Ill call you when we get to the school, Keri said quietly to Ray. He nodded without replying.
She felt stung by his coldness but she got it. He had opened up and taken a big risk. And she had shut him down without explanation. It was probably good that they had some space for the next little while.
As the two women stepped outside and began to walk away from the house, one thought reverberated in her head.
I have screwed up massively.
CHAPTER THREE
Ninety minutes later, back at her desk, Keri let out a sigh of deep frustration. Most of the last hour and a half had been fruitless.
They hadnt found anything unusual on the walk to the school and didnt come across any obvious signs of struggle. There were no odd tire marks near the spot where Mrs. Rainey had found Jessicas stuff. Keri had stopped at every house nearby to determine if any residents had street-facing video cameras that might be of use. None did.
When they got to the school, Ray was already there talking to the principal, who promised to send out an email blast to all school parents asking for any information they might have. The security officer had all the surveillance footage from the day queued up so Keri suggested Ray stick around and view it while she got Mrs. Rainey back home and returned to the office to call all the potential leads.
To Carolyn Rainey, it must have simply looked like two partners effectively multi-tasking. And to a degree, it was. But the thought of sitting awkwardly in the passenger seat as Ray drove her back to West LA division was something she wasnt up for right now.
So instead, they got a Lyft back to the Rainey house and Keri continued to the station from there. Thats where shed spent the last half hour calling all Jessicas friends and classmates. No one had anything unusual to share. Three friends all remembered her leaving school on her bike and waving to them as she left the parking lot. Everything seemed fine.
She called both the boys Jessica had crushes on in recent weeks and while both knew who she was, neither seemed to know her well or even be aware of how she felt. Keri wasnt shocked at that. She remembered that at that age, shed filled up whole notebooks with the names of boys she liked, without ever actually speaking to them.
She spoke to, or left messages with, all of Jessicas teachers, her softball coach, her math tutor, and even the head of the neighborhood watch group. No one she reached knew anything.
She called Ray, who picked up on the first ring.
Sands.
Ive got nothing here, she said, deciding to focus solely on the matter at hand. No one saw anything out of the ordinary. Her friends say everything seemed fine when she left school. Im still waiting for some calls back but Im not optimistic. You having better luck?
Not so far. The video camera range only extends to the end of the schools block in each direction. I can see her saying goodbye to her friends, just as you describe, then biking off. Nothing happens while shes visible. Im having the guard queue up footage from earlier in the week to see if there was anyone loitering around on prior days. It might be a while.
Unspoken in that last line was the assumption he wouldnt be returning to the station anytime soon. She pretended not to notice.
I think we should post the Amber Alert, she said. Its six p.m. now. So its been three hours since her mom called nine-one-one. We dont have any evidence suggesting this is anything other than an abduction. If she was taken right after school, between two forty-five and three p.m., she could be as far as Palm Springs or San Diego by now. We need to get as many eyes on this as possible.
Agreed, Ray said. Can you honcho that so I can keep reviewing this footage?
Of course. Are you coming back to the station afterward?
I dont know, he answered noncommittally. Depends on what I find.
Okay, well, keep me posted, she said.
Will do, he replied and hung up without saying goodbye.
Keri ordered herself not to focus on the perceived slight and put her attention into preparing the Amber Alert and getting it out. As she was finishing up, she saw her boss, Lieutenant Cole Hillman, walking toward his office.
He was wearing his usual uniform of slacks, sport coat, loose tie, and short-sleeved dress shirt that he couldnt keep tucked in because of his ample girth. He was a little over fifty but the job had aged him so that there were deep lines in his forehead and at the corners of his eyes. His salt-and-pepper hair was more salt than pepper these days.
She thought he was going to come over to her desk and demand a status update but he never even looked in her direction. That was fine with her, as she wanted to check with the CSU folks to see of theyd found any prints.
After she submitted the Amber Alert, Keri walked though station bullpen, which was unusually quiet for this time of night, and down the hall. She knocked on the CSU door and poked her head in without waiting for permission.
Any luck on the Jessica Rainey case?
