Profiled

by Renee Andrews

“And is it that girl you’ve been talking about in your stories? Hannah Sharp? I don’t know any Sharps, but I heard some folks talking at church Sunday morning who knew a thing or two about them. Said they’re, well, kind of odd. You know, some of those folks who keep to themselves, stay a ways out from town and kind of live off the land. Used to be a lot of that type around here, when that Fellowship was so popular, but you don’t hear much about them anymore.”

  Her mention of the cult piqued Lexie’s interest. “Melody, did you know anyone who belonged to the Fellowship?”

  “Nah, Charles and I moved here in the early 90’s. It was all pretty much a done deal by then, but I’ve heard folks talk about it.” She pulled her glasses up and settled them on her nose. “Kind of glad I wasn’t around for all of that. Pretty spooky stuff, if you ask me. To think, you’d cast a teenager out if they got pregnant? What good does that do? That’s the time they need family the most. That just ain’t fitting. And it ain’t very religious-like either, if they kept saying they were into religion and all.”

  “I agree.”

  “Mrs. Harper, I need to speak to Ms. McCain for a moment.” Paul Kingsley towered above Melody in her chair. “And have you already finished your pieces for the day?”

  Melody’s face turned a brilliant purplish-red. “I was just leaving.” She pressed her heels down, then turned her head before backing up. “Sorry. Excuse me.”

  He stepped out of her way, then frowned at her as she rolled back to her cubicle.

  Lexie looked up at her boss. “You got the copy for tonight’s story?”

  “Yes. It’s fine, unless they find those bodies. If they do, then we’ll want to do a quick update, but you can email that from home and let the anchors provide the update on your behalf. I want you to stay in touch with the authorities until the last minute for submission, so we can have the jump on the other stations with the story if it breaks.”

  “I plan on it.”

  “And what about the segment on Abby Tucker?”

  “I’m supposed to interview John later today. We were about to go over it earlier, but he went with the other task force members to the place where they believe the bodies may be buried.”

  His brows lifted. “Tucker went back to the gathering grounds?”

  Lexie nodded. “Captain Pierce wanted all of them to go and be involved in the search. Why wouldn’t he go?”

  “He never returned. After the group disintegrated and then his father died, he didn’t want any reminders. I guess I figured he’d still be determined to stay away.”

  “Did anyone go back there after they stopped meeting?”

  “A few people who weren’t ready for it to end. They met a few times, but they were pretty disappointed in the numbers that showed, so they gave up. I guess you could call them the true diehard Fellowshippers.” He crossed his arms, leaned against her cubicle wall. “But John wasn’t one of them. He swore he’d never go back. Guess it seems odd he’s going now. But then again, that’s his job, isn’t it?”

  “The killer would have been one of those people who went back. Can you remember who tried to keep the group going?”

  “No. I wasn’t a part of it.” The reporter in Lexie said he knew more, but his face remained set, so he’d decided the topic wasn’t up for additional discussion. She made a mental note to ask John about it later. The names of those “diehard Fellowshippers” as Paul called them would be of interest to the task force.

  “You know, if John is too involved with finding those bodies and you need to talk to someone who knew Abby, you could interview me. We were all friends in high school, and then we hung out together when we were married as well. Kathleen, my ex-wife, and Abby were good friends. And I believe I knew Abby well enough to give our viewers a true depiction of her. She was a special lady, and we want to portray her that way.”

  “Yeah, we do.” John walked up to stand beside Paul, “But I’m here now, and I’ll be able to help you with the story, Lexie. Thanks for offering to help, though,” he said to Paul. “You’re right. You did know her well, and she thought a lot of you.”

  Paul smiled. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I didn’t expect you back so soon.” Lexie noticed John looked stressed and suspected why. “Did they find anything?”

  “Yeah, they did.”

  “They found them?” Paul asked. “Hannah and Logan?”

  “The team has uncovered two bodies, and they appear to be Hannah and Logan. I didn’t realize you knew we were looking for both of them.”

  Paul lifted a sheet of paper in his hand. “Lexie’s copy for tonight said you believed they would be together.”

  John nodded. “Right. Well, they were. Or at least Hannah. We believe it’s Logan Finley’s body buried with her, but they’re still verifying that.”

  “Where were they? Exactly?” Paul’s head shook as he asked the question.

  “Buried deep, right in the center of the meeting grounds.”

  “Beneath the altar?”

  “Where the altar used to be. Now it’s just a flat patch of earth. But that’s where they were.”

  “How do you know it’s Hannah?” Lexie asked.

  “Her locket, it was still intact. They’ll have to do the typical autopsy tests for verification, but I’m betting that locket says it all.”

  “The one with her initials? H.E.S., right, for Hannah Elizabeth Sharp?”

  “Right.” John looked surprised. “You have a good memory. I didn’t remember it at first.”

  “She loved that locket. Her parents didn’t give her a lot of nice things, so she took care of the necklace. One of her boyfriends gave it to her, I think. But I can’t remember which one.”

  John ran a hand through his thick black waves. “I can’t either.” He turned to Lexie. “Hey, it’s been quite a day, but I know you need to get that interview on Abby. I’m ready if you are.”

