by Jon Mills
The clang of the door startled him, forcing him out of a light sleep. Larson walked inside and closed the door behind him.
“What are you doing with Jenna’s cell phone?”
“And hello to you, deputy.”
“Cut the bullshit. Did you steal it from her apartment?”
Jack swung his legs off the bed and leaned forward. “No, I found it hidden inside the toilet tank.”
“But this wasn’t on you when we brought you in.”
Jack chewed on the side of his lip and didn’t reply. His lack of response was the answer.
Larson snorted. “Of course, you went back there.”
“I had to. Deputy, she’s a journalist who is obsessed with the Green Bank Five case. I was convinced she would have kept some record of her work, and I was right. Now if you go through that, you’ll find some interesting information that perhaps your guys have overlooked.”
“I already have.”
“Then you know that time is against us right now. All those women who were taken were kept alive for a period of three days before their bodies were placed in the water. Jenna has been gone for almost three nights. If we don’t find her tonight, chances are she’s dead.”
Larson leaned back against the wall. Jack could see he was chewing it over.
“Look, that call I got the night before I showed up here, came from a pay phone in Green Bank. There is only one pay phone, which means she managed to escape.”
“You still think she’s been taken?”
“Positive. The phone calls in the night, the warning letter and then her last comment to me about how close she was. I don’t think she was just getting close, she knew who it was. Now the last person to see her alive was Meghan Palmer. She went with her to a client’s home in Green Bank. Now if you go through my possessions, you’ll find a scrap of paper with an address. It’s a cabin on the east side near Hamilton Hollow and the North Fork River. I was about to go there but, well… Speak to Meghan, she’ll confirm this.”
He breathed in deeply. “I would but Meghan has vanished.”
Jack’s brow furrowed. “What? I dropped her off at work.”
“I know that’s where she went missing.”
“But…”
The cogs in his mind turned over, faster and faster.
“Did you know Bonnie Ratlin was gone?” Larson asked.
“Meghan mentioned she hadn’t turned up for work.”
“She’s dead. Found her body along with several others out in Watoga State Park. All of them were buried in shallow graves.”
Jack ran a hand over his head unable to process the bombshell he’d just dropped on him.
“It’s Aaron Gance, Jack. We’ve been on to him for a while but haven’t had proof. I finally managed to get a confession out of his brother Merle. The dead women out in Watoga are escorts as well. Chances are he is responsible for the Green Bank Five.” He paused. “That’s why the State Police are involved right now. They’ve set up roadblocks. If that was him in the brown sedan, we’ll get him. As soon as we find him, he’ll be charged with the murders of the Green Bank Five.”
It was coming at him way too fast. First Jenna, now Meghan.
“How long ago was she taken?” Jack asked.
“Five hours, maybe six.”
“Listen, deputy, Meghan said Jenna was acting strange the night she went to see a client out in Green Bank. The client never came to the door. The appointment was canceled. Once she dropped her off, she headed back in that direction.” He let his words hang in the air. “We need to get to that cabin. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that there is a strong possibility that Meghan is there, and maybe, just maybe Jenna.”
Larson stared back at him before heading over to the door.
“So you’ll be dropping the charges now that you have proof?”
“Just hang tight here. I’m going to find that scrap of paper with the address and run a check on it.”
“Larson.”
“Jack, just wait.”
He was flustered. Overwhelmed much like Jack. They were closing in but dealing with fragments of information. The door slammed behind him and Jack headed over and called out to him through the bars. Larson didn’t respond, he took off up a flight of stairs and disappeared out of view.
Larson immediately got on the radio to find out if the State Police had spotted the brown sedan. The response was negative. He figured they dumped the vehicle, took off on foot and headed back to the garage where they would have been able to change into a different vehicle.
“Send a few of your men over to Gance Garage, Hodgkins will give you the address.”
As soon as he got off the radio, he headed into a small room that was used for keeping evidence. It was organized by day. He wandered up the aisle until he found a box containing files with belongings. He retrieved Jack’s and emptied out the contents onto a countertop. There he spotted a scrap of paper.
“Summers. Are you there?” He shouted over his shoulder as he went through what Jack had on him at the time.
“What do you need?”
“Is Merle Gance still here or has he been taken by State Police?”
“No, he’s still down in the holding cell,” a gruff voice replied.
It was a gut instinct; call it a hunch but one that he wanted to follow up on before going through the process of bringing up the details on the owner of the address. If the location had been used as the killing room for the Green Bank Five, chances were if they did own the cabin, it might have been registered in someone else’s name. The Gance brothers were shady in their business dealings; he didn’t expect anything less now. He figured the quickest way to find out was to head down and speak with Merle.
He jogged out of the room and was on his way down when Wallace got on the radio. “State Police are now at the dig site. We’re heading back.”
“No. Stay where you are. They have things covered here. Besides, they probably could use the help and we don’t want State fucking this up. Anyway, any more bodies found?”
