Crucified
by Adelle Laudan
Copyright © 2011
Legz Publishing
Cover illustration by Adelle Laudan © 2010
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Ebook ISBN : 978-0-9867347-4-8
Dedicated to
All those who have ever
been wrongly judged
by others.
Chapter One
An eerie stillness settled over the sleepy hallow of Johnstown, Nova Scotia. An empty swing creaked back and forth beckoning the town children to play. Small shops littered either side of Main Street’s cobblestone roadway—void of the usual hustle and bustle on a Sunday morning.
The rumble of Taylor Danson’s beloved motorcycle reverberated through the deserted streets.
A picture of young Casey Adams had been found on the post office bulletin board. News of Preacher Adam’s pretty blonde daughter bound and gagged had the townspeople in an uproar, and all fingers pointed directly at him.
Taylor had been raked over the coals when she first disappeared. Now Chief Walker requested his presence yet again, with a much too early phone call. The general consensus—it had to be someone from town, and money couldn’t be the motive. There were plenty of people around town with more money than Preacher Adams. So Taylor became the official fall guy, as he’d been deemed a few too many times in the past.
He pulled up out front of the police station…well, a police station of sorts. It consisted of two rooms. One was where they locked up drunks who got out of hand, and the other, where the chief and his ever-present sidekick, Deputy Lucas, played cards and drank cheap Scotch.
Since the auto shop re-opened a year ago, he’d been called in and questioned at least a half dozen times, suspect for minor break ins and vandalism. It royally pissed him off being labeled a troublemaker. He wished someone would have told him about the previous owner of the auto Shop. Supposedly, the guy had been the epitome of a ‘bad ass’ biker, wreaking havoc in the small town.
Now Taylor was pegged as the same type of guy, when nothing could be further from the truth. With a heavy sigh, he lifted his leg over his bike.
Chief Walker’s oversized frame filled the doorway. “Sorry to bring you out so early on your day off, Taylor.” He rocked back and forth on freshly polished shoes. “You know how it is.”
“Unfortunately, I do. I hope you got the coffee on.”
“You bet I do.” Chief Walker opened the door and ushered him inside.
Deputy Lucas chased dust around one of the cells with a rarely used broom. The small cot had been made with fresh sheets and the smell of furniture polish mixed with perking coffee replaced the usual aroma of stale booze and sweat.
“Is it spring already?” Taylor laughed.
“Nope. They’re sending in a couple agents from the head office to deal with Casey’s abduction.”
Chief kept his back to him, making it impossible for Taylor to gage his reaction.
“You don’t say.” He folded his arms across his chest.
“Yup.” He handed Taylor a cup of coffee and sat behind a surprisingly clear desk. “I guess they figure this case is a bit much for a small time chief and his deputy.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. I’m happy to have the help. To be quite honest, I don’t know where to begin looking for the poor kid.”
“So why am I here again?” The bitter coffee assaulted the back of his throat and he grimaced. “Damn you make the worst coffee.”
Chief chuckled, setting his belly in motion above a shiny belt buckle. “Let’s just say it isn’t my drink of choice. It seems a few of the townsfolk feel I haven’t asked you enough questions.” His gaze diverted scrutiny.
“I’m getting pretty sick of being the fall guy around here. When are they going to get it through their thick skulls, I’m nothing like the biker who used to own my shop?”
Chief Walker shrugged. “If you just answer a couple questions, we can both get on with our days.”
“You’re wasting your time, but shoot.” Taylor bobbed his leg up and down.
“Where were you all day on Friday?”
Taylor let out a burst of air from his lungs and straightened in his seat. “I already told you, I closed up shop around noon, like I always do on Fridays, and went riding.”
“Where’d you go?”
“I chased some clouds down by the ocean, stopped for a bite to eat, and back home before nightfall.” He drained his cup and stood behind his chair. His patience wore thin as he clenched hands behind his back.
“Is there anyone who can testify they saw you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe the waitress at Fisherman’s Wharf. I don’t remember her name, medium height and big boobs.”
Chief Walker scrawled on a pad of paper and stood. “Thank you, Taylor. Let me remind you not to go too far in case the agents have any further questions for you.”
“Great. I better go home and bake them a fucking cake.” He looked back over his shoulder as he strolled toward the door. “Am I done here?”
“For now. Are you going riding today? It sure is a nice day for it.”
Taylor smirked, amused by the chief’s attempt to make nice. “For sure, while I’m waiting for the cake to cool.”
Outside, he put a hand over his eyes to shield them from the bright morning sun. He took sunglasses from the breast pocket of his well-worn denim shirt and put them on. A dark sedan pulled up behind his bike. He couldn’t see the occupants through the tinted windows. If a car ever looked like a cop car, the sedan did. He straddled his Harley Davidson Knucklehead and kicked her to life, keeping an eye in his mirrors.
