by M. Z. Kelly
After identifying myself and giving Winters some general information, I said, “We’re looking into the background of a woman named Anne Taylor Parker who was a member of your college sorority.”
“Oh, goodness, is she the one whose son is killing those girls?” Winters asked. “I saw something about her on the news, but didn’t make the connection about her being in our sorority until now.”
“Yes, that’s her. What can you tell us about her?”
After a moment of reflection, she said, “Not much, really. Anne was different, kind of reclusive. She didn’t participate in a lot of our activities. I can’t believe that she’s the same woman who was keeping those children captive at that school.”
“Do you remember if she had a boyfriend, or someone she was seeing while in school?”
There was a long pause before she answered. “There was a boy, but I don’t remember his name.”
“What can you tell us about him?”
“I think...yes, now I remember. He was on the debate team. I remember because, on a couple of occasions, he was arguing with the other girls when he came by to pick up Anne, trying to show his superiority.”
I heard the anticipation in my voice as I said, “This is important, Colleen. Try to remember his name.”
“Can you hold on a minute?” she said. “I might have something in a yearbook.” We waited several minutes. I thought maybe the call had been dropped when she finally came back on the line, her voice now animated. “His name was Albert Burke. I was right, he’s listed as a member of the debate team in 1982.”
“Thank you, Colleen. You’ve been a big help.”
“There’s something else I just thought of.”
“What’s that?”
“Anne—maybe it’s nothing, but I remember her saying something that we all laughed about at the time.”
“What was it?”
“It was about royalty.”
“Royalty? Can you explain what you mean?”
“It was something about her family. None of the girls believed her, but she told us her family was originally from England and they had some royal blood.”
FORTY-THREE
Alexander Parker took his time transforming himself into the Angel. The murder of Lauren Collins would be special. Mother was here, and it was his duty to protect her, defend her power. As he applied his makeup, his thoughts drifted back to when he was a boy and spent those long nights in the woods after Mother had given him The Light.
He remembered on one occasion, Mother had found him hiding in some brush one morning. The night had been filled with terror. He was freezing and still afraid of the monsters that had come out of the darkness while under the influence of the drug.
“Tell me what you saw last night,” Mother said after she brought him a blanket and gave him some hot chocolate.
“There were scary things...monsters that wanted to kill me.”
Mother smiled. “What else?”
“There was...” He took a breath. “...a man.”
Mother leaned closer to him, her voice louder than before. “What about him?”
“He was scary. He told me that if I didn’t do what he said, he would kill me.”
Mother held onto his arms, her voice firm and direct. “Listen to me. This man, he is your father. We must keep him away, or he will kill us both.”
“But...but why would Daddy kill us?”
“Because he wants our power. He is evil and must be stopped.”
That conversation was only one of dozens he had with mother about his father over the years. Those conversations had convinced him that his father was eventually coming for them. It was only a matter of time. Each of the girls he killed had been sent by Father to prepare the way for his return. That’s why they had to be stopped. It was the only way to save himself and Mother.
After putting the final touches on his makeup, he affixed the wings to his back. He studied himself in the mirror before making his way into the room where the girl and his mother were waiting. The perfection of imperfection looked back at him.
The Angel found Lauren Collins manacled and lying on a bed. She had spent the last couple hours listening to his mother. This would not be his usual kill. This was special, and he intended to make Mother proud.
“I have come for you,” he said, in a voice that was deep and threatening, after walking over to Lauren. “Did you really think you could take our power, and assume control for Father?”
“What are you talking about?” Lauren said, her voice trembling. She was an attractive young woman, with dark shoulder-length hair like her mother.
“He’s talking about The Realm,” Anne said. “The children were supposed to use The Light and protect me, but they’ve been taken away before the metamorphosis was completed.”
Lauren fixed her eyes on Anne, her thick brows inching together. “Please, none of this makes any sense. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Anne’s voice grew more accusatory. “Tell me something, did you sleep with my husband?”
“No. I don’t even know who he is.”
Anne looked at her son. “She’s lying. He sent her.”
The Angel moved closer to the girl. “Where is my father?”
Lauren shook her head and began sobbing. “I have no idea. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Father could be here at any moment,” the Angel said to his mother.
“Our concern is the girl. Stay focused.”
“I will kill him.”
“Of course you will, but not now.”
Anne looked at their prisoner. “You do realize that he will eventually be defeated and transformed into the Beast.”
Lauren brushed her tears. “What? Who are you talking about?”
“Enough of these games.” Anne looked at her son. “Let’s begin the process and make sure your artwork is seen by the world.”
The Angel walked over and turned on his Internet camera. He then walked back to his victim and said, “It’s time to die, Lauren.”
FORTY-FOUR
“Let’s get with the college, see what they have in the way of records on Albert Burke, then have the bureau staff pull up everything we can on him,” Eva said.
Joe stood and moved to the door. “I’ll go light a fire under some people.”
