Chapter 28
He was still thinking of her when he pushed through the doors to the station, waved at the lone security guard, and strode through the deserted lobby to the back stairs. Candace had looked so frightened and alone. He hated to leave her after dropping the bombshell that her attacker was possibly a serial abductor, and she was his next target.
But he didn’t have a choice. Something big was up. The urgency in Joe’s gravelly voice made that clear. And so, he’d done one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do in his life—he walked out her door and left her. Once in his car, he’d set the sirens blasting and the lights flashing and raced to the precinct.
As soon as he found out what Joe wanted, he’d head back to Candace’s house. His gut pinged with the certainty she was in imminent danger. Like a typical serial perpetrator, her attacker would be upset Candace had escaped his clutches. The bastard wouldn’t give up. He’d strike again.
And soon.
He rubbed the knot in his gut and almost turned the car around. How could he have left her? What was he thinking? She needed protection. But then he recalled the series of disastrous events that had severed his career in Seattle, and his promise to himself that it would never happen again.
Candace would be fine. She had good-quality locks on her doors and windows and a state-of-the-art security system. He ignored the tingle of unease in the deepest pit of his gut and bounded up the stairs two at a time and loped down the short hall to the detectives' bullpen. Shoving open the glass door, he wove through the maze of desks and empty rolling chairs.
Instead of the usual cacophony of ringing telephones and the buzz of loud conversations, the room was eerily quiet. Joe was the only person in the office. The other detectives were at home enjoying their Sunday evening with their families and nursing hangovers.
Joe hunched over his desk, studying a thick file. Four, large, dust-covered cardboard boxes were stacked on the floor beside his desk.
“What’s up?” Aiden dragged a chair over to Joe’s desk, turned the chair around, and straddled the seat, crossing his arms on the chair’s back rail. “What’s so urgent you had to call me away from a witness interview?”
Joe set down the sheaf of papers and smirked. “You were with that broad again, weren’t you? If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect something was going on with you and the good professor.”
Joe’s sarcasm rankled, but Aiden didn’t bother defending himself. What would be the point? Joe wouldn’t believe him no matter what he said. Besides, the sooner Aiden learned what his partner was up to, the sooner he could get back to Candace. “Why did you call me down here?”
Joe lifted the top file on his desk and handed it to Aiden.
Aiden studied the grimy, coffee-stained cover and frowned. “What is this?”
“Duh.” Joe’s lip curled. “A file folder.”
Aiden ground down on his back molars so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised if a tooth cracked. “Where did you get it?” As far as he knew the department had gone digital years ago. Paper copies of the files of solved and unsolved cases were stored somewhere off site.
“I ordered them a few months back. Took this long for the files to get here.” Joe sat back and smoothed the palm of his hand over his short gray hair. “Gotta love modern technology. In the old days these files would have been in a filing cabinet in the basement. Now they’re all the way over at the state capital in some warehouse.” He frowned. “Makes no sense, if you ask me.”
Aiden strove for calm. He didn’t have time to sit around looking at old, solved cases and bitching about how things had changed. He waved the folder in the air. “What’s in here that has you so fired up?”
Joe’s chair squeaked in protest when he sat back and crossed his arms over his ample chest. “Open it and see for yourself.”
Aiden flipped open the cover. The heading on the top document caught his attention, and his body stilled, every cell standing at attention. The file was an investigation into the Forgotten Five abductions. “What the hell? Why are you looking at these old files?”
Joe’s smile was more a feral grin than an actual smile. He pointed to the boxes on the floor. “Took me hours to go through these dusty old files, but my hunch and solid, dogged police work paid off.” He clasped his hands over his chest and twirled his thumbs. “While you were out flirting with the pretty professor, I was doing the hard work.”
Aiden wanted to punch the smug expression off Joe’s face. Instead, he fisted his hands and dug deep for patience. “Are you going to tell me what you found? Or do I have to guess?”
The corners of Joe’s mouth twitched. He nodded at the file in Aiden’s hand. “Flip through to the second-to-last page.”
Aiden heaved a weary sigh and rifled through the thick file. Page after page of reports of investigations, witness interviews, ME reports, black-and-white photographs of fingerprints, building exteriors and interiors, crime scenes… He stopped. Ice glazed his gut as he stared at the photographs of the five girls. His eyes burned, but he couldn’t look away, couldn’t blink.
“Well? What do you think?” Joe’s smoker’s-roughened voice broke through Aiden’s stunned shock.
Aiden met his partner’s gloating gaze. “Jesus! How did someone not catch this when Amanda Jacobs went missing?”
