by Diane Capri
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I sprinted down the hall, darting around the room in search of Cade. My eyes were blurred, and I couldn’t see much of anything out of them. I thought about yelling, but that would have required me to get actual words out, and I could hardly breathe, let alone form sentences.
In a matter of moments my elation over finding the photo of both missing girls had turned from hope to heartache. Someone had found the one place the Kents had chosen to hide the girls from everyone else. Were the girls dead too?
I paused, leaning over the kitchen counter to gain control over my staggered breathing, but resting did nothing to quell the anxiety growing inside me. A sound echoed from the opposite end of the house. I followed it to Cade, who was bent over looking inside bedroom drawers.
“Where are they?” I shouted when I entered the room.
“Who?”
“The girls! Their bodies! Have you found them yet?”
Cade gripped the sides of my arms, shaking me. “Sloane, look at me. What are you talking about—what’s happened?”
I breathed in and out; slow and steady, closing my eyes for several seconds and then opening them back up again. I looked around. The room was decorated in a variety of colors, but one stood out far more than the rest: green. Olivia’s room. The bed was disheveled, the comforter piled up at the bottom, and I couldn’t see a flat sheet, only a fitted one. There was no sign of Olivia.
I dashed out of the room, throwing the door open to the second bedroom across the hall. I paid attention to nothing but another unmade bed in front of me. Again, empty.
Cade ran up behind me. “What’s gotten into you? Sloane, talk to me!”
“Have you searched the rest of the house?” I said.
“What does that have to do with—”
“Have you searched it?!”
He nodded.
“Why?”
I was mumbling to myself now. “Good, then there is still hope…maybe they’re alive. I need to check both of their rooms for clues. We need to find out who—”
“Sloane—what’ going on?” Cade’s voice was agitated.
“The girls—they’ve been taken.”
“What girls?” he said.
“Olivia and Savannah.”
“How do you know?”
“I found a picture of them in a storage room. They were together—they are together. The Kents took them and—the Kents!”
I grabbed Cade’s shirt sleeve, pulling him down the hall behind me. “I need to show you something.”
I led him to the master bedroom, allowing him to enter before me. His reaction upon seeing the bodies was similar to mine, except I’d hesitated to get too close. Cade walked right up to them, staring down at their lifeless bodies. He leaned over, looking first at Regina, and then crossing to the other side of the bed to inspect Bradley.
“Well, I know how they died,” he pointed to Bradley Kent’s head. “A single gunshot wound to the head.”
“It smells in here,” I said. “I’d like to get a closer look at the bodies, but I don’t know if I can take it.”
Cade unbuttoned the top snap of his shirt, holding it up to his nose. He inhaled and exhaled out of it. “I might need to get some air myself,” he said. “And then I need to call this in.”
“Now?”
“Soon,” he said. “Let’s make sure we have everything we need first. What all have you touched?”
“Some bins in the storage room and a couple doorknobs.”
“Wipe everything down,” he said.
“Why?”
“With the feds in town, you shouldn’t be here,” he said. “They’ll be all over you for this, and I don’t want you involved.”
“But, you said we would work—”
“All I’m saying is it would look better if I found this place on my own,” he said. “I’m trying to protect you. We are in this together. Although, how I’ll explain me ending up here, I have no idea. Time is everything right now, so we’re out of here in fifteen minutes tops. I need to get the coroner here as soon as possible.”
I searched the bathroom for a washcloth and found one in the third drawer. I also found a box of latex gloves under some bottles of blond hair dye. I gave the gloves to Cade so if he wanted a closer inspection of the bodies, he could touch them. Then I retraced my steps, making sure to wipe down only the surfaces I had touched. Now all investigators would find were the smudged oil spots that had been left by the pads of my fingers, nothing they’d be able to analyze.
Behind the living room was a large office. When I walked by, I noticed one of the drawers from the desk was lying on the floor, its contents spilled out all over the room. An office chair was also tipped on its side. I walked over, kneeling down to get a closer look. The drawer had come out of the center console in the desk. The front of the drawer had a busted lock. Someone had been looking for something. Papers were scattered around the drawer. I bent over, trying to see what they were without picking them up. There was a deed to some land, deeds to the Kents vehicles, and a few other things of no consequence.
Had the thief gotten what he came for?
I started to stand back up and noticed a piece of fabric hanging off the office chair. At first I thought it had ripped, but upon closer inspection I could see that the upholstery covering the back of the chair velcroed at the bottom. A small piece at the end had folded over just enough to reveal a thin slit. And under the slit, a slight bulge. I pulled the Velcro up and a brown leather book fell out. It was smaller than an index card and thin. As I thumbed through it, most of the pages were empty except for a few handwritten ones at the beginning.
