looked in the backyard. “Side window!”

  Knight kicked the front door open without hesitation. Pain traveled up his leg as the door swung wide, dragging on the hinge. He'd be feeling it in the morning. Through the haze of marijuana smoke, he saw a shirtless man with long hair sprinting outside the back door.

  Knight charged through the living room, only to halt in pain. His leg and knee were throbbing, and he could barely remain standing. He glanced around and observed a tattered couch with a cluttered table in front of it. There was a stereo on a shelf with rock music playing and a small TV across from the couch, its flickering images illuminating the room. Knight hobbled forward, frustrated, as Agent Garrett rushed through the backyard in pursuit. She sprinted past the back door and off to where Knight could no longer see her. He leaned against the couch, stretching his leg back. “Come on… Get moving!”

  He took a deep breath and moved toward the kitchen where the open door swayed in the wind. He began to get his footing back and walked outside, down the steps and into the backyard, a few feet from the fire pit. He swung to his right and saw Agent Garrett enter the forest with her pistol out. She shouted, “Stop! FBI!” before disappearing behind the brush.

  Knight brought a hand down his face as he muttered. The last thing he expected was a chase. Following her lead, he pulled his pistol from his side and hobbled through the yard, pushing branches aside as he entered the woods. He heard rustling and panting but couldn't see anyone. He stepped through bushes and underbrush, discovering a clear path that curved right. He hurried as adrenaline minimized the pain with each step. Agent Garrett ordered the man to stop, threatening to shoot.

  As he rounded the curve, Knight saw Agent Garrett running with the back of her coat flapping behind her. The shirtless man was ahead of her as she closed in, darting through the trees. Then the man suddenly tripped and nearly fell, allowing Garrett to tackle him onto the ground. They rolled around, kicking up dust, cursing as Knight pushed ahead, desperate to intervene. He had never seen anything quite like it, not with a female FBI agent.

  Garrett managed to get her arm around the man's throat as she pulled his arm back. Lying on his chest with dirt and leaves on his face, the man seemed to come to his senses. He gave no fight as she handcuffed him. Knight approached, gun drawn and out of breath. Agent Garrett and her arrest subject were both breathing heavily after their intense chase.

  “You want to read him his rights?” she asked, her knee pressing against the man's back.

  “Who the hell are you people?” the man asked, hair in his face, his breath-starved voice hoarse and angry.

  Knight stood over the man, amused. “I think I made that clear when I knocked.” He then began reading his Miranda rights and helped hoist the man onto his feet. His chest and pants were covered with dirt, dead leaves, and pine needles. Agent Garrett checked the man's pockets but found them empty.

  “Chet Daniels?” she asked him.

  Knight pushed him forward as they began their walk back to the house.

  “Yeah...” he said, still catching his breath.

  “Why'd you run?” Knight asked. “We just want to talk to you.”

  “Is there something you're hiding?” Garrett added. Their footsteps crunched through along the fallen needles and twigs toward the clear pathway. Daniel's trailer was partially visible through the trees ahead. A plane droned far above them in the gray sky. Unseen insects scattered for cover with their movement. Chet shook his head, hanging it low as they neared his house.

  “I didn't know who you were,” he said. Knight saw that he had the same dirty blond beard and tousled short hair as in his mugshot. His face was thinner though, and his tired eyes seemed sunken in
, as if he were ill.

  “I told you that we were police,” Knight said, gripping Daniels's back as they led him forward.

  “I ain’t done nothing wrong,” he began with a sigh. “Y'all had me spooked. Startled, you know?” He glanced from side to side, searching for their approval, but neither Knight nor Garrett made eye contact. “Come on. This is all one big misunderstanding.”

  Knight chuckled. “I imagine every foot pursuit begins as a misunderstanding, but you were clearly running from us, Mr. Daniels. There's no denying that.”

  “I'm high, man. That's all,” he pleaded. “Y'all freaked me out.”

  “I apologize,” Knight said. “Perhaps if you had just answered your door like a normal person, you wouldn't be in handcuffs right now.”

