by Lisa Harris
“Were there any witnesses to Marissa’s abduction?” she asked.
“A woman leaving the library saw Marissa get into the car that wasn’t her own. She didn’t think about it until she saw on the news that the girl was missing.”
“Did she get a description of the driver?”
Garrett shook his head and started walking again to the end of the row of cars. “It was too dark, and she never saw his face.”
“What about the vehicle?”
“A dark-colored SUV. It’s not much to go on, but we’ve got people checking video surveillance in the area to see if we can come up with any hits around the time frame she left.”
“It’s the same thing that happened with Sarah. He did something to lure them into his vehicle,” she said. “And I think I might have found something.”
He stopped next to his car and pulled his keys out of his pocket. He needed to leave, but he also knew her well enough not to dismiss her. She’d probably spent as much or more time as he and Sam had, looking for her sister over the past few months. “What have you got?”
“I think I know the reason the girls got into the car—or at least why Sarah got into the car. We know for certain that she’d never just get into the car of a stranger. It had to be someone she knew or trusted.”
“We came to the same conclusion.”
“I talked to the librarian this morning, where Marissa went missing,” Nikki continued. “She told me something she forgot to tell the police. Just before eight thirty, the time Marissa left the library, she saw a blue strobe light reflecting on the wall of the library. She went to the window to see what had happened, thinking there was a wreck or maybe someone had been pulled over. But by that time the light had stopped, and she didn’t see anything, so she forgot about it.”
“‘I’m not sure I understand,” Garrett said. “It could have been a squad car passing, or an ambulance—”
“I don’t think so.” Nikki shook her head. “I think there was a squad car outside. Or at least someone who wanted Marissa to think he was in a squad car.”
She pulled a folder out of the bag she was carrying and set it down on the hood of Garrett’s car.
“These are photos of the Crown Victoria believed to have abducted Sarah. I’ve looked at them a thousand times, but for some reason up until now I never noticed this. If you look carefully, you can see suction cup marks on the windshield. Anybody can buy a police strobe on eBay that fits onto your windshield with suction cups.”
“I don’t know. I see where you’re going, but it still seems like a stretch.”
“I don’t think so. I called and talked with the owner of the car, Matthew Banks. He told me he’d noticed those marks after his car was jacked. He said he never sticks things to his windshield because he knows how hard it can be to get the marks off. You think it might be a stretch, but if we knew we were looking for someone posing as a police officer, it might help.”
He couldn’t argue with her reasoning. “That was always one of our theories, but we haven’t been able to prove it. Your sister’s case was the only one where someone actually saw one of the girls get into the car. But even if you’re right about this, I’m not sure how it’s going to help us track him down.”
“Let the public know you think he might be gaining the girls’ trust by impersonating a police officer. That information might not save Sarah, but it might save someone else.”
“He’ll just find another tactic.” Garrett hesitated, wishing immediately he could take back his harsh words. But they were true. This guy was like a chameleon, and they needed to find a way to stop him. “I really do need to go, but if you leave me what you have, I promise I’ll follow up on this.”
“Thank you.”
“And Nikki . . . ,” he said as she handed him the file. “We are going to find her.”
Nikki nodded. “I just hope that when we do find her, she’s still alive.”
Garrett was still thinking of what Nikki had shown him when he arrived at the Dillinger home twenty minutes later.
Marissa’s aunt met him on the porch. “Special Agent . . .”
“Addison.”
“Sorry . . . Please tell me you have some news about Marissa. We’re doing everything we can to put out the word about her disappearance, but so far we just seem to be running into brick walls.”
“Not yet, ma’am, but we’re following every possible lead. Which is why I’m here. I’m looking for a man who was here this morning.” Garrett described the man to her.
“I think I know who you’re talking about. He stopped by for a few minutes to express his condolences to the family.”
“Do you know what his name is?”
She shook her head. “No, I can’t remember, but I can find out for you. I’m keeping a logbook of everyone who comes by. It helps keep things organized, so we know who’s volunteering, who’s brought food, flowers. Just give me a second.”
She came back with a notebook, flipped it open, then tapped her finger on the page. “This has to be him. His name is Jason Fisher. I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I believe he’s a financial adviser who has worked with Nathaniel’s company. He came with some flowers just before you got here. He didn’t stay long, after giving his condolences to the family.”
“Thank you,” Garrett said. “I’ll be in touch.”
Garrett dialed Jordan’s number as he slid into his car. “Hi, Jordan. Where are you?”
“I got delayed, but I’m getting ready to leave the bureau in the next couple minutes to meet our witness. Any luck on your end?”
“I was able to ID the man I saw at the Dillinger house. His name is Jason Fisher.”
“Who is he?”
“Marissa’s aunt wasn’t sure exactly, but she thought he was a business associate of Mr. Dillinger’s. He didn’t stay long. He just came to express his condolences, then left.”
“Give me a second to look him up . . . Okay, I’ve got something. Jason Fisher works for Raynott International Group.”
