by T. R. Ragan
“Well, that’s a relief,” Jessie said.
Olivia rolled her eyes. “It’s the same with alcohol, drugs, and oral sex. Some kids my age do all those things. I don’t judge because it’s none of my business. But most of the kids I hang out with are smart. They don’t need their parents stopping them at the door and giving them a list of what not to do every time they leave the house.”
“Okay,” Jessie said. “I get it. I’m going to trust you.”
“And I’ll talk to you every once in a while and let you know what’s going on.”
They hugged again and Jessie’s heart swelled. For the first time in a long while, she felt as if she and Olivia were headed in the right direction.
Jessie took a shower and then put together a platter of vegetables and dip. Ben and Zee would be arriving in the next fifteen minutes to work on the DHI case. With her cell phone in hand, she plopped down on the couch in the family room and called Colin.
“Hey there,” he said. “What’s up?”
“I haven’t talked to you since the wedding, and I wanted to find out how your dad is doing.”
“He’s still in the hospital, but the doctors are hopeful he’ll be discharged by the end of the week.”
“I hope so, too.”
“Hang on a minute while I hop in the car.”
She heard shuffling and then nothing. She thought she’d lost the connection until she heard his voice again. “Are you there?”
“I’m here,” she told him. “Where are you off to?”
“No rest for the weary.”
“The DHI case?”
“Yep. I guess you heard about it from Ben Morrison?”
“Actually, it was Owen Shepard. He asked for my help.”
“He didn’t mention hiring outside help during our meetings. Have you seen the news?”
“No, why do you ask?”
“Another body was found near the American River. I’m on my way there now.”
Jessie wondered why Owen Shepard hadn’t notified her, but she kept her thoughts to herself. “Any idea who the victim is?”
“Male. Possibly in his forties. Another DHI employee. That’s all I’ve got at this point.”
“Two deaths in less than two weeks,” she said quietly. “Considering how blasé Owen Shepard came across when he hired me, I’m just surprised this thing has escalated so fast.”
“I thought you would have solved the case by now,” he teased.
“Not yet,” she said, “but I was hoping to pick your brain and see what you knew.”
“I wish I could help you out, Jessie, but I’ve got the sergeant so far up my ass with this one he’s probably listening to us right now. I’ll be lucky to get four hours of sleep tonight.”
“I’ll let you go then. Good luck with the case.”
“You, too.” There was a long pause before Colin said, “Hey, Jess?”
“What is it?”
“I had fun dancing with you. I hope we can do that again soon.”
“Me, too.”
After disconnecting the call, Jessie sat there for a moment, thinking about Colin and relationships, and wondering if they stood a chance.
Olivia walked into the room. “What’s for dinner?”
“There are some leftovers in the fridge,” Jessie said as she grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.
“I finished my homework,” Olivia said. “Are we going to work on that DHI list tonight?”
“We are,” Jessie told her before she turned up the volume. On the television screen was a female reporter standing near the American River. Behind her was crime scene tape around an area being worked over by a forensic team.
“The body of Brad Elton, chief financial officer at the main offices of DHI located in Sacramento,” the reporter announced, “was found a short time ago by a man walking the trail near American River. Authorities have not yet made a statement, but as you can see behind me they have cordoned off a large area. The eyewitness said that a message had been written in black lettering on the dead man’s chest.” The reporter read from her notes. “It read: ‘Who’s next? Ask Owen Shepard.’” She paused while the cameraman zoomed in on EMTs as they transferred the body bag onto a stretcher and then wheeled it to where an ambulance waited. “We called DHI, but we were told that Owen Shepard, the CEO at DHI, wasn’t taking calls, and we were unable to get a statement.”
Olivia placed a slice of pizza in the microwave and then came to the living room to watch. “Another DHI employee is dead?”
Jessie nodded.
“Everyone who works at that company must be freaking out.”
“I would think so.” Jessie wondered if this would change Owen Shepard’s attitude about the whole thing. At the same time, she knew the killer needed to be stopped before he hurt anyone else.
A knock at the door sent Olivia running down the stairs. She returned with Ben and Zee.
After Olivia filled Zee in on the news, she gave her a quick tour of her bedroom. Jessie offered Ben a seat at the kitchen table. “Thanks for coming.”
He pulled a wooden chair back from the table and sat.
“They found another body,” she told him.
He nodded wearily. “I just came from there.” He met her gaze. “Owen didn’t call you to let you know?”
She shook her head. “You look exhausted.”
“I am, but don’t worry about me. I’m here because it’s what I do. It’s my job. And besides, I need to keep busy.”
“The images?” she asked as she went to the refrigerator and then brought him back a glass of water.
“Yes. They’re getting worse.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just know that I’m here for my own sanity.”
“It looks like the feds are involved now.”
He nodded. “They took my file, both letters, and the flash drive.”
“But you have copies of everything?”
“Of course.” He reached into his bag, pulled out his laptop, and set it up on the table.
Zee and Olivia joined them, bringing their computers, both taking the same spots where they had sat last night.
