by DK Herman
Hannah is Gabi and Troy's, fourteen-year-old daughter. The youngest of three kids, she was the only girl. Hannah Thomas was pretty, blonde and petite, just like her mother. I could hear Gabi crying through the phone, and I didn't blame her.
"Where's Troy?"
"Out looking for Hannah with the boys." Gabi replied, her voice shaking. "She was supposed to stay over at a friend's house last night. When she didn't come home this morning, I called her cell to ask if she was spending the day with Kayla. But her phone went straight to voicemail. So, I called Kayla's mother. And she...she said, that she hasn’t seen her. Hannah never went there yesterday!” Gabi sobbed wildly into the phone.
"I'm coming over, Gabi,” I said. "I'll be there in ten minutes."
I grabbed my purse and went to tell Gram that I had to go out. She could tell something was wrong by the look on my face, so I told her the truth. She told me to hug Gabi for her and be careful.
Gabi and Troy owned a huge, gorgeous, old home, a few blocks from main street. They had lovingly restored the craftsman style house over the last ten years. I noticed the fresh cream colored paint with brown trim as I parked Chitty in front of the house.
Gabi was at the front door before I could knock. She threw her arms around me, her whole-body trembling. I was relieved to see Doc pull in behind Chitty and run up to the house. We held Gabi in our arms while she cried for a few minutes then led her into the kitchen. Doc sat with her at the kitchen table while I made tea for the three of us.
"Why didn't Hannah's friend say anything yesterday when Hannah didn't make it to their house?" I set Gabi's tea in front of her.
"Because yesterday afternoon, Kayla got a text from Hannah." Gabi took her own phone from her pocket. "Look, Kayla forwarded it to me this morning after I talked to her mother."
I sat down and took the phone then read the text aloud, "Mom's changed her mind. Wants to have a stupid family night tonight. Call you tomorrow." I handed the phone back to Gabi. "Does it sound like her?"
"No." Gabi shook her head vehemently. "She never uses punctuation or capital letters. And she uses all kinds of goofy abbreviations. Whenever she texts me, I end up calling her because I can't understand what the hell, she's trying to say." Gabi's lips trembled.
Doc rubbed Gabi's back and encouraged her to sip her tea.
"Do you have family nights?" I asked.
"We used to, a couple times a month. Less often now as the kids get older." She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Somebody took her, I know it. The same person that took those girls that you and Hank found buried. I’ll never see her again, just like Heather. Oh, my baby!" Gabi screamed, collapsing into Doc's arms.
She was still inconsolable, a few minutes later when her mother burst into the kitchen. Stella Ross took over comforting her daughter while I straightened up the kitchen.
"Hallie, will you go look for her, too?" Gabi hiccoughed. "You find people. Please?"
"Of course, I will, and we’ll find her.” I tried to sound confident as I stroked her hair. "You're going to stay with her, Mrs. Ross?"
Gabi's mom nodded as a knock came from the front door. I went into the hall intending to see who was it was, but the door opened before I got there.
Andy walked into the house, a grim look on his face. "Where's Gabi?"
"In the kitchen with her Mom. Why, did you find her?" I asked.
He shook his head. "I don't know where to look,” Andy whispered. "It’s like, she just disappeared. And because Hannah’s my relative, the Chief doesn’t want me on the case.” He ran a hand over his face. “We didn't find much in the ruined garage. But I'm going back there with a team to search again, right now. I wanted to check on Gabi first."
"I was trying to get into Cara Gordon's email when Gabi called. There may be clues there,” I whispered back. "I'll keep in touch. Call me if you hear anything."
Doc came out of the kitchen in a hurry. "Gabi's heart rate is way too fast, and she’s hyperventilating. Her Mom’s holding a paper bag over her mouth, but I'm going out to my truck and get a sedative for her. It'll make her sleep for a while."
"Thanks Doc," Andy said. "And Hallie, anything you can find out, call me."
I went back to the kitchen and told Mrs. Ross to call me if they needed anything. I was going to help find Hannah and would check back later. I gave Doc a pat on the back after she handed Gabi two white and green capsules, and I left.
