Chapter 120
Chapter 120
Chapter Title: The Missing Link
Reynolds
It was dawn.
I stood inside the station’s main conference room, pinning photographs onto a massive whiteboard. I was waiting on CSU and the FBI for a lead—anything to help me find Kathy. The first twenty-four hours were always the most critical, and the clock was ticking.
Stepping back, I studied the web of faces.
Allison, Benny, and Divine’s photographs anchored the top of the board. These three were the targets of what was looking more and more like a calculated revenge plot.
Below them hung the rest of the players: Emma, Cole, Archer, Ace, Kimberly, Kathy, Kelly, and Hank.
According to our investigation, Allison and Benny had murdered Kelly using the infamous R. Ryder method. Kelly had been pregnant with Hank’s baby at the time. I didn't have concrete evidence linking Kelly and Hank romantically yet, but every piece of evidence I'd uncovered made it the only logical conclusion.
Allison had done it for Hank.
Benny had done it for the money.
Divine had done it for her husband’s political campaign.
I picked up a red marker and drew a thick X over Allison and Benny’s faces. They were already dead.
Divine was next.
She might not have gotten her hands dirty, but according to Gray, the handwriting on the victim's photograph belonged to her. I pulled that photo from the case file Hastings had given Dr. Healy and lined it up next to the one Tate had recovered from Benny's safe. Both women shared the same long, dark hair. It could be a coincidence, but I had to assume the woman in the photo retrieved from the safe was Kelly.
As for Emma and Cole? I had reason to believe they assisted Allison, Benny, and Divine without realizing what was actually going to happen to Kelly. That was likely the only reason they were still breathing. If they had known the full scope of the plot, the killer would have already dumped their bodies.
My eyes shifted to the photograph of a young Archer Ryder. Back in high school, he went by Robert A. Ryder Jr.
Earlier at Kimberly’s house, I’d tasked Howard with running the name.
“Howard.”
He looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”
I held up the yearbook, pointing to Archer’s teenage face. “Run this name.”
Howard took the book, glancing at the print. “Robert Archer Ryder Jr.?”
“Benny’s predecessor had two sons—the guys we know as Archer and Ace,” I explained. “Archer had already graduated by the time I hit high school. When you're a kid, your world only revolves around the people in your immediate grade. I never knew Archer was named after his old man.”
Howard gestured to the yearbook. “So you want to know if he legally changed it?”
I nodded. “Positive.”
“Give me a few minutes. I’ll check the county court records.”
As Howard stepped away to make the call, a CSU tech approached me from behind.
“Detective,” the tech said, holding up an evidence bag. “We processed the firearm. I found a strand of hair caught on the butt of the gun. It's too short to be Agent Hastings’.”
“Run it for DNA and trace immediately,” I ordered. “That’s our break. Let's see whose ghost is behind this.”
Howard hung up his phone and walked back over. “Got it. Robert Ryder Jr. legally changed his name the week he turned eighteen, right before he enlisted. He cited personal preference on the petition.”
“Archer was in the military?” I asked, caught off guard. “But he keeps telling everyone Ace is the one with tactical experience. The guy literally retched when blood squirted out of Calvin Jones’ nose after he punched him.”
“He enlisted in the Navy,” Howard clarified. “And plenty of people get squeamish at the sight of blood, military or not.”
“Or the whole sensitive guy routine is an act,” I muttered. “Women fall for it.”
I stared back at Allison’s photograph, remembering what Hastings had uncovered in Ocean City. Archer had used Allison to rent a car under the alias 'Kelly Lawrence.' Judging by the state of Allison’s suite, she had been desperately in love with him. She would have done anything he asked.
Unfortunately for her, she was just a pawn in Archer’s twisted crusade against Benny for killing his father.
But Gray had insisted Benny wasn't responsible for Rocky Ryder's death. Rocky had supposedly died of an overdose, but in our world, "overdose" was often code for a quiet execution.
If Benny didn't do it, who did?
My eyes drifted to Kimberly and Kathy.
If Kimberly had been running a rogue investigation, she might have stumbled onto the truth about her sister's death. And with Allison and Benny out of the picture, Divine was the only person left with a strong enough motive.
I recalled Lena’s mention of the old rumor—the cover story that Kelly had simply run off with some rich guy. What would Divine’s cover story be this time?
I glanced at the adjacent whiteboard, which was covered in the missing girls from our active serial case. Divine could easily use that to her advantage. She could just frame Kimberly as the serial killer's latest victim.
But why kidnap Hastings?
I shook my head, discarding the thought.
That didn't fit Divine's profile. Abducting an FBI agent wasn't just messy—it was political suicide.
A sharp knock at the door broke my concentration.
Tate stood in the doorway, holding a manila folder in one hand and a large cup of coffee in the other. She walked in and handed me the caffeine.
“Thanks,” I said, taking a grateful sip.
“Don't mention it.” Tate’s eyes scanned the complex web of strings and photos on the whiteboard. “Let me guess. You're trying to bridge the gap between Ryder and Divine.”
She tossed the folder onto the conference table.
“What’s this?” I asked, setting my coffee down.
“The background on Rocky Ryder,” Tate said. “I bypassed the usual channels and got it straight from the Chief. He mentioned you two aren't exactly on speaking terms right now.”
“Did you read through it?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Robert Ryder Sr. owned a massive portfolio of commercial warehouses along the Eastern Shore. When rumors started circulating about the privatization of the local marina, he submitted a heavy bid for it.”
“What?” I stared at her. “Rocky Ryder had that kind of capital?”
Tate shrugged. “People feared him, and he kept the entire docks on a tight leash. A man with that much leverage usually does well in business.”
“So how did he lose it all?”
“The properties were bled away right before he died.”
“To who?”
“A shell network of buyers, but the primary investor was a holding company directly tied to Wincroft Enterprises.”
I closed my eyes as the pieces slammed into place. “Divine.”
Finally. The missing link.
“According to the Chief,” Tate continued, lowering her voice as she leaned in, “Divine hired Benny to hold his family hostage."
“To force Rocky to sign over the deeds?” I asked. “But wouldn't the syndicate retaliate? You don't extort a syndicate boss without consequences.”
Tate gave a grim nod. “Two things protected her. First, Rocky was a rogue element trying to muscle his way to the top slot, so the higher-ups didn't mind seeing him cut down to size. Second, the syndicate desperately needed someone inside the state government to legitimize their legal fronts.”
She pointed a finger at the whiteboard.
“So, it's highly probable Ryder abducted Kimberly. Part One of his revenge plan.” She paused, a frown creasing her forehead. “But why not just take Hank? He's the one worth millions to Divine. Kimberly is just collateral.”
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed violently in my pocket.
It was Ace.
I answered the call. “Reynolds.”
“I couldn't get hold of Hastings, so I decided to call you. Hank just called me,” Ace said, his breath ragged. “He got a call from a blocked number. A man... he told Hank he has Kimberly.”
“Where is Hank right now?”
“Somewhere on the state highway. He wouldn't give me coordinates. He just said he was going to save her.”
“Call him back and force a location out of him. Now. Then, call me back."
I ended the call.
“Hank just got a call from the kidnapper,” I told Tate, grabbing my jacket off the chair. “We need to move.”
Tate scratched the back of her head, staring intently at the photos. “That’s why he took her...”
I looked back at the whiteboard one last time.
Kimberly was never the target.
She was bait.