by Elle Gray
“I came downstairs, not sure what happened, but I ran straight outside to see the damage. I noticed the broken window and then my neighbors came outside a moment later to see if I was alright, but there was no one else around. No one who could’ve done this. And they disappeared without a trace. If it was some kid they wouldn’t be so sneaky. The person who did this wants what I have.”
“What is it that you think they want?” Olivia asked curiously, but Susan had already moved on.
“They want me to suffer. They don’t want me to have nice things like everyone else,” she slurred a little. As she did, Olivia noted the smell of alcohol on her breath and winced a little. Her drunken mumbling wasn’t going to help anyone. She looked at Maggie, who nodded and placed a hand on Susan’s arm.
“Why don’t you come and stay at the station overnight? We’ve got beds there; you might feel safer than being in the house. I can stay here and see if I can figure out who did this. I’ll get a board for the window until you come back.”
“They won’t find anything in my house,” Susan muttered. “I have nothing they want. I have to get out of here. I can go stay with family. This town just isn’t right anymore. It’s not safe for me. I have to leave.”
“You’re in no state to drive,” Olivia reminded her, trying not to point out that she was clearly steaming drunk. “It’s been a rough evening. Let us take you to the station and we can get you settled in for the night.”
“I don’t want to be here... not here…”
“You can drive to see your family in the morning when you’re feeling better,” Olivia told her calmly. “I think it’s for the best that we keep an eye on you, okay? Let Maggie take you to the station.”
It took some time to convince Susan to abandon ship and get into Maggie’s car. She was growing more and more upset, but by the time she was put in the back of the police car on the way to the stations, Olivia felt a little calmer. Susan’s presence had been unnerving in some ways, and she hadn’t been able to think straight. After she was gone, Olivia stared at the window, peering in to see what had done the damage. The brick was the same color as the house, and she soon spotted a small pile of loose bricks at the side of the house.
“Seems like someone was just being an opportunist,” Olivia said, showing Brock the pile of bricks. He shook his head.
“But what’s with the vanishing act? How can someone do something so disruptive and then get away unnoticed?”
“I guess they’re used to it,” Olivia shrugged. “Doesn’t it feel familiar?”
“You think it’s the kidnapper?”
“Maybe. It’s just the timing of it all. Susan’s right. It does feel targeted. She’s Hayleigh’s neighbor, after all. She did give evidence too. She makes a good point. Maybe someone has it out for her. Perhaps this was a warning. Not just to her, but to all of us. Maybe the person who did this wants us to know that they’re watching.”
She glanced around, wondering if she was being watched right at that moment. She felt so cold all of a sudden that it turned her stomach. If they weren’t alone, then maybe they needed to tread more carefully. Maybe they needed to watch their backs too.
Maybe they’d be the next target.
Twenty
Olivia found herself facing another sleepless night. Ever since she saw what happened to Susan’s window, she’d been feeling oddly paranoid. If Susan was right and there was a target on her back because she gave evidence, then what sort of grudge would the kidnapper have against someone like Olivia or Brock, the ones actually trying to solve the case? Out in her little cabin in the woods, Olivia felt like she was truly alone, especially since Brock was spending a rare night in his B&B. If someone wanted to come for her in the middle of the night, there would be no witnesses, no one to protect her. Even the police patrols didn’t stretch as far as her cabin.
But despite her paranoia, she made it to the morning without incident. She’d listened to every sound in the forest through the night and hadn’t even heard so much as a crackle of leaves nearby. She truly was living in fear. She had to remind herself that she was a well-trained federal agent more than capable of defending herself, but just one single brick sailing through Susan Combes’ window felt like it had changed the game entirely for Olivia.
She got up and showered, feeling even more vulnerable as she stood naked in the stall. She wondered if the feeling would ever go away again. It was worse then, but it hadn’t gone away for a while. Ever since the disappearance of her mother and her sister’s murder, she’d questioned whether she’d be next. Half of her family unit was unaccounted for. Why was that? Another unsolvable case that Olivia had to live with all the time. But despite her tiredness, Olivia felt determined. Something told her that they were creeping closer and closer to the truth and some kind of solution.
When Olivia got out of the shower, she found she had several missed calls from Jonathan and Brock. She called her boss first, knowing that the two calls were likely related. Jonathan picked up almost right away.
“About time,” he said coolly. “I don’t know if you’ve heard from Brock now, but you need to go up to Alexandria. There’s been another kidnapping.”
Olivia’s blood ran cold. It seemed wrong. Had the kidnapper moved onto another area, the way they moved from Seattle to here? Had they decided that the risk was too high in Belle Grove now that police were crawling the streets twenty-four-seven? Her heart thudded uncomfortably hard in her chest, making her feel a little nauseous.
“Are you sure we’re looking at the same kidnapper?”
“You tell me once you get there. Police are still on the scene and they’re currently looking for witnesses. Missing girl’s name is Tasha Hart. If you can get up there and speak to everyone involved with the case, it might shed some light on everything you’re doing over in Belle Grove.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Be quick, Olivia. We have to wonder if the kidnapper is becoming more frenzied. So many attacks in quick succession on our watch doesn’t look good for us. We need to find out what’s going on before the name of the Bureau is tarnished.”
