No Man's Land

by Sara Driscoll

“No way. You mean McCord was right?” Meg rolled her eyes. “There’ll be no living with him after this.” She held out her hand for Craig’s notes. “What’ve you got?”

  “Patience. You know you can’t read my handwriting.”

  “Hieroglyphics,” Brian muttered, earning a steely glare from his supervisor.

  “Then tell me,” Meg said. “What did you find?”

  “Two seniors. One disappeared from a retirement home and was reported missing. The other disappeared from a private home, but because he has no family and was a bit of a recluse to begin with, no one knew he was gone until his body was found.”

  “No one should die alone and unnoticed like that,” Brian said.

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Craig scanned his notes. “The first one was found inside a movie theater in a shuttered mall in Martinsburg, West Virginia. The second was found inside an abandoned brewery in Smithton, Pennsylvania.”

  “Was an autopsy done on either of them?” Meg asked.

  “I’ve only got minimal information at this point, so I don’t know, but I’ll find out. I suspect it would depend on the state of the remains when they were discovered. Both cases are listed as suspicious deaths, and both remain open.”

  “Can you get copies of the case files?”

  “Already requested.”

  “This has piqued your interest, hasn’t it?”

  “I don’t know if that’s the correct term for it, but it has my attention, yes. I don’t know if it’s because the victims are my dad’s age, but I find mistreatment of the elderly pisses me off. It’s like taking advantage of a child. You don’t prey on the helpless.”

  “And if you do,” Meg said, “God help you, because we’re coming for you. Thanks, Craig, this is a huge help.”

  “Hopefully, we’ll get more on it soon. But that’s not all.”

  “There’s another victim?”

  “Not definitively. But this new information made me think about who hasn’t been found in an abandoned property. Who is simply missing. And there certainly are a number of missing senior citizens. Florida, Missouri, New Jersey, Maryland, Virginia, and others. Some have gone missing from retirement villas, some have disappeared from their own homes, some have disappeared while out on walks while out of town visiting family.” Craig held up a hand. “And before you say it, not every missing senior is going to be related to this. The sad fact of the matter is that the elderly disappear by misadventure every day.”

  “They do, and that could cloud this, but you still might have a victim or two in that list, we just don’t know it yet.”

  “Precisely. And many of these happened within the last six to nine months, so the trail has gone stone cold.”

  “Ah. I follow you now,” Meg said. “You want to watch for new missing victims.”

  Brian nodded in agreement. “That makes sense. We have what looks like a multistate incident going on, and we know it’s ongoing because the latest victim is so recent. What’s to stop him or her from taking the next victim. Have you got alerts out?”

  “I do,” said Craig. “We’ll see where this goes. If anyone goes missing, I’ll hear about it and then we can decide if there’s anything we can do with the information.”

  “And if there is, we’ll go after the killer. Hopefully in time to save a life.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Access Details: The information by which one selects and gains access to an urbex site.

  Saturday, October 27, 9:12 AM

  Jennings residence

  Arlington, Virginia

  “Good morning.” Meg regarded Webb over the rim of her coffee cup, her smile broadening when he simply slid her a sideways glance and shuffled toward the coffeemaker. “Wow, this is a switch. Usually I’m the nonverbal one and you’re all smiles and energy in the morning.”

  Webb poured coffee into the mug she’d left out for him and took two swallows, disregarding the heat. He set the cup down on the counter and closed his eyes, as if concentrating on the caffeine flowing into his veins. Then he opened his eyes, picked up his coffee, and wandered to the table. He paused long enough to bend and press a kiss just below her ear, chuckling at the surprised catch in her breath, and then straightened to push past the dogs. “Look out, Hawk. Blink, shift left. Saki, you too.” He sidled around the pack of dogs surrounding Meg, pulled out a chair, and fell into it. “Have you already eaten?”

