Cold Threat
Page 13
The officer moved aside as the photographer came closer with the camera already poised and ready. Ellie hung back as pictures were taken from every angle, holding her breath as she struggled to control her excitement.
When the photographer was finished, she motioned Tom and Officer Patton over to examine the remains with her. When Officer Patton stepped back, before Tom said a word, Ellie knew the bone wasn’t an animal’s.
“This is a human pelvis,” Tom said.
Officer Patton nodded his agreement. “That root isn’t much thicker than a water hose. It won’t take long to get it out of there.” He dug through the small pack on his belt and pulled out a tool that looked like a large pocketknife. When he flipped it open, the blade was about six inches long with serrated teeth.
Tom held the bone out of the way while Officer Patton slowly cut away at the root. Carefully, he tugged until the space was wide enough to slide the pelvic bone free.
Ellie’s pulse quickened, excitement swelling in her chest. “Is there any way to tell what gender it’s from?”
Tom squinted at the bone. “Male iliac crests are normally higher than females, causing their false pelvis to look taller and more narrow. Based on that, I’d say this is from a male victim.”
Ellie’s hopes were dashed. “Was our John Doe missing a pelvic bone?”
Tom shrugged, his gloved hands slipping the bone into an evidence bag. “I wasn’t involved in that case, and I only got a chance to glance at Dr. Faizal’s notes before I came out.” He sealed the bag before handing it to Ellie. “I’m sure Dr. Faizal can give you a definitive answer.”
“Thanks.” She took the evidence bag to the table where Fortis was sitting, making notes on the grid. She opened a trunk that resembled a large cooler and stored the bag with the other evidence they’d collected.
“We should be wrapping up soon. It’s after lunch and most of the grids have been cleared.” Fortis gestured to the evidence trunk where she’d stashed the bone. “That looks promising.”
She frowned. “It’s a male pelvis.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I was hoping we’d find Valerie or something that would point in her direction out here.”
“So was I.” His voice had softened. “It was a good lead, Kline. But that’s the way this detective thing goes sometimes. You can do all the right things and still come up dry.” He nodded toward the group of officers heading their way. “That’s the last of them. It’s time to head back and see if what we did find leads us anywhere. I’ll ask Dr. Faizal to put a rush on it if you need me to.”
She shook her head. “Dr. Faizal knows we’re giving this case top priority. I’m sure she’ll send everything over as soon as she’s done.”
“Good. Take the afternoon off, and I’ll see you at the office tomorrow. Don’t let it get you down, Kline. I know you’ll figure this case out.”
“Thank you.” She nodded, but as she walked away, she couldn’t help but wonder if It would be possible to solve this case.
Maybe Jones gave up with good reason. Sometimes, you had to know when to quit.
But even as she drove away, feeling less optimistic than she had that morning, she knew she couldn’t give up. Valerie and Ben deserved better.
She was going to make sure their murderer paid for taking their lives.
Instead of going home, she drove back to the office, stopping in a drive-through and eating lunch flopped in her desk chair, her legs tucked under her, staring at the notes she’d taken at Bartlett Woods.
Even when Jillian came in and Sam waved her tail frantically before crawling under her owner’s desk, Ellie didn’t move. “How did the search go?” Jillian took a bite of the sandwich she’d brought back to her desk and a swig of her water. “Did you get a chance to eat lunch?”
Ellie nodded. “I did, thanks for asking.”
“You look beat.”
“I’m exhausted.” Ellie stretched her arms over her head, not having realized she’d entered a trancelike state until Jillian walked in. “And if Valerie Price was ever out there, I’m starting to wonder if we’ll find a trace of her.”
“One step forward and two steps back.”
“Exactly,” Ellie muttered. “What about you?”
Jillian shook her head. “I spent the morning cataloging file boxes for Detective Riley’s double homicide. I finished right before I went to grab lunch.”
“It’s three o’clock.”
Jillian rolled her eyes dramatically. “I know. It would’ve gone much faster if Riley could’ve been bothered to help, but apparently, I’m also his personal assistant as well as the evidence clerk.” She gestured to a sticky note on her desk. “He gave me instructions with the case number and asked for ‘all the boxes.’”
“Wow.” Ellie scoffed. “What an ass.”
“He’s not the only one who acts like I’m just sitting here twiddling my thumbs until someone brings me something to do.”
“Ridiculous.”
Jillian frowned as she dug through some papers on her desk. “I do have some good news potentially.” She handed Ellie a printout.
Ellie had nearly forgotten that she’d asked Jillian to run the info on the Coggins case through Entity before the weekend. And it looked like she’d gotten a hit. If it panned out, it seemed like she had a name for the deceased. Fortis would be happy. “This is wonderful, Jillian. Thank you so much. And be sure to thank your friend who invented Entity.”
Jillian shot her a smile, her red lipstick barely even affected by eating a sandwich. “That’s not all. I did manage to put the new photo of yourself you gave me through Entity.”
Ellie stiffened at her friend’s tone. “When you say it that way, it doesn’t sound promising.”