After he was gone, we discussed the case for several minutes. Olivia had been making some phone calls and scribbling notes. When she ended the calls, she said, “I just pulled up something interesting on Alexander Parker. I called Northwestern Memorial, the hospital where he was born. They have no record of his birth.”
“But he had a state issued birth certificate, indicating he was born there,” I said. “It was in his police background file.”
“Is the hospital sure they don’t have any records?” Eva asked.
Olivia nodded. “Yes, but here’s the interesting part: A couple of weeks after his birthdate, a baby was stolen from the hospital. A police report was filed, but the baby, a boy, was never found.”
“That’s Anne Parker’s MO,” I said. “That’s what she did at her school.”
Eva massaged her temples. “Meaning the child she raised, who became the Angel, is not her son.”
“She probably spent years turning him into the monster he became,” Kinnear chimed in.
“It begs the question, what happened in Anne Parker’s childhood to turn her into a monster?”
“I don’t know, but I do know what happened to Albert Burke,” Joe said, coming through the door.
He took a seat at the table again, as Eva said, “What about him?”
“Burke is dead. He was murdered just before Anne graduated from college. The crime was never solved.”
What Joe said meant that Anne had likely murdered her boyfriend and stolen a baby, but why?
My thoughts were interrupted when John Greer came rushing through the door. “We have something breaking. Agent Collins just called in. She’s fou
nd Parker and his mother. Let’s move.”
FORTY-FIVE
We made our way to a waiting helicopter. After we boarded, and it banked, heading south, Greer said, “We got word the Angel just started streaming video of him and Lauren Collins, telling his audience what he’s going to do to her.”
“Where is Lauren’s mother?” Eva asked.
“She’s at the house, waiting on backup.”
“She can’t wait. We’ve got to tell her what’s happening.”
“We just did. The locals are on their way, as well, but she’s moving in, without backup.”
We got word from the pilot we were about twenty minutes away from the beach house where Lauren Collins was being held. As we flew, I mentioned to Joe what he’d said about Albert Burke. “Do you think Anne murdered him, then stole the baby from the hospital?”
“I didn’t get to finish the rest of my story,” he said, smiling. “The stolen baby’s father was none other than our boy Al.”
“What about the mother?”
“A woman named Loretta Dresden. She committed suicide a couple years later.”
“Let me see if I have this straight,” Eva said, massaging her temples. “Anne is dating Albert Burke. He gets another girl pregnant, so she kills him, and steals his baby.”
Joe nodded. “That’s probably how it went. Annie is quite the girl.”
As the chopper’s rotors cut through the air, and we moved in on our target, what Joe had said helped put some of the pieces of our case together. Anne Parker was obviously insane and living out some kind of bizarre fantasy. It again made me wonder what had happened in her childhood to cause her to spiral into madness.
What Colleen Winters had said about Anne then came to mind. She told us her family was originally from England and they had some royal blood. Was that part of Anne’s delusion? Did she really believe she was royalty, and was acting based upon that belief?
“We’re five out,” John Greer said, interrupting my thoughts. “Let’s lock and load. We just got word the locals are at the house, and shots have been fired.”
FORTY-SIX
“I’m going to start with your face,” Alexander Parker, dressed as the Angel, told his victim. “When I’m through with you, even your own mother won’t recognize you.” He laughed. “Not that it will matter after I’m finished with everything. I’m afraid what’s going to follow will take a couple of hours.”
Anne was sitting in the corner of the room, away from the camera. “Take your time,” she said. “I want her to suffer for her crimes.”
Her son nodded, then brought a knife up to Lauren’s face as she screamed. He said, “If you hold still, this might not hurt as much. Then again, there are no guarantees.”
There was a sudden banging on the door, a woman’s voice calling out. “This is the FBI! Come out with your hands up, NOW!”
Alexander moved quickly, going over to his bag of supplies. He found the Glock 9mm weapon, pointed it at the door, and fired several times, emptying the magazine.
When he stopped firing, he reloaded the weapon and waited several seconds. Then he heard movement from outside the room, other voices.
“Let’s go,” Alexander said, going over and taking his mother’s hand. “They’re coming for us.”
His mother’s voice was high-pitched, bordering on panic. “What are we going to do?”
“Protect your power.”
Alexander and his mother moved quickly, leaving the room via a bathroom that opened into another bedroom. They then moved down a hallway and into the garage, before leaving the residence through a side door.
“Stop right there.”
Alexander and his mother stopped on the driveway, hearing the officers calling out behind them. They froze, as Alexander, still dressed as the Angel, lowered his voice and said, “When I turn, hit the ground.”
Alexander turned quickly, diving behind a trash bin at the same time his mother went to her knees. He unloaded his weapon in the direction of the two sheriff’s deputies. The deputies returned fire, but their rounds missed, hitting pavement and the dumpster. Alexander’s fire cut them down where they stood.
