Garage Sale Stalker (Garage Sale Mysteries)

by Weinert, Suzi

  Following the grizzly finger amputation, Mathis disappeared for enough days that Ruger’s heart sank, fearing him gone forever. The specter of enduring his mother’s madness alone frightened Ruger almost as much as losing the brother who was his only companion.

  However, no treatment at their mother’s hands compared to the bitter nighttime horror two weeks later when a power outage silenced alarms after bed call at the mental institution where Tobias Yates was committed. Taking advantage of this unlikely event for a crazed escape, he hitch-hiked and walked to the farm, where he brutalized his wife and sons for an hour before forcing them outside the house, grabbing a shovel and bludgeoning Mathis to the ground before their eyes.

  “Now I’m rid of you at last, you damn parasite,” he screamed as the shovel thudded against the boy again and again.

  While Ruger and his mother gaped in terror, Tobias forced them both to dig a hole three feet deep, enough for a simple grave. He dumped the child’s still body into the yawning trough, where the small inert shape curled piteously at the bottom.

  As Tobias flung the first shovelfuls of dirt onto the child’s body, the sound of faraway sirens momentarily wrested the madman from his murderous rage. Either they were coming for him or soon would if he didn’t return. He stood up, peering through the dark night toward the sound, knowing he had to leave quickly.

  He threw down the shovel and turned menacingly toward his two wretched, unwitting accomplices. “Vow to me that you will never reveal to anyone what happened here tonight or I will return to tear you both into a hundred bloody pieces,” the insane man thundered at his terrified wife and son. So acute was their fear that neither Ruger nor his mother ever spoke of this night the rest of their lives.

  “You get back into the damn house right now, but tomorrow you come out here and fill in this garbage hole.” He gestured toward Mathis’ grave.

  Scrambling to obey, Ruger and his mother made a desperate dash for the doorway, moving too purposefully to notice their tormentor disappear into the black night.

  Tobias Yates reversed the hitch-hike process, returning undetected to his bed at the institution. While aware this confluence of events would never happen again, he took twisted satisfaction in knowing that the two left at the farm would live in perpetual terror of his unexpected return to deliver the promised savage revenge.

  ***

  Now years later, the adult Ruger awoke shaking from this vivid nightmare reliving his childhood memory of Mathis’ murder. He stumbled from bed, ran down the hall, out the kitchen door and into the frosty night air. He stared toward the very spot beside the house where the horror unfolded so many years before. Was he losing his mind or did that atrocity really happen?

  Stars filled the cold winter night sky and a tree-top high full moon spilled light across the dark gravel driveway. Its pale glow illuminated the small mound near the side of the house, atop which Ruger’s mother had plunged a crudely-made cross she crafted the day after the murder. Tonight that cross cast an eerie elongated shadow over the moonlit grave, confirming the reality of Ruger’s haunting memory.

  Choking and panting for breath, he stood outside in the raw February night while the icy temperature numbed his trembling body.

  He’d underestimated the impact of returning to this house. These childhood memories had ignited smoldering embers, fanning a primal urge for the explosive release of action, a fiery wave powerful enough to pulse his violent side squarely into the driver’s seat.

  By the time he reentered the kitchen, the numbness from the outdoor’s frosty temperature was replaced by raw rage.

  CHAPTER 21

  The Present

  Jennifer and Jason dozed in bed, half-watching TV, when the bedside telephone’s ring jolted them fully awake.

  Jason grappled for the handset and mumbled sleepily into the mouthpiece, “Hello.”

  “This is Denise MacKenzie, Tina’s Mom. I’m sorry to bother you this late, Jason, but is... is Tina still over at your house?”

  “Hello, Denise. Gee, I don’t know. Let me find out. Hang on.” He handed the phone to Jennifer, climbed out of bed and padded down the hall toward Becca’s room.

  Covering the mouthpiece, Jennifer called to her husband, “Ask Becca if she feels any better and she’s stopped upchucking.” Then into the phone, she said, “Denise? What’s doing?”

