Lost Girls: A gripping thriller that will have you hooked (Ben Forrester FBI Thrillers Book 1)

by Jon Mills

Ben scoffed. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Until we can determine what has happened here—”

  “You need to focus on those who are closest, because, of course statistics tell you that only a tiny minority of kidnapped children are taken by strangers.” Ben knew what he was going to say. It was like a bad record.

  Chief Danvers’s eyes darted between Dakota and him.

  Ben sniffed. “Perhaps that’s why you haven’t caught this man already. And, if you actually had paid attention to the photos of the victims, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Crime photos?” the chief looked at Ben with a frown on his face.

  “Yes, the ones I was looking at last night, when you assume I was here kidnapping my own daughter.”

  Chief Danvers cleared his throat. “Woods, a moment.” He walked out. Dakota grimaced; Ben figured she hadn’t told him. A short distance from the room he could hear Danvers grilling her.

  “You know I could take your badge for that? What on earth are you doing giving our private police reports to him?”

  “I think he can help, chief.”

  “You don’t get to make that decision. Now I would advise you to tread carefully.”

  Dakota came back into the room.

  Ben breathed in deeply at the thought of this predator watching his daughter. What was he doing with her now? Where was she? All his nightmares came back and bore down on him with a crushing blow. It didn’t matter that the M.O. didn’t fit Henri Bruns — that was the first person he assumed responsible when Janice told him she was gone. Racing over here all he could think about was him returning to finish what he had started.

  “Any other neighbors report seeing or hearing anything suspicious?” Ben asked.

  “We have officers out canvassing the homes now, and we’ve blocked off Route 3. But no word so far.”

  Everything inside him wanted to tell everyone to get out. The thought that someone might screw up the crime scene, taint evidence, or move an item was beyond troubling.

  “We need to get started.”

  He was used to entering chaos and having to sort through the dross but this was coming at him too fast. He fished into his pocket and pulled out headache medication. His one hand trembled as he twisted off the lid and pills dropped to the floor. He yelled and tossed the empty plastic container across the room. Dakota stood silent for a second and then began picking the pills up.

  “Leave them. Just leave them.”

  “Ben, listen, the chief —”

  He cut her off before she could finish. “You wanted my help. You’ve got it. I’ll handle Danvers,” he said before leaving her standing and walking back to where Janice was. One of the other officers had brought her a hot cup of tea. She was still crying. He knew she was blaming herself, and what it felt like to bear guilt and mull over the things you should have done differently. He’d been doing it for over two years.

  He crouched and palmed her hands in his own. “Janice. I’m gonna find the man who did this. We’ll get Chloe back.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Down the dark cavernous tunnel he carried her limp body over his right shoulder. Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he trudged deeper into the depths of what was a paradise to him. Unconscious she didn’t feel his hand slide up beneath her shorts and over the curve of her cheek. She was like an early Christmas gift to himself, one that couldn’t be opened for a few days. It was all part of the excitement. Logic told him to rush, check her skin, have his way and then if she wasn’t right, dump her body but where was the fun in that?

  He was sure she could stay.

  It wasn’t like the police were going to find him. He had this fine-tuned. His mind drifted back to the girl’s room. Even though that bitch interfered she was no match for him. How quickly she dropped. He chuckled at the thought. He’d considered lingering inside the house — taking his time, pushing the risk level as far as he could. This was exactly what he needed. Taking them from the forest had become too easy, the excitement had waned. But this, oh this was a new level of exhilaration. Sure, he’d broken his method of operation but that’s what would confuse them. As he reached a large metal door with a bolt, he unlatched it and swung it open. It groaned for oil.

  He wasn’t sure how long he would keep her. That depended on her. How compliant and responsive she was to his every command. As he laid her down on the bed, he took a step back and reveled in his handiwork. Why had he waited this long to take people from their homes? It was even easier than campsites. Numerous times he had run into park rangers or hikers who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Thankfully he knew the terrain better than any of them.

  What would it be like to be caught? He’d mulled it over in his mind, closing his eyes. No, not yet. There were more women to be snatched, tortured, and brought to the very brink of death. More to add to his collection. He had considered taking the other woman. He laughed, remembering the look on her face. Who the hell are you? She was pathetically slow. One swift blow to the head and she was out cold.

  He stepped closer to gaze at the girl. She was so quiet and still. He placed his hands around her small throat and felt a sexual rush as he began to squeeze lightly. He released. Not now. Wait. Hold off. It’s so much better when they are awake and looking at you. You become God to them; he told himself. You are the giver and taker of life. He turned and walked to the corner of the room where he kept additional zip ties. He snapped them between his hands, making sure they would hold before proceeding to wrap one around an ankle and then the iron bedpost. Once he was done one he couldn’t resist running his fingers up her legs over her top and squeezing her perfect mounds. She was definitely special; a perfect addition to his collection.

