by K. J. Dahlen
“Alec is looking at the pages of the diary. Do you want to hear what he thinks?” Nick asked.
“I can’t sleep anyway and I don’t really want to be alone right now.”
Nick rose to his feet and waited while she wiped away the tears and stood up. He reached out his hand and cupped her chin raising her head to his. “You know, don’t you, that we’ll never let him anywhere near you?”
“Quentin told me the same thing. Thank you.”
“Come on let’s go see what Alec has to say.” Nick ushered her back to the office.
Sable avoided Hope’s intent stare and sat down at her desk. Alec Rogers was standing by the boards, but when Nick and Sable returned, he turned toward the group. “This is very interesting.”
“What can you tell us about the person or persons involved in the writing samples?” Nick asked.
Alec smiled. “Persons being the operative word, I can tell you there are actually two writers but the second writer is trying very hard to mimic the first person’s writing.”
“What do you mean?” Max asked.
“The way they phrase their comments are similar but not the same. The way they tilt their pens is similar as well, but not quite the same.” Alec turned toward the board and showed them what he was talking about. “See this letter b, it’s consistent through the first ten or so pages, and then it changes slightly in the rest of the pages. It’s the same with the way they wrote the word cool. For the first ten pages it’s the same, but in the rest of the work it’s just a fraction different.”
“So we have two different people writing these pages?” Brandi asked.
Alec nodded. “That would be my opinion.”
“Has anyone checked to see if we have a copy of Micah Reardon’s fingerprints?” Sable asked.
“We don’t. I already thought about that,” Brandi said. “I was looking to run a comparison on the fingerprint we got off the envelope.”
“Did you ever check the Reardon family financials to see if there was a withdrawal about the same timeframe as the killer visited Chicago?" Nick asked.
“That was going to be my next task,” Brandi told him as she turned back to her computer.
“Let’s find out if that’s where he’s getting the money he needs to live on. If it is, let’s put a freeze on whatever account it is.” Nick suggested.
Hope came over to where Sable sat and handed her a shoe box that had seen better days. “I know you don’t think too much of me right now, but these are some things I’ve gathered over the years looking for you and your mother. Some of the things in there I found in your mom’s apartment just after you both disappeared.”
Sable took the box from her without saying a word. She didn’t know if she was ready to forgive her mother’s cousin for lying to her or not. She set the box on the desk and looked up at Hope. “I wish you hadn’t lied to me about this.”
Hope nodded in agreement. “I know, it’s just that whatever happened to your mom that fall I felt like it happened to me too. We shared all different kinds of secrets, and I felt like I knew her better than I knew myself. When she disappeared, I felt lost without her.”
Hope placed a hand on Sable's shoulder. “Dan and I have had a long ride and we’re tired. We’re going to find some place to stay and we’ll have a bite to eat and come back later. Now that I’ve found you again I don’t want to lose track of you.”
Sable touched Hope's hand, accepting the tender gesture. “I’m afraid you’ll have to take an officer with you. Oscar knows you’re here now and we aren’t taking any chances with your lives.”
Hope went to gather the rest of her things. Sable watched and waited until Hope, Dan, and the officer left before she opened the box Hope had given her. Inside was a treasure trove of newspaper articles and police reports about murders with the same MO from all over the states.
Sable frowned as she skimmed the articles. Some of the articles were yellowed with age. She set them to one side to see what else was in the box. Next she pulled out a notebook. Sable sat back in her chair and opened the book.
The handwritten entries were not the same as the pages Oscar had sent her. These seemed more in line with a young female writer; a young female who professed to being in love. She read more intimate details of a love affair the writer was having. Could this be her mother’s own words’ Sable wondered. She tipped the book to fan through it to see just how much of the book was written and an old photograph fell out.
Sable picked up the photo and looked at it. It was a Polaroid of three young people. One was a woman and the other two were men. One of the men had long dark hair while the other had shoulder length blonde hair. Could this be a picture of Summer, Micah, and the elusive Richard?
Sable sat up quickly. She could feel her heart skip a beat. Could this picture be the break they needed to identify Oscar? She wanted to start reading the book again but she set it aside and looked in the box. The book could keep for a few minutes.
The next item in the box was a baby book. Sable opened it to find her own name inside. Details about her life from day one were written in the book and her mother had included photos and a curl of dark hair. Sable assumed it was hers. On the last page of the baby book was a necklace with the letter S on the front. It didn’t look worn so Sable assumed it had been placed in the book as a keepsake. She set the book aside and tipped the box forward. She jumped when she heard a thud.
Peeking into the box she saw something wrapped in a darkly stained towel. She picked up the object and opened the towel. Her eyes widened when she saw the hilt of a hunting knife.
“Nick,” she called out.
Nick glanced over at her and was astonished at what she held in her hand. “Where did that come from?”
“Hope brought a box of stuff she’d saved over the years and this was in it."
Nick grabbed a plastic bag from his desk and carefully placed the knife inside the bag. When the bag was closed, he took a better look at the knife. He looked at Sable and said, “I wonder whose blood it is on the towel?”
