The Forgotten

by Linda S. Prather

  “We need to get Bruiser to the house. Can you carry him, Jake?” Loki asked.

  Jake handed the binoculars to Wilkes, took off his jacket, and knelt beside Loki. “Might be easier on him if we put him on the coat, then Wilkes and I can carry him between us.”

  Loki helped Bruiser to his feet while Jake spread out his coat. “There you go, boy,” Loki whispered in his ear as she got him to once again lie down. “We’ll have you home in no time, and I’ll fix your leg again.”

  Wilkes scanned the area around them before storing the binoculars in his pocket and coming over to help Jake. “With a high-powered rifle, he could still hit someone from here. From this point on, we exit through the back door.”

  “We know he’s here now. Do you think the director might send in some extra help?” Loki opened the back door to the car and climbed in. “Here, I’ll hold Bruiser until we get to the house.”

  “Doubtful, but I’ll make the call.” Wilkes climbed in behind the wheel and started the car.

  “What about the locals?” Jake asked. “They might be able to lend a hand with some extra surveillance.”

  “Maybe if we’d called them originally, or if we knew more about this guy. He evidently knows the lay of the land. Even if they weren’t so pissed and would agree to help us, if he’s good with a rifle, the more people we have around, the more bodies we may have to carry out.” Wilkes pulled into the driveway and drove slowly toward the house. “Maybe Teresa and Karen found something we can use.”

  “I think Wilkes is right,” Loki said. “I believe he’s desperate now to kill the people he thinks can identify him, and he’ll stop at nothing to get at me and Grace.”

  “If he comes back to the same spot, he’s going to know we were there,” Jake said. “And we know he’s here.”

  “I don’t think he’ll come back to the same spot,” Loki said. “He was probably checking out the farmhouse and counting how many of us there were.”

  “I agree,” Wilkes said. “Starting today we have two people at one of the major points at all times. We’ll switch off every three hours. I’ll get a helicopter flyover tomorrow to make sure there aren’t any other spots accessible from the road that we might have missed. Also, from this point on, nobody goes anywhere alone.” He met Loki’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Especially you or Grace.”

  Jake and Wilkes carried Bruiser into the house and placed him on the living room floor. In minutes, they were surrounded by everyone but Grace.

  “What happened?” Dadron asked.

  “He took off running. His leg wasn’t ready for it yet. I need to get some medicine for him.” Loki went to the kitchen, returning a minute later with her grandfather’s tonic. “This stuff worked wonders when he was first hurt. Let’s hope it does again.” She knelt and fed him a tablespoon.

  He laid his head on his paws and closed his eyes.

  “Let’s all go into the kitchen,” Wilkes said. “I don’t want Grace to overhear this.”

  He waited until they were all seated and filled them in on what they’d found. “How about the names? Any luck there?”

  Karen nodded. “A Rebecca Pell was taken from Jersey City about three years before Donna Graves went missing ten years ago.”

  “So if our theory is correct, then we should have a Robert Grayson out there somewhere at one of those nursing homes,” Loki said.

  Jake leaned against the counter. “Which also means he should be going by Dillon now. What was the name of that sergeant in Alabama?”

  “Almond,” Teresa said, pulling out her cell phone. “I’ll give him a call and see if Dillon has sprung up in his investigations. We were going to check the property records, but the computer was down when we got there.”

  “And I’ll call a friend at the Bureau and see if he can run a search for any bank accounts or credit cards in their name.” Karen grabbed her cell and followed Teresa into the living room.

  “While they’re doing that”—Wilkes pulled out a pen and pad—“we need to set up our surveillance schedule. It’s cold outside, so two at a time with a shift change every three hours.”

  “Thanks, Sergeant Almond.” Teresa ended her call and stepped into the kitchen. “The house was owned by a Robert and Harriett Dillon.”

  Karen followed close on her heels and sighed. “My friend said he’d get back to me if he finds anything. He said the director is livid and has been screaming all day.”

  “Have we got a thermos, Loki?” Jake asked.