  He got down on his knees and inhaled her scent, getting high off the natural aroma of her light body mist. He pulled out his blade and sliced away at her silky bedroom shorts until she was fully exposed. Continuing up with the blade he tore through the thin white T-shirt until her white bra was showing. One quick snap and her breasts billowed out. Seventeen and as ripe as can be. He gazed at her nakedness, his pulse racing and arousal taking over.

  He licked his lips and willed himself to stay calm and not touch her. But he had to at least see if she could stay longer than twenty-four hours. He paced back and forth for a second, grunted, and then flipped her on her side. His eyes scanned back and forth.

  Perfect. Her skin was absolutely perfect. Turning her over, he could barely hold in his excitement as he finished restraining her. The very thought of how it would look got him hard.

  Pulling back from the bed, he took a seat on a chair in the corner of the room to gaze at her flesh. It was exquisite. No tattoos. No birthmarks, or skin modifications. He pictured in his mind what she would look like alongside the others. Maybe this time she would be the one.

  Only time would tell.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chief Danvers was trying to get the media under control. It wasn’t working. Keeping a kidnapping under wrap wasn’t easy with social media. Locals tweeting about police on scene had got others curious. Neighbors had shown up outside Janice Turner’s house. Then, of course, there was all the attention from the Taylor girl who had been found dead and her friend Helen Hayes who was still missing. This was spiraling out of control fast. He stood behind a podium in front of the department trying to hush the group of reporters standing a few feet from him. A few officers, including Dakota Woods, stood beside him. Local news, crews from Ellsworth, and even as far as Boston were gathered to hear good news. He didn’t have it. Most were holding out their phones, snapping shots and looking to be the first to snag the story.

  “On Friday at approximately eight a.m., park rangers came across the body of a female at the foot of Mount Champlain in Acadia National Park. It is currently being treated as suspicious. We have not released the identity and nor will we be discussing the details at this time. Our team of highly qualified officers are currently following up on leads at which po
int we’ll be able to provide more information.”

  “Is the missing Hayes girl linked to the latest kidnapping?”

  Danvers looked at Dakota then back at the reporter who’d asked. “Whoever is responsible for this will be apprehended and be brought to justice here in Maine. That’s all I can tell you right now.”

  The reporters grumbled and protested as Danvers stepped away from the mics clustered together.

  “Chief, I need a word,” Dakota tried to get his attention.

  He continued moving towards the door at a fair clip as cameras flashed. “Not now.”

  Ben had spent the better part of the day down at the station answering questions. As they didn’t have any reason to hold him, they let him loose. After getting out of the station, he drove Janice to the home of a friend in Tremont who had offered to have her stay there for a while. The line of questioning at the station was to be expected. They had been through his house and removed computers. While this monster had his child they were wasting time searching for dirt on him.

  Ben returned to Janice’s home with his mind full of questions. It was dark now and as he drove down the long road that was hedged by dense trees he could see porch lights glimmering. Where was he that night? Why her? Was it random? No, he’d forced his way into the house. He was determined to have her. You were looking at her, weren’t you, before that night? he thought to himself.

  He parked in the driveway and let himself in. He felt around for the light switch and turned it on. He’d been to Janice’s house many times at night but even he found himself bumping into furniture. She loved antique items, the more the better. Wherever there was space, she found something to stick in there. You must have had a flashlight. Ben went into the kitchen and searched the counters and drawers for a flashlight. Not finding one he went into the garage and found one in the toolbox.

  He hit the button and gave it a few smacks with the side of his hand to get it to shine. After turning on all the lights in the house, he ventured out back using the side door on the garage. He wanted to see what the intruder had. He sniffed the air. Ben gave the sliding doors a tug. Locked. Had any of the neighbors seen a light through the trees the way he’d seen their porch lights? Even if they had, he doubted it would have given them cause for concern.

  Ben walked backwards from the house, casting a glance at each of the windows. A police cruiser drove by. He’d told them that he would be staying at Janice’s house for the night and that more than likely they would see him puttering around with a flashlight. The last thing he wanted was some rookie cop shooting him in the middle of the night.

  The two-story house was perched up on a mound of earth. At the furthest part of the yard you couldn’t see directly into the windows above. He would have wanted to have a clear view of the comings and goings. A six-foot cedar fence wrapped around the property line to prevent the dog from getting out.

  The dog, Jasper. It was alive when he arrived but docile. He’d forgot to ask Janice about that. Had he drugged the dog? There was no way that dog would have let anyone in without barking up a storm. It wasn’t trained like Jinx but it wasn’t friendly to strangers. In fact, that was the only reason why he was willing to let his daughter stay at her home. It gave him a sense of peace knowing Jasper was there but now he realized it had been pointless.

  He walked to the back gate and unlocked it. It took him directly back into Acadia’s woods. It was dark and dense. A perfect place to stay hidden out of sight and observe. He turned and shook his head. No, the fence was in the way. He surveyed the area for a tree that might be easy to climb — something with low-hanging branches. Finding two, he tucked the flashlight in his back pocket and climbed. It had been years since he had done that. Making it up he could see the house but it wasn’t a perfect view. Back on the ground he tried the next. He tried another. Still no good, but it did reveal something in the tree beside him. He made his way down and then climbed the second tree. Sure enough, broken limbs — now that gave him a wide shot of the house. A chill came over him thinking that hours earlier, he’d been sitting here.

