Facing Evil

by C L Hart

  Rocking back and forth, Abby held on to her dear departed pet. The blood from his broken, battered body matted his thick fur, but she was oblivious to it. Her Buck was gone, cruelly taken by a sadistic madman, though she didn’t want to think about him now. She didn’t want to think about what he might have already done to Sarah, or where he might have left her bloody and broken body.

  “I’m sorry, Buck, I’m so sorry,” Abby sobbed into his fur. Buck had been there for her — a faithful companion whose life had revolved around his owner. Like a shadow, he had always been with her, lying at her feet as she read a book, or walking by her side as she hiked the many canyon trails. Buck had been her lifeline when the job had pulled her down into the bowels of Hell. Without condition, he had been there, and she had thought he always would be.

  Lincoln had no idea what to say to his grieving partner, so he knelt down next to her and placed a caring hand on her back.

  “I...I gotta take him home, Linc.” Abby voice was almost childlike as she continued to rock back and forth. “I need to take my big boy home. We’ll find a place and put him to rest, somewhere in the sun.” She struggled to stand under the weight of the massive dog, but when Lincoln offered to help, she refused.

  He went back and got the car and followed slowly behind her as she walked down the driveway one last time with her dog. Abby sat under a cedar tree with Buck still in her arms. Her eyes were closed as she rested her head against the trunk of the tree. Keeping one eye on his partner and one on the job at hand, Lincoln quickly dug a grave. Carefully, Abby laid her faithful companion into the ground, spoke a few silent words, and then said goodbye before she covered him up.

  Rest in peace, my big boy, rest in peace.

  Chapter 15

  The lieutenant was in mid sentence with Assistant District Attorney Ronald de Barr when she heard the heightened buzz of her squad room suddenly silenced. Banks knew Abby had returned. She was about to excuse herself from the ADA, when the dark-haired detective sat down at her desk. No one said a word to her as she pulled out a pad and picked up her phone; they were too taken aback by her disheveled appearance and her solemn demeanor.

  “Excuse me,” Lieutenant Banks said as she stepped to the doorway and called Abby and Lincoln. The two detectives reported to her office and Lincoln closed the door behind them.

  Banks looked at her detectives, trying to think of something to say; no words seemed appropriate. “Abby, I’m sorry. I am truly sorry.”

  Abby looked at her boss. “Not half as sorry as I am.” Her words were so empty and lifeless that Lieutenant Banks was taken off guard.

  “Look, you know as well as I do, we have nothing to hold him on,” Assistant DA de Barr said as he clicked his briefcase shut.

  “What about what he did to my dog?” Abby asked calmly as she leaned back against the window frame, her arms crossed.

  “Like he said, it was an accident. He’s smart, Detective. Smart enough to know the difference between what we know and what we can prove. I’ve gone over everything that you have on him, and there is nothing there.”

  “That’s just great. We bust our butts to find him, we know he killed Abby’s dog and we know that he was the last one to see Sarah, and you have the balls to stand there and tell us there is nothing you can do?” Lincoln towered over de Barr, but the DA didn’t blink.

  “Detective Quinn, that’s enough,” Lieutenant Banks ordered.

  Looking to his commander, Lincoln put himself in check. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I remember something about twenty-four hours, right? Then let’s keep him here, and maybe we can find something to charge him with.”

  “That is pretty weak, Detective.” de Barr turned to Lieutenant Banks. “Mary, I’ll shuffle papers the best I can, but when he screams for his lawyer, we’re done.”

  “Fine, Ronny.” She hated it when he used her first name.

  “On another note, I was under the impression that she was on leave.” He turned to look at Abby, but she refused to acknowledge him.

  “Detective Stanfield is back, under my supervision.”

  “I wasn’t aware that you had that authority, Mary,” de Barr said.

  “I’ll deal with the Brass. You deal with finding something to charge Ward with.”

  “All right, but keep her away from him. We have enough law suits to deal with. Understood?”