Olivia pressed her lips together. Was he really more concerned about their image than the thought of young women being kidnapped and held captive every day? And besides, if this case did fall apart, it wouldn’t be the Bureau’s image being tarnished; it would be her own. She was the one in the middle of it all, responsible for this case. People would call her capability into question. She’d be reassigned to menial cases, or worse, desk duty. She knew she had one shot to make things right, and she wasn’t going to waste it.
“I’ll see what’s going on.”
“Good. Keep me updated.”
He hung up before she could respond again. She was more than irritated by his attitude during the phone call, but she didn’t have time to feel sorry for herself. She got dressed after Brock sent her a message letting her know he was already on his way to pick her up. Ten minutes later, she was in the car with damp hair and her phone in her hand, typing up a text to Maggie to let her know where they were going and to ask about any updates she might have.
“Maggie said that Susan refused to stay at the station overnight and got a ride to her family’s house in the end,” Olivia reported to Brock, with a shake of her head. “She must have really been shaken by the whole thing.”
“She’s paranoid,” Brock insisted. “I know that it’s a scary time, but it’s made ten times worse by her drinking and her mental state. She needs to go to therapy or something. She’s clearly been having a hard time for a while now, but I guess she must feel like she's all on her own.”
“At least she has some family nearby that she can rely on,” Olivia said, feeling a stab of pity for the woman. But after a moment, she reconsidered why she did. If Susan had some family she could call upon, then she was definitely in a better situation than Olivia was. Olivia hadn’t had an actual conversation with her father in a long time, and though Paxton checked in every now and then, it wasn’t like the t
wo were about to just call each other up for a casual chat.
She pictured Susan going to her family’s home and being welcomed with open arms. She imagined some maternal parent offering her a sobering cup of coffee and a blanket. And all of a sudden, Olivia felt so homesick that she had to wind down the window and get some air just to feel like she was capable of breathing.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine with her family, especially if they’re out of town. If this hit in Alexandria is the kidnapper, seems like they’re too busy to be chasing Susan down, anyway,” Brock pointed out. Olivia shuddered.
“I wonder if this will be a lead. It’s so soon after Hayleigh... the attacks are getting much closer together.”
“We can only hope.”
The drive took some time, and Olivia spent the majority of the journey updating her notebook. She added the details of the brick incident and the few details she knew about the kidnapping in Alexandria. She was desperate for knowledge, begging for any kind of direction to go in. She felt like she’d been idle too long, making up theories and hoping they’d turn into fact. Now, if they found a solid piece of evidence, then maybe one of her theories would finally have some proof.
When they arrived at the scene of the crime, Olivia immediately realized something was off. Police were milling around the property, but it looked so different from the homes of the other victims that Olivia was instantly sure that the cases couldn’t be connected. She knew she was jumping to conclusions, assuming that the class of the victims was a factor in the case, but she just had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Olivia said, staring at the house. It was by no means in a bad state, but compared to the large, airy townhouses of the families in Belle Grove, it was clearly nowhere near as grand. In fact, it was at least half the size and twice the age of any of the other houses they’d been to. The garden looked a little overgrown, like whoever lived there simply didn’t have time on their hands to care for it, and there was no car in the driveway, much like many of the houses on the street.
“You never know,” Brock shrugged, unclipping his seatbelt. “We’re assuming that the kidnapper goes for rich kids, but we don’t want to overlook anything at this point. The pattern might be changing if the kidnapper is getting more desperate. Let’s go and see what we can find out.”
Olivia reluctantly followed Brock out of the car, feeling like they were about to waste a colossal amount of time, but she knew he was right. They had to check for connections, and at the end of the day, this was still a young girl that had gone missing. This was still a family who needed their help. She approached one of the police officers and explained why they were there.
“I’m not sure how much we can help you right now,” the officer told them. “We’re dusting for fingerprints right now, trying to find some evidence. We’ve also got some muddy boot prints to take a look at in the house. The parents think that this might be the work of a jaded ex, though.”
“Of a teenage girl?” Olivia frowned. The officer glanced at her with a confused look on his face.
“Well, I wouldn’t say she’s a teenager. She’s eighteen. Definitely old enough to have had some boyfriends in her life.”
Olivia looked at Brock and shook her head. Now she knew for certain that something was wrong. Jonathan hadn’t mentioned that the girl was older than the other victims. She knew that it was possible that age wasn’t a factor in the targeted attacks, but they’d established a pattern with the other girls. All three previous victims were between the ages of fourteen and fifteen—and it was a pretty big gap to eighteen.
“This isn’t right…”
“We still have to investigate,” Brock insisted. “You know we do. If the kidnapper is as smart as we think, then maybe this whole attack is a red herring to show us that we’re no closer to finding them than before.”