“Let’s go,” Alexander said, taking his mother’s hand again as they heard a helicopter somewhere overhead. They moved down the driveway, where they found the sheriff’s unit. Seconds later, they roared out of the driveway and were moving down the road.
“What are we doing to do?” Anne Parker screamed at her son.
Alexander glanced in her direction and pushed the accelerator to the floor. “We’re going to defend The Realm.”
FORTY-SEVEN
Our chopper set down on the seashore about a hundred yards from the house where Lauren Collins was being held prisoner. We all ran toward the residence with our guns drawn. Joe was the first to see the Angel’s carnage.
“Two of ours down in the driveway.” He went over and checked, finding that both deputies were deceased.
“Let’s check the house,” Greer said.
We found the patio door unlocked and went inside, calling out as we entered.
“We’re in here,” we heard a woman’s voice say from a room somewhere in the back. “We’re clear.”
We found Emma Collins holding her daughter in her arms. Lauren was weeping, but appeared unharmed.
“Where are they?” Joe asked.
Agent Collins took a breath. “Not sure. I heard shots fired a couple minutes ago.”
“Two locals are down.” He regarded them. “You okay?”
“Go.”
When we got back to the driveway, we realized the deceased deputies’ patrol unit had been taken.
“Let’s get back in the air,” Greer said. “They can’t be far away.”
Olivia and I joined Greer, Joe, and Eva in the chopper, leaving the other agents behind to process the crime scene and call the medical examiner. We were in the air less than five minutes when we spotted a sheriff’s unit heading south on an ocean frontage road.
Greer told the pilot, “Let’s get in front of the unit and set down on the road.” He then told the rest of us, “Weapons at the ready. I have a feeling this isn’t going to end well.”
Our chopper circled over the water, then banked, and set down in the road a couple hundred yards from the sheriff’s unit barreling down on our location. We piled out of the helicopter, our guns at the ready, as the vehicle quickly closed on our location. Luckily, the highway appeared deserted, except for the accelerating patrol car.
When the sheriff’s unit got within a hundred yards of us, it began to slow dramatically. It then stopped about fifty yards away from us.
“Let’s hold our positions,” Greer said. “If we move up, we’re nothing but targets.”
We waited several minutes until both doors of the patrol car opened. Two figures got out and began walking slowly in our direction.
“Get on the ground!” Greer yelled.
The couple did as they were instructed, lying down on the pavement. We then moved up, our weapons still at the ready.
We were less than twenty yards from the couple when the man lifted his head and shouted, “Don’t shoot!”
When we got over to them, we realized it was an elderly man and woman lying in the road.
“What the hell happened?” Joe asked them, holstering his weapon.
“They took our car and made us take theirs,” the woman said.
Her husband agreed. “If we didn’t do as they said, they told us we were going to die.”
I exhaled and brushed the hair out of my eyes. The Angel and his insane mother had escaped again. I knew it was only a matter of time until they killed again.
FORTY-EIGHT
We spent the rest of the day and part of the night searching for Alexander and Anne Parker. Despite setting up a search grid with highway checkpoints and air support, they were nowhere to be found. To make matters worse, the press had picked up on the slaying of the two sheriff’s deputies and tied what happened to the Ange
l.
Media satellite vans, helicopters, and looky-loos were out in force, turning the area around Virginia Beach into a circus-like atmosphere. I even overheard a reporter saying that, in some circles, the Angel was being hailed as a superhero on some anti-establishment Internet blogs.
Joe summed up his feelings when the taskforce arrived back in Quantico. “Maybe the Angel flapped his wings and flew away.”
Greer seemed annoyed and told everyone, “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll pick things up in the morning.”
Olivia and I were headed for our rooms when Eva Valdez caught up with us. “I don’t know about you two, but I could use a drink. I’ve got a bottle of Chardonnay in my fridge, if you’d care to join me on my patio for a nightcap.”
Olivia glanced at me, her brows lifting.
I answered for both of us. “After the day we’ve just had, nothing sounds better.”
We took a few minutes to freshen up, then joined Eva on the small patio off her quarters, just before midnight. After serving up the wine, we clinked glasses, and she said, “To better days.”
We sipped our wine and exchanged small talk for a few minutes, Eva telling us that she thought the Angel and his mother were probably already in another state. “My guess is they stole another car, or had one hidden somewhere, and they’re on a backroad.”
Olivia then mentioned what we’d all learned from Anne Parker’s sorority sister about Albert Burke. “Joe’s theory is that Burke got another girl pregnant, Anne killed him, probably out of anger, and stole the baby.”
“Meaning that Alexander Parker isn’t her biological child,” I added.
Eva talked about what Joe had said about the baby’s mother having committed suicide. She then said, “I think we’re still missing something about Anne Parker.”
I glanced at Olivia. “We’ve had the same thought.” I then mentioned what the sorority sister had said about Anne telling the other girls that her family was originally from England and they had some royal blood. “I think it lends further credence to the idea that Anne is living out some kind of crazy fantasy.”