  “Tina isn’t home yet and it’s late and I’m a little worried.”

  “Oh?” Jennifer hoped to calm her friend despite vivid memories of her own hand-wringing sessions when a “missing” child of her own was quickly found.

  “This isn’t like Tina,” Denise continued. “Since Scott passed away, we…Tina and I agreed that if we’re not home by 10 p.m. weeknights or midnight on weekends we’d phone each other to check in. We’ve shared a lot of worries lately and that seemed a reasonable way to avoid more. “She’s been really good about it, but she is only nineteen. I guess she could forget, although she never has. Maybe there has to be a first time?”

  “She may still be with Becca, who’s got some awful flu bug. Tina kept her company this evening, like the good friend she is. Jason’s checking right now.” Jennifer studied the bedside clock. “So, it’s only 45 minutes since she should have phoned at ten?”

  “Yes. That may not seem like much, but Tina’s so dependable. This just isn’t like her.”

  Jason shuffled into the bedroom, yawned and took the phone from Jennifer. “She’s not here, Denise. Becca says she left around 9:30.That’s…” he checked the clock, “…just a bit over an hour ago.”

  “But it only takes ten minutes to drive here from your house. Even if she stopped for an errand on the way home, what could take so long?”

  “She’ll probably be home any minute or phone you to say where she is. Call us tonight when she gets back and try not to worry in the meantime.” He hung up the phone and climbed wearily back into bed.

  “Is Becca feeling any better?” Jennifer asked.

  “No,” he mumbled, “but maybe a night ’s sleep will make the difference…” His sentence ended in a shallow snore.

  ***

  They were sleeping soundly when the phone rang next, shattering the bedroom’s nighttime quiet. Looking at the clock as he fumbled for the receiver, Jason read midnight. Tina must be home.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “It’s Denise,” she said, her voice so ragged that even before she spoke, Jason sensed bad news.

  “I’m so sorry to bother you again, especially this late, but she isn’t back yet and she’s never done this before. I’m so worried! I’ve called her cell phone dozens of times but nobody answers. I’ve left message after message on voicemail. If Scott were here he’d know what to do next. Should I call hospitals? Should I call the police?”

  Jason sat up, wide awake now. “Have you called her other friends?”

  “She doesn’t have a lot of friends; you know she’s kind of shy. But yes, I’ve called several… without results.”

  “There’s probably a good explanation, Denise, but naturally you’re upset until you find it. Look, we know somebody at the police department. I’ll run this past him and call you right back. Do you know her car’s license plate number?” Denise did.

  As Jason hung up the phone, Jennifer mumbled into her pillow, “Tina’s not back yet?”

  “No, and Denise is a basket case. Do you have Adam’s phone number?” She sat up, “Yes, downstairs. Should we ask Becca again what Tina planned when she left?”

  “I hate to wake her up a second time this late when she’s sick unless it’s really necessary, and I asked her that earlier when Denise first called. Becca said Tina headed home at 9:30.”

  Jennifer climbed out of bed. “Okay, I’ll get the Rolodex. Poor Denise!” She hustled toward the stairs.

  Phoning Adam at home a few minutes later, Jason apologized for the hour and bothering him off-duty before outlining the situation and giving him Tina’s license number.

  “I’ll f
ind out if she’s listed as a traffic accident or if her car’s stolen. We need a missing person report to put out a BOLO on her vehicle and we’ll want to talk with whoever saw her last.”

  “Thank you, Adam,” Jason said, “Understandably, her mother is extremely upset. And as you know, she’s Becca’s best friend, so we’re involved in this by default.”

  “I understand, Sir. Back to you soon!”

  Seven minutes later, Jason snatched up the ringing phone. Adam said, “Sir, our contacts are pretty good so I tapped into recent traffic and emergency medical situations. Tina’s name shows on none of them. These situations usually seem worse than they are once we learn what actually happened. She could even be asleep in her car. Believe me, that ’s not uncommon!”

