Garage Sale Stalker (Garage Sale Mysteries) (12 page)

CHAPTER 22

J
ason drove w
hile Jennifer
sat in the back seat, holding Denise’s hand to reassure her. They parked at the police station, went inside and gave their names at the reception window.

“Oh, yes, Detective Gibbs is expecting you. Just a moment,” he spoke into his intercom from behind the protective glass.

Almost immediately a beefy detective with graying hair and a business-like smile entered the waiting room. Introducing himself, he invited them into his offce.

Once seated there, Gibbs asked them to repeat what they knew about Tina’s disappearance. Besides the when-and-where details,
a
ll three emphasized that irresp
onsible behavior was entirely
uncharacteristic of Tina.

“Was she upset, depressed, angry at anyone, afraid of anyone?”

“Not at all,” Denise answered. “I’ve wracked my brain for any kind of explanation.”

“Does she have brothers or sisters?” Gibbs asked.

“No, she’s an only child so she’s always acted more like an adult. Now at 19 she
is
an adult.”

“What about school?”

“Good student. Excellent grades. This just makes no sense unless she’s in trouble and needs help. We’re… both still grieving over my husband’s recent death. After Scott got so sick and then died, it’s the two of us left, just Tina and me, taking care of each other.” At this, Denise gave a convulsive sob and tears rolled down her face.

Gibbs made a mental note. Needy, grieving, possessive mother leaning too heavily on likewise grieving daughter; maybe driving her away? Perhaps, but he needed to know more. “So no other emotional or psychological reason you can think of to explain her failing to phone you tonight? No school problems, no boyfriend problems?” Gibbs probed.

“No,” sniffed Denise.

“Excuse me,” Gibbs stood, “while I put out a BOLO on her car and then we’ll continue. Meantime, please fill out these papers. May I have her Virginia plate number again?”

“BOLO?” Denise asked.

“Be-On-Look-Out,” Gibbs explained, handing Denise a pen and taking Tina’s license information with him as he left the room.

Denise bent over the papers spread before her on the table and dutifully began writing answers to the many questions, while Jennifer and Jason exchanged tired looks.

Returning, Gibbs began, “Experience suggests we have two possibilities: she hasn’t called you because she won’t or because she can’t.”

Denise gave a small gasp and clutched her hands together in her lap.

“We all know that young people can forget tasks like calling home because they’re easily distracted, forgetful and not yet very responsible. Sometimes it’s on purpose… to get attention, or to punish their parents for a real or imagined slight… or for other personal reasons that make sense only to them. They might magnify small issues. They might run away from home to make a point. From what you tell me, this doesn’t sound like Tina, but we can’t be sure. In cases like this,” Gibbs continued, “time is our friend and time is our enemy.”

Gibbs’ audience exchanged puzzled looks until Jason asked, “What does that mean, exactly?”

“Time is our friend because a child who forgot to call does
or
he turns up fast with an explanation
or
the one who’s punishing his parents relents
or
the one who runs away gets in touch. Many situations like this resolve in a couple of hours and most in a couple of days.”

“What about ‘time is our enemy’?” Jennifer asked.

“If she’s not calling voluntarily, then we consider involuntary possibilities. If she’s been abducted, time is our enemy because the trail gets colder every minute. You’ve heard of the Amber Alert for missing children? That’s activated the moment we learn a small child is gone.”

Denise jumped to her feet, “But my child is missing and every minute may count right now.”

“Ma’am, I understand your concern, but your daughter is nineteen. Amber Alert is only for children below the age of consent.”

“Co
nsent!
Do you think she consented to being kidnapped? Why can’t you use the same tool for a missing nineteen-year-old in the same situation as a young child?” Denise wailed.

Gibbs pressed his temple with the fingers of one hand. “Ma’am, try to calm down. We know you’re upset and we’re trying to help you as fast as we can and…” he made himself say, “…you asked a good question. Here at the police department, laws govern our procedures and eighteen-year-olds are legal adults, free to come and go as they wish; a totally different category than a minor child without experience, judgment or free will. So let’s put Amber Alert completely aside for the moment. We want to help you find your daughter and will use our considerable skills to make that happen. You can help by quickly filling out these forms with important routine information to help focus our search.”