“Another four.”
“Any we know?”
“None that we or anyone could recognize. It’s a mess. Pretty much all bones.”
“Shit.”
He continued on towards the cellblock housing Merle.
Chapter 27
From the moment he arrived at the cell, Merle was belligerent. He rolled off his bed and sauntered over to the bars.
“Finally! You assholes gonna let me out of here or what?”
He shook the bars expecting Larson to let him out. Of course, he refused to answer the question, it would only lead to him making things difficult and right now he needed answers. He raised the scrap of paper up in front of the bars.
“You want to tell me who owns this?”
Merle squinted and leaned forward slightly. He smirked. “Not without my glasses.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Merle.” He knew he didn’t wear any.
“Who cares? I want out of here. I fulfilled my end of the deal. Now unless you guys want a civil lawsuit, I suggest you release me.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Then you can go fuck yourself and your address.”
He turned and ambled back to the corner of the room. Sniffing as he went.
“I know what both of you have been doing. You, Aaron, probably Billy and Dale. Now tell me. Did you take them up to the cabin for a little bit of fun, huh? Did they not want to put out so you killed them?”
“I don’t have a clue what you’re on about but you really should seek mental help.”
“Is that where Meghan is? Is it?”
“Again. Don’t know. Don’t care. Now unless you’re going to let me out, we’re done talking.”
He leaned back on his bed and crossed his feet.
“Whose address is this, Merle?”
“Not listening,” he said in the most obnoxious tone.
“You better hope she’s alive,” Larson added befo
re turning to walk away.
“She might be, but your wife won’t.”
“What did you say?” Larson screwed up his face and charged at the cell. He unlocked the door and lunged at Merle. Before he could say another word, Larson lashed out at him and struck him twice in the face with a right hook. “Motherf—”
“Larson.”
Behind him, he heard the sound of heavy soles against the floor. He’d completely ignored the camera angled down at the cell. He’d also lost touch of how long he’d been laying into him. Seconds, maybe minutes? Nothing but rage fueled him, blocking out what common sense should have told him. Ethan burst into the cell along with another officer and hauled him back. Merle’s face was bruised and cut up, he spat blood onto the ground and tried to say something but it just came out as a garbled mess of snot, blood, and spit. Ethan slammed the cell door and locked it.
“What did I tell you?” Ethan bellowed. ”You want to lose your badge?”
Larson shrugged them off. He looked off to his right and saw Winchester looking at him.
Ethan followed his gaze. “Look, I just got word the brown sedan has been found burnt out on the north side of town. K9 is trying to track those guys down but a few leads have come in from witnesses in the area saying they bolted on foot across Old McGee’s Car Lot, heading north.” He pointed towards the exit. “Get out there and help track them down. In the meantime, I’ll handle this and deal with the footage. But you owe me.”
“That’s it, I knew you cops were crooked. Going to wipe the video, are you? Oh, you are all going down for this.”
“Shut up, Merle,” Ethan replied.
Larson scowled at him. All he wanted to do was go back in and finish what he’d started. As he turned away, he wiped his mouth, shot a glance back at Jack and shook the scrap of paper in his hand.
Jack had to admit, he was impressed. Larson was full of spit and vinegar. The kind of man that was liable to do the department a world of good. They needed someone who wasn’t going to take shit. Police work had become nothing but a political game. Avoiding civil lawsuits and bad press. It had made them weak. Perhaps that’s why he got on well with his late friend, New York Police Detective Frank Banfield. Ethan Rigby, on the other hand, was something else. Wiping a recording, seeing escorts, probably some of the same women he’d busted in the past for soliciting. He shook his head.
“Hey, Larson. You said you were going…”
Larson disappeared before he heard him.
Ethan came strolling over. “Keep it down.”
“But…”
“I said…” He bellowed at Jack, pulled his baton out and slapped it along the bars. “Shut the hell up before I come in there.”
“Is he coming back? That’s all I want to know.”
“Not tonight, so get comfy. You’ll get your turn to go before a judge tomorrow.”
Shit, Jack thought as he returned to his seat. This was not how he intended it to play out. If those three guys were somehow connected to the disappearance of both Jenna and Meghan, who knew if they were heading back to the cabin. He needed to get out and fast. Jack began pacing in his cell looking at the clock outside and listening to the sound of Merle’s rant.
“I’m going to sue every last one of you. You better have good lawyers,” Merle yelled before breaking into a string of curse words. There was no shutting him up. Other prisoners yelled and banged on bars to get him to be quiet but he wouldn’t listen. It didn’t take long for Ethan to return, this time he began cracking the metal baton across the bars.
“Enough!”
Merle, however, wouldn’t settle easy. In fact, he only became even more belligerent. Ethan took out his keys and unlocked the cell and rushed in. It was out of view so all Jack could hear was the noise of his beating before Ethan came out, wiping the blood off the baton with a small cloth. That’s when Jack had an idea.
