by David Archer
No one said a word. They all knew what that pain was, the syringe. They were still waiting for the lab results of her tox screens, but they were almost positive that she was injected with Oxy. Angela remained silent, her eyes still closed, and they waited to see if she would continue or if she had enough.
"He turned me over. I couldn't stop him, I didn't have the energy. He turned me over, and he just looked at me." Angela paused for another moment. "I remember thinking that that was it. I was either going to die or be kidnapped by a psychopath. Maybe both. I felt… I felt hopeless. I was so mad at myself. I couldn't even defend myself in my own home ."
"Alright, that’s…" Lewis questioned quietly. They could all see Angela getting more and more agitated.
"Angela, focus on something else," Jake said. "There's nothing you can do about it now, and there was nothing you could do about it then. Focus on something else."
"I can't…"
"Focus on his face," Jake said. "He's looking right at you, focus on his features. Even the smallest detail could help."
"No… I don't want to…"
"Mr. Claridge!"
"Just try."
Angela's breathing increased heavily. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she kept shaking her head. She was gripping the table so tightly her knuckles had turned white. She stayed agitated until, with a gasp, she opened her eyes. She started panting and focused her stare onto the table, refusing to let any tears fall. Jason held one of her hands while Lewis put a supportive arm around her shoulders. Jake and Tina stayed quiet, silently hoping she had remembered something else, and their patience was rewarded.
* * *
“Do you remember the time,” Enrico asked, “when I stayed over with Max one night and you sprayed perfume all over our football gear? The whole team thought Max and I were into something pretty strange, thanks to you.”
Gabriella laughed. “I do remember that,” she said. “You used to stay at our house a lot. Sometimes,” she blushed, “I used to pretend you were staying there because you thought I was pretty.”
Enrico grinned. “I did,” he said. “Unfortunately, you are also six years younger than me. Do you have any idea what your Papa would have done if he thought I was looking at you that way? I was smart enough not to make that kind of mistake, chica .”
Gabriella smiled. “I was just a kid,” she said. “But I still used to love it whenever you came over. When you and Max would go hunting for turkeys, that was always good. Except the time you came back all hurt, anyway.”
Enrico’s smile slowly faded and his eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Turkeys?” he asked. “Gabriella, Max and I never went hunting for turkeys. The only time we ever went hunting was when my uncle took us out hunting deer. And what do you mean about the time I got hurt?”
Gabriella laughed, then suddenly her face became serious. “You—you and Max were hunting, and—something happened, you came home all bloody.” Confusion flashed across her face, and she glanced over to where Grandma was sitting in the rocking chair, holding baby Robin. She stared at the baby for a moment, then slowly looked back at Enrico.
“It wasn’t you,” she said. “It wasn’t you who went hunting for turkeys, it was Chance. And it wasn’t back in Texas, it was on—he went hunting near our ranch, up by Clarksville. And there was one time, there was one time when he went hunting for turkeys and—and—oh my God, Enrico, I remember! He went hunting for turkeys and he was attacked by a bear, a grizzly bear. He fought it off, but it almost killed him.”
Tears were streaming down her face, and she started talking about so many other things that she could suddenly remember. The work they did around the ranch, the way she had hired him to do odd jobs and then fallen in love with him, so many little stories about the way the boys took to him, and so much more.
“I can’t believe this,” she said. “It’s a miracle.”
“A miracle?” Enrico asked. “Gabriella, you said the doctor told you this would probably happen.”
“Yes, but at the moment, I’m claiming it is a miracle.” She hurried over to Grandma and asked to hold the baby, then told the old woman about the breakthrough.
“So you remember everything now?” Grandma asked.
Gabriella made a face. “Well, maybe not everything,” she said. “I still can’t—I can’t quite remember what happened to me. I mean, I know what happened, and I sort of remember that it was a woman who did it, but I’ve been trying to remember her face, and it just won’t come.”
The old woman smiled and nodded wisely. “It will come when it’s time to come,” she said. “That’s God’s way of helping us with things. He never gives us more than we can handle, but only what’s sufficient for what we need to deal with at this time. Just keep trusting his angels, they always do the right thing.”
Gabriella smiled and held the baby up to look into her face. “Hey, there,” he said. “Guess what? I remember you. I remember every minute of you coming into the world, baby girl.” She held the baby close and kissed her gently on the cheek. “And I remember how much I love you, and your brothers—and your daddy.”
Chapter 17
"I could see his eyes," Angela whispered.
"Can you describe them to me?" Jake asked.
"They were brown, almost like—like dark chocolate brown. They were bloodshot, and red, like he hadn’t been getting enough sleep." Angela paused and looked up at Jake. "There was something about him, it was like—it was like he was scared or something." She looked back down at the table, as if she was seeing something that wasn’t visible to anyone else.
“He said he was sorry. It didn’t really register at the time, but he actually apologized for what he was doing to me.” She cleared her throat. "And then I saw him turn and pick up the phone. He called somebody, but I don’t know who it was, and I couldn’t hear what he was saying." She looked up at Jake again. “The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital.”
