Never Run, page 8
That had been a terrible dream. She knew why she’d had it. It was because she’d been thinking of Lauren again.
Those memories always brought back a surge of guilt as she remembered what had played out between them ten years ago, just before her sister’s tragic disappearance.
She and Lauren had a terrible fight. In fact, that was why Lauren had ended up storming out into the darkening evening. May would hate herself forever, knowing what the disastrous outcome had been.
Those angry words they had exchanged were seared forever in May's memory. She wasn't sure she'd ever forgive herself; and even now, ten years later, her guilt was palpable.
She groaned and dropped her head down into her hands as she recalled the bone-chilling sensation she'd felt in the dream.
She’d been replaying their argument in her nightmare. Resounding in her mind, she could still hear Lauren's furious voice, even though she could no longer recall why they had argued. The reasons for their fight had been lost in the passing of time.
"You think you're so perfect, May. But you're not."
"What are you going on about, Lauren?" she'd cried. “Stop making out like you’re better than everyone else!”
The terrible argument had continued.
"You're a liar. You always think you know more than me. In fact, you’re a pain in the ass. I hate you."
"You're a liar too. You're always doing stuff behind my back. You try to make everyone think you're perfect. You're not, though. You're a cheat and a liar yourself."
At that point, Lauren had stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Ten years later, May still thought about her sister, wondering what her life could have been like if she'd only apologized to Lauren, instead of shouting after her, "Well, I don't try to be a total bully like you! Go to hell!"
Wondering if she'd caused Lauren's death was a terrible thought, and May shook it from her mind.
She shivered, standing and walking to the bathroom, where she splashed cold water on her face. Then, seeing that it was already six-thirty a.m., she made a cup of coffee, and took it back to her room.
She thought she had a good idea how this new day would play out, but, as she took the first sip of her coffee, her phone rang.
Grabbing it, anxiety flaring, she saw it was Sheriff Jack on the line.
"May, you're awake? There’s been a very disturbing development. We've had another missing person called in and this time it's a local girl. From our own town, Fairshore."
May drew in a shocked breath as he continued. "Cassandra Cole has disappeared. We're organizing a manhunt immediately."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
May threw on her clothes, adrenaline surging inside her. She never believed she would wake up to this news and felt horrified that the killer had claimed another victim.
As fast as she could, she jumped in her pickup and sped off to the police department. She accelerated into town, and down Main Street. Before she even reached the building, she could see that, outside, the place was pandemonium.
Cars were parked randomly in the small parking lot and on the street. Civilians, neighbors, people from the town, were crowding around the police department's entrance.
Owen, who also looked to have just arrived, was coordinating the groups into search parties.
"It will be best if you split up into groups of three, using cellphones to communicate, starting from the Cole residence and working outward from there," he was saying to a group of local men. "Her photo and a basic description should be available now on the main police website. If you find any trace of her, let us know. If you see anything suspicious, call us."
Leaving him to his job, May rushed into the police station. There, Jack was on the phone, with three others ringing loudly. A group of angry-looking people had crowded into the lobby.
"We want answers," May heard a tearful woman shout.
When he saw May, Jack quickly disconnected the call and hustled through to the back office with her.
There, he gave her the quickest briefing she'd ever had.
"May, we're trying to keep the panic down to a minimum. It's unclear if this was the work of our serial killer, or something else. All we know is that Cassandra has vanished. Her family called in the alarm a little while ago, and we're moving on this now.”
He looked tired. His face was drawn and anxious.
"Cassandra Cole is a local celebrity. She's eighteen, she was the school's prom queen, top of her class in many subjects, and she'd received a full scholarship to the University of Minnesota. So she's bright, she's beautiful, and she's very well-known and popular in town."
His voice dropped.
"Worse still, she's her parents' only remaining child. Her two older brothers were killed in a car crash three years ago, while vacationing out of state. So, for the sake of her family, we need to find Cassandra."
May couldn’t allow herself to think of the horror of the family losing all their children. She felt the pressure intensify.
"What's the background? When did she vanish?" May asked.
"Last night. She apparently planned to sneak out to meet a boyfriend. I've just interviewed him. Name of Daniel Barker. Their meet-up was organized for eight p.m., in the park, but she never arrived. Daniel is distraught. Piecing things together, it looks as if she must have been snatched when she left. Her bedroom window was open, and her bed hadn’t been slept in. Her phone was found in the flower bed near her bedroom window, turned off. The FBI will send it off for fingerprinting but I’m sure it was wiped, like Savannah’s."
"What can I do?" May asked.
The sheriff sighed, looking frustrated.
"It's still the FBI's case. Just that the urgency has escalated. We have to wait on them now."
"Can't we go out and hunt for her?"
"We have to wait on their instructions," Jack said again. "We can't act out of turn here. We have a press conference organized just now, because we need the help of the public. I've just been putting together everything I have on her and updating the website."