  “Under the sink.”

  “I’ll take first watch with Dadron.”

  Wilkes nodded and wrote down the time. “Teresa and I will take second watch.”

  “Jules and I can take third,” Loki said.

  “Hey, don’t bloody leave me out.” Karen pouted. “I may not be a ‘special’ agent yet, but I’m still an agent.”

  “You can take fourth watch with Jake. That gives us an extra rotation for one of us each time.”

  “Let’s throw together some sandwiches. You can either eat before you go or take them with you for later.” Loki rose, went to the refrigerator, and took out a tray of lunch meat. “One of us may have to make a grocery run tomorrow.”

  “We’ll do it now,” Wilkes said. “We need some extra shells.”

  “And a bottle of bourbon.” Teresa grinned. “Maybe it will drown out Dadron’s snores tonight.”

  “Loki, if you can make out a list, Karen and I will make a quick run before it gets dark.” Wilkes turned to stare at the map. “We may have to hole up for a few days, so make sure you get everything you need.”

  Loki rummaged through a drawer until she found a pen and paper. She made quick notes, mentally running through things she thought they might need. “I’ve put some things on here for Grace and the baby too. Plus some baby aspirin.”

  Wilkes took the list and nodded to Karen. “Let’s get started.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Karen buckled her seat belt and sighed. This was the worst case she’d been on since joining the Bureau six years ago. And she’d broken one of the first rules, don’t get involved with the victims. It’s a stupid rule, anyway. How can you not get involved with the victims?

  “Does Teresa have a drinking problem?”

  Karen avoided his searching look and stared out the window. “No, sir. She does have trouble sleeping, though, and sometimes a nip helps her through the night.”

  “Keep an eye on it, will you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Wilkes grunted. “You don’t have to do the yes-sir-no-sir thing with me, Karen. We’re a team, and as far as I’m concerned, all team members are equals.”

  “Wish the bloody director felt that way.” Karen squirmed in the seat, looking for a comfortable position.

  “He has political interests. That’s why he ordered us to Alabama when the Frances girl was killed. He considers men like the girl’s father to be future donors to his campaign fund.”

  “At the cost of his agents and the victims? He’s a bloody piece of shit, if you ask me.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about him. I think his ambitions are short lived,” Wilkes said.

  Karen chewed on her bottom lip as the question she knew they were all tiptoeing around kept popping into her thoughts. “Have you heard anything about Rosetta?”

  “Catherine is working on it, and Scott, another member of my team, is due to head home tomorrow. They’ll find her.”

  “We could use her on this one. It took me two hours to find the information she could have clicked a button and found,” Karen grumbled. “I don’t understand why the director isn’t putting more people on the case.”

  “Too many cases and not enough agents. Budget cuts.” He shrugged. “You know how the director feels about my team. We’re low on his priority scale.”

  “You’re a lot more forgiving than I would be, Wilkes. I don’t know how you can even stay here. If it were my loved one, I’d already be gone.”

  Wilkes pa
rked in front of the supermarket. “Rosetta and I came to terms with this a long time ago. She made the choice for me. You’ve drawn some future possibilities, Karen. You know it’s sometimes just the way it has to be, and some things can’t be changed no matter how hard we pray.” He handed her the list. “I’m going to run down to the local gun shop and grab a few things. I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes.”

  She watched him drive away, her heart filled with sympathy for Rosetta. She’d drawn possibilities, yes, but nothing like the things he drew. They all had their secret sorrows, their own nightmares, but Wilkes was a man with a weight on his shoulders that most men couldn’t carry. Eventually it was going to kill him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  “You’re not eating, sweetheart.”

  Robert smiled at her across the table. “Not hungry tonight, Mother.” His stomach churned again as she sliced into the half-raw steak and took a bite.

  “I like your plan, and I think it will work.” She wiped her bloody mouth on the napkin. “But I’m going with you. I get the girl.”

