by A Wallace
“Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
Charley made an ugly face. “I hate grape jelly or jam, gross.”
“Really… why?”
“I just do.”
“Is strawberry okay?”
“Strawberry is fine.”
“You don’t like grapes?”
“I love grapes. I don’t like grape jam or jelly.”
“That’s weird.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “That’s me.”
“Why did he let Annabelle ride a bike?”
“She’s was his favorite, or he knew her background and pitied her.”
He shook his head. “I doubt it.” Murphy planted his left foot on the floor and anchored the other on the stretcher. “It’s possible the scrapes aren’t from a spill on a bike, but she freed herself and ran. He chased her, and she fell causing her injuries.”
Charley chewed her lip. “Plausible.”
“I believe he held the girls in a wooded area.”
“Annabelle had concrete fragments in the wounds. There isn’t a lot of concrete in the woods.”
“Chasing her. It could be he caught her, carried her back to wherever he keeps them. She fought, he lost control, and she fell onto a sidewalk. Attempting to get away again, she crawled injuring her legs.”
“Sean, why do you think they’re in the woods?”
“The other day, I was waiting for a traffic light and the photographs sprang to mind. A few of the scrapes are a straight line, such as from a twig or branch.”
“Did you suggest this to Carmichael?”
Murphy nodded while taking a drink. “He’ll reexamine the evidence.”
Charley twiddled her fingers on the counter. “You didn’t tell me this.”
Murphy shook his head. “The same night I stopped by O’Shea’s. Carmichael was there. We talked. I’d forgotten about it.”
“Ah.” She smiled. “You’re forgiven for going without me.”
Chapter 43
What Girls?
Lorton, VA - Faraday Farms
Friday, 12 August - 2:36 PM
Twenty-nine days had passed since the recovery of Lydia Edwards body.
Thirty-one days since learning banana splits was a new word for divorce.
Forty-four days since Tangerine murdered Hillary Meagan.
Seventy-nine days since Jake returned to the States.
One hundred and eleven days since learning helium kills.
One hundred and fifty days since the murder of Robin Senters.
What’s next?
Results from the Ariel Halloween mask brought nothing new. The same with the masquerade mask found at Rensselaer Park, the day Annabelle Grant went missing. The fingerprints revealed the girls touched it. A sign the killer didn’t have a criminal record. Nor did the culprit work in law enforcement, which was a relief to Doobie and others. These findings also removed the military, bonded, or those associated with the medical community. The list was shorter by a couple hundred thousand citizens in the Northern Virginia area.
Nestled at the desk, reading a current journal article regarding the psychology of a child killer offered Charley no insight. A family member committed most child murders. All members of the girls’ families were exempt from further investigation associated with the abductions or murders.
Still searching for an alternate angle, the familiar beep, beep, beep invaded her concentration. She covered her ears with her hands, trying to drown out the sound. Her cell phone chimed. The ringtone, ‘Little Children’, it was Murphy.
“Hey, Char, I’ll meet you at the crime scene.”
“I’ll be there.”
Delaney Ryusaki, aged eleven from Annandale, was of Japanese descent. Born in Fairfax County, her father, Michio, a physician, and her mother, Jordan, a lawyer, were affluent. The abductor had raised the wealth bar.
A fifth grader at Francis Mounts Elementary School, she had shiny black straight hair and hazel eyes. Intelligent, and a renowned violinist, she enjoyed weekly ballet lessons and played shortstop on a girls’ softball team. A feisty child, Delaney had an infectious personality.
After leaving her violin lesson, she disappeared, even though her father waited for her in the car.
They had planned a father-daughter afternoon at the Washington Mall. Police questioned the violin instructor, Mr. Robert Epson, who relayed, after Delaney left the studio he didn’t know when she left the Procter Learning Arts Center building or which door she used.
Charley and Murphy parked side-by-side, left their vehicles, and merged.
