Mindfield (Sideways Eight Book 1)

by A Wallace

  “Similar to the bowling alley,” Murphy said.

  “Without kicking and screaming, I assume.” Charley dug into the side pocket of her pants and removed her tablet.

  “Yep,” Doobie said, scratching his head.

  Charley tipped the pad for Murphy to view. “Look at the plot lines. Resembles a square root.” She scanned the restaurant. “Fingerprints are useless, same as the bowling alley. He knows we can’t track him in places like this.”

  Murphy addressed Doobie. “What was Lydia wearing?”

  “Denim skirt, green and yellow checked sleeveless, cotton shirt. White sneakers with neon green laces, and yellow socks. Her hair was in a bun with a daisy.”

  “Where are the parents?”

  Doobie directed his hand towards the front of the store. “They’re sitting at the table by the window.”

  Charley replaced the data tablet into the side pocket of her pants. “Mind if we speak to them?”

  Doobie waved his hand in the air. “Go ahead.”

  Charley and Murphy approached the grief-stricken, overwrought parents. They raised their red and swollen eyes.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Edwards, we’re Agents Faraday and Murphy. May we talk to you?” Charley said. “We need to ask a few questions.”

  Their lips trembled as they acknowledged.

  Mrs. Edwards wiped her nose with a napkin. “Please call us Kate and Will.”

  “Do you object to us recording this interview?” Murphy said as he and Charley sat across from them.

  Will shook his head. “Not a problem.”

  Charley placed the voice recorder on the table. “What is Lydia’s favorite color?”

  “Lavender and purple,” Will said.

  “What are Lydia’s hobbies?”

  Kate swallowed deep. “She likes to paint.”

  “Is it more of a hobby or is she dedicated?”

  “As a parent,” Kate patted her chest, “I may be overstating, but her paintings are good. She’s an unconventional artist. Abstract, I guess you would call it. Lots of bright colors, geometric shapes, and forms.”

  “Has she had any professional training? Such as classes or a tutor for her art?”

  “She never said she wanted to.” Will hung his head and rubbed his eyes.

  “Would she leave with a stranger?” Murphy said.

  “No way.” Kate shook her head. “She’s mistrustful of strangers.”

  “Would she leave with someone if she thought they needed help, or convinced her someone she knows needs help?” Charley said.

  “Hmm, if she believed someone was in trouble, she would come to us.” Kate wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “She’s a careful child?” Murphy said.

  “Yes,” Will said.

  “She would be alarmed by strangers?”

  “Yes, except for those in a position in authority, such as police, teachers,” Kate said.

  “You taught her?” Charley said.

  “Yes.” Will nodded. “When she was younger, she was lost in the mall and went straight to a security guard. So the answer is yes.”

  Charley and Murphy glanced at each other. “Do either of you recall if a policeman or a security guard was here and now he isn’t?” Murphy said.

  “I’m not sure.” Kate turned to her husband. “Will, did you see one?”

  Will scrunched his face. “I remember thinking he couldn’t take down a toddler.”

  “Why?”

  “He was small for a cop, thin, about five eight or so. I mean cops should be hardy like you, Agent Murphy.” Will’s attention turned to Charley. “No offense, Agent Faraday.”

  “Don’t let her size fool you.”

  “Will, I wrangle criminals with my brain. Not as messy,” Charley said.

  “I hear that, Agent Faraday. Intelligence is the ultimate weapon.” Will attempted a smile, but failed.

  “When was the last time Lydia was in this restaurant?”

  “Oh, my, uhm, it was the night we went to see that movie.” Kate’s eyes viewed the ceiling. “The one about the sisters, animated.”

  “Tuesday, about a month ago.” Will removed his cell phone from his pocket. He thumbed the screen to check the calendar. “The twenty-first of last month.”

  Charley glanced at Murphy before redirecting her attention back to the Edwards. “We appreciate your time and want you to know we’ll do whatever it takes to find Lydia.”

  Charley stood. Murphy grasped her forearm to prevent her from leaving. “One more question. Has Lydia mentioned anyone by the name of Star?”

