Hostage Negotiation (8 page)

It was helping far more than she realized. But she’d just reminded him of his promise to let Drew know when she was ready to talk. He’d already kept her too long, and he needed to turn her over to the detectives. He rose, but motioned for her to stay seated.

“If you’re up for it, I’m going to have Drew and the others return. They want to interview you.”

“But I want to help you find Sue Ellen. Aren’t you going to take me to the swamp?”

Not a chance. He wasn’t going to victimize her by taking her to the scene of the crime. But he could avoid that conversation by telling her a different truth.

“The best way that you can help right now is to answer the detectives’ questions. Besides, by the time I could get a new search team organized to take you out there, it’d be getting dark. And it’s far too dangerous to be out there at night. None of our searchers stay out past nightfall.”

She slumped in her chair, looking dejected. “All right. I’ll answer their questions.”

“Thanks. I’ll let them know.”

“Zack?”

He turned at the door.

“Are you being honest when you say the searchers don’t stay out after dark?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

She studied him, as if weighing his words for truthfulness. “Okay. Then I won’t badger you to take me out there today. But I promise you. Nothing’s going to stop me from going out there tomorrow. I’d like you to go with me. I’ll feel safer that way. But if you refuse, then I’ll go with someone else. I’m not bluffing.”

Unfortunately, he could tell that she wasn’t. He didn’t doubt for a second that she’d do exactly what she’d said, head out there by herself if she had to. At first blush, that sounded crazy, reckless. But he understood exactly why she was being so stubborn—survivor’s guilt. And he couldn’t help but admire and respect that she was willing to risk everything to save a woman she’d never even met. That kind of selflessness and courage were rare in this world. And he had a feeling that was only the tip of the iceberg with Kaylee Brighton.

She was an intriguing woman, full of surprises. He certainly never would have suspected the backbone she had when he’d seen her fragile and scared in the hospital. But just because he respected her reasons for wanting to go out to the swamp and help with the search didn’t mean that he’d actually let her go. If he had to, he’d put her in protective custody. No way was she going out there.

He gave her a curt nod. She probably thought he was agreeing to take her searching tomorrow. And he felt a twinge of guilt for allowing her to think that. But it still didn’t change his mind.

After closing the door behind him, he hurried past the glass window down the hall to the squad room. He’d let the investigators know that they could interview Kaylee now. But Cole’s boss, Drew, would have to wait until Zack had a chance to talk to him before he could join them. Because everything that Kaylee had told him had just clicked together in his mind. And the picture that formed was about to send the investigation in a new direction.

He just hoped that Drew saw the picture the way he did, and agreed with the decision he’d made.

* * *

Z
ACK
STOOD
IN
front of Drew’s desk, waiting for his reaction. He didn’t have to wait long.

“What do you mean, we’re searching in the wrong place?” Drew motioned to the group of detectives in the squad room through the glass door of his office, letting them know to go ahead to the conference room to interview Kaylee without him.

Zack brought Drew up to speed on everything that Kaylee had just told him. Then he hooked his foot on the leg of one of the guest chairs and scooted it over to the front of the desk before plopping down on it.

“We searched the area where we found Kaylee,” Zack said. “And came up empty. The rains destroyed any footprints or trail, and there wasn’t much to go on. But we did the best we could. We went back for several hours in every direction, going much farther than we thought she could have possibly run with her captor chasing her and still, nothing. We also assumed that the killer wouldn’t return to that area since Kaylee had escaped. He’d be a fool to do so, right? So when we didn’t find anything, we turned our focus on other areas, close to where the other women were abducted.”

“Which yielded Mary Watkins’s body, a mile from where she’d last been seen. So what’s your point about searching in the wrong spot?”

“My point is that Mary was killed close to the time that I found Kaylee. Which means she had to have been killed in the same area where Kaylee had last been held—not where we found Mary’s body. The killer—”

“Moved the body to throw us off.”