The clerk, a twenty-something girl with dark hair and glasses, looked up from the magazine shed been reading. Keri didnt recognize her. The CSU clerk job was a grind and had a lot of turnover. She typed the name in the database.
Nothing from the backpack or bike, the girl said. Theyre still checking a few prints from the phone but the way they were talking, it didnt sound promising.
Can you please have them let Detective Keri Locke know as soon as theyre done, regardless of the result? Even if there are no usable prints, I need to check that phone.
You got it, Detective, she said, burying her nose back in the magazine before Keri had even closed the door.
Standing alone in the quiet hallway, Keri took a deep breath and realized there was nothing else for her to do. Ray was checking the school surveillance footage. She had put out the Amber Alert. The CSU report was pending and she couldnt look at Jessicas phone until they were done with it. Shed either spoken to or was waiting to hear back from everyone she had called.
She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, allowing her brain to relax for the first time in hours. But as soon as she did, unwelcome thoughts flooded in.
She saw the image of Rays face, hurt and confused. She saw a black van with her daughter inside rounding a corner into darkness. She saw the eyes of the Collector as she squeezed his neck, draining the life out of the man whod abducted her daughter over five years ago, even as he was already dying from a head wound. She saw grainy footage of a man known only as the Black Widower as he shot another man in the head, took Evie from the mans van, and shoved her into the trunk of his own car before disappearing forever.
Her eyes snapped open and she saw that she was facing the evidence room. Shed been in there many times in recent weeks, poring over photos from Brian The Collector Wickwires apartment.
The actual evidence was held at Downtown Division because his apartment was in their jurisdiction. They had consented to let the West LA police photographer take pictures of everything as long as it stayed in the evidence room. As she had killed the man, Keri wasnt in a position to argue with them.
But she hadnt gone through the photos in several days and now something about them was eating at her. There was an itch at the edge of her brain that she just couldnt scratch, some kind of connection she knew was hiding just out of the corner of her consciousness. She walked into the room.
The evidence clerk wasnt surprised to see her and slid the sign-in sheet toward her without a word. She checked in, then went straight to the row with the box of photos. She didnt need the reference data as she knew exactly what row and shelf it was. She grabbed the box from the shelf and lugged it to one of the tables in the back.
She sat down, turned on the desk lamp, and spread all the photos out in her front of her. Shed looked at them dozens of times before. Every book Wickwire owned was catalogued and photographed, as was every piece of clothing and each item from his kitchen shelves. This man was believed to be involved in the abduction and sale of as many as fifty children over the years and the detectives from Downtown Division were leaving no stone unturned.
But Keri sensed that what was teasing her wasnt in any of those photos shed studied previously. It was something shed only registered in passing before. Something had been jogged in her mind when she stood in the hall minutes before, letting all her painful memories wash over her.
What is it? Whats the connection youre trying to make?
And then she saw it. In the background of a picture of the Collectors desk was a series of nature photos. They were all 5 x 7 images lined up in a row. There was a frog on a rock. Beside it was picture of a jackrabbit with its ears pricked up. And next to that was a beaver working on a dam. A woodpecker was in mid-peck. A salmon caught on film as it leapt from a stream. And next to it was the image of a spider on a patch of dirt a black widow.
Black widow. Black Widower. Is there something to that?
It might have just been a coincidence. Obviously the Downtown detectives didnt think much of the photos as they hadnt even been catalogued as evidence. But Keri knew that the Collector liked to keep coded records.
In fact, thats how shed found the addresses where Evie and multiple other abductees were being kept. The Collector had hidden them in plain sight, in an alpha-numeric code on a bunch of seemingly innocuous postcards in his desk drawer.
Keri knew that the Collector and the Black Widower shared a connection: they had both been hired at various points by the attorney Jackson Cave.
Did their paths cross at some point, maybe on a job? Was this Wickwires way of keeping the contact information of a fellow sinner for hire, in case they ever needed to team up?
Keri felt a certainty wash over her, one that usually only came when shed uncovered a crucial clue in a case. She was certain that if she could access that photo, she would find something useful about it.
