by Jon Mills
Kara swung the door open and found her father sitting up in bed with the same annoyed look on his face as usual. Although she wanted answers she didn’t want to upset him or cause another attack. Instead, Kara said, “Dad,” then leaned over and hugged him.
“I’m fine. I don’t know what all the fuss is about.” Behind her Henry walked in and her father glanced at him with a scowl. “What’s he doing here?”
“He brought me. Look, what happened?” she asked.
He shifted his focus back to her, and Henry said he would wait outside in the hallway. He closed the door behind him and her father grumbled. “You know I’m not thrilled by your choice of company.”
“Dad, what happened?”
He rolled back the blanket just a little. “I took the trash out last night and found your SUV door open, your keys and phone on the ground and…”
She nodded and took a seat beside his bed. It was clear the strain of losing her mother, the desire to rid the home of anything related to Charlie, and her involvement in the case, along with wondering if she’d been snatched, had finally taken its toll. She knew her father had always been a strong individual, never given to showing too many emotions, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t hidden below the surface. Kara clutched his hand and gave it a little squeeze. “I’m fine.”
“Well I know that now. If it hadn’t been for Bobby, chances are I wouldn’t be here now.”
“Bobby found you?”
“At least that’s what the doctor told me.”
She remembered phoning him and leaving that panic-stricken message. No doubt the news of Sam’s death and the possibility of someone coming after him had freaked him out enough that he headed over. Closing her eyes, a swell of emotions spilled over and she suddenly felt herself wanting to cry. Perhaps like her own father she’d become accustomed to burying it beneath a mask. She’d always had to be strong for others — her parents, Ethan, Michael and… her tumultuous thoughts ran amok until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She hadn’t even heard him come in. Kara looked up to find Bobby. She stood up and gave him a hug.
“I heard you were here.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “I’d just stepped out to call Lisa.”
“You been here long?” she asked.
“All night,” he said. “Took me a while to get in contact with Goodman but he managed to speak with one of the FBI agents who showed up this morning. What’s going on?”
She sighed, looking back at her father. “Long story. Look, I really appreciate what you did.”
“I thought he was gone,” Bobby said.
“Unfortunately not,” her father added as he reached for a glass of water on the side table.
“I arrived last night and found him on the ground. After getting your call, my first thought was that both of you had been attacked. I called the cops. Ambulance arrived and whisked him away. I decided to follow and stay until they figured out where you’d gone.”
“Where were you?” her father asked.
She was just about to respond when Noah walked through the door looking windswept and out of breath. “I came as fast as I could.” He hurried over and went to wrap his arm around her when she backed up. Her father and Bobby looked on with puzzled expressions. First off she didn’t want to give them the impression there was anything between them and quite frankly she was as mad as heck. Her emotions felt out of control and she was liable to say something she didn’t mean. She gestured to the door and they headed out into the hallway. Henry Ellis was sitting in a chair outside with a newspaper in hand. He glanced up and she walked past with Noah in her shadow. She made a beeline for a quiet room, an area of the hospital where she could speak without prying ears. It was cramped and had three vending machines and an icemaker. She walked in, one hand on her hip, the other ran through her hair as she approached the window and looked out. They were on the second story so all she could see was the roof below, steel air vents jutting out and a slice of the parking lot.
“Are you okay?” Noah asked.
“Why didn’t you go to Darryl Clayton’s when I asked?”
She turned around, her face a picture of anguish.
“What?”
“Clayton.”
“I heard you but I’m not understanding what that has got to do with your father.”
“It has everything to do with him. Sam is dead.”
“I know.” He stepped forward, and she took a step back keeping some distance between them. “What is it?” he asked.
“If you’d just questioned him, got a search warrant, we might have been able to stop him from doing this.”
His eyebrows shot up and he raised a hand. “Hold on a second. You want to blame me for this?”
She hesitated and looked away.
“Kara, I’m sorry you’ve lost Sam, and that your father ended up here but I had nothing to do with that. And secondly, why did you lie to me?”
“About?” she asked.
“Please. I’ve already spoken with Henry, and Tim Greer. You didn’t get the green light by Washington State Bureau of Investigation. That little stunt could have cost me my badge.”
“A badge is one thing. Someone’s life is another.”
“Oh no, you are not blaming this on me.”
“I asked,” she said.
“You’ve asked a lot. You know I’m still wading through the paperwork related to Seth Leonard, dealing with my lawyer and I’ve yet to get around to investigating the attempted abduction, and—”
She shook her head. “Don’t bother. It was made up.”
“What?”
“The attempted abduction. It was a ruse. The FBI was behind it.” She looked back at him. “That’s where I was last night. Seems they felt I was jeopardizing all the work they’ve put in over the past year to catch this guy. They’ve had Clayton in their sights for some time. If they manage to retrieve Sam’s phone they should have enough evidence to obtain a search warrant. But by then he probably will have thrown out the box of kids’ clothes and nude Polaroids.”
