by Cole Baxter
“I’d have to agree with you there,” Gabriel said. “Unfortunately, my captain thinks there’s reason to believe that he took your son. I’ve been close to the case for a few days now, so I think we’re looking for a completely different type of person. But if you’re the captain of a precinct and a known pedophile kills himself after being brought in for questioning, that raises a lot of red flags. Sometimes, when there’s a lot at stake, it can be hard to see past that. When you’re in charge, there’s a lot of pressure to make a call. Sometimes, it might not always be correct.”
“Where’s the pressure coming from?” I asked frantically. “I’m the one with the missing child and a stalker after me. I’m the pressure, am I not?”
Gabriel sighed deeply and sat back in his chair. “Let’s pretend for a moment that you’re a month in the past. Your son is safe, and your stalker has not been in contact with you for years. For all you know, he’s dead. Now, how would you feel if you saw in the news that a pedophile was suspected of kidnapping a young boy?”
“Pretty scared,” I admitted, trying to follow his line of thinking.
“Exactly. A lot of people would not hesitate to demand the maximum sentence, even if this guy wasn’t charged with the kidnapping. So, imagine what people would do if they found out that the pedophile was being set free.”
“Outrage,” I said softly.
“Precisely. Now, in our case, the creep is dead. If you’re in charge of making people feel safe, you want to assure your public that the risk is gone. He could release a statement saying that the prime suspect is dead, but the child is still missing. That way, the town can organize a search party for the child and it will bring everyone together. It’s a big, feel-good moment when the boy is found safe and sound.”
I was having a hard time comprehending his hypothetical statements. I couldn’t pretend a child was missing when my Gregory was being held by a freak.
“This isn’t just some random kid we’re talking about,” I said, raising my voice. “This is my son. He’s the only one I’ve got. He’s the only living memory I have of my husband. If I lose him, them I might as well let the guy just take me. Nothing will matter anymore. How can you give up on this case?”
My hands started to tremble and my face felt hot. I wanted to pick up my bagel and coffee and throw them at the wall, but I remembered I was in a police station and my case was already being dumped off onto a citizen search party. I wasn’t exactly a pillar in the community, either. I wasn’t sure if anyone would even show.
“I’m not giving up on the case,” he said, “but I don’t have the support of my precinct. I’ve been working on it pro-bono since last night. I’m trying to give it the full attention it deserves, but I’ve been given more cases in the meantime,” he said, slapping a stack of folders on his desk.
“How do you expect to have the time to work at night?” I asked. When I gave him a closer look, he did seem very tired. There were light purple bags underneath his dark brown eyes.
“That’s the problem,” he said warily. “I’m a single dad. I really hate having to hire someone to raise my girls. If I’m lucky, I’ll make it home by bedtime so I can kiss them goodnight. Then, I work while they sleep. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a few hours of rest before I have to get them ready for school. Sleep deprivation doesn’t help detectives, either. I’m really trying my best, but I just wanted you to understand why progress might seem slow. You’ve brought in a lot of good information, but we don’t have a bunch of people working on it now. You’ve got me, and whatever assistants I can rope into doing a little under the table work for me.”
“That’s not fair to my son,” I cried.
“I know,” he said gently. “I know it’s not.”
“Then why don’t you stand up to your boss?”
He sighed. “There’s one police station in town. If I get fired, I’ll have to move. That means I’ll have to uproot my daughters from the only home they ever knew and take them somewhere else. In the meantime, I’ll have to search for a new job so I can afford to take care of my kids.”
I stared at the floor. It was over. My son would never be found unless I found him myself. Before long, I would be kidnapped, too, and there would be no one to search for me. Suddenly, I had an idea.
“Would the case be reexamined if I suddenly went missing?” I asked, rage embedded in my tone.
“Oh, come on,” Gabriel said exasperatedly. “Are you saying that you’d allow yourself to become bait in order for the police to take notice?”
I didn’t like seeing him angry, especially with me. “I don’t know,” I backpedaled. “It’s just another hypothetical, you know?”
“Annabeth,” he said, reaching across his desk to grab my hands. “Please don’t do anything to harm yourself,” he begged. “I’m serious about this. Your stalker wants to complete the set. As long as he’s working on grabbing you, your son should be safe and he’ll stop leaving us little hints. We need you on the outside if we want to find your son. If he has you, then we may never recover the two of you. Do you understand that?”
I nodded.
“Good,” he replied sternly. “I have to go interview suspects for another case now. If you have any information, please come to me first. I’m still working on the case, even if no one around here knows that,” he said softly.
I got up from my seat and stormed out of his office without saying another word. On my way out to the parking lot, I made sure to glare at every single police officer who crossed my path. A morbid thought popped into my head that I couldn’t shake. I was under a lot of stress and usually wasn’t so rude, but I couldn’t help myself. I was fuming.
