Malicious Desires

by Maria Pease

  “So, what do we do now?”

  “Let’s check things out here then head back and stakeout Wally’s place.”

  I looked at the phone to make sure it wasn’t a user error, but everything was in order. The signal had just dropped off. Hopefully, it would come back up soon. In any event, I was confident we’d locate the car. After all, it was a candy apple red Porsche Boxster.

  We continued around the lake, scanning the area. As we wound around a bend, a car pushed past us, moving fast. We watched it stop at the edge of the lake, and a guy got out, looking around nervously.

  “Does that scene look familiar to you?” I asked Alana.

  “Oh, my God. It looks like the car from Harveston Lake,” she whispered.

  I snapped several photos and wrote down the plate number. When the guy opened the trunk, I held my breath. He reached inside, and my stomach began to do flips. All I could think about were those text messages.

  He pulled out a boat with a cinder block attached to it.

  I took in a breath. “It’s a boat.”

  “I almost passed out.”

  I saw the color return to her cheeks. “Let’s go.”

  “What about the body?”

  “We don’t know if he has a body. At this point, we don’t even know if this is the guy sending those messages.”

  The guy checked to make sure the rope was secure then tossed the boat and the cinder block into the lake. It quickly disappeared. He studied its decent then after several minutes, he got back in his old grey Mustang and slowly drove off.

  The scene was so familiar, I couldn’t just let him drive away, even though I wasn’t sure it was the same guy. I pulled out of the lake and took a left onto Temecula Parkway, following at a safe distance. The road began to twist and turn, making it harder to keep up. At the break in the road, he took a left turn on to Cahuilla Road, heading to Anza. Six miles later, he took another left onto an unmarked dirt road. I decelerated, rolled to a stop, and watched. Up the dirt road, he parked outside a wooden cabin.

  The sun was going down, so we decided to wait to start sneaking around. In the meantime, I took inventory of our surroundings and attempted to draw a rendering. I sketched out the dirt road, the cabin, and the large garage that sat in the distance. The area was open and spacious but covered in dirt. There were no trees, grass, or greenery of any kind and I couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would want to live out here.

  “It’s kind of creepy here,” Alana said, breaking my thought process.

  “Yeah.” I reached for my phone. “Crap. No signal.”

  When the sun disappeared, I moved the Jeep around the corner and up a dirt path with a clear view of the cabin. One light was shining in the front window, and a shadow moved about.

  “Wait here.” I stepped outside.

  “Oh, no.”

  “I’m just going to see if I can take a look inside. Sit tight.”

  “Can I come with you?”

  “That’s not a good idea. Please, just stay here.”

  I moved along the side of the cabin and stopped under the window. It was cracked open, and I could hear the faint sound of canned laughter. I peeked around back and saw a small wooden deck with a couple of cheap lawn chairs. A shiny red Webber grill sat away from the house, and in the corner was a big bag of charcoal. I scanned the yard and spotted an old rusted-out truck next to a small shed. I took another step toward the back and all at once, the place lit up. I jumped back and melted into the side of the house as the back door swung open.

  “Who’s out there?” The man’s voice echoed against the surrounding hills.

  I flattened myself against the house, trying not to breathe. I waited, hoping the lights would go dark and the door would close. That didn’t happen.

  Footsteps sounded on the deck. As I glanced around, I realized there was no place to hide– no bushes or trees– nothing around for miles. I slowly got down on my stomach thinking if he looked around the side, he wouldn’t see me.

  I heard footsteps on the dirt. “Who’s out there?”

  His phone rang. “Hey. Yeah, the lights just went on. I don’t see anyone. It’s probably just a coyote.” His footsteps changed direction, and the door slammed shut.

  I gulped hard and waited. Within a minute, the lights went dark, and I crawled out of sight. I brushed the dirt off and crept back towards the Jeep.

  When I opened the door, Alana shrieked. “You scared the hell out of me!”