May glanced at the screen behind him, feeling sick as she saw the beautiful, dark-haired woman smiling out.
Cassandra clearly was a stunner.
And the family's only surviving child.
That chilled her. Especially since she knew she might already be dead.
"I’m not sure how much use the search parties will be, because the disappearance occurred last night." Jack told her. "However, there is a possibility that the killer might be locally based, and if he is, then we may find important evidence. In addition to scouring the area, we've coordinated with the police upstate. They are organizing other search parties of their own."
There was a shout from outside at that moment.
"The press conference is starting!"
May hurried back outside.
She was amazed to see several more cars and vans had pulled up. A crowd of photographers and cameramen were assembling.
What should she say? she wondered. How should this proceed?
She hoped Jack would lead the way.
But then, with her stomach plummeting, she saw someone else was handling it.
Kerry had just arrived, climbing out of a brand-new Lexus SUV that was clearly her rental vehicle.
May saw her stride over to the microphones that were being set up in front of the building, closely followed by Adams. Kerry was wearing black pants and a dark jacket. Her make-up was light but flawless.
"Testing, testing," she said, tapping on one of the mikes. "This needs some adjustment, please," she said to the hovering tech.
Then she turned and saw May standing nervously nearby.
"Morning, sis. What happened last night? We missed you at pre-dinner drinks! Anyway, we've got a hectic day with this new development on the case."
"What can I do?" May asked, her stomach churning.
"You're a big part of this now.”
May's spirits lifted. So she was going to be involved? It sounded like it.
But then Kerry continued. “We need you to assure the people of your town that the FBI is here and we're doing everything we can to find Cassandra Cole. We're going to be working at top speed, liaising with the main FBI office, and with any forensics experts or techs we need. So our main priority is that we have what we need, and that the other policing in this little precinct gets done efficiently."
"What do you mean?" May said.
"Just because there's a serial killer on the loose does not mean community policing must be neglected, is what I'm saying. There's still going to be a need for the speed cameras, and parking infractions, and to break up any arguments between people, and - and look for lost pets, and follow up on any homeless people. And anything else you do here as a matter of course."
Adams added to the list.
"Bag snatching, shoplifting, burglaries. All those crimes keep happening. In fact, as I was on my way here, I saw someone parked outside the lines in town. That kind of thing can be a slippery slope, you know. Where were you, when that citizen was breaking the law?" He wagged a finger at May.
"Exactly," Kerry said. "You need to keep the town safe from any other crimes."
"But I'm the county's deputy sheriff," May protested. "That doesn't just mean directing traffic or talking to folks about their parking tickets. I need to be out there, searching - "
"That's not your responsibility anymore," Kerry interrupted. "Keeping the town functional and calm is."
Just as May thought, Kerry hadn’t noticed that she was now in the official county deputy role, and it meant nothing to her. May felt a coldness grip her.
She was being sidelined, it seemed. And Kerry wasn’t taking this seriously. Surely she should have been working until all hours last night, not signing off at eight p.m. and going to dinner?
"I've got local knowledge and local knowledge is valuable. It means something," she argued.
Kerry shrugged, looking smug.
"Local knowledge is exactly why they brought me in. If you do come across any leads, or anyone comes forward with information, you can call us, of course. That'll be another important role you play. You can monitor the hotline. Any good leads, pass on to us. Any weak or nonsense leads, you’re welcome to check out so that the callers feel validated, and know they are a valued part of the community. Now, are we ready to start here?"
She turned away, and May saw her give a few hand signals to the cameramen.
"Good morning, good people. I'm FBI Special Agent Kerry Moore from the Behavioral Analysis Unit, and this is my partner, FBI Special Agent Brent Adams. We were urgently called out by local police yesterday to solve this case, as it's clear that a serial killer is terrorizing your community. I'm going to make some announcements about the disappearance of Cassandra Cole, and the murders of Savannah Knight and Shelby Ryan, and brief you on our plans."
A respectful silence and thankful murmurs met Kerry's words. Cameras flashed in the gray morning.
"We're not expecting this to be easy. A serial killer is a violent, dangerous person. And we have to catch him before he can kill again. Our main priority is to find Cassandra Cole and bring her home, alive and unharmed. We've set up a toll-free number that anyone can call with any leads. If you have any suspicions at all, reach out to us. Local police will be manning the line. Callers can remain anonymous if they wish."
She glanced around in May's direction.
“We've been in touch with the other local police and will be coordinating the wider response also. We're already busy profiling this killer, and our forensic specialists are standing by to process any evidence. We are here, in this town, for as long as it takes to resolve this case. I hope it will not take long. Our goal is to have Cassandra safely home with her parents soon, and to give our grieving families the fastest possible closure."
A round of genuine applause followed her words.
"Now, I'll take some questions, but please be brief as we have to get onto the hunt," Kerry concluded.