  It was pointless to argue with her. Once she set her mind to an action, no amount of pleading or begging would change it. “Of course you do, Mother. She hurt you. She needs to be taught a lesson.”

  She smiled and chewed the raw meat, a tiny stream of blood running down her chin. “No place in the world for girls like her. All the future holds for them is grunting men on top of them, and pain.”

  The dream came back to haunt him, and he toyed with his salad. As far back as he could remember, there had been no one but him and Mother. “Did I ever have a sister, Mother?”

  She stopped chewing, her eyes staring into the distance. “I had a little girl once.”

  “What happened to her?”

  She glared at him. “She died. Your father killed her and told me to forget her, so I did. She was different, and when you’re different, there’s no place in this world for you. That’s why you’ve got to kill them.”

  The hatred glaring out at him wasn’t new. He’d experienced it many times over the years. It was part of the madness that ran through her veins. Part of the killing rage with young girls. He was beginning to understand her. It hadn’t been important before, but now with the danger facing them in the days to come, he felt the need to understand her. Maybe if he understood her, he’d eventually learn to understand himself and the changes he’d felt when he stopped taking the pills.

  “Was she older or younger than me?”

  She shoved her plate away, leaped up, and knocked over the chair. “I’m not talking about this, Robert.” She paced the room, wringing her hands.

  If I don’t calm her down, I’ll have to spend the night watching her and making sure she doesn’t leave her room. We can’t afford another dead body at the moment. Robert lowered his voice to the right amount of contrition. “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  She came to him, held his face in her hands, and kissed him on the lips. “We don’t need anyone else, Robert. It’s you and me, right?”

  He pulled her onto his lap and laid her head on his shoulder. “Of course, Mother. It’s always been you and me.”

  She pushed away and kissed him again. “We’ll find all of them, darling. The poor lonely souls that need to be forgotten, and we’ll kill them all, won’t we?”

  He sighed and gently patted her back. “As many as you want, Mother.”

  Robert sat in the cheap motel armchair and watched her sleep. She’d calmed, but there was still the chance she’d wake up and go out. He had to protect her from herself.

  He leaned back and propped his feet on the edge of the bed. There had been other dreams of the little girl. Ones he’d been afraid to ask her about. And today was the first time Mother had ever mentioned his father. She’d gone on a killing spree the one time Robert had asked about him, one that had taken him days to clean up and had resulted in them having to move quickly. Maybe he should forget it, as she had. His eyelids felt heavy, and he struggled against sleep. The thought he’d had a sister intrigued him. And it explained the dreams.

  He dropped his feet to the floor, placed his elbows on his knees, and lowered his head to his hands. He needed an explanation for the man’s reaction to the little girl. Most fathers, like Frances, loved their daughters and doted on them. Is Roberta my sister? Is that why I keep having the dream?

  He stood and started to pace between her room and his. Memories he’d tried to forget kept flooding in. The little girl was playing in her room, her favorite dolls on the floor beside her. Father had come in, his face red with rage as he took them all and stomped them, until there was nothing left but broken legs and arms. Mother had stood behind him, begging him to stop. And then he’d said something, something Robert struggled now to remember but couldn’t.

  His head began to throb. It was the dog’s fault. If the dog had left her alone, she’d still be here, and maybe Mother wouldn’t be so crazy. He had to kill the dog. He cackled hysterically. He would kill all the damn dogs in the world.

  ~ ~ ~

  “I think we’re wasting our time tonight.” Jake rubbed his hands together and stared longingly at the now empty thermos.

  Dadron took a bite of sandwich and nodded. “Wilkes might be good with city criminals, but this guy’s mind don’t work that way.”

  “Oh, and how does a country criminal’s mind work?” Jake chuckled. “In my experience, they’re all pretty much the same.”

  “You ever go hunting, Jake?”

  Jake lifted the binoculars and scanned the area again. “No. I don’t like killing animals.”

  “A good hunter don’t go traipsing through the woods looking for his prey. He waits until it comes to him.” Dadron took another bite of sandwich and washed it down with a beer. “Might take hours, or days, but he doesn’t move around much. Just sits, patiently waiting.”