  “Sure.”

  “Listen, why don’t you two head on out and do the interview somewhere private.” Paul pointed to the next cubicle, where Melody Harper had stopped typing and no doubt hung on every word and prepared to call everyone she knew to tell them Hannah Sharp had been found. Paul didn’t want her also privy to the information regarding John’s deceased wife.

  Lexie agreed with his suggestion. “That sounds good. I’ll email the updated profile info, as well as the copy for tomorrow’s broadcast on Abby Tucker, before 10:00.”

  “Take as much time as you need. I’m working another late one. And I know you’ll do a great job.”

  “I’ll try.” She gathered her things, said goodbye to Paul and left the station with John, who looked as if the finding of Hannah Sharp and Logan Finley had been less of a triumph for the task force and more of a heart-wrenching blow. This afternoon, he’d learned two of his friends from high school were murdered. Now he’d have to talk about the emotions surrounding his wife’s death.

  The day wasn’t getting any better.

  John escorted Lexie from the building, helped her in his Grand Cherokee, then climbed in the driver’s side. He sat there for a moment, the events of the past few hours weighing over him like granite, or rather a granite tombstone, the kind of monument that should’ve marked Hannah and Logan’s grave throughout the years, instead of the filthy mulch and dirt and nothingness that hid what had been two vibrant lives. One of which had been a dear friend, and for a short time long ago, she had been more.

  With each careful pass of the shovels, the group had become antsy. Although the Fellowship’s grounds should’ve been overgrown and dense like the surrounding forest, it wasn’t. The brush had been recently disturbed, broken branches identified someone had driven into and through the barriers, and though there were no footprints to be found due to the blanket of pine straw and damp leaves on the ground, John had no doubt the killer had visited the site.

  He’d been impressed with Angel’s assessment of the killer. She’d seen into his head and followed his thoughts, and because
of her ability, they’d found Hannah and Logan. The two would receive the mourning they deserved and closure for the families. Well, Logan’s family at least. Hannah’s had written her off long ago, which made Tucker livid. She’d been a vibrant, energetic, typical teenage girl who loved life and wanted to experience every aspect. Because of that, hers had been snatched away, and her family hadn’t cared.

  Throughout the excavation, Angel had been the only female at the site. She’d encouraged Lexie to return to work for the afternoon rather than participate in the search for Hannah and Logan’s remains, and Tucker had seconded her proposal. Lexie didn’t need to see what they found, but in his opinion, neither did Angel. However, the profiler wasn’t concerned with his opinion. She held her emotions intact and didn’t let on that this case ranked more important to her than any other.

  Until they found the bodies.

  He’d seen her then. She stood across from him with her face void of color, then she turned from the group and entered the recesses of the forest. John followed her and held her long blonde hair while she vomited. Then he held her, until she gained her composure and prepared to face the frantic group.

  “He’s the worst I’ve seen. They’re saying they found two bodies, but there were three people buried in that tomb. Hannah, Logan and their baby.” She touched her stomach, her green eyes redlined and intense with the realization that so many not only lost their lives, but also their unborn children. “And he killed my mother.”

  “We’ll get him.” John meant the promise. She and Lexie had suffered throughout their lives because of this monster, and they still suffered now. John had also suffered, losing Abby and now watching Lexie endure the knowledge that the killer still hurt and murdered women, the way he’d hurt and killed her aunt. They had to stop him. John had to stop him. But first, he had to find him.

  “If you don’t want to do this interview, we don’t have to,” Lexie said from the passenger’s seat. “I could talk to Paul and use his background with Abby to gain the personal information I need. I don’t want to make your day any worse.”

  How long had he been sitting here, the keys in his hand while Lexie waited for him to make a move? The killer consumed his thoughts, gaining control, and John wouldn’t let him win. He turned in the seat and looked at Lexie, beautiful, caring and loving Lexie. Reaching out, he touched her cheek, then he leaned over and brushed a soft kiss on her lips. “I appreciate your offer, but you and I both know it’ll mean more and produce a better image of Abby if I answer your questions personally.”

  “It will, but—”

  “No. No buts. I want to do this. Yeah, it’s been a rough day, but it’s been a rough day for you too.” He paused, then decided to go ahead and tell her what he knew she’d want to know. “Angel didn’t take it well.”

  The sunlight of late afternoon filtered through the car and seemed to focus on her face, etched with concern. “Is she okay? Did—did anyone wonder why she didn’t take it well?”

  “No. It was hard on all of us, and we tried to handle it like men, but we all knew Hannah and Logan. I’ve never been to a drop site when I’ve known the individual, and it’s different. Angel held it together throughout the excavation, but when they found the first body, then the second, she couldn’t.”

  “I should’ve gone with her. I shouldn’t have come back to work.”

  “No, I think she did the right thing telling you to work on the article. Going to the site is part of what she does in her job, to give her a better interpretation of the killer’s actions. And she knew the emotions involved with finding those bodies and knowing the same guy that put them there killed Beverly Truman would be too traumatic for the two of you to endure together. You may have inadvertently let your relationship be known, and we can’t afford for the killer to learn that the two of you are related, and that you saw him back then.”

