The Shadow Cell: A Chilling Psychological Thriller (Wolf Lake Thriller Book 6)

by Dan Padavona

  “Nothing that night. I allowed Lonnie to sleep with me. But the next morning, as I vacuumed Lonnie’s bedroom, I found dirt on the closet floor. It could have come from Lonnie’s sneakers after he played, or . . .”

  McKinney’s eyes widened in horror.

  “My God. What if the man was inside the house?”

  31

  Thomas waited until Mr. McKinney drove away before he turned to Agents Bell and Gardy.

  “What do you make of McKinney’s man-in-the-closet story?”

  “It’s a long shot, but worth checking into,” Bell said. “Have forensics examine the kid’s closet.”

  Down the hall, Deputy Aguilar packed her belongings and exited the station without saying goodbye. Thomas followed her from the corner of his eye as he pictured Lonnie McKinney. Was the child locked in some hellish house on the outskirts of Poplar Corners? Thomas hoped the boy was still alive.

  “How long did the killer hold the last child he abducted before he dumped the body?”

  “Seven days,” Gardy said.

  “Then we need to find him soon.”

  Gardy lifted his chin at the rapidly emptying office.

  “Appears everyone except the evening shift is headed home. That’s probably our cue to grab food before we go over the evidence again.”

  Thomas glanced at his watch.

  “I’m meeting Chelsey for dinner at my house. The two of you are welcome to join us, if you wish to discuss the case.”

  “Appreciate the invite, but Bell has her eye on a seafood joint on the west side of the lake. Meet you at your place around six?”

  “That works for me.”

  During the drive back to his lakeside A-frame, Thomas couldn’t shake the creeping sensation the killer had entered Lonnie’s bedroom and hid inside the closet while the boy slept. He recalled his own night terrors—the dirty towels in the corner that appeared as slithering pythons in the dark, a tree’s shadow that he swore was a cackling witch or a man with a knife.

  The boogeyman.

  The Poplar Corners ghost was more than a Peeping Tom. He slipped into homes and stalked people in the dead of night. Did he fantasize about sex and murder while he observed them?

  He stopped the F-150 in the driveway and shut off the engine, expecting to find Chelsey’s Civic. She hadn’t arrived yet. Naomi waved as she wheeled Scout through the yard.

  Jack greeted Thomas with endless kisses, tail wagging to beat the band. Thomas removed his hat and set it on the chair before he searched the refrigerator for a cold drink. He checked his messages. Nothing from Chelsey to warn she’d be late.

  No sense waiting. He started the water boiling. By the time Chelsey arrived, he’d have dinner ready. The phone buzzed.

  “Hello?”

  “Good afternoon, Sheriff.”

  Thomas didn’t recognize the singsong voice. A chill ran down his back.

  “Who is this?”

  “Don’t play ignorant, my friend. You know who I am.”

  Dammit. If the agents were here, they could trace the call.

  “Where are Lonnie McKinney and Scott Rehbein?”

  “Don’t you wish I’d tell?”

  “If you did, it might convince me you are who you say you are.”

  “I’ll do you no favors, Sheriff. You spoke unkindly of me. I assure you, I’m not impotent or frightened of the opposite sex. I’m more man than you’ll ever dream of being.”

  Thomas rushed to the window and peered outside as Chelsey’s car pulled to the curb. He waved his arms, urging her to hurry. Busy lifting two grocery bags out of the trunk, she didn’t see him.

  “Why kidnap children? What do you hope to gain?”

  “You’re wasting time, Sheriff. Where are my manners? Enough about me. Let’s talk about you.”

  “No, let’s talk about Lonnie McKinney.”

  “I’m in control. Growing up must have been difficult, yes? Asperger’s syndrome. Ah, yes, I did my homework on you, Sheriff. Bet the other children made life difficult. Back then, kids weren’t as accepting of autism as they are today.”

  “This isn’t about me.”

  “You made it personal when you taunted me on live television. When you were young, you were poor at sports, the gym class klutz because of delayed motor skills development.”