  “Star… hmm.” Will rubbed his chin. “I don’t think so. How about you, honey?”

  “It was about a month ago.”

  Murphy leaned on the table. “Kate, what did Lydia say?”

  “I remember. She said something like, Star was a banana.”

  “A banana?” Charley’s face scrunched. “That’s new.”

  “Where did she see this… banana?” Murphy said.

  “On television?” Kate pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, that’s not right. I’m not sure. It had something to do with a banana.”

  “One more question. Is Lydia an only child?”

  “Yes.” Kate’s face expressed confusion. “Does it matter?”

  “I’m not sure. You’ve been a tremendous help and given us information we didn’t have until now. Thank you.”

  “I’m not sure how we helped, but you’re welcome,” Will said. “Find my daughter, please, and God be with you.”

  “Thank you.” Murphy grabbed the voice recorder and gave it to Charley.

  Abreast, they walked towards Doobie. “Doobie is gonna love this,” Charley said. “This could be a break.”

  “The description is similar to what Justin, Dillon, and Lucas told us,” Murphy said.

  Charley grabbed Murphy’s arm, her tone startled and low. “Sean, the twenty-first was the night before Annabelle died.” She paused, moved in front of him, and placed his wrists in her hands. “Annabelle had pizza for dinner.”

  “You’re thinking that’s how the killer chose Lydia. He saw her while buying Annabelle’s pizza.”

  “We need the feeds from the cams. Let’s hope they kept backup copies from last month.”

  “We can use the cams to identify who bought sausage pizza on that day and time.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Annabelle ate around nine in the evening. We need to ask the Edwards what time they were here.” With consternation, Murphy grasped her hand. “Char, I have an idea.”

  “What?”

  “All the girls are only children.”

  “No, Robin had a brother.”

  “No, Char.” Murphy waved his finger back and forth. “When Robin disappeared, her little brother wasn’t born. Mrs. Senters was in labor.”

  “You’re right.” Her mouth dropped. “A common denominator, except Robin isn’t Bonnie Senters daughter. Emma Gibson is Robin’s mother.”

  With a closed mouthed smile. “The killer didn’t know.”

  Charley squeezed his wrists, smiling. “That’s possible.”

  “Wait.” Murphy rubbed his lower lip. “Of all the girls he’s taken, he kept Robin the longest. Maybe… because Mrs. Senters was pregnant, making Robin replaceable.”

  Charley squeezed his wrists again. “He only wanted to kill children without siblings. Robin told him about baby Robert. She didn’t meet the criteria.”

  Murphy shook his head with a defiant smile. “Uh, huh, he had to kill Robin before Bonnie gave birth. At the time of her death, Robin remained an only child.”

  “Wow.” Charley’s face brightened. “His victims had to be an only child. But why?”

  Murphy shook his head. “No clue.”

  Doobie interrupted them. “Anything?”

  “Somehow, we need to figure out how stars and bananas work into this. Sounds crazy, but…” Charley said.

  “Bananas?” Doobie said.

  “Yes, banan
as,” Murphy said.

  “I’ll keep my ears open.”

  “One other thing,” she said, “the Edwards’ were here the night of the twenty-first. Pizza was Annabelle’s last meal. This may be false hope, but it’s possible this is where the perp bought Annabelle’s pizza.”

  “These businesses must maintain cams and such. It’s pricy, but when things like this happen it’s a necessity,” Murphy said.

  “I agree, but it’s not enforceable,” Doobie said.

  Murphy shook his head, displeased.

  “I want to talk to the Edwards’ one more time,” Charley said.

  “Let’s go.” Murphy took her by the arm, leading her to the Edwards.

  Charley and Murphy approached the distraught parents. Murphy stood behind Charley as she engaged their attention. “Kate, Will, sorry to bother you again, but we have a couple more questions.”

  “Sure,” Will said.

  “What time were you here after the movie?” Murphy said.

  Will squeezed his eyes. “Showtime was at four forty-five. The movie was less than two hours. The drive… we were here around eight.”

  “You’re sure?” Charley said.

  “I can check my receipt. It has the date and time of purchase.”