“There’s Doobie.” Murphy pointed towards the front of the building. “Hope he has something we can use.”
Doobie approached them, his eyes tired, his expression sad. “We got nothing.”
“Doobie, you read our minds. No forensics?” Murphy said.
“Not yet, but Fleming and his team are combing inside the building. He could have been inside and taken her from many exterior doors. No mask, no ice cream man, nothing.”
His hands in his pockets, Murphy rocked back and forth on his feet. The simplistic single story brick structure resembled a post office.
“Small parking lots on all sides, surrounded by a tree line,” Charley said.
“Plenty of places to run and hide,” Doobie said.
“What was she wearing?” Murphy stared towards the north side of the building.
“She had on a sundress which ties at the shoulders, red with purple flowers. Purple socks, red sneakers. She wore her hair with the sides and top pulled back and clasped with a purple hairclip.”
Murphy and Charley cast knowing looks at one another.
“Her hair was down?” Murphy said.
“Yes, except the sides and top. Why?”
“Murphy recalled all the victims’ hair was worn up when abducted, except Robin, now Delaney,” Charley said.
“Meaning?”
“Unknown, but, it’s a similarity.” Murphy sauntered to the side of the building. Several feet away from the others, at the corner of the facility, he yelled, “Hey guys.”
He waited.
No response.
“We need Fleming out here,” Murphy said.
“Why?” Charley sauntered toward Murphy.
He indicated left. “Take a look.”
Doobie scurried to catch Charley. Their eyes followed his finger to a rear parking lot. “We have a trail.”
The three of them trotted towards the rear of the building to the employee parking lot.
“Sheet music,” Charley said.
“It leads to the tree line.” Doobie removed his cell phone from his pocket to call Fleming, to request help. “Fleming’s on his way.”
“They’re scattered.” Murphy wet his finger and held it into the air. “No breeze. She dropped the music one sheet at a time.”
Charley motioned towards the grove, surrounding the paved lot. “There’s a music folder laying in the grass this side of the trees.”
“I see something else.” Murphy waved to the right. “In front of the maple, a large black box.”
“A violin case.” Charley tugged Murphy’s sleeve. “They left in that direction. This is different.”
“How?” Doobie said.
“She sensed she was in trouble,” Charley said. “Otherwise she wouldn’t have discarded her sheet music or her violin. Musicians are protective of their instruments.”
Doobie scrunched his face. “The killer didn’t notice she tossed sheet music?”
Charley shook her head. “He didn’t have time to care. He wanted her out of here. This is a busy area, detection was a possibility.”
Murphy’s head turned in her direction. “Delaney didn’t know him.”
“You’re right.”
Tech Fleming approached the three of them. “I’m not trying to be an ass, but I want no one in this vicinity until we’re done.”
“Go for it.” Doobie grabbed Murphy and Charley’s attention. “You heard
the man. Let’s get the hell outta the way.”
As the three of them cleared the area, the forensics team hustled to the rear of the building.
“Doobie, where did you say Delaney goes to school?” Charley said.
“Francis Mounts.”
Charley nodded and smiled.
“What, Charley?” Murphy said.
“Francis Mounts is a private school not a public school.”
“Meaning?”
She raised two fingers. “He made two mistakes.”
Doobie stepped closer to her. “Which are?”
“Delaney didn’t know him. That’s why she left a trail and she is the only child who attends private school.”
“He screwed up,” Murphy said.
“Yes, he did and in our favor. He couldn’t locate his target.”
“Desperation. He substituted.”
Doobie shook his head. “Damn, I’m confused.”
“Delaney wasn’t his next victim,” Murphy said. “He couldn’t find her, so he grabbed Delaney instead. Overcome with anxiety, he became desperate. He lost control and made a mistake.”
“The only way he could complete his plan was to alter his pattern.” Charley said.
“You’re saying he used the schools as the points of initial contact?” Murphy said.
“Yes.”