“Right. He didn’t want her found anywhere near where he’d kept Kaylee. Because that’s one of his camps, one of his favorite places to take his victims. He doesn’t want to do anything that would make us search harder in that area. And we’ve been focusing on public paths, recreation areas, parts of the Glades where he’d have access to new victims. All of that makes sense, given the parameters we had at the time. But based on Mary’s time of death, and the fact that she was with Kaylee shortly before she died, I think we need to narrow our grid, go back to where we found Kaylee and start over.”

“Because of these so-called camps that she told you about?”

“Partly, yes. We’ve gone along with the FBI’s belief that the killer was moving on with every victim, taking what amounted to Plexiglas coffins with him. But Kaylee said he didn’t take the boxes. They remained in the ground. That means he has permanent camps, places he’s probably worked on for months, or longer, to set up where he never expected they’d be found, because no one would ever think to go that deep, that far, into the swamp to find them. She said he always had plenty of supplies. I bet he keeps those at the camps as well, hidden somewhere. If he doesn’t want to haul a box around, he’s not going to haul his supplies around every time he moves either. He’s not going to just give all that up. He’s got a good thing going.”

“If these camps are so good, why move at all?”

Zack shrugged. “Maybe he has to head into populated areas on occasion to replenish his supplies, and he worries about the same people seeing him and maybe wondering where he’s going. So he switches it up. I don’t know. It could just be his signature, the way he plays his game. Or something else. But one thing I know for sure is that he’s a creature of habit. He always goes back to the same places eventually.”

Drew rocked back in his chair. “Assuming you’re right, then what you’re telling me is that this guy is counting on us giving up on our searches, not going far enough, deep enough. And he therefore thinks his camp locations are safe from discovery. Meaning, he might still be out there in the same camp where he was the day you found Kaylee?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“So, if we’d just searched another hour or two where you found her, you think we’d, what, stumble onto one of the camps?”

Zack shook his head. “Not just a couple more hours. It would have to be deep enough in for him to light a campfire that others wouldn’t see. And when Kaylee escaped from the camp, the killer had already taken Mary out of the box. As soon as they were out of sight, Kaylee took off. But I discovered her an hour after sunrise. To her, it probably only seemed like a few hours. There’s no way she’d have a good grasp of time as dehydrated and messed up as she was. But in reality, if she escaped right after dark and I found her when the sun was up—”

“She could have been on the run in those woods a lot longer than she realized.”

“Exactly. We need to go back and go deeper than we’ve ever gone out there. We need to start over. We need to—”

Drew raised his hand, stopping him. “Hold it. Your timeline is off. If you assume that Kaylee was several hours from the camp when you found her, then how did her captor kill Mary within an hour or two of when you found Kaylee? The M.E. is confident about time of death, based on insect activity, among other things. That timeline implies the camp was only two hours in.”

“We went two hours in. And never found it,” Zack reminded him.

“No, we never found it.” Drew tapped his fingers on the desk, deep in thought.

“The timeline makes sense if Kaylee’s captor took Mary with him after discovering that Kaylee had fled. That would have slowed him down, allowing Kaylee to get as far ahead as she did. But of course he did eventually catch up to her.”

“And tied or chained Mary somewhere on the trail, probably gagged her so she couldn’t scream, while he went to finish Kaylee off? That’s what you’re thinking, right?”

“Right. But when Cole and I came along and he decided not to risk a confrontation, he turned back, killed Mary and got away while we were riding along in the ambulance and before we realized there was a reason to get the police searching those woods. And remember, again, about the campfires and flashlights Kaylee mentioned. Light from something like a campfire is visible a long way off in the dark. For him to be that bold, he’d have to have his camps far, far away from anywhere that he’d expect someone to ever be. Which reinforces the idea, again, of the camps being even farther into the Glades than we’d thought.”

Drew nodded. “That would explain our lack of success with the searches. But I didn’t exactly send a bunch of greenhorns out there. They spent hours combing that area and didn’t find anything.”

