Authors: Dana Donovan
Tags: #paranormal, #detective, #witchcraft, #witch, #series
“
I heard what he said.
Kidnappers always say that. But you have to understand, Kelly is a
victim of tender age. The FBI has people for this sort of thing.
They have dedicated agents, limitless resources and vast experience
in kidnappings of all kinds.”
“
No, Detective. I’m sorry,
but I am not going to further jeopardize my daughter’s life by
bringing in the FBI. I’ll do whatever the kidnapper says. I’ll pay
the ransom and do anything else he wants, and by God’s will I’ll
get my little girl back.”
“
Mr. Brewbaker. I strongly
urge you to reconsider. The FBI––”
“
I said no, Detective.
Carlos. Tell him.”
Carlos grabbed hold of my shirtsleeve and
pulled me aside. He lowered his voice to a hush, but that did not
make what he had to say any more palatable. “Tony. Look. I know
Lionel. He won’t cooperate with the FBI. Not now. I think we need
to let him do this his way.”
“
But Carlos….”
“
No, listen. He trusts me.
He’ll let us in on this. I know he will. Tony, we can help him. We
have Dominic and E.I.N.I. and all the resources at the Justice
Center, the labs, the computers. Everything we need.”
“
I don’t know.”
“
I do. Trust me. If he
goes this completely alone, they’ll burn him, Tony. I know they
will. He’ll lose Kelly. They’ll kill her. It’s easier for them that
way. Lionel needs our guidance. We have to do this.” He squeezed my
forearm tight enough to bulge the veins in my hand. “What do you
say?”
What could I say? He was right and he knew
it. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t have a choice. I pulled my arm
from his grip and shook a stern finger at him. “Okay. No FBI, but
listen. This is still our show. You have to let him know he needs
to cooperate with us. He’s too emotional right now. We’ll keep a
low profile as long as we dare.”
“
Right. Got
it.”
“
I mean it.”
“
I said I got
it.”
We broke from our huddle and approached the
Brewbakers. Both were sitting on the couch, holding hands. Carlos
said, “Lionel, we’re not going to call in the FBI, but we still
need to establish certain protocols.”
“
Of course,” he said, and
it came to him so easily that I wondered if he had not already
reconsidered my initial plan.
Carlos continued. “We don’t typically see a
lot of kidnappings here in New Castle, but we’re not without
precedents. Tony here has led a few investigations concerning
similar crimes, and so I would like him to take the lead here, if
you don’t object.”
Lionel and Amanda Brewbaker shook their heads
in unison. I stepped forward, pressed my palms together and
steepled them under my chin. I wasn’t praying. I never do. Like
Lilith I don’t subscribe to one Almighty deity, some enigmatic
personification of spiritual divinity, a conception so divine in
itself as to defy understanding, and therefore explain the
unexplainable unquestionably. But that the Brewbakers thought I was
praying certainly didn’t hurt my chances of winning their
confidence. For if there was a Lord thy God, He knew I needed
Him.
“
All right,” I said, after
that moment of reflection. Here’s what we need to do. First off, we
set up a command center. We can do that here in this living room.
We’ll need to call in Spinelli and one other person to help us work
in shifts. I’m thinking Detective Olson. Is that okay with
you?”
“
Who are those other
people?” Brewbaker asked.
“
Spinelli is Detective
Dominic Spinelli with my department. He’s one of us.”
“
He’s good,” said Carlos,
nodding.
“
Yes, and so is Detective
Olson. She’s a long termer who just recently made detective. She’ll
work well with us.”
“
Fine,” said Brewbaker,
“But I don’t want to see any cop cars around here.”
“
You won’t. Both are
plainclothes and both will commute in unmarked cars. And we’ll all
use the back door when coming and going, just in case.”
There were no objections. I turned to Carlos.
“Why don’t you call Dominic now, see if he’s made it in yet. Get
him up to speed and ask him to see if we can get Olson out here.