“Our daughter, Becca, is best friends with Tina. She’s at home now with a bad case of the flu but she’s the last person we know was with Tina before she disappeared. They both watched TV at our house until about 9:30 p.m., when Tina said she was heading home,” Jason volunteered.

Gibbs made some notes and turned to Denise. “Thank you for bringing her picture; that helps a lot. Does she have a boyfriend or a boyfriend wannabe?”

“No! Well, I mean, not that I know of. She never mentioned one and she didn’t bring one home.” Denise turned to the Shannons. “Do you know anything about a boyfriend or has Becca mentioned Tina having one? Did they ever double date?”

Jennifer knew too well that parents didn’t always know what their “little darlings” were up to but their friends probably would. “Becca might be able to answer that,” she told Gibbs.

“Besides a list of all her friends,” Gibbs continued, “we’d like to know more about her state of mind that last day. Was she working on any projects that might lead us to others to interview? Someone might know something helpful. We need to know if she had a job so we can talk with her co-workers. You’re nodding ‘no’ about a job. Okay, any hobbies or activities she’s involved in, any meetings she attends?”

“She is just a lovely person… a decent, private person,” Denise said, tears misting her eyes again.

Gibbs nodded. “And maybe my questions sound like invasion of that privacy, but the more we know about her, the better our chance of finding her. Why don’t you take a deep breath and start telling me about her and I’ll ask some questions along the way?” To the Shannons he said, “Would you two mind taking a seat outside while Mrs. MacKenzie and I talk together?”

“We don’t mind at all,” Jennifer said and they closed the door behind them.

Ten minutes later, Gibbs invited them all back to his offce. His phone rang as they sat down and he answered, “Okay, when? Where? Any sign of...,” looking at the anxious trio who sat across from his desk, he didn’t finish that sentence but listened carefully to the answer. “Any prints? Any leads? Good! Search the immediate area and bring it in for full forensics.”

Putting down the phone, Gibbs sighed. “We found her car parked at a McLean fast-food mart, keys in the ignition and driver’s side window rolled down. Did anyone use that car other than Tina?”

“No, it’s just the two of us at home. We each have our own car,” Denise responded, worry lines deepening in her face. “Maybe
you’ll find her f
riends’ fingerprints, like B
ecca’s for instance,
but Tina hadn’t too many friends. I rode as a passenger in her car sometimes.”

“All right, then I’d like to get your prints tonight for elimination from whatever others we may find. Can you do that right now?”

“Of course, I’ll do anything to find Tina faster,” Denise said as Gibbs took her to another area to record her prints.

Returning to the Shannons, he said, “If Tina hasn’t turned up by morning, send your daughter in ASAP to add her input. We’ll also need her fingerprints for elimination.”

When Denise rejoined
them, Gibbs asked if anyon
e had
questions. “No? Okay, then go home and get some sleep. We may need you alert and on your feet tomorrow. Thanks for giving us this important information. Mrs. MacKenzie, looks like you have some mighty good friends here.”

Giving Denise a comforting hug as they wandered out to the car beneath a starry sky, Jennifer wondered how terrible things could unfold on so beautiful a summer night.

Inside the st
ation, Gibbs sighed to
himself. No reason to
further alarm these already anxious folks but he knew something else, something he deliberately didn’t mention. Two women had disappeared without a trace in the last five months in this very part of Fairfax County and Tina might well be the third, perhaps confirming a pattern dreaded by law enforcement personnel. If the girl didn’t surface by tomorrow, he’d pass this info directly to the Fairfax County Homicide Division.

As a veteran police detective, he didn’t like the way this case felt. He didn’t like it at all!

CHAPTER 23

A
pall settled over the
Shannon house as days passed with Tina still missing. They all ached to
solve
this puzzle, but nothing made sense. What
had
happened to her?

Poor Denise was an understandable wreck trying to cope with her daughter’s senseless disappearance and Becca felt devastated with worry over her best friend. Besides sharing their anxiety, Jennifer could think of nothing to do or say to relieve their misery. No progress on the case fueled additional community apprehension about the missing women, producing growing unease and even fear.

Helpless to positively affect the situation, Jennifer sighed. Short of finding Tina herself, she couldn’t ease the grieving of those she cared about so much.

Late that Saturday morning this unsolvable dilemma exasperated Jennifer to the point she decided to get out of the house. Driving often cleared her head. Perhaps she’d think of some new angle nobody considered. Problems often cooked to solution in the back of her mind while she was distracted with unrelated tasks.

