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Deadly Recall

Page 23

by T. R. Ragan


  Almost an hour later, Jessie rang Ashley Bale’s doorbell.

  Relief fell over her when the door opened.

  Ashley did not look pleased to see her. “What are you doing here?” In the living room behind her, Jessie saw a young woman playing with the boys. Ashley stepped out onto the porch, her face pinched.

  “Two minutes of your time,” Jessie said. “That’s all I’m asking.”

  Ashley’s pupils appeared dilated. She wasn’t angry, Jessie realized. She was nervous. “I asked you never to come to my house. You know how my husband feels about my hiring you. Why are you doing this to me?” She looked over Jessie’s shoulder, left to right. “Please go,” she said. “Nick will be home any minute now.”

  “I would not have come if it wasn’t extremely important. You must know that. I have to talk to you.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Leave or I’ll call the police.”

  “I found her,” Jessie said.

  Ashley wobbled slightly before placing a hand on the side of the house to catch her balance. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I have no reason to lie to you, and you know it. Come with me,” Jessie said, gesturing toward her car. “I’ll show you.”

  Ashley hesitated.

  “If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you have no desire to see your daughter or learn what happened all those years ago,” Jessie said, “I promise I will walk away right now, and we’ll never talk again.”

  “Are you still adamant that this has something to do with Nick?”

  God. Why wouldn’t this woman listen? “I don’t know. I thought we could find out together.”

  Ashley rubbed the back of her neck and then finally nodded. “I’ll be right there. I need to tell the nanny I’ll be going out.”

  The ride back to Colfax felt interminably long, filled with awkward silence. Ashley appeared to be on the verge of having a mental breakdown. It wasn’t until they arrived in front of Wendy’s house that Ashley spoke. “Where are we?” she wanted to know.

  Jessie pointed to the white house across the street. “That log cabin, the one with the bright flowers in the planter box, is where Nick’s cousin Wendy Battstel lives.”

  Ashley shook her head. “It can’t be.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Nick’s cousin Wendy is a drug addict living in the Midwest somewhere.”

  “When was the last time you talked to Wendy?”

  “We don’t talk. After Dakota was taken, the police interviewed Wendy multiple times. She was already a little wacko by then, and she told Nick she was afraid of me. She said I didn’t trust her, which was true to some extent. Hell, I didn’t trust anyone at the time. Before Dakota was taken, I guess I thought we were friends. But then she moved and cut Nick and me out of her life completely.” She grew quiet for a moment. “Dakota’s abduction changed everything. I had to let more than a few relationships go.”

  Jessie stared at the house. She needed to find a way to get Ashley to come to the door with her.

  “I don’t know what sort of crazy-ass goose chase you’re taking me on, but I’d like to go home. I never should have come with you.”

  “Your daughter is inside that house. I saw her.”

  “That’s not possible,” Ashley said. “It’s not her.”

  Jessie opened the car door.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We’ve driven all this way. The least you can do is come to the door with me. If it’s not Wendy, I’ll make up a story about being a Realtor. I’ll tell her we made a mistake, and then we’ll leave.”

  A long stretch of silence followed before Ashley muttered an expletive under her breath. She opened the passenger door and climbed out.

  Side by side, they walked to the front door. Jessie rang the doorbell.

  “Come back here!” a woman shouted from inside the house. “Don’t open that—”

  When the door opened, the same little girl Jessie had seen earlier stood inside looking at them curiously.

  Ashley’s face paled as she stared at the girl. She looked past the child at the woman rushing forward. “Wendy?”

  “What are you doing here?” Wendy looked from Ashley to Jessie. “I know you. You’re the one I talked to in the parking lot.”

  Jessie nodded. “We’re here to talk to you about Elizabeth.”

  “How do you know my older daughter’s name? Who told you where I live?” Wendy took a gentle hold of Elizabeth’s arm and said, “Take your little sister and go to your room.”