  Ben remained there for ten minutes staring at the house. Mosquitoes buzzed around his head like mini RC helicopters. Fireflies flashed inside bushes in front of the house. Why this one? Did he come out here on weekends? That would have been the only time Chloe was present and she’d only been here over the past three months. But the police reports said the previous women who’d been taken were hikers and campers. Chloe did neither. She hated mosquitoes. The other women were taken from campgrounds and in the middle of Acadia. Why did you come to the border of the forest unless you were looking to increase the risk factor? You’re bored, aren’t you? he thought to himself. The thrill was in the risk of being caught. Ben chewed it over in his mind. There may have only been seven known to the police, but he was convinced there were more. He’d taken more women and grown tired of what he was finding in the woods. This allowed him to observe, to see them undress, and to look at their skin.

  Ben raked the light over the bark on the tree where he might have torn a piece away. With all that pent-up frustration and sexual energy it wasn’t uncommon to come across traces of semen left behind.

  Back at the house he looked at the area where he’d entered. Police had tried for prints but didn’t find any. None on the doorknobs, the side walls, or the pane itself. He’d been wearing gloves. Inside the home Ben went around and switched off the lights until he was cloaked in darkness. He returned to the entry point and moved through the house, noting every creak that the floorboards made. He listened to every nuance that a house this old would make. The thump of the metal ventilator as the air conditioning kicked in. The noise from random cars that might have driven by. Had they seen his flashlight? Was he even using one that night or had he been watching them for so long that he was confident of getting upstairs without bumping into anything? It was possible. As his eyes adjusted to darkness, the edges of objects became visible.

  Still, this was new to him. He was used to approaching them on the forest trails. Perhaps crouching down in a bush as a runner, hiker, or bicyclist made their way along the path. Or did he even need to do that? What if he didn’t need to hide? It would explain why no one heard anyone scream. How could you blend in with your environment, appear safe and not appear as a threat?

  Ben was about to ascend the steps when his phone rang. It startled him and a cold fear flushed through his body.

  Chapter 19

  There were very few times he’d heard them scream. It was usually in the first few days after he’d brought them back and before he broke them down — that’s what it was all about, breaking them down. He wasn’t in a rush. You didn’t rush these things. He knew about the Stockholm syndrome and used it to his advantage. It was all about getting them to be emotionally attached to him. At least the ones he wanted alive. The others… he snorted, sitting naked at his table creating a new mask to replace the one that had been ruined. This one was much better. It had more wrinkles to it. There was something strangely horrifying about aging. The way skin would lose its suppleness and appear almost as if it was melting off the skull itself.

  A police scanner played quietly in the background. Domestics, disputes, all the usual crap that happened in a small town. It kept him one step ahead of them. Police were stupid; they wouldn’t follow him into the forest. That kind of recklessness would get them killed.

  He’d had a close encounter with one young officer three years ago. Now that was one he would have liked in his collection. She had guts. Pity that bear trap took her leg out otherwise she might have been someone he would have enjoyed playing games with. He’d considered going back and releasing the trap and taking her but common sense prevailed.

  Taking the new mask, he slipped it over his face and admired it. It fit like a glove and smelled fresh. Completely naked he danced slowly, hearing music playing in his mind.

  All around him hanging on the walls were animal heads, every single one of them he’d hun
ted and killed himself. Deer, raccoons, wolves, bear, all the way down to small animals like rabbits and squirrels.

  That’s how it had started.

  Hunting humans — could it be done?

  Yes, yes it could.

  He reached for a robe behind the door, a black one with a red stripe around the edge. He slipped it on, letting its silky material awaken his senses. Standing barefoot in front of the mirror he admired himself before going out into the tunnel and walking down to the rooms that housed his collection. There were ten, each one naturally formed by the ocean, deep below the Acadia National Forest.

  “Now who’s going to be the lucky one tonight?” he said, tapping the room doors with excitement while tiptoeing in unison to the music playing inside his head. Swaying, turning, and running his fingers across the metal doors while strumming them, he heard their cries. They knew what was in store. Of course he kept them sedated but not enough that they couldn’t know what was going on or feel the fear. Did they fear him? Did they hope he didn’t choose them?

  He stopped in front of a door and pulled the metal latch back. Inside was a beautiful brunette that he’d taken from a nearby campsite. She’d been here for over a year. So many times he had considered disposing of her but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. She was too lovely.

  Unlocking the door, he cracked it open and leered inside. The look on her face never changed. It was one of terror. She shuffled back as he came in and sealed it shut.

  Her screams could be heard filling up the hallway as he slowly approached her.

  “Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

  Chapter 20

  It was Nate Mueller. Ben jabbed accept and placed the phone to his ear as he continued ascending the stairway. Every few steps it would creak hard.