  Outside, Chelsey stood on tiptoe with both bags clutched under one arm as she closed the trunk.

  “Your classmates bullied you, yes? When you called me socially awkward, you were talking about yourself. Don’t lie, my friend.”

  “I had difficulty making friends. So what? Put Lonnie on the phone.”

  “But not everyone turned their back on you. Not Chelsey.” Thomas froze. “Ah, I struck a nerve. Chelsey abandoned you at a vulnerable age and tore your heart out. Poor Sheriff. Yet hope springs eternal, and your paths crossed last year. I don’t blame you for carrying a torch. She’s quite striking.”

  “Don’t speak her name again.”

  “Or what?”

  Thomas ran to the door and threw it open as Chelsey walked up the ramp. He caught her eye and pointed at the phone. Understanding quickened her pace, and she ran inside and set the bags on the floor. Thomas placed his index finger against his lips. He didn’t need to tell Chelsey to phone the agents. She placed the call while Thomas continued.

  “Still there, Sheriff?”

  “Let me speak to Lonnie. Prove to me he’s alive and unharmed.”

  “Yet you always maintained high integrity, a positive attribute. But you went too far. Because you strove for excellence, everyone around you fell short of expectations. The other children at school, your parents.”

  “Stop.”

  Chelsey made a winding motion with her hand. The FBI was tracing the call, and Thomas needed to keep the psycho on the phone.

  “You’re detail-oriented. Isn’t that right, Sheriff? Everything must be just so. If the walk from the curb to the door takes an extra step, you return until you get it right. Everything must be exact. Precise. Am I throwing you off your game?”

  “Not at all. Continue, please. This is educational, and I value your opinion.”

  The caller cackled.

  “Don’t be sarcastic. You’ll upset me again, and you don’t wish to anger me.”

  “What do you want for Lonnie McKinney’s safe return? Is it money you’re after?”

  “Money doesn’t motivate me. But respect does. I have one demand.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “Tonight, on the evening news, you will retract your statement and give me the respect I’ve earned.”

  “And if I do, you’ll release Lonnie and Scott?”

  “They belong to me now, Sheriff. You’ll not see them again.”

  “Then why should I agree to your terms?”

  The line fell quiet for several seconds. Thomas worried the killer had hung up before he spoke again.

  “If you don’t do as I ask, I’ll tear your family apart, my friend. I’ll take someone close to you and mail you each body part every Christmas until you’re old and shriveled. How would you like that?”

  “Release the hostages. Please. Scott has his life ahead of him, and Lonnie is just a child. Listen to reason. You’re not a monster.”

  “I expect your retraction tonight. Meet my demands, or your family pays for your sins.”

  “Wait. What happened between you and Father Josiah Fowler?”

  The call ended. Thomas turned to Chelsey, who still had the FBI on the phone.

  “Tell me they caught the bastard.”

  “Gardy and Bell think he’s using a burner. They’re working with the cell company to pinpoint his location.”

  Thomas blew out a breath and leaned against the counter. Chelsey pulled him into her embrace. Her perfume was delicate, fresh, and warming. Normally, everything felt right in the world when Chelsey was in his arms. But his world tore at the seams.

  “I overheard the conversation. Will you go on the news and meet his deman
ds?”

  “No. I intended to upset him,” he said, stroking her hair. “Apparently, the interview worked. But I may have gone too far. I’ll never forgive myself if he hurts Lonnie and Scott.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, Thomas.”

  He held Chelsey at arm’s length and met her eyes.

  “Until we catch this guy, you can’t be alone.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “He’s watching you, Chelsey. He warned he’d hurt my family, and I believe he’s talking about you.”

  32

  The sun dipped below the western ridge. Night crept out of the shadows like a vampire that had spent the day hiding from the light. Inky darkness leaked through the valley, coloring the lake black, shrouding the yards and houses, forcing the street lamps to ignite.

  Deputy Aguilar turned her RAV4 out of the state park and slalomed between the potholes. After turning onto the lake road, she flipped her high beams on. As she drove, she recited the speech she’d worked up in her head.