  “But we didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Go now,” Wendy said. “Or no playdate this week.”

  Jessie looked at Ashley and watched how intently she observed Elizabeth as she stomped off. Ashley stepped over the threshold and into the house.

  “You can’t come inside,” Wendy said, her voice low and gruff.

  Ashley wasn’t listening. Her focus seemed to be directed on the house—the furniture and decor.

  Wendy followed her closely. Every time she reached out to grab Ashley’s arm, Ashley shrugged her off and gave her an icy look.

  “What are you doing?” Wendy asked. “You both need to leave.”

  Jessie and Wendy both watched Ashley walk slowly around the living room. Jessie had thought Ashley would become overwhelmed with emotion when she saw her daughter, but that wasn’t the case. It was obvious to Jessie that Ashley was numb with shock. Something inside her was stopping her from believing that it could be true.

  And that something was Nick Bale.

  It was as if she couldn’t comprehend the possibility that for all this time her daughter had lived only an hour away. Ashley had trusted Nick. To the point of being blind when it came to Dakota’s abduction.

  Ashley glanced at the pictures lined up on the mantel and then made her way to the kitchen. As if in a trance, and moving at a snail’s pace, she studied the drawings and school papers held to the refrigerator with magnets. She even went so far as to open the refrigerator, pull out a Disney lunch box, and sort through its contents.

  Wendy didn’t try to stop her. Nor did she attempt to call the police.

  Ashley found a scrapbook. She carried it to the couch, sat down, and began turning the pages. Finally, she looked at Wendy. “Dakota has been here all this time?”

  Wendy merely nodded.

  The front door opened and then slammed shut, startling all three of them. Nick Bale marched into the living room. His eyes narrowed as he looked at each one of them. Sweat covered his brow.

  Jessie had kept an eye out on the drive over. She’d never seen his car in her rearview mirror.

  “Where are the kids?” he asked Wendy.

  “They’re in their room. Keep your voice down.”

  “What’s going on here?” he asked.

  Wendy raised her hands. “I’d like to know the same thing. Maybe you should ask your wife?”

  He looked at Jessie before his gaze settled on Ashley. “I told you to leave it alone. I asked you not to hire a private investigator, but you went behind my back and did it anyhow.”

  Ashley looked at her husband with pleading eyes. “Dakota is here! I don’t know what to think. Please tell me you had nothing to do with this.”

  “You never should have come here.” He reached behind him and pulled a gun from his waistband.

  “Put that away,” Wendy said, her voice firm.

  Jessie assessed the situation. The children were her first priority. The only way to get to their room was the hallway behind Nick.

  Ashley put the picture album aside and came to her feet. “Nick. Stop this nonsense. What are you doing?”

  He raised his weapon, his hands steady as he pointed the barrel of the gun at her. “You should have listened when I told you it was time to move on. But you never listen, do you?”

  “You need to calm down,” Wendy told Nick. “I do not want you to scare the children.”

  Ashley’s face twisted in pain. “Did you
know your cousin was raising our daughter?”

  “Wendy has done a fabulous job with the girls.”

  Ashley turned her attention to Wendy. “I don’t understand. Nick told me you were a drug addict and that you had moved to the Midwest.”

  “He told me you were depressed and incapable of taking care of a child.” Wendy put a hand to her heart. “I didn’t think it was a good idea to take Dakota. Not at first. But he convinced me you weren’t well.”

  “How could you let him hand over my child to you?”

  “The awful things he said about you. I believed every word.”

  “What about the police and the FBI?” Ashley asked in disbelief. “They talked to you on more than one occasion. This makes no sense.”

  Wendy rubbed her temple. “For the first six months, someone else raised Dakota.”

  Ashley turned away in horror, her attention back on Nick. “Tell me the truth. Are you the one who took Dakota that night?”

  He said nothing, but the smirk on his face was telling enough.

  Ashley pointed an accusing finger at him. “How could you give away our baby?”