“They went in after a rainstorm, which obliterated any trail that Kaylee or the others might have left. And we all believed that the killer wouldn’t have stuck around, or returned, assuming instead that he traveled to new places every time. The idea of established camps didn’t cross our minds. So when we found no evidence of anyone passing through, we moved on, getting farther and farther away and searching other areas. I’m thinking now that decision was a mistake. I believe the killer will come back, if he hasn’t already, which should give us new clues, a new trail to follow.”

Drew held his hands up as if in surrender. “All right, all right. You’ve raised enough questions to make me agree that searching that initial area again where you found Kaylee makes more sense than searching the outlying areas we’ve been targeting. Especially if all of this adds up to the killer wanting to keep his established bases.”

Zack nodded, relieved that Drew was seeing this the way that he was. It helped reassure him that he wasn’t grasping, that it made sense to pull the teams off the other grids. He didn’t want to kick himself later for doing that if the killer ended up being in one of the areas they stopped searching.

“There’s something else to consider.” Zack rested his forearms on the desk. “This isn’t related to the search strategy. But it
is
related to the case. Kaylee said the killer usually only came there very early in the morning, or at night. If we assume that he switches back and forth between his camps more as a killer’s signature, or routine, than because he’s worried that someone has seen him in town getting supplies, then there’s another plausible explanation for why he’s never at the camps during the day.”

Drew’s mouth tightened into a hard line. “Our perp probably has a job, a day job. And he works and lives close enough to the camps that he can make it to work on time every day. Our killer is Mr. Upstanding Citizen during the day and psycho killer at night. But we’d already figured that as a possibility.”

“True, but we also thought he was moving around more than we now think he is. We figured he might be a truck driver, or a salesman, something that would allow for a larger territory. Now I don’t think that’s the case. We need to tell Special Agent Willow about the camps, that the killer has a more condensed, established area where he keeps his victims, that he probably has a steady day job. Willow should see if he can get us a new profile.”

“He’s busy on another case now, but I imagine I can at least talk to him over the phone and see if he can get someone to revisit the profile.”

“He sounds like an organized killer to me. He’s intelligent, able to blend in as a normal guy at work. We’re dealing with someone who either called in sick or took vacation on the day of each of the abductions, and was either late or absent the morning that I found Kaylee.”

“All good points. I’ll ask Willow whether he thinks we should release the profile to the media once he works it up. If people hear the dates of the three abductions that we know about, and that the guy is probably a hunter or avid outdoorsman to be that familiar with the Glades, with little to no nightlife because he’s always too busy with his prey to go out for drinks after work, that might give us some hits.”

“It also might give you a huge headache with hundreds of tips that lead nowhere, people ratting out the coworkers they can’t stand, just to cause them trouble.”

Drew shrugged. “I can’t let the fear of false tips guide my decisions. If Willow thinks it’s a good idea to publish our theories and an updated profile, we will. I’ll hire some temps to man the phones if I have to. I don’t want another Mary Watkins happening on my watch. So I’ll take any help that I can at this point, even if it means dealing with the crazies over a tip line.”

Drew shoved away from his desk and stood. “I hope that Miss Brighton can give us more details to add to the ones you gleaned. A description of the vehicle she was hauled around in would be a great start. Maybe her blindfold wasn’t always tight and she caught a glimpse of something, anything, that we can use to figure out the vehicle type.”

Zack strode to the office door ahead of Drew. “While you and your guys interview Kaylee, I’ll get a fresh map and work up new plans for tomorrow’s round of searches. I’ll brief the teams when they get back today so we’ll be ready to go bright and early. God willing, we’ll find Sue Ellen and have our killer in custody by tomorrow afternoon.”

Chapter Nine

Several hours later Zack stood in another conference room directing the searchers on the plan of attack for tomorrow morning. He leaned over the table and drew a red square on the large map of the Everglades spread out on top. Inside the square were smaller squares with GPS coordinates and the initials of the team who would search each area, all of the grids much closer to Mystic Glades this time.

