Catch the Girl

by Melinda Woodhall

  “I hate to be the one to say it, but he doesn’t seem to be in any condition to understand his rights, Nessa.”

  Nessa raised her eyebrows and put her hands on her hips.

  “Leo, I thought you’d given up law to become my deputy.”

  Her words earned a grudging smile from the man as Nessa stared down at Eli and spoke in a clear voice.

  “Elijah Dunkel, you have the right to remain silent. If you do say anything, what you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult with a lawyer and have that lawyer present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you if you so desire.”

  Not waiting for Eli to respond, Nessa walked past him to stand in front of the porch steps. Angel sat stiffly on a straight-backed chair, her hands handcuffed behind her back.

  Tobias Putnam, his expression grim, stood guard between Angel and Ma Verity, who was seated in her rocking chair undergoing an examination by a paramedic

  “Judith Dunkel, I’m placing you under-”

  “My name’s not Judith, and I’ve got nothing to say.”

  “Well, whoever you are, I’m placing you under arrest on suspicion of first-degree murder, as well as attempted murder.”

  Ignoring the woman’s stoic expression, Nessa proceeded to read Angel her rights, then looked over at Tobias.

  “We’re real lucky you unloaded the guns so no one would get shot. You might just have saved a life.”

  A pink flush spread over Tobias’ plump face.

  “You’re the one that saved a life today,” Tobias sad, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “My Naomi would be gone if it weren’t for you and Mr. Steele.”

  He glared over at Angel, his mouth trembling with emotion.

  “She’s pure evil. I never believed in the devil…until now.”

  Shaking his head, Leo stepped forward, standing in front of the people on the porch as if he were standing in front of a judge and jury.

  “From what I’ve seen this woman isn’t an angel or a devil. She’s just a cold-hearted killer who preys on good, decent people. And based on Florida’s most wanted list, this isn’t the first time she’s hurt someone.”

  Eli watched Angel flinch at the words, but she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead.

  “No, this is far from the first time, isn’t it, Judith?” Nessa asked, joining Leo by the porch. “You’ve been doing this for many years, haven’t you? Were Sally and Kyle Young the first people you killed? Or does it go back even further?”

  Jerking her eyes to Nessa, Angel stared at her in stunned silence, before glancing nervously over at Eli.

  “You see, Judith, we have DNA from the Young family crime scene. And guess what that DNA tells us?” Nessa walked back toward Eli, her voice softening. “It tells us that your son, Eli, is really their son.”

  Shaking her head, Judith dropped her eyes, refusing to look up.

  Memories came flooding back to Eli at the mention of his real parents, Kyle and Sally Young. He’d been only five years old when his nanny, Angel Dunkel, had told him that his parents had left him. That they didn’t want him anymore. That she would be his new mother.

  “Brandon,” Eli said, his voice cracking on the word. “My name isn’t Elijah Dunkel. It’s Brandon. Brandon Young.”

  The courtyard grew silent. Then a soft voice spoke up behind him.

  “Hello, Brandon.”

  He twisted his head around. Marie stood next to the stretcher, looking down at him with solemn eyes.

  “I’m Taylor. Taylor Marie Barker.”

  He stared at her with haunted eyes, his rage at Angel’s betrayal overshadowed by his shame at having taken part in her crimes. Then he dropped his eyes without speaking, knowing there was nothing he could say to make up for everything he’d done.

  Can I ask Marie to forgive me when I’ll never be able to forgive myself?

  But as she turned way, a small part of him was relieved. No matter what happened to him in the future, at least her nightmare was over.

  He’d just closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax back against the stretcher, when the front gate burst open. A man with a red crew cut ran into the courtyard, followed by a muscular man in a WBPD jacket that matched Nessa’s.

  “Where the heck have you been, Jankowski?” Nessa called out.

  Jankowski stopped to catch his breath, his eyes taking in the scene around him.

  “We caught Jacob Albright out in the woods. He was making a run for it with a bag of drugs and guns.”