“What is that?”
“Looks like it’s a financial service company that’s located not too far from here. From the description on their website, he’s a financial analyst who helps clients know when they should buy and sell investments, among other things.”
“Sounds like he fits the profile you gave us. He’s educated, detail-oriented, works well with people. And the financial angle could be our missing connection. He’s got dozens of clients, and over the years he’d come to know them and their families. Though it seems like if he knew their financial situations, he’d be asking them for money.”
“Obviously, it’s not about money for him,” Jordan said. “We’ve always thought it’s about power and control.”
“Before you go interview your witness, get a team looking into this guy. I want to know everything there is about him.”
“I thought he wasn’t a suspect?”
Garrett ignored the comment. “Have them find out if he has connections with any of the other families. And in the meantime, I’m going to call him and ask him to come in.”
“And you think he’ll just agree?”
“I can be very persuasive.”
“Funny,” Jordan said.
“Seriously, I just want to see how he reacts. Then once we get some more information about him, we can see where things go from there. Does the company’s website give you a phone number for him?”
“I’ll send it to you now,” she said. “And by the way, I spoke with Nikki Boyd. She said she ran into you in the parking lot.”
“Did she tell you her theory?”
“Briefly. I told her that I can pull up cases of people impersonating law enforcement, but the problem is that there’s hundreds of them. Still, if she’s right, it makes sense. From a behavioral point of view, it’s a gutsy move to pull off something like this. But you’d be amazed at how effectively it eases people’s suspicions, because they think they’re dealing with a legitimate officer
.”
The thought was terrifying. “Making them willing to get into the car of a serial killer.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, then, I’ll meet you back at the bureau when you’re done with your interview. And in the meantime, I’m going to give Fisher a call.”
After being transferred three times, Garrett finally had Fisher on the line.
“Thanks for taking my call. I’m Special Agent Garrett Addison with TBI’s Criminal Investigation Unit. I’m calling in regards to the disappearance of Marissa Dillinger. I believe you know the family and visited the house earlier today?”
“Marissa Dillinger . . . of course. It’s so horrible that she just vanished, but I’m not sure why you’re calling me?”
Garrett chose his words carefully. “In a missing persons case like this it’s essential to follow every lead, and we’ve discovered that important information can come out when we interview people who knew the family.”
“Of course. I understand, but I was just there offering my condolences to the family. I’m not sure how I could help. I’m an acquaintance of her father, but I’ve never even met their daughter. I just stopped by on behalf of our firm to express our condolences. Dillinger has been a client for years.”
Garrett felt like he was playing a game of chess. Push too hard, the guy would scare. But if he could convince him he was simply a person of interest—like every other person who’d walked into the Dillinger home—that the department was looking for information and nothing more, Fisher might bite.
“Would it be possible for you to come down to the TBI headquarters to answer some basic questions for us?”
“I suppose I could. How long would it take?”
“Shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes.”
There was a pause on the line. “I suppose I could come down. I just had a client cancel an appointment, so I could be there about four thirty.”
Garrett hung up, wondering if he’d gotten sucked into following the wrong lead. There had been no anxiety in Jason Fisher’s voice. No hint that he was nervous. A bit irritated, perhaps, that he had to fit a trip to TBI into his day, but there was nothing that indicated that Fisher might be their serial killer. Of course that was going to be true for whoever had killed the girls. He wasn’t someone who would be tripped up by a mere phone call. He wouldn’t come to the bureau wearing a shirt that said I’m a serial killer. Most serial killers weren’t the dysfunctional loners Hollywood made them out to be.
Maybe it was just a coincidence, but he couldn’t shake the urgency in his gut to follow up on the guy.
His phone rang as he started the engine.
“Garrett . . . hey. It’s Sabrina.”
Garrett stopped. He’d expected Jordan’s voice again. Not his ex-fiancée. “Sabrina. It’s been a long time.”
“I know, and I’m in town, believe it or not. I thought it might be nice to see you. Maybe have dinner together.”
“You know, I’m sorry, but I’m in the middle of a case, and I can’t get away right now, but it’s nice to hear from you.”
“I figured you’d be busy, but I promise I don’t need long. Just ten minutes of your time. Seriously. I won’t keep you. Surely you can give me that much. I need to talk to you about something.”
Garrett glanced at his watch. With Fisher not coming for another hour he had a few minutes, but still, her timing couldn’t be worse. The last thing he wanted to do today was deal with some of Sabrina’s drama.
“Please, Garrett . . . it’s personal.”
Being personal definitely made him want to run the other direction. Which was probably exactly what he should do. Run. Sabrina had always had a knack for trouble, and he didn’t want to get involved.
“Please?”
“Where are you?”
“Not far from your work.” She gave him the address of a hotel. “I can meet you in the restaurant, whenever you have a free minute.”
