Burning Proof

by Janice Cantore

  Known chiefly for Edwards Air Force Base, the area had had its share of housing booms and busts over the years. Affordable housing boomed in the eighties and nineties, then crashed with the housing market. The commute from Palmdale/Lancaster to LA was a long nightmare, and when the job market crashed in LA, thousands of houses went into foreclosure in the Antelope Valley. Luke remembered reading conflicting accounts about whether the community had fully recovered from the 2008 crash. He knew the valley primarily from driving through it on the way to fishing and skiing in Mammoth Lakes. All along the 14 freeway, they passed through brown canyons sparsely dotted with homes, and he wondered how anyone could consider this a great place to live.

  “Makes me thirsty just to look at all this dryness,” Woody said as if reading Luke’s mind.

  “Me too. It reminds me a bit of Iraq, just no sheep or shepherds. Or bombs.”

  “I worked with a kid for a little while who liked it out here. Said his money would buy him a much nicer house than he could get in Long Beach. He ended up quitting the PD and getting a job out here somewhere.”

  “Hope he’s happy.” Luke knew that if he lived out here, he’d miss the ocean and the beaches he was close to now.

  They’d been on the road for two hours when they dropped down across the LA aqueduct and into Palmdale. The mall was on the west side of the freeway, and they exited on Rancho Vista. Ten years ago Molly and her family had lived on the other side of the Antelope Valley freeway, off Pear Blossom Highway, about fifteen minutes from the mall. They moved to Tehachapi after the crime, not only because of the incident, but also because Molly’s father got a job at a school there.

  After circling the mall, checking out the bus stop, and getting their bearings, they started out for the area where Molly was assaulted. Woody drove as Luke timed the trip from the Antelope Valley Mall to where the sexual assault would have occurred, a location close to Highway 138. They knew that the defunct mall was gone, replaced a few years ago by a big-box store.

  “Molly said that before the assault, after they left the mall, the man was nice and polite.” Luke held a copy of the police report in his hands. “She and the suspect were talking about a band. Molly was wearing a Switchfoot T-shirt; the suspect said he’d seen them in concert. It was a few minutes before she realized he wasn’t following her directions. He wasn’t taking her home; he was traveling the wrong way.”

  He turned the page, looking up and noting that it took fifteen minutes for Woody to reach the spot where the strip mall would have been.

  “He apologized and pulled into the parking lot as if he was going to turn around. But once he was around back, his entire demeanor changed. Molly said it was like he yanked on an evil mask. He produced a knife, forced her into the backseat.” Luke bit back his anger and skimmed this part. “She begged him to let her go. He slapped her several times, saying, ‘You can’t stop me. I’m the top of the food chain and you’re just an afternoon snack.’”

  “Definitely a sick groundhog who needs to be stopped,” Woody said, turning to Luke with a frown. He’d pulled over to the side in order to be certain about what direction to travel next.

  Luke shook his head and continued. “Once he was finished, he bound her hands and feet and tossed her into the trunk. He told her that where they were going, no one would hear her scream, so stay quiet and save her strength.” He looked up. “From here, she was pretty sure he turned left. And that makes sense if we are to reach the spot where she was rescued after escaping from the trunk.” Luke pointed to the map. It was out in the general direction of Rosamond.

  Woody nodded and headed that way, traveling on Highway 138 for a few miles before turning onto 140th Street West.

  Molly told police officers at the time that it felt as if the man drove for an hour before she managed to free her hands. There was no way to know the exact route the rapist took. Woody followed the path that the sheriff had indicated to travel. He drove the speed limit, angling for the spot on the map where Molly was rescued. While Palmdale and the area around the mall had been dense with development, it was not so out here. Palmdale gave way to a part of Lancaster, full of tumbleweeds and scrub brush. Luke remembered reading that the Air Force personnel who found Molly were driving around looking for a safe place to do some target practice. There would be few other reasons for anyone to be out here. Woody had spoken to them on the phone, but neither was able to shed any more light on that day in the desert.