  “So where is he?” Nessa asked, looking over his shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere. We left him tied up out there. Vanzinger can help us find our way back with his GPS navigator once we’re good and ready.”

  “Why in the world would you leave him out there?” Nessa griped, rolling her eyes. “You boys too weak to carry him back?”

  Shooting Nessa a dirty look, Jankowski jogged back to the gate and opened it wide, motioning to someone on the other side.

  “Hurry up there, you two. We haven’t got all night.”

  A tall blonde woman in an over-sized man’s coat staggered through the gate, followed by a blonde man without a coat. A golden retriever trotted in after them, tail wagging at the sight of all the people standing around.

  “Eden? What…what happened to you?”

  Leo rushed forward, pulling the woman to him in a tight hug. He looked to the blonde man, shivering beside her.

  “Nathan? When did you get into town?”

  The man laughed wearily and shook his head.

  “It’s a long story. Once I thaw out, I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “I’d love to sit here chatting, ya’ll, but we need to get Barker some help,’ Nessa said, raising her voice. “He fainted in the woods and needs someone to bring him back. He’s out there with just Frankie Dawson for company.”

  Taylor gasped, hurrying to Nessa’s side.

  “My dad’s out there? And he’s hurt?”

  Nessa nodded, biting her lip.

  “Sorry, Taylor, I guess I shouldn’t have said anything until we’d gotten your father back here safely. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “No, I’m glad you told me,” Taylor insisted, grabbing Nessa’s arm. “I want my father. I want to go find him before it’s too late.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Barker rolled onto his side, drawing his legs up into a fetal position, trying to pull his jacket down far enough to cover his knees. The damp air was bitterly cold, and thin patches of ice had started to spread on the soggy ground around him.

  Trying to make Barker more comfortable, Frankie had taken off one of his jackets and stuffed it full of maple leaves and Spanish moss to make a pillow. But the ground was still painfully hard, and Barker’s back had started to complain.

  “I don’t think they’re coming back,” Frankie muttered, pacing back and forth with the flashlight Vanzinger had left behind, trying to keep warm. “We’ll be found here in a few days, frozen stiff, or maybe eaten by snakes.

  “Snakes don’t eat people, Frankie.”

  But Barker was beginning to think Frankie might be right. Jankowski and Vanzinger had been gone for over an hour, and they couldn’t stay out in the swamp all night without shelter.

  “You ever seen that movie, Anaconda, Barker?” Frankie shuddered. “I tell you, I’ll never look at snakes the same way again.”

  Smiling in spite of himself, Barker sat up, still lightheaded, but determined to get to his feet.

  I just need to rest a few more minutes. Take time to build up my strength.

  He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, feeling the cold, crisp air fill his lungs. He tried to ignore Frankie’s incessant pacing, tried to meditate the way the doctors had taught him after his heart attack.

  Breath in…two, three, four. Breath out…two, three four…

  Sudden rustling in the trees, followed by a gasp from Frankie, prompted Barker to ope
n his eyes. He stared at the familiar face in front of him, then blinked, scared he was only dreaming.

  “Taylor Marie Barker,” he said, his voice weak, “where have you been, young lady? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  Taylor dropped to her knees in front of him, taking his hands in hers. He stared at her, drinking in the bright blue eyes.

  “You look just like your mother did at your age,” he whispered, lifting a finger to wipe a tear from her cheek. “She was beautiful, too.”

  “I miss her so much, Dad,” Taylor said, swallowing hard. “And I’ve missed you. I’m sorry for leaving, and for...everything I said.”

  Barker tried to smile, struggling to hide any evidence of the scars her long-ago words had left behind.

  “I’m sorry, too, honey. For not coming for you sooner, and for not seeing how much you were hurting after your mother…”

  The sound of Nessa clearing her throat made Barker look around. He’d been so absorbed in Taylor that he hadn’t noticed his ex-partner standing at the edge of the clearing next to Jankowski.

