The Runaway Train

Home > Other > The Runaway Train > Page 4
The Runaway Train Page 4

by M. W. Griffith


  "I wonder why Rainer stepped down."

  "Who knows. Pastor Rob says that the old guy actually lived in his neighborhood, can you believe that? Guess all of those church people keep things close knit."

  A sudden image flashed in Selena's mind of the green painted bus stop they had seen after arresting Robert. "That...is weird. Why don’t you follow up on him?”

  "That old guy?" Kathryn laughed, a high pitched chime. "Give me a break. I hear he’s just retiring, probably moving down to Florida or something.”

  “It might still be worth your time. The church would have been the perfect front for an operation. He had the trust of the community. What if he hired Stan and Sandra to do all the physical work?”

  There was a pause on the other line before Kathryn spoke again. “You think he used those summer camps to scout for potential kids from all over the county? Maybe Ethan saw something there that made him so upset he took those pills.”

  “It may sound like a long shot, but it makes sense. Ethan could’ve seen Stan or Sandra drugging one of the campers. We know they used the bus system to transport them. Nobody would suspect much on the bus. All they would see is a really sleepy kid.” She released a frustrated sigh. “If you send a forensic team to sweep Larry’s house, I bet you’ll come across something. Maybe you’ll even find those missing pen pal letters.” The bus rocked to a stop outside the airport. Selena grabbed her suitcase and made her way up the aisle. "Hey, listen, I got to go. Thanks for putting up with me, and for doing that paperwork. I'll call you as soon as I get to D.C. Okay?"

  "Fine," Kathryn feigned agitation. "Don't talk to me. I'm completely disposable."

  "You know it's not like that.” Selena smiled. "I'll call you later, promise." She pressed the end button, stepping off the bus and making her way towards the airport entrance.

  A tall man with a shaved head, wearing a gray hoodie, raised a little cardboard sign into the air as the passengers climbed off the bus. The letters spelled Marrenger, and Selena furrowed her brow in confusion before approaching.

  "I'm Marrenger," she said flatly.

  “Oh.” He moved the sign aside and stretched out his hand. "Hey, my name's Jameson. The bureau sent me out here to meet you for an assignment. Apparently, it isn’t too far from your hometown.” She met his hand with a nervous shake. "Aw, Montana, don't be like that. It's cool. I don't bite."

  Selena eyed him suspiciously. "Did you just call me Montana?"

  He grabbed the suitcase from her other hand and started towards the entrance. "Yeah, my bad."

  "No," she said while following closely behind. "I don't mind at all. I kinda like it."

  Chapter Sixteen

  The sun was hot. He told the waiter to lift the umbrella at the table. The sunglasses he bought from a local gas station gave the impression that he was a tourist, not to mention the Hawaiian shirt he picked up from the same place, but that didn't matter to him. All that mattered was the rush of the sea and the taste of salt on the warm wind.

  "So," Pastor Arnold told him from across the little table. "It's great to have another believer on board with your extensive background. The thing I want to know is what else do you plan on bringing to the table? And can you handle it?"

  He took a sip from the tall, sweating glass of iced tea before responding. "Of course I can handle it," he said with a stiffness to his voice. "If God is standing with me, who will stand against? Besides, I'll need His help given my old age."

  Arnold cracked a smile. "Now, Larry, you know that you won't be alone at our church. All of us work together, like a family."

  Larry Rainer nodded and stirred the cubes of ice around with a straw. "Of course, of course. As far as what services I can provide, what do you think of a youth camp this summer? If you could give me a little bit of time, and introduce me to your previous youth minister, I'm sure that I can work something out."

  "Yes.” Arnold nodded and grinned. "The kids will love it! What a great idea."

  Larry raised his glass as though he were about to propose a toast. "Isn't it, though?”

  Behind the wheel of an SUV, Kathryn watched from across the street. “You’re doing good,” she said through a little microphone. “Keep him talking.”

  A voice boomed through her radio so suddenly that she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Alpha team is ready when you are.”

  “Not yet.” Although she was operating outside of her jurisdiction, the Plant City Police Department was glad to assist her in the ongoing investigation. “All units, please stand by.”

  She turned the radio volume down and focused all her attention on the ministers across the street. “Arnold, ask him if he’s ever heard of a girl named Vanessa Finch.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Larry Rainer’s eyes widened in panic when he heard the girl’s name. Pushing the iced tea away as though it had been secretly poisoned, the old pastor stiffened in his seat. Nothing else appeared out of the ordinary. The man sitting across from him didn’t seem like anyone special. Just a preacher running a medium sized ministry in need of help.

  The kind of help Larry could provide.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Pastor Arnold’s eyes were locked onto him. “Vanessa Finch.”

  The fact that Arnold had said it so casually, without any hint of malice or suspicion, sent a shiver lancing through him. Sweat beaded his brow, and it wasn’t because of the Florida heat. “Where did you hear that name? Is this some kind of joke?”

  Arnold tilted his head to the side as though he were listening to something only he could hear. It lasted only a few seconds, but was long enough for Larry to rise from the little table. Hands shaking, he started to back away.

