Lost in the Darkness (Crusaders of the Lost Book 1)

by William Mark

  “No, sir.”

  “Good.” Polk leaned his hefty body back into his chair, causing it to creak under his shifting weight. He leaned over, opened up a drawer, and pulled out a heavy case file. He slapped it down on the desk and looked directly at Curt.

  “What?” Curt didn’t understand the meaning of the look. Polk just kept staring back at Curt without explanation.

  “I’m going to get some coffee. You can let yourself out with that visitor badge.” He purposefully looked down at the file and pushed away from the desk, walked around, and stood behind Curt. “It was good to see you, brother.”

  Polk placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and left the small office.

  Curt leaned forward in his chair and read the name on the file. It read: Joshua Walker. He wasted no time and grabbed the case file, opening it up. Inside were the files from the Valdosta side of the investigation as well as the original missing person’s case. He thumbed through the files looking at the property receipts from the search warrant of Helton’s apartment. He scanned the list and didn’t see where the adoption paperwork was listed or any listed paperwork, for that matter.

  “Damn.”

  He continued to sift through the report. He knew he would have to call the detectives in Valdosta and have them look over their evidence, hoping the paperwork was there, just not labeled. He moved on in the file and came across phone records. A handwritten name of Helton was scribbled on top. Curt quickly pinched out the phone records from the case file and stuffed them in his jacket pocket. This was exactly what he needed. He stood up and quietly slipped out of the office, out of the division, and back out into the visitor’s parking lot. He cranked up the car and left the police department unnoticed.

  As he passed by the front of the station, he looked longingly at the building. It had been his second home for over twelve years and the source of many great stories, friendships, heartache, and despair. He wondered, based on what Polk just told him of the Vail detectives, if the next time he showed up, he would leave in handcuffs.

  Chapter 41

  Curt parked in the dusty, gravel lot on the north side of Lake Ella reserved for strollers, picnickers, and duck feeders. Curt couldn’t wait any longer to look at the phone logs he had taken out of the case file. He pulled over on the other side of the lake from the police station and began studying the sheets of paper.

  The lake was as familiar to him as an old friend he passed by on the way to work every day. The feeling was still there. He used to stroll around the lake with Tracy during their courtship. He had taken Josh on trips to the lake to feed the ducks stale bread and to climb the old oak tree on the south end of the park. It was a necessity of growing up in Tallahassee.

  He pushed those memories aside while he searched Helton’s phone records for any numbers that stood out. The records went back six months, but he recalled Helton being on the phone as he came crashing through his apartment door to save Josh. In looking back, that phone call must have been significant, given the circumstances. He looked and searched for the corresponding entry. He flipped over the page, found the date, and then scrolled down the list to the corresponding time. It should be the last entry. Helton was arrested moments later after being knocked unconscious.

  He found the last entry and read the number. It didn’t register like he hoped it would. It was just a random series of ten numbers. The mystery man’s identity didn’t jump from the pages in a climactic finale. The numbers just stared back. It felt like he’d seen the number before, like knowing the lyrics to a song but not the artist or title. He leaned his head back on the headrest trying to recall where he’d seen it before but couldn’t remember. It was an 850 area code which meant it was from Tallahassee. That was promising, but in the age of cell phones and the nearly endless space for contact information, no one bothers to remember a phone number anymore. Curt drew a blank.

  He scanned the rest of the records and found the same number popping up on several different occasions. Curt grabbed a notepad and wrote them all out. He had to go old school as he lacked technology access at the moment. He cataloged when the number showed up, the date, duration of the call, and time of call. He noted whether it was Helton calling the number or the number calling Helton. When he was done, he placed the records down and studied the list. There was an obvious pattern. The numbers communicated twice a month, nearly at the same time. On the first of the month, the number called Helton, and around the fifteenth of the month, Helton called the number.

  However, there were two anomalies. The first was earlier in the month when Helton called the number, and the date stood out to Curt immediately. It was the anniversary date of Josh’s disappearance and coincided with Josh being seen at the mall. Rage slowly began to boil in the pit of his stomach. He remembered reading the text messages on Gregory’s phone from Helton admonishing him for taking Josh to Tallahassee saying it was “too risky.” It was like Helton was updating the person or possibly giving a warning. The second anomaly was the day Curt found Josh in Helton’s apartment.

  Curt realized he needed to know who the subscriber to the mystery number was. He pulled out his cell phone and opened the internet application. He punched in the number hoping it would generate a lead. After hitting send, the only hits were information websites that wanted him to pay for access to that number. After years of being a detective and using cell phone numbers as the only lead in some cases, those websites were a joke and never produced any real results. This meant the number belonged exclusively to a cell phone. It was a dead end. He needed access. He needed Louis Melton, but that was no longer an option as Alexis had made that perfectly clear.

  The fountain in the middle of Lake Ella sent a stream of water up into the sky nearly sixty feet high which added a simplistic and majestic bliss to the small lake. Curt stared at the fountain while he contemplated his next move. It had always given him a steady calm amid the chaos of detective work. It wasn’t working for him in this case which was far too important to fail. In a sense, he felt cornered; there was only one obvious method to find out to whom the number belonged. Call it.