Jake nodded, and turned to the detectives. “This suspect is never violent toward his victim, and if Angela is his actual target, then he would want to be especially careful with her. I think he freaked out a bit because Angela was getting away, and when he tried to catch her, she fell and hit her head. He injected her while she was lying face down, but once he turned her over, he saw the blood on her head and that’s when he realized that she had been injured. Since he didn’t know that help was already on its way, he called an ambulance and got out of the house.”
"We have a couple more questions," Tina said in a gentle voice. "If you're feeling up to it, that is."
"Yeah,” Angela said. “I'm okay, go ahead.”
"Well, the first question is pretty simple," Tina started. "Do you have any idea who he might’ve been? Has there been anyone in the past year or so who might have shown some sort of interest in you, without actually approaching you?"
Angela stopped to think for a moment, but then shook her head. "No one that I can think of."
"Except for Harmon," Lewis muttered.
"Lance is just an idiot, he’s not a killer," Angela quickly defended.
"We're looking into Harmon, don't worry," Tina assured Lewis. “Chance and Carol are on the way to speak to him even now.”
"But not because of the complaints, right?" Angela asked, drawing an odd look from her father.
"No,” Jake said. “We had planned to talk to him before we even knew that you knew him. His name has popped up on more than one occasion during this investigation, so that makes him worth looking into." Angela nodded, but still looked pensive.
"Has anything happened in the last month that might make you less accessible?" Jake asked, picking up where he left off. "Have you changed jobs, for instance, or entered into a new relationship?"
Angela gave an embarrassed grin. "No new relationships," she said.
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Really? I'm just curious, because Jason seemed awfully concerned when we found you, more than just friendship would suggest.”
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p; Angela’s own eyebrows came down as she looked at him as if he were crazy. “Jason? Of course he was concerned, he’s my brother!”
Jake stared at her, his eyes now both open wide. “Your—but, I thought he was just your dad’s partner?”
Angela relaxed and shook her head. “It’s complicated,” she said. “See, my mom was married to Jason’s dad, Floyd, back before she met my dad—met Lewis, I mean, and Jason was from Floyd’s first marriage. It’s a long and crazy story, but both his wives left him because he was a workaholic who never had any time for his family. She and Lewis had known each other for a while back then—he was a new deputy—and I guess they hit it off. Mom hadn’t known she was pregnant when she left Floyd, and I came along right after she and Lewis got married, so Lewis raised me as if I was his own. To me, he’s my dad, even though Floyd McCoy is my biological father.”
Jake managed to recover his composure. “Okay,” he said. “What about a new job, then?”
“As far as jobs go, I applied for a new research project at the university. I’ve been working through the interview process last month or so, and it looks like I'm probably going to get it. The only problem is that it means spending a few months in Venezuela."
"That could explain why the suspect became so active," Jake said. “If he thinks you’re going to be too far away, he might have been trying to switch his attentions onto one of the other victims. That would mean he had to have known that you might be getting the job.”
“I don’t know how,” Angela said. “to be perfectly honest, I don’t even know yet if I'm getting it. Be pretty hard for anyone else to find out, since only Dr. Harmon knows at this point.”
“But you feel confident about it?” Jake asked.
Angela gave a little shrug. “Yeah, I think so,” she said. “May be just high hopes, but I feel good about it.”
"Is there anything else you can think of?" Tina asked. "Anything at all in the last month?"
Angela had a look in her eye as she paused to think. She waited a second too long before answering with a very quick, "No, sorry."
Tina furrowed her brows together. "Are you sure?" she checked. "It could seem insignificant to you, but to our suspect, it could be everything."
"I'm sure," she responded, a bit too quickly this time, compensating for her long hesitation before.
Tina held Angela's gaze for a bit longer, but it was clear she wouldn't budge. At least, not with her. "Well, if you're sure," Tina said, and stood up. "Detectives, why don't you come with me? Commander Motley has already set up a protection detail for Angela, so you’ll want to talk to them. Jake can keep her company until you get back."
“We know,” Jason said. “Raymond Larson and Clint Turner, they are the top deputies.”
“Okay, but you should probably come talk to them,” Tina said insistently. The look on her face told them she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
The two detectives seemed hesitant at first to leave her with Jake, but as Tina got up and opened the door, they got up and went with her. Angela stared down at the table again and refused to look at her dad or Jason. This was all the proof Jake needed that she was hiding something.
"Angela," Jake started once the door had closed after Tina and the detectives. "Listen, this is very important. The smallest thing could make all the difference. Even if you think it's not important, or couldn't possibly have anything to do with this, there is a chance that it will. We know you're hiding something, and keeping it bottled up will help no one, including yourself. Please, help us to help you."
She paused for a moment, still staring at the table. She sighed and looked up at him again.
"I never filed a report against Lance Harmon," she said at last.