Noah shifted his weight from one foot to the next, confusion spreading across his face. “You want to back up and explain? The abduction in Blackmore was set up by the FBI? It never occurred?”
She nodded.
“That’s impossible.”
“Not according to Special Agent Bill Davis.”
Noah looked perplexed. “And what’s this about Clayton has kids’ clothes and Polaroids?”
“According to Sam. After we visited Clayton, Sam went back that night. He says he found evidence in his bedroom closet that might link him to the disappearance of the four boys.”
“How the hell did he get into his closet?”
She shrugged then shook her head gazing back out the window. “I guess we’ll never know.” The dark clouds that had smothered the sky the day before had now been replaced by a deep blue sky. Several herons heeled overhead.
Chapter 35
Monday, Halloween
The search of Darryl Clayton’s property was conducted early Monday morning. Kara remained at the hospital while they continued to keep her father against his wishes under observation for an additional twenty-four hours. After a lengthy and heated conversation with Henry Ellis regarding being used as a pawn in a game, it had taken the better part of a day for the FBI to sift through the debris at Sunrise Trailer Park, locate Sam Young’s cell phone and have the data retrieved from it.
Weary but curious to know if Sam’s trespassing would amount to anything, Noah joined the FBI and SWAT just as the sun was beginning to rise. Unbeknownst to Clayton’s family or his neighbors a team moved in on the place just after 6:15. The raid was fast, and over before Darryl even knew what hit him.
Standing outside, Noah watched as a belligerent Clayton was handcuffed, read his rights and removed from the property along with his son, wife and brother-in-law who would no doubt all be an accessory to what would become one of the most publicized cases since Charlie Walker.
&n
bsp; It would take days, weeks, even months before the criminal investigation division would know if any bodies had been buried on the property and if Clayton was linked to Kara’s brother. As he watched a cruiser peel away with Darryl’s wife, he turned to see them bringing out a box. Noah went over and asked for confirmation. Bill Davis nodded, set the box down in the back of the SWAT wagon and with blue latex gloves on pulled out one piece of clothing after the next and laid them on top of each other. He handed the Polaroids to Noah, and he thumbed through them, although they didn’t contain any sexual acts they were nude, and it was enough to turn his stomach.
“I figure he has more boxes like this stashed away. Those kids in there aren’t a match to the four or Charlie Walker but with a little digging, I think we should be able to get a confession out of that asshole.”
Noah nodded and handed the photos back to him. “Let’s hope so.”
Bill tapped Noah on the chest with the photos as if none of this fazed him. “At least you don’t have to worry about Halloween this year. And you can probably close the case on Seth and anyone else Walker was looking into.” With that said he turned to one of his men. “Hey, Danson, you got a cigarette?”
Over the next hour, Noah assisted the FBI in hauling out anything that could potentially be found to contain DNA, or be linked to the crimes. Another van had to be brought in just to carry all the bagged-up evidence. Strangely, unlike Seth Leonard’s home, there were no bondage devices, paintings of young boys or pornography that would lead them to believe that the family or even just one of them had an unhealthy obsession with minors. Unless of course they had a room or a storage locker but keeping a box of souvenirs in their closet seemed to contradict that theory. Even the FBI agents on scene were a little surprised. Noah overheard them talking about how it was common to find a secret compartment, a locked room or some kind of dugout created specifically for the purpose of containment and sexual gratification. The separation of normal living quarters and a place to feed the darkest regions of the mind was something they’d come to expect. Whether they found it was to be seen.
Returning home that morning, Kara tossed the newspaper down. Although a recent car crash, and a small follow-up piece to the explosion from Saturday had been front-page news, it wouldn’t compare to the feature they’d run the next day. The raid would most likely attract state and national attention. Kara held the door open as her father walked in. He’d refused to be helped inside, insisting that he was fine and it was nothing more than bad indigestion, perhaps food poisoning. She knew he didn’t buy that but to admit the doctors were right would have gone against his stubborn nature. It was easier to make up some absurd reason if only so he could remain argumentative.
“Now you remember what the doctor told you. You need your rest.”
“Ah, screw what he said. These doctors think they know everything,” he replied.
“No working in the garage, lay off the drink, cut back on those greasy breakfasts and no more late nights.”
“Why don’t I just die then?”
“Dad, you do love to over-exaggerate.” Kara went over and put on a pot of tea. She’d told him that he’d have to cut back on his coffee and switch to something calming like chamomile. Of course that went over like a lead balloon.
“Hippie tea. I don’t drink hippie teas. And I certainly am not planning on taking up yoga before you say anything.”
She shook her head as she went about filling the kettle with water while her father took a seat at the kitchen table and fished through a pile of bills. “You know, I think I might just put this house on the market.”
“You said that.”
“Did I?”
His memory wasn’t getting any better. As the kettle boiled in the background, the phone rang and Kara headed over. “That’s probably Noah with an update on the raid.”
Her father wasn’t listening or chose not to reply.
“Hello?”
