Leo wasn’t convinced. “Look, I know moms think their kids are perfect. Could be Jennifer took off anyway with a guy and the mother doesn’t know her daughter as well as she thinks.”
Skye shook her head. “I don’t think that’s it at all. Jennifer had a premonition something bad was going to happen to her.”
She immediately held up a hand to explain. “I know what you geeks think about non-science, but you know how I feel about those kinds of things so don’t lecture me on how silly they are. Jennifer’s fear was palpable. According to her mom, Jennifer was having trouble sleeping. She’d been having disturbing dreams on and off for most of the semester. The night she went missing, she’d taken an Ambien to help her sleep. Jennifer’s friend Kaitlyn gave it to her. Kaitlyn also said that when she went into the apartment, she’s positive she got a whiff of chloroform in Jennifer’s bedroom.”
Josh snapped his fingers. “Stacey Dysart’s police report mentioned that the coworker who went into her house that morning smelled chloroform. That’s gotta be our connection.” He turned to Leo. “Let’s get the team together and combine all this information into one location. Is Reggie still working on those photographs Skye took from the overhang, the ones from Copalis Beach?”
“He’s blowing them up one at a time. It’s taking longer than he thought it would. But so far there’s nothing out of the ordinary except a scenic clearing with a bunch of evergreen trees around it.”
“Hold on,” Skye began when Leo started to leave. “Before we get too far into combining info, we should organize these cases into what they are as of today. We have the Mathison / Collins disappearance from ten years back. Next, is the recent disappearance of Stacey Dysart. Then there is Jennifer Mack, now missing a couple of days. Then there’s the torso found near Lincoln Park, ID unknown. I’ll start going through the database to see if there are any other similarities to these other than the chloroform.”
“There’s no way of knowing if chloroform was used in the Mathison / Collins incident, though,” Leo pointed out.
“And it will probably be weeks until we ID the torso, if at all,” Josh added.
“True. But keep in mind if what we’re dealing with is a serial offender—and I’m not saying for sure we are—he’s ramping up.”
“Why do you say that?” Judy asked, getting a little spooked at the idea of that.
Skye let out a deep sigh at having to explain the methodology. “Let’s say this killer’s been flying under the radar for ten years now. If he’s killed before and it has anything at all to do with Copalis Beach, he purposely left Clayton’s Audi there. Red flag. In my experience, that means he must be yearning for attention…from someone, anyone. In my mind, something set him off within the last week or so. He’s become more active, therefore, craving more attention than he was getting in the past, enough to take more risks.”
“That means more dangerous,” Judy finished.
“I’m afraid so.”
Harry had been hanging on every word. Feeling like a useless piece of furniture, he wanted in on the action and looked over at Skye. “What can I do to help?”
“How do you feel about taking DNA swabs from the moms involved? That way we’ll be able to fast track an ID. Wanetta and Melba are within driving distance.” She rattled off addresses from memory out of the file. “By the time you get back from swabbing them, Deborah Mack’s plane will have landed at Sea-Tac. I’ll text her and tell her you’ll be picking her up.”
“What about Lakin’s directive to stay clear of his investigation?” Josh asked.
She tilted her head in a glower. “Screw Lakin. Let him go to the mat in the Dysart case. The cops took Deborah Mack’s missing person report and have yet to even call her back or make contact. Deborah’s unwilling to sit in Montana and do nothing. Meanwhile, Jennifer is out there somewhere, hopefully still alive. Her mother wants her home, and I intend to make that happen before Jennifer ends up being another statistic.”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” Josh admitted with a grin. “What are we standing around here for? Let’s get to it.”
Skye set up a command center in her newly renovated conference room. Around the table the team sat with their heads down, hard at work on their laptops, clicking away on their keyboards.
Reggie sat alone in the far corner, examining digital images until he finally pinpointed the anomaly in the trees. He brought his proof over to show Skye. “That, my friend, is a state-of-the-art infrared camera, approximate cost, around three-grand. You can see the brand logo on the side.”
Skye leaned over the table to get a better look. “Obviously someone has some major bucks to spread around. Something tells me a Bigfoot enthusiast wouldn’t go to so much expense. Could it belong to the state park system?”
Reggie lifted a shoulder. “Probably not. It might belong to a park ranger who personally wants to keep tabs on activity up here. Because the state’s officially sanctioned cameras are different models and installed down on the beach and in the parking lots.”
Skye pressed Reggie for more. “Could it be a pervy park ranger who gets off on watching couples make-out at the scenic overhang? Or maybe homeowners from the area who want to keep track of who’s coming and going near their neighborhoods?”
“Not likely. I’m telling you it doesn’t belong to the state. I checked their equipment list. It doesn’t match any models they use. It’s way more expensive than what the budget allows for. That model isn’t routinely used by any state parks. And the neighbors would surely opt for equipment that sells for much less.”
“You’d think. Okay, then who does it belong to?”
“If you want, I can tap into the server and copy the camera files from it to my laptop. That’ll tell us everything about the owner, as well as every activity he sees from that specific angle.”
“Do it,” Skye directed. “Let’s find out what’s so special about Copalis Beach.”