  That’s when the outdoor restaurant’s peaceful seaside surroundings burst into violent life. It happened so abruptly, so swiftly, Larry began to feel a shooting pain in his left shoulder. Men with assault rifles jolted onto the patio and shouted rapid fire strings of words his brain struggled to piece together.

  Larry saw Pastor Arnold sink away into the commotion just as a police officer whirled him around and locked his hands behind his back.

  “Larry Rainer, you have the right to remain silent. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you.”

  The officer was shouting the Miranda rights so loud that Larry’s ears started to ring. The pain in his shoulder was gaining strength. It lashed and curled along his left breast.

  When the officer finally started to lead him to a row of squad cars parked just out of view of the restaurant, a familiar face smiled brightly at him. It took a moment for him to think through the pain; to match the face with a name. When it came to him, all he could do was gaze in horror.

  “The devil comes in many forms,” he managed to spit out.

  Detective Kathryn Lincoln opened the back door of the patrol unit. Her amber hair was pulled up in a tight bun, and dark reflective sunglasses masked the disgust in her eyes. “Nice little vacation spot you found here, Rainer. My advice? Breathe in that fresh ocean air while you can.”

  “Devil…” he sputtered while the officer assisted him into the back seat.

  She leaned in close, looking down at the old pastor as though he were the smallest creature in the world. “Ain’t no such thing,” she said. “Just wretched, evil men like you.”

  Part II

  “If I could slow the rain

  I’d dance between the drops

  I’d sing a special song

  To the wind

  If I could slow the rain

  I’d see our lives more clearly

  And hear the joyful noise

  Between a steady drum.”

  -Vanessa Finch

  Chapter One

  Ben Magraw tore through the branches without thinking. They slashed at his face and yanked the headphones out of his iPod. He stopped, taking in large gulps of air. Switching off the music, he pulled the tangled wires from two separate limbs trembling i
n a cool breeze.

  He brought a hand up and touched his face, wincing at the stinging sensation.

  “Smooth move, Ex-Lax,” he said.

  It wasn’t the first time he had run into something while out for a jog. Sure, it was embarrassing, but when you’re in the zone, nothing else matters. Not even getting slapped in the face by some old skeletal trees.

  The path was quiet. Just the way he liked it. Nobody to bother him, or judge him while he struggled to shred away the pounds.

  Nobody to see him making a fool of himself.

  After a moment, he tucked the headphones and iPod into the backpack. Usually when he ventured this far into the woods, he would be exhausted. Maybe his body was telling him something. Maybe he was getting stronger, building that endurance, shredding the fat.

  He was making progress, and progress deserved a little reward.

  He’d happened to bring a Snickers bar for just such an occasion. He snatched it from the backpack, and followed the line of dead trees a little ways off the trail until he reached a large rock jutting out of the earth.

  The chocolate was gooey in his fingers, but that didn’t bother Ben one bit.

  Leaning against the rock, he chomped into the candy bar like there was no tomorrow. When it was gone, he looked around at the skeletal sentinels and remembered when the woods were lush with green. When the wind blew through the leaves, it sounded like rushing waves. Now, underneath the bare branches, the trees only creaked and popped.

  After finishing the candy, he stuffed the wrapper into a pocket. That’s when he noticed something different about the ground in front of him. Grass dappled the entire area, except for one spot. The dirt looked like it had been dug up recently.

  Curious, Ben kicked at the dirt with the tip of his tennis shoe. Something was there, something right in the ground.

  He dropped to his knees and began clawing at the earth with his fingers. Whatever was down there wasn’t all that deep.

  When his hands began to brush over a small, smooth surface, Ben Magraw instantly started to dig faster. He could see the edge of something- the corner of a wooden box. Excited, he dug underneath the edge enough to grab hold of one end.

  It didn’t take much effort to pull the box out of the ground. He shifted position so he could cross his legs, allowing the secret treasure to sit on his lap.

  The thing was very plain. It had no carvings or indentions or inscriptions. Just a solid maple wood, he imagined, or maybe oak.

  When he lifted the lid, he gasped and shoved the box away.

  It landed right side up, open.

  Ben Magraw felt his breathing quicken. His stomach churned. It took a lot of effort to swallow the bile rising in his throat.

  “Oh my god,” he said. “Omigod, omigod!”

  A sharp gust of wind rattled the old branches above in response.

  He turned around facing the rock. He didn’t want to look at the thing in the box. There was no way he would look in there again. Not in a million years.

  It took several minutes for him to pull the cell phone out of his backpack. Sweat ran down the sides of his face. Hands trembling, he dialed the police.

  Chapter Two

  Kathryn Lincoln stepped off the elevator and onto the main floor. The station broke into applause. The accolades caught her off guard at first. She even turned around to see if someone more important stood behind her. A smile slipped over her face. They were celebrating her. The woman who brought down Larry Rainer. The detective who stopped a sex trafficking ring in their hometown.

  The smile quickly dissipated. Heat rose to her cheeks. She wasn’t used to this type of reception. The station’s real prize detective graduated into the FBI recently. Selena Marrenger, Kat’s former partner. The number of cases closed by Selena were astounding. Selena even helped put the pieces together on the Rainer case, but it was Kat who followed it through to the end. She was no Selena, though. She didn’t want to be, either. Closing a high profile case causes high praise. The only thing Kathryn Lincoln wanted to do was move along to the next one.

