Deadly Recall
Page 19
“I’ll do it,” Karen said. “Just give me two minutes.”
“Give me two adjectives that might describe Emily,” Ben asked the other girls.
“Super sweet,” Brenda said as Teri nodded in agreement.
“I thought she was fake when I first met her,” Teri said. “But it didn’t take me long to realize she’s the real deal. Nothing phony about her.”
“Does she have a boyfriend?”
Teri said yes while Brenda said no. Teri rolled her eyes as she explained. “Emily didn’t want her parents to know she was dating anyone.”
“Why not?”
Teri shrugged. “No idea.”
“Her mother is strict,” Brenda told him.
Ben used the app on his iPhone to take notes. “Did Emily usually walk to school?”
Brenda nodded. “She has a car, but she never uses it to get to class.”
“No way,” Teri chimed in. “Out of the four of us, she’s the athletic one. She never drove to campus.”
“What’s her routine? Does she stop for coffee on the way?”
“She doesn’t drink coffee,” Karen said as she returned. She looked at Ben. “Are you ready to go?”
He stood, tossed a business card on the glass table in front of him. “If you think of anything that might be helpful to the investigation, give me a call, okay?”
They all nodded before he followed Karen out the door and toward the campus.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Emily had spent the past few hours with her head in the toilet, puking her guts out. She didn’t have the strength to get to her feet, so she lay on the floor curled in a ball. Surprised to hear the door to her room open, she managed to turn her head just enough to see him enter her space. He’d come inside only once before. She regretted that she hadn’t lunged for him, kicked him in the balls, or pulled his hair out.
And now she didn’t have the energy to stand, let alone attack him.
She turned on her side, her head resting on her arm, and watched him drag the padding on the wooden bench out of the room and then replace it with something thicker. Same with the pillow. Next he stepped around her, took the toilet apart, and walked away, holding the section filled with waste.
It took a second for it to register that he’d left her alone and the door was still open.
This was her chance to escape.
She crawled to the bench and used it to pull herself to her feet. With her hands on the wall for support, she made her way to the door. The wide-open space before her was as tall as it was long and wide. Her heart beat hard and fast against her ribs. As soon as she let go of the doorframe, her legs shook from the effort it took just to stand without anything to hold on to. Her feet felt like twenty-pound weights. Each step took tremendous effort. She had barely reached the futon where her captor sat every day when her vision blurred and the room began to spin.
The exit had to be close. She couldn’t stop now.
Arms outstretched, she took two more steps before her legs crumpled beneath her and she wilted to the ground.
THIRTY-EIGHT
As soon as Owen and Ben left, Jessie walked back to her house, where she found Zee working quietly at the kitchen table. She looked around. “Is Olivia still sleeping?”
“Yep. She’s probably traumatized after being attacked by that boy at the dance.”
“How did you know about that?”
“She called me for a ride, but I told her to call you.”
Jessie’s shoulders fell at the idea that Olivia hadn’t thought to call her first.
“Morning,” Olivia said as she trudged past them to the kitchen with Higgins and Cecil following close at her heels. “What’s wrong with everyone?” Olivia asked when no one responded to her greeting.
“My eye hurts a little,” Zee said, “but other than that, I’m fine.”
Olivia looked at Jessie and frowned. “What did I do now?”
“Nothing,” Jessie said.
Zee snorted. “I think her feelings are hurt that you called me for a ride instead of her.”
Olivia groaned. “Why are you so sensitive about that kind of stuff? I was upset, and to tell you the truth, I really wasn’t thinking.” Olivia walked over to Jessie and gave her a hug. “If I had taken a minute to think things through, I definitely would have called you first.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Jessie said. “We’re good.”
“Okay,” Zee said, clapping her hands for emphasis. “No time for family drama. We’ve got to find that girl.”
Jessie took a seat next to Zee. She picked up the list of grievances, which had been narrowed down to 350 names.
“We’ve hardly made a dent,” Zee said.
“Patience. It’s a process of elimination.” Jessie looked at the letters written by MAH and saw that Zee had highlighted words and phrases such as sincerely, greed, needlessly suffered.
Zee looked at Jessie. “I figured we might as well focus on word usage.”
Olivia hovered over them. “Basically we’re doing the same thing over again, only we’re looking for new keywords?”
“Yes,” Jessie said. “Until new information emerges, this is all we’ve got to work with.”
Zee nodded. “Let’s do this.”
Before focusing on the DHI complaints, Jessie logged onto her computer and did a search for the book I Stink! Why would Emily make up a story about her father reading that particular book to her unless she was trying to tell them something?
A dozen links popped up. The book appeared to be an oldie but goodie, still popular, written and illustrated by Kate and Jim McMullan. It was written for ages five and under. There were lots of colorful pictures. The book was about landfills and waste material, how waste decomposes and gives off an odor that many people find offensive.
She wrote down the words dump, landfill, bad-smelling odor. What did it all mean? What was Emily trying to tell them?
