Dead and Gone

by Tina Glasneck

  “Mr Jenkins?” Hopkins smiled and flashed her badge. “I’m Agent Hopkins and this is Agent Horan. We’re with the FBI.”

  John Jenkins nodded, opened the door further and stood aside, allowing them to enter. “Come on in.”

  Hopkins nodded and Chris followed her inside, lapping up detail as they walked through the house to the kitchen. The photos on the walls showed a pretty, red-haired woman smiling at her college graduation and in various locations around the world. At some point, she’d changed her hair color, reverting to her natural blonde.

  When they entered the kitchen, Chris saw that same woman, sitting with a cigarette in one hand and her chin in the other. She looked a lot like the other victims, except she was alive.

  “Sarah? Those FBI agents are here.” Jenkins flashed a sad smile at his wife, then turned to Chris and Hopkins, his voice harder. “Take it easy on her.”

  Hopkins nodded and they took a seat. She smiled. “I can’t thank you enough for talking to us, Ms Jenkins. We believe the man who attacked you has struck again. Any information you can share with us will go a long way toward catching him.”

  “It didn’t last time.” She placed her cigarette in an ashtray, lifted her chin and then undid the top few buttons on her blouse, revealing scarring from severe burns. “See?”

  Chris gave a small gasp, then composed himself when Hopkins glared at him. He spoke for the first time. “What happened?”

  “I told the cops all of this already. Don’t you guys share notes?” She sighed, took another drag of her cigarette and then blew the smoke out slowly. “That prick tormented me for weeks and I never even knew it. All I knew was that a whole bunch of things started to go wrong and I couldn’t explain it.”

  Hopkins leaned in closer. “Can you tell us about that?”

  Another sigh. “Sure. He sent a letter to my boyfriend at the time, purporting to be my lover. I lost my boyfriend. He threw steak laced with fishhooks over my fence. I lost my dog. He sabotaged my mother’s car. She crashed it, and I was lucky not to lose her too. All of this happened within a few weeks.”

  Chris shook his head. It was exactly the same as the other victims. They’d all had their lives destroyed in the weeks leading up to their deaths. It was never very elaborate. The killer didn’t seem to relish in complicated plots, nor did he have a calling card that would make it easy to detect him, or that they could warn potential victims about. But he was brutally effective. He seemed to find as much pleasure in destroying a victim’s life as he did in taking it.

  “And that’s when he attacked you?” Chris recoiled from the look Sarah Jenkins flashed him. He deserved it. “Sorry, I mean physically attacked you.”

  “Yes. He broke into my home and attacked me. I struggled, but he was too strong. After he’d knocked me out and restrained me, he stripped me naked.” She paused for a moment, a small sob escaping her as her husband placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. It’s not something I like to think about.”

  “It’s fine.” Hopkins gave a sympathetic smile. “Take your time. Please, this is all a great help. We don’t want it to be more difficult than it needs to be.”

  Jenkins nodded, wiped her eyes and continued. “As I said, he stripped me. I thought he was going to rape me and kill me. It was strange, though. It’s almost like he saw my pubic hair and recoiled. He ran to the bathroom for a minute, then came back and just started shouting at me.”

  Chris knew what had happened, but he needed to be sure. “I notice that in some photos you’re a redhead and in some you’re blonde. Which is your natural color?”

  “Blonde.”

  “Right.” Chris nodded. “So when he saw that your pubic hair wasn’t red, he lost interest?”

  Jenkins nodded. “He left me bound on the bed and knocked a candle over as he rushed out the door. I don’t think he meant to, but it set the bedding on fire. I made it out with third-degree burns across 30 percent of my body. But I made it out alive. I didn’t think I was going to get out at all.”

  “That’s awful.” Hopkins offered her best reassuring gesture, placing her hand on Jenkins’ arm. “Could you tell us what he looked like?”

