Lullaby for the Nameless (34 page)
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-THREE
Inside, the station had remained much the same as it had been, but outside the station there was one noticeable difference. A semicircle path had been built on the lawn on the far side of the building, where a bench had been placed in front of a fountain.
A fountain of cherubs dancing around a cross, with a simple inscription beneath that read, “For he who sacrificed himself for the nameless.”
Ashlyn turned to the bench, which had a single name inscribed on a metal plate against the back.
There was nowhere to escape. She was hundreds of miles from the city in a town where buildings were scattered throughout mountains and countryside, minutes from roads that wound their way through the forests and into the hills, away from homes and people, yet she felt as though it was all pressing in on her, that there was no place she could go where she could breathe.
Or where she could forget.
Months after her original assignment in Nighthawk Crossing and here she was again, waiting on a sergeant who had to consider the fact that they didn’t have any physical evidence that justified searching the Campbell property.
The last time, Sullivan had been emphatic. There was no probable cause. They’d have to follow the leads they had and hope to find enough evidence to support a warrant. No shortcuts.
This time, Winters echoed those words. To make matters worse, Campbell was dead, Hobbs in prison. The property had recently been sold, and there wasn’t one piece of physical evidence that tied it to the new cases.
Eighteen months earlier, when she’d come to terms with Sullivan’s decision and went to see how Tain was handling it, he’d been gone. Unwilling to wait, he’d disregarded a direct order. They’d had no choice then; they had to go out on the pretense of questioning Eddie.
This time, Tain was inside, still pleading his case.
Her phone rang and she answered, half expecting it to be Tain, making sure she was okay.
“Ashlyn, it’s Sims.” There was a pause. “I did some checking on those addresses you gave me. From the original canvas.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” She remembered placing the call before they’d left Kelowna, not really expecting anything useful to come of it.
“Most of the residents have been cleared. There’s
only two we haven’t tracked down. Neighbors say Mrs. Thiessen likes to spend the winter in Arizona, and as far as they know she’s still there.”
“What about the people you did talk to?”
“Nothing useful. They’d either been out of town or at work.” Sims paused. “The thing is, the more people I spoke to, the more interesting it got. Seems every single one of them was at something that was part of their regular schedule. They went skiing in Whistler the same weekend every month, or they always worked that shift on that day. There wasn’t one person I spoke to who just happened to be out.”
“Interesting.” Except it wasn’t. She turned from the bench only to be confronted with the fountain, and finally moved so that her back was to both of them. There were enough reminders without looking at permanent memorials. “Well, let me know if you find the last person.”
“The last address? It’s a rental. A new tenant moved in three months ago by the name of Parker.”
It wasn’t an uncommon name. No reason to think…
“I talked to the owner,” Sims said. “His tenant’s place of employment is listed as the Port Moody Police Department.”
She closed her eyes, felt her body sway and opened her eyes again. “What are you saying, Sims?”
“It’s the same Parker.”
Lulu could have been telling them the truth, and they’d dismissed her out of hand. She might really have seen Parker, in uniform, moments after he’d disposed of Millie’s body.
“Nobody I’ve talked to has seen him since Millie’s body was found in the Dumpster. He didn’t even show up in court last week when they dismissed the assault charges against him.” His voice trailed off to a whisper. “But I’m sure you knew about that.”
They hadn’t been able to convict Parker for assault
ing her. She wasn’t surprised, because she’d never gotten a good look at her attacker.
What she was surprised about was the fact that nobody had told her the case had been dismissed. She looked down. Her hand had instinctively gone to her stomach.
She would have been showing by now.
“…I was thinking about heading back out there, canvassing the neighbors again to ask if any of them had seen Parker with a woman matching her description.”
“Sounds good.” She turned to look at the station. “One other thing. Can you check and see who purchased a property for me?” Ashlyn rattled off the address.
“After the canvas or before?”
“Before, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing.”
“And Sims? Call me, okay? I’m just following a hunch.”
“Speaking of hunches…”
“What is it?”
“Well, I called the prison where Hobbs is. He hasn’t had any visitors, except one.”
“Let me guess.”
“Parker tried to get in to see him a month ago, but Hobbs refused. I’m not sure it means anything…After that, Hobbs started sending letters to a Hank Jeffers.”
Who’d apparently gone off the deep end and murdered his wife and children and was out there somewhere.
With Craig.
“I did a few searches, dug a little deeper. Jeffers is wanted for the murder of his wife and children.”
“I know. The manhunt.”
“Thing is, Ash, the eyewitness who fingered Jeffers as the shooter? A vacationing Port Moody police officer who just happened to be in the area.”
Parker. What the hell was going on?
“One other thing, Ashlyn. They did a search of
Hobbs’s prison cell. He’d received letters from Parker. They’re FedExing copies to us.”
She thanked him, hung up the phone and took a shortcut across the grass to the parking lot behind the building. When she’d told Tain she wanted to get some fresh air he’d asked her to pick him up a drink. She hadn’t done that yet, but she did have the car keys.