Jake narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"
"Because he's the supervisor for the research job I'm applying to. If I filed a complaint, it would remove me from consideration for this job, and I’ve just been working too hard to get it. I'm not going to throw it away because Lance Harmon can’t keep a leer out of his voice.”
"But if he’s been harassing you…"
"I wouldn't really call it any kind of harassment," Angela said. "He makes inappropriate comments now and then, but I know that he doesn't mean anything by it. He's married with kids, and we've both made it clear, in our own way, that neither of us is interested in anything like that. He just—I don’t think he realizes that what he says can be taken offensively. He does the same thing with all the girls, not just me."
"That doesn't make it okay."
"No, but it also doesn't make him your suspect."
Jake nodded. "You're right about that," he said. He'd have to call Chance now too, make sure he didn't get too aggressive in his questioning. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?"
Angela paused. "No."
"Angela?"
"There is nothing more I want to tell you," she repeated.
"Even the smallest…"
"I have my own life,” she said bitterly all of a sudden. “I don't need to tell you every freaking little detail about it!"
"No, but if it could help…"
"It has nothing to do with this!"
"Are you sure?"
Angela stared at him. It almost looked like she was trying to shoot laser beams out of her eyes.
A knock on the door broke the tension and they both relaxed. Tina had poked her head into the room tentatively.
"Sorry," she said, entering the room quietly. "Are you guys finished?"
"Yeah," Angela said angrily. "We're done." She stood up and made her way past Tina and out of the room without another word.
"What was that about?" Tina asked.
"She's hiding something," Jake said. "We should have Josie do a little digging."
"I'll call her," Tina said. "I also want to have her check to see if there might be any cameras on Angela's street that might have caught a stalker over the past few days."
"I'll call Chance," Jake said, earning him a look from Tina. "It turns out Angela never filed all those reports about Harmon," he explained. “He’s the supervisor on the research project she is trying to get, so I need to ask Chance not to be too tough on him at the moment.”
And with that, they both pulled out their phones and dialed, neither one feeling they had made any significant progress on the case. With no new leads and more questions than answers, they knew they were still a long way from solving this case.
* * *
Pete had spent most of the car ride thinking about the case. He was already starting to plan the next steps after combining the information they received from the interviews. He was personally becoming concerned that finding their suspect would be more difficult now, as the last attempt at kidnapping may have made him more cautious. After failing to get Angela, and then being chased by the police, he may be too afraid to try again. He would have a hell of a cooling off period, making him more difficult to find. Some may even see it as the case going cold, considering no one was being attacked, but that would be a grave mistake. As awful as it was to think about, they might not ever be able to find the guy until the day came when he struck again.
That led him to thinking about other directions the case could take. After failing to get Angela when he tried, and knowing that she was under police protection, there was a possibility the suspect might suddenly become far more aggressive. For the time being, all he knew was that the person they were dealing with was relatively passive, but even then he was a force to be reckoned with. Pete couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he started to become aggressive. Would he hurt Angela? Would he kill her much sooner than the others? At this point, anything was possible.
When he arrived at the coffee shop, he met up with the manager, Jennifer Cargill. It didn't take a genius to see that she was desperately overworked. With a very limited staff at her exceedingly busy location, the poor woman barely had a moment to herself. As it was, she couldn't stop working to talk to them, even after he showed hi
s ID and told her he was working with the LVPD. She nodded her head and agreed to answer any questions, but she still moved around, picking up trays and cups that were left at tables.
"Those names ring a bell," she said in regards to his questions about the three victims. "I think I heard of them on the news," she continued, picking up a stack of trays and starting for the kitchen.
"They were regulars at your coffee shop," Pete responded before following after her. "And victims of kidnap and murder."
"Well, as customers, I don't recognize them," Jennifer said. She slammed the trays down on the counter and turned back toward the kitchen exit. Pete blocked her exit.
"Perhaps if you look at some pictures," he suggested.
"I really don't have time," she tried.
"It will only take a second…"
"I don't have a second! Do you not see that there are only three people working today, including myself, a damned trainee, and the idiot who has tried to get off work for the past three weeks because of a headache! There are twenty odd people in there, and more keep coming. I don’t have time to stop and talk to anybody, or look at any damn pictures."
"Three people have died," Pete said calmly. "With your assistance, we could potentially prevent a fourth."
Jennifer paused and stared at him. She sighed and finally nodded. "I can spare two minutes," she said.
Pete nodded and pulled out a stack of papers. He pulled four of the photos out and showed them to the woman. "Do you recognize any of these women?"
Jennifer stared at them. "Yeah, by face they're easy to recognize. They used to come here every day, and I saw them on the news. They were murdered?"
"I'm afraid so."
She stared at the photos and pressed her lips together in a tight line. She didn't know what to say. Did she apologize for their loss, did she offer sympathies, did she keep asking questions? So instead, she stayed silent for a bit longer, studying the photos more. Upon studying the last photo, she scrunched her eyebrows together.