  Luke settled back in his seat. For the entire time the suspect drove, Molly worked to free her hands. Luke glanced down at the pictures taken of her when she was in the hospital. She sported a black eye, and both wrists were bloody and rope-burned. The deputies who responded said that if it did take a whole hour to get to where Molly was found, the suspect was taking his time. Luke wasn’t surprised by the discrepancy. He imagined that for Molly, brutalized and tied up in the dark trunk of a predator’s car, any amount of time probably felt like an eternity.

  He watched the scenery go by as development thinned out into empty spaces. From the map he could see several small airfields out here and a whole lot of nothing. One of the responding deputies had thought perhaps the suspect was heading to Tylerhorse Canyon, a canyon actually located on the Pacific Coast Trail, and considered to be in Rosamond, which was in Kern County, not LA County. But that was pure conjecture; there was no way to be certain. Luke couldn’t imagine what Molly went through on this hot and dusty drive, and he thanked God she’d survived.

  At least it was cool today, Luke thought, not desert hot. Fall temperatures reigned; he guessed it was about seventy. Woody crept along, and Luke read weathered signs that advertised a new housing subdivision. Letters were missing but Luke guessed the place was to be called “Quiet Oasis” with homes priced from the low $200,000s. Obviously the project never materialized. They eventually reached vague dirt roads and pads for the houses, but too many years had passed since anyone had done anything with them, and they were fading like sand structures under the onslaught of the waves.

  Luke cringed at the thought of sixteen-year-old Molly, barefoot, half-clothed, and scared to death, running out here looking for someone to save her. Thank God the Air Force guys had been here. The landscape was desolate.

  Woody stopped the car, and he and Luke climbed out to look around, more to stretch than expecting to find anything.

  “He could have been planning to dump her anywhere. Probably had a shovel in the car,” Woody said, hands on hips, surveying the area.

  Luke nodded. “Yep. Deputies looked, but this is the middle of nowhere.” He turned at the sound of an approaching vehicle. “I guess not quite nowhere. I wonder where they’re going.”

  A large SUV was headed for them and slowed to a stop when it reached them.

  The driver’s window rolled down, and a bemused woman poked her head out. “What are you guys doing? Is the housing project going to be restarted?”

  “Nope, not by us,” Woody said. “We’re conducting an investigation into an old crime.”

  “Oh, okay. Did something happen that I should be aware of?”

  “It happened ten years ago.” Luke gave her a brief recap and one of his cards. “Are you familiar with the area? Ever seen anything strange?”

  “I vaguely remember that case. I’ve lived here all my life. But now the only strange and sad thing I see are dumped animals. People lose their house and can’t take their dog to an apartment, so they find a remote spot and leave them. That’s about the only reason people drive to this area. I’m with the local dog rescue. Maybe if the housing project was revived, dumping animals would happen less in this spot.”

  “You find a lot of dogs?” Woody asked.

  The woman rolled her eyes. “Too many.”

  “What happens to them when you find them?”

  “We evaluate them, get them medical attention if they need it. Find them foster homes and place them with new families if we can.”

  “I love dogs. Just had to put
one of the best dogs ever down. He was a seventeen-year-old Lab.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry for your loss. Here’s a card.” The woman held out her hand with a business card in it. “I’m Carol. We have a website. If you’re looking for another dog, consider rescuing one. I’m sure we’d find one that would be perfect for you.”

  “Thanks.” Woody took the card.

  “I’m looking for a pregnant Lab mix. Have you seen any dogs?”

  Both Woody and Luke said no.

  “We’ve seen no signs of life so far,” Luke said.

  “We’ll keep our eyes open,” Woody said as he put the card in his wallet.

  “I hope you solve the case,” Carol said before she rolled the window back up and drove off over the dirt road.

  “I guess we’ve done all we can do here.” Luke looked at Woody.

  “Agreed. Let’s get going to the next stop.”

  As they climbed back into the car, Luke’s thoughts went to the next stop, lunch with Faye. He looked out the passenger window and smiled with anticipation, truly looking forward to spending time with the beautiful, compassionate blogger.

