Blackwaters: A Kate Reid Novel (The Kate Reid Series Book 4) (17 page)

“No, thank you, Agent Vasquez. You’ve saved us a lot of time.” Kate exhaled a breath as her eyes slowly met with Burgess’. She only shook her head.

“Nothing? They found nothing? No match?” Burgess appeared ready to explode.

“I can’t believe it. I thought for sure this was how we were going to find him, find out who he really is,” Kate said.

Burgess began rubbing his forehead. “What the hell are we going to do now?”

Kate considered several directions, but was nearly at a loss herself. “Let me think.” She stopped again, dropping her eyes to the floor. “If he didn’t go to school there, it had to be someone he knew. Someone who had done harm to him in some way.”

“Well, hell, that could be anyone,” Burgess replied.

Her instincts could not have led her astray. They’d been so reliable up to now. Kate was missing something and she had to figure it out fast. Her mind spun with all sorts of thoughts, images of the victims, the crime scenes, the clothing. Everything she could possibly think of that would lead her somewhere.

She snatched up her phone and dialed a number while Burgess looked on with curiosity. “Yes, can I speak with Dr. Kinney?”

Burgess furrowed his brow.

“Dr. Kinney, this is Special Agent Kate Reid. We met the other day? Yes. I know. We’re still looking, but I needed to ask you a question. The t-shirt on Ariel Nadal’s body. Is there any way you can tell me if the tag on that shirt indicates a size? More specifically, if it indicates a gender? Thank you. I’ll hold.”

Burgess folded his arms. “What are you thinking?”

Kate raised an index finger. “Yes, I’m here. Okay, yes, that’s all I need for now. Thank you very much. And same to you. Goodnight.” Her chest began to heave as a renewed excitement welled inside her.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Burgess appeared on the edge of his seat, waiting for an answer.

“It was labeled “girl’s medium.”

“It wasn’t his shirt,” Burgess replied.

Kate shook her head. “It was a girl’s shirt.” She almost jumped from her chair. “I need to get the names of those girls from the school over to Vasquez.” She started to walk out of the room and Burgess had to jog to catch up to her. “I shouldn’t have held them back. How could I have been so stupid?”

“It’s still a long-shot, though, right?” Burgess still struggled to keep up with her. “I mean, if he didn’t go to school there, but a girl he was after did? That still doesn’t get us any closer to finding out his identity.”

“It does because I don’t think it was just some girl.” Kate stopped in her tracks. “It had to be someone who had a deeper relationship with the suspect. Someone who had intimate access to him on a regular basis. Given the nature of the mutilations, this person had to have done great harm to him. I think he has a sister—and I think she might have abused him.”

 

 

 

SEVENTEEN

 

 

 

P
recious time still
ticked away and they were no closer to finding the killer’s true identity. The names of the girls were sent to Vasquez and she was working double-time to find any identifying markers that would match closely enough to whom they knew to be Arlen Tucker. It would still take time if one of the names was a match to track down this person, but it would get them a step closer.

Burgess returned with two paper bags in his hand. “You need to eat.” He placed the grease-stained bags of food on his desk. “Sorry, there isn’t much around here, but these guys make the best burgers in town.”

Kate pulled her attention from scrolling through her phone, hoping new information would appear with each refresh of the screen. “Thanks. I guess you’re right. We haven’t had anything all day.” She reached into the bag and retrieved a burger and fries.

“Has your team made any progress in Tucker’s home?” Burgess reached for his food and unwrapped the enormous burger.

“Last we spoke, the coroner had just arrived, and they were still searching the house, but nothing so far that would indicate where he was headed. The closest they have is the statement from the gas station robbery victim that Tucker was heading south and it appears that state police missed him.”

“So he could be anywhere.”

“Four states are looking for him. He won’t be able to stay hidden for long.” Kate raised the burger to her lips and took a mouthful.

“You know, this has taken a much more dramatic turn than I could have ever imagined. When that body turned up, Sydney Hawthorne’s, my first thought wasn’t that it had been the work of a serial killer. In fact, I can tell you that never in my fifteen-year career have I come across such a horrific case.” Burgess seemed to study Kate for a moment. “I don’t know how you’re able to maintain the level-headed approach you’ve displayed so far. I find it both amazing and a little unsettling at the same time. No disrespect.”