“Aside from the dozen or so creepy fans who posted about you and other wealthy teenagers in the public eye, no.” She shuddered. “And almost all of those posts ended shortly after you turned eighteen.”
Ellie grimaced, not even wanting to know what had been posted. “Nothing else, though?”
“Not until I can dive deeper into the depths of darkness.”
Ellie raised one finger and laughed. “You’ll have access soon enough. At least, that’s what Fortis told me. He said they’re working on it.”
“That could take all year, but it’s better than a no.” Jillian turned back to her computer and typed in a command. “But so far, I’ve found a lot on Valerie Price.”
That got Ellie’s attention. “So far?”
“Entity is still running.”
Ellie rolled her chair over to Jillian’s desk, checking out the file on the computer screen. “That’s a lot of online presence.”
“Valerie made up for Ben’s lack of social media.”
“Are all those pictures from her accounts?”
Jillian shook her head. “I went through and removed all the hits from her personal photos first and put them in a folder. That’s what I was doing when Riley barged in. I have another file folder that has the photos I’ve already gone through. And this is all the posts that I have left to sort.”
“Wow.”
“I know. A few of them are friends who posted group photos and tagged her, some are from people taking pictures when they’re out and about with Valerie there and not tagged.”
“What’s this?” Ellie pointed to an icon that resembled a stylized version of a digital calendar.
“That is going to blow your mind.” Jillian clicked on the icon. “I set Entity up to generate a personal history before I left to grab lunch, which is why I’m eating at my desk. This is a log of everywhere Valerie was photographed.” She clicked on January first, two years ago. “You can see on the map that she started her day with yoga, after which she went to the grocery store before catching a ride to Ben’s house. Every time Entity logs a photo, if the person who took it has their location settings active on their phone, it’s embedded in the digital file.”
“And if it’s not?”
As they talked, green dates and times popped up on the calendar. “So, the green ones are…?”
“Location verified by embedded information.”
“And Entity is still searching?”
“Yes. What you’re seeing now was compiled in a little under an hour. As new results come in, they’re populated on the calendar.”
“That’s crazy.” The program was a game changer, and one Ellie didn’t want to do without ever, if she could help it.
“It only shows five years at a time, but you can scroll until the timeframe you want is on the screen.”
“This is fascinating. So, this is the two years leading up until now.” Ellie pointed at the screen as Jillian scrolled downward. “Plus, the three years prior to her disappearance.”
“Yep.”
“And she just disappears on January first, and there’s nothing from her after that for two years.”
“Not only that, if you track the months before her disappearance, you can see how her activities changed when she met Ben.” She and Jillian shared a look, sick at heart for the two lovebirds, both turning back to the computer with renewed determination.
Entity continued filling in details, adding more locations, and linking pictures to the date. Ellie took over the mouse and switched places with Jillian. She was jotting down notes and combing through the last six months of Valerie’s movements when red letters popped up on the screen. Ellie stopped and turned to Jillian. “What does red mean?”
“Limited information.”
“Jillian, it’s from four months ago. Is it possible the date is off?”
Jillian shook her head. “Not possible.” She tapped her red lip with her index finger, clearly thinking. “Unless it’s a hard copy of the photo that was scanned, then the date will be for the creation of the digital file.”
“So, if I scan a file of my great grandmother, Entity would put her at Charleston PD today?”
“Exactly.”
Ellie clicked on the link and waited as the file loaded onto the computer. When it did, Ellie’s heart started racing, and her mouth went dry. “Jillian, I don’t think that’s what happened here. This is a recent picture. Look at how long her hair is compared to the other pictures.”
“Holy shit.” Jillian snagged the mouse from Ellie’s grasp and right-clicked. A text box opened up, listing every shred of available information on the photo. “No location.” Jillian’s shoulders sagged.
“Can we see who posted it?”
“We can, but it’s anonymous. It’s going to take me a few minutes to see if I can connect the dots.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard, red lips pursed in concentration.
“Can you print the picture?”
Jillian nodded, intent on the computer screen.
The printer kicked on, and Valerie’s misery spread up the page. From the bright white socks on her feet, all the way to her neat braid, the tip flung over her shoulder.
“Her eyes look dead.” Ellie gazed at the picture as she removed it from the printer. “The sparkle is just gone.” She ran a finger across Valerie’s forehead. “What did they do to you?”
Jillian mumbled to herself without acknowledging what Ellie had said. Her back was rigid, fingers striking the keys rapid-fire as she followed the anonymous post through the web. A quick breath hissed through Jillian’s clenched teeth, and she paused mid-keystroke. “Got him!” she exclaimed. “Arthur Fink. Here’s his address.”
Ellie wrote it down before grabbing her keys and messenger bag.
“Wait, Ellie, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to pay Mr. Fink a visit.” Ellie gave her a tight smile, the address in her hand making her fingers itch. “Want to come?”
“Of course, I do. But what about Sam?”
“We’ll drop her off at my place. It’s on the way.”
“All right.” She shut down her computer and grabbed Sam’s leash. “Let’s nail this guy and find out if Valerie Price is still alive.”