“It’s just me,” Uncle Rob answered. “Just checking in with the old coot. How’s he doing?”
She cast a glance over her shoulder and gave a strained smile. “Ah, you know him. If he isn’t complaining about someone, someone is complaining about him.”
“I’m not deaf you know,” her father said.
“No, you’ve just got selective hearing,” she muttered and Rob chuckled.
“Listen, is there anything you need? Groceries or such?”
She ambled over to the fridge and peered inside. “Nope, I think we’re good for a few days.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about supper tonight. Janice will bring over some of her homemade shepherd’s pie, okay?”
“I appreciate that.”
“Any further news?” he asked.
“He has a follow-up with the doctor this week.”
“No, I meant with the investigation? Sam’s death?”
She sighed. She’d barely had time to process the loss. “No. It’s going to take some time, but they have arrested a person of interest so it’s in their hands.”
“Whose hands?”
“Can’t say.”
“Right. Man, that’s too bad. I’m sorry, Kara. I know you liked him.”
“Yeah, well…” She cleared her throat.
“And Bobby?”
“He returned home to get some well-deserved rest. He stayed with dad on Saturday but I was with him last night.”
Rob sounded quiet on the phone, mindful even. Losing his sister-in-law was one thing, to nearly lose his brother could have been the straw that broke the camel’s back.
“So I guess you’ll be heading home today or tomorrow?” he asked.
“Originally, yes but…” She glanced at her father. “I mean, I can’t leave him here alone.”
“He’s not alone, Kara. He has us.”
“You’re in Port Angeles. That’s a lot of running back and forth.”
“We were thinking of staying there for a couple of weeks. Janice would keep an eye on him while I’m at the restaurant in the day.”
“I dunno.”
“Kara. Michael has got to be crawling up the walls by now. You need to head home if only for Ethan’s sake. Think about Ethan. We can keep you updated and trust me, Janice won’t let your father get away with anything. She rules with an iron fist.” They chuckled. He wasn’t lying either. She was soft-spoken but definitely not a pushover.
“We’ll see how things pan out today,” she said.
“Alright, hon, keep us in the loop. And Kara. Get some sleep yourself. I don’t want to have to be rushing you off to the hospital.”
She exhaled hard. “Oh, no fear of that. I’m about to hit the sack.”
After hanging up she made sure her father had everything he needed before she got a few hours. She’d told Noah that she wanted to stay in the loop of the investigation even though Bill had made it clear that she was to no longer interfere. Interfere? If it hadn’t been for the tips from her mother and following up with the Claytons, Leonard or… her thoughts shifted back to Ray Owen.
She was beginning to feel bad that she’d pursued him, or caused him grief, and yet at the same time she was still intrigued by the sketches, and curious as to why he would run. She made a mental note to swing by his family home later, if only to apologize. The death or abduction of someone in a community could bring out all manner of people. Just because some were stranger than others — that didn’t mean they had anything to do with it.
As she made her way into her old bedroom, she glanced at Charlie’s empty room and felt the familiar twinge of loss except now it was mixed with a renewed sense of hope.
Chapter 36
Exhaustion took its toll. What should have been a short nap turned into four hours. When Kara’s eyes fluttered open, she found herself staring at the digital clock on the side table. The clock flashed back 3:15. The house was silent. She rolled off the bed and took a second to work out the tension in her neck from having slept awkwardly before checking on her father. H
e was downstairs, seated in his recliner with a blanket over him. The TV was on, and some daytime show was playing. She left him and went into the kitchen and pulled the blinds up flooding the home with warm light. A quick coffee, and she’d return to the land of the living.
Sitting at the table ten minutes later, she placed a phone call to Bill Davis to see when she could get her cell back and to hear an update on the Claytons.
“Bill. Kara Walker.”
“Dear lord, you’re like a bad nightmare that doesn’t go away.”
“You have my cell. I need it.”
“See Detective Goodman. I’ve already given it back. He said he’d give it to you.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Any luck with tracing that last call I received?”
“We’re working on it. Been in contact with your cell service provider.”
“And did you find the box?”
He groaned. “Do you ever stop?”
“My friend gave his life to give you the break you’ve been waiting a year for. Cut me some slack.”
She heard him sigh. “Yes. We found it, and we are in the process of trying to identify the victims.”
Her features twisted. “Hold on, they don’t match the four boys?”
“No. But our guys are still wading through the property.”
In the background she could hear phones ringing, keyboards being tapped and the hum of a busy office. Her mind churned over the findings.
“Bill, do me a favor. See if one of the photos matches a boy by the name of Caleb Weslo.”
“Who?”
“Before Charlie was abducted there were a series of attacks in Forks and Blackmore. Although it made headlines nothing ever came of it and none of the attacks were linked to the abductions. One of those boys was Caleb Weslo.”
“How would you know that? They don’t print the names for minors.”
“I spoke with his brother Ricky. The same guy who accused Kyle Harris of abusing him back in 1988. Turns out he never did. It was made up.”