THIRTY-NINE
When Emily opened her eyes, she was back inside the tiny room. How long, she wondered, had she been unconscious? Her mouth was dry, and her tongue felt like sandpaper. Her skin itched.
The man had made her a makeshift bed on the floor instead of on the hard wooden bench. Was he trying to prevent her from falling off the bench? He obviously knew she was weak. But the idea of him trying to make her more comfortable didn’t make much sense under the circumstances.
Turning her head to the right, she saw a water bottle and a granola bar. Her hand shook as she reached for the water. It took most of her strength to open the lid on the plastic bottle, but it was worth the effort. The water tasted fresh and glorious. Cold and crisp on her tongue before it made a river down her throat. Up until now, she’d been given Gatorade, yogurt, and crackers. She was tired of eating and drinking the same thing, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She chuckled. Not because it was funny but because she had no more tears to shed. For the first time since she’d been brought to this place, she knew she was dying. She’d known from the beginning that it was a possibility, but she’d never imagined that she would just slowly disintegrate.
Were her brothers looking for her?
Did anyone know she was missing?
As she struggled to unwrap the granola bar, she saw the man looking through the window. “Am I dying?” she asked him.
At first he simply stared at her, then he nodded, slowly.
“I thought so. At least I won’t die in vain, right?”
Nothing.
“I mean, maybe people will watch your videos and finally understand that people shouldn’t have to die needlessly.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“No. That’s not how the world works. Most people are just trying to survive themselves.”
“Maybe so, but people need to start caring. Your father and others at DHI need to hold themselves accountable. They’re the killers, not me.”
His voice shook as he spoke. This was the most angry she’d ever
seen him. “You’re right,” she said, hoping to calm him. She didn’t really believe her father and the people working for him were killers, but she also understood the man’s frustration. He’d done everything he could to save his daughter, but it hadn’t been enough. He wanted to blame someone. “In the short time I’ve been here,” she said, “I thought I could forgive my dad. And maybe I have in some ways.” Her voice cracked, and it pained her to talk, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “I mean, I forgive him for not always being there, and for not being the best dad, but—” She stopped, unable to think straight.
Emily’s gaze clouded. She was sick and she was dying and she truly felt bad for her abductor’s loss. Maybe it was stupid of her to feel sorry for him, but she couldn’t help it. Dizziness overtook her as the room began to spin. She wanted him to stop being angry. “If I were you, I would be angry, too.”
He pointed a finger at her. “Stop trying to play me. You don’t know anything!”
“I’m not playing you.”
“My Hannah loved life. She was grateful for all she’d been given. She never asked for anything!”
“I had everything,” she said, “and yet I never appreciated half of it.” Her throat burned. “Cars were given to me. Insurance paid for. I wasn’t anything like Hannah. I had it all. Does that make you feel better?”
He turned the other way.
“Don’t walk away from me! Please don’t go. I’m dying. I don’t want to die alone.” Her voice faltered. “Did you walk away from Hannah?”
He looked over his shoulder at her, muttered something under his breath, then grabbed his things and left her alone to die. In that moment, she didn’t care. She was tired, and the pain wasn’t going away. She only wanted to leave this horrible, ugly place even if she had to die to do it.
FORTY
Jessie glanced at the clock before taking a moment to check her e-mails. Zee and Olivia had just left to take Higgins for a walk around the block. Ben had called thirty minutes ago to let her know he’d talked with Emily’s roommates and checked out the UC Davis campus, but it was a dead end. He was on his way over. Jessie was worried about Ben. When she’d seen him earlier, he’d been quieter than usual, but she hadn’t wanted to question him in front of Owen.
There was one message from Ashley Bale agreeing to meet Jessie Thursday morning at the coffee shop in Midtown.
Perfect.
If Nick Bale was keeping tabs on either one of them, Jessie thought it would be a good idea to meet at a coffee shop instead of her office. Best to keep him in the dark, if possible. Jessie planned to let Ashley know about the conversation she’d had with Rene Steele. She also wanted to tell her that Nick had been following her.
At the moment, though, her priority was finding Emily.
Ben arrived five minutes later. He looked exhausted, bordering on haggard. She ushered him to the kitchen table and poured him a cup of coffee.
When she sat across from him, she said, “What’s going on? I didn’t want to say anything this morning, but you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”
“You are an observant one,” he noted drily.
“I have my moments.”
“Melony is upset with me. She thinks I’m keeping secrets from her.”
“Are you?”
“I don’t tell her everything that pops into my head. If that’s considered keeping secrets, then so be it.”
“You sound frustrated.”
“I am.”
Jessie didn’t want to add to Ben’s frustrations, but there was something she needed to talk to him about, and she couldn’t think of any reason why she should wait. “Colin told me he ran into you recently.”
Ben looked her square in the eye. “What else did he tell you?”
“That you were near Sun City Boulevard in Lincoln, within the vicinity of where DJ Stumm’s bones were found.”
“Your friend doesn’t trust me.”
“No. He said you seemed nervous.”
“What do you know about the case?”
“The DJ Stumm case?”