  “Sheriff, after long consideration, I’ve decided law enforcement isn’t for me. I’m giving you my four-week notice, effective immediately.”

  She sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

  “That sounded cold. I’m not that terrible, am I?”

  Lips moving in silence, she rephrased her resignation speech. It still didn’t sound right. She respected Thomas, and she loved the people she worked with. They deserved honesty. But she couldn’t tell him the ghost of Avery Neal knocked on her door after the witching hour, invaded her dreams, and appeared on lonely roads with a twisted grin on his lips.

  Paranoid over hallucinating again, she swung her gaze across the road, expecting to see the dead officer’s bloody face staring at her. The windshield misted over, so she turned on the air conditioning to clear the glass. Along the road, a silver-gray morass of fog curled out of the ditch and spilled across the blacktop. She switched her high beams off after the light reflected off the mist. Last month had been one of the region’s rainiest, and the drainage creeks still tumbled through the ditches, sparking early evening fogs. Aguilar reached for her radio and pulled her hand back. If she radioed dispatch, she might change her mind about quitting tomorrow.

  And changing her mind wasn’t an option. She needed to sever ties with the department. Forever. It was the only way to put the Avery Neal nightmare behind her and forget what happened.

  The fog thickened and slicked the windshield. She turned on the wipers and eased up on the gas. Both hands gripped the steering wheel as she leaned forward. Visibility continued to drop as the fog blossomed. She tapped the brakes when a shadow moved off the shoulder. One blink, and the figure was gone. Another hallucination, another phantom of Avery Neal emerging from the mist to haunt her. Aguilar grit her teeth and refused to pull over. She wouldn’t succumb to illusions. Not tonight.

  The SUV rounded a bend. By now the streetlights should have been visible. But the fog swallowed all.

  She lowered the window. Outside the car, the lake sloshed against the beach, though it remained invisible. Her speedometer read fifteen, and it seemed like she was flying at warp speed.

  A car popped out the fog without warning. Aguilar slammed the brakes and skidded to a stop. The car lay halfway on the shoulder, the other half jutting across the road. Its blinkers flashed blood-red.

  Aguilar sat behind the wheel with her heart racing. This wasn’t an illusion. She’d come with a hair’s width of crashing into the car. Opening the door, she verified her vehicle was on the shoulder and not blocking traffic like the disabled car. A quick glance behind her, and she stepped out.

  Night had deepened since she left the park. The fog muted her footsteps as she approached the car.

  “Hello? Is anybody injured?”

  No reply.

  She reached for her flashlight and swept the beam over the rear windshield. Couldn’t discern anyone inside. Weird. Did the driver abandon the car and wander down the road? That would be a death wish in fog this thick.

  “Can anyone hear me?”

  She assessed the vehicle. It seemed in working order. No flat tire, no gas or oil leak. Had she driven faster, she would have wrecked the RAV4 against the car’s bumper.

  The blinkers kept pulsing like an undying heart. Aguilar rounded the car and knocked on the driver’s side window. Nobody sat in the seat, and no keys dangled from the ignition. She flicked the beam across the backseat. Empty.

  She glanced back at her SUV. The police band radio sat in the passenger seat. Aguilar didn’t have a choice. The abandoned car was a road hazard, and she needed to call it in before someone came around the bend and crashed. She blew out a breath and memorized the license plate. The make and model would be easy to remember—a midnight blue Tesla. She didn’t recall seeing any cars like this in Wolf Lake.

  Aguilar hustled back to the RAV4 when the gravel crunched on the shoulder.

  “Who’s there?”

  Her first thought was the driver had abandoned the vehicle and wandered down the road for help, possibly losing himself in the fog.

  She strained her eyes. The mist concealed the road.

  “I’m an off-duty sheriff’s deputy. Follow my voice if you’re lost. I’ll call your vehicle in and get a tow truck to—”

  The lightning shock of the Taser struck her chest and flung Aguilar against her SUV. Aguilar’s back collided with the grille. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to the blacktop, twitching and squirming as the current scurried through her body like venomous spiders. Her hand reached for the bumper as footsteps approached. A deranged cackle came out of the fog.

