I cant discuss anything further. Watch for the release.
The call ended, leaving Kate stunned.
Now, another family is going to be devastated. If its not Vanessa, then where is she? How many more bodies will they find?
Kate sat there, wondering. And as the clocks tune played she recalled its haunting words.
They all ran after the farmers wife, who cut off their tails with a carving knife. Did you ever see such a sight in your life?
Grace ran to her.
Mom, can I get a drink?
Sure, then lets go home.
In the cab, Kate alerted Newslead that shed have a story coming on the third victim. Less than a minute later, Reeka called.
Were going to need something with an exclusive peg, Kate.
I dont even have a name yet, Reeka. Ill do what I can.
Kate exhaled and shook her head slowly. When the cab got to their neighborhood, Kate and Grace picked up soup, salads and sandwiches from the corner deli for their supper. By the time they got home, the news release had been posted on the Rampart PDs website. As they ate, Kate looked into the pretty, smiling face of the victim, then read the information.
She was Mandy Marie Bryce, aged twenty-six, from Charlotte, North Carolina, a dental assistant whod been missing for four years. She was last seen at Virginia Beach, Virginia, walking from a restaurant to her hotel where shed been attending a conference.
Rampart PDs release provided few other details, so Kate went online, pulling older articles from the Virginia and Charlotte newspapers, gleaning data from them. She soon learned that Mandy had a little brother with Down syndrome and that shed volunteered with many groups. She was engaged to a carpenter, whod been cleared as a suspect, and had organized searches for Mandy in Virginia. To help their case, police had pinpointed Mandys last known whereabouts and released her last text to her boyfriend and his response.
Probably my imagination, but I think Im being followed.
Go into the first store or bar and call a cab.
Mandy had never answered and her boyfriend had called Virginia police.
Investigators soon determined that Mandys hotel room key was never used after shed texted her boyfriend. Records showed no activity on her phone, bank and credit cards at any point after her last text. Mandy had vanished. Until four years later, when her remains were found in a shallow grave near a barn in New York.
She compared Mandys case to what had happened to the first victim, Bethany Ann Wynn, aged nineteen when she went missing. Bethany was last seen leaving her part-time job at a mall. She was waiting for a bus to her home in suburban Hartford, Connecticut. Both cases were miles apart but seemed to fit a pattern: young women whod vanished while alone in vulnerable places.
Kates heart skipped a beat when she felt a hand on her lap.
Mom, can I have some cookies?
She smiled at Grace.
Just one. Then brush your teeth and reach back, like the dentist said.
Kate sighed, then resumed reading.
It appeared that both Bethany and Mandy had been stalked. Was there a connection to their financial records and the data center where Nelson worked? What was his real name? Did he have a tie to Denver, or was everything circumstantial? Kate needed to do a lot more digging but it had to wait, because right now she had to pull a story together.
In the older news articles she saw that from time to time, Mandys mother, Judy Bryce, had spoken to the Charlotte Observer.
The keys on Kates keyboard clicked and within a minute she had a listing in Charlotte and called it, hoping that Brennan had notified the family. The line rang five times before a man answered.
Hello, my names Kate Page. Im a reporter with Newslead, the wire service in New York.
Yes. His tone was neutral.
Would it be possible to speak with a relative of Mandy Marie Bryce? It concerns the news release issued a short time ago by police in Rampart, New York. I take it youre aware of it?
Yes, were aware.
Would you be a relative, sir?
Me? No, you want Judy. Im a friend of the family, hang on.
The sound of a hand over the phones mouthpiece and muffled words about a reporter in New York.
Im Judy Bryce, Mandys mother.
My condolences for your loss, Mrs. Bryce, Kate said, repeating her introduction and explanation for calling before requesting Mrs. Bryce reflect on her daughter for her news story.
My Mandy was a selfless angel who always put everyones needs before hers.
Kate underlined those words in her notes. As she continued talking with Judy, the older woman said her devotion to her faith had helped her deal with her daughters tragedy.
It may sound funny, even cold, but when she first went missing, I knew in my heart that Id never see her again.
How did you know?
I cant explain it, but a mother just knows, or maybe God let me know. When Mandy was ten, she took a bad fall down the stairs. In the hospital, seeing her in the bed, I had this powerful, crystalline feeling that I was going to outlive her. I just knew it. I-I-Im sorry. Judy stopped to choke back a sob. Kate overheard her say something to the man at her end that she was okay to go on. Then she came back to Kate. Deep in my heart I just knew that when Mandy disappeared, Id lost her forever. The pain will never go away, but Im at peace with it now. Were making arrangements to bring her home.