“I hope you have fun recovering my dead, violated body,” I spat. “I guess I’ll see you all then.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Once I had calmed down from my talk with Gabriel at the police station, I was mortified with my behavior. They had let my child and me down, but I was making myself very unlikeable. Typically, that wouldn’t faze me much, but I needed a favor from them. If Gabriel was upset with me, he might not work as hard on my case, seeing as he really didn’t have to work on it at all.
Sorry for the drama at the police station yesterday, I texted him. I’ve been under a lot of stress, but that’s still no excuse for my behavior. I’m glad you’re still trying to help my son. I hope you still want to help after I was so rude to you.
I received a message back instantly, though I waited a few minutes to read it as I mustered up the courage.
Don’t worry about it. I understand. Do you have any more leads?
I wish I did. I’m going to talk with a friend who knows some stuff about construction. Maybe he knows something that could help us.
Good luck, he responded. Stay safe.
My heart lurched in my chest. How was it possible that he still cared about my wellbeing after I was such a terror in his office? While I didn’t understand, I was extremely grateful to have him working on my case.
Remembering what Jacob had told me earlier in the week about his new job, I decided that he might have some insight into who my stalker was. I was impressed with Gabriel’s profile, but it didn’t seem complete. Otherwise, it would have been fairly easy to catch the guy, right? I just had this feeling that one little puzzle piece would crack the case wide open. I only had to tip one more domino for all the others to fall into place.
I drove down the dusty road to his most recent construction site. Jacob had worked with computers for years before he discovered that he could use his software to do architectural work. When he explained it to me, I thought it was rather brilliant. It kind of seemed like he was cheating the system, but that was the way that technology sometimes worked. If he could find a cheaper and more efficient way to do things, then he might as well give it a shot.
Somehow, Jacob managed to create a database, of sorts, that stored blueprints of just about any building in the public record. Then, designing a new place was just as simple a
s clicking a few features and letting the computer plan the rest. He could even 3-D print building components with the software. He needed a few hired hands to piece the building together, like a Lego house, but it was simpler and cheaper than your typical construction crew. Apparently, he was making good money and didn’t have to work that hard. I only wish I would have thought of the idea first.
When I pulled up to the site of the new community center, I saw a bunch of guys resting around a water cooler. Realizing I was in the presence of a lot of builders, I clutched my pepper spray in my hand, tucking it inconspicuously into my pocket.
“Do—do you know where Jacob is?” I squeaked, suddenly afraid that he wasn’t at the site.
“He’s in there,” a burly guy said, pointing to a trailer office.
I nodded my head at the construction worker and dashed into the office.
“Annabeth!” Jacob exclaimed, his ruddy face turning a shade brighter. “What are you doing here?”
“Sorry,” I said hastily. “Is this a bad time? I just wanted to talk to you about something.”
“No, not at all.” He grinned. “I just wasn’t expecting you. Are you okay? You look rattled.”
I shook my head. “Just a little jumpy these days. Ever since I realized that my stalker is probably a construction worker, I’ve been nervous around those types.”
“Those guys out there?” he asked. “If one of them lays a finger on you, I’ll kill them. You don’t need to be afraid when I’m around.”
“Okay,” I said softly.
“Can I get you something?” he asked. “You look like you’re wasting away.”
“No, I’m fine,” I responded.
“I’ll get you coffee,” he insisted, retreating to the kitchenette at the back of the trailer. I picked up the newspaper from his table and began to flip through the pages. I saw an article about Morrie and it sent fresh waves of anger through me. I couldn’t help but think of all the naïve mothers out there who were so relieved to have a convicted pedophile off the streets. Only I knew that the danger was still out there.
“Here ya go,” he said brightly, setting a cup in front of me.
“Aren’t you having one?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Already had mine for the day. So, what’s on your mind?”
I tried to think of the best way to word what I was thinking. I knew that if I gave Jacob too much information, he’d take it upon himself to solve the crime. After all, he said that he had too much free time on his hands these days. I certainly didn’t want to tell him that the police had all but given up on me. He would probably go into a rage and cuss out the police officers. It might be warranted, but it wouldn’t help my case.
“The police profile suggests that my stalker could be in the construction business.”
“Really?” he asked, looking interested. “And you wanted to talk to someone who knows about construction?”
“Exactly,” I said, relieved that Jacob understood. “The police are having a hard time nailing down a guy who has construction skills and a motive to harm people. I guess I was wondering if you knew anyone who fits the description.”
“You think I know your stalker?” he asked, looking amused. “That would be insane. Do you think that he could be right under my nose this whole time? I think I’m a little more observant than that.”
“I don’t know,” I said warily. “I’m at the end of my rope here. I’m just trying to gather as much information as I can. Do you know anything that can help me?”
He frowned. “You poor thing. You look so tired. Really, I think that coffee will help you. If you want, you can chug it down and take a short nap on my couch. I do it all the time. You’ll feel so much better and your mind will work more efficiently.”
“No, that’s okay,” I replied. “I just came here to talk. So, do you know any workers with a dodgy past? We’re not necessarily looking for someone with a felony conviction, just an anger problem or something of that nature.”