  CHAPTER

  -43-

  AFTER RETRACING THE CRIME, Woody and Luke finished their survey and made the hour drive to Tehachapi, arriving a little after one. They checked into the hotel Faye Fallon recommended, and Luke sent her a text.

  “She wants us to meet her at a deli,” Luke told Woody. “That place we drove by, the one you thought looked good.”

  “Great. I’m starved.”

  Luke agreed, and a few minutes later they ordered a late lunch and joined Faye at a table in a wonderful-smelling German deli.

  “So did the two of you find anything on your tour of the valley?” Faye asked. Luke couldn’t help but notice how casually beautiful the woman looked wearing jeans, a light-green sweater, and a baseball cap, her long blonde hair pulled into a ponytail and sticking out the back of the cap.

  “Unfortunately, no,” Luke said. “But we have perspective.”

  They went over their reconstruction of the crime, the time line, and their investigation so far.

  Faye looked over their notes. “Thanks. You guys are doing a great job. You sifted through so much in such a short time. I’m not at all worried about the statute of limitations expiring before you stir up a good lead.”

  Their lunch came and for the next few moments everyone concentrated on their meals.

  Luke swallowed a bite of his ham sandwich. “Yesterday I did get a chance to talk to the person who called that tip in ten years ago, the one I asked you about.” He told her about his meeting with Brenda Harris.

  “It’s odd that the tip would have been left hanging. I certainly never heard anything about it.”

  “Not really so odd,” Woody said. “I’ve been on task forces, big deals where there’s a tip line open. So much information is generated in a short period of time. It wouldn’t surprise me if someone made a note of ‘Iraq’ and meant to follow it up, but never got back to it for one reason or another. I hate to say it, but cops are human; things get missed.”

  “It would be nice if that pans out.” Fallon frowned.

  “What’s the matter?” Luke asked.

  “That name, Barone. Ever since you called, I’ve been thinking. It’s vaguely familiar.”

  “I found him. He owns a computer shop here in town.”

  “Here?”

  Luke nodded.

  “That’s not it. I see a tech guy in Palmdale if I need help.” She made a face of frustration.

  “From the crime file?”

  “No, I can’t place it.” She shrugged. “It will come to me. I’m afraid I have bad news as far as Molly is concerned.”

  “She’s not ready to talk to us.”

  “No, not at all. I think I told you that she was hit by a car a week ago and is working through some pain and being slightly immobile. She’s not up for any company. Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I understand. But I’d like to throw a new wrinkle into the mix.” He told her about Abby, her offer of help, and her background, why she might be the right person to talk to Molly. “If we call her, she’ll be here as soon as she can. What do you think?”

  “I’ve read about Detective Hart, I know her story, and I think that’s a great idea. I’ll talk to Molly’s mom tonight and text you. Is that okay?”

  “Perfect. We have some other things to work on—I want to talk to Gil Barone for one—and then we’re doing some work on another case. It will be great if Molly changes her mind and talks to Abby.”

  After lunch, Woody excused himself to go to the restroom and left Luke alone with Faye.

  She smiled warmly. “I can’t thank you guys enough for coming up here and looking into this case.”

  “Even if nothing pans out?”

  “I’m an optimist. I’m praying something will pan out. And—” she paused—“in a way, something has panned out: I’ve met you and your partner. We have a lot in common, I think.”

  Luke nodded, appreciating the optimism. “We do. We all want to see justice done.”

  Her expression mellowed, saddened for a minute. “Yes, it was my husband’s greatest desire to be a police officer, to help people who were victimized by criminals. You remind me a lot of Jared. I wonder why you didn’t enter a career in law enforcement.”

  Luke explained to her how he’d started at the police academy but dropped out after he realized how much time he’d spend away from Maddie. “It’s worked out. I love what I do now, and I still get to spend a lot of time with my daughter.”

  Woody came back and Luke and Faye stood.