  “No, I was waiting for you to regain consciousness. I figured you needed a decent breakfast after working all those hours yesterday. The dogs, however, seem to think it’s a crime that I haven’t fed them a second breakfast. Let me assure you, they got their own an hour ago.” She pushed the Washington Post across the table to him. “You guys rated an above-the-fold story in this morning’s edition.”

  “It’s not often you get an industrial fire that hits five alarms, requires every firefighter in the city, and has compressed gas cylinders exploding every few minutes for extra excitement. When you have something like that, you don’t clock out at end of shift, you keep going until it’s out.”

  “And then you’re too wired to actually fall asleep. You did about thirty-six hours before you finally crashed. And then you crashed. I’m lucky we got you into bed, because once you were out, there was no moving you.”

  Webb took another gulp of coffee. “Sorry. I know you wanted to go out last night.”

  Meg waved the apology away. “No need to apologize. We can do it another night.” She pushed back her chair and stood. “Eggs work for you?”

  “Perfect, thanks.”

  Cara appeared in the doorway, wearing a robe over her pajamas with her hair sleep rumpled. “Morning,” she croaked. “Coffee?”

  “Aren’t you two a pair this morning.” Meg pointed toward the coffeemaker. “Left a cup out for you. Pour and go. I knew you didn’t have any classes this morning, and I wasn’t sure if McCord stayed over last night, so there’s one for him too.”

  “No, he was out covering some story for this morning’s paper”—she threw a pointed look at Webb—“so he knew he’d be working late.”

  Meg pulled the paper closer and leaned over it to stare at the byline for the headline story. “Of course it’s him. I should have known.”

  “He had a late deadline and he didn’t want to drag Cody here in the middle of the night, or we’d have all the dogs in an uproar greeting each other in the wee hours of the morning.”

  “For which we are eternally grateful.” Meg smirked at Webb. “Not that it likely would have woken you.”

  “Not a chance.” Webb drained his coffee mug with three more swallows and pushed away from the table. “I think I’m conscious now. Let me give you a hand with breakfast.”

  Thirty minutes later, they lounged around the breakfast table with refilled mugs and empty plates. Webb took his last piece of bacon and tossed it to Blink.

  Cara poked him in the biceps. “Stop feeding my dog at the table. You’re teaching him bad habits.”

  “I’m trying to win him over. You notice he’s not terrified of me anymore?”

  “I have actually.” She poked him again. “Stop feeding my dog at the table.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Now you’re making me sound like my mother. I—”

  Meg’s phone rang from where it sat beside her plate. She glanced at the display. “It’s Craig. I’m not on today, so maybe it’s something big.” She accepted the call. “Hi, Craig.”

  Craig eschewed a greeting to cut right to the chase. “A missing senior has just been reported.”

  “What? How did you find out?” Meg grasped Webb’s forearm to get his attention and angled her phone outward so he and Cara could hear.

  “I asked to be kept in the loop in case of any missing seniors, and one was reported missing yesterday afternoon in Allentown, Pennsylvania. Now, I know what you’re thinking—”

  “That this could be someone who is just confused, or who has wandered off and will be found in the next half hour.
”

  “I know. I took two minutes to weigh this before calling you because it isn’t an obvious abduction. The gentleman’s name is Warren Roth, and he’s missing from Park Ridge Residence retirement community. He was supposed to meet other residents at the community center for their weekly Friday night dinner. One of them had talked to him midafternoon and he had intended to go but then never showed. They knew where he kept a spare key, so they went into his place, but he wasn’t at home. None of his family knows where he is. He’s seventy-nine but has no major health issues given his age. A little high blood pressure, but that’s about it.”

  “We don’t even really know we have a case yet; we’re just suspicious of one.” Meg locked eyes with Webb, who nodded encouragingly. “On the other hand, I’m free today and I don’t mind putting a little time into this. What’s the worst that could happen? We find a confused elderly gentleman and get him home, or get him medical care if he needs it? Or we have a fun afternoon doing urbex at a new site?”

  “That’s why I called. There’s no losing side to this equation as long as you want to put in the time and effort.”