“Wait a second, the order has nothing to do with it, but locations,” Doobie.
“But which location?” she said. “The abduction or dumping location?”
“Dumping and here’s why,” Murphy said. “Robin, Olivia, Natalie, Annabelle were abducted and dumped within two miles of the abduction location. Lydia wasn’t. Her abduction occurred twelve miles away. The order is the dumping site. That’s the pattern. Those locations hold the clue we need.”
“Now you’re thinking like a criminal.” She turned to Doobie. “Sean and I will study this alternative.”
“Do it,” Doobie said.
“We need to talk to the father. Where is he?” Murphy said.
“Dr. Ryusaki is over by the main door. His wife is out of town at a conference in Atlanta. The husband notified her, and she is on her way home,” Doobie said.
Charley and Murphy approached Dr. Ryusaki.
“Dr. Ryusaki, we’re Agents Faraday and Murphy. May we speak with you?” Charley said.
The man wiped his eyes. “Yes.”
“You and your daughter were going to the Washington Mall today?” Charley said.
“Yes, and later, to dinner. Since my wife is away, I took advantage of the time to spend with my daughter. I had my staff reschedule all my appointments for the day. Delaney didn’t want to cancel her violin lesson even though I suggested it. Wish I had insisted.”
“It’s our understanding your daughter is friendly?” Murphy said.
“Yes, even though we have told her to be careful and not assume everyone is like her. She’s such a trusting child.”
“What is her favorite color?” Charley said.
With a strange expression Dr. Ryusaki said, “Green and blue, not sure which she prefers. She likes both.”
“Has she mentioned anyone or anything that seems out of the ordinary?” Murphy said.
“No, she has a heavy schedule.” Dr. Ryusaki sniffed. “Delaney’s an active child. I can’t think of anyone.”
“By chance, does Delaney like to paint or draw?” Charley said.
“Only if you make her. She’s not a fan of art class.”
“She’s an only child?” Charley said.
“No, my first wife died years ago. Delaney has a twenty-year-old half-brother. He’s attending school in Japan. He lives with relatives. I’m a tad older than my current wife.” Fidgety, he squeezed his hands. “Will they ask for ransom?”
Murphy’s head flinched. “Are you aware of the five kidnapped little girls in the area since March?”
“Kidnappings? No, I’m not, has there been?”
Shocked at this revelation, Charley and Murphy wondered what parent wasn’t aware. News outlets issued daily updates since the abduction of Robin Senters.
“Have you recently moved here or been away?” Murphy said.
“No, I’ve lived here over ten years. Why? These abductions, where were they?”
Murphy pointed at the ground. “Here, Fairfax County.”
“No, this is the first I’ve heard of it.” Ryusaki shielded his eyes from the sun. “I don’t watch the news. I’m rarely home at that hour.”
“Isn’t your wife an attorney?” Murphy said.
“Yes, she’s a corporate lawyer, why?”
“She isn’t involved with law enforcement?” Charley said.
“No, handles mergers, stuff like that.”
“While sitting in your car, waiting for Delaney, did you see anyone?” Murphy said.
“No, I was reading a book to pass time.”
Charley turned around with her hands on her hips. “How about cars?”
Ryusaki shook his head. “No, no cars.”
“Did you see anything unusual?” Murphy said.
“No, I didn’t. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“You never left your vehicle?” Charley said.
“Not until I realized the time. I went inside and asked Mr. Epson what was taking so long. During our conversation we figured something wasn’t right.” Ryusaki’s eyes filled with tears. “I called the police.”
“You never saw a letter from Delaney’s school regarding changes in lockdown procedures?” Murphy said.
“Lockdown? My wife takes care of everything.”
“What was your daughter wearing today?” Murphy said.
“Uh,” Ryusaki scratched his brow. “Shorts, I guess. Shoes. Shirt.”
Charley turned away, learning the father paid so little attention to his daughter; he didn’t know what clothes she wore. She sighed with disbelief.