  “You do your job and I’ll do mine. Now excuse us, we all have work to do.”

  “Fine.” With a wave of his hand, the diminutive DA was gone.

  “All right,” she turned to her two detectives, “we have...sixteen hours. Let’s find something.” Lincoln and Abby nodded and moved toward the door. “A moment please, Abby.” The detective stopped. “Abby, I can’t imagine what you are feeling right now—”

  “You’re right, you can’t.”

  She turned to face Lieutenant Banks and her boss saw the telltale pain in her eyes. Banks reached up and put a hand on Abby’s shoulder. “We will find Sarah.”

  “I hope for his sake that we do.” Abby started to leave, but the lieutenant stopped her.

  “Abby, take a minute, go and wash up, change your clothes and get a fresh perspective...please.”

  Abby hesitated, but then nodded and walked out the door and out of the squad room. The next time Banks looked out, Abby had cleaned up and was sitting at her desk. Her clothes were clean, her hair was in a ponytail through her hat, her eyes on a notepad and her ear was to a phone.

  ♥

  It took time, but slowly they started to put bits and pieces together. Only after several calls to Abby’s cell phone company, did a supervisor finally admit that yes, their phones could easily be reprogrammed. After a careful explanation of obstruction charges, the supervisor finally agreed to do some background checking on the calls made to and from Abby’s real cell phone as well as the phone she was now in possession of. Oblivious to their surroundings, Abby and Lincoln were engrossed in their work when another detective dropped off a fax on Lincoln’s desk.

  “What’s that?” Abby asked.

  “The printout of Billy’s credit card,” Lincoln said slowly as he glanced over the paper.

  Abby watched and waited, noticing his eyes flicker on something. “What?” Lincoln reached under his desk and pulled out a phone book. “What?” Abby asked impatiently again. “What’s on it?”

  “Walt’s Floral,” he said as he found the number and reached for his phone. Abby sat up straighter in her desk as she waited. Lincoln asked for a manager, identified himself, and then asked about a purchase made three days earlier. “They’re looking it up,” he said to his partner.

  “What else is on there?” She put her hand out for the fax, then quickly scanned the few purchases Billy had made on his credit card. There appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary, until she flipped over the page. There, printed clearly on the top of the page, was a name she recognized: Flanagan’s General Store. Getting the phone number, Abby dialed and waited. One ring...two rings...three...

  “Fla-Flanagan’s,” the familiar voice stuttered.

  “Sean, it’s Abby Stanfield.”

  “Hi, A-Abby.”

  “Sean, do you remember a while back I purchased a postcard with the Gold Creek Lodge on the front of it?”

  “Yes, m-ma’am, that’s one of my f-favorites. We s-sell a l-lot of them.”

  “Yes, I know, Sean, but what I want you to try to recall is someone else who bought one a while ago and then came back into the store about three days ago. Do you remember anyone like that?”

  “Hmmm, n-not r-really.”

  Abby could hear the true regret in his voice. “It looks like he purchased a few things, and then put it on a credit card. He’s a short man... 5’5”, dark hair.” When there seemed to be no recognition, she made one last suggestion that she didn’t want to. “He may have been with that friend of mine — Sarah.”

  “Oh, wait. I-I recall n-now. He was w-wearing a b-baseball hat.”

  “
Yes, Sean. That sounds like him. What else do you remember?” It took everything she had to hide the emotions tearing her up inside.

  “I r-remember Sarah, ’cause I always l-liked her. She c-came here a lot t-to u-use the phone. Her and that m-man, didn’t c-come in together, b-but I think they knew each other.”

  Lincoln had been listening to the soft sounds of elevator music while he was on hold. When Abby’s demeanor changed, he turned his attention to her side of the conversation.

  “They knew each other? Are you sure?” The information unsettled her. “Sean, this is very important. I need to know what he said to her.”

  “I d-didn’t hear what they s-said, o-over by the postcard display, b-but that is when I remembered him from before. H-he was very p-particular about which p-postcard he w-wanted to purchase.”