He thought for a minute, scratching his head. “Not really. A lot of these guys have records, but they do good work for little money, so I have no problem with them. Do you want me to start interrogating them?”
“No,” I replied quickly. The last thing I wanted was for Jacob to tip off a potential suspect. “I don’t need you to do anything. I just wanted to see if you had any leads. If I showed you a picture of some construction, do you think it could help you remember a particular builder?”
“Pictures?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
I dug in my purse for the copies of the Polaroids that Detective Reyes made for me. I hadn’t looked at the photos since they arrived at my house.
“The sick son of a bitch sent me pictures of his handiwork,” I replied. I found the sheet that only contained the maze and passed it to him. I deliberately left out the photos of my son and me.
“Wow,” he said.
“I know,” I replied. “It’s awful.”
“It’s impressive,” he said. “Hold on, I want to get my reading glasses. My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
He walked away from the table and began rummaging through drawers in the back of the trailer. I took the opportunity to dump half of my coffee into the potted plant by my side. It was an old trick I had learned in my youth. I couldn’t stomach the stuff at the moment, though I knew that it would be rude to keep refusing his offerings. If I had more than a few sips, my stomach would surely reject it.
He came back with large glasses on. He looked awful in them, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. He was a sensitive guy, always had been.
“Let’s get a closer look at this, shall we?” he said with a hint of a smile on his face. I hadn’t even gotten the chance to explain what I knew about it. He was too busy mumbling to himself about the construction.
“Well, what do you think?” I asked nervously.
“It’s brilliant. I mean, it’s really good planning and craftsmanship. It takes a certain genius to make a maze. Was it hard to get through?”
I nodded, feeling weird about our conversation. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“I bet it was terrifying. Did you feel like you were going to be trapped in there forever? Did it make you lose hope of ever seeing the outside world again?”
I frowned. “Yeah, it was the worst time of my life,” I said. “I really don’t like your interest in this. I think I’m going to go.”
“No, no,” he said hastily. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to think of contacts for you right now. I’ve got to know someone who is capable of something like this. Finish your coffee and I’ll come up with some names for you.”
I sat back in my chair and took his suggestion. I raised the cup to my lips, but I noticed something white floating around in the black coffee. I figured the cup was dirty, so I pretended to take a little sip when I noticed that Jacob was staring straight at me with a smile on his face.
“What?” I asked, feeling my phone buzz in my purse.
“Nothing,” he said casually. “Who’s that?”
I looked at the message. Gabriel was asking something about the brown van.
“It’s my mom,” I lied. I scanned the text message, unsure as to why he’d ask about the location of Jacob’s parents. I typed back, telling him that they had a home in Florida.
“What does she want?” he asked. “Did you tell her that you were coming over here?” I could see him trying to peer over the top of my phone, so I discreetly tilted it toward me. I didn’t want him to think that I had anything to hide, but I certainly didn’t want him to catch me talking to Gabriel. Not only was he a police officer, but Jacob seemed to think that I was into him.
“No,” I replied, distracted by my conversation with Gabriel. “She’s updating me on my brother’s condition.”
We found a brown van in a shop outside of town. The mechanic said that there were bullet holes in the door and the wheel wells were bent from driving over something, like a median. It’s registered to David
and Cynthia Morse, but the owner is located in Florida. I believe these are your friend’s parents. If so, he needs to be brought in for questioning immediately. Do you know where we can find him?
My stomach dropped. I looked up at Jacob to find him staring at me again. I couldn’t let on that he was a suspect in my case or he would panic and do something drastic. I had to keep calm and continue having a casual conversation with the man who had caused a lifetime of misery for my family and me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
My mind immediately sifted through all of his odd behavior throughout the week. He’d reappeared into my life after the kidnapping like a white knight coming to save me. When I needed support and reassurance, he’d asked me intrusive and inappropriate questions. When I asked him for expertise and showed him deeply troubling photographs, he smiled and praised the creator. He pushed food and drinks onto me, drinks with white residue floating around in the cups. Repeatedly, he asked me on dates while I was dealing with a personal crisis and got agitated when I refused him. He wanted to keep tabs on me, but not because he wanted me safe. He just wanted me alone.
I was absolutely petrified, but I couldn’t let Jacob know it. I just needed to find a way to get out of his trailer and back to the police station, anywhere to be away from him.
“How’s he doing?” Jacob asked.
“Pneumonia,” I replied, trying to text Gabriel back without Jacob catching on. “He’s in bad shape.”
“That’s too bad,” Jacob said. “It’s a shame he had to get caught up in all of this. I don’t think Tom really ever liked me. I never understood why.”
“That’s not true,” I said, crinkling my brow. “Tom’s a really nice guy. He’s not the type to dislike people for no reason.” I was suddenly feeling very defensive about my brother. If Tom didn’t like Jacob, it was because he was being a cautious older brother. I finally understood why my mom didn’t want me around Jacob as a child. He was grooming me to one day be his.