  “Would you and contact Agent Dubuclet and tell him?”

  “I will.”

  “Once again, thank you. We’ll get going.”

  Reticent, Charley and Murphy left Floriano’s through the main entrance. Standing at the passenger side of Murphy’s truck, she looked around to see if they were alone.

  “Wait, before you say anything.” On her toes, her hand gripped the back of his neck as she kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  Murphy smiled. “For what?”

  “The stars on the ceiling. So unexpected. What an amazing experience. I wish you had been there.”

  Murphy looked away. “Yeah, well, you kicked me out.”

  “I didn’t kick you out.”

  He crammed his hands into his pockets, glaring at her. “Char, you kicked me out.”

  Charley planted her forehead on the center of his chest. “It means a lot. You’re a wonderful friend.”

  His hand pressed against her back, he laid his chin upon the top of her head. “I would’ve loved to have seen your smile.”

  “It was a big one.” Charley grinned.

  “Tangerine is out there, Char. He’s determined to hurt you. Promise me you’ll sleep with a piece under your pillow, check your cam feeds every day. If you don’t I’ll be moving in whether you like it or not.”

  Charley wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him. “Like I said, you’re the best.”

  Chapter 38

  Please Don’t Fear Me

  Please Don’t Lorton, VA – Faraday Farms

  Saturday, 9 July - 8:45 PM

  Two months after Charley moved into the farmhouse, she hired contractors to add a game room to the rear of the house, facing the eastern side of the swimming pool. The renovation included billiards and gaming tables, a seventy-inch television, several video game consoles and an internal stereo system built into the oak shelving surrounding the river stone fireplace. Underneath an oblong, Tiffany stained-glass light fixture, Charley and Murphy prepared the pool table for a round of rotation.

  “Rack’em, Sean.”

  “I’ll rack, you break.”

  Charley wiggled her eyebrows, smiling. “Prepare to be annihilated.”

  “One-sided, wouldn’t you say?”

  “No.”

  “A pool table in-house. You have the advantage.”

  “I do, Mr. Murphy.” She laughed, tapping him on the shoulder with the cue stick.

  Murphy shook the cue at her. “You are a mean woman.”

  “Your accusations are noted.”

  After racking the balls, he pointed at them with his stick. “Let’s go, hotshot.”

  Charley straightened her shoulders. She bounced the broad end of the cue on the floor. “How about a wager?”

  He sauntered towards her with an eager gait. “Oh, really? Okay, fifty bucks.”

  “Show me you have fifty bucks.”

  “I’m good for it.”

  Charley rocked on her feet. “You don’t have it, do you?”

  “No, I’ll take yours.”

  She whacked him on the ass with the cue. “Keep dreaming, bucky.”

  Murphy shook his head, smiling. “As long as I’m part of the dream, it’s cool.”

  Her aim positioned at the foot rail of the table, ready to break the balls she directed her shot. “Two balls will drop, one in the left corner and the other in the right middle pocket.”

  “I’ll regret saying this, but you’re full of shit sometimes.”

  In slow motion her head turned, peering over her shoulder at him. Her eyes blinked once, giving him a cheeky grin. “Watch.”

  Settled in, she pulled back on the butt of the cue to break at an angle. The spinning balls scattered across the playing area. The number fifteen and seven balls found a home in the right top corner and left middle pockets.

  Murphy’s mouth dropped. “Damn, Char, next time knock’em onto the floor.”

  “I can do that.” She laughed. “Mark twenty-two on the board.”

  Murphy placed the points on the dial. He swung toward her as she placed the one ball in the upper right pocket.

  “Tell me about Sinclair,” Murphy said.

  The tip of Charley’s cue scraped the felt, lobbing the white orb to the other side of the room. She stood, backing away from the table, turning her back to him.

  “Char, tell me.”

  She combed her hair with her hand. “It’s bad, Sean.”

  “I assumed.”

  “If I give you fifty bucks, will you forget it?”

  His head tilted with an inquiring expression, he stepped to the other side of the pool table to join her. “I want the story. Keep your money.”