Sable felt a lump form in her throat. “I don’t know but there’s more.” She picked up the photograph that had fallen out of the book. “What do you want to bet this is a picture of Summer, Micah, and Richard?”
Nick and the other members of the team gathered around. “We need to get this blown up so we can see their faces.” He drummed his fingers on his desk staring at the box Sable held. “What else was in the there?”
“There was a book describing my mother’s affair. I found the picture in that. There were some newspaper clippings and my baby book. That’s all I found so far.” Sable told them.
Nick reached for the box and dumped it out on the desk. There were more newspaper clippings and a small child’s necklace box and another small box. Sable reached for the necklace box and opened it. Inside was a butterfly necklace that looked brand new. She set it aside and reached for the other box.
The second box held several pieces of jewelry. She pulled out a necklace and was surprised to find a tag on it. Looking at the tag she found a woman’s first name and a city written on it.
“Jennifer, Tucson 1974,” she read out loud. Sable carefully laid the necklace down on the desk and picked up another piece of jewelry. “Morgan, Denver, 1973.”
“Sweet Mary,” Max whispered. “It’s a classic serial killer’s trophy case.”
Nick nodded. “But which of our serial killers does the bloody thing belong to?”
Sable looked up from the ring she was holding. “And where on earth did Hope get it? This is not something that Micah or Richard would have just left behind.”
“Maybe we should get her ass back here and find out,” Nick growled as he reached for his phone.
Sable finished taking out the rest of the jewelry and laid everything out on the desk. There were twelve pieces all together. Twelve different women from twelve different places and they all shared one thing in common. They all died by the same hand. Sable sa
t down at her desk. This day was getting worse and worse.
Brandi sat down beside her and began taking notes. She copied down names and dates and places. “You know something...”
Sable looked at her. “What?”
Brandi nodded toward the pile of jewelry. “I knew there was evil in the world but I never thought I would get this close to something this terrible.”
“I know what you mean. We deal with the evil that man does to one another every day, but this, this is something altogether different. This is something I can’t even imagine.”
“I guess it takes all kind to make the world go around,” Brandi continued. “I guess I’d better compare these names and dates with the profile I have going. Maybe we’ll catch a break and everything will line up. At least then we can track things a little better.”
Sable shivered, rubbing her arms, “There are still a lot of questions.”
“That’s true, but at least we’re starting to get some of the answers.” Brandi got up and moved to her own computer.
Sable reached for the book her mother had written in. Maybe there would be more answers in there. So lost in the past she almost missed Nick when he came back into the room.
He went over to the boards and pinned up the blown up photograph Sable had found. When Sable and the others joined him, Sable caught her breath. Summer Quinn looked a lot like Grace. They had the same facial bone structure and Sable's eyes were drawn to Summer’s right shoulder. The photograph showed the tiny sea horse tattoo Grace had.
“What’s wrong?” Nick glanced at Sable.
“That’s my mother,” she stated.
“Well, we assumed that from the start,” Nick commented. “The woman is Summer Quinn.”
Sable shook her head. “You don’t understand. That is a younger version of the woman that raised me. That is Grace Quinn.”
Chapter Nine
“I thought you said Oscar killed her a long time ago?” Brandi sounded confused.
Sable rubbed her throbbing temples while she tried to form words that not only Brandi would understand but she would too. “That’s what he told me.” She turned to look at Nick. “I don’t understand any of this.”
“Maybe he only thought he’d ended her life,” Nick suggested. “We’re running his face and Micah’s through the face recognition program. All we have to do is wait for the results.”
“Maybe when Hope gets back, she can fill in some of the blanks,” Sable said.
“She has a lot to explain that’s for sure,” Nick said. “I would be very interested to know where the knife came from.”
“Don’t forget the box of jewelry either,” Max reminded them.
“Maybe she is Oscar’s unfinished business.” Sable remembered the comment Oscar made earlier.
“If that was the case, he could have found her and taken her out any time he wanted. No,” he paused. “There has to be more behind his motive than that.”
“We have to find a connection other than the killing one between Richard and Micah. Where did they meet, was it by accident, or was it on purpose?” Sable began throwing out ideas.
“It would help if we knew who Richard really was,” Brandi said.
“Guys, I think I found someone who could help us…” Quentin broke in.
“Who did you find?” Sable asked.
“I was rereading the social services report filed right after you were found as a kid and I made contact with one of the original social workers that worked on your case. She’s agreed to come in and give us the details she remembers.”
“Why? I mean how is this going to help us find out who Oscar is?” Sable asked.
“He chose you for a reason. What that reason is only he knows. I have a feeling this whole case revolves around you somehow. There are parts of your past that you don’t remember; whether you realize it or not, those missing parts may be what we need to find and stop Oscar, or whatever his name is,” Quentin said.