  This spirited, unrelenting dedication to work is what drove her from case to case. It kept her stable. To Kat, there wasn’t anything worse than complacency. Once you get settled, a subtle monster emerges. It’ll gnaw at the corners of a comfortable life. It’ll fray the threads of sanity. The monster’s name is boredom, and keeping it at bay made her free of it’s trappings.

  Working in homicide also meant there was some purpose to her life. There was a sense that she was chipping away at all the hardened evil in the world. She liked to imagine that at the end of her career, her work would have at least made a dent. Maybe she would be able to stand back and admire her mark in satisfaction.

  Then again, maybe she was full of shit.

  “That was unexpected,” she said as she stepped into Captain Chivler’s office. She closed the door behind her and grinned at the overweight man sitting behind the desk. “Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

  The captain’s sharp, unflinching eyes narrowed. “I don’t care how popular you are around here!” His voice boomed in the small space. “You have to follow orders. There’s a thing called chain of command, ever hear of it?”

  “I only went through the chief because the case required immediate action,” Katheryn snapped back. “He gave me the authorization to pursue the suspect outside of jurisdiction, even clearing it with the DA after I presented probable cause. If I didn’t fly down to Florida and apprehend Rainer, he would have set up an operation there too.”

  Chivler didn’t back down. A vein began pulsing in his forehead. “How long have you been out of the academy? You need something, you talk to your direct superior. End of discussion!”

  “Honestly, do all police captains have anger issues?” She cocked an eyebrow to match her sly grin. “It’s like an eighties cop movie in here.”

  The captain was about to explode. “I’m not going to take disciplinary action against you. That’d make me look like an asshole. Instead, I talked to payroll. They’ve informed me of all the vacation time you have built up. I suggest you take a couple weeks off. Reevaluate what it means to follow simple instructions.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “You’ll get a vacation one way or another. Now, get outta my office.”

  Chapter Three

  Kathryn closed the door just as a man cut across the line of desks in a jog. He was pointing a finger at a senior investigator named Ryan, and holding up his other hand like he was about to stop traffic.

  “You tell me. Tell me if it’s him!”

  “Hold up,” Ryan said, blinking at the man.

  Kathryn moved beside the older investigator. She divided a confused look between the two men before offering a peaceable smile. “Let’s take it easy. What seems to be the problem?”

  “This is Mathew Wade,” Ryan said.

  “You didn’t answer my phone calls. I left at least a dozen messages.” Mathew’s eyes were pleading and his voice cracked. “Is it him? Did you find my son?”

  Ryan lowered his head. “It’s too early for anything official. We’ll keep you updated.”

  “Too early?” Mathew huffed. He took a step forward. Kathryn noticed he was a good six inches taller, and at least forty pounds heavier than herself. From the corner of her eye she could see Ryan backing up. “How can you not tell? It’s either him or it isn’t!”

  “I can’t disclose any information about an ongoing case unless we find a connection.” Ryan held up his hands. “Trust me on this. We’ll tell you as soon as we know.”

  Tears welled in the man’s eyes. He glanced at Kathryn and then back to Ryan. “I want to know. I have to know.”

  “Come on.” Ryan placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Mathew took a deep breath. “No. It’s okay.” He wiped the wetness from his cheeks before turning and making his way back across the station. “Call me the second you know,” he called over his shoulder.


  “What was that about?” Kathryn stood next to the senior detective and watched the tall man leave.

  “Two years ago, Tyler Wade disappeared while staying with his grandmother over the summer. Case went cold, but it’s still open. I was the original police assigned to it, but I’m telling you. This kid, this nine year old boy,” Ryan snapped his fingers, “vanished into thin air.”

  “But you found something?”

  “A jogger found a box in the woods, just off the Greenbelt path. Inside was a set of bones, badly burned.”

  “Not from an animal, right?”

  Ryan nodded. “The skull kind of gave that away. It’s small, adolescent. We’ve sent it to the state lab for analysis, but right now that’s all we have to go on. There weren’t any prints on the box, other than the jogger’s. No other signs of tampering.”

  Kathryn chewed the corner of her lip. “You don’t think it has anything to do with Rainer, do you?”

  “Hard telling.” Ryan shrugged. “I’m free this evening if you want to go over the file with me. Maybe grab a bottle of wine? I’ve got this merlot, aged six years.”

  “No thanks,” Kathryn gently said. “You haven’t heard? I’m on vacation.”

  Chapter Four

  Wintry air gathered the leaves in the parking lot at the far end of the police station. Kathryn dug inside her purse for the keys while making her approach to the Nissan Maxima with a dented bumper. Her cellphone began ringing from somewhere in the cavernous mess of the bag.

  Kathryn didn’t even notice the man until she ran directly into him.

  “I’m sorry,” she started, open-mouthed. It was Mathew Wade. He held her in his storm colored eyes and she struggled to look away. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “It’s fine,” he said plainly. They stood facing each other in silence for several moments. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”

 

‹ Prev