  Chris prayed silently for a break, a lead they didn’t have already. He wanted a more detailed physical description, a trait or a solid detail that would distinguish the man from the other two hundred million men in America. At the moment, they knew he was in his early or mid-thirties, with brown hair and brown eyes. The search was hopeless, because there was nothing specific to search for. He needed something else.

  “I gave the police the description, six years ago.” Jenkins shook her head. “I told them his height, weight, and hair color. I even told them the name he kept saying. I—”

  “Wait a minute, what name?” Chris leaned forward. There’d been no mention of any name on the police report about this case. Or any of the others. He’d have remembered something like that. “Would you mind sharing it with us?”

  Jenkins shrugged. “Even as he was attacking me, violently, it was almost like he was distant. There was a name he kept saying, over and over again, every time he hit me or looked at me. He was muttering it under his breath. The guy was crazy.”

  Chris rushed the words out. “What was the name?”

  “Ashley.”

  34

  Ashley

  Ashley slapped her palm on the table. “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t know where she went and you’re not going to find her by talking to me!”

  “We’re not so sure.” The detective investigating Jana’s disappearance tapped his pen. “You’re the last person who saw her before she disappeared.”

  Ashley sighed. This was the second time she’d been questioned about Jana’s disappearance. While Ashley may have been the last person to see Jana, she had no idea where she’d gone. The cops hadn’t brought her in to discuss any new leads, they were just desperate to get answers and clear the case. It seemed like a spectacular waste of everyone’s time.

  “Plus, there’s the small detail of your past to consider, Ms Wheeler.” The other, younger case detective chimed in. “You came to the attention of the police in New York for several abduction attempts a few months back, and now your boss has just flat-out disappeared…”

  Ashley flared. “Plus I was a witness in a high-profile murder case, which failed, so I must be a suspect, right?”

  “Ms Wheeler, I—”

  “No.” Ashley shook her head. “I had nothing to do with this. I don’t know where Jana went or where she is. I’m not the scab you pick to break this open.”

  The older detective picked up his pen and exhaled through clenched teeth. “Okay, Ms Wheeler, I’ll level with you. We don’t know what happened to your boss. There’s no evidence in the store, in the alleyway, in her car, or on any camera footage we have available.”

  “Okay then.” Ashley leaned forward, placed her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers in front of her. “Ask what you have to ask.”

  The younger detective smiled. “Do you know what happened to Jana Greenham or where she’s gone?”

  “No.”

  The detective nodded and scribbled on his pad. “Had she mentioned anything to you about leaving town? Going to see a friend or family member, perhaps?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, finally, did you have anything to do with the disappearance of Ms Greenham, either deliberately or accidentally?”

  “No. I thought she’d gone down to the grocery store or something.” Ashley leaned back. “There’s no help I can provide. I don’t know anything. I’ve answered all your questions, some of them several times. I know you’re trying to catch me out with a lie, but there’s nothing to catch. I like Jana, I miss her, and I’m scared. That’s it.”

  “Okay, Ms Wheeler.” The older detective closed his notebook and looked at his partner, seemingly unsatisfied. “We’re just going to take a couple minutes. Will you wait here?”

  Ashley shrugged as they sto
od and walked out of the room. It was tiring to spend so much time at the police station, especially since she’d done nothing wrong, but at least the police were taking Jana’s disappearance seriously. It was just a shame they’d done little more than question her repeatedly. Ashley knew the first 24 hours were crucial in missing persons cases, which meant the chances of finding Jana were now slim and getting worse.

  After a while, the door swung open and Ashley raised an eyebrow at the detectives. “Well? Satisfied I’m not the arch kidnapper?”

  The older detective winced at her words and ran a hand through his thinning hair. He rested his palms on the table. “There’s been a development.”

  “That’s great! Do you know where Jana is?” Ashley smiled and started to stand, then sat again when it was clear they didn’t. “What is it?”