Joe rubbed his red-streaked eyes. “From the moment I saw her picture, something twigged, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. I had a gut feeling, so I put in a request for those files. They arrived this morning, and I’ve been looking through them ever since.” He nodded at the page filled with photos. I found that an hour ago. That’s why I called you in.”
Aiden studied the youthful faces of the Forgotten Five victims and shuddered. “You did good, partner.” He fought to keep the surprise out of his voice. “This is damn good detective work.”
Joe sat up straighter and beamed. “Then you see the same thing I do?”
Aiden nodded. “The Forgotten Five victims all have long dark hair and light-blue eyes. Just like Amanda Jacobs, the victim from Lynn Canyon, and the girl whose bones we found in that cave in Creighton Springs State Park.” He’d known the cases were connected. Damn right he had. Now they had indisputable proof. He handed the file folder to Joe. “It can’t be the same perp. The Forgotten Five case was over twenty years ago. The man who took those girls would be too old to be committing these crimes.”
“Agreed.” Joe opened another case file and handed it to Aiden. “This is a police artist’s sketch of the man who held the Forgotten Five victims.”
Aiden’s hand shook as he opened the folder and studied the face of the monster who’d kidnapped five young girls and tortured them on a rustic farm deep in the woods. The man in the drawing was middle aged with strands of gray in his long, greasy dark hair and thick beard. Deep lines scored his weathered face. The investigators at the time had put his age as late fifties.
Joe shoved back his chair and stood. “Want some coffee?”
Aiden was too fixated on Isaiah’s composite sketch to look up. His mind whirled as a thousand scenarios played through his brain in vivid technicolor. But the loudest inner voice screamed that Candace was in danger.
The earthy smell of dark roast filled the air, and Joe shoved a steaming cup of coffee into Aiden’s hand. “Drink up. You look like you could use the caffeine.”
“Thanks.” He sipped and winced as the hot coffee burned the tip of his tongue and tapped the drawing. “This guy was in his fifties. He’d be in his late seventies now. If he’s even alive. He’d be too old to be running around abducting young girls.”
Joe slurped coffee. “Looks like we have a copycat.”
Aiden’s gut clenched. “They never found the perp, did they?”
Joe shook his head. “No. By the time the FBI raided the farm, Isaiah was long gone, along with one of his victims.”
“Charlene Cooper.”
Joe nodded. “It was never spoken of aloud, but we all figured someone on the force leaked intel about the raid, and the perp knew we were coming. He grabbed Charlene Cooper and took off just hours before our guys could take him down.” His mouth tightened. “You should've seen that place. The poor girls were chained to metal pipes in the shed, terrified he’d come back and punish them if they tried to escape. Worse crime scene I’ve ever attended. Bar none.
“I don’t know how any of those girls survived. That son of a bitch messed with their minds and bodies big time. He made them call him Isaiah, as if he were some sort of Biblical prophet.” Disgust laced his gruff voice. “By the time they were freed, they needed counseling. One of the victims killed herself a year later. Another ended up on the streets strung out on drugs.” He shook his head. “It was a fricken’ nightmare.”
Aiden gripped the chair back, his nails digging into the hard plastic. Candace’s sister was one of those girls. She’d been snatched from her bedroom and held hostage for twenty days, enduring unthinkable abuse at the hands of the monster who’d taken her.
When the police raided the farm, Charlene wasn’t one of the emaciated and battered girls found chained in the shed. She was never seen again. The theory was that Isaiah killed her, but even though investigators scoured the farm and nearby woods, using high-tech sonar to check beneath the ground and K9 search teams, her remains were never found.
He slammed the file closed, unable to look at the sick bastard who’d ruined five young girls’ lives. But Isaiah’s bearded face was branded on his eyeballs. Aiden slurped another gulp of the high-octane coffee. “The man Candace Cooper saw in Creighton Springs Park the day she found those bloody footprints in the snow had a dark beard. You knew that, right?”
Joe grimaced, his cheeks flushing red. “Yeah.”
“And yet, you dismissed her report.”
Joe shrugged. “What was I supposed to do? She’s a pain in the ass. Her sister was one of the Forgotten Five. She’s been hounding us for years, making all sorts of baseless accusations. I couldn’t trust what she said.”
“She reported suspicious activity to the police.” Raging fire burned through him. “It was your job to investigate.”
“I did.” Joe huffed a breath, but his gaze shifted sideways. “I took her statement, and I went out there with a couple of uniformed cops and searched the forest.”