14
Arthur Fink’s home was in a quiet, well-kept neighborhood with an unmanned guard shack at the entrance. A sign in the shack’s window informed them that a guard was on duty Monday through Friday from six p.m. until six a.m. Otherwise, the gates would be open.
Scoffing, Jillian said, “What good is a guard if you’re going to announce when the houses are unprotected?”
Ellie shrugged. “It beats having to tell some guard why we’re asking for entrance without a warrant.”
“Lucky for us.”
“Hopefully, it’s lucky for Valerie too.” Ellie winded her way through the streets, waving at the people who raised a hand in greeting as they were arriving home from work.
“We fit in.”
“An Audi Q3 doesn’t usually scream ‘cop.’” She turned down Sea Swept Lane and noted the dead-end sign. “Wanna bet he’s got the lot at the end?”
“No, because you’d win that bet.”
“There it is.” Ellie pointed at a two-story house painted a bland shade of cream. Wooden storm shutters were stained dark to match the deep brown paint on the door and trim. “Right there, at the end of the road, with ample distance between him and his neighbors on either side. Fourteen fifty-five Sea Swept Lane.”
“It’s not as large as I expected.”
“It might extend back instead of to the side. From the road, it would look just like any other house.”
Jillian shuddered. “It’s kind of creepy. So plain and normal looking.”
“The house is set really far back, which allows for even more privacy. If you want to keep a woman hostage, that kind of setup is a good place to do it.”
“But for two years?”
“There was a man up north who held four women hostage for almost a decade before he was caught, and not one person in his neighborhood suspected a thing. He’s not the only one, so it’s possible. You just never know what kind of monster is hiding behind a friendly smile.” Ellie parked in the driveway and turned to Jillian. “Just follow my lead.”
“Got it.”
They were almost up the front steps when the door was opened by a short, slender man with tightly curled black hair that clung close to his scalp, and what looked like the start of a black eye. Ellie smiled at him, but he was focused on Jillian, his tongue practically hanging from his mouth.
“Hello, my pretty. My name is Arthur Fink.” He extended his hand toward Jillian with an appreciative glance down to her toes and back. “I don’t know what you’re selling, but I’ll buy them all and order a dozen more.”
Ellie caught her jaw before it dropped, but Jillian batted her eyelashes on cue, taking the man’s hand in a delicate handshake. He’s freaking bold, Ellie thought as he flirted openly with her friend. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what about her blonde-haired, hazel-eyed petite friend had Arthur crooning like a lounge singer, but with his guard down, they had a clear advantage.
“Would you like to come in?” His eyes snapped to Ellie. “And your friend too, of course.”
She watched as Jillian caught her lip between her teeth, her uncertain expression so convincing that Ellie almost fell for it.
“Don’t worry,” Arthur assured Jillian, completely ignoring Ellie. “I’m not one of those crazy perverts. I just want to see what you’re selling, and it’s too chilly out here to leave you standing on the porch like complete strangers.”
He stepped back into the foyer and waited.
Still playing the part, Jillian lifted an eyebrow at her, to which Ellie shrugged one shoulder. Giving Arthur a shy smile, Jillian stepped forward, but Ellie moved fast, sliding through the doorway before her.
Arthur’s lips went tight, but he didn’t comment.
The thought barreled into Ellie. He was going to close the door and lock me
out.
From the startled expression on Jillian’s face, she knew Jillian was thinking the very same thing. Arthur Fink only had eyes for the petite blonde, and Ellie was just in his way.
They followed him, Jillian a few steps behind her. Ellie kept her hand on the weapon hidden beneath her jacket, her eyes following Arthur Fink’s every movement.
“I guess I should ask what you’re selling, though I wasn’t joking about buying it all.” Arthur led them from the foyer and down a wide, well-lit hallway with several framed paintings on the walls. Like the exterior, the walls were an unremarkable off-white. There wasn’t a single picture of family or friends. Turning as he walked, his gaze measured Jillian’s waist as he continued, “It doesn’t matter what it is. I can afford to buy anything I want.”
His statement sent a shiver up Ellie’s spine. “Actually, we’re not selling anything.” Ellie pulled out her badge. “We’re just in the neighborhood asking about a missing woman.”
He stopped abruptly and turned, the slight flare in his nostrils the only sign he was nervous. “I haven’t heard of anyone missing recently, so I can’t help you.” His eyes moved to his left as he spoke. He caught himself quickly, but not before Ellie noticed the subtle eye movement. “I hope you find her.”
“There hasn’t been anything in the news about it.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “You might know something and not realize it.”
“Then how can I know what I don’t know that I know?” Arthur’s laugh made Ellie’s skin crawl. “Say that fast three times.”
They entered the living room, and Ellie strolled about, scanning the room decorated in a drab palette of browns and beiges. On one side of the space, a large flat screen hung on the wall across from a dark brown leather sectional. Art, with no particular theme, was hung at regular intervals throughout, as if Arthur Fink had grabbed a dozen paintings from a trade show without considering whether they would go well together.