  “Okay, but what did he say to Sarah?” Abby looked over at Lincoln, the two communicating with their eyes.

  “I d-don’t th-think he said anything t-to her, but she m-made a c-comment t-to him about what he w-was buying.”

  “Why, what did he buy Sean?”

  “S-some duct t-tape, a roll of rope and a b-box c-cutter.”

  Sean unknowingly listed the tools of Billy’s trade and Abby felt her stomach heave.

  “Sh-she asked him w-what he was going t-to do with all of it, and he said he had a f-few loose ends to t-tie up.”

  Abby fought to control herself as she said her goodbyes to Sean. She hadn’t realized that Lincoln was also off the phone until he knelt down beside her desk.

  “What? What did Sean say?”

  “Billy purchased duct tape, rope and a box cutter. Everything he would need to continue where he left off.” Abby took a moment before she turned to the silent man beside her. “Sean seemed to think that Billy and Sarah knew each other, but that doesn’t make sense.”

  “Knew each other?”

  “Do I need to ask what he bought at Walt’s?” She knew the answer even before Lincoln replied.

  “A dieffenbachia plant.”

  ♥

  The hands on the clock kept moving and the precious time that they had left to hold Billy Ward was slipping through their fingers. The van he had been driving had been gone over with a fine tooth comb and nothing of use had been found. He had obviously switched vehicles at some point because there was no evidence of the van being the vehicle that had killed Buck.

  de Barr looked over Billy’s credit card statement, then told them what they already knew. It wasn’t against the law to buy a plant or to purchase tape, rope and a small knife. There was no evidence that a crime had been committed.

  Looking up at the clock, Abby turned to Lincoln. “We have six hours left and I can’t think of anything else to do.”

  Lincoln looked up from the papers on his desk, and for the first time since he had met her, he caught a glimpse of defeat on her face.

  “We’re missing something, I just don’t know what.” Abby closed her eyes and dropped her heavy head into her hands. “Man, do I want a cigarette.”

  Ignoring her request, Lincoln thought for a moment before he voiced an idea. “Maybe we need to look at this from a different angle.”

  “Different angle?”

  “Yeah. Instead of looking for Sarah through Billy, why not treat her like any other missing person?” The idea sparked some life in Abby, and she pulled her hand away from her face. “You do remember how to do a missing person’s report, don’t you? You know — last seen, vehicle they drive, where they work, who their friends are. Do a check of her credit cards and see if she used them after leaving Gold Creek. Or maybe she phoned a friend or a family member.”

  Abby got up and walked over to one of the detectives typing away on a computer. “Floyd?” she questioned as she pulled up a chair.

  “Just tell me where you want to start.”

  “I’m not sure.” Abby played with the bill of the hat on her head.

  “Where does Sarah live?”

  “Ah...ummm,” Abby thought about it for a moment. “I don’t actually know.” She was embarrassed when she realized the commonality of the question and her lack of ability to answer it.

  “Okay, not a problem. How about her full name?” Floyd’s fingers were poised and ready for an answer.

  “Sarah Jane McMurphy,” she said, recalling with vivid clarity the innocent face and those emerald green eyes. A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “She was born on the East Coast, but she grew up in Montana.” Leaning over, she watched with interest as Floyd searched a series of national databases.

  “That isn’t much to go on, Abby. Anything else?”

  “The outside world wasn’t part of our conversations.” The detective realized for the first time just how little she knew about Sarah. She recalled that most of their conversations had revolved around her, and her life. “Wait. She drove a black Honda Prelude, license number uh...Bravo Kilo Delta six three...two four,” Abby said, dredging the plate number up from her memory.

  “All right!” Floyd tapped in the information. “Here we go,” he said. “Oh. That’s no help. The car is registered to a car rental company.”

  “What?” Abby leaned in to look at the computer screen.

  “Yup. You want their phone number?”

  Abby was more than a little confused by this newest information, “Yeah. Can you print out all of the information?”

  “Sure.” He hit two keys. “On its way.”

