Vanishing Point

by Lisa Harris

  The one person those girls had believed they could trust was the person who’d betrayed them.

  “What have you got here?” Sam asked, walking into the room. He stopped midstep in the doorway.

  “We found him,” Garrett said.

  “But we’ve still got a problem.” Jordan stepped over a broken lamp. “Wilcox or Fisher—whatever you want to call him—is dead. He might be the one responsible for the earlier murders, but what about Chloe Middleton? What about Michaels and what just happened here?”

  “Someone else was involved. Maybe someone who blames us for Wilcox’s death?” Garrett threw out.

  He read aloud from an article hanging on one of the boards.

  “‘Memphis police responded to a call that a man had been stabbed in an alley outside a bar early this morning. The unidentified man was pronounced dead at the scene. Eyewitnesses said that the man had been involved in an argument the night before.’”

  “It has to be Rose,” Garrett said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  Jordan stepped up next to him. “And Fisher’s death was the trigger.”

  “Even though it’s been over a year since his death?” Sam asked.

  “What she’s done—bring us all back together—would’ve taken months of planning,” Jordan said.

  “So what’s her end goal?” Sam asked. “Why blame us for her brother’s death?”

  “On the surface it might not make sense,” Jordan said, “but we did some digging back at the bureau into Rose’s history that makes things fit together a bit more. She was adopted when she was two, but her parents were killed in a fire that destroyed the home three years later. After that, she was put in the system. Off and on for the next decade. According to a couple sources, Robert became her protector of sorts.”

  “Two kids lost in the system,” Garrett said. “But while I feel sorry for what they went through, that doesn’t explain why they did what they did. A lot of people go through a lot worse and don’t end up killing innocent children.”

  “Agreed. According to her medical history, though, she had an IQ off the charts. She’d been under psychiatric care for years and had never been stable. And now she’s looking for revenge for her brother’s death.”

  “Even if we had nothing to do with it?”

  “Yes, because it makes sense to her. We were the ones chasing down the Angel Abductor—her brother—all these years. She sat across from us drinking coffee and lied to us about her relationship with her half brother. She had to have known exactly what he had done and had obviously already planned what she was going to do next.” Jordan planted her hands on her hips. “She had to have been the one who killed Marissa as well.”

  “While her brother sat talking with us,” Garrett said. “But why would she agree to talk with us?”

  “Maybe she was looking for information. An attempt to see if she could find anything out.”

  “So what are you saying?” Sam said. “That she killed Chloe Middleton in order to reopen the case, and bring our team back together?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  Sam’s phone rang and he stepped to the other side of the room to answer it.

  “We’ve got to find her,” Garrett said.

  “She might not just be after us,” Sam said a moment later, hanging up his phone. “I need you to call for back up.”

  Jordan and Garrett hurried after him as he rushed toward the front door. “Sam . . . what’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, “but I’ve got to go. That was Irene. She’s at the house alone and someone’s trying to break in. We got cut off, and now I can’t get ahold of her again.”

  28

  5:12 p.m.

  Outside Rose Winter’s home

  Jordan jumped into the passenger seat of Garrett’s car while trying to call her sister, but after a dozen rings there was still no answer.

  “Who are you trying to call?” Garrett asked, as he quickly followed Sam toward his house.

  “My sister and her husband,” Jordan said, this time trying her brother-in-law’s number.

  Nothing.

  “Is she at work?” Garrett asked.

  “I think she went in at three, but the boys should be at home or on their way home with their dad.”

  “I’m sure they’re fine. If Rose is the one behind this, she can’t be everywhere at once, though we can’t even be a hundred percent certain that Irene’s her target.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  His hands gripped the steering wheel. “Honestly, I’m not sure what to believe at this point.”

  Jordan felt a shiver of fear rush through her as she tried calling her sister again. Michaels was dead. Sam’s wife was in danger. It seemed pretty clear that Rose wanted the rest of the team dead, but what if she was planning to go after their families?

  Clara finally picked up on the sixth ring.

  “Jordan?”

  “Clara, where are you?”

  “At work, why? You sound upset.”

  “I just need you to listen before you say anything.” Jordan paused, hoping she wasn’t blowing things out of proportion. “I need you to do something for me. I need you and Alex and the boys to go get Dad and leave town for a day or two. Maybe go to Memphis or Chattanooga. I don’t care where you go, just leave the city until I tell you it’s safe.”

  “Wait a minute, Jordan. Slow down. What are you talking about? I’m in the middle of a shift. I can’t just leave.”

  “I can’t give you details, but you know I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t serious.”

  “I knew this day would come,” Clara said. “This is some kind of terrorist attack, isn’t it? You’re with the FBI, so you know these things in advance.”

  “No . . . it’s not a terrorist attack. Just a case we’re working on where there’s the possibility that they’re targeting my team’s families.”

  There was a long pause on the line. “Wow . . . you’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t be making this call if I wasn’t.”

  “Okay . . . I’ll leave now and go get the boys and Dad.”