  “But Angel needed me, and I wasn’t there.”

  “No, but I was.”

  “You helped her?” Her eyes glistened, on the verge of tears.

  “Yeah, I did. She only lost it for a few minutes. She also mentioned that tossing her lunch once again would help fuel the pregnancy suspicions and help her plan.”

  “That’s Angel, ready to fight the world with a vengeance.” She gave him a slight smile. “I’m glad you were there.”

  “Me too.” He waited a beat then, because he’d promised Angel he would and because he couldn’t keep anything from Lexie, he told her what he’d been dreading most throughout the drive from the Fellowship grounds to WGXA. “And there’s something else, something Angel wanted you to know, but she didn’t want to risk calling you at work.”

  “What is it?”

  “The location of the Fellowship gathering place. We never mentioned it in our meeting this morning, since most everyone there already knew. But after Angel saw where we went, she said you’d want to know.”

  “Where is it?”

  “About twelve miles outside of town, down County Road 42.”

  She put a hand over her mouth then eased it away. “I thought it wasn’t on a main road. I’d assumed the woods, from what you described.” She paused, leaned her head back and whispered, “I never imagined it could’ve been the same place.”

  “It is off the main road, or at least off of the county road. But Angel told me that your aunt took that road that day, when he stopped her and attacked her. We’re thinking he may have been there, at the place where he’d buried Hannah and Logan, before you and your aunt arrived.”

  “It was a dirt road, covered in loose gravel.” She remembered the crunching sound of rocks beneath his shoes when he neared the car. Then, because she couldn’t control the force of the memory, she remembered the look in her aunt’s eyes. Her screams. Lexie gasped. “We drove right to him. On the day he’d already decided to commit a murder.” Then she shook her head. “But he couldn’t have known we would, and he had no idea about her pregnancy until he got to the car.”

  “Which was what Angel said today when she spoke to me about it. She believes, after viewing the Fellowship grounds and trying to determine how the man thinks, that he believed some spiritual force would show him the next victim he should claim. Then he left the gathering grounds and pretended his car had broken down on the road and waited for someone to stop.”

  “The police said other people had seen a teenage boy broken down on that road earlier that morning,” Lexie said. “Some had even stopped to help, but he’d claimed he was okay.”

  “I know. After Angel and I talked, I pulled the information out of our files and reviewed it again. If they could have identified the guy, the killer would’ve been stopped long ago, but I think the police didn’t believe a teen could’ve done what was done to your aunt, and they didn’t follow up with the witnesses like they should have.” He shrugged. “In 1985, I’m afraid the cops didn’t realize the killing instinct could occur prior to adulthood, or they didn’t realize someone could be that brutal if they were so young. But evil isn’t age-specific.”

  “Or maybe he wasn’t a teen. Maybe he just looked young.”

  “That’s a possibility too. But in any case, the police didn’t follow through, and the guy got away.”

  Lexie turned, grabbed her seat buckle and snapped it on. “I want to go there.”

  He didn’t have to ask where. Angel had told him Lexie would want to know for sure whether he’d attacked Beverly near Hannah’s body. As an investigative reporter, she wanted to know as much as possible about everything. But John dreaded taking her, because he suspected it had been twenty-eight years since the little girl called AJ had been on County Road 42. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  He blew out a breath. “Okay. But go ahead and get out your tape recorder.”

  She looked confused, but she followed his instruction and withdrew the tiny recorder from her purse. “Why?”

  “If we’re going to confront the pain from your past, we’re going to confront mine, too. A
nd we’ll do the two together, so I can help you deal with yours,” he leaned across the seat, touched a finger to her chin, “and you can help me deal with mine.”

  Lexie bit her lower lip. “You’re ready to talk about Abby?”

  “No, I don’t guess I’ll ever be ready, but I need to. Even though most of the town remembers her, or at least remembers her death. But they didn’t know her, and in order for them to care about each and every victim, they need to know them. You’ve stirred the emotions of everyone in Macon with these stories, let them know what the world lost when these women were killed. They deserve to know about Abby too.”

  “Okay.” She pulled a notebook from her briefcase and flipped to the questions she’d asked each family member in the earlier interviews. She kept the questions the same to keep each consistent; however, the amount of information within the stories varied, dependent on what aspect of the victim had most touched the family member. Therefore, although each interview conformed to the rest, they were also unique, like the individuals described.

  Since John had seen each of Lexie’s previous interviews, he knew what she’d ask, which helped. Some. However, he still prepared for the emotional onslaught of remembering how much Abigail Tucker meant to him fourteen years ago.

  Cranking the truck, he backed up, then started out of the parking lot. “Go ahead.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lexie’s interviews were done privately, with only the victim’s family member and her tape recorder present for the event. After they completed the interview, she composed the copy, submitted it for Paul’s approval then taped the segment. She’d never been more grateful for the procedure than right now. Lexie didn’t want to interview John on live TV. Too much emotion involved, on his part and her own.

  She pressed the record button and scanned the basic list of questions that had proven effective with her former interviews. When she questioned family members about their loved ones, the list hadn’t seemed invasive. However, with Detective John Tucker on the responding end, it did.