Because they were starting over.

“Now that you’ve each selected your search grid, make sure you stick to that grid so that we cover as much ground as possible. No overlaps.”

He studied the mix of law-enforcement personnel and civilians, twenty-two men and women standing around the table, eleven two-person teams, as they wrote down information about their assigned search areas and looked at the map. Most of them he knew from working together over the past few weeks doing these laborious searches, like police veterans Robert Spear and Dennis Howard. Some he’d only met at this meeting, fresh teams that were just now joining the other volunteers to help out, including two Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation officers, Jasper Carraway and Gene Theroux.

Gene was a friend of Cole’s and had worked in conjunction with the Collier County Sheriff’s Office on many a search-and-rescue operation over the years. Jasper was a veteran from the Northwest Regional FFW Office in the state’s panhandle. He’d taken vacation for the express purpose of driving down here to help.
All
of these men and women had volunteered their personal time to slog through the mosquito-laden, alligator-infested swamp looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack.

“Some of you know the routine already but some of you are new so it bears repeating. We’ll all meet in the parking lot at zero nine hundred sharp. From there we’ll caravan out to the search grid where some deputies will establish our base of operations, providing us food, water, medical supplies, basically any support we might need. That’s the rendezvous point for everyone at day’s end. Your shifts end at sundown, which is about nineteen-hundred this time of year. For the civilians among you, that’s nine in the morning to about seven at night, with breaks whenever you need them. If we find something promising, we’ll mark the spot and head straight there the next day using four-wheelers to save time. Then we’ll continue the search from where we left off. I know a lot of you are anxious to help, and get frustrated that we’re so strict about the cutoff times. But it’s too dangerous out there to be fumbling around in the dark. And each of you has to check in at the base so we know that everyone is safe and accounted for.”

He looked around, making sure everyone was paying attention. “My usual speech still applies—don’t count on your cell phones or even the GPS in your cars to do much good out there. Something about that swamp plays havoc with electronics. Tomorrow morning we’re searching an area we searched previously, between five and ten miles northeast of a town called Mystic Glades, depending upon which grid you chose. So some of you on the far side might actually have better luck with your cell phones. But don’t rely on that. Memorize the landmarks we’ve noted on the map to help keep from getting lost. If you find anything that you think could be a clue about Miss Fullerton’s whereabouts, or her abductor, or if you just get turned around and lost, stay put, fire a flare, wait for backup.”

“Wait,” one of them said. “Why are we going over the same search area if we’ve already checked it out?”

“Because new evidence has surfaced to make us believe that a fresh look at these areas is warranted. Those of you in law enforcement, wear your vests. The rest of you, we’ll pass out vests in the morning. I know it’s hot and muggy out there and Kevlar can be miserable this time of year. But it might also save your life. So keep it on. We believe the killer may have returned to this section of the Glades, so everyone needs to be on high alert and extra careful.”

Surprised glances were exchanged around the table, and the low buzz of conversation filled the room as they considered this new development. Zack made a point of looking at each one of them until he regained their undivided attention. Even though he was just a police chief without any of his own deputies yet—having canceled the interviews the day he found Kaylee—he’d been trusted with the role as the search coordinator. And he took that role very seriously. He didn’t want to have anyone hurt or lost on his watch.

“Above all,” he continued, “be alert for predators of both the two-foot and four-foot variety. The gators will pretty much leave you alone as long as you leave them alone. But if you end up stepping on one, you’re likely to get your leg bitten off. So don’t put your foot somewhere that you can’t see the bottom. Meaning, stay out of the water, ladies and gentlemen. We’re doing a dry-land search. If we decide it’s warranted, we’ll have teams who specialize in water searches finish up our grids the next day.”

“How do we know if it’s warranted?” That question came from one of the newer deputies, Rick Carlson. Even though he was a rookie, in his first year on the force, he wasn’t some greenhorn kid that Zack had to worry about. This was Carlson’s second career after being laid off from his previous job. And he’d been one of the first to volunteer to help with the search.