  Charley rubbed her cheeks and her neck hard. “Garrett Sinclair.”

  “Who is Garrett Sinclair?”

  “We kinda dated.”

  “Kinda?”

  “Well… we went out to dinner and a movie a few times. It wasn’t a love affair or anything. Not from my point of view. Nothing physical.” She glanced at him.

  Murphy returned his cue stick to the rack. “When was this?”

  “Two and half years ago.”

  He leaned against the pool table, crossing his arms. “So you split?”

  Charley’s eyebrows met. “No, not exactly.”

  “He’s still around?”

  She shook her head.

  “He moved?”

  “No, he’s dead.”

  “Dead? How?”

  Charley glanced at him, her eyes sad. “I shot him.”

  His mouth dropped. “What? You killed him? Why?”

  She placed the cue stick onto the pool table.

  Murphy backed away, his voice riddled with disbelief, “What happened?”

  Her hands shook as she wrung them. Anxious, she wrapped her hair behind her ear and recalled the cool, sunny October day, she lowered her eyes.

  Charley dated Detective Garrett Sinclair of the Philadelphia Police Department a few times a month for two months. The relationship never bloomed into a whirlwind. It manifested into an uncomplicated, unrewarding, and platonic relationship, all her choice.

  Delegated to head a task force to locate and arrest a sexual deviant, a lead sent the task force to Philadelphia, searching for a pedophile who lured young boys with empty promises via the internet.

  Introduced at the Philly field office to Detective Garrett Sinclair, he took a single look at Charley, and fell hard and fast in love. For her, he was an avenue to superficial normalcy.

  The task force cornered the suspect while he held an eight-year-old as a shield. Somewhere along the way, Garrett’s headset malfunctioned. Unaware of this, perched in the sniper’s lair, above the commotion, Charley had a direct shot and
called the order for everyone to halt.

  The young boy spotted her in the window of the empty office building, four stories high in the nest. Children, sometimes seeing life in a reverse mirror, Charley tilted her head right, to her shoulder. The lad tilted his head to the left. Zeroed in on the target’s forehead, she had a perfect shot.

  Garrett, not hearing the order, seized an opportunity to take cover, flanking the offender from behind a white panel truck. As she pulled the trigger, Garrett moved into the line of fire. The angle of the trajectory sent the bullet through the bottom of his neck at his right shoulder, piercing his flesh diagonally to the left, shattering his heart. Charley swallowed her anguished scream before she fired a second round into the temple of the pedophile. From above, the Hostage Rescue Team heard a feral scream.

  Murphy scratched the back of his head. Astonished by her words, he said, “Geezus, Char, gawd.”

  “The guilt is overwhelming.” She wiped away a tear. “He was a talented investigator.” She turned away from him, her head bowed with her hand on her forehead. “He was a few years older than me. I didn’t love him, nowhere close. However, I killed him. I’ve never taken the life of an innocent. Garrett was a good man and father. His two children hate me. His ex-wife wanted me to go to prison. They divorced about two years before I met him, with no animosity.” She slammed her fists to her side. “He cared a lot for me, but I didn’t...”

  Murphy’s hands gripped her shoulders. “It had to be devastating.”

  “Horrific.” Charley peered at the floor. “When I realized what happened. I put a bullet in the head of the pedophile, not because he used a child to protect his own ass. Not because he was blasting us with an AR-15. But… because Garrett was dead. It was a revenge killing, but I don’t and I will never regret it.”

  “You’ve experienced so much loss, more than most.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. That’s what happens when your unsuspecting soul has been sold to the devil.” She pulled away from him, snatched the pool cue from the table, tossing it across the room. It crashed into the wall, taking with it a Tiffany lamp. “I’m a horrible person.”

  Murphy stepped behind her, speaking over her shoulder. “If you’re such a bad person, why do you suffer in silence?”

  As her tears flooded her cheeks, she shook. “I’m so sorry.”

  Murphy cradled her shoulders and with tenderness turned her around to face him, and enveloped her into his arms. “It’s okay, Char, cry. Free yourself. The poison will destroy you.” Murphy stroked her hair. “I’m here.”