by Mel Comley
“No, we merely woke up one morning, I prepared her breakfast as normal and called her down, except she never came. Frustrated, I marched up to her room only to find her bed made and Janice and her overnight bag missing.”
“Did you report her missing straight away?”
“Not initially. I rang all of her friends—I’ll give you their details in a moment—and my husband and I went out in our cars to search the streets before darkness set in. We came home and rang the police. They said they couldn’t do anything for twenty-four hours. I was appalled by their attitude to begin with until the officers told me the shocking statistics of the runaways in the city. I had no idea. If I could’ve prevented her from fleeing, I would have, but she gave us no clue as to what her intentions were.”
“Do you think she ran away by herself, or did someone tempt her into going with them?” Alex asked.
“I’m not sure I can answer that question, Detective.”
“You said something earlier about her new friends and a trip. Is it possible one of them convinced her to join them on the trip without your permission?” Tamara asked.
“We drove to their houses, but their parents weren’t exactly forthcoming and refused to let us talk to their daughters. I’ll add their names and addresses to the list. Maybe you’ll have more luck in getting them to talk to you.”
“We’ll be asking them the question when we visit them.”
“What happens to my baby girl now?”
“Well, the medical examiner had to perform an autopsy on her. We’re awaiting the results, then he’ll release Janice’s body to the undertakers. They’ll get in touch with you to make the arrangements for her funeral.”
Mrs. Brockhurst buried her head in her hands. “The thought of my baby girl being cut open like that is too much to bear. Why?”
“I’m sorry. It’s procedure when we discover a body. Most of the time, we gain a lot of information from the deceased.”
“And what information have you gained so far, Detectives?” Mrs. Brockhurst wiped her eyes on a tissue she had pulled out from the sleeve of her cardigan.
“Nothing as yet. We should receive the results this afternoon.”
“I understand.”
Alex cleared her throat. The woman’s grief was making it difficult for her to bring up the real reason for their visit, especially since it appeared Mrs. Brockhurst would have been married at the time she lived with MacIntyre. “Mrs. Brockhurst, our records also indicate you filed a sexual molestation charge against a man by the name of Duke MacIntyre, and it was on behalf of Janice. The report says you were Mr. MacIntyre’s girlfriend at the time?”
The color drained from her face, and a hand clutched at her throat. “What? That’s preposterous. That man was nothing more than… I can’t even think of a word. Someone said I lived with him?”
“Did you file the charges?” Tamara asked. “And later drop them?”
“Yes, but it was all a mistake. I wanted him to leave Janice alone. Hank was always away on business, and I was taking care of his ailing mother at the time. I don’t know where Janice met him, somewhere in the neighborhood, but she brought him home with her one day and introduced him as her boyfriend. The man was disgusting. I threatened to call the police, and he ran off. I asked Janice if he’d touched her anywhere. She said yes, and I called the police immediately. Later, when the social workers interviewed her, they found out he had held her hand when she brought him to the house, but he’d never touched her anywhere inappropriate.”
“So you don’t know him at all or what he’s capable of?” Alex knew her voice was tinged with disappointment, but nothing Mrs. Brockhurst had provided was going to be helpful.
Mrs. Brockhurst gasped. “Do you think he killed my daughter?”
“We’re following up leads, Mrs. Brockhurst. Right now, we’re not sure of anything.”
“Have you finished your list?” Tamara motioned toward the door. “We should be going. We have a few more stops to make.”
Mrs. Brockhurst tore the page from her notebook. “You’ll let me know if you find anything?”
Alex squeezed her hand as she took the note. “I promise, as soon as we find anything, we’ll let you know.”
They rushed back to the car.
Alex fastened her seatbelt. “Well, that was a wasted trip.”
“Not a total waste. We still don’t have an ID on our second victim or the two girls that were killed later. Are there addresses on there for Janice’s new friends?”
“Only one, Amelia Dunham. And guess what?”
Tamara raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“She lives in the same trailer park as Candy Granger.”
“Crap. Maybe MacIntyre and Granger are the killers,” Tamara said.
“She was also friends with Belinda Montgomery. Which takes us right back to Second Chance. Why don’t we head over there and see if the guys have found anything?”
“I was hoping to put off seeing Reefer until we got home.” Tamara pulled onto the highway and headed into the city.
Alex grinned. “They always tell me there’s no time like the present.”
Tamara turned to glare at her. “Whoever said that never had to confront Reefer. I don’t think I’ve said it yet, but thanks, Alex.”
“For what?”
“Not asking a lot of questions or making me talk about it.”
“No problem. You’re right, Tamara—we’re a lot alike. And I’m pretty sure we both have things we don’t want to talk about.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Crimshaw parked in front of the Second Chance home and cut the motor. “Is this freaking day ever gonna end?”
Reefer opened his door. “Look on the bright side—Nobby and Blake went home to start supper. If it ever does end, at least we’ll have a good meal.”
“Yeah, well, if I don’t go home tonight, my marriage is gonna be on the outs. Susan’s starting to think I’ve got a crush on Alex.”
“Has she met Alex?” Reefer couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips.