  “I scared you?”

  “I saw a bright light go on and I thought you were caught.”

  “The lights must’ve been on a sensor. I stepped around back, and it lit up like there’d been a freaking prison break.”

  “So, did you see anyone?”

  “No, just the one guy. Basically, it was a bust.”

  I started the Jeep and kept the headlights off as we rolled away. I dropped Alana back at the office to get her car and headed home, feeling crappy about the wild goose chase I’d dragged her on.

  Happy to be home, I went inside to find my table set, candles lit, and champagne chilling. I turned around to see Jake, coming down the stairs wearing one of my towels.

  “I needed to get cleaned up. It looks like you could use a drink.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Go get comfortable.” He handed me a glass of wine. “I’m going to get dressed then I’ll throw the steaks on the grill.”

  “I’m just going to hop in the shower. I’ll be out in five.” I bounded upstairs.

  The hot water felt good and my stress melted away. I washed my hair and was about to step out when Jake opened the shower door, dropped his towel, and stepped in.

  “The steaks are going to have to wait.” He pulled me to him, ran his hands down my back and nuzzled my neck.

  “I’ve got all night.”

  Chapter 18

  I was startled awake and sat straight up in bed dripping with sweat. The horrible nightmare about Melody being dragged out of the hospital left me with a feeling of panic. I jumped out of bed and got ready in record time. I put a call in to Monique and asked if I could head over to talk. She told me to meet her at the Justice Center in half an hour. I knew Alana would feel deserted if I didn’t include her, so I called and asked if she could be at my house in ten minutes. When she arrived, we hopped in the Jeep, headed out on to Margarita Road and took a right on Winchester. Before we knew it, we were pulling into the parking lot.

  “Sam, are you going to fill me in?” Alana asked.

  “I need to talk to Monique.” We went inside, checked in, and were told to head back.

  Monique and Frank were both there, waiting for us. I was surprised to see Frank but was glad he was there. “What’s on your mind?” he asked as we walked in.

  “Remember the girl in the ravine, off Wolf Store Road?”

  “Of course,” Monique said. “Why?”

  “Do you have an ID on her?”

  “Let me get the file. I’ll be right back,” she said.

  “Are you okay?” Alana asked.

  “I have a bad feeling.”

  “What’s going on?” Frank asked. “Did you find something?”

  “I woke up with this horrible feeling. I’m just following up. You know, gut instinct.”

  Monique came back and opened the file.

  I stared at it, my heart beating hard in my chest.

  “The girl’s name is Eva Moretti. It appears to be a probable kidnapping. Her mom said she’d gone to the mall with her friend and they both disappeared. There were no issues at home; she had a good relationship with her parents and was a good student.”

  “Eva…” I whispered.

  “Sam, do you have information on this?” Monique asked.

  “They killed her.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know exactly. We’ve been trying to locate Michael Carson. He ran away and came out here to stay with a gaming buddy, Wally Mason, who, it turns out, is a grown man. We kno
w he’s had contact with Michael but haven’t been able to locate him. We’ve been following Wally and have witnessed him escorting several teenagers around. One of them, a young girl named Melody, we found at the casino with some old scumbag. She was drugged, and when she collapsed, the old man ran. She ended up in the hospital.”

  “So where does this Wally guy come in?” she asked.

  “He brought Melody to the man at the casino and the next thing we know, the old man was taking her to the bingo room.”

  “You talked to the girl?” Monique asked.

  “Yeah. She said her friend, Eva, had been with her and some other kids and then Wally took her away and she didn’t come back. I think Eva is Melody’s friend. Jesus, they killed her!”

  “Sam, do you remember the girl who was crying when we were at Denny’s?” Alana asked.

  “Monique, do you have a picture of Eva before…”

  She handed me the photo and Alana and I stared at it before exchanging solemn looks.

  “It’s her. That’s the girl who was crying. It’s Eva.” I turned to Frank, “we need to get that son of a bitch!”