  “Clara, call me when you’re out of town. And try not to scare the boys, or Dad, for that matter. Make it an adventure somehow for them. I’ll let you know as soon as the threat is over.” Jordan set down the phone. “Am I overreacting?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “We’ve seen what she’s capable of.”

  “You’re right.”

  “What’s your analysis of her at this point?” Garrett asked, pulling onto the freeway behind Sam. The snow had stopped, but not before leaving a light dusting of white on the edges of the roads.

  “In many ways, she has to be a lot like her brother. She’s precise, smart, and not afraid to take risks.”

  “You think she’s working with someone else?”

  “She might be, but I don’t think so. This is very personal to her. There didn’t appear to be any signs of anyone in the house besides her and Maggie. It also doesn’t seem to me that she’s the kind of person who would trust someone. She didn’t even trust Maggie enough to keep her alive.”

  Ten minutes later, they pulled into the driveway of the two-story house that was located just outside the city limits. Two patrol cars were in the driveway, but while streetlights had already come on, Sam’s house was completely dark.

  Jordan jumped out of the car with Garrett. Sam was just a few seconds ahead of them.

  “The power’s off,” he shouted. “Something’s wrong.”

  “Sam, wait.”

  “I’m not waiting. My wife is in there.”

  “Rose Winters just blew up her house,” Jordan said. “Let Garrett check to make sure the house isn’t rigged, and this isn’t another trap.”

  “Hold it right there.” One of the responding officers shone a flashlight at them.

  Sam held up his badge and introduced them.

  “Sorry about that,�
� the officer said. “We just got here, but it doesn’t look like anyone’s inside.”

  “Search the property,” Sam said to the officers. “We’ll go inside.”

  They walked up onto the front steps. The only light came from a distant streetlight and their flashlights.

  “Give me a second,” Garrett said, studying the door. “It looks clear, but we need to be careful. Watch where you’re walking and stop if you see anything that doesn’t look right.”

  Jordan and Garrett waited for Sam to unlock the front door, then stepped behind him into the dark house. Sam tried turning on a light, to no avail. Jordan shone her light around the living room. The beam caught the recliner and a framed mountain scene hanging above the couch. But no sign of Sam’s wife.

  “Irene?” Panic filled Sam’s voice as he began searching the house. “Irene, are you here?”

  Over forty years of marriage . . . God, don’t let it end like this. Please.

  They cleared the house, room by room, then met up in the kitchen.

  “Her car’s still in the garage,” Sam said. “But she’s not here.”

  “The back door’s not completely shut,” Garrett said, pulling the door open and stepping out onto the back porch. “There’s a chance she got away.”

  “Or that she was taken,” Sam said.

  “We don’t know that,” Garrett said.

  “If Irene was safe, she’d have already called me.”

  “Maybe not.” Jordan’s flashlight beam caught the edge of a cell phone lying in the shadows. “Is this hers?”

  “Yes.” He took it from Jordan and scrolled through her call log. “Her last call was to 911.”

  “Have the officers outside see if they can get the power back on, then search for any signs of a struggle,” Garrett said. “We’ll start canvassing the neighborhood to see if anyone saw something.”

  “Where would she go if she escaped?” Jordan asked Sam.

  “Considering she doesn’t have the car or her phone, I’m guessing to one of the neighbors’.” Sam’s cell phone rang as they headed out the door. “Irene? Irene, where are you?”

  Jordan hurried next to Sam down the driveway as he spoke to his wife.

  “She’s at the neighbors’. Three doors down.”

  Despite being a man on the north side of sixty, Sam was hard to keep up with as they sprinted across the yards.

  Sam burst into the house ahead of Garrett and Jordan and pulled his wife into his arms. “Are you okay?” he panted.

  “I’m still shaking, but I’m okay,” she said, looking up at her husband.

  He reached a hand to the neighbor woman. “Thank you so much for helping.”

  He turned back to Irene, led her to the couch, and sat down beside her. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

  “I’m not sure. I was in the back room, painting, when the power went out. I checked my phone to see if there was a storm coming through that might have messed up the power, but the neighbors’ lights were on. That’s when I heard glass breaking in the front of the house. I grabbed the gun out of our bedroom, called 911, then you. I lost my phone trying to escape.”

  “Did you see the person who broke in?”

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay, sweetheart. The only thing that matters is you’re safe.”

  Jordan’s phone rang and she stepped into the entryway to take the call. “Nikki?”

  “Did you find Irene?”

  “Yeah. She was at a neighbor’s, and she’s okay. No sign, though, of the intruder so far.”

  “So you don’t have proof that the break-in was connected to our abductor?”

  “No, but I think we’re safe in going along with that assumption.”

  “I agree, but we’ve got another problem. There’s another girl missing. Her name’s Kelsey Jacobi. She’s seventeen years old, blonde, and went missing just after Chloe Middleton, but so far there’s been no sign of her.”

  “Is there a connection between the two girls?” Jordan asked.

  “Not that we can find.”

  So now, Rose had very likely taken another girl? One girl was dead. The second they still might be able to save.