  She took the information and returned to her desk.

  “It was a vacation resort. Why wouldn’t she have a rental car?” Lincoln asked as he watched Abby dial the number.

  “And why wouldn’t she tell me? Yes. Hello. I need to get some information about a car that was rented from your company.” Abby identified herself and what she was looking for. “Okay, when was it returned? It was returned to your office there. ... When?” Her face changed with each piece of information she was given. “I’ll hold.” She placed her hand over the receiver, “She is getting me Sarah’s address. Seems the car was returned two days ago, but it wasn’t Sarah who returned it, it was some guy. She remembers because it was rented to a woman and the guy that returned it gave her the creeps.”

  “Billy?” Lincoln asked.

  “Well, he does have a tendency to give you the creeps, does he not?” Sudden movement out of the corner of Abby’s eye caught her attention. It was Lieutenant Banks coming out of her office. “What’s going on?” Abby asked.

  “Billy’s lawyer is here. We have to kick him free.” The lieutenant was clearly not happy with what had to be done. “Do we have anything?” she asked as she moved toward the door. Both Lincoln and Abby shook their heads. “Damn it,” the lieutenant said with a sigh. “We tried, people. Okay, I need two volunteers to shadow Ward — off the clock, that is, until I can get it approved.” Numerous hands shot up and she picked two on her way out the door.

  Lincoln saw the look on Abby’s face as she tightly gripped the phone in her hand. Seeing her predicament, he held out his hand. “Gimme the phone. I’ll get the info, you go with Banks.”

  “Thanks.” She handed him the receiver and was out the door before he had it to his ear.

  A young female voice came on the line and Lincoln quickly identified himself. Not seeming to care who she gave the information to, the rental car agent rattled off the address and name of the woman who had rented the car.

  Lincoln wrote down the name and address. He asked the young girl to repeat it twice, but he knew the name wasn’t going to change. Still staring at it, he hung up the phone. Ripping the paper off the pad, he folded it up and tucked it in his pocket. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Lincoln walked over to the newspapers spread over the table next to the coffeemaker. Moving one of them aside, he found what he had been looking for — the picture of a pretty young redhead and her name below the byline. S. J. Murphy. Lincoln thought he was going to be physically ill when he realized that he would have to tell Abby — not only wa
s Sarah a reporter, but she was the reporter, and Abby was the leak.

  Chapter 16

  Lincoln’s mind swirled with information he didn’t want to think about. If Sarah was the reporter, then... The phone on his desk rang loudly in the all but empty squad room. “Homicide,” he answered routinely.

  “Detective Quinn or Detective Stanfield, please.”

  The voice was familiar but he couldn’t place it. “This is Detective Quinn, how can I help you?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Detective. This is Frank Sabatini...Traci’s father,” he said, identifying himself as the father of Billy Ward’s third victim.

  Lincoln recalled the quiet mountain of a man weeping openly in court over the release of the man who had brutally murdered his little girl. “Yes, Mister Sabatini, what can I do for you?”

  “Frank, please call me Frank.”

  “If you will call me Lincoln.”

  “Fine.” He hesitated for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. “I was talking to some of the other parents, and we understand that you have Billy Ward back in custody. Is that true?”

  For a split second, Lincoln actually considered lying to him in hopes of sparing him any further pain, but it just wasn’t in him. “Yes, we did.”

  “So does that mean you have arrested—You did?” Frank’s tone changed. “You mean you had him and let him go again?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. We didn’t have anything to hold him on. Until we find evidence to prove that it was Mr. Ward th—”

  “You know, Detective, someone doesn’t have to tell me it’s raining when my head is getting wet, and they don’t have to prove that it is water. I just know.”

  Anger and frustration were breaking through the large man’s quiet demeanor, and Lincoln didn’t blame him a bit. “I wish it was that simple, Frank, but it’s not. We have a legal system that relies on checks and balances, procedures to follow and laws to uphold. It may not always seem fair, but it is the most just system there is.”