From the drivers’ side came a tall man in a dark suit. Sunglasses hid his eyes and his blonde hair was perfectly combed back. He looked up and down the empty street and buttoned his jacket. The passenger door opened and out stepped a second agent. Even though her tailored suit said all business, she failed to hide very feminine curves. She’d pulled her red hair back in a tight bun at the back of her head. As with the driver, her sunglasses hid her eyes, but the direction she stood told him she was taking him in.
He smiled and tipped two fingers to his forehead before slipping into gear. He twisted the throttle and left the two out of place agents standing in front of the station. He imagined the chief and Lucas falling over each other to make sure the Scotch was well hidden. The poor guys were going to have serious withdrawals with the feds in town. He chuckled to himself and inhaled the crisp morning air. A nice long ride would shake away the anger he felt brewing in the pit of his stomach.
****
Agent Dianne Parker watched the motorcycle pull away. What I wouldn’t give to have that kind of freedom.
She’d walked out of the briefing earlier that morning with conflicted emotions. On one hand she wanted nothing more than to find the young girl and bring her abductor to justice. On the other hand, she wondered how many more cases like this she could take. It was becoming increasingly difficult to not become emotionally involved of late.
Maybe this one will be different.
Her gaze wandered over the charming cobblestone roadway. Small shops littered either side of the deserted street. The only semblance of life came from the diner across the road where half a dozen patrons pressed against the glass watching their every move. Two small children made faces a
t them and giggled uncontrollably.
Her last case had been particularly hard. There was no reason to predict the horrific ending. An enraged husband and father took his son after a lengthy court battle awarded the mother full custody.
The father obviously loved his son to go to such lengths. At least that’s what they had thought. On a dreary, overcast day that Spring, a cook at a local restaurant called in after finding a hand sticking out of the debris in their dumpster.
For months after they uncovered young Matthew’s body, she’d been jolted from sleep with the image of his tiny hand reaching out for someone to save him. An intense manhunt found the father in an abandoned beachfront property with a single gunshot wound to the temple. He’d left no note, no explanation for his crime. To this day, she couldn’t hear a child’s laughter without the image of Matthew flashing in her mind.
Now a young girl was missing and she’d be damned if they didn’t find her before she suffered a similar demise. To be quite honest, she didn’t know if she could handle it if they didn’t succeed. Maybe she’d been doing this kind of work too long. Her professionalism was being compromised by emotion from which she’d been trained to detach herself.
She feigned a smile in their direction and straightened her jacket as Seth rounded the front of the car towards her.
“Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She inhaled deeply and let it out slowly as she followed him inside.
A mixture of coffee and cleaning products assaulted her senses making her sneeze. The small station was no bigger than the lobby of headquarters. A seriously overweight chief of police stood behind his desk. A smaller version of the man entered the room brandishing a broom.
“Good morning. I’m Chief Steven Walker, and this is my deputy, Lucas Barnes.” He shook Seth’s and her hand in turn.
Lucas stepped toward Seth’s outstretched hand, and tripped over the carpet. His hands flailed in front of him in a futile attempt to maintain his balance. His palm landed squarely on her left breast.
Mortified, she brushed his hand away and took a couple steps back. She curbed an impulse to knock him flat on his ass.
“I-I’m sorry ma’am.” The spindly deputy’s face turned fire engine red.
“Why don’t we get down to business?” Seth took a seat by the chief’s desk and motioned for Dianne to sit next to him.
She thanked her partner with a look. He knew her pretty well. If he hadn’t stepped in, she might have torn a strip down one side of the totally flustered deputy.
Chief Walker went over the details of the case. It became more and more evident as he rambled on—they weren’t prepared to handle a case of this magnitude. The photo had been handled numerous times. If the abductor’s prints were there, they’d long ago been smudged or covered.
“So, you’re telling us you only brought one person in for questioning?” Seth flipped through his notes. “A Mr. Taylor Danson?”
The chief seemed to squirm in his seat. “If you two got here a few minutes earlier you would have met him. Taylor owns the auto body shop on the other side of town.”
Dianne looked up from her note pad. “Are you talking about a tall man with long hair, riding a motorcycle?”
“Yup.” Chief Walker leaned back in his chair. “Casey and her friends had a habit of hanging out in front of his shop.”
“Does Mr. Danson have any prior convictions?” For the first time since they were seated, she was interested in what he had to say.
“Nope, he’s squeaky clean. Not even a speeding ticket.”
“If that’s the case, why are you so interested in him? Is he a suspect?”
Chief Walker nibbled on his bottom lip. “Listen, I’m sure we do things a little different than you all in the big city. But, here in Johnstown, if the folks start pointing fingers, it’s my job to check things out. Unfortunately, the previous owner of the auto shop also rode a motorcycle. Let’s just say, the guy was trouble from the get go. Taylor has been wrongly riding in his shadow since he moved here.”
Dianne saw where this was going. Pin the crime on the biker. “Has Mr. Danson had any altercations with anyone in town?”