Then have him start filling out a profile in the NCIC. Tell him
we’ll have more info for him shortly.”
“
Got it. Anything
else?”
“
Yeah, also have him
contact the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children.
Again, details to follow. Oh, and when he’s done with that, have
him check the sex offenders registry database for all known
offenders in the area. Tell him to print out a list with names,
addresses, phone numbers, etc. OK?”
“
I’m on it.”
“
Excuse me?” Lionel
Brewbaker stood and came to me. “That sounds like a lot of people
getting involved.”
“
Yes, sir. I know it
sounds like a lot. But these people will not actually be involved
in the investigation, per se. The NCIC is the National Crime
Information Computer. It allows––”
“
Detective, wait.” He
ushered me into the adjacent room, away from Mrs. Brewbaker. “I’m
fine with all that. I wanted to get you aside to tell you that I am
worried about Mandy.”
“
Of course,” I said. “I
understand. If she needs help coping with this, we have counselors
down at––”
“
No. I don’t mean I’m
worried for her mental well being. I mean I’m worried that she may
know more than she’s letting on.”
“
Come again?”
“
I asked her why she was
so late coming here to pick up Kelly today. She told me she was out
last night with some friends from her troupe.”
“
Her troupe?”
“
Her theatrical troupe.
She hooked up with them about a year ago. They’re performing at a
dinner club downtown, doing some play called Valley of the Giants.”
he shook his head in disgust. “They’re all a bunch of druggies and
prostitutes. Every one of them. They go out after the show and they
drink and party until dawn. Then they sleep all day, wake up in the
evening and do it all again.”
“
And you’re saying Mrs.
Brewbaker is doing that with them?”
“
Yes. That’s the reason
we’re divorcing. The reason I have primary custody of Kelly. The
only reason she has Kelly at all on the weekends is not that she
wants her, but that her lawyer wants her to have her. They’re
banking on a big alimony settlement and using Kelly as a bargaining
chip.”
“
Mr. Brewbaker, I feel for
you. I do. But just because your wife was out late partying last
night––”
“
No, no. It’s not just
that. It’s everything. Something’s not right.”
“
How so?”
“
Look at her.” We both
turned surreptitiously and did just that. “Does that look like a
woman whose child has just been abducted?”
“
Mr. Brewbaker, I am not
about to make judgments strictly on a person’s behavior, however, I
do plan to take full statements from you and her and everyone else
within arm’s-length of your daughter. But first we have to collect
as much information and evidence as we can.”
“
Tony!”
I turned and looked to see Carlos standing by
the front door next to a young boy of nine or ten years. He waved
me over.
“
What’s going
on?”
“
This is Brian Weismann.
He lives a couple of streets over.”
“
Hello, Brian.” I offered
my hand and he shook it. “Hey, nice grip you got there. I bet you
play ball.”
“
Yes, sir,” he answered. I
like that in a kid. You don’t hear kids today say yes sir and no
sir. Only yeah and no or uh-huh and nuh-uh. I blame TV, that and
the fall of the traditional family unit. But what do I
know?
“
Brian came here to return
some books he borrowed from Kelly,” said Carlos. “Look, they’re a
couple of classics.”
I took the books from Brian. “So they are.
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. Two of my
personal favorites.” That’s another thing you don’t see kids doing
today––reading. Between their cell phones, video games and
shoot-em-up DVDs, it’s no wonder books like that don’t fade into
obscurity altogether.
Carlos said, “Brian was also telling me about
a van that Kelly saw yesterday.”
“
Oh?”
Brian said, “Yes, sir. Kelly said one
followed her home from school yesterday.”
“
Did she say what it
looked like?”
“
Oh sure. She got a good
look at it. She said it was blue, dark blue I think, with tinted
windows. It was missing its hubcaps and had a broken side mirror on
the driver’s side.”