  “I’m up for it. And I’ll call Brian. Another team would be useful.”

  “That’s fine with me. It’s not up to me where my team members go on their days off.”

  “Keep you in the loop?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thanks, Craig. Bye.” She hung up and then immediately speed-dialed Brian, talking as soon as he answered. “Morning. Want in on some urbex?”

  “For fun or for an actual search?”

  “Possibly an actual search. I’m going to treat it like that, anyway. Craig just called. There’s a missing senior in Allentown, Pennsylvania. I know it’s your day off and you and Ryan might already have plans.”

  “I’m free. Ryan’s about to head out to some special meeting at the Smithsonian, so he won’t even notice I’m gone. Where are we searching?”

  “No idea yet. Can you head over and we’ll leave from here? I need to call a few more people. Then we need to brainstorm.”

  “I can be there in a half hour.”

  “Great. See you then.” She hung up. “Brian and Lacey are in.” Her phone alerted an incoming text, and she opened Craig’s message. She finished her coffee in a few swallows as she turned the details over in her mind. “Chuck’s on your shift? He’s off duty today?”

  “Unless he picked up some overtime, yeah.”

  “Think he’d be willing to help out? We could really use him. He’s the expert at navigating urbex sites.”

  “I’ll call him. Let me get my phone.” Webb left the room, heading for Meg’s bedroom.

  “What about Clay?” Cara asked. “He’s going to want in on it.”

  “He’s the other person I wanted to contact. Honestly, we could use his on-the-fly research skills. I need to get dressed. Can you call him? Tell him we’re headed to Pennsylvania and that if he’s in, I need him to bring his laptop. Tell him he absolutely cannot bring his crazy dog with him.”

  “You think he’d want to?”

  “I think he thinks search-and-rescue is pretty interesting, and maybe it’s something Cody could work toward when he calms down a bit more, but now is not the time.”

  “He can leave Cody here with Blink and Saki and me.”

  “Which always makes him happy, so McCord won’t feel guilty about leaving him.” She stacked her dishes on top of Webb’s and carried them to the sink. “I need to get ready. If he wants to come along, tell him I need him here inside of thirty minutes.”

  “Oh, he’ll be here. He wouldn’t miss this for the world. Now stop cleaning the kitchen. You might be saving a life. Get moving.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Urban Adventure: An investigation of derelict structures focused on experience rather than sightseeing.

  Saturday, October 27, 12:18 PM

  I-95

  Westminster, Maryland

  “Talk to me, McCord. What are you thinking?” “Give me a few more minutes.” McCord’s tinny voice came through Meg’s cell phone speaker as her gaze shifted to the passenger side-view mirror, where she watched Brian’s navy SUV follow them. McCord was the dark form sitting in the passenger seat.

  “We’ve been on the road for two hours, so you must have an initial list. Now give. I want to bounce your ideas off Chuck for safety and feasibility.”

  Everyone had met at Meg’s house and they’d been on the road since before ten-thirty. They’d quickly decided that Brian would take his SUV with his K-9 compartment carrying Hawk and Lacey with McCord, while Webb drove Meg and Smaill in his truck, which was already loaded with tools and basic rescue and emergency medical gear. McCord had his laptop with him and was using the drive time to research potential sites in the Allentown area.

  When the dead air over the connection lasted more than fifteen seconds, Meg rolled her eyes and tried again. “McCord. . .”

  “Yeah, yeah. Okay. I have a short list of five places, most of them in Allentown, but one outside of Allentown as well.”

  “Run them by me,” Smaill said from the back of the king cab. “I’ve done some urbex in that area. Not a lot, but some, and I might be able to fill in some blanks.”

  “Great. Here they are in no particular order. Break in with comments at any time.” McCord paused for a moment. “First up is Millford Middle School. Built in the nineteen twenties, the school was closed in the eighties after fire ripped through one wing. Been abandoned ever since.”