Everyone, from newbie to seasoned officer, was pulling together like a big family in an effort to locate Fullerton. Zack just hoped he’d be lucky enough to find some deputies half as dedicated as them when he was able to return to the chore of hiring his own employees.

“Each of you is the one who makes that decision,” Zack said, in answer to Carlson’s question. “After your shift is over tomorrow and you check in at the base of operations, you’ll fill out a report showing what grid you searched, along with your recommendations for any further searching of that area. Recommendations include things like footprints, drag marks, bent or broken branches leading to the water...pretty much anything that might indicate that someone went through there into the water.

“In the shallow areas, be on the lookout for fabric or discarded items like canteens, trash of any kind. We’re not going into a common camping area so trash would be a dead giveaway that someone’s been out there who shouldn’t have been. Note those things clearly in your notebooks and then later in your reports. I’ll evaluate those reports and decide if other resources and search teams should be brought in to finish up the grids.”

Carlson nodded.

“Sounds good.” This from Carlson’s search partner, Deputy Alan Thomas. Like the rookie, Thomas was fairly new to the force. But unlike Carlson, he had a dozen years of policing underneath his belt, having transferred from Broward County. An avid outdoorsman, he’d grown up in the area, claimed to know the Everglades better than anyone else. And he was itching to find the man who’d dared to use his sacred Glades as his own personal torture chamber for three women.

“Thank you again for volunteering,” Zack said. “I’ll see you all in the morning.”

The teams filed out of the room, leaving Zack to rehang the map on the white board using the magnet circles someone had placed on the upper-right corner. Then he went off to find Deputy Holder, his search partner. They’d been working together for several weeks and he trusted Holder. But after they’d returned from the airport, Holder had disappeared. Zack assumed he’d been sidetracked filling out a report or perhaps doing a favor for one of his teammates. But he was surprised that Holder hadn’t at least attended the end-of-day debriefing and planning session like he usually did. Zack was counting on Holder to be his search partner tomorrow. He’d personally chosen the most important grid on the map—the one that encompassed the exact spot where Kaylee had stumbled out onto the road in front of his truck.

He headed down the back hallway, past several other conference rooms on his way to the squad room again. As he passed the room where he’d been with Kaylee earlier, he couldn’t help stopping to check on her. He leaned against the wall, several feet back from the large glass cutout.

Sitting at the middle of the table, Kaylee was surrounded by five detectives, including Cole. The FBI had left a week ago, leaving the search to Collier County. They were still engaged in the investigation long-distance, and had offered to put a rush on processing any forensic evidence that might be found. But for the most part they’d gone on to other, higher-profile cases with a better chance of success.

Still, Special Agent Willow would probably spit nails once he found out that he’d missed his chance to interview Kaylee. He’d believed she would be the key to the investigation all along. And from seeing the determined look on Kaylee’s face right now as she answered questions, Zack was inclined to agree.

She’d been in that room for hours. Judging by the piles of fast-food trash on the far end of the table, she hadn’t even gotten to leave for lunch. But she seemed to be holding up well, so Zack continued down the hallway. At the sound of a door closing, and footsteps behind him, he looked back to see Cole coming out of the conference room where Kaylee had been and heading his way.

“Hold up, Zack.” Cole hurried toward him and they stopped and faced each other. “Where are you headed?”

Zack waved toward the end of the hallway that led into the open squad room. “Trying to find Deputy Holder so I can prep him about our search plans for tomorrow. Have you seen him?”

“He got a call from his kid’s school. His youngest son is sick so he took off to pick him up and take him to the doctor before they close.”

“Anything serious?”

“I don’t think so. But the kid was running a fever and the school won’t let him come back without a doctor’s note.”

Zack nodded. Since Jo Lynne’s cancer had canceled his plans to be a husband and eventually a father, he wasn’t fortunate enough to have any kids himself. But he had enough friends with kids to know the routine. “Guess I’ll have to reassign one of the other search teams to join me in the morning.”