There was a police car in my driveway when I got home. Why were they here? I parked and ran inside.
Liv was in the hall. She saw the concern on my face and pointed at the stairs. "The policeman's up with George. He just got here."
George's sitting room door was open. I took a few seconds to catch my breath and eavesdropped a little before entering the room. I was relieved to hear Chief Woods’ voice.
"There's a vehicle registration number on the ATV. It belongs to a Ryan Murphy." Chief Woods read from a notepad. "Your home is listed as his home address."
“He doesn’t live there, but Ryan’s my son." George nodded. "I didn't know he had an ATV. He must use it for hunting. It was in the garage along the highway, you say?"
"Yes, it was." Chief Woods finally noticed me in the room and nodded in acknowledgement. It's in bad shape after the fire, but like I said, we were able to read the VIN."
"You'll have to talk to Ryan about it," George said. "You say, the garage is a total loss?"
"And anything that may have been in it," Chief Woods answered. "Was it insured?"
"Yeah, for a few grand. How did it start?" George adjusted his arm in the sling.
"Arson," Chief Woods said bluntly.
George's eyebrows shot up.
"How do I contact your son?"
"Honey, please hand me my phone," George said to Gram. Then he read Ryan's address and phone number to Chief Woods.
"Thank you for your cooperation, folks." Chief Woods handed me a card with his office and cell number on it. "Let me know if you think of anything that might help." He looked at me meaningfully. "You've heard about Andy's cousin?"
I nodded. "I just came from Gabi's. I'll call you if I come up with anything."
I returned to my balcony. It was a beautiful day, but all I could think about was Hannah Thomas. My friend was heartbroken at the loss of her daughter. I needed to do something to help.
Hannah looked a great deal like Heather Ross and was close to the same age, when she’d disappeared. I didn't think it was a coincidence that they mentioned family night at the Thomas house. This was someone close to the family.
Switching my laptop back on, and I tried for a few hours, many more combinations of Cara Gordon and Muffin. I incorporated her family’s names too, but nothing worked. My phone rang, interrupting me once again. It was Hank this time.
"I think we should cancel our plans for tonight." He sounded upset. "You've heard about Hannah?"
"She's still missing?" Missing was better than dead, but maybe not knowing was worse. I picked at a broken nail from last night.
"Yeah. The whole family's a mess." He said. "And I've got cops everywhere."
"A rain check's fine,” I assured him.
"I’ll see you in a few days. I miss you already." I could hear warmth in his voice.
"I miss you, too."
We hung up and I found my nail clippers. With a sigh, I cut all my nails short. It was better than looking like a bear that lost a fight with a brick wall. Returning to the balcony, I heard a car door slam in front of the house. Whoever it was, they sounded passed off. So, I went to investigate. Somebody leaned on the doorbell as I ran down the front stairs.
"I'm freaking coming!" I yelled, hurrying down the hall to the front doors. "It had better be an emergency," I said to myself. Nope. There stood Ryan Murphy with an angry, belligerent, expression on his face.
"I'm here to speak to my father, “Ryan demanded. He pushed me with both hands, almost knocking me down and entered the house. “Now, damn it! Where the hell is he?"
> I recovered from the shock and shook with my own anger. I stood in front of him. "Get the hell out of my house until you learn some manners."
"Don't give me any shit, you bitch! This is none of your business.” He shook a finger in my face. I noticed I wasn't the only one in need of a manicure. His nails were filthy and uneven, surprising for such a fussy man. "Just shut up, and get out of my way. I'm not in the mood!" He screamed, spit flying everywhere.
Taking his arm, I twisted it behind his back. Then I shoved him, face first, into a wall so hard it left a hole in the plaster and a nearby painting fell to the floor. "Look you, stupid son of a bitch, don't pull that shit on me. I've got a full plate right now, and I will hurt you. Keep your finger out of my god damn face, and get your bullying ass the hell out of my home." With his arm, still behind his back, I forced him out the front door.
"I'm calling the cops. You assaulted me!" Ryan screamed. I saw his nose was dripping blood onto the porch.