A thin smile briefly appeared on Kate’s lips. She’d felt as he did on more than one occasion in the past. “None taken.” It had been the loss of Marshall that ultimately forced her to view the world around her in harsher, more black and white terms. Because it didn’t matter how much one was loved, or how much compassion one had for the plight of others. There would always be someone out there who believed it to be his or her responsibility to destroy lives. To take what was not theirs for the purpose of causing pain to others. And it took a callous mind to find those types of people. While she hadn’t believed herself to have become so callous, perhaps she had. “Let’s just say that I’ve seen what people like Arlen Tucker are capable of, and it changes you. It makes you realize that you must see the world, at least partially, as they do in order to anticipate their next move.”

“Well, I guess I’m glad I don’t have to see the world that way,” he now appeared indebted. “But I’m glad there are people like you who do.”

An image popped up on the screen of Kate’s phone. A call immediately followed. “Agent Reid.” She placed it on speaker.

“The picture I just sent you is of a thirteen-year-old girl named Janelle Durham.”

Kate flipped back to the image. “Who is she?”

“She attended the school in 2005 and her facial markers are similar enough to Arlen Tucker for me to conclude that they are related.”

“That’s great.” Kate smiled at Burgess. “That’s got to be his sister. Where is she?”

“She’s deceased, Kate. Died in a house fire a year later with her family,” Vasquez replied.

“Wait a minute.” Burgess leaned in with interest. “Did you say ‘Durham’?”

“Yes.”

Kate looked at him. “Do you know who this is?”

“The fire. It happened here in Baker County, about twenty miles away. There was one survivor. A boy.”

“Oh my God. What happened to him?” Kate asked.

“He was put in foster care, but honestly, I didn’t keep track of the case after that. The files would be in archive, but it wouldn’t take long to get them.”

“Thank you, Agent Vasquez. Thank you so much.” Kate ended the call. “Let’s get those files.”

 

 

» » »

 

 

Nick marched with deliberate speed toward Dwight, who was outside, pointing a flashlight into the shed. “Vasquez turned up a match.”

Dwight turned on his heel. “We know his real name?”

“Not yet, but Kate’s close. I just got off the phone with her and she and Deputy Burgess are looking up the files from some fire that happened back in ‘06. Turns out the girl whose facial markers matched the closest to Tucker died in that fire and so did the rest of her family. Except for a boy.”

“Arlen Tucker, or whatever the hell is real name is,” Dwight replied.

“We think so. The boy was put into the system shortly after the fire.”

“Then he’ll have a file. It shouldn’t be too hard to confirm an actual identity, but that doesn’t get us any closer to finding him.”

“But it does. We’re dealing with someone who’s obsessed with taking some sort of revenge on his female victims. He had a sister who died in the fire. Now, I can’t say what type of relationship he had with his sister, but look at the ages of our victims. They’re all in their early to mid-twenties. That would have put each of them in middle school in 2006.”

“Sure sounds like he’s after victims in the general age range of what his sister would be now.” Dwight’s brow narrowed as he seemed to consider their current options. “I say we start looking in Florida, particularly in Baker County. He might be going home.”

“It’s about the best we can hope for at this point. I can coordinate with Florida state police and talk to Kate and Deputy Burgess again. I’m thinking we need to get down there with her as quickly as possible.”

“Hang on,” Dwight began. “There’s something in here you’ll want to see first.” Dwight turned his flashlight inside the dark shed and illuminated a grisly discovery.

“Oh God,” Nick replied. “This was where he kept the parts.”

A set of steel shelving units bolted on the back wall of the shed revealed the horrific sight. Large glass containers, similar to those that would hold flour or cookies, were placed on those shelves, each containing the parts of his victims that had been removed.

“There are six containers.” It only took a moment for Nick to realize that meant there were more victims than had yet been discovered. “Get forensics in here to collect these.” He turned away, repulsed by the display. “I’ll phone in for the helo. We need to get to Baker County ASAP.”

 

 

» » »

 

 

A conflicted mind split in two, each half struggling for control made the road ahead appear divergent. Arlen’s vision suffered the effects of the war that raged inside him, and the beast that seared his chest was calling.  His work was not yet finished.

The two-lane road was familiar to him, though, and so navigating its twists and turns came by way of memory. The truck continued along the highway as the sun faded from view, leaving behind only nightfall.

Aware that they were all looking for him, he intentionally travelled the back roads, avoiding detection. Arlen considered a destination that would offer reprieve, if only a brief one. A place where he could gather his thoughts and determine his final destination because being captured wasn’t something he could abide. He knew what happened to men like him in prison and surviving more than a week there would take an act of God, and he realized he wasn’t a man who deserved a miracle.