  “We’re not letting Loki or Grace out of the house by themselves. He’s going to have a hell of a long wait.”

  Dadron shrugged. “Loki’s pulling a shift later tonight.” He waved his hands around them. “We’re all sitting ducks out here in the open if he’s looking for us. All he has to do is wait.”

  Jake had the uncomfortable feeling of someone watching him and cursed under his breath. “Damn it, Dadron, it’s cold, wet, and now you’ve got me paranoid.”

  Dadron chuckled. “He’s not here yet.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you’ve been drinking hot coffee ever since we got here, and if he was, he’d have seen the steam rising from it and put a bullet into you.”

  Jake stared at the cup in his hand. “Why the hell didn’t you say something?”

  Dadron chuckled again. “Because he’s not here yet.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Loki placed her hand on Grace’s forehead. Her eyes opened, and Loki smiled at her. “Your fever is gone. Feel like getting up for something to eat, or want me to bring you something?”

  “I’d love to get up, if you don’t mind.” Grace tossed off the covers and sat up slowly. “I miss Hope.”

  “She’s asleep at the moment. Do you need some help getting dressed?”

  “No, I can do it.”

  “I’ll go heat up some soup for you.” Loki turned toward the door.

  “Loki?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it wrong for me to love Hope so much when he fathered her?”

  The voice was sad, weak, and confused. Loki sat down beside her on the bed. “Hope is going to grow up loved and healthy. She doesn’t ever have to know about her father. And no, it isn’t wrong for you to love her so much. She’s a part of you too.”

  “But what if, as she gets older, I have problems like Wilkes said, and I see him in her and I hate her? I don’t want to hate her.”

  “I don’t think you could ever hate Hope, Grace. When this is all over, we’ll see about getting some counseling to help you cope with what these monsters did to you. None of t
his was your fault.”

  Grace dressed quickly. “Is it wrong to kill someone?”

  Loki rolled the question around in her head before formulating an answer. “In some situations it is, in others it isn’t. If you’re protecting someone you love from something horrible happening to them, and the only way you can do that is to kill someone, then you don’t have a choice.”

  “I don’t think Husband killed any of his wives. I think Mother killed them all.”

  “How did he treat you? Did he hit you or yell at you?”

  Grace shook her head. “He came to my room at night and did what husbands do, but I don’t think he liked it. Once I got pregnant, he left me alone. Even after Hope was born, he left me alone.”

  “How did he treat Mother?”

  “He was always nice to her. Sometimes when they thought I was sleeping, I would hear them talking and laughing. I think they even danced together sometimes. He liked to see her happy.”

  Loki thought about all the red markers on the map. “Did you ever see him hurt an animal?”

  Grace tucked her chin into her chest, her upper torso tightening as she linked her fingers together in her lap. “He hates them. Especially dogs. One came near the cabin one night, and I heard it later. I don’t know what he did to it, but he hurt it.”

  The thought of what some poor unsuspecting dog had endured at the hands of that madman made Loki sick to her stomach. “I’ll go warm up some soup for you.”

  Grace continued as if Loki hadn’t said anything. “I heard Mother yelling at him one night. He was crying, and she was angry because he hadn’t taken his medicine.”

  “Do you know what kind of medicine?” Loki asked, excitement coursing through her. If he was on a special medication, pharmacies would have a record of it.

  “No. I know when he doesn’t take it, he has bad dreams, and Mother gets angry.” Grace slipped on her shoes. “I want to see Hope now.”

  Loki poured chicken broth into a pan and filled it with vegetables, adding in a teaspoon of Grandpa’s tonic. She could tell Grace was feeling better, but she was still weak. She would need to be strong in the days to come, both physically and mentally. Loki glanced out the window, anxious to share what Grace had told her with someone. Teresa and Jules were both sleeping, preparing for the night ahead. Wilkes and Karen hadn’t returned from the store yet, and Jake and Dadron were still somewhere on the ridge.