He let out a sigh. “I can’t stay long, but I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
18
3:40 PM
Vanderbilt University Medical Center
Jordan stepped off the elevator onto the third floor of the hospital, trying to squelch the irritability that had mushroomed since leaving the bureau. Maybe Garrett was right on target to follow his instincts. He had a legitimate—albeit weak—lead. There was a chance it might pan out and this guy he’d seen today was actually the Angel Abductor. But it was a long shot. She felt he was focused on looking in the wrong direction.
But no matter what route she believed the investigation should go, there was something she had to remember. Garrett had been involved with the search for these girls and their abductor for two years, and she knew he’d taken their inability to close the case extremely hard. She couldn’t really blame him for going after every possible lead. Knowing that another girl had been taken was a devastating blow to the investigation. And for Garrett, that blow had been personal.
She walked toward the nurses’ station, engulfed with a sudden feeling of loss as she walked down the hall. She slowed her steps to look into one of the rooms. Several bouquets of flowers sat on a countertop surrounded by a handful of cards. A woman her age sat beside the bed, holding the hand of an elderly woman who was hooked up to an IV and an assortment of monitors. Familiar waves of grief washed over Jordan as she watched the all-too-familiar scene.
She took in a deep breath as she approached the nurses’ station, forcing back the emotion. Something she’d become all too good at doing.
“I’m Special Agent Lambert with the FBI,” she said to the woman going through a stack of files behind the desk. “I was told I could find Gloria Mather here.”
“Of course. I’ll let her know you’re here.” The woman placed a call, then looked back up at Jordan. “She’s on her way.”
A minute later, a petite woman wearing penguin scrubs walked up to the nurses’ station. “You must be the FBI agent I spoke with on the phone. I’ve been so upset ever since I saw the news this morning. I can’t imagine what that family is going through.”
“As you can imagine, they’re having a hard time. You said you saw Marissa Dillinger early this morning?” Jordan held out her phone and showed the woman a photo of Marissa. “Is this the girl you saw?”
“Yes.” Gloria nodded. “That’s definitely her. She was in the vehicle next to me when I stopped at the red light on Blakemore and 21st. I could see her because the streetlight was shining into the car she was in.”
“What time was this?”
“Let’s see.” Gloria gnawed on her lip. “I was on my way home early this morning. I got off late, around twelve thirty, so this was probably about twelve forty-five . . . maybe as late as twelve fifty.”
“Did she look scared or seem as if anything was wrong?”
“No, not particularly. I didn’t notice anything unusual about her behavior at all. She just stared out the window. If I’d thought she was in danger, I would have reported it immediately. I didn’t realize there was another girl missing until I watched the news this morning. But I do remember that she was wearing a bright red sweater, just like the news reported. That’s what made me realize it had to have been her.”
Jordan mentally went through the timeline of Marissa’s disappearance. She’d been snatched around eight thirty from the library parking lot. And now, according to their witness, Marissa had been seen less than ten miles away four hours later. If they could pinpoint the car on city surveillance cameras, they might be able to backtrack where she’d been as well as where she was going.
“And the driver,” Jordan asked. “Did you get a look at him?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Gloria leaned against the counter. “I could only see her from where I was sitting.”
“What about the vehicle she was in. Can you describe it?”
“I’m actually surprised I remember, but it was a gold-colored Honda Accord. My husband and I used to have one, so I recognized the make an
d model. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a license plate number.”
“Anything else you can tell me that might help track them down?”
“I wish there was, but no. Not that I can think of anyway.”
“I appreciate your calling this in.” Jordan handed her a business card. “If you think of something else, please call me.”
“You bet.”
A minute later, Jordan was heading back down the elevator toward the parking garage. As soon as the doors opened, she started to call Garrett, then decided to call Sam instead.
“I think we might finally have a solid lead,” she said, once Sam picked up.
“I hope so, because I need some good news. Couldn’t get anything new from the woman who saw Marissa leave the library, and the library doesn’t have any video surveillance. I feel like we’re moving blind here. All we really have is confirmation on the time she left the library and Nikki Boyd’s interview with the librarian and her theory that we’ve got someone posing as law enforcement.”
“I spoke to the woman who called in about seeing Marissa early this morning,” she said, filling him in on the details.
“That means she could be anywhere at this point, but I’ll make sure her AMBER Alert is updated to include the vehicle and that the information goes out to every law enforcement across the state. Someone has to have seen something.”
“We can only hope.” Jordan walked toward her rental car, her footsteps echoing against the cement floor.
“Have you heard from Garrett?”
Jordan hesitated at the question. “He’s following up on a lead of his own.”
The sound of breaking glass punctuated the quietness of the garage as she turned the corner.
“I need to go.”
Jordan dropped her phone into her pocket, then pulled out her gun, aiming it toward her car, where the noise had come from. There was no sign of anyone, but the back window of her rental car was shattered. Adrenaline surged through her as she walked back toward the car.
“FBI!” she shouted into the dimly lit garage. “Who’s out there?”