  Nick’s face morphed into a maze of deep lines and jagged crevices. “Because she’s not mine!”

  Ashley blushed. “What are you talking about?”

  Jessie stomach turned as she recalled what Rose Helg had said about Ashley’s rumored affair.

  “Was it my face you saw when you were making love to another man?” Nick asked her.

  “You’re talking nonsense,” Ashley said, her voice calmer than before.

  His smile twisted. “Is he the one you think about when we climb into bed each night?”

  Jessie thought about lunging for his gun, but she was too far away. He could easily get a shot off before she reached him. They needed him to calm down. “Nick,” she said. “Don’t do this. Think about the children. Put away your gun.”

  “This is crazy.” Ashley pulled her phone from her pocket. “I’m calling the police.”

  Nick lifted his gun, then aimed and fired. A shot rang out, piercing Jessie’s eardrums as Ashley wilted to the floor.

  Wendy turned and ran, disappearing down the hallway.

  Jessie stood still as her gaze swept over the room, looking for something she could use as a weapon. Lamps, vase, decorative elephant with trunk raised toward the sky.

  Hovered over Ashley, Nick asked, “How could you? Doug Jenkins was my best friend.”

  Wincing in pain, Ashley clutched her stomach. “It was wrong,” she said through gritted teeth. “A horrible mistake. We never saw each other after that night.” The color had drained from her face. “That’s why you gave our baby to your cousin?”

  “Dakota isn’t mine,” he said.

  Jessie was running out of time. She took slow, tentative steps toward the iron elephant.

  “That’s a lie,” Ashley told him.

  “I’ve had DNA tests done. She’s not mine. Doug is her father.” He pointed the gun at Ashley’s head. “You’re mine. In life and death you’ll always be mine.”

  Now or never. Jessie grabbed the elephant by the tusks and swung hard, hitting Nick square in the shoulder. He stumbled and fell to one knee. His gun slid across the floor.

  Jessie got to the gun first, grabbed it, and pivoted, keeping Nick in her line of sight. “You killed Rene Steele.”

  “I warned her not to talk.”

  He lunged for Jessie, but she was able to maneuver so that the dining room table was between them.

  Nick did a quick two-step. “I was a loyal and loving husband. I did everything I could to make Ashley happy. I’m not going to jail.”

  Across from where Jessie stood, Wendy returned, holding a gun. “It’s over, Nick. You’ve done enough harm.”

  He whipped around so that he was facing his cousin. “Take the kids and go, Wendy. This has nothing to do with you.”

  She shook her head. “It has everything to do with me. When your mother was drunk on the floor, I was the one who took care of you. I’ve always protected you, Nick. But you’ve gone too far.”

  “I paid for this house! I made sure you and the girls had food on the table. And this is how you repay me?”

  Jessie stepped to her right. If she could shoot him in the leg, they would be able to subdue him until the police arrived.

  “You lied to me,” Wendy said. “You lied to all of us. It ends now.”

  The low growl coming from his throat as he rushed toward his cousin was a sound Jessie would not soon forget.

  Another shot rang out.

  Nick’s body twitched as he fell backward. Flat on his back, his eyes wide-open, he didn’t appear to be breathing.

  Jessie wanted to get the kids out of the house, but first she needed to make sure Nick was incapable of harming anyone else. Looking down at him, she saw that Wendy had made a clean shot through his chest. She reached for her phone and called 9-1-1. As she talked to the operator, she saw that Wendy had disappeared from the room and Ashley wasn’t moving.

  Finished with the call, she ran to the kitchen for a towel, anything to stop the bleeding, and then rushed back to Ashley’s side. There was blood everywhere. Thick red blood. Oozing and dripping. Puddles of it. She felt dizzy and weak.

  Shit.

  Her insides did somersaults.

  Ashley was her responsibility. She could not die. With no time to waste, Jessie ripped open Ashley’s shirt and used the towel to put pressure on the hole in her side.