The kitchen clock read 11 a.m.—later than her usual start to garage sales, but she consulted the newspaper classifieds anyway. At home she felt useless, contrasted with the productive alternative of many upscale addresses. Might she balance the negative with something positive at this morning’s sales?

She told those at home her dilemma and, reinforced by their encouragement, started off. Once launched, she skipped lunch to avoid missing the exceptional opportunities advertised on this sunny mid-July day.

She visited sales for nearly five hours, making many stops and several significant purchases. A box of Star Wars figures was a guaranteed thrilling under-the-pillow gift for a grandson, as was the shoulder-high shiny brass spyglass atop an adjustable brass tripod (original tags still attached). Now Jason and the family could get close views of the deer in the wooded parkland behind their house; an amazing value at $45 when she’d priced them in retail stores at $150 and up! At least the telescope might distract them briefly from what was really on all their minds.

Tina’s plight assailed her thoughts over and over as she drove, but no light bulb popped on to suggest what might have befallen her.

Finishing McLean, Jennifer went to a few sales in Vienna, then crossed to Route 7 for more in the Springvale area and doubled back through Great Falls for two more at big estates. Under other circumstances, this would have been a rewarding garage sale day! Under these circumstances, it was at least motion.

Losing track of time, she arched her eyebrows in surprise as she checked her watch: after four o’clock. Where had the time gone? Tired and preoccupied with painful thoughts about Tina, she attempted an impromptu shortcut home, in the right general direction but not a route tried before. If she saw just one street sign, she could pull over, consult her book map and pinpoint her location. Dinnertime approached and her family awaited their cook. She must get her bearings soon or retrace her path to familiar roads.

Driving the winding country roads and wooded rolling hills between Great Falls and home in McLean, she knew these back roads could become confusing. Clusters of huge, beautiful homes interspersed with modest houses or even farmland. A couple of landscape nurseries still survived, their owners doggedly resisting developers’ staggering sums offered for their land.

Noting this particular winding road was too narrow for a u-turn attempt, she needed a driveway where she could pull in and back out. And soon, because she hated to admit it, but she was pretty much lost. Why had she resisted Jason’s offer to install a GPS navigator in her SUV?

Abruptly, the perfect solution came suddenly into focus. “Yes, yes!” she chortled aloud, for rounding a tight curve, she spied an Unadvertised Special. “YARD SALE” read a sign painted on a large piece of plywood. Beneath the words an arrow pointed up the driveway. What extraordinary luck! A last sale for the day, a place to around and to get directions home!

Braking hard, she negotiated a last minute swerve into the graveled driveway. Only in the closing seconds of this maneuver did she notice in her rearview mirror another car materializing directly behind. This little traveled country road had been deserted for miles! She accelerated into the driveway to get out of its way, giving the driver time to brake safely. Instead he over-reacted, forcing his car into a noisy skid. Just shy of plunging into an unforgiving storm water ditch, he careened in a half circle and finally halted his car cross-ways in the road, pointing directly toward the driveway where her car sat.

Years ago, she learned the hard way that law requires following vehicles to be kept under control at all times, thus eliminating excuses for rear- ending a car in front of you. Still, she felt apologetic for braking so suddenly and without a warning turn signal.

She idled her car in the mouth of the driveway to assure herself the other driver was okay. Her rear view mirror showed that his vehicle hadn’t moved and the driver seemed to be writing something down. A couple of minutes passed when she reached for the door handle to get out to apologize, but by then the driver had recovered sufficiently to correct direction, pass the driveway entrance where she sat and move slowly up the road. Fortunately, no damage, except perhaps to someone’s equilibrium. She sighed, vowing to be more careful and considerate.

She drove ahead up the driveway’s long incline. The neglected tangle of overgrown bushes, vines and shrubs along both sides created an abandoned appearance, contrasting sharply with the pristine, cultivated entry ways of most properties nearby. She’d noticed similar neglect at some other sales where owners couldn’t maintain their properties as they got sick or old.