  “Thank you both again,” Faye said. Pausing, she looked at Luke. “I hope when all this is over, we can sit down and talk more about the cold case squad and life in general.”

  Luke felt his heart warm and looked forward to that sit-down.

  CHAPTER

  -44-

  THE BELL OVER THE DOOR JINGLED, and Bart walked in.

  Gil nodded toward him. “News?”

  “Yep, it was pretty easy. Fallon is here. I don’t mind following her around.” Bart leered at Gil. “She’s staying at the La Quinta, and she just met with two guys I never saw before.”

  “What is she doing here, anyway?” He’d not told Bart the whole story; he’d only said there was money in keeping an eye on Fallon and a couple other people. Bart was, after all, his legs, the one who could sneak about without being obvious.

  “She’s all worked up about a cold rape case, like the guy said. I bought some coffee and listened for a little bit while she talked with the two guys. Apparently they’re private investigators here to work on the case. I left when they started eating lunch. Got the license plates for both cars, like you asked.” Bart handed him a sticky note.

  “A cold rape case?” Gil took the paper. “Fallon is always on about crime in her blog. Why this cold rape case?” Gil wanted to know if the reason that the case was being investigated now was because of a new lead. He didn’t think that was possible—in fact, he’d bet good money this was just a shot in the dark—but he’d like to know what the people were saying.

  “I don’t know. Something about the statute of limitations. You know that chick—it’s always about crime and victims.” Bart made an L with his thumb and forefinger and held his hand up.

  Gil agreed. Faye Fallon was a loser in one respect, but not in another. He bet every red-blooded American male in the AV knew Faye Fallon. Gil loved to fantasize about him and Fallon, what they could do together if he still had two good legs. But the money phrase was “statute of limitations.” That was why the case was being reinvestigated. There were no new leads.

  “Bart?”

  “Yeah, boss?”

  “I’m going to go home for a bit. Can you handle things here?”

  “Sure. Anything wrong?”

  “Nah, just need some downtime. Be back in a couple hours.”

  Gil rolled out of the store and into hi
s van. The fear was gone, replaced by calculation. He needed to know everything there was to know about these “cold case warriors.” Jerry had e-mailed him quite a bit of information. He doubted they’d ever get remotely close to him, but if they did, he’d show them what he was made of. Along with hacking, Gil was proficient with weapons and explosive devices. He could also make their electronic world a nightmare if he chose to. And if worse came to worse, with his knowledge of electronics, it would be a piece of cake to set up some kind of device on a timer or a remote and blow those two investigators to bits. Whatever he did, he’d plan it carefully.

  Once home and safely locked inside his man cave, he powered up his personal computer, set up with an Internet connection that was more secure than the Pentagon’s.

  Luke Murphy was easy to find, YouTube videos and all. Gil sneered. For such a proficient PI, he wasn’t that computer savvy. He had some safety protocols on his home computer, but in half an hour Gil was through them, and he knew everything there was to know about the private investigator. Still lived with his mommy and daddy. Hmm, he had a pretty little daughter.

  Gil checked out the kid’s electronic trail and then filed away what he knew about her, thinking it might be useful at a later date.

  The other guy, Robert Woods, was more problematic. He didn’t have an electronic trail. There were a couple news articles about him. Gil pulled them up and printed them out. The guy was old, probably didn’t know anything about computers. Gil’s dad had resisted computers to his dying day.

  His next foray into cyberspace was to find the victim. He never knew the full name of his victim ten years ago, and the blog only used a first name and gave no address. Gil knew it wouldn’t be a problem to ferret that information out for himself. He could access so many databases that he had no business accessing.

  When he found the girl, he sat back and laughed. She was right in his backyard, living in Lancaster, working for an ambulance company. And she had family living even closer, here in Tehachapi. If he could still stand, he would have been dancing. He doubted that she would be able to identify him now, but seeing her name and remembering the night she got away made him angry. He picked up the grip strengthener he kept on his desk and began to squeeze, five times with the left hand, and then transfer to the right.