  A member of the Willow Bay Fire and Rescue team stood behind them, adjusting a lightweight stretcher that had been mounted on one, sturdy all-terrain wheel. The man pushed the contraption toward Barker, his navy-blue uniform fading into the shadows.

  “You aren’t really gonna try to put me on that thing, are you?”

  The fireman grinned, sizing up Barker’s girth.

  “I’m gonna try. But first let me get you warmed up and take your vitals. Make sure you’re fit for transport.”

  Digging through a sizable backpack, the fireman pulled out a thermal emergency blanket and wrapped it around Barker’s shoulders.

  “I’ve never had to use this before.” He sounded impressed. “Usually I’m treating people around here for heat stroke.”

  After taking Barker’s temperature, blood pressure, and pulse, the fireman frowned, studying Barker’s sunken eyes.

  “Everything seems normal. No arrythmia, your BP’s good, even your temperature’s on target.” He almost sounded disappointed. “When’s the last time you had something to eat or drink?”

  Barker opened his mouth, then closed it again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten anything. And he hadn’t had anything to drink all day.

  “I’ve been busy,” he said, a flush of shame spreading across his face as everyone stared down at him. “It’s been a few…days.”

  “Dad!” Taylor’s eyes were wide. “Why haven’t you been eating?

  A rush of anger surfaced at her words.

  “I was worried about you, young lady!”

  Their eyes met, and for an instant it seemed like they were back where they had started. Like they’d never been apart. Taylor broke into a smile first, and then Barker followed.

  Damn, it feels good to see that smile again.

  He held out his hand, and she clutched at it, holding on tight.

  “We better get you to the hospital,” the fireman said after a tactful pause. “Dehydration can be very dangerous.”

  The fireman looked around and waved over to the detectives.

  “Can I get some help?”

  Jankowski jogged over and took one of Barker’s arms. The fireman grabbed the other arm, and they hoisted Barker to his feet, then lowered him onto the stretcher.

  “I feel like such an idiot,” Barker moaned as they began to wheel him up the narrow path and into the woods.

  He turned to see if Taylor was following after him, fearful of letting her out of his sight. She was right behind him.

  “Just be glad it wasn’t another heart attack,” she said.

  Barker raised his eyebrows and peered back at his daughter.

  “How do you know about that?”

  Nessa popped up beside Taylor.

  “Sorry, Barker. You know I have a big mouth.”

  Barker laughed, happy to be surrounded by his two favorite women in the world. He suddenly felt like a very lucky man.

  “Yeah, you do have a big mouth, Nessa. But I think you’d make a great chief of police anyway.”

  He looked around for Jankowski, who was walking in the rear, trying to keep the stretcher balanced as it jutted over rocks and potholes in the path.

  “You think so, too, right, Jankowski?”

  The burly detective looked up like a deer in head lights.

  “What was that, Barker?”

  “I was just saying that you think Nessa should be the next Willow Bay chief of police. Isn’t that right?”

  Jankowski’s mouth curled up into his usual wiseass grin.

  “Sure, you’ve got my vote, Nessa. If that counts for anything. I’ve always wanted a hotheaded redhead for a boss.”

  Falling into a comfortable silence, the little group continued down the dark path. Barker sensed the night was growing steadily colder as they neared the compound.

  “I don’t want to go back in there, Dad,” Taylor said, her voice suddenly small, and scared. “Not now.”

  Nessa gestured toward the waiting ambulance.

  “You go on to the hospital with your father, Taylor. Although we will need to get a full statement from you tomorrow.”

  Looking past the gate, Barker could see Vanzinger standing by a police cruiser. Jacob Albright was sitting in the backseat, a large white bandage wrapped around his head.

  “Yes, you come with me, honey,” Barker agreed as they loaded the stretcher into the ambulance. “After all this time, there’s no way I’m ever going to let you go again.”