  “Why are we just finding out about it now?” Jordan asked.

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Apparently her parents were out of town on an anniversary trip, so no one noticed she was missing until they returned today. Jack and I will run things from here, but I need someone to go speak with Kelsey Jacobi’s family. We need to make finding her a priority. I’m sending each of you the address now.”

  A minute later, Jordan hung up the call, trying to process the news, but all she could think about was another girl was missing.

  “What’s going on?” Garrett asked, stepping into the entryway beside her.

  “There’s another girl missing they believe is connected to Rose,” Jordan said, filling him in on the details.

  “This has got to end.”

  She reached up to rub her neck. “I know.”

  “Is your head hurting?”

  She nodded. “And the explosion didn’t help.”

  “You should have let the paramedics check you out.”

  “I get migraines occasionally, but my doctor has assured me it’s nothing serious. I just need to grab my prescription at my sister’s house. I’ll be fine after that.”

  “Sam and I can meet with the family,” Garrett said.

  “Doesn’t he need to stay with Irene?”

  “He’s just arranged for a friend of his to pick her up. She’ll stay with him and his wife until this is over. He’s retired law enforcement, so she should be safe there,” Garrett said. “I’ll talk to one of the patrol officers about taking you by your sister’s, then you can go on to the bureau. We’ll plan to meet you there.”

  “Garrett, I don’t need an escort—”

  “Forget it. You’re not going by yourself. Not after what’s happened today.”

  Jordan didn’t miss the determination in Garrett’s eyes and decided it wasn’t a battle she wanted to fight. “Fine. I’ll meet you back at the bureau.”

  Twenty minutes later, she asked the officer to wait for her in the car while she ran inside her sister’s house. Clara and her family had already left, having decided to spend the weekend in Gatlinburg. The house was unnaturally quiet, considering it was normally filled with two rambunctious boys. Toys lay scattered around the living room, along with a pile of Wii games and books, and a couple of empty pizza boxes sat on the counter. All signs that they’d left in a hurry.

  But at least she knew they’d be safe until this was over.

  We so need this to end, God.

  She headed down the hall toward the guest room, fighting both the pain of the migraine and the fear of what they were facing. An ever-widening threat with a girl’s life on the line. Michaels dead, and his killer wanting her dead as well. The thought sent an unwanted chill through her.

  She stepped into the guest room, then jumped at a loud screech. Her heart raced as she took a step back and slammed her elbow into the doorframe. She flipped on the bedroom light and looked down at the orange chicken dog chew she’d just stepped on.

  Seriously?

  She was clearly too high-strung. She’d been annoyed at Garrett’s overprotectiveness, and yet here she was jumping out of her skin because of a stupid chew toy. Grabbing the bottle of pills from the nightstand, she turned off the lights and hurried out of the house.

  It was snowing again when Jordan slipped back into the squad car, thankful the heater was running full blast.

  “Did you get what you needed?” the officer asked.

  “I did. And thanks. I appreciate the ride.”

  “No problem.”

  She downed the pill with a gulp from her water bottle, then settled in the seat while the officer headed out of the neighborhood, back toward the bureau. Maybe Garrett’s overprotection wasn’t really what had annoyed her. It was this dance they were playing.
The one they’d played for well over a decade. This constant hello . . . goodbye. They’d been flirting with a relationship since they were rookies. And over the years, whether she’d meant to or not, she’d always ended up comparing other guys to him.

  Because I love him.

  She stared out the window at the passing traffic and the falling snow, surprised by the thought. Seeing Garrett again made her wonder if she should let go of the stubborn pride she’d held on to all these years, call a truce, forge ahead, and give the relationship a try. She wasn’t sure if she could go another decade without resolving the unanswered questions between them.

  But she had no idea how he felt. No idea if he was in a relationship or single. Just because he didn’t have a ring on his finger didn’t mean he hadn’t lost his heart to someone else.

  She’d thought she was finally at a point where she felt satisfied with her life—being single, her relationship with friends and family, her relationship with God. But seeing Garrett made the perfect world she’d created seem incomplete and left her longing for something more. Why was the thought of leaving as soon as this case was over suddenly not an option she wanted to think about?

  The headlights of another vehicle coming at them from the side way too fast jerked her back to the present. The officer laid on the horn, but it was too late. She felt the impact of the other vehicle, heard the grinding crush of metal hitting metal, and then everything went black.

  29

  7:46 p.m.

  TBI Headquarters

  Garrett checked the time as he walked into the bureau. He could smell takeout—Chinese, if he wasn’t mistaken—making him realize he’d missed dinner, but food was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

  The photos of two girls hung next to the timeline they were constructing. Chloe Middleton and Kelsey Jacobi, both tied to this terrifying string of abductions that had spanned well over a decade. The reality of what it must be like for the two girls’ families right now was crushing.

  “What did you find out from Kelsey Jacobi’s family?” Nikki asked.

  “Besides being another grieving family,” Garrett said, “they’re also feeling an enormous amount of guilt because they were out of town and didn’t even realize she was missing until today.”