  Just breathe, Jessie told herself. But it was easier said than done. She was so very light-headed. “Hold this,” she said, praying Ashley could hear her as she placed Ashley’s hand firmly over the towel. She then pushed herself to her feet, relieved to see Wendy reappear. “Make sure she keeps pressure on the wound until help arrives.” The last word came out in a rush before she fell backward onto the couch, and the room and everyone in it disappeared completely.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Ben didn’t bother returning home. Instead he kept an eye on the house set close to the freeway. It was getting dark. There was a light on in the kitchen, and he could see Abigail’s coach moving around inside.

  He had a missed call from Jessie. He called her back. She didn’t pick up.

  As he watched the house, he replayed everything that had happened on the soccer field over and over in his head. But he just couldn’t see how this was his fault. As far as he was concerned, he had not overreacted.

  Why couldn’t any of the other parents see what had been right before their eyes for weeks now? The man was too touchy-feely with all their daughters. A quick tap on the shoulder to put a player in a game was one thing, but massaging and kneading while in a huddle was too much.

  He’d given the man a warning.

  But judging by the look Ben had gotten from the coach after that other parent had helped him to his feet, it was clear that the coach wasn’t going to change.

  Ben had looked into the eyes of evil. He knew how people like the coach worked. They felt entitled. They felt no remorse. The average child molester would offend two to four hundred times before he was caught, if ever. Many of them began molesting in their teens. Most were sexually abused as children. Kids were told to respect and obey adults, making them easy targets. They sought out shy and naive children and then built them up and made them feel valued.

  The thought of the coach’s hands on Abigail was too much.

  He opened the van door at the same time his phone buzzed. He stayed seated and picked up the call. “Hello.”

  “Ben, it’s Steve Konkoly. The results from the blood sample you brought in just came in. I thought you’d want to know that you were right. It’s a match.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Ben took in a breath.

  “Are you there?”

  “Yes. Thanks for calling.”

  “Want me to send the report to you or the police?”

  Ben rubbed a hand over his head. “Send i
t to me. Thanks.”

  “No problem. Take care.”

  “Yeah. You, too.”

  Ben looked back at the coach’s house. The kitchen light went out.

  Molesters were master manipulators. And they were patient.

  And so was Ben.

  “I’ll be back,” Ben said. “You can count on it.”

  Jessie stood when she saw the doctor coming her way.

  “She’ll be here for a while, but she was lucky,” the doctor said. “No arteries or major internal organs were affected.”

  “That’s good news. Thank you.”

  “If you’re hoping to see her, you might want to go home and get some rest. Ashley will be in the recovery room for a few hours at least.”

  Once the doctor left, Jessie plopped back down in the chair to gather her thoughts. She’d been in touch with Ashley’s parents. They had been contacted by the nanny and would take care of the boys as long as they needed to.

  Wendy Battstel had been taken into custody. Both girls would stay in a temporary shelter run by Social Services while she was away and until they figured everything out.

  It was hard to believe she’d found Dakota Bale.

  The whole situation was fucked up.

  She’d envisioned a completely different outcome. If and when she found Dakota Bale, she’d pictured herself bringing the young girl home to a loving mother and father.

  Leaning forward, elbows propped on knees, face resting in the palm of her hands, she was having a difficult time coming to terms with everything that had happened.

  How was she supposed to feel about Ashley losing her husband after learning he’d betrayed her in the worst way possible? She took a breath as she sat up. She could only hope that Ashley found a way to pull the pieces together so she could give all her kids a decent life at home.

  Nick Bale had manipulated Wendy and Ashley. How had that happened? Was it a form of brainwashing? She almost felt guilty for solving the case. Maybe everyone would have been better off if she’d never found Dakota. Was living lies a better option?

  No. It was Ashley’s right to know the truth.

  It was time to get moving. She needed to go home, take a long, hot shower, and go to sleep and hope everything looked a little different, a little better, in the morning.

 

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