“Before you go, I wanted to catch you up on the interview with Kaylee,” Cole said. “She’s remembered an amazing amount of information. She’s even worked with a sketch artist to give us a rendering of her abductor.”

“I thought he wore a mask the whole time.”

“He did, but the artist was able to help her remember other details that could be helpful—like that he’s about six feet tall, broad-shouldered, muscular. He’s Caucasian with dark eyes, probably brown. From his build and general mannerisms, she guessed him to be anywhere from his late twenties to late thirties.”

Zack snorted. “Which means he could be at least half of the men in this building, including me if I wore brown contacts. I thought you said she’d given you an amazing amount of information.”

“She did, mostly about his routine, how often he was there.” His eyes took on a haunted look. “What he did to her. I’ve seen a lot over the years, but what she went through is just...beyond horrible. The only good thing is that she was never
successfully
sexually assaulted, if you get my meaning. But she was still assaulted nonetheless. He just couldn’t penetrate because of whatever problems he has in that area. He blamed her and punished her for it, thus the cuts, the burns, the bruises.” He shook his head. “It’s a miracle she survived as long as she did and didn’t end up suffering a complete breakdown. She—”

While Cole continued to talk about the interview, Zack tried to tune out the parts about what Kaylee had suffered. The idea that someone could willingly hurt her was beyond his comprehension, and had him fighting mad. It also had him wanting to rush back to the conference room and pull her into his arms, which was beyond stupid. She might have latched on to him as the man she felt had saved her, but that was all she felt for him.

This odd sense of protectiveness that he felt toward her was something he needed to deal with and get past. She’d been through too much to ever want anything more from him than his protection—in spite of how his own thoughts had been turning since picking her up at the airport.

It shamed him to admit it, but seeing her somewhere other than a hospital for a change had him noticing her as the beautiful woman she was and not as a victim anymore. And that had sent a jolt of lust straight to his belly. Which of course made him disgusted with himself for even thinking of her that way. She’d been through unthinkable trauma at the hands of a stranger. She shouldn’t have to worry that the man that she thought of as her protector had more than protective feelings for her.

“Which leads me to my next question,” Cole said. “Will you do it?”

Zack stared at him, trying to think back to what Cole had been saying.

“Did you hear
anything
I just said?” Cole asked, sounding exasperated.

“Some of it. Sorry. My mind wandered. What did you want me to do?”

The door to the conference room opened down the hall again and Kaylee stepped out, along with her contingent of detectives. She saw him and immediately started his way.

“What’s going on?” Zack asked, wishing he’d paid more attention. Because he had a very bad feeling about whatever Cole was expecting of him, and why Kaylee and the others had just stopped beside him, looking at him expectantly.

“Give us a second.” Cole pulled Zack several feet away and leaned in close. “You and I both know the investigation has stalled. The only commonality that we’ve found between the victims, aside from gender and that they were each vacationing alone, is that they all booked their trips through a travel agency. But none of them used the
same
travel agency. We need a break in this case, otherwise I wouldn’t—”

“Wait. I hadn’t heard that. All three women booked through a travel agency? That’s a heck of a coincidence. Do the agencies share some kind of online reservation service? Maybe the killer hacked in and found out the women’s itineraries. That’s how he was able to surprise them and abduct them.”

Cole nodded. “I’ve already got my team looking into that angle. Even though there isn’t an obvious connection between the agencies, we’re going to try to get the owners to come in voluntarily for interviews—tonight if we can swing it, or early in the morning. Assuming the owners are cooperative, we’ll look at their financials, search for red flags. But it’s probably a waste of time, certainly nothing worthy of trying to get a warrant over. At least, so far. We’ll see. The problem of course is that even with detectives working the case around the clock, the investigation is slow going, with no truly promising leads. You and I both know that the longer Fullerton is missing, the lower the odds are that we’ll find her alive. Which is the only reason I would ever dream of asking you to do this.”