“How well did you search? Did you sit in your car with the heater running and look at the snow outside? Was that the extent of your so-called search?”
Moisture beaded on Joe’s forehead. “What did you expect me to do? The temperature had dropped, and it had snowed a good foot the night before. I nearly froze my ass off.” He grabbed a crumpled paper napkin from the desk and blotted his face. “Searching was a waste of time. The chances of finding anything were slim to none.”
Aiden lurched to his feet and tossed the file folder on Joe’s desk, disgust at his partner’s laziness like a beast raging inside him. He stormed across the room.
“Where are you going?”
Joe’s voice followed him out of the bullpen and down the short hall to the captain’s office. When he’d arrived, he’d noticed her office light was on. The pressure from her superiors was intense, and she was putting in the overtime hours just like him and Joe.
Not bothering to knock, he slammed open the door so hard it bounced back against the wall.
Captain Cerroli looked up and frowned. “Farrell! What the hell?”
He strode to her desk and towered over her, no longer able to rein in his fury. “These abductions are all connected. Breacher found photos of the Forgotten Five victims.” He pounded the desk, uncaring that his actions would likely end in his being fired or demoted to traffic detail. “The girls all have similar appearances. We’re looking at a serial.” His other fist hit the desk.
She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “So, what are you planning to do about it?”
He blinked. “Me?”
“Look, Farrell, I know you got yourself in hot water in Seattle, but you’re a good cop and an even better detective. I saw that from the first day you started here. No one works harder than you or puts in longer hours.”
He blinked again. She was saying all the words he’d wanted to hear, words that exonerated him, words he thought he’d never hear again. A week ago, he’d have been jubilant, but now her praise didn’t matter. Not when Candace was in danger, and Amanda Jacobs still missing. “We need to protect Candace Cooper. She’s in imminent danger. She saw the guy who tried to abduct her.” He wanted to pound his fist on the desk again, but a spark of restraint remained in his brain, and instead, he clenched his hands so tight his fingers ached. “Let me take her into protective custody.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He’d expected a fight.
“I trust you, Farrell. Do what you think is best.”
A warm flush washed over him. “What about Amanda Jacobs? What’s the department doing about finding her?”
“I don’t have a choice.” She grimaced. “This thing is bigger than we can handle. I don’t have the manpower.” Her gaze slid from his. “That’s why I’m here on a Sunday. I’ve called in the FBI. They’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.”
The FBI? His gut lurched. Once the Feds arrived, he’d have to turn over all his evidence. They’d take control of the investigation. His investigation. He’d be cast aside, a spectator to his own case.
“I know how you feel, but believe me, I don’t have a choice.” Her eyes narrowed. “Twenty-four hours. You have until then to work the case. Let’s see what you can do. I don’t care about the overtime.”
Twenty-four hours.
Twenty-four hours to find Amanda and catch the scumbag who took her. Twenty-four hours to keep Candace safe. The task was daunting, but he’d do his damnedest. Damn right, he would. Twenty-four hours was a good solid day. There’d be no sleeping, no resting. He’d make every second count. He jerked around and strode to the door.
“Oh, and Farrell, make sure you follow the book. This case is exploding. Lots of eyes are on this. I don’t want the Feds coming back at us. My butt’s on the line here.” She narrowed her eyes, pinning him with a hard gaze. “Yours too.”
He nodded. Her meaning was clear. If he messed up this case, his police career was over. Refusing to think of the consequences, he grasped the door handle and charged out of her office.
He tore out of the precinct and ran down the back stairway, taking the stairs two at a time. Flinging open the door, he raced across the parking lot to his car. His hand was on the door handle when a voice stopped him.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
He sighed. He didn’t have time for Joe. Not now. Not when he had to reach Candace. “Leave it alone, Joe.” He flung open the car door and jumped behind the wheel and inserted the key in the ignition. A shadow fell over him.
Joe leaned into the car, his face inches from Aiden, his coffee-laced, sour breath blasting. “I thought we were partners.”
Aiden bit back his impatience. Joe was right. They were a team, and his partner deserved to know what Aiden was up to. He heaved a sigh. “I’m going to Candace Cooper’s house. If your theory’s right, we have a copycat kidnapper out there, and she’s the only one who can identify him. That makes her a target.”
Joe pulled back a few inches. “Good idea. You do that while I continue scouring those old files. I can’t help but think there’s something else in them we’ve missed.” He stepped back. “Keep me posted.”
Aiden started the car and shifted into gear, jammed his foot on the gas, and roared out of the lot.