"Is the killer in this town?" a man asked, sounding anxious.
"We don't know," Kerry said. "But yes, it is possible that he is. All the evidence points to him being locally based in one of the towns near the lake. We are assuming it’s a man, due to the physical strength that was necessary to carry and transport the victims. We can't take any chances, so make sure you lock your doors, and if you see anything suspicious, call us."
May knew it was wrong to feel jealousy at such a time, but she couldn't help feeling desperately jealous of Kerry, and as if the entire scenario was unfair.
"Now, another question?"
A woman was already raising her arm.
"Cassandra Cole, the missing girl. Is it possible she's already dead?"
"It's a possibility, but since this killer seems to hold victims for varying amounts of time, we're working on the assumption that she's still alive."
Unable to listen to any more of this, May turned and walked back into the police station.
It was quieter inside. Just one phone was ringing. As she watched, Owen answered it.
Returning to her desk, May found she had a question of her own, one that she couldn't ask but which was burning in her mind.
Could this unknown killer be the same person who had taken Lauren, ten years ago?
She had disappeared without a trace, just as these girls had done. Her body had never been found - but maybe, just maybe, that meant she was still alive somewhere.
Once the idea had occurred to her, May couldn't get it out of her mind. She was finding herself fixated on it.
Kerry had said nothing about earlier cases. It hadn't seemed to occur to her sister that there might be parallels in these disappearances.
Outside, another scattered round of applause signaled the press conference was wrapping up.
A moment later, she saw the shiny Lexus accelerate past the police department building, heading for the highway.
At that moment, May resolved she was not letting this go. Whatever it took, she was going to pursue this.
She was not going to hand the case over but was going to work in parallel with her sister.
If Kerry found out, she knew there would be trouble. But May decided she was willing to handle it.
She walked over to Owen, and whispered, "I need to speak to you in the back office. I have an idea."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Owen jumped up from his chair so fast that May had to grab the back of it to stop it from falling over. She guessed, from his sudden turn of speed and the excitement on his face, that he had been as frustrated as she was.
They headed to the back office, which was now empty. Sheriff Jack must be out on the road doing community policing, or perhaps coordinating the search parties and roadblocks with the other police departments.
"I can't let this go," May whispered. "It's ridiculous to sit here waiting for a bag snatching to be called in, when there's such a huge case on the go and lives at stake."
"I agree," Owen whispered back.
He glanced at the reception desk where the young officer, Philips, was sitting twiddling his thumbs.
“Kerry did say that if a weak lead was called in, we could go along and check it out,” May said, wondering if this represented a useful loophole they could use.
“Yes, she did.” Owen looked suddenly thoughtful. “You know, I did receive a weak lead just now when I answered a call.”
May decided a little subterfuge was in order.
She called out, "Philips?"
He turned around. "Sure. What is it?"
"We've had an anonymous call on the hotline. It doesn’t sound like a strong lead, but just to be sure, we’re heading out. Will you hold the fort here? Please call us if there are any developments or any emergencies," May added, not wanting to abandon her responsibilities.
"Sure. I will," Philips said.
May rushed out, with Owen in hot pursuit.
They climbed into her pickup and May started it up.
Turning, she stared at Owen excitedly. They were on the case, and it felt all the sweeter for being against her bossy sister’s wishes.
“I know where I want to go,” she said.
“Where’s that?” he asked.
“I want to go back to the home of the first victim, Savannah Knight.”
“She lived in Snyder, if I recall,” Owen said.
"Yes," May said. “I want to speak to the Knights again. We never got a chance to question Savannah's mother.”
“That’s correct. I was disappointed about that even though it was understandable. But I would have liked to find out more from her about Savannah’s movements over the past few days,” Owen said.
May could have hugged him. He was exactly on her page.
"Me, too. I think we need to look for a common thread. There must be one. How is this killer selecting his targets?"
"Good point," Owen agreed.
"They all went to different schools. They lived in different towns. But the killer can't just be driving around the area, looking out for girls of the right age?"
"If he did that, people would notice," Owen agreed.
"So, he must be doing it in a more subtle way. I mean, what's the best way of selecting someone you can kidnap and hold captive? What are you looking for?"
Owen nodded. "He must be doing it in some other way. Maybe they all had a shared interest?"
"It's something to check out," May said. "And their ages. They're all within a year or so of each other. They're all young. They're all female. They're all attractive. He seems to be seeking out a certain type, and if so, how is he doing it?"
May was getting into this. It was like piecing together a complicated puzzle.
She sped along the main road to Snyder, hoping that she wouldn't get into trouble for what she was about to do.
"Maybe there's a possibility that they all know each other?" Owen suggested.
"That would make sense," May agreed. "It’s something we need to explore. But the question is: why have they been taken? Why those girls? Are they being held because they are connected to the killer in some way? Where is he looking for them?"
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