Ben raised a brow at Jessie, clearly surprised by Zee’s and Olivia’s presence.
“I need all the help I can get right now,” Jessie told him.
Ben said nothing.
“We have two letters from the killer,” Jessie told the girls. “But we’re going to start off by watching a video.”
“I was able to edit out the last few frames, but it’s still graphic,” Ben said. “Are you sure you’re all okay with this?”
“I’m fine,” Olivia said.
Zee nodded. “Me, too.”
Ben turned his computer so they would all be able to watch it together.
The video began with the killer’s muffled voice saying, “Testing, one, two, three.” After watching the young man, Tyler McDonald, pleading for his life, it was Jessie who felt sick to her stomach and appeared to be having the hardest time keeping it together. Everyone else looked focused and ready to find clues.
After the third viewing, Zee held up a hand.
Ben hit “Pause.”
“Could you replay the last bit?”
Ben rewound the video to the point where the victim was looking directly into the camera lens.
Tyler: “Why are you doing this?”
Killer: “You know why.”
Tyler: “I told you. I’ve only been working for DHI for a short time. I never met Owen Shepard. He wouldn’t know me if we bumped into each other.”
A long pause.
Tyler, eyes wide, voice pleading: “I had nothing to do with Han—”
A gunshot sounded. Screen went black.
“I wonder what Tyler was trying to say?” Olivia asked.
“Can you replay that last sentence in slow motion?” Zee asked.
Jessie had to fight the urge to turn the video off. But this was the reason they had gathered here toni
ght. For the next few minutes they watched the last section over and over again.
HAN—BOOM!
HAN—BOOM!
HAN—BOOM!
“It sounds to me like he might be saying something like, ‘I had nothing to do with handling your case,’” Olivia said.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Zee said. “Look at the expression on his face. He looks suddenly worried, as if he realizes his life is not going to be spared.”
“It does seem as if the killer panicked, didn’t want the viewers to hear what Tyler was about to say, which means it could be our biggest clue.”
For the next fifteen minutes they tossed out ideas on what Tyler might have been saying.
“I think it’s time to move on to the victims,” Jessie said. “Tyler McDonald and Brad Elton. We know they both worked at DHI. Could you and Zee,” she said, looking at Olivia, “focus on finding as much information on the two men as possible? Olivia can search social media. Zee, you can use your personal databases. While you two work on that, I’m going to show Ben our list of keywords and how we’re going about narrowing the list we got from DHI.”
By the end of the night, the only connection between the killer’s two victims appeared to be that they were single and they both worked for DHI.
Tomorrow night they would get back to concentrating on DHI’s list of grievances. After Olivia went to bed and Zee drove off, Jessie walked Ben to his car.
“I wanted to tell you that I talked to your sister before she left.”
“I was wondering how that worked out, but I was at soccer games on Sunday and I never got a chance to call you. When I didn’t hear from you, I assumed it didn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry. I should have called.”
“She agreed to talk to you?” he asked, clearly surprised.
“Yes. I caught her as she sat down to have breakfast at the hotel. She was gracious, and yet, of course, guarded after I told her I was helping you look into your past. She advised against delving too deeply, claiming it will only bring you grief.”
“When I cornered her, she mentioned as much,” Ben said.
“She did tell me that she had a wonderful time with your family.”
“It’s true,” Ben said. “Our day together went better than expected. Melony and I felt as if she’d been a part of the family for years. As great as she was with my children, though, she still did all she could to keep her distance from me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So,” Ben said. “What did you get out of her?”
“She told me your mother had a mean streak and used to be cruel to Nancy’s dog. If Nancy intervened in any way, it only made things worse. Nancy said she basically steered clear of your mother whenever she was in one of her moods. But there was one particular instance that stood out.”
“Go on.”
“It was Christmas Day, and Nancy said your mother was unusually cruel to the dog. You came between the dog and your mother and made her stop.”
“Did she say how I stopped her?”
“According to Nancy, you were much bigger than your mother at the time. You put a hand on her face and pushed her backward until she was up against a wall. And then you turned around, scooped the dog into your arms, and left the house.”
His brow furrowed. “What happened to the dog?”
“Nancy didn’t know. She just said she never saw the dog again.”
Ben groaned.
“What?”
“It doesn’t sound like a happy ending to me.”
“Why?” Jessie asked. “You must have found help. Maybe one of the neighbors offered to take the dog in.” When Ben failed to respond, she said, “Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of everything.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
TWENTY-SIX
“Tell me about Hannah,” Emily asked her captor. “I know she was athletic since you told me as much, but what was she like? Was she funny? Quiet? Argumentative? Outgoing?”
Emily was sitting on one end of the bench, her back against the wall, and she could see Hannah’s dad through the glass. He was reading again. The man intrigued her. Not too strange considering she planned to major in psychology.
Every day she set the cooler on the bench and attempted to jump to the top of the wall, and every day she failed. She’d finally come to the realization that she might not get out of here. She hadn’t been feeling well. Her body felt fatigued, heavy. She might die in this dank, depressing room.