“It’s not that funny,” Crimshaw mumbled as he trudged up the steps. He stopped at the top to catch his breath, and laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is funny.”
Reefer brushed past him and rang the doorbell. “You want to lead since you’ve been here before?”
“Depends on whether the sweet old lady or the creepy old man answers the door.”
The door creaked open a crack, and a young girl stuck her head through it. “Yes?”
Crimshaw showed his badge. “Is Mrs. Sims in?”
The girl shook her head, and Reefer knelt to be on her level. “Well, how about another adult?”
She shook her head again. “They left with the man in the big car.”
“How old are you, honey?” Crimshaw asked.
“Six, but I’ll be seven in five months.”
“What’s your name, sweetie?” Reefer asked.
“Bethany Faye Mueller-Anderson,” she rolled off with a toothy grin. “My sister’s here. Do you want to talk with her?”
“How old is your sister?” Crimshaw asked.
“She’s fourteen.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “She’s in the bathroom smoking, but don’t tell anybody.”
Reefer put his finger to his lips. “I wouldn’t think of it.”
“You can come in if you want to, and I’ll go get her.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Reefer stood and stepped inside the short hallway. “What’s your sister’s name?”
“Sarah Jane Anderson. She’s only got three names.”
Reefer pointed toward the sitting room off to the right. “You go get your sister, and we’ll wait in here.”
“Got a bad feeling in my gut about this one.” Crimshaw sat down on the edge of the small sofa. “A real bad feeling.”
Seconds later, footsteps approached, and a girl whispered, “Bethany Faye Anderson, you know you’re not supposed to open the door for anyone.”
Tha
t was answered immediately by, “I’ve got four names. It’s Bethany Faye Mueller-Anderson, and they’ve got badges.”
Bethany skipped into the room and sat next to Crimshaw. “She’s mad because she’s out of cigarettes.”
“Bethany Faye!”
Reefer intervened and showed her his badge. “Miss Anderson, I’m Agent Ben Nicols, and this is my partner, Detective Jacob Crimshaw. You’re Sarah Jane, right?”
“If you say so.”
“Can you tell me where we could find Mrs. Sims?”
The young girl shrugged. “She left.”
“Did she say when she’d be back?” Crimshaw asked.
“I don’t think she’s coming back. Does anybody here smoke?”
Reefer shook his head. “Your little sister said she left with a man in a big car?”
“Yeah, it was a lamb something,” Bethany piped in.
Sarah Jane glared at her. “Limo, dumbass.”
“Crimshaw, why don’t you take Bethany and see if you can find the kitchen. Maybe get her something to drink?”
“Come on, Bethany Faye. Let’s go see what we can find.” Crimshaw stood and took her hand. “Maybe there are some cookies in there, too.”
Reefer waited until their footsteps disappeared. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
“Why? You’re going to call Juvenile Authorities and have us taken away anyway.” Sarah Jane flounced across the room and threw herself on the maroon leather couch.
Reefer grabbed a chair and sat across from her. “How long have you been here?”
“Six months, a lifetime.”
“Are there any more girls here?”
Sarah Jane shook her head. “There was, but the old bitch always locked us in our room when they came out.”
“So you never saw them?”
She turned her head and stared out the window. “Maybe.”
“If I showed you some pictures, do you think you might recognize them?”
“Maybe.”
A car pulled up beside his, and Reefer breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll tell you what. If you’ll stay right here, I’m going to go get some pictures, and when I come back, I’ll bring you a cigarette.”
She didn’t respond, but he noticed the tension ease a little in her shoulders. “If Crimshaw comes in, tell him to save me a cookie.”
~
The front door opened, and Reefer stepped outside. “I guess here it comes.”
Alex opened her door and climbed out of the car. “I’ll give you two a minute alone.”
“Hey, have you guys got pictures of the girls with you?” Reefer asked. “And have you still got cigarettes, Tamara?”
“Yes, and yes.” Tamara scowled at him. “Why do you want a cigarette?”
“I’ve got a stubborn fourteen-year-old girl that’s refusing to talk unless somebody gives her a cigarette.”
“You can’t give a fourteen-year-old cigarettes, Reefer. It’s against the law,” Alex stammered.
“It’s against the law to sell to a minor.” He held out his hand, and Tamara withdrew the cigarettes from her purse and gave them to him. He stared at them for a second then handed them back. “On second thoughts, it might be better if you handled this. She kind of reminds me of you.”
Tamara reached into the car and picked up the folder with the girls’ pictures. “That’s not a good thing.”
Reefer chuckled. “Nope, not a good thing at all. Alex and I will search the place. According to the girl and her little sister, Sims left in a limo and isn’t coming back.”
“Where’s Crimshaw?” Alex asked.
“He took Bethany Faye Mueller-Anderson to look for the kitchen and a glass of milk and cookies.”
“Well, if there’s a cookie anywhere in this place, Crimshaw will sniff it out.” Alex stepped into the hallway, glanced into the room on the right, and spotted the angry young girl seated on the couch. She moved toward the office Joshua had led them to on her first visit. “We’ll check the office first.”