Murphy rubbed his mouth with his hand to hide his anger at the lack of involvement Dr. Ryusaki had with his child. He turned his back, his fists clinched with rage. He repressed his temper as Charley touched his hand. As his blood pressure reduced, he faced the neglectful father. “I have nothing further, Dr. Ryusaki.”
“I have no more questions either,” Charley said.
The two of them excused themselves, returning to Doobie.
“Talk about not being involved and oblivious to what is going on in the world,” Doobie said.
“I wanted to punch his face.” Murphy slung his arm into the air. “I can tell you what Charley wore last Tuesday.”
Charley placed her hands out to the side and perused her clothing. “Uh… the same thing I wear every day.”
Murphy wiggled his finger at her. “No, Tuesday night, we went to the Kennedy Center to see ‘The Phantom of the Opera’. You wore a purple dress with red heels. The first time I’ve seen you wear your hair up.”
Stunned, Charley chuckled. “You sure it wasn’t the green dress?”
“No, because purple is my favorite color, and you had lavender flowers in your hair.”
Frustrated, Doobie huffed. “Geez, Murph, did she shave her legs?”
Murphy pocketed his hands. “Yes.”
Doobie tossed his hands into the air and scampered towards the rear of the building to join Fleming.
Chapter 44
Connect the Dots
Lorton, VA - Faraday Farms
Monday, 15 August - 8:30 PM
Murphy pressed his shoulder against the office doorframe, following Charley’s every move.
Perched on the console edge, she studied the overhead monitor, squeezing her eyes as if willing them to perform a major feat.
He sauntered into the room, passed by her, staring at the screen. “I’m here. I bought Chinese food for us.” He dropped the two bags onto the desk, sauntered back around to the front, and joined her. He crossed his ankles and arms as he planted his backside against the console.
Her focus unwavering she targeted the geo-map unaware he st
ood next to her. The red dots identified the abduction sites while the blue lines connected the dots in the order of the abductions. She took a step forward from the console and directed the laser pointer at the screen and mumbled, “The answer is there, right there.”
Ideas flurried in his mind about the best way to pull her attention away from the screen. He directed his hand to the folding table to the right. “Hey, you wanna have sex on the table?”
Registering his voice, but not his comment, she patted his shoulder without a glance. In a slow, inattentive voice, she said, “Hi, Sean. That’s fine.”
I wish. Murphy chuckled and snapped his fingers. “Hey, Char, over here.”
She shook her head and caught his eyes. “Did you say something?”
Murphy tilted his head towards the monitor. “Are we any closer to figuring this out?”
“No, I’m failing. I can’t get anything from this brain of mine. Charley rubbed her forehead. “The answer is in front of us, but I can’t see it. Sean, does anything stand out to you?”
Murphy pushed off the console, concentrating while rolling his lower lip with his thumb and index finger. He mumbled.
“What did you say?” she said.
Murphy’s directed his finger at the screen. “Does any of this behavior seem feminine to you? The cleanliness, feeding them, the pretty dresses, the nail polish. The ribbon on the shoes.”
Charley shrugged. “About one percent of serial killers are women. The odds aren’t in favor of a female.”
He flashed his hands out front. “Yeah, well, there’s that one percent.” Fixated on the screen, Murphy zoomed in on the abduction plot of the geo-map. He tipped his head to one side, eyeing the screen as if searching. “Remove the blue lines, but keep the red dots.”
She manipulated the mouse as he requested. “Done.”
Murphy concentrated on the red tags. “Lyra,” he mumbled.
“Who’s Lyra?” Charley said, suspicious.
“Lyra is a what, not a who. It’s a constellation. It’s visible from spring to fall in the Northern Hemisphere. Wanna see it?”
Charley lifted her hands. “Wait, wait, wait, how do you know?”
“I’ve been a stargazer most of my life. I have a telescope on the balcony of my bedroom.”