The only problem was that it was in Brian Wickwires apartment, which was still cordoned off by the Downtown police. The last time shed tried to get in, two weeks ago, there was crime scene tape all around it and two cops stationed in front of the building to deter any looky-loos.
Keri was just beginning to consider how she might navigate that challenge when her phone rang. It was Ray.
Hey, she said hesitantly.
Can you come back to the Rainey place right now? he asked, skipping the pleasantries.
Of course. Whats up?
They just got a ransom note.
CHAPTER FOUR
Twenty anxious minutes later, Keri pulled up to the Rainey house. Once again a CSU truck was already out front. She knocked on the front door. Ray opened it almost immediately and she could tell from the look on his face that the situation was grim. She glanced over his shoulder and saw the Raineys sitting together on a couch. She was weeping. He looked shell-shocked.
Im glad youre here, Ray said sincerely. Ive only been here five minutes but Im having a hard time keeping them from going off the rails.
Is there a clock on the note? Keri asked quietly as she stepped inside.
Yeah. The guy wants the transfer to happen tonight at midnight. Hes demanding a hundred grand.
Jeez.
Thats not the worst of it, Ray said. You need to read the letter. Itsweird.
Keri walked into the room. One CSU investigator was dusting what looked like a FedEx envelope. She looked back at Ray, who nodded.
Crazy, huh? he said. Ive never heard of a ransom note come via FedEx before. It was same-day. I already gave the tracking number to Edgerton. He says it was posted from a location in El Segundo. The time stamp was one fifty-eight p.m.
But thats before Jessica was taken, Keri said.
Exactly. The abductor must have sent it before he grabbed her pretty brazen. Suarez is headed over there now to look for any potential footage from the place.
Sounds good, Keri said as she headed to the living room where the Raineys sat. She was reassured that some of their best people were in the mix. Detective Kevin Edgerton was a tech wizard and Detective Manny Suarez was a dogged, experienced cop. Nothing would slip by them.
Hi, she said softly and the Raineys both looked up at her. Carolyns eyes were puffy and red but there were no tears left. Tim was ghostly pale, his face dour and tight.
Hello, Detective, Carolyn managed to whisper.
May I take a look at the letter? she asked, glancing at the sheet of paper on the coffee table. It was already in a clear evidence envelope.
They nodded wordlessly. She moved closer to get a better look. Even before reading the contents, she could tell that the letter hadnt been printed using a computer. It had been typed on a standard 8 x 11 sheet of paper. That immediately concerned her.
Every computer printer had its own identifiable signature, represented through a pattern of dots not recognizable to the undiscerning eye. The dots printed out in a code along with the text of the document and provided the make, model, and even the serial number of the printer used. If the person who typed this letter knew enough to avoid a computer printer, it suggested he probably wasnt an amateur.
The letter itself was equally troubling. It read:
Your child has a dark spirit. The spirit must be pruned so that a healthy child can grow in its place. That will destroy the body of the child but save its soul. So sad but it must be done. The hothouse desire of the creator demands it. I can free this child of the spirit with my holy shears, the mechanism of the Lord. The demons must be uprooted from within her.
However, if you promise to redeem her yourself through bloodletting purification as he has commanded, I will return her to you for the procedure. But you must compensate me for my sacrifice. I demand $100,000 to be made whole. It must be cash, untraceable. Do not involve the authorities, the filthy purveyors of sordid wretchedness upon this world. If you do, I will return the child to the soil from which she came. I will employ the machinery of the Lord to spread her dripping remains among the spoiled weeds of the city. I have provided proof that I am sincere in my claims.
Midnight. Father only. For fathers alone will save this world from impurity.
Chace Park. The bridge by the water.
$100,000. Midnight. Alone.
The flesh of your flesh depends on your supplication.
Keri looked up at Ray. There was so much to process that she chose to set most of it aside for the time being and focus on the clearest elements of the letter.
What does he mean about providing proof? she asked him.
There were several strands of hair in a baggie in the package as well, he answered. Were having them tested to see if theyre a match.