The chief shook his head. “Taylor’s a good guy.”
“Well, I guess we have our work cut out for us.” She stood, and Seth followed suit. She picked up the photo of a bound and gagged Casey Adams. “And time is of the essence.”
Chief Walker pointed out the window. “You have rooms booked over there at the bed and breakfast. If there’s anything you need, just say the word.”
“I have some equipment coming sometime this morning. I’d appreciate a corner of your office to set it up.” Seth picked up the file on Casey and tucked it under his arm.
“I’ll have something set up right away.” He walked behind them to the door. “I’ve told the postmaster you’d probably want to talk to him.”
“Thank you.” She shook his hand and opened the door. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about those two getting under foot. They seemed all too happy to hand over the reins.
Seth joined her on the sidewalk.
“So what do you think?” She put her hand above her eyes while she fished her sunglasses out of her jacket pocket.
“I think we need to find some coffee.” Seth smiled. His blonde bang had fallen down across his forehead and he instinctively flipped it back.
“Maybe we should change into civilian attire.” She nodded over to the diner window where the amount of people pressed up against the glass had grown considerably since they went inside the station.
“Sounds like a good idea. Let’s check into the B&B and I’ll meet you in the diner.”
“Works for me.”
Seth sauntered over to the trunk and pulled out two small suitcases.
Dianne’d lived in Halifax all her life. How different it must be to live in such a small place where everybody knew your name. There were no sirens blaring in the background of nonstop traffic. No horns honking or smog filled streets. In the midst of this tranquil little hamlet, a maniac had abducted a young girl…a preacher’s kid. The only suspect, a biker who never had so much as a fine for an overdue library book. Did the ruggedly handsome biker take the girl?
Would they find her before it was too late?
****
Casey struggled to open her eyes. She blinked numerous times trying to focus in the darkness. Painfully, she managed to inch her way across the rank mattress and wedge herself upright in the corner. With every move, the duct tape binding her wrists and ankles bit into her flesh.
An insurmountable desire to scream was stifled by the duct tape her captor had pulled taut across her mouth. She’d only seem him once since being brought here and even then the darkness hid his identity. He’d stayed long enough to snap a picture before he slipped through the partially open doorway. The sound of it locking behind him resounded through the room.
Who is this man? Why is he doing this to me?
The last thing she remembered was walking home from Tammy’s house when someone came up from behind her and shoved a putrid smelling cloth in her face.
She’d woken up in this room, bound and gagged. There was no telling how long she’d been unconscious. The only way to differentiate from day to night was the sliver of a crack at the bottom of the door where light filtered in.
Casey choked back the flood of emotion rising up in her. She struggled for breath, unable to open her mouth. Tears poured down her face unchecked, and she closed her eyes. Am I going to die here?
Chapter Two
Dianne slid across the booth’s shiny red vinyl seat, reminiscent of the fifties era. The crowd had thinned out considerably since they’d gone to their rooms to change. She opted for faded blue jeans and a black, short-sleeved blouse. She always made a concerted effort not to dress in a way that might accentuate her more than ample breasts when on duty.
She looked over the rim of her coffee cup to see her partner walk into the diner. He’d
changed into dark jeans and a yellow polo shirt.
“How’s the coffee?” Seth sat down across from her and picked up a plastic covered menu.
“I’ve had worse.”
She took another sip of her coffee. “I think we’ll cover more ground if we split up.” She drained her cup and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.
Seth nodded in agreement. “I’ll pay Casey’s father a visit, and you can go talk to Taylor Danson.”
Out front of the diner, she stopped and put on her sunglasses. Despite the bright sun perched high in the sky, a palpable cloud of unrest settled over the town. The clicking of her heels on the asphalt reverberated down the barren street. She slid in behind the wheel and turned the Sedan in the direction of the auto shop on the other side of town.
What do I know about Mr. Danson? According to research, he owned the auto shop for just over a year now, the previous owner made his transition difficult to say the least. People referred to him as the best wrench for miles, but were quick to point the finger at him when Casey went missing. The corner of her mouth lifted and she narrowed her eyes. And he’s not hard on the eyes either.
She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. “You’re on duty, Ms Parker.”
Besides, in her experience, bikers were in a class all of their own. Even if he didn’t have a record, he was probably just like the others she’d come across over the years—smooth operators, without a whole lot of respect for officers, especially female officers.
Dianne double-checked the mirror. She didn’t wear any makeup on duty, and always wore her hair up. She tried everything she could think of to look like a no nonsense agent. As she parked the car, she reached back and adjusted the strap holding her gun in place.
“Here goes nothing.” She opened the door, noting it was a typical garage, nothing out of the ordinary. That is, until she saw the incredibly gorgeous specimen of a man walking toward her. He wiped big, oil-stained hands on a rag. For a brief moment she forgot why she was there. She swallowed deep and shook her head. Get a hold of yourself, Agent Parker.
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