Struggling with her own emotions, Kate opened up to Judy about her personal connection to the story, about Vanessa and how she couldnt give up her feeling that she was somehow still alive. After listening, Judy gave Kate advice.
Trust your heart. Its telling you theres hope. Hang on to that.
The womans unexpected compassion for Kate, when she was the one whod intruded on her pain, was somehow therapeutic. Kate then asked if Mandy had any ties to Bethany Ann Wynn in Hartford, or Carl Nelson or Vanessa, or Alberta or Denver?
There were no links, Judy said.
After hanging up Kate sat alone in the kitchen with her elbows on the table and her face in her hands, as if to stem the emotion draining from her. Calls to the bereaved were never easy. They always cost Kate a piece of her soul.
Get to work.
Kate marshaled all of her concentration and threw herself into writing her story as fast as she could. She didnt think there was much of an exclusive angle to it but didnt care. It brought Mandy Marie Bryce to life, letting readers know what the world had lost. Kate looked at Mandys picture and, for a moment, smiled back at her.
She pressed Send and filed her story.
Then Kate joined Grace, who was on the sofa watching a movie about puppies. She put her arm around her and for a moment tried not to think about missing women, shallow graves and monsters.
Ouch, Mom, youre scrunching me too tight!
Sorry, honey.
As Kates mind raced back tothe mountains, the river, Vanessas hand-letting goher cell phone vibrated. Thinking it was likely Reeka with some problem with her story, she was inclined to ignore it. But the area code was for Colorado and she answered.
Hi, Kate, Will Goodsill in Denver.
Yes, hi, Will.
I found something in my notes that may help you.
31
Lost River State Forest, Minnesota
You come up here for the birding?
Zurrn didnt expect the attendant pumping gas into his van to start a conversation. He was in Pine Mills, a village that skirted the state forest near the Canadian border.
The forest was known for bird-watching.
It was dusk. Bishops General Store and Gas, where hed stopped, was the only sign of life. The attendant, Ferg, according to the smudged name patch on his shirt, was chatty.
Thats right, Zurrn said to his side-view mirror.
I figured. Ferg clamped on his toothpick as the smell of gasoline wafted while the flow hummed. I see by your plate youre from Delaware. Folks that come that far, usually-
A sudden muffled sound from inside the van caught Fergs attention. Cupping his free hand to his temple, he drew his face to the tinted window.
You got a dog in there, or something?
Zurrn eyed him then caught the flash of a turn signal. A car was approaching the service station from the highway. It bore the emergency light bar of a police unit.
No. He kept his voice soft. My wifes trying to get some sleep.
Oh, Ferg mouthed. Okay. After finishing the fill-up, he replaced the nozzle quietly and took care tightening the vans gas cap.
Thatll be forty-five, Ferg whispered. Want me to check the oil?
Zurrn held three twenties out the window.
Nope. Keep the change. He started the engine.
Thank you, sir! Want a receipt?
Nope.
As a Klassen County sheriffs white patrol car wheeled up to the pumps, Zurrn slipped the transmission into Drive and eased away.
That was close.
Watching Bishops General Store and Gas shrink in his mirror, Zurrn then glanced over his shoulder, his attention flicking to the enlarged storage area hed built under the vans master bed. The sleeping pills were wearing off. Not to worry, it wasnt much farther.
That little scene back there underscored the need to be vigilant.
Now that he was at war, now that his struggle was national news, mistakes could not be made. He glanced at the newspaper on the passenger seat, folded to the latest article on Rampart. There were photos of the farm with insets of the victims and that reporter, Kate Page, the one whod begged and pleaded to know more about her sister.
There was a sidebar story about Page and her painful, unrelenting search for her sister. The story praised her as heroic, brave, courageous and smart.
Your reverence is misplaced.
Zurrn seized the paper and looked at her face with contempt before tossing it aside. She was a moth, circling mindlessly in his brilliance. He was on the edge of immortality, of achieving something monumental.
You have no understanding of who I am.
Or what I am.
As twilight yielded to the dark he searched the dense woods, unearthing the pieces of his life. His mother had come to America to live with relatives when she was a student from Bulgaria, or Romania, or Serbia. He was never sure. She drank a lot and told him different stories. She may have been a Gypsy. She became an US citizen, working as a nurse until she became a drug addict and lost her job. Her life was far from the American dream. When Frank, the paramedic shed married, realized that Zurrn was not his son but the bastard of one of her many affairs, he walked out on them.
Zurrn stared into the darkness ahead and admitted what he was.