I spun him around to face me and let go of his arm. "Good, call them! Because they’re looking for you. They want to talk to you about your ATV. They know that it was used to transport young girls into the woods for burial after they were tortured and murdered." There was a look of shock on his face. But I wondered if it was caused by being confronted with his crimes, not innocence.
"I didn't kill anybody," he insisted. "I stored an ATV in that garage last summer when I bought a new one."
"Tell it to the police when they talk to you. But don't you ever, barge into my home again." It was obvious that I meant every word. "And don't even think about causing any trouble for George and my grandmother."
He backed off the porch before replying, "Or what."
"Try me, shithead." I went inside and slammed the door.
"You could be one of them, lady wrestlers.” Liv was in the hall, a big smile on her face. She had hung the picture back up, over the hole Ryan’s face made in the wall. “If he makes any trouble, we'll say he fell up the front steps and hit his snout on the porch."
"Sounds good to me." I felt myself blush a little. My temper was cooling, and I was sure that somehow, he would try to make trouble. "I shouldn't have done that.”
"He had it coming, honey. I’m proud of you." Liv gave me a hug. "You want to take the supper tray upstairs?"
"Sure." I followed her into the kitchen. It smelled like heaven, and the countertops were covered with good things to eat. Liv had spent the afternoon making sticky buns and fresh sourdough rolls.
"I heard about Hannah Thomas. I'll make an extra chicken pie and wrap up a tray of these sticky buns. You can take them to poor Gabrielle tomorrow." On a large tray, Liv put together a small feast for two.
I took the heavy tray up to George's sitting room. Setting it on a hall table, I knocked on the door. Gram answered the door with a sweet smile. She looked so happy. I took their supper inside and put it on the coffee table.
"Who was at the door?" Gram asked.
"Just a salesman," I lied smoothly. "The doorbell got stuck, but I fixed it. Need anything else?"
George looked at all the food, Liv had sent up. “Looks like plenty to me, and it smells delicious. Tell Liv, thank you.”
"I'm going to eat with her in the kitchen. Call my cell if you need anything." I closed the door to the hall behind me and went back downstairs.
Liv and I ate on stools at the kitchen counter. Roasted chicken, baked potatoes, and carrots, and homemade rolls, were fantastic. My mouth watered for one of Liv's sticky buns. When I was done eating, she wrapped a half dozen for me to take up to my room.
I retrieved my laptop from the balcony and stretched out on my sitting room couch. I tried to think of other possibilities for Cara's password, wishing I could call Ben. But I doubted he was home yet. I tried several variations of the cat’s and Cara’s names.
Sometimes, I incorporated my birth date or the year I graduated in my passwords. Cara hadn’t graduated, but she was born in 2000. I typed in Muffin2000, and I was in!
Word that she was dead must have quickly gotten around her hometown. There were many emails from friends, mourning her loss. She had been very popular. I browsed the opened messages, and there he was! Two messages from the killer, theracer9816. I opened the newest message first.
As I suspected, he had insidiously, lured the girls to Herville. He promised to pick Cara up when she got off the bus. Then he told her of his plans to take her shopping, to romantic dinners, and the movies. He even assured her that he could get them both served in a bar. Claiming his parents were away on a long vacation, he promised she could stay at his home. His older sister would be there also, as a chaperone.
The prick knew just what to say to these kids. “Show me your face, damn you.” I said, seething with anger. I printed out the email, I had just read. I needed to turn the account over to the cops. I clicked on a slightly older email from theracer9816. My heart skipped beats, there was a picture embedded in the message! When it opened, there he was.
Dizziness washed over me, along with a buzzing in my head. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart and stared at the screen in disbelief. The picture was of a tall, dark haired, male. It was a bright, sunny day and he had his shirt off. He looked well-muscled and tanned. The face was blurry, making it difficult to tell his age, but I could make out blue eyes. He was carrying a box while standing next to a black car. A 1967 Mach 1. It was a picture of Hank.