I looked at Carlos, thoroughly impressed with
the descriptive detail captured by a nine-year-old girl, and nearly
equally so with the recollection of the description by a
nine-year-old boy. I said to Brian, “Did Kelly get a look at the
driver or any of the passengers?”
He nodded. “She told me she didn’t see any
passengers on account of the tinted windows. But the driver’s
window was down so she got a good look at him. He’s a white guy
with dark skin or maybe a black guy with light skin.” He looked at
Carlos and pointed. “Like him.”
“
Latino?”
The boy shrugged. “He had an accent. The man
called her by name.”
“
He knew her?”
“
Maybe, but she didn’t
know him.”
“
Do you know what kind of
accent he had? Spanish maybe?”
The boy shook his head. “She didn’t say.”
“
Did she tell you anything
else?”
“
Yes, she said he asked
for directions.”
“
Directions? Do you know
where?”
“
Uh-huh. Mike’s
Pub.”
“
Mike’s Pub?” said Carlos.
“I know that place. It’s a bar down on Jefferson.”
“
What did Kelly tell the
man?”
“
Nothing,” said Brian.
“Kelly knows better than to talk to strangers. As soon as he tried
talking to her, she ducked into an alley and made a break for
home.”
“
I see, and that was
yesterday?”
“
Yes, sir.”
“
Did she tell anyone else?
An adult?”
He lifted his shoulders and dropped them. “I
don’t suppose so. There wasn’t much to it after that.”
“
Have you told anyone
else?”
“
Me? Nu-uh.”
Nu-uh? I thought. What happened to No sir?
“Brian, thank you for telling us about that. You did the right
thing. But the next time a stranger approaches you or someone you
know on the street like that, promise me you’ll let an adult know
right away. Do you understand?”
He nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“
Good boy.”
“
Is Kelly in
trouble?”
“
What? No. Kelly’s not in
trouble.”
“
Can I see her? Is she
upstairs?”
I looked up at Carlos and gave him the high
brow. He palmed the tops of the boy’s shoulders and gently turned
him toward the door. “Maybe next time, kid. The adults have some
work to do right now.”
He escorted him out, shut the door, and
rejoined us in the living room.”
“
That’s a big break,” I
said. “Carlos, did you get a hold of Dominic?”
“
Yeah, he’s starting on
the paperwork now.”
“
Call him back. Tell him
to put a BOLO out on that van.”
“
Got it.”
“
A BOLO?” said
Brewbaker.
“
Yes sir, that’s a
be-on-the-look-out notice. In another minute or two, every cop car
in the county will have that van’s description and will be looking
out for it.”
“
No! I said no
cops.”
“
Mr. Brewbaker, we have to
do this. Getting a description on the van is a huge lead for us. We
can’t ignore it.”
“
All right,” he said,
reluctantly “Do it.”
“
Now let’s get back to
Kelly. I thought you told me earlier she had no
friends.”
“
She doesn’t.”
“
What do you call
Brian?”
“
He’s not her friend. He’s
a schoolmate. He lives a couple of streets over. They share books
now and then.”
“
Kelly’s not allowed to
have friends, Detective.” This from Amanda Brewbaker, who until now
seemed content with her cigarettes and bourbon. “Especially if
they’re boys.”
“
That’s enough,
Mandy.”
“
Come on, Lionel, tell
them. If it were up to you, Kelly would be locked up in a tower
away from all her friends until she turned twenty-one.”
“
Kelly doesn’t have any
friends.”
“
Sure she does. She has
friends at school, at the riding academy, the dance studio. She’s a
very popular girl. She just doesn’t tell you about them because she
knows you won’t approve.”
“
That’s
nonsense.”
“
No, Lionel, nonsense is
not allowing the girl to watch TV. Have you noticed, Detectives,
there are no televisions in this house?”
“
Kelly doesn’t need TV.
She has her studies.”
“
Her studies. See, this is
the prison sentence one gets when one has an IQ of 140.”