“But there’s already signs of evidence at the scene. There might even be fingerprints here. This isn’t anything like what we’ve been looking at. The muddy boot prints? That’s a rookie mistake. Shoes can give a lot away. I just don’t think the kidnapper is that much of an exhibitionist…”
“What about the brick through the window?” Brock argued. “This might be a cry for attention. Maybe they’re getting bored of the chase. Maybe they want to be found. Stranger things have happened, right?”
Olivia murmured under her breath, not feeling sure of anything at that point. She knew Brock was making good points, but every fiber of her being told her that they were in the completely wrong place. What if the kidnapper targeted Belle Grove while they were out of town? What if they were relying on this misdirect to move on to their next victim?
But Olivia had no choice but to follow Brock to the police station to speak to the family. When they arrived, even the family seemed wrong to her. They didn’t have the same air about them. She noted the mother’s weathered hands, the father’s deep frown lines, their casual clothing. They seemed comfortably middle class, but not anywhere near the league of the other families. And neither one of them was remotely blonde.
“This is Ashleigh Hart and Sam Hart,” an officer introduced Brock and Olivia as they entered the interrogation room at the police station. “The parents of our missing victim, Tasha. I’ll give you some time to speak to them while I make some calls.”
“Thank you,” Brock said, taking a seat opposite the distraught parents and shaking their hands. “We’re looking for any information that might help us with a serial kidnapping case. If this case is related then we’ll need to know everything we possibly can about what happened to your daughter.”
“I’m not sure how much we can help you. We’re already pretty sure about what happened,” Sam started, his dark eyebrows knitting together. “We’ve been having some trouble with Tasha’s ex, Alex. He’s been coming to the house late at night, banging on our door and trying to get in. We’ve threatened to call the police a few times and that’s usually enough to make him leave, but maybe he finally snapped. The shoe prints in the house look around his size, but that’s just a guess.”
“Does your daughter have blonde hair?” Olivia asked, ready for an answer. She was sure that was a crucial detail. Brock glared at her for changing the subject, but Sam seemed happy to answer her question.
“No. She’s got dark hair like us.”
“And would you describe her as having a babyface? Currently, the victims in our case have been young girls, fourteen or fifteen. Do you think she could possibly be mistaken for a young girl?”
“I doubt it,” Ashleigh said, looking anxious as she spoke. “If anything, Tasha looks older than her age, especially when she’s wearing makeup. She’s always had a full figure. There would be no mistaking her for a child.”
“Okay. Thank you,” Olivia said, feeling irritable as she took some notes in her notepad. She couldn’t understand for the life of her why Jonathan had thought the case might be related. Anyone with any knowledge of the case would dismiss Tasha’s situation entirely.
They stayed for a while longer, but Olivia let Brock lead the questioning, quietly seething at the fact that they’d wasted their time. She knew the case inside out and she saw right from the start that they were looking in the wrong place. And now they’d wasted a whole afternoon that could’ve been spent trying to track the actual kidnapper.
She was so angry that she felt like she was about to burst. She wished they could just get up and leave, but Brock seemed intent on carrying out the interview all the way to the end. Even though she knew it was their job to at least check, she was desperate to get back to business.
When Brock eventually stood and shook the hands of the couple, Olivia felt some of her anger slip away, but as they headed back to the car, she could sense Brock’s irritation with her. It was only after they were both seated inside that he inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself, and asked her the question she knew was coming.
“What the hell was that? We were trying to conduct a
serious interview and you just checked out completely. What happened?”
“There was nothing for us there. We wasted our time,” Olivia replied irritably. Brock sighed.
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes I do. How many hours have we spent studying this kidnapper? I haven’t slept in weeks, staying up and thinking about this case instead. We know the kidnapper has a certain type of victim, and I knew from the moment we arrived that this was wrong. I can’t believe Jonathan sent us here.”
“Okay, so what if it was a dead end? We have to keep exploring new avenues, you know that. Why are you so upset about this one?”
“Because every second we waste means that the kidnapper is one step closer to taking someone else!” Olivia cried out. “Every second we’re looking in the wrong direction, we’re letting down another child. Every second we’re exploring the wrong avenue, we could be missing something crucial. I’m tired of getting nowhere, Brock. How are we supposed to ever get to the bottom of this if we’re not putting all of our time and energy into the right places?”
An uneasy silence settled into the car. Brock stared at Olivia; she knew her cheeks were flushed red in anger and embarrassment. She couldn’t believe she’d just blown up like that. Her emotions had been building up the whole day, but she was usually so in control of her feelings. But she was so tired of it all that she couldn’t hold it back anymore. She really needed something to change, but it was like everything was standing still.
“You know what you need?” Brock finally broke the silence. “A huge burger and a coffee.”
“Brock…”
“No arguing, Olivia. You’re burned out. Anyone can see that. We’re going to have a meal and talk things over. You’re no use to anyone when you’re this wound up. Hey, I said no arguing.”
Olivia’s mouth hung open, all her unspoken words waiting to spill out of her lips, but she stopped herself. Brock started the car and began to drive, so Olivia let him. He was right. She needed an intervention, even if she hadn’t asked for one.