  He looked down at his cell phone and weighed the move. He could spook whoever was on the other end if they realized it was Curt calling. Gregory had made it clear that whoever this mystery person was, he knew Curt, and it was understandable that this person would have his number saved in their phone. On the other hand, he would know who the guy was and would be able to move in on him that much quicker.

  He dialed the number but didn’t hit send. He looked through the windshield, out across the serene lake to the quaint gazebo that sat at the tip of a peninsula added to the park twenty years ago. There was a couple taking engagement pictures, using the picturesque backdrop, and it reminded him of a time in his life when things weren’t so complicated. He debated the move and decided he had to know and couldn’t wait any longer. He hit the send button.

  Shock immediately set in as his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach and rippled all the way up to his head. His heart skipped a beat as he read the name displayed on the phone’s tiny screen. It was a named contact…in his phone.

  Chapter 42

  When building a case, it is essential to answer the basic questions of who, what, when, where, why, and how. In the first five minutes of arriving at any crime scene, the what, when, where, and how are normally answered. On the scene, the where and when are established along with the what, as in, what crime has occurred? While working the scene, looking at the evidence and talking to the witnesses, the how is figured out with close precision. Then all efforts are exhausted trying to figure out the who, as in, whom to arrest and hold responsible for the crime?

  But the why will go unanswered most times and is the hardest to answer. Outside of the normal rationale of the armed robber who just wants the money, the murderer who hated his victim or the thief who wanted the financial gain, the why is the most difficult to obtain.

  Sitting across the table from a suspect, trying
to get him to talk about the what, where, who else, and the how is challenging, even with cooperation, but the why is all too often lost. The why is more likely a guess than something actually figured out. But to a victim, it is the why, he or she wants answered most of all.

  As Curt stared down at his phone, the breath left him, and his world went into a tailspin of confusion and anger. The name on his phone read: Thomas Pittman.

  Curtis Walker stormed into his house and paced furiously in his living room. The last three years of his life were spent trying to find his son, and at the same time, he was battling to find the why. Why was Josh targeted? Why was he taken instead of another child? As he searched endlessly, he failed to come up with even the tiniest bit of understanding. After a while, he stopped asking because he didn’t care why, just so long as Josh was back safely.

  After finding Josh in the homes of two homosexual pedophiles, he felt confident that he understood, however revolting, the reason for taking the boy. He was a prize to them. But as Curt found himself running down this latest rabbit hole, he found it led straight to Thomas Pittman. Now his world was turned completely upside down, and the answer to the question of why was more important than ever.

  His nervous stomps back and forth drew Tracy from the back of the house.

  “What is it; what’s wrong?”

  He was white hot with confusion and rage. He was speechless. He stared back at Tracy who grew scared with the lost look on her husband’s face.

  “What is it, Curtis? You’re scaring me.”

  “I…I…I think it was Pittman.”

  Tracy’s brow’s furrowed as her face grew furious. She stood erect and folded her arms tightly against her body. She knew exactly what Curt was saying given that he had left early that morning after Josh’s outburst during the night.

  “Okay, explain.”

  He explained his day to Tracy. He started with the jail visit and what Gregory said to confirm Josh’s statement about a third suspect. He told her about the untimely suicide of Helton and the conversation with Richards about the visitor switch, about getting Helton’s phone records from Sgt. Polk, and how Pittman’s name came up on the screen when he called the number.

  “I came straight home to tell you.”

  “What should we do? Should we turn him in? You have to do something!”

  Curt had thought of several things in response after reading Pittman’s name on his phone. Immediately, assassination crossed his mind. He also thought about asking someone he trusted at TPD to follow up, but his detective’s mind took over. He asked himself, what proof do you have of Pittman’s guilt? Pittman was a former City Councilman and a current State Senator with a lot of political juice and backing. He was the definition of a high profile target and one you don’t go after without solid proof. Curt couldn’t explain it, but his instincts said Pittman was involved. As Gregory said, it was someone with power and close to him. Pittman fit both of those requirements at the time of Josh’s disappearance.

  As far as proof against him, there was nothing but a phone call relationship with Helton. The timing and routine of the calls to Helton were suspicious at best, but any defense attorney would explain that it only proved that they knew each other and nothing else. It was scandalous being connected to two known pedophiles and kidnappers, but having a relationship with them was not illegal. It could derail his political career, but that was not going to get Curt answers. Plus, with Helton now dead, he couldn’t testify against Pittman. Also, Gregory said he hadn’t actually seen who dropped Josh off that night, so he couldn’t testify legitimately against the senator either. There was only one other known witness, Josh.

  “No, I don’t like it. He’s too fragile,” Tracy said, after Curt explained he wanted to show Josh a picture of Pittman.

  “It’s all we’ve got. If Josh IDs him, then I’ll go arrest him right now!”