  We decided to gather all of the information and then compare notes on the best way to proceed. Frank headed back to the office and Alana and I headed over to Wally’s.

  We pulled up to the curb where we had a clear view of his front door. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Sam, no! Don’t do it!”

  “Just stay here. Call Frank if I’m not back in ten minutes.”

  As I walked down the street, I looked at the changing leaves and breathed in the cool air, though my stomach did flip-flops as I neared the house. I couldn’t help but feel the fear creeping within me.

  I moved through the gate and slowly turned the doorknob of the side door to the garage and pushed it open. I knew I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t check the door to the house, so I moved quietly, listening for any movement before trying the door. As I turned the knob, I heard a vehicle approaching. A car door slammed, and I started to panic. I moved back and stood behind the gate, my heart pounding in my chest.

  As the voices grew louder, I crouched down trying to make myself invisible. Angry voices echoed in the air. Then a door slammed, and it was quiet once again.

  I noticed a recycle bin behind me and took a quick look inside. Scribbling on a newspaper caught my eye. I snagged it, folded it up, and tucked it into my pocket. Opening the gate, I spotted the Boxster in the driveway. I quickly moved across the neighbor’s lawn and back to the Jeep.

  “I was just about to call Frank. What were you doing?”

  “Looking for evidence.”

  “Are you crazy? You could have gotten killed!”

  “Settle down, Alana. It’s okay.”

  Alana was silent on the drive back to the office, still fuming. She’d given me an earful about my lack of responsibility when I’d first climbed in, but by the time she was done spouting off, I’d concluded she’d just felt left out of the action. I wanted to tell her I’d promised both her uncle, the police captain, and Frank, that I’d keep her out of trouble, but instead, I just let her vent.

  “He’s back at the house,” I told Frank. “We need to do something.”

  “Sam, what do you want me to do? We can’t just barge in without cause.”

  “Are you serious? For God’s sake, he killed Eva and took Melody from the hospital. We don’t have time to wait to catch him doing something.”

  “You know how this works, Sam. Get me something on him, and we can put him where he belongs.”

  “I’m going to get some air.” I turned on my heels and pulled the door closed behind me. I headed over to the Swing Inn Café and took a seat by the window. I ordered some coffee, reached into my pocket with a napkin, and took out the newspaper I’d snatched. I tried to decipher the handwriting, but it looked more like chicken scratch; I couldn’t make anything of it. I sipped my coffee and continued to eye the writing when I noticed the actual paper. It was the Backpage, an advertising newspaper. I picked it up, careful not to leave my prints, and started reading. All at once, my heart skipped a beat. The ads were for escorts.

  I took out a five-dollar bill, dropped it on the table, and rushed back to the office. I took the stairs two-by-two and bolted through the door. I dropped the paper on Frank’s desk and stood there, pointing at it. “Look at this.”

  “It’s a newspaper.” He looked at me like I was nuts.

  “It’s not a newspaper, it’s the Backpage. I got it from Wally’s recycling bin.”

  Frank looked at it more closely. “What the hell?”

  “I know. Do you think this has anything to do with Michael Carson or those teenagers?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know, Sam.” He pointed to the handwriting. “What the hell does this say?”

  “No idea.”

  Alana got up from the computer and looked over my shoulder. “This paper could be important, huh?”

  “It could be,” Frank said. “I’ll call and arrange for a handwriting expert.”

  Twenty minutes later, Alana and I were at the Justice Center. As we waited, Jake walked through, reading a file.

  “He’s cute,” Alana whispered.

  I smiled. “He’s okay, I guess.”

  Monique appeared to take us back to the handwriting lab as Jake looked up from his file and spotted me. He smiled, headed over, and kissed me.

  Alana’s jaw dropped.

  I smiled at her and introduced them. We chatted for a moment before Jake excused himself.