  “So, what’s next?”

  “Tina’s mother can report her daughter missing. If so, we like a recent photo and need to get other facts. That way, besides giving us the information, the mother feels like part of the solution. And we can try to find her daughter’s car. What’s her name and address?”

  Jason read off everything on the Rolodex card Jennifer handed him. “I want to remind you that the mother’s already pretty fragile. Her husband died a couple of months ago, and now she’s frantic about losing her daughter, too. We’re ready to go over there to be with her if necessary.”

  “There are two ways to do this,” Adam explained. “We can send a patrolman to her house to get the information we need or she can go to the Balls Hill Road sub-station to do the same thing. Which is better?”

  After conferring with Jennifer, Jason answered, “She should make that choice. We’ll find out and call you right back.”

  He handed the phone to Jennifer, “Your turn,” he said. She dialed Denise.

  “The good news is that she’s not in an accident or a hospital,” Jennifer began before explaining the other choices.

  Hearing them, Denise said promptly, “I’d rather go there. Our house is a safe harbor now, our comfort zone, our neutral zone. I’ll go there.”

  “Okay then, why don’t we come by for you and all go to the station together?”

  “Oh, yes, if you don’t mind, I’d... I’d really appreciate that. I can be ready in ten minutes.”

  “Make that twenty because we’re still in our pajamas. Can you bring a recent photo of Tina?”

  “Yes, but does that mean they think she’s in trouble?”

  “They just need to see who they’re looking for.”

  “Okay, and Jennifer... thanks,” Denise finished.

  Next Jason phoned Adam, relaying this latest. “Sorry to call you at home again. Will we see you at the station or are you off duty.”

  “I’m off, but I’m a phone call away if you need me. I’ll let them know you’re coming and who you are. You’ll have a good reception, even at this hour.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Jason drove while Jennifer sat in the back seat, holding Denise’s hand to reassure her. They parked at the police station, went inside and gave their names at the reception window.

  “Oh, yes, Detective Gibbs is expecting you. Just a moment,” he spoke into his intercom from behind the protective glass.

  Almost immediately a beefy detective with graying hair and a business-like smile entered the waiting room. Introducing himself, he invited them into his offce.

  Once seated there, Gibbs asked them to repeat what they knew about Tina’s disappearance. Besides the when-and-where details, all three emphasized that irresponsible behavior was entirely uncharacteristic of Tina.

  “Was she upset, depressed, angry at anyone, afraid of anyone?”

  “Not at all,” Denise answered. “I’ve wracked my brain for any kind of explanation.”

  “Does she have brothers or sisters?” Gibbs asked.

  “No, she’s an only child so she’s always acted more like an adult. Now at 19 she is an adult.”

  “What about school?”

  “Good student. Excellent grades. This just makes no sense unless she’s in trouble and needs help. We’re… both still grieving over my husband’s recent death. After Scott got so sick and then died, it’s the two of us left, just Tina and me, taking care of each other.” At this, Denise gave a convulsive sob and tears rolled down her face.

  Gibbs made a mental note. Needy, grieving, possessive mother leaning too heavily on likewise grieving daughter; maybe driving her away? Perhaps, but he needed to know more. “So no other emotional or psychological reason you can think of to explain her failing to phone you tonight? No school problems, no boyfriend problems?” Gibbs probed.

  “No,” sniffed Denise.

  “Excuse me,” Gibbs stood, “while I put out a BOLO on her car and then we’ll continue. Meantime, please fill out these papers. May I have her Virginia plate number again?”

  “BOLO?” Denise asked.

  “Be-On-Look-Out,” Gibbs explained, handing Denise a pen and taking Tina’s license information with him as he left the room.

  Denise bent over the papers spread before her on the table and dutifully began writing answers to the many questions, while Jennifer and Jason exchanged tired looks.

  Returning, Gibbs began, “Experience suggests we have two possibilities: she hasn’t called you because she won’t or because she can’t.”