Reggie worked for two more hours until finally printing out the most critical file photos from the videos he’d discovered. He laid out a string of enlargements on the conference table. On several of the images he’d circled an object with a red sharpie. He called everyone together and pointed to the object in question. “We already know it’s expensive equipment, right? But just so you know, it’s the best that money can buy, top-shelf surveillance equipment. The CIA would be the only other org that has better. And see this right here?”
Reggie slapped down another section of the frame he’d enhanced. “That is a small wire going higher up the tree. It’s a transmitter streaming a live video feed to a server…somewhere.”
“Have you tracked the source yet?” Skye asked.
“I’m doing that as we speak using my super-deluxe, bloodhound tracking software I developed myself. It can trace the signal. Already I know a few things about it. For starters, it’s bouncing off several towers, as if someone is trying really hard to hide their footprint.”
Josh looked at Skye. “I told you it didn’t look right. Any luck so far any tracking the server?”
A confidant Reggie grinned. “Whoever set this up, he knew what he was doing. He may be good, but I’m better. I’ve tracked it within a two-block area. I should have a firm location within several feet for you very soon.”
“And the two-block area is where?”
“Georgetown, close to the port, near Michigan Street in the old warehouse district.”
Skye chewed her lip. “I know that area. It thrived back in the 1940s. It’s the main place where lumber was stored and eventually shipped out by boat or train.” She angled toward Josh. “We should get the forensics gear and head down to that area. Then when Reggie calls us with a fixed location, we’ll already be there. Leo, do me a favor. Start pulling information on who owns what in that area. I mean everything the city has on the warehouses there. I need to know who owns the building in question.”
“Sure thing. Whenever Reggie locks down the address, I’ll find out the
owner.”
****
With Josh at the wheel, they raced toward the warehouse district. By the time he exited onto the 509 and turned onto Michigan Street to head towards the port, Skye’s cell phone lit up with a call from Reggie. He rattled off an address.
“Got it. Anything else we need to know, like who owns the building?”
“Leo’s still working on that. Sit tight, and he’ll call you as soon as he has something.”
Skye shifted in her seat and pointed down the street. “Keep going straight on Michigan until it dead ends at the docks.”
Josh parked the minivan in front of a small, gray brick warehouse that had seen better times.
Not patient when it came to sitting and waiting around, Skye punched in Leo’s number. “We’re here. Got anything for us yet? Okay. Dummy corporation, I get it, just keep digging, Leo.”
Josh had already gotten out of the car with the bag containing all the gear and was peering into the windows, some partially boarded up.
“There’s no clear-cut owner of this place. Just a cover,” Skye relayed as she stood beside him.
She stared at the broken panes of glass and the side of the building plastered with faded newspaper. She watched Josh force open the front door, then trailed behind as he entered into a rat-infested warehouse that hadn’t seen use in decades. There were rusted equipment, broken shipping crates, and rotted pallets still within eyesight of the loading docks.
Somewhere in the dark corners, Skye heard the sound of a rat squealing and scampering for cover. “This is where he put in a server? Something tells me we’re dealing with a weirdo.”
“Must have some ties to this place though,” Josh pointed out as he scanned what had been a reception area.
The only footprints on the dusty floor belonged to them. “Nothing looks like it’s been moved or touched in years.”
“Let’s make this short and sweet. Why don’t you take one side of the building and I’ll work down the other side? It would save time. What exactly am I looking for again?”
“Maybe a hidden room or false wall that’s hiding a server. Look for a place he could’ve stashed a computer or anything that looks out of the ordinary.”
With that, they split up. But about halfway through the search, Josh hollered for Skye. “I think I found something.”
Retracing her steps, she headed back the way she’d come until she was standing next to Josh.
“Can you see that small sliver of light coming from the floor?”
Skye bent down to get a better look. “Yep. Good eyes. But I’m not running my bare hands over that wood or anything else in here.” She dug out her gloves from her coat pocket and stretched them on. “Please don’t tell me this is like a scene from an Indiana Jones movie. Trap door in a floor? Come on. That whole bit is so stale.”
Josh chuckled. “No, just some type of rusty lever that triggers the trap door. Watch out for the poison darts.”
“Maybe he’s standing around waiting to send poison arrows our way. At least there’s no revolving chairs and a room on fire in the background. How many times have we watched that movie anyway?”
“You can never watch Indiana Jones too many times,” Josh reiterated as he felt around on the floor with his fingers in the layers of dirt.
“Says you. You’re just waiting until Sierra’s old enough to binge watch back to back installments.” Skye noticed a medium-sized crate that looked newer than the rest and beamed her flashlight around the sides. “Hey, there’s small scrapes along the concrete floor as if it’s been moved back and forth several times. This might be what we’re looking for.”
Josh hefted the crate in the direction of the scrapes, and a piece of the floor slid back to expose stairs leading down to a basement.
“Now that’s just weird. I’m sensing you’re actually going down there,” Skye said, staring into what was little more than a black hole.
“I don’t see any other way. You can stay here.”