Nick agreed. “Good thinking. The more we know the sooner we’ll figure all this out.” He turned to Sable. “I know you may not want to delve into this but it has to
be done. Somehow, I think you have the answers. We just have to figure out what they are.”
“I hope you’re right but what if the answers aren’t there?” Sable asked. “Or what if I can’t remember them? What then?”
“We’ll figure that out when we get there,” Nick assured her.
A short time later an older woman came into the office. She carried a paper bag
and a brief case. “I’m looking for Quentin Parks,” she announced.
Quentin stood up. “Are you Mrs. Rutledge?”
The woman nodded and came forward. Quentin turned toward Sable and the woman followed his gaze. She saw Sable standing there looking at her. Sylvia Rutledge smiled when she recognized Sable.
“My dear, I would have recognized you anywhere.”
Sable frowned. “How would you do that?”
Sylvia smiled again. “You have a very unique color to your eyes and the shape of your face has changed as you’ve grown but not all that much.”
“Please sit down.” Quentin motioned to a chair.
“Thank you.” Sylvia took the chair. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Sable joined them and asked, “Do you remember my being found all those years ago?”
Sylvia nodded. “You were a hard one to forget.” She took a moment to look at the woman the child had become. The cobalt blue eyes that disturbed her dreams for so long no longer seemed so haunting. They were clear and bright. “Oh my yes, I don’t think I’ll ever forget you.”
“Why?” Sable asked curiously. She didn’t remember ever meeting this woman yet she seemed to have made quite an impression on her.
Sylvia took a moment to answer her. “It isn’t everyday you see a bunch of sailors carrying in this tiny bundle of a little girl. You were so afraid of them and they were so afraid of hurting you. They had told us that they noticed you at the train station a couple of days earlier but hadn’t paid much attention to you. When you followed them to the Pier, they said they tried to tell you to go home but a few days later you were still there. That’s when they brought you in. They were concerned that someone had just left you there. They tried to give you something
to eat but you wouldn’t take it. I’m afraid that if they hadn’t brought you in that day, you would have died.”
“What do you mean?” Sable asked.
“You were severely dehydrated and had nothing to eat for days. Your small body was starting to shut down. You suffered from shock and had several injuries to contend with,” Sylvia told her. She opened her brief case and produced a report from a doctor on staff at the hospital Sable had been taken to.
Sable took the report and glanced at it. It didn’t mean anything to her at the moment. She was more interested in what Sylvia was telling her. “What happened next?”
“You were in the hospital for several days. The doctors were treating your for a cut on your arm and an open sore on your foot besides the dehydration and malnutrition. When you were well enough, we transferred you to a foster home. Joyce Beaton cared for you for awhile but you needed twenty four hour care for the first couple of weeks.” Sylvia shook her head sadly. “Someone had really done a number on you.”
Sylvia inhaled a long deep breath and continued. “I came to see you every day. It nearly broke my heart.”
“Why?” Sable needed to know.
Sylvia’s heart was breaking as she remembered the pain she felt all those years ago. “It was because no matter what we did, you just didn’t respond. You seemed to be falling deeper and deeper into your own little world. You wouldn’t talk or respond to anything we asked you to do. You just laid there all curled up in a ball. Then I remembered when the sailors brought you in you were clutching an old rag doll. She was dirty and stained but you wouldn’t let her go. I found her but I couldn’t give her back to you, not in that condition. So I we
nt out and found a doll that matched her and I gave the new doll to you and for the first time in weeks I saw a spark of life in your eyes. The day I brought the doll to you was the day you began to recover. I remember telling you that the doctors at the hospital had fixed her up too. You seemed so happy to get her back. You clutched her to your chest and you kissed her and I could see that you were going to be alright.”
“Did I say anything?” Sable asked.
Sylvia shook her head. “You didn’t speak for quite awhile after that. It took you a year to say anything. By then we had found you a home with Grace and Gene Quinn. They knew about your condition and Grace was patient. She just held you and let you recover at your own pace. When you were ready, you would speak, she always said.”
Sable smiled slightly. “Did you know that Grace Quinn was my real mother? At least I think she was.”
Sylvia nodded. “I think she was too. She seemed very concerned to get you. Although I don’t think Gene was your biological father.”
Sable tried to hold back the tears forming in the back of her throat. “No I don’t think he was, but he loved me. I grew up knowing that at least.”
Sylvia nodded. “They are good people.”
“They were.” Sable told her. Changing the subject she asked. “Did you ever find out anything about how I came to be found at the Pier?”
Sylvia shook her head. “No one else ever came forward with information. That’s part of what made your case unforgettable.” Sylvia reached inside the paper bag she’d brought with her and removed one of things inside the bag. It was a clear plastic bag. She handed it to Sable.
Sable looked at her before she looked at the bag. Inside the bag was the rag doll she’d had as a little girl. She barely recognized the doll but she smiled. “Miss Glory.” She said. “You kept her all these years?”
Sylvia sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye. “I couldn’t bring myself to throw her away. I kept her to remind myself that things aren’t always as bad as they seem.”