At the top of each page at the front of the book was a name. The name, which was always female, was followed by information like eye color, hair color, and age. There was no address or phone number, just a general description of each child. There was also a price which ranged from forty thousand dollars to one hundred thousand dollars. A few girls had question marks by their names. Six pages in, I came across Olivia’s name. She didn’t have a question mark. She had a star. A star to indicate she was the chosen one. Next to her name was a price: fifty thousand dollars. I flipped through a few more pages and found Savannah. She also had a star, but her price was one hundred thousand dollars. Younger children, it seemed, went for much more than their older counterparts. The thought of purchasing children at any price sickened me.
I took the book over to the printer and lifted the flap on the copy machine. One by one, I printed each page until they all had been printed. I removed the book, flipping through it one last time to make sure I hadn’t missed anything before putting it back where I found it. On the last page of the book, in the corner on the bottom was a phone number. There was no name and no other information, just a phone number. I returned to the scanner and printed it out.
Cade was snapping photos of the Kents with his camera phone from all different angles when I walked back in.
“Find anything interesting?” I said.
“They both show signs of livor mortis.”
“You mean rigor mortis?” I said.
He shook his head.
“At the livor mortis stage, the blood collects around the lowest part of the body. See the discoloration here?” He pointed at Bradley Kent’s legs. “This is how I can tell.”
There were areas of skin on Bradley’s lower body that were reddish in color, like they had been burned, even though they hadn’t. Other areas were white and completely drained of color.
“It looks like splotchy rosacea,” I said.
“Splotchy, yes. Rosacea, no.”
“What does that tell you?”
“Their bodies are stiff, but not as hard as some others I’ve seen,” he said. “My best guess? They’ve been dead for less than three days, but I’d put their deaths at less than a day.”
“From the looks of things, someone did it while they were sleeping,” I said.
Cade nodded in agreement.
“There’s also nothing to suggest their bodies were moved after they were shot. The killer either didn’t care if they were found, or didn’t have time to clean up the mess.”
“Someone knows we are looking for Olivia and Savannah,” I said. “And they know we’re close.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Cade and I were on our way back to the hotel so he could drop me off. The shock of what I’d just seen weighed on my mind. What the Kents had done was unforgivable, but I still felt a sense of sadness over the children they lost and the way their life had come to an end.
Several new theories crossed my mind. It was my opinion that Regina had sent the coloring pages to both parents over the guilt she felt about stealing another person’s child. She probably didn’t understand the impact of her actions. If she had, I was sure she would not have done it.
The kidnapper most likely had certain “rules” he expected the Kents to follow. One of those rules would have been having no contact with the former family. When Regina sent the coloring page to the Hathaways and the news of it leaked to the paper, it alerted the kidnapper that their agreement had been broken. Without knowing it, Regina had put a target on their heads.
I also wondered about the kidnapping itself—whether the Kents were in on it together when Olivia was taken, or if Bradley, distraught with his grieving wife, had contacted the kidnapper the first time himself. But I suppose none of that mattered now.
As soon as Cade backed out of the Kents driveway, he called the double homicide in, saying he’d received an anonymous call from someone who alleged they knew where the girls were. The chief was suspicious, asking several questions, but Cade stood his ground, and he was convincing enough for the chief to take him seriously.
After thinking it over, Cade decided it would be best if the feds arrived at the home thinking they were first on scene, having no idea we’d ever been there at all. Cade offered to drive up to the house, but the federal agent in charge got on the line, thanked him, and said, “We’ll take it from here.”
Of course they would. We intended to do the same.
Cade and I did our best to leave everything the way we found it, the bodies included. Not much time had passed since we’d arrived there, which I felt good about. Neither of us wanted to do anything to hurt the investigation. Within the hour, agents would be picking apart the place, piece by piece. I was anxious to know whether they’d discover what I had.
“The fact the girls weren’t there is a good sign,” I said. “Maybe they’re still alive.”
“Let’s hope so,” Cade replied.
“I think whoever took Olivia and Savannah found out about the page that was mailed to Olivia’s parents and probably saw it as some kind of violation of their agreement.”
Cade shook his head.
“I know you believe the Kents paid someone to take Olivia and Savannah, but we still don’t know for sure.”
“I think we do.” I opened my bag and pulled out the pages I copied. “I found a book hidden inside the fabric of a chair in Bradley Kent’s office. It contains the names of several girls along with their ages and prices.”
“And what are those?” he said pointing to the papers in my hand.
“Copies. I put the book back where I found it when I was done.”
“Names and basic information—that all?”
I shook my head.
“There’s one more thing—a phone number. I found it on the last page. It’s written in pencil, and on the light side, but I can still make the numbers out.”
Cade swerved off the road, jerking the truck to a stop.
“What are you doing?” I said.
He held his hand out. “Let’s try it, see what happens.”
“The number?”
“Why not? Who knows how long those girls have before somethin’ happens to them—that’s if they’re even still alive.”