“I bet you like it rough, don’t you?” Jack muttered gripping the bars.
“What did you say?” Ethan eyed him with a look of disgust.
“You know, the women you see. The escorts. Do you beat on them too?”
He stared back at Jack. An expression of shock? It was hard to tell but he had his attention.
He pointed the baton at him with an outstretched arm. “You better watch your mouth.”
“Is that what you told them?
Ethan approached his cell and smacked the baton against the bars. “Don’t make me come in there.”
“I get it now.” Jack nodded. “Yeah, you get off on it. That’s why you go see them. Your girlfriend probably doesn’t let you do the things you want to do, am I right?”
“I warned you.”
He took out the keys and unlocked the door. Jack took a few steps back, readying himself. He was just putting away the keys when Jack spoke.
“Oh, I think you forgot something, officer.” He pointed to the camera.
Ethan snorted. “Don’t worry about that.”
Jack didn’t give a shit about the camera. Whether it saw what he did or not, it didn’t matter. Though he had a feeling that whatever it captured would mysteriously disappear once it was over. Ethan clenched his jaw and came in swinging. As his arm came around with the baton, Jack lunged at him closing the distance. He grabbed his weapon arm and forced it upwards. Ethan let out a high-pitched yell before Jack slammed the side of his hand twice into his throat. On the third time, he grabbed him behind the neck and head butted him as hard as he could. His nose exploded and he dropped to the ground. Jack moved fast, grabbing him by the back of the collar and dragging him out of the cell and out of view of the camera. There was a fifty-fifty chance someone had been watching but with all their resources funneled into the roadblocks and hunt for the three men, he figured he stood a chance. Still, he wasn’t going to take the risk, while Ethan was groaning and writhing around on the floor gripping his nose, he removed his baton and double-timed it over to the stairs, waiting for the next influx of cops. All the while the other prisoners yelled.
“Yeah! Fuck him up! Dirty pig!”
Jack stood off to one side waiting. Sure enough, he heard the sound of boots pounding the steps. “Ethan,” a voice cried out. Before he had a second to respond, Jack was on him. A few sharp blows across the head and the young officer was out cold.
“Let us out,” said a burly man who was dressed in nothing but white pants. Who knew where the hell his shirt was. His gut hung over his dark leather belt like a balloon full of water on the verge of bursting.
“No time.”
“Hey. Hey!”
Jack didn’t waste another second, he unclothed the officer and changed out of his attire and quickly slipped into his uniform. It wasn’t an exact fit but the guy was close to his size, though slightly on the larger end. He tore off the name tag, pulled the police cap down to cover his face as much as possible before heading up the stairs. He hadn’t made it a few steps before he heard Ethan mutter something. Jack turned and noticed he was still conscious. He hurried back.
“Sorry, got to go.”
A few hard kicks to the jaw and it was lights out.
When Meghan came to, her throat was dry and she had the taste of bile in her mouth. Light stabbed her eyes, as her eyelids fluttered. What was in her mouth? Some thick material cut into the sides of her gums. Her wrists hurt, really bad. She tugged a few times and then realized they were bound with cuffs and secured to a metal post. She tried again, another attempt to free herself but it was pointless. Where am I? She’d been in and out of consciousness since… she couldn’t remember. She gazed around at her surroundings. It was some unfinished basement; concrete floors, rough-hewn walls, and a blacked-out window. Someone had painted over it with dark paint, or was it material? She couldn’t tell. She shook her head trying to get her mind to focus. Slowly, her memories came back like a flood. She remembered being dropped off at work by Jack, serving customers for an hour or so, and then having a smoke before… pain, severe pain. That was followed by her mu
scles twitching uncontrollably, and then hitting the ground.
The basement didn’t have any furniture, except for a workbench that had some tools on the side, along with cans of paint. It smelled musty. There were no voices, no sound except — water. She could hear a river or stream. She felt her stomach churn within. Fear gripped her as she came to the realization that she was going to die. This was it. Just like the others.
The only light in the room came from a few small candles. The dim flicker of flames created shadows on the walls making it seem even eerier than it was.
How long had she been here?
It didn’t matter. All that mattered was escaping. Meghan tugged hard on the cuffs that were wrapped around the steel foundation pole. She leaned forward and used her lips and tongue to try and push the gag out of her mouth but it was impossible. It was too tight. She let out a muffled scream. Frustration, anger, fear; all of it rolling into one.
Her head dropped and she closed her eyes, exhaustion overwhelming her. What drug had she been given? She could barely keep her eyes open.
Right then she heard the sound of tires on gravel. A few doors slammed and she heard voices. Male. One, maybe two? It was hard to tell. Was it a neighbor? Help? Or… her captor? She would have screamed a few times to get their attention but the gag in her mouth kept her silent.
Their boots pounded against wooden planks, then a door opened above. In between the cracks of the floor above her, dust fell.
“We need to stay off the grid for a while. Keep our heads down. No one is going to come up here.”