  Taylor smiled, squeezing her father’s hand, and as the ambulance drove away from the compound, she didn’t look back.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The Sacred Hearts Cemetery slumbered under a bright winter sun, offering the illusion of warmth to the chilly day. Taylor stood by the gravestone in a faux fur jacket, her long, dark hair falling loose down her back. Oversized sunglasses hid her red, puffy eyes and the tears that streaked her cheeks. She sniffled as she read the words etched into the marble: Caroline Ferguson Barker, Beloved Wife and Mother.

  “I can’t believe it’s been three years.”

  She sniffled again as her father bent to place the bouquet of calla lilies in the headstone’s bronze vase. He paused, brushing a few dead leaves away, then stood up and put an arm around her shoulders.

  “Time doesn’t stand still for any of us, honey,” Barker said, squeezing her tighter. “That’s why we have to make the most of the time we have.”

  Pulling a tissue out of his pocket, Barker tucked it into her hand.

  “Stop sniffling, and blow.”

  Taylor smiled, her father’s unsolicited advice no longer a source of irritation. She was glad to have someone looking out for her again.

  “I just feel so guilty,” Taylor admitted, her voice thick. “Like I failed her somehow. I know it doesn’t make sense, but…”

  “Remember what Reggie told you during your session?”

  Barker paused, then sighed when Taylor didn’t answer.

  “She said whatever you feel is okay. Your feelings don’t have to make sense or meet anyone’s standard of normal. Remember?”

  Removing her sunglasses, Taylor wiped at her eyes.

  “I know. I guess I’m just beginning to understand how I’m feeling. I still don’t know why, but at least it’s a start.”

  Taylor had been home for the past two weeks, settling back into the house on Bullrun Road where she’d grown up. She’d been surprised at how easy it was to fall into the same old routines, and how much it hurt for her to think of her father living there alone for the past two years.

  I’ve got a long way to go, and a lot of making up to do.

  Looking down at the calla lilies, she knew coming to see her mother’s grave was a first step. The counselor she’d been seeing, Reggie Horn, had suggested she wait until she felt ready, and Taylor had put it off for the last two weeks, scared of what she would feel.

  But Christmas Eve had se
emed like the perfect day for a visit. Her mother had loved Christmas, and she’d always gone out of her way to make it special for Taylor. So now Taylor knew it was her turn to make an effort. Stooping next to the marble headstone, Taylor laid a little knitted stocking next to the vase.

  “I put a note to Santa in there.”

  Taylor suddenly felt silly for making the childish gesture.

  “That’s real nice, honey. Your mother would have liked that. She always loved the little cards and notes you made for her.”

  Barker kept his eyes on the stocking, a sad smile appearing.

  “You know, she kept them all. They’re still in her memory box in our closet. I thought you’d want them once you came home.”

  The simple words triggered the recurring sense of shame and remorse she’d been struggling with ever since she’d gotten home.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I never meant to hurt you.”

  The words were a lie; they both knew it. She had meant to hurt him when she’d left. She’d wanted him, and everyone else, to hurt just as badly as she had been hurting. But she knew now that she’d been terribly wrong, and that she’d run away from the one person who could help lessen the pain.

  “You lost your mother. You were grieving. Grief makes us all do things we normally would never do.”

  Barker ran a hand through his hair, and Taylor noticed with a pang how gray he’d gotten, sure that his worry for her had played a role.

  “I can’t say I haven’t suffered, but I do understand, and I’m so glad you’ve come home.”

  “Me, too,’ Taylor admitted. “I was happy at CSL for a while, but it never truly felt like home. Especially after Father Jed was gone.”

  Thinking of Father Jed was still hard, but she’d gone to visit Ma Verity and the others at the commune the day before, and she felt as if she’d somehow made peace with her time there.

  “It was great to see Ma Verity looking so much better. She seemed like her old self again.”

  Taylor glanced at Barker, feeling awkward, but knowing she couldn’t treat her time away as a secret that she couldn’t talk about, or as something to be ashamed of. Reggie had told her that openly communicating with her father would help them rebuild their trust in each other.