  “Screw you,” Daniels continued. “I want my lawyer.”

  Knight and Garrett guided him through weeds and into his backyard. They moved around the side of the trailer and across the front, bringing him to the Oldsmobile parked in the road.

  “I'll call the station for backup,” Knight said to Garrett. “Get a search team out here. Check out everything.”

  Upset, Daniels asked what they were talking about. “How do I even know that you’re cops, man? I wanna see some ID!” His voice rose with anger as he tried to pull away. Knight gripped Daniels's sweaty shoulder, holding him in place as Garrett opened the car’s back door. Knight pushed him inside. Daniels flew onto the car seat and looked up at them, enraged.

  Knight showed his badge and introduced himself.

  “So, what do you want?” he asked them, voice shaking.

  Knight unclipped the radio from his belt and held it up, clicking the call button. “This is Detective Knight over at Palm Landings, where we have a suspect in custody. We need a couple units and a search team here, pronto.”

  After a moment, a dispatcher's voice came through, confirming deployment.

  He lowered the radio and stared at Daniels, whose face had turned white. “Is there anything you'd like to disclose?”

  Daniels shook his head. “Nothing at all.” He paused, rocking back and forth in his seat with his anger rising. “I was smoking some weed. Big deal! Wasn't harming no one.”

  Agent Garrett suddenly cut in. “You work at Evans Brothers Painting and Drywall, correct?”

  “Yeah, sometimes,” Daniels said, wide eyed and confused. “Is this about the tools I took? I told them that I was just borrowing them. They said okay. I was gonna bring 'em back later this week.”

  “Forget all that,” Garrett said, staring at him through the dark shades of her sunglasses.

  Knight studied Daniels for a moment. He seemed to be hiding something, but it wasn’t clear. “I haven't done anything, you hear me!” he shouted, drooling.

  “We'll find out soon enough,” Knight said, ready to close the door.

  “Listen, I owe money to some bad folks around town, and I’ve just been laying low,” Daniels pleaded. “I thought you were one of those people. I heard this pounding on my door, looked out, and saw a red car I’ve never seen before. Why wouldn't I run?”

  Knight held up a hand, urging calm. “Save your breath. We're going to look inside your place now.”

  Garrett then asked him if there was anyone else inside.

  “I live alone,” Daniels said.

  Knight closed and locked the door, securing Daniels inside. He then returned to the trailer with Kelly. They entered the hazy living room with its old furniture, filled ash trays, and empty beer cans all over the place. Knight pulled out two pairs of latex gloves from his coat pocket and handed her one set. She took the gloves, thanking him, as they both pulled them on, snapping them in place. Knight observed the countertops and sink, both filled with dirty dishes.

  They walked past the open back door as a breeze blew inside, dissipating the smoke in the room. A glass bong rested on the coffee table amid candles, beer cans, and a plate of eaten chicken wings. “Looks like this guy really was hiding out.”

  Garrett nodded as they slowly moved toward the hallway that led to a bedroom and a bathroom across from one another. There wasn't much else to the place. There was no sign of the girls and no sign of anything beyond a messy trailer. Knight entered the bedroom and observed each article of clothing on the floor. There were men's T-shirts and pants, but nothing that looked like it belonged to a child. Garrett opened a hall closet between the bedroom and bath, finding it full of towels and blankets.

  “Nothing so far, but let's keep our eyes open,” she said, heading inside the bathroom.

  Knight continued his search of Daniels's room. He opened the blinds next to the two stacked mattresses and allowed daylight into the room. There was a dresser with all sorts of items on top of it: dog-eared car magazine, dirty t-shirt, joint wrapping papers, keys. The closet was open and full of clothes. Knight walked around the bed, eyes to the ground, and spotted a small yellow sock. It looked out of place among the other items on the floor. He knelt to get a closer look. It was a familiar-looking child's sock. And then he remembered where he had last seen one like it.

  “Agent Garrett, get in here!” he shouted.

  She hurried into the room, curious. “What do you have?”