He’d have to wait for that drink a little longer.
ART
S
IX
T
HE
P
AST
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-FOUR
Eighteen months ago
Ashlyn stepped back inside Nolan’s cabin. “He’s gone.”
“What do you mean he’s gone?” Sullivan asked.
“I mean…” She looked at Nolan and saw his eyes widen. “I think he’s gone out there.”
There was silence for a moment, broken when Sullivan stood.
“Okay. We’re going out there, to question Eddie about Jenny. That’s it,” Sullivan said.
“You mean, we’re going out there to cover Tain’s ass.”
Sullivan turned to Nolan. “When this is over, I’ll deal with Tain myself.”
They drove out to the property in silence. A truck was parked at the main house. “Bobby’s truck,” Sullivan said.
Ashlyn walked up the door and pounded on it. “Mr. Campbell? Mr. Hobbs? It’s the police.” She lowered her hand. No answer.
She looked at Sullivan, who was scanning the property. Dusk was upon them, and she could make out the shape of shadows that she knew were trees, but soon it would be pitch black. “How far do you think it is to the cabins?”
“Tain said he thought about a mile.” Nolan nodded toward a dirty road that cut off through the trees. “That way.”
They returned to Nolan’s Rodeo. He’d argued it would be the best vehicle to use, assuming the terrain was rough, and it was a good choice. They bumped and jostled as he tried to avoid the potholes on the old road.
“Guess once they stopped renting the cabins out, they really let it go,” Sullivan muttered.
Ashlyn sat in the back. For a while, the only sound was the hum of the engine, the occasional spinning of wheels when they failed to find purchase and groan of the axel as the vehicle bounced over the uneven ground.
Her hands were clawing into the seat. Part of her wanted to be the first out so that she could kick Tain’s ass herself, but there was a chill in the back of her neck that she couldn’t shake, and another part of her prayed that whatever powers there might be that controlled the universe would make sure nothing happened to him.
She should have seen it coming. It had been so hard to persuade Tain to wait when she’d told him what she knew. Damn near impossible to convince him that they needed Nolan, at least, before they could check out the property.
It was too big and too risky, and even she had to admit that Sullivan had been right. They had circumstantial evidence, but nothing that would support a warrant to search the premises.
Nolan’s headlights picked up a dark shape, and she leaned forward. “There. Tain’s truck.”
“It isn’t much farther to the cabins,” Nolan said. “About a quarter of a mile. Should I—”
Thwap
. Ashlyn dove down as Nolan said, “Shit!” The headlights went out as he turned hard to the left.
He’d cut the engine and was yelling at her to call for backup. She pulled out her phone.
No signal.
“Do you have a radio?” she asked him.
“In the back,” he barked as he tried to pull Sullivan free from his seat.
Shhhhwap.
Another impact, but with something outside, near them. A tree. Ashlyn jumped over the back seats and started sorting through Nolan’s gear in the back, hands fumbling in the dark, trying to find the radio.
The rectangular box shape felt familiar in her hands. Not exactly standard issue, but usable nonetheless.
“How is he?” she asked as she switched it on.
“Not good,” Craig said as he pulled Sullivan across the driver’s seat and out the door.
Glass cracked and shattered, covering Sullivan’s legs. Nolan didn’t stop pulling, and within seconds he was out of the vehicle.
She wasn’t sure their chances would be much better there, and she felt her hands shake as she fumbled with the buttons and started calling for help.
Tain heard a gunshot in the distance. At a guess, it wasn’t far from where he’d left his car.
Ashlyn. Shit.
After he’d parked the car, he’d gotten out and backtracked on foot, until he thought he’d gone a safe distance. Anyone who had heard the engine would come straight from the cabins.
They might go through the woods, just to give themselves cover, which was why he’d backtracked and circled around. It was more time-consuming, but it gave him a better chance of getting through without meeting up with unwanted company in the middle of the woods.
Go one way and reach the cabins, maybe put an end to this mess of a case once and for all. Go back and there was no telling what would happen.
A second shot was followed by a third. He cast one last glance in the direction of the cabins, cursed under his breath and turned around.
Nolan’s Rodeo.
He saw the flash from behind the Rodeo and heard the shot. To his right there was the sound of returning fire, and he started to make his way through the trees in that direction.
More shots from the Rodeo, and a cry pierced the air. Whoever was shooting from the woods had been hit.
After that, things got quiet for what felt like a long time. He continued inching forward, looking for some visual clue so he could find the shooter hiding in the woods.
It wasn’t until he heard the sirens approaching that a dark shape started running through the trees. He hurried forward and looked to his left, to where he’d first seen the shape move. Another shape, slumped against a tree.
Tain turned on the Maglite he had in his pocket. Eddie Campbell, empty-handed, clutching a gaping wound in his chest.
“Tried…tell…No…body…listen.”
“Shhh. We’re going to get you help, Eddie.” He pulled out his