  As we followed Monique, Alana nudged me with her elbow. I smiled.

  I handed Monique the newspaper, and she headed into the lab while we waited in the hallway. She emerged a few minutes later. “This may take a while. I gave him your cell number. He’ll call you when he finds something.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Driving back down Winchester, my mind raced as I tried to make sense of everything I’d learned. Alana was quiet and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was having second thoughts about getting involved in all this. “You okay?”

  “Sure,” she said, and then, “I was wondering, what if we can’t catch him?”

  I looked at her. “That’s not going to happen. We are going to get him.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Alana, if I didn’t truly believe that, I wouldn’t be doing this job.”

  Chapter 19

  Frank was just hanging up the phone when we walked in.

  I glanced at him then gathered up my files and shoved them in my bag. “I’m going to work from home. I need a change of scenery.”

  Frank and Alana looked up at me, and I handed Frank a slip of paper. “This is the plate number for the text message guy. Can you check this out for me?”

  “Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”

  “I just have a few things I want to check. I feel like I’m missing something so I’m going to go through everything again and see if I can figure it out.”

  “What should I do?” Alana asked.

  “Frank?”

  “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? I’d bet you have school work you could be doing. We’ll see you in the morning.”

  At the bottom of the stairs, I could see that Alana was uneasy. “I promise, if I find anything, I’ll let you know.” With that, I was on my way. Arriving home, I was eager to get my notes organized and to start reviewing them, knowing when I found that missing piece it would bring me one step closer to an answer.

  I took out my index cards and filled them with everything I knew to this point, then laid them out in order. I reached for my files and started to read, making notes of anything that stood out. It was painfully obvious I didn’t have much on the players, which just added to the confusion. I read through the file again and again… and then it hit me.

  I downloaded the photos from my camera to my laptop and studied each one carefully. One of the photos was of Wally at the Rodeway Inn with the man and woman on the stai
rs. I looked closer and realized I’d seen her before. I couldn’t place where, but she seemed so familiar. I made a copy of the photo and put it in my files with a note to investigate further.

  I gathered all my random notes and rifled through them. A light bulb went off in my head. I turned on my laptop and searched for the Backpage. In the adult section, I found assorted links to escorts, body rubs, strippers, strip clubs, dominance and fetish, male escorts, phone sex, adult jobs, and TS– whatever that meant. The listing for escorts got my attention, and I tried to remember where the writing had been on the paper.

  I skimmed the ads, jotting down contact information, and added it all to a spreadsheet. I considered calling Alana to help but quickly decided against it. I knew it was going to be a tedious chore, but I was convinced that finding the paper from Wally’s meant something. As I read, I realized there was a whole underground sex business in my own backyard I knew nothing about.

  Some of the ads made me sick to my stomach; all I could think about was Melody and Eva. Why had Eva been killed? Who had taken Melody and where was she? I hoped with all my heart she was still alive, and this information would help me to find her. Then, I thought about Michael Carson. He’d come here to meet Wally, but why? It was odd that Michael’s things were in Wally’s house, but that’s where any evidence of him stopped. If it hadn’t been for Melody confirming she’d seen him, I wouldn’t have believed it.

  Putting thoughts of them aside, I worked through the information, reading each ad and feeling completely disgusted. I was also more and more convinced that I was on the right track. I put an asterisk next to the ads that looked like they could be geared toward teens so I could check them out first. Before I knew it, darkness had fallen, and a chill filled my kitchen. I was forced to turn on the light and close up my slider.

  I checked my cell and found that I’d missed seven calls. I listened to the messages while I opened a bottle of wine; I’d had enough for the day. Frank had left me four messages, getting more serious with each one. The last one simply said to call him, so he knew I hadn’t fallen off the face of the earth. How sweet. Alana had called twice, asking if she could come by and help, and Jake had left one message. He said he’d be working late and would just head to his place so he didn’t wake me. Unfortunately, my plans for him would have to wait.