Authors: Alexa Grace
"You mean second-to-last, right? Didn't Ryder shoot his sister the day after he killed Jasmine?" Gabe noted.
"Right. I wonder what happened to make him kill Erin. I mean without her, would he have been able to do all the things he did?" Cameron said. "Remember the surveillance we saw of Alison at the bus station? Alison is a smart girl. There is no way she would have left with Ryder, if he'd been the one to meet her instead of Erin."
"Why isn't Erin Ryder added to the seven counts of murder Brandt will prosecute Ryder for?" Gabe wondered aloud.
"We've got the bullet casing that matches his handgun, but no witness or anything else. It was just the two of them in that basement when it happened. Jacob didn't think he had enough to prove Ryder was the killer," said Brody before he headed back to his office.
Cameron leaned toward Gabe, propping his elbows on the conference table. "How much sympathy could any prosecutor get from a jury for someone like Erin Ryder? She was just as evil as her brother."
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A week later, Gabe spotted a rare parking space in front of the Sheriff's Office and maneuvered his truck to park. It was weeks before the trial would begin, yet media vans, campers, and tents dotted a small tract of land near the Sheriff's Office, a couple of blocks from the Shawnee County Courthouse in the downtown square.
A crowd of reporters peppered him with questions as he headed toward the front door.
"Who are you?"
"Are you working on the Jim Ryder murder case?"
"What can you tell us about Jim Ryder? Did you know him?"
"Do you think his conviction is a slam dunk?"
"No comment," Gabe responded as he pushed forward, turning his head away from the cameras when he could.
Gabe knew Brody scheduled a press conference for the afternoon and he didn't envy him. Brody could only predict so many of the questions he'd be asked. Inevitably, he'd be asked how he could not have known one of his deputies was a serial killer.
Deputy Gail Sawyer greeted him at the door. "Well, if it isn't my favorite private investigator."
"Hi, Gail. Is Cam in his office?"
"No, he was on his way to work when he responded to a call for backup about thirty minutes ago. Deputy Arnold stopped a truck near Veedersburg for an expired license plate. He noticed the two men inside were acting squirrelly, really nervous, and wouldn't make eye contact. Coincidentally, the deputy had a K-9 with him, who alerted to presence of drugs in the vehicle."
"No kidding?"
"Wish I was." Gail paused to open the door for a dispatcher arriving for work, and then continued, "The deputy waited for Detective Chase to arrive, and then put the suspects in the squad car before they searched the truck. In the back seat was a bottle of muriatic acid and camp fuel."
"Two ingredients used to make meth," Gabe interrupted.
"Right."
"No wonder they were nervous when they got stopped."
"Oh, there's more. Inside a backpack, they found coffee filters, drain opener, ice packs, a plastic hose, and funnel, along with two syringes that had trace amounts of methamphetamine."
"Mobile meth lab," Gabe stated with disgust. He had no understanding why anyone would put meth in their bodies. It was a self-inflicted death sentence. "What about the two men?"
"The driver admitted to owning the backpack and knowing what was inside. The other guy had a small baggie in his back pocket with trace amounts of meth in it. My kind of bust. I guess the K-9 nearly ripped off the back pocket of his jeans before the deputy could stop him and put him back in his car."
"Do you have any idea when Cam will be here? We have a meeting at nine."
"He should arrive in thirty minutes," Gail began. "Are you talking about that meeting Michael Brandt scheduled?"
"Yes. Besides Detective Chase, Brody and Carly are attending, too."
"They're both in their offices."
"Good. If no one is in the conference room, I'll work in there on my laptop until Cam gets here."
Gabe started to walk away, but Gail called him back.
"Gabe, if your meeting goes until noon, how about grabbing some lunch with me?"
"Sorry, Gail, I have to run back to my office after the meeting. I have a pile of work waiting for me."
Noting her disappointed expression, Gabe headed toward the conference room. He'd known for months that Gail was attracted to him, but felt nothing in return. That was the thing about chemistry. It was there or it wasn't. Gail was a good woman, intelligent, and with a great sense of humor. Why he couldn't be attracted to someone like Gail instead of women like Abby Reece was a mystery, and a habit he was determined to break.
<><><>
When Michael Brandt entered the conference room, it was the first time Gabe had seen him since Carly's birthday party the previous month. He was a big man, six feet and five inches, with around two hundred and thirty pounds of hard muscle. His expression dead-serious, his voice held little humor as he greeted the group and lowered himself to sit at the head of the long conference table.