Laying my laptop on the coffee table, I covered my face with my hands. There had been other evidence pointing to Hank, but it was circumstantial. I couldn't believe he would do such horrible things. But, I knew it wasn't impossible, anyone was capable of anything. A person never really knew what was in another person’s heart and mind. And right now, Hannah Thomas's life was at stake. Besides, I couldn’t wait, not knowing if Hank is a murderer or not. So, I stood and picked up the laptop. Printing two copies of the picture, I put one with the printed message from theracer9816, into my purse. After making sure I had my gun on me, I headed downstairs.
I was going to Hank. I would confront him with the evidence and make it clear that I had to give it to the cops. If he attacked me, I was prepared to draw my weapon. To protect myself, I would shoot him and call 911.
I was trying not to cry as I rushed out the front door. This time I almost knocked someone down. "Andy!" I grabbed his arm to help him stay on his feet. "I'm sorry."
"It's OK." Andy's smile drained from his face when he saw my stricken expression. "I'm not hurt, Hallie. Don't worry about it." He walked to the porch swing and patted the seat beside him. "I need to talk to you."
I sat next to him, gripping my purse. I really needed to know if the love of my life was a serial killer. But, telling his brother that it was a possibility wasn't going to be pleasant. I didn't know what Andy's reaction would be. Sitting stiffly, with my eyes on my feet, I knew I had to say something.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Andy asked in a teasing tone. "Running away after committing assault, perhaps?"
"What!” I exclaimed. "Assault on whom?"
"We spoke to Ryan Murphy." Andy said.
Uh, oh. I'd forgotten about him. The asshole did turn me in!
He claims you sucker punched him and made his nose bleed." Andy chuckled. "The Chief sent me to ask you about it."
"The klutz fell, trying to barge into the house. Ask Liv, she saw the whole thing." I was getting good at lying. It must be a gift, like bitch face.
"Yeah, OK." He laughed again. "Where were you going in such a hurry?"
"To see Hank." I blinked back tears.
"What's wrong?" Andy put a hand on mine.
"I hacked Cara Gordon's email,” I said.
"Great. What did you find?"
I pulled the message from my purse I had printed and handed it to him. "First, read this."
I watched his eyes get huge as he read the email. "It's from the killer. The bastard sure knows what to say!" He read it again. "We turned over ident
ifying this guy to the Staties. I'll have Chief Woods give them a nudge. Good work, Hallie."
Next, I pulled out the message with the picture and handed it to him. "I also found this, in Cara's email. It's from the same person."
Andy examined the picture. His mouth dropped open, and he shot to his feet. "Oh, my God! This can't be Hank!" He looked at the picture again.
I stood and put a hand on his shoulder. "I was going to Hank when I ran into you. I need to ask him about it. Do you want to come with me?"
He nodded as his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID. "It's the Chief. I'm not saying anything about this until we talk to Hank." He put a finger to his lips before walking to the other end of the porch to answer his phone.
I couldn't hear much of a very one sided conversation. But I watched Andy grow more and more agitated. He paced and ran a hand through his hair. Then his face got beet red, his eyes wide.
"I just...can't believe it." He muttered into the phone while tears ran down his face. "Yeah, I'll be there in a couple of minutes." He hung up and clung to a porch rail. It was the first time, I'd ever seen him cry.
"Is it Hannah?" I asked gently.
He shook his head and wiped his eyes on the back of his hands. "They found two usable finger prints on the metal door in the back of the burned garage." He looked at me. "One was yours."
"Yeah. I opened that door last night. I told Chief Woods, I did." Where’s this going?
"The other print was Hank's." Andy looked down at the blood spots on the porch. "After I was sent here, they searched his home and vehicles. They found Ashley Cameron's class ring in Hank's truck."
My hand flew to cover my open mouth. "Are they sure it's hers?"
"Her name's engraved inside." He blew out a gust of air. "I'm having a hard time believing, Hank would hurt anybody."
"I know,” I said. “What are you going to do?"
He shrugged. "There’s nothing I can do. Hank's been taken into custody."
"What about Hannah?" I asked.
"Hank will be questioned thoroughly. If he's guilty, he might tell us where she is or if she's alive."
"Who's going to tell Gabi?"