He nodded.
“I know authorities believe he killed his family. Because of where they found his bones, they have determined that he was killed days later.” She tapped her finger on the tabletop. “I guess now they need to figure out who chopped him up into pieces and buried him.”
“It was me,” Ben said.
Jessie laughed. She set her coffee cup down, saw the expression on his face, and realized he was serious. “What are you saying, Ben?”
“That I killed DJ Stumm. I don’t think I can make it much clearer than that.”
“That man was murdered twelve years ago. You don’t remember anything that happened during that time, so how would you know if you were responsible?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Can you answer me that?”
“After the visit from my sister, I went for a drive. I wanted to clear my head. For the second time in a short period, I found myself in front of the house where DJ Stumm’s remains were found. As I sat there, staring out the window, wondering what had brought me there, I saw a tall man, my height and my build, dragging a limp body around the side of a building. I got out of the car and followed him.”
Ben raked a hand through his hair, and Jessie could tell that what he was telling her was something that pained him.
“When I was finally able to get a clear view of the tall man’s face, I realized it was me.”
Jessie opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her with a raised hand.
“I was the man who brought DJ Stumm’s body to that location, chopped him up with an ax, and tossed him into the hole.”
Jessie rubbed both hands over her face, trying to scrub all the nonsense he’d just told her away. Ben was tired. He didn’t know what he was saying. “You do realize how ridiculous this sounds, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So, would you compare what you saw with having an out-of-body experience?”
“Definitely.”
They were both quiet for a moment while Jessie soaked it all in. “Listen, Ben. You’ve been seeing images of old crime scenes for a while now. What makes this any different?”
“After the man buried the body, he left the shovel on the site and took the ax to the back of his van.”
Jessie did her best to sit quietly and hear him out. “When did this hallucination end?”
“After he put the ax away, everything changed back to present time. All signs of new construction disappeared. The surrounding streets suddenly looked much different. There were a lot more houses, older houses. The trees had matured, and the sidewalks showed signs of wear and tear.”
“What did you do?”
“I rushed to my van and opened up the cargo space. Beneath the spare tire, wrapped in a dirty cloth, was an old bloody ax.” He exhaled. “Melony was right. I haven’t been telling her everything.”
“This is crazy talk.” The worry she saw in his eyes broke her heart. He wasn’t a killer. He was a good man, a family man.
“Early this morning I took a sample of the blood from the ax to a friend who works at a lab,” Ben told her.
“How will you get your hands on a sample of Stumm’s blood?”
“That friend I just mentioned has access to the national database. It’s what he does. This isn’t the first time he’s been asked to do a blood comparison analysis on the side.”
“Does he know where the blood came from?”
“No, and he didn’t ask. He knows I work crime scenes. I should have an answer in the next few days.”
“Even if the ax you’re talking about turns out to be the one used to chop up DJ Stumm, anyone could have put it in the back of your van. According to the story in the paper, you worked that case. It makes sense that you would have been there.”
“Ever since I recognized your sister on TV, things have changed, Jessie.”
“How so?” She could see him struggling to deal with whatever was going on insi
de his head.
“I feel different inside.”
Jessie waited for him to spit it all out and hopefully be done with such nonsense. He was punishing himself for reasons she didn’t know.
“Sometimes I feel cold and emotionless,” he said. “When that sensation comes over me, my toes and fingers go numb, almost as if I’m waking from a long, deep sleep. And it’s as if I’m surrounded by an unnatural silence.”
“But that doesn’t make you a killer.”
Ben was staring straight ahead, his body stiff. “When it happens, the only thing I feel is a need to dominate and control, maybe even a desire for vengeance.”
Jessie swallowed. She didn’t like what she was hearing, didn’t want to admit that in the short time she’d known him he really did seem different. Serious. More intense. “I wonder if your sister was right in trying to protect you from revisiting your past.”
“No,” he said. “I’m not turning back now.” His shoulders relaxed as he met her gaze. “Good or bad, I need to know.” He gestured at all the papers on the table. “But it can wait. Right now, the only thing that matters is finding Emily.”
On the news, after Zee and Ben had left and Olivia had gone to bed, Jessie saw a reporter standing in front of a mansion. There were at least forty people gathered on the street outside the gated property.
It took her a minute to figure out that it was Owen Shepard’s residence. A group of protesters had gathered to demonstrate their objection to DHI’s refusal to cover medications that had been classified as experimental. People held signs behind the reporter that read: AFFORDABLE HEALTH CARE FOR ALL and FIX IT DON’T NIX IT.
The camera zoomed in on a distraught woman holding up a picture of a young man. “Owen Shepard and DHI killed my son, Tyler McDonald.”
Jessie picked up the phone and called Colin.
“Hey there,” he said. “Everything okay?”
She could hear noise in the background. He was still at the station. “I’m fine. It sounds like you’re busy.”
“Yeah, it’s been crazy around here.”
“I just turned on the news and saw the reporters and protestors outside Owen Shepard’s house. Do you know what’s going on?”