"I'm depending on all of you to help me convict Jim Ryder for seven counts of murder. I'm going for the death penalty. If anyone deserves the needle, it's Ryder. If we're going to win, our evidence has to be rock-solid." Michael spoke with conviction, branding them with the importance of information and evidence each had to offer.
"For any DNA evidence, we need an expert to explain it to the jury in simple terms. I don't want a repeat of the Casey Anthony case in Orlando, where it's suspected the jury members didn't understand what the DNA expert was talking about. Casey Anthony walked. Jim Ryder will not. Not on my watch, he won't." Michael paused, glancing at the overstuffed files before each of them.
Directing the question to Carly, he asked, "I know you have an FBI background as an agent. Do you have any contacts who are DNA experts we could get to testify?"
"I do, but I'm not sure they would make the complex DNA information easier. Their expertise is to understand the complexities, but not necessarily to explain in layman's terms so the average person can understand. That's not their focus," Carly explained. "I think the best expert for the job is Dr. Pittman, our coroner here in Shawnee County. I've discussed autopsy results with him, and he is gifted in explaining the complex with absolute clarity, in the simplest language."
Carly's cell phone vibrated on the table. Glancing at the display and discovering the caller's name, she rose from her seat, her expression tense. "I have to take this. Excuse me." Rushing from the room, she answered the phone and began speaking with the caller.
"I haven't met Pittman, but it sounds like he's our guy," said Michael.
"I'll arrange a meeting for you to talk to Bryan. He's one of my oldest friends. Why don't we do lunch soon?" Brody offered.
"Sounds like a plan."
"Which victims do you want to discuss first?" Brody asked, eager for his team to discuss the evidence they'd painstakingly collected.
"Tell me what you have for all of them, including the four victims found in the shallow graves at the Johnson farm, the two in the burning car, and Jasmine Norris." Michael flipped back a page to write on his legal pad.
Brody gave Cameron a nod, signaling him to present first. "Jasmine Norris was beaten to death. The remaining six victims were shot execution-style, at point-blank range through the back of the skull. No bullet casings were found at the shallow graves or the burning car crime scene, but at autopsy, judging from the size of the hole in the skulls, Bryan believes the bullet was a nine millimeter."
His expression filled with doubt, Michael said, "I'm not sure that's going to help much at trial without tangible evidence that backs him up."
Cameron nodded in agreement. "We've got the backup. Nine millimeter casings were found in Ryder's backyard, where we think the six girls were executed."
"How do we link that to Ryder, besides the location?"
"In addition to his department-issued nine millimeter Sig Sauer Pro, Ryder had a nine millimeter Glock taped on the underside of a kitchen drawer. ATF tested the Glock and it produced the same type of striations on the bullets we found on Ryder's property."
"Good work, Detective."
Carly appeared in the doorway and motioned for Brody to join her in the hallway.
"Brody, my call was from Alison's mother."
"What's wrong?"
"A man calling himself Jim Ryder phoned Alison last night on her home's landline and threatened to kill her if she testified."
Brody's face reddened with anger. "How the hell could Ryder call her from the county jail? He doesn't have a cell phone, nor does he have phone privileges. He's in solitary so we can keep the other inmates away from him."
"We don't know if it was actually Ryder who called. But Mrs. Brown is hysterical. They just moved into a new house after she got a job at the hospital in Evansville. She's afraid if the caller found their phone number, which is unlisted, he'll find their house. Alison is terrified."
"Give me some time to call the jail to see what's going on with Ryder." Brody headed toward his office with Carly by his side. "If we have to, we'll move them back into another safe house."
In the evidence meeting, Michael asked, "Anything else?"
Gabe spoke up. "We discovered items in Ryder's basement that belonged to each of the victims."
It wasn't Gabe's job to search Ryder's basement. He was a relatively inexperienced computer forensics professional when Cameron asked for his help. Gabe sensed his brother was offering a learning experience, and he'd eagerly accepted.
The day they searched the basement, it was dark, except for sunlight leaking through a small dirty window. It smelled of mold, mildew and human waste. Gabe had forced himself to focus on the search for evidence, instead of the depressing, sickening visuals in his head of how the young girls were caged, raped and tortured at the hands of a deputy he'd shared coffee and donuts with.
"What did you find?" Michael asked.
Gabe noticed a glint of approval in his brother's eyes. "We found laptops and cell phones belonging to six of the victims, and Samantha Grey's e-reader, cell, and leather purse, which contained her library card."
"We also found dog collars hanging on hooks on one wall of the basement. There was one for each victim."