I handed him the copied page. He glanced at it and then dialed. Once it started ringing, he put the call on speaker. The phone rang four times, then it clicked, and the line was quiet. A few seconds later, the call disconnected.
“It sounded like someone answered the call and hung it up,” I said.
“Then let’s try it again, so he’ll know we’re serious.”
This time it rang twice, and the same thing happened. Cade dialed a third time. It rang once and the line was silent, but the phone stayed connected.
“Hello” Cade said. “Is anyone there?”
“Who’s this?”
The voice on the other end was a man’s. It was raspy, like a life-long chain smoker who was now paying the price.
“I’m calling to inquire about your services,” Cade said.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not. I have a proposition for you.”
“Cut the shit—who are you and how’d you get my number?”
“Who are you?” Cade said.
There was no response.
“I’m interested in two little girls,” Cade said. “Blond hair, ages four and eight. Can you accommodate me?”
The man remained quiet.
“Just tell me when, and where, and how much,” Cade said.
I wanted to grab the phone and scream into it, let the guy on the other end know how I felt about how he made his living. Remaining quiet required an amount of patience I lacked, but I didn’t have a choice—I couldn’t compromise the children.
“You still there?” Cade said. “Are you considering my offer?”
The phone disconnected, and the next several times Cade called back, it just kept on ringing.
“He’s shut his phone off,” I said. “Probably tossing it right now.”
“Maybe.”
Cade made a call to the department, asking someone to run the number for him. He was put on hold, and a few minutes later, the person returned to the line. They said something, and he asked them to look into it. Then he ended the call.”
“Anything?” I said.
“I got a name.”
“What is it?”
“Jack Sparrow.”
“As in Captain Jack Sparrow?” I said.
“I’m guessin’ so. And I’ll bet there’s no way to link it back to an actual person.”
I looked at him. “Try the number one more time.”
He called one last time. “Now I’m getting an out-of-service message.”
“Thought so,” I said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
If the man on the other end of the line did have Olivia and Savannah, and they were alive, I wasn’t sure they’d stay that way for long. He was in the business of pickup and delivery, not parenting. He’d already proven he had no problem killing old ladies and adults, and he may have spared the children for now, but for how long?
Several hours had passed without me hearing from Cade. I thought about trying his number, but I wasn’t sure what happened after he’d dropped me off and went to the station. With the feds in town, I had no way of knowing how everything would play out.
I remembered the business card Cade’s father had given me and decided I’d try him instead. I took it out of my wallet and made the call, but the phone was answered by a woman.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I believe I have the wrong number.”
“Who are you trying to reach?”
Her voice was low and quiet, making it difficult for me to understand what she was saying.
“Detective McCoy,” I said.
“This is his phone. Who’s calling?”
“Sloane Monroe.”
“You’re my son’s friend,” she said, “aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“It seems I’m always out running errands when you stop by.”
“I was looking for Cade. I thought your husband might know if he is still at the station or not.”
“He’s here,” she said. “Would you like to speak with him?”
“Are you all at home?”
There w
as a pause and then she said, “No, dear. We’re at the hospital.”
Over the next several minutes I had an inner debate with myself, trying to decide whether it would be appropriate for me to show up at the hospital offering my support. I’d gotten to know Cade and his father to a degree, but it was a small one, and I wasn’t family. Maybe he hadn’t contacted me because, right now, he didn’t want me around.
Still, we’d become friends over the past several days, and I never did very well sitting idly by while a friend was in need. I picked my jacket off the edge of the sofa and walked out the door.
The first person I saw when I entered the hospital was Shelby, Cade’s daughter. She took one look at me and her face turned fifty shades of pissed-off teenager. I thought about avoiding her, but to my surprise, she got out of the chair and walked over to me.
“I’m not trying to cause any problems by being here,” I said.
Shelby crossed her arms in front of her. “Yeah, whatever.” She half-pointed to a side room. “My dad’s in there.”
“Are you okay?”
She looked at me like I was crazy.
“Why? Are you going to do something for me if I’m not?”
She was hurting. Now was the time to keep my mouth shut. I smiled and walked away.
Cade was inside the hospital room with his mother. They were holding hands as she dabbed her nose and eyes with a tissue. At that point, I didn’t even know if Detective McCoy was still alive. But I didn’t feel right about being there. I backed out, hoping no one would notice I was ever there.
I passed by Shelby on my way out and waved, trying to smile. She held the back of her hand out like she was going to flip me off, but instead made a gesture like she just wanted me to go away—fast. I walked out the door feeling like an idiot for meddling in someone else’s private business. The inner dialogue of self-criticism continued while I walked until I realized someone had been calling my name.
I pivoted on my heeled shoe. Cade was standing in front of me, out of breath. He didn’t say anything. He just wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight. I wasn’t sure how long we stood there, neither of us speaking, just me supporting him with a friendly embrace. Maybe I was needed after all.