  “Someone’s come forward with a cell phone video of the kidnapping. He kept quiet at first because he thought it was a domestic issue.” The older detective didn’t seem very happy about the last point. “Unfortunately, it’s grainy. The old man who took it has a camera phone that’s older than time. Still, it proves she was taken, and it might give us something.”

  “Want me to take a look?” Ashley saw doubt flash across the older detective’s face. “I’ve worked at the store for a while now. I might recognize whoever did it.”

  The detective weighed up her words, then turned and nodded at his younger partner. The other man left the room as the detective looked back at Ashley. “Okay.”

  Ashley smiled, and they sat in silence while they waited for the other detective to return. Ashley tapped on the table softly with her thumb, glad they finally had something to chase after. With each passing hour she grew more fearful for Jana’s well-being. The woman wasn’t her friend, but she’d become something more than a boss or an acquaintance. The abduction had also rammed home to Ashley just how vulnerable she was.

  The younger detective returned to the room and put a laptop down on the table in front of her. She watched intently as he hit play and a ridiculously grainy video started up. It showed a man moving close to Jana, walking up behind her. His features were barely discernable. Ashley gasped and leaned closer as he placed something over Jana’s mouth, then caught her weight when she stopped struggling and collapsed. The video stopped.

  The older detective sighed. “The guy who was filming it got spooked, stopped filming, and walked the other way. This is all we’ve got.”

  “It’s not much. Average height, average build, brown hair.” The younger detective sat down opposite Ashley with a long sigh. “Recognize him?”

  Ashley stared at the screen for a few moments, not speaking as she tried her hardest to place the man. He looked vaguely familiar, but as the younger detective had said, the guy looked like hundred others Ashley saw in any given week. The man could be anyone – a friend of Jana’s, someone she’d met during one of her late-night bar hops, or even a complete stranger. Ashley had told the police everything she knew and, though this video proved Jana had been taken, she had nothing to offer that could help them track down her abductor.

  Finally, Ashley shook her head and looked up at the officers. “Nobody I could place. But, as you say, he looks quite common.”

  “Yeah...” The older detective’s voice trailed off. “There’s probably a thousand guys in the city with those exact features. But if you remember anything, please give us a call.”

  Ashley nodded. “What now? Am I safe? Should I do anything?”

  “Nothing out of the ordinary. Just keep your doors locked, Ms Wheeler.”

  35

  Duncan

  Duncan screwed up his nose at the stench as he stepped into the room. He’d held Jana Greenham captive for several days now, using that time to interrogate her. The results had been mixed, for both of them. Duncan now had some of the information he craved, but not as much as he’d hoped. Greenham had cooperated, but not nearly enough. Because of that, he’d been forced to cut her, bruise her, and abuse her.

  Unfortunately for Duncan’s nose, this had resulted in a mess he wasn’t overly fond of.

  He walked to the wall and grabbed the hose. Thankfully, he was able to wash away the worst of the mess. He turned on the water and started to spray the blood, piss, and shit down the drain, never taking his eyes off Greenham. She whimpered. He smiled and turned the hose on her. She gasped as the cold water sprayed her.

  He turned off the hose, tossed it onto the floor and moved toward her, stopping a few inches away. To his surprise, Duncan had discovered he didn’t actually like inflicting physical torture. His targets suffered mental and emotional scars, which helped Duncan keep his hands clean until their death. And in this case, he wasn’t even overly interested in the woman. The pain he’d inflicted upon Greenham wasn’t personal, it was simply a means to an end. If she had never employed the woman he was interested in, they’d never have come in contact.

  He needed information, this was one way to get it. The results had been positive, but insufficient. He grabbed a bunch of her hair, squeezed tightly and lifted his arm. Greenham gave an ear-curdling scream as she was lifted up off the chair. He held her there for nearly a minute, watching as she squirmed like a fish on a hook. Then he dropped her back into the chair, cocked his fist and smashed it into her face. As her head snapped back, Duncan cursed and shook his hand.