At the top of the driveway, gravel covered the expanse between the old house and nearby out-buildings: a large barn and sprinkling of sheds, one looking like a little church or old-fashioned school house. A primitive cross on a small mound beside the house caught her eye; most likely the grave of a cherished pet. If the cross were removed, the mound would blend invisibly with surrounding terrain. Behind the barn, unkempt fields stretched into the distance, though none of this was visible from the road. This small farm, like most of the original land in McLean and Great Falls, doubtless remained from a much larger original tract. After subdividing his acreage, a farmer typically kept the portion with the homestead and surrounding buildings for himself.

Expecting sale items gathered in the driveway or behind the house, she saw none. Maybe the sale was in the barn. The next logical step was getting out of the car to knock on the house door, but she knew canine caution! Farmers usually owned dogs and after her childhood fright, even the he-loves-everybody type scared her. Instead she rolled down the car window.

“Hello,” she called. After a moment, she called again louder, “HELLO!”

She knew farm sales and auctions might yield remarkable antiques, quilts, churns, primitive tools, hand-made furniture and vintage household items, so she didn’t want to give up too soon. The sign at the driveway entrance hadn’t indicated the sale’s hours. Perhaps it already ended but they hadn’t yet removed the sign. She glanced again at her watch: 4:15 meant she must arrive home soon to start dinner so she wouldn’t linger. At least, she hoped for some directions.

If nobody showed soon, she’d turn around and leave. Motor running, window down, Jennifer studied her map. Just as her finger traced the known road she traveled before turning onto this shortcut, a voice at her elbow startled her.

“Here for the sale?” asked the farmer, looking down so his straw hat shielded his face.

“Yes, indeed, but where is it?”

“Inside,” he said, walking toward the house. “Come around to the front door.”

“Do you have a dog? I’m afraid of dogs,” she shouted after him.

“No,” he called over his shoulder before turning the corner.

Normally at sales she jumped eagerly from her car, but an unusual hesitation swept over her. She’d come here alone, up a remote driveway to a hidden house for an unadvertised sale. Absolutely no one knew where she was. She picked up her cell phone to call Jason but it wouldn’t work. She could press the van’s OnStar button to call their operator, but this was no emergency and since she owned a cell phone, she hadn’t bought their hands-free phone feature for routine calls.

Still in the car, she vacillated. Pushing the gear shift into “drive,” she inched forward to leave, but then pressed the brake hard. This is ridiculous, she admonished herself, on a sunny summer day at a sale in McLean, Virginia. She’d been to hundreds of similar sales, so why would this be any different?
Of course
she would check out this sale! Something wonderful inside might just be calling her name. Shifting into “park,” she grabbed her keys, got out of her car and crunched across the gravel parking area to the sidewalk leading toward the front of the house.

The farm house front door stood slightly ajar. She paused, pushed it open and called, “Hello.” No answer… “
Hello!”
Silence…

Empowered by the farmer’s direction to use this door, she stepped through the foyer and walked ten feet into the living room before a sickening realization gripped her. She froze!

Over the fireplace hung New Husband’s painting of the seated nude from the sale a few months ago, and yes, his bachelor furnishings filled this room. She took a step backward, left hand at her throat. That scary man! She
must
get out quickly, dash for the front door, run for her life…

She spun full circle, fingers tightening on her car keys until the metal edges bit into her skin, only to confront a human obstacle, a person who’d waited in the entryway closet until she walked inside before emerging to block her path to the door. She didn’t recognize him at all outside, but now she looked up into the unmistakable hard face of
Wrestler
.

Desperately eyeing the door behind him, she gasped, “I must go…”

He didn’t speak but his eyes narrowed and a cruel smile crossed his mouth.

“I’m late… my family’s waiting,” she managed. “You don’t understand.”

His smile vanished. “No,
you
don’t understand!” he growled.

Terror fueled her flight response as she tried rushing past him to the front door, but the tall, stocky man blocked her path. Instinct told her to fight for her life, but he grabbed her wrists and held her at a distance, evading her attempts to kick him in the shins and groin. When she bit his hands holding her wrists, his shrill whistle pierced the air followed by an inhuman scrambling somewhere behind her and the ominous snarl of a large animal as he released her.

She turned her head to see an enormous dog hurtle into the room toward her. Lifting her arms in futile defense against fangs and claws, she felt the heavy animal crash into her, knocking her backward. And then she was falling… falling with no place for her frantically clutching fingers to dig in and hang on!

And then nothing... nothing at all!