“Yeah. Right. But it could be booby-trapped.” She dug around in the bag with the gear and brought out two pairs of night vision goggles. “We’ll need these. It’s a shame Reggie’s not here. He loves stuff like this.”
Josh gazed down into the basement steps and took a deep breath. “I’ll go first.”
The stairs were creaky, and the wood rotted away in places. They inched their way down one careful step at a time.
About halfway to the bottom, he spotted several infrared beams shooting across the fourth and sixth steps. “What do we have here? Another layer of security? What the hell is this guy doing down here that he needs to create this kind of setup?”
They maneuvered slowly around the beams like ninjas. Once on the basement floor, they looked around at the walls where photographs had been pinned to the old wood, pictures of various people taken using a long-range lens. The banner overhead read, “Potential Victims.”
They spotted the server sitting a few feet away. Skye made a live video using her iPhone for the team to see back at the office and then sent the file to Reggie. “So, what do you guys think?”
Reggie and Leo went back and forth, conferring with each other until Reggie had a suggestion. “Is there any way you could get a closeup of that keyboard, along with the screen and the back of the computer setup?”
“Be careful not to break the infrared beam,” Leo warned. “Avoid the beams the same way you did the ones on the stairs. Otherwise, you could set off an alarm that there’s been a security breach, set off some kind of chain reaction with dire consequences.”
Using caution, Josh approached the computer, shooting close-ups of everything the team had requested. “Anything else you need to look at now’s the time. If not, we’re done here.”
“Looks like a dummy setup to me,” Reggie began. “It’s obvious the video stream is temporarily stored at this location and then sent someplace else.”
Leo sucked in a breath. “I bet it’s programmed to wipe the files daily.”
He’d just made that pronouncement when the computer screen lit up and flashed a website several times before the image vanished.
“Did you get that?” Reggie bellowed.
“Josh got it,” Skye assured him.
“Leo’s pulling that site up now,” Reggie stated.
But Skye’s face flashed in recognition. “I know that website, it’s the one the Mathison / Collins family maintains for their missing kids.”
Another site appeared on the server monitor and then another and another in rapid succession.
“Did you get pics of those, Josh?” Leo shouted.
But before Josh could answer, a GIPHY of Heath Ledger’s face made up as the Joker character from Batman, popped up, interrupting all the other images. In the dark, dank basement, the GIPHY went wild, screaming out in a creepy, menacing voice, “The joke’s on you! The joke’s on you! Everything burns! Everything burns! Hahaha!”
With the last disturbing laugh, the computer burst into flames.
“Run, Josh! Get out of here,” Skye hollered as she pulled him up the stairs.
Within minutes, the basement had filled with smoke and fire, the old building acting like a tinder box full of kindling.
Once they reached the sidewalk, Skye punched in 911 as she darted toward the minivan. The fire crackled and burned behind her as she waited for Josh to catch up. She began talking to dispatch, all the while rattling off the address and fumbling with the remote key fob. She piled in and turned the key in the ignition. Once Josh jumped in the front seat, she gunned the engine, made a U-turn at the end of the street, and waited for the fire department to show up.
Eight
Judy was still cringing from the gallery of photos she’d seen on the video when Skye and Josh walked back in the office. “How on earth did you two manage to explain what you were doing there to the fire department?”
Skye cut her eyes to where Josh sat on the floor emptying a box of blocks for Sierra to stack. Lowering her voice so
their daughter wouldn’t hear, she whispered, “We sort of told them we’d been driving by the area and spotted the smoke.”
Judy’s eyes widened, astonished that Skye would bend the truth like that. “You lied to the firemen?”
“Technically, we did not lie. We were driving by. We did see the flames and the smoke. They just never asked if we were inside the building when the fire broke out. And we didn’t volunteer that information.”
“So you lied?” Brayden pointed out.
Skye straightened her spine when she saw the disappointment in their eyes. “You two aren’t listening. We aren’t responsible for the fire. We didn’t start it. We made the call to report it. What happened in that basement wasn’t our fault. I think that nutcase wanted us to find the server.”
“That’s my take, too,” Reggie said, keeping his eyes glued to his laptop. “He did an astonishing amount of staging. He planned for someone to walk in there and see that.”
Winston made a face. “Yeah. We all watched the video you took. Those pictures on the wall are really strange and creepy.”
“I’m sick of staring at them and wondering if they escaped or got away. Were they potential victims or actual victims?” Judy noted, sadness in her voice. “That’s a lot of faces to get out of my head.”
Skye turned to Leo. “Would facial recognition help us identify any of these people?”
“I could try. Although some of the images are a little too grainy and fuzzy to see them clearly enough.”
“We should at least give it a go.”
Judy noticed Skye’s demeanor. “You seem really down.”
Skye looked around the room. “It’s just that…sometimes I wonder…should we be chasing after these horrible people? We’re bound to be opening up a can of worms.” She glanced back at Sierra. “Our work will eventually impact her. I’m not sure that’s a good idea anymore. There’s a lot of sick people with sick motivations. I want to keep people safe, but not at the expense of dragging my own daughter onto this guy’s perverted radar.”
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