Arlen rocked back and forth as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. His breath was heavy and beads of sweat spilled down his temples. He stared at the roadway lit by the truck’s faint headlights. In an instant, his body shot upright and his eyes fixed ahead with deadly precision. The answer appeared and the beast had again resumed control.

He pressed hard on the gas pedal and the old truck’s engine sputtered and finally roared into gear, sending him reeling down the highway, his destination fully in sight. He’d already been on the path without realizing it, but it was all too clear now. Arlen Tucker—Zachariah Durham—was going home.

 

 

» » »

 

 

Deputy Burgess recovered the case file sent via email from the archive department. It was already after-hours and so he had to pull some strings, but considering what was at stake, it wasn’t a difficult task. “This is him.” He dropped the papers onto his desk where Kate waited.

She began to compare the employee ID against this new image of a ten-year-old boy known as Zachariah Durham who was victim to a fire that killed his family. “It sure as hell looks like him, but let me get this to Vasquez to run the age progression program. She’ll be able to confirm it.”

“What do we do after that?” Burgess asked. “I’m concerned this community will turn to panic.”

“He’s on the run right now. I need Agent Myers to shed some light on where he might be heading. Given what we know now, she could assemble a more comprehensive profile.” Kate knew what she had to do. Myers was top in her area of expertise and her feelings for what she’d done to Nick couldn’t stand in the way of finding Durham. “I’m going to request that she come down with the rest of the team. It’s got to be all hands on deck if we stand any chance of finding Durham before he kills again.”

Kate made the call and Myers would be on the same chopper as Nick and Dwight. She’d given Myers the new data so that she had time to review and would hopefully be prepared with a solution upon her arrival.

“Can we take a drive over to where the Durham house was? I’d like to see what’s there now,” Kate said.

“You think he might show up?”

“I don’t know, but I’d feel better if I knew what we were dealing with in terms of population in the area. Depending on what the team and Sheriff Conroy want to do, they may consider setting up a patrol, just to be safe.”

“Sure. It’s not far. I don’t often have to travel there as they’ve got a local police department. Which, I suppose if we implement a patrol, they’re likely going to want to be involved.”

“I agree.” Kate followed Burgess outside where the air had cooled considerably and the earlier breeze had quieted to an eerie calm.

Burgess started up the engine as Kate stepped inside. “You really think he’ll come back here after all this time?”

“From my limited experience, it’s entirely feasible. And I’m not sure he’s been gone all that long. They found additional—items—in a storage shed behind Durham’s home near Fayetteville. That means we have more bodies to uncover and they could be victims from around here.” Kate immediately thought of Hendrickson and his parents’ home where she’d been held captive along with so many other children who were not as fortunate as she. “Can you radio back to your office and have them run a missing persons’ report for the past, say, twelve months? We might get hits on similar victims.” She paused. “He might have been active for much longer than we originally thought.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”  Burgess eyed the road ahead and drove southeast to the small community of Briar. Zachariah Durham and his family had lived there until a fire that originated in the garage killed all of them, except the boy.

“I don’t want to sound like a creep or anything, which is kind of what I feel like right now by asking something so absurdly inappropriate at this given moment,” Burgess said.

Kate turned to him before he could continue. “You know, someone once told me it was best to stay detached from an investigation. And by that, I mean, keeping the grim nature of it separate from who you are as a person. Because if you don’t, you’ll never lead a normal life.”

“Hmm. That’s pretty sound advice. This person must have been very wise indeed.”

“He was.” Kate smiled. “So you were saying?”

“I guess what I was trying to say was that maybe after this is over and we put this son of a bitch behind bars, maybe you and I could get together every now and again. I mean, when you’re not busy, which I know is probably a rarity in any case.”

“You seem like a good man, Mike, and I appreciate the offer. Can we revisit this conversation? And I’m not dismissing you. It’s just, well, I’d like some time to consider it.” She could not deny that there had been a spark between them at their first meeting. And now that she’d spent some time with him, his authenticity was transparent. Maybe it was time to move on. It didn’t have to be anything serious, but the thought of spending time with someone again…it was a nice idea—something that resembled normalcy. And that was appealing in and of itself.

“There’s a coffee shop just ahead.” Burgess raised a finger from its grip on the wheel and pointed to the shop. “You mind if I pop in and grab a cup? It’s been a long day and I could use the pick-me-up.”

“Sounds good to me. I wouldn’t mind one myself.”

Only five miles from their intended destination and approaching 7pm, Deputy Burgess pulled into the parking lot of a place called Ground Control. Apparently, they had the best coffee this side of the river.

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