  Knight remained kneeling on the floor, hesitant to even touch it. “This yellow sock. I saw one just like it in Brittany Owens's bedroom on the morning she disappeared.”

  Garrett hunched down closer, not saying a word. She examined the sock.

  “It's him,” Knight said, standing up. “We have him dead to rights.”

  Garrett picked up the sock with her gloved hands. “Are you sure? There’s lots of socks in the world.”

  Knight furiously paced the room, tossing clothes about. He approached the tall dresser in the corner and pulled out the drawers, from top to bottom. Inside each drawer were more clothes, some papers, and a drawer entirely filled with tools. He swung around to see Garrett standing at the bed with the sock in her hand. “He could have the girls held at another location.”

  Knight approached the closet, pushing hung shirts aside to look deep inside. He went to the bed next, grabbed the top mattress, and flipped it over. Garrett jumped back, startled.

  “Take it easy,” she demanded. “We don't want to compromise a potential crime scene.”

  Knight glanced at her, breathing heavily with his eyes widened. “We have to find those girls.”

  “You're basing all of this on a sock,” she said. “And while it might be important, we need more evidence.”

  Knight nodded as he calmed himself. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and then walked right past her, leaving. Garrett called out as he made his way across through the living room and out the front door. He walked down the steps and saw Daniels in the back seat with his head rested back and eyes closed. An intense anger brewed inside Knight. He moved swiftly through the yard, feeling as though he was on autopilot. The burning desire to punch their suspect's face in felt satisfying and justified.

  Daniels's eyes opened as Knight neared the door, swinging it open with uncontrollable anger. Before Daniels could even react, Knight pulled him out of the car and threw him against the driver's side door. “Where are the girls, you bastard?” He paused and then balled his fist. “Tell me!”

  Daniels responded with panicked ramblings and pleaded with Knight not to hurt him.

  “We found Brittany’s sock,” Knight seethed.

  Agent Garrett soon approached from the trailer and told him to back off. Knight hesitated as police sirens wailed in the distance. The backup he requested was not too far away. He suddenly released Daniels and backed away, out of breath with his heart pounding. Daniels fell against the car, struggling with his handcuffs.

  “Come on,” Garrett said. “Let's get him back in there.”

  They guided him back to the car and placed him in the backseat as he ranted at Knight. “I have rights, you know? I'll sue the hell outta your entire department.”

  “Shut up,” Knight said, slamming th
e door shut.

  Two squad cars appeared down the road, approaching the trailer with a cloud of dust behind them. Their sirens were off, but the lights were still flashing. Agent Garrett touched his arm, causing Knight to turn around from the car.

  “We're going to find out everything soon enough,” she said. “Just keep it together.”

  Knight nodded as the squad cars came to a halt in the dirt road beside them. Garrett had stressed patience, but every minute was crucial, especially with two missing girls.

  8

  Closer

  Chet Daniels sat at the table in the interview room with his head down and his arms across the table. He was wearing a T-shirt they had given him along with a pair of loose-fitting shoes. Knight watched their suspect on an outside monitor with Agent Garrett and Captain Marshall beside him. Daniels's hair hung in his face as one leg bounced up and down under the table. He'd been left alone in the room for the past twenty minutes. News had traveled fast through the station that a suspect had been captured, making everyone both relieved and excited. So far, however, Daniels wasn't talking.

  Knight held an evidence bag with the yellow sock recovered from Daniels's trailer, identical to the one from Brittany Owens's room. It was the strongest evidence they had linking Daniels to the kidnappings. Search teams had been deployed to Palm Landings to comb the area. The hope was the girls weren't far. All that mattered was finding them alive.

  Captain Marshall spoke as they watched Daniels on the screen. “He's got an ex-wife and a daughter. They both live out of state.”

  “How old is his daughter?” Agent Garrett asked.

  “Twelve,” Marshall said. Garrett gave Knight a look and shook her head.

  Knight ignored her. He straightened up and heard the faint snapping sound of paper crunching, coming from his coat pocket. The anonymous letter taped to his front door. He needed to get it to the lab to check for prints, but Daniels was the priority.