  “Good evening, Deputy. You’re coming with me now.”

  The fist struck her head and slammed her against the macadam.

  Two hands clutched her ankle and dragged her toward the Tesla before she blacked out.

  33

  Full dark blanketed the lake shore behind the A-frame’s guest house. Inside, Scout Mourning wheeled herself into the front room where Darren, Raven, and LeVar waited at the card table. She’d promised her mother she’d be home before ten, but the voice in her head told her this meeting might run long. Her mind still buzzed from spotting the FBI agents entering Thomas’s house. She could hardly believe Agent Scarlett Bell had knocked on her neighbor’s door. Though Scout wanted to meet the famous profiler with the BAU, she understood Agent Bell wouldn’t visit Thomas’s house unless something horrible had happened. Worry sat in the pit of her stomach. Had the killer struck again?

  “Now that everyone is here,” Raven said, pulling up a map of Poplar Corners on the computer monitor. “Let’s begin the meeting.”

  LeVar rocked back in his chair and asked, “Why did the FBI knock on Thomas’s door earlier?”

  Scout searched the concerned faces at the table.

  “He’s pretty good about telling me when something important happens,” Darren said, drumming his fingers on the table. “But I haven’t spoken to him today. What did you see, LeVar?”

  “Not much. Shep was already home when I arrived. While I made dinner, an SUV pulled into the driveway. That’s when I noticed the FBI agents.”

  Darren put an arm around Raven’s shoulders.

  “You all saw the news, right?” LeVar gave Darren a blank look. “I figured. Nobody watches the local news anymore. Thomas called out Lonnie McKinney’s kidnapper. He referred to him as an impotent coward who’s afraid of women.”

  Scout touched her heart.

  “That doesn’t sound like Thomas.”

  “He’s trying to unsettle the kidnapper and force the man to focus his attention on Thomas. It’s a risky maneuver. If it works, the kidnapper will contact Thomas.”

  “Or attack him.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. But if the psycho showed up this afternoon, we would have heard. The other possibility is the unsub will take his frustration out on Lonnie McKinney and Scott Rehbein, and nobody wants that. Let’s hope Thomas didn’t receive bad news. I’ll talk to
him in the morning after things die down.”

  “That makes it even more important we catch this creep and determine if he’s the man who kidnapped Lonnie and Scott,” said Raven.

  Darren lifted his chin at LeVar.

  “Tell us what happened the night you visited Poplar Corners.”

  LeVar told his story to the others. Though Scout had remained in the car, she’d witnessed the shadowed figure stalking out of the woods before LeVar’s mother drove away. The memory chilled her.

  “You think the guy following you was the Poplar Corners ghost?”

  LeVar lifted a shoulder.

  “I never saw a face. It might have been someone out for a walk.”

  “In the meadow after dark?” Raven asked. “Doubtful.”

  “That meadow borders the Santos property. If the ghost stalked Harmony Santos before the abduction, the meadow and woods provided the perfect cover. From my position, I could look into every house in the neighborhood. The meadow stretches around the outskirts of Poplar Corners.” He stood from his chair and walked to the monitor. “Check it out. See this cluster of sightings? The McKinney house is right here.” LeVar jabbed his finger inside the cluster. “And the woods and meadow run two hundred yards behind the property. That makes it easy for the ghost to sneak into backyards without drawing attention.”

  “But where did he go afterward? He doesn’t live in the woods.”

  LeVar rubbed his chin.

  “That’s the part that confuses me. Whoever he is, he’s damn proficient. Nobody glimpses the ghost unless he wants them to.”

  “He wants to frighten people,” Scout said, causing the others to nod.

  “But by the time a neighbor reports a sighting and the authorities arrive, he disappears.”

  Scout pushed herself to the computer and typed on the keyboard. She loaded a web page of eyewitness recounts.

  “The stories repeat themselves. Someone spots a creepy guy outside their window, then he escapes through the backyard and vanishes.”

  “Like he’s an actual ghost,” Raven said.

  Darren smirked.