  He removed her gag and the mask over her eyes. “Back for another day.” Duncan’s voice was still laced with pain from the blow. “Ready?”

  Her head was slumped forward. After a second, she started to sob. “I’ve told you everything I know.”

  “Jana Greenham. Forty years old. Hired Ashley Wheeler almost two months ago.” Duncan sighed. “I don’t know how her surname became Wheeler.”

  “I—”

  Duncan didn’t let her speak. “In the time she’s worked for you, you claim to have learned little more than that about her. Let me make it clear. I don’t believe you. I need to know about her family, friends, love interests, pets, hobbies – everything. If you don’t give me more, you’re going to die.”

  “I’m telling the truth!” She gave a loud sob. “She came in searching for work and I gave her a shot. That’s all I know! She seemed like she had a kind heart, just down on her luck!”

  “That’s why you’re a fucking idiot!” Duncan shouted, as loudly as he could, spittle flying from his mouth. He clenched his fists and thrust his face forward until it was just an inch from hers. “You can’t trust her! She’ll screw you over! She’s the reason you’re here, broken and bleeding and shitting all over the floor!”

  Greenham jerked her head forward, the headbutt catching Duncan right on the chin. He staggered back, and as he did, she spat blood at him. His grimace must’ve looked terrifying, because her eyes went wide. He could taste blood in his mouth as he moved toward her. He lifted his foot and kicked her hard in the chest. She grunted at the blow, and then squealed as the chair fell back and she landed hard on the concrete floor, still strapped in tight.

  Duncan stood over her. She gave a gargling sound as Duncan’s boot pressed into her throat. “Did that feel good?”

  Unable to dislodge him, her hands tethered tightly to the chair, she could only thrash and struggle, her efforts futile. Duncan didn’t take his eyes off hers, watching as her face turned a dark color. Her eyes bulged, filled with fear and desperation and the realization that she was about to die. He usually enjoyed the moment when his targets lost all hope, when they realized their own behavior had led to their death. But in this case, all he felt was frustration.

  He’d hoped for so much from her.

  “Tell me something I can use!” he shouted, easing the pressure of his boot just a little, allowing her to breathe.

  Greenham sucked in several long breaths, then coughed them out just as fast as quickly. She tried to speak, several times, but it took her a moment. “A daughter.”

  “What?” Duncan’s mind was clouded with rage and frustration. He’d tort
ured this woman to within an inch of her life and she had still revealed nothing.

  “She has a daughter!” The woman sobbed, closing her eyes. “Please, let me go. She has a daughter. I saw a photo in her purse.”

  Duncan’s mouth fell open. A daughter. That meant Ashley Wheeler had lured some poor bastard into a relationship. Was she married? Was it a one-night stand? His mind was racing with even more questions, and he had precious few answers. Another mystery, one more lock to be unpicked to gain access to the information he needed to destroy her.

  “Will you let me go now?” Her voice sounded pathetic, desperate. “Was that information good enough?”

  “Good enough.” Duncan rolled the words around in his mouth. “A lot of this mess could have been avoided if you’d just told me that.”

  “You promised!”

  Duncan smiled and turned away from the woman. His boots sloshed in the water as he walked toward the door. The hose he’d tossed to the ground had kept running, and the woman’s shit had blocked the drain. They were both ankle-deep in water, but only one of them could escape. He exited the room and stepped up onto a rubber mat he’d put in place. The same drill he’d used on her the previous day would end her life now.

  He tested the drill to see if it was on and then threw it into the water.

  36

  Chris

  Chris broke away from the embrace. “It was good to see you, Tina. I think you’ve given Agent Hopkins here plenty to think about.”

  Hopkins glared at Chris, then smiled as she shook the other woman’s hand. “Don’t mind him, he’s just sore he’s riding shotgun on this case.”

  “I thought that was strange. No offense, Justine.” Tina Fuller grimaced. “So it’s true you got punted out of the New York office, Chris?”