  “NO! He’s been through enough. I don’t think he’s ready, and I don’t think he can handle this right now. I don’t think he’ll ever be ready. And it won’t change the fact that he’s home safe with us, now.”

  “So, we just let him get away with it? Until when? Until he does it again? If Josh is the only other person alive that can actually ID him, what do you think he’ll do if we don’t act first?”

  An icy, cold chill crawled down Tracy’s spine. She suddenly felt more vulnerable than ever. She hated her choices: making her child relive a hellish nightmare, allowing the man responsible to get away with it—or worse yet, leaving Josh exposed as the next potential murder victim in Pittman’s attempt to “tie up loose ends?”

  “There’s no other way?” she asked.

  “I don’t see one, no.”

  She nodded with reluctance as she backed up, allowing Curt to pass by her and go down the hallway. She kept her arms folded tightly, fearing for the worst. Curt took a picture of Pittman and went to show it to Josh in his room. He knew the consequences of pushing a traumatized victim, especially a child, but he felt there was no other option. He paused before going in and stood quietly outside of Josh’s door. He debated for any other way and hated what he was about to do.

  A moment later, Curt was seething with rage and brushed past Tracy. She heard Josh crying in his room. Her heart immediately sank at the sound of his cries, knowing that he had given the confirmation. Curt went straight for the door without saying anything.

  “What are you going to do?” Tracy asked panicked. She had seen this side of him once before. It was the same look he had the day after Josh went missing.

  Curt shook his head with no answer.

  Tracy stood back, crossed her arms, and looked at Curt expectantly. “When are you coming home?”

  “I don’t know…later. Go to him; he needs you.” Josh’s cries were getting louder.

  “That’s not what I meant. I mean, you’ve been back for about a week now, but you’re not home, Curtis!”

  He knew what she meant. He’d been absent for the last three years, and his homecoming hadn’t changed anything. He couldn’t rest until he had all the answers. He didn’t have an answer for Tracy, so he just held an empty stare back at her.

  “So, I ask again, what are you going to do?”

  He was devastated by what he had just subjected his son to and angry at himself for not protecting him as a father should. But that was about to end. Curt whipped open his trench coat and withdrew his Glock. He pinched back the slide and peeked into the chamber, ensuring there was a round loaded. He hit the magazine release and pulled the mag out, inspected the additional rounds, and slapped it back in the magazine well.

  “It’s better I don’t tell you.” Curt walked out of the door before Tracy could respond.

  Chapter 43

  The drive downtown was a blurred mix of rage and confusion. He barely noticed the red lights and the traffic around him. His thoughts were fixated on Pittman. He was set on killing the man who took Josh.

  His rage pushed him through the over-sized door of Pittman’s old law firm, which he still used for his Tallahassee headquarters during the legislative session. He yelled at the young woman behind the reception desk, startling her nearly out of her chair.

  “Where is he?”

  “I need you to calm down, or I’m calling the cops.”

  “They’re already here. Where’s Pittman?”

  The young woman struggled to understand what the angry man in the trench coat wanted. She had dealt with plenty of disgruntled customers working for a law firm, but she wasn’t sure how to handle issues surrounding the senator. She stood up at her desk as she slipped her hand on the panic button under the desk while trying to calm the man as he paced around the small lobby.

  “He’s not here. Can I help you with something?”

  “No, you can’t. I need to know where he is.”

  “Well, I work for the law firm not him, so I’m not sure how to help you.”

  “If he’s not here, find me someone who can help me.” Curt stepped up to the
top of the desk and loomed over the desk.

  The woman picked up the phone and punched some numbers but remained standing, keeping distance between herself and Curt. During the calm, Curt let his eyes wander, and a glossy flyer advertising a fundraiser caught his eye. The guest of honor was Thomas Pittman. He reached over the top of the desk and grabbed the flyer. It was being held that day and within the hour at the University Club at Doak Campbell Stadium.

  Curt immediately turned and left the law firm just as two men with shirt and ties came out of a side door behind the receptionist.

  “What the hell was that about?” the older of the two asked.

  “I don’t know. He wanted the Senator but wouldn’t say what for.”

  “Huh. Well, call his assistant, and let him know.”

  ***

  Curt sat outside in the parking lot with a blackened heart, contemplating his next move. He’d known Pittman for years from his time as a detective and had considered him a friend. Pittman poured money and resources into finding Josh after his disappearance and had checked in with him almost daily. He was there for him in his family’s time of need. He never gave it a second thought when Pittman came to visit just a few days before. Now he realized everything had been for show and to stay close to the investigation. Curt was still fuzzy on the why. Pittman was a State Senator; what reason could he possibly have to take Josh?

  The University Club sat on the top floor at the east end of the massive brick behemoth that was Doak Campbell Stadium. Affectionately known as “Doak,” the stadium holds 83,000 people to cheer the Seminoles on various Saturdays throughout the fall. The University Club has a bar and dining area that overlooks the field and caters to the more influential boosters. The fundraiser was being held on the fourth floor of the University Club, in a large banquet hall that features a circular window in the far wall, like an oculus that overlooks Tallahassee.