She had tried everything she could think of to convince him to let her go. She’d gone from scared to angry to desperate. But the man kept trying to convince her he was on some sort of crazy-assed mission to make a change, and the only way to do that was to create havoc and demand that people listen. He wanted all experimental drugs to be covered. Odd to think that in trying to save lives, he was willing to take lives.
As far as she was concerned, Hannah’s father wanted revenge. Why else would he have gone after Owen Shepard’s only daughter? Deep down she knew her father wasn’t to blame for Hannah’s death since decisions at DHI were made by many people, not just one man.
Interesting, too, that the anger she’d felt toward her father for years had completely left her. It took being locked up in a cramped, uncomfortable room to find a way to forgive him. He might never know she’d had a change of heart, but that was okay. Doing so had been freeing. With not much else to do but think and analyze, she’d realized that even though her father had rarely been around when she was growing up, she’d always known he loved her. Holding on to her resentment had been her way of clinging to her father. Grasping on to the worst parts of him had stunted her growth.
“She had a beautiful imagination,” her captor said. “When she was very young, she would draw detailed pictures of faraway castles, complete with moats and dragons. When her mother asked if she was the princess living inside the castle, Hannah would laugh.” His expression softened. “You see, according to Hannah, a prince lived inside the castle. He’d been trapped there all his life. He wasn’t handsome like Prince Charming, nor was he exceptionally clever. But Hannah was the one who was going to save him.” He paused, swallowed, and added, “And she was going to marry him.”
“Why would she want to do that?” Emily asked.
“Because the prince was kind to all living creatures, including those who refused to release him.”
“I would have liked to meet her.”
His head was bent forward, and at first she thought he’d gone back to reading. But then she saw his shoulders moving and realized he was crying.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Jessie was in her office by eight o’clock the next morning. She opened the file on her desk and found herself staring at Nick Bale.
Why was he following her?
More than likely, he knew his wife had hired her against his wishes. Was following her Nick Bale’s subtle way of telling Jessie to back off? If so, that would mean he was worried about what she might learn. Otherwise, it seemed logical to Jessie that he would merely confront her.
Beneath the article with Nick and Ashley’s picture was the piece of paper Ben had given her with Rene Steele’s name, address, and telephone number. Rene Steele had been one of the nurses working at Mercy General when Dakota Bale was abducted.
She stared at the phone number and thought about calling the woman. But then, just as quickly, she decided to take a ride to Auburn instead. Sometimes it was best to try to catch a person off guard. Not everyone was good at making excuses or getting rid of someone they didn’t wish to talk to. Jessie was counting on it.
On her feet, Jessie grabbed her phone and called Zee.
“Jessie Cole Investigations,” Zee said in greeting. “How can I help you?”
“I’m taking you off the Lindsay Norton case. I need you to work on the DHI list since we only have a few hundred DHI complaints left to examine.”
“Why don’t I just spend a few hours on the Norton case a
nd then the rest of the day on the DHI case?”
“Zee. What did I tell you about following orders? I need you to work on the list. I’m heading to Auburn to talk to someone, but I expect to see you here in the office when I return.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“Thank you. I’ll talk to you later.”
Zee put her phone down and let her head fall back onto the headrest. Jessie was absolutely right. She had a difficult time following orders. She straightened as she remembered that Jessie was heading to Auburn. It wasn’t as if Zee needed to run off right this minute.
She glanced at Lindsay Norton’s house. The woman was committing fraud. She was sure of it. If Zee didn’t find proof, like right this second, the woman would collect money she didn’t deserve.
Zee’s stomach growled. She’d left the house so early she’d forgotten to eat breakfast. Reaching for the brown bag her dad’s girlfriend, Deanne, had made for her, she looked inside and then pulled out a Fuji apple.
She turned up the volume on the radio. There was nothing less inspiring than an apple. If Deanne had included a side of peanut butter or even taken the time to cut it into slices, that might be different. Putting the apple aside, Zee lifted a piece of Tupperware from the bottom of the bag. Inside, she found a spinach wrap stuffed with vegetables. Nice. At the very bottom of the bag was a note. She unfolded the paper and read: If you work hard and do your best, you can do anything.
She had to admit the woman was growing on her. Deanne was a Taurus, kind, dependable, and caring. She was also a tad possessive of Zee’s dad, and a bit materialistic, but overall, she was okay. Recently, Deanne had plummeted into the world of The Secret, an old bestselling self-help book by Rhonda Byrne. It was all about positivity and seeing-the-glass-half-full kind of shit, which was both admirable and annoying at the same time.
About to take a bite of her spinach wrap, Zee stopped when she heard what sounded like a scream. She quickly put her food away and turned off the radio.
There it was again. A high-pitched, slightly muffled shriek.
It was usually a fairly quiet street. She would know since she’d been sitting here for over a week now. There weren’t a lot of cars or pedestrians. A few bicyclists every once in a while, but that was about it.