  “Possible,” said Smaill, “but less likely. I’ve heard about it. The building is pretty unstable, and someone got hurt in there a few years ago, so they locked it down. Could make it harder to get inside, especially considering the perp isn’t going in alone.”

  “Good to know. I’ll move it down the list. The next is the Allentown Opera House.”

  “Allentown was big enough to have an opera house?” Meg asked.

  “Third largest city in Pennsylvania and in a metropolitan area of nearly a million. It opened after World War II, during the boom years, and was a popular cultural hot spot for not only opera but the symphony and traveling Broadway shows. But it didn’t make it to the millennium. Closed in 1998. Someone bought it to refurbish and reopen it, but that never happened. It’s right in town and easily accessible.”

  “Probably also easily visible to anyone passing by wondering why someone is dragging an elderly man into an abandoned building,” Webb said.

  “There is that,” Smaill agreed, “but I’ve been there before. It’s a glorious mess of disintegrating velvet curtains and gold-leafed ceilings. A maze of rooms backstage, and I’m pretty sure the upper platforms for lighting are still intact. Definitely some places to strand someone with low mobility. Keep it at the top of the list.”

  McCord ran through other possibilities—a tool and die factory, a parish church, and an outdated hospital on the edge of town. “There’s one other, but it’s a little more out of the way.”

  “That’s the last one?” Meg asked.

  “Yeah. Bethlehem Steel.”

  Meg exchanged a look with Smaill, whose face lit up as if he’d had a sudden eureka moment. “There are alarm bells going off here. Chuck, have you been there?”

  “No, I wasn’t into urbex when it was accessible, but I’ve seen pictures, and the stories are legendary. So was the disappointment in the community when the land was sold. Bethlehem Steel was once an industry giant, the second biggest steel producer behind US Steel and the country’s largest shipbuilder. But in the eighties and nineties, they couldn’t compete with cheaper international goods and they filed for bankruptcy in . . . 2000?”

  “Close,” said McCord. “2001.”

  “OK, 2001. This huge industrial complex in Bethlehem on the banks of the Lehigh River has sat empty and rusting away since even before they declared bankruptcy, so it was a community favorite.”

  “Until it was bought in 2007.”

  “Right. The company that bought it razed p
art of the complex and built a casino. They hold outdoor concerts there now, but the majority of the original buildings are fenced off from the public. No more urbex from that point on. But there are many places your perp could abandon someone. Of course, now that the property is under new ownership, it will likely be harder to get inside.”

  “Could go either way,” McCord said. “The company has turned the site into a tour opportunity and they’ve built walkways and platforms around the complex, but that’s all outside. You can’t go inside the buildings. However, they’re working on restoring some of the buildings for inside tours.”

  “Which means there’s access to the property somewhere.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking, and that once we’re in, we could move from building to building unencumbered.”

  “And think of the timing,” Webb said. “Roth was taken on a Friday evening and could be transported and brought into the site after dark, and after any workers who are part of the restoration have gone home for the weekend.”

  “But if he’s leaving Roth on-site, as long as he’s not already dead, he could still be alive on Monday morning to be found by the workers.” Brian’s voice filtered through the speaker. “You said there was no evidence of cause of death on Donna Parker?”

  “Nothing obvious,” Meg confirmed. “She was injured. You know how fragile the elderly can be and how their skin can be like parchment. It looks like there was a struggle during the kidnapping and some of the skin on her arms tore, causing bleeding. But that was certainly not enough to cause her death.”

  “So, assuming they’re going into the sites alive, how are they dying? It’s October. It’s not going to be heat exhaustion or hypothermia. Maybe the suspect hopes shock will bring on a heart attack?”

  “Maybe he’s got a pocket full of digoxin to help that along.” Webb shoulder-checked and moved into the left lane to avoid a lumbering 18-wheeler. “That would induce heart failure and would look like a typical heart attack on the surface. If that’s what he’s doing, he might even be administering it before he gets to the dump site so he’s lugging a dead body and not a struggling one. The elderly tend to be frail and wouldn’t take much effort to move.”