Tamara walked into the waiting room and took the seat Reefer had vacated. She tossed the pack of cigarettes to Sarah Jane.
“You got a light?”
“Matches okay?”
Nodding, Sarah Jane reached for the matches then shook a cigarette out of the pack and tossed it back to Tamara. “We’re not supposed to smoke in the house, but I don’t guess that matters anymore. He said you wanted me to look at some pictures.”
Tamara opened the file and handed her the photo of Belinda Montgomery. “Have you ever seen her before?”
“She was here a couple of nights.” Sarah Jane drew in on the cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”
“Yes. Do you know why she left?” Tamara asked.
“They took her to the basement, but she put up a fight, I guess. Joshua’s nose was all bloody, and he gave her to his brother.” She handed the picture back. “We don’t ever see them again after John takes them. You got more?”
Tamara handed her the file. “Let me know if you recognize any of them.”
“This one is Janice something. She came here looking for Belinda and got into an argument with Old Woman Sims when she told her Belinda had never been here. Called her a liar and said she was going to call the police. I think John took her, too.”
Tamara felt her heartstrings clench as an image of Mrs. Brockhurst flashed through her mind. Janice hadn’t run away—she’d come to try to help a friend. “How about the other three?”
“I don’t remember this one, but these two were both in the basement for a long time. Mrs. Sims or Joshua would take them upstairs sometimes, and I’d hear men in the house. I don’t know their names.”
“Why don’t you keep those”—Tamara handed her the cigarettes—”and show me how to get to the basement, then we’ll go see if we can find those cookies.”
~
Alex finished with the desk and moved to the closet. “It looks like they were clearing the place out.”
Reefer emptied the trash can into a bag and tied it off. “Lot of shredded paper here. We’ll send it to the lab and see if they can do anything with it.”
“There’s nothing here.” Alex moved toward the door. “Let’s check out the upstairs.”
Tamara met her outside the door. “I think we need to look in the basement first. Sarah Jane told us they were holding at least two girls down there. The two that were found murdered.”
“Where is she now?” Reefer asked.
“I left her in the kitchen with Crimshaw and that cute little munchkin attached to him like glue. They found a whole batch of chocolate chip cookies.”
Alex chuckled. “I told you if there was a cookie anywhere here, Crimshaw would find it. Lead the way, Tamara.”
Tamara led them down the hallway and into a bedroom on the right. “First time I’ve seen anything like this.” She opened the closet door, pushed aside the clothes, and opened a second door. “Unless you knew it was here, you’d never find it.” She reached for the light switch and flipped it on.
“Why don’t you let me go first?” Reefer stepped into the closet. “In case Joshua is still around.”
Tamara rolled her eyes but stood aside. “Be my guest, macho man.” She winked at Alex and whispered, “I’ve out-boxed him at every training session.”
“I heard that,” Reefer said.
“Good.” Tamara and Alex descended the stairs behind him. All three stopped at the bottom, where the cages before them told the story.
“We’d better call in Forensics.” Alex plucked her phone from her pocket. “There are four cages, so we probably know where the other two bodies at the pig farm came from, too. Maybe they can find some DNA here and we’ll get a match.”
“What about Sarah Jane and Bethany?” Tamara asked.
“We’ll have to call Child Protective Services and wait on them, I guess,” Alex answered, shaking her cell. “I don’t have any bars down here. Let’s go upstairs and make the calls
.”
“What if they separate them? I mean, they’re pretty much lost right now, and all they have is each other.”
“We have to call, Tamara. The girls can’t stay here by themselves.” Alex headed for the stairs.
“What if we called but told them we’d take them home with us tonight?” Reefer asked. “We’ve got an extra bedroom at the apartment.”
Alex watched as Tamara wrapped her arms around his neck. “All right, but you guys make the call.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Candy sat on the edge of the desk, bit into the pizza, and washed it down with Coke. The meals at Val’s were nice, but occasionally, she wanted what every teenager wanted—pizza and Coke. And Rico wanted to please her.
“So how would Samael kill my mother?”
Rico shifted on the couch. “Samael would never kill a woman like your mother.”
“Why not?”
“She is beneath him and of no significance. If he wanted her dead, he would send someone else to kill her.”
“Is that why he’s never been caught? Because he doesn’t do all the killing himself?”
“Samael only kills to punish. That is why he did not kill Dr. Jackson. Had he wanted to punish me, he would have killed her.” He tossed his pizza into the trash. “Why are you so interested in Samael?”
“But he didn’t kill you to punish her?”
Rico laughed. “Killing me would not punish Dr. Jackson. She would simply find another lackey. Besides, he is my brother. You have not told me why you are so interested in Samael.”
“If he’d known about me, would he have killed me to punish Val?”
“It is possible, if he thought you meant enough to her. First, he would have tortured you and let her listen to your screams.”
Candy hopped off the desk and went to sit beside him. “And what if he wanted to punish you, Rico? Do you care enough about me that Samael would kill me to punish you?”
He was silent for a long time, then stood and walked toward the door. “Yes, I care enough that he would kill you to punish me. I need to check on our guests.”