  Denise gave a small gasp and clutched her hands together in her lap.

  “We all know that young people can forget tasks like calling home because they’re easily distracted, forgetful and not yet very responsible. Sometimes it’s on purpose… to get attention, or to punish their parents for a real or imagined slight… or for other personal reasons that make sense only to them. They might magnify small issues. They might run away from home to make a point. From what you tell me, this doesn’t sound like Tina, but we can’t be sure. In cases like this,” Gibbs continued, “time is our friend and time is our enemy.”

  Gibbs’ audience exchanged puzzled looks until Jason asked, “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “Time is our friend because a child who forgot to call does or he turns up fast with an explanation or the one who’s punishing his parents relents or the one who runs away gets in touch. Many situations like this resolve in a couple of hours and most in a couple of days.”

  “What about ‘time is our enemy’?” Jennifer asked.

  “If she’s not calling voluntarily, then we consider involuntary possibilities. If she’s been abducted, time is our enemy because the trail gets colder every minute. You’ve heard of the Amber Alert for missing children? That’s activated the moment we learn a small child is gone.”

  Denise jumped to her feet, “But my child is missing and every minute may count right now.”

  “Ma’am, I understand your concern, but your daughter is nineteen. Amber Alert is only for children below the age of consent.”

  “Consent! Do you think she consented to being kidnapped? Why can’t you use the same tool for a missing nineteen-year-old in the same situation as a young child?” Denise wailed.

  Gibbs pressed his temple with the fingers of one hand. “Ma’am, try to calm down. We know you’re upset and we’re trying to help you as fast as we can and…” he made himself say, “…you asked a good question. Here at the police department, laws govern our procedures and eighteen-year-olds are legal adults, free to come and go as they wish; a totally different category than a minor child without experience, judgment or free will. So let’s put Amber Alert completely aside for the moment. We want to help you find your daughter and will use our considerable skills to make that happen. You can help by quickly filling out these forms with important routine information to help focus our search.”

  “Our daughter, Becca, is best friends with Tina. She’s at home now with a bad case of the flu but she’s the last person we know was with Tina before she disappeared. They both watched TV at our house until about 9:30 p.m., when Tina said she was heading home,” Jason volunteered.

  Gibbs made some notes and turned to Denise. “Thank you fo
r bringing her picture; that helps a lot. Does she have a boyfriend or a boyfriend wannabe?”

  “No! Well, I mean, not that I know of. She never mentioned one and she didn’t bring one home.” Denise turned to the Shannons. “Do you know anything about a boyfriend or has Becca mentioned Tina having one? Did they ever double date?”

  Jennifer knew too well that parents didn’t always know what their “little darlings” were up to but their friends probably would. “Becca might be able to answer that,” she told Gibbs.

  “Besides a list of all her friends,” Gibbs continued, “we’d like to know more about her state of mind that last day. Was she working on any projects that might lead us to others to interview? Someone might know something helpful. We need to know if she had a job so we can talk with her co-workers. You’re nodding ‘no’ about a job. Okay, any hobbies or activities she’s involved in, any meetings she attends?”

  “She is just a lovely person… a decent, private person,” Denise said, tears misting her eyes again.

  Gibbs nodded. “And maybe my questions sound like invasion of that privacy, but the more we know about her, the better our chance of finding her. Why don’t you take a deep breath and start telling me about her and I’ll ask some questions along the way?” To the Shannons he said, “Would you two mind taking a seat outside while Mrs. MacKenzie and I talk together?”

  “We don’t mind at all,” Jennifer said and they closed the door behind them.

  Ten minutes later, Gibbs invited them all back to his offce. His phone rang as they sat down and he answered, “Okay, when? Where? Any sign of...,” looking at the anxious trio who sat across from his desk, he didn’t finish that sentence but listened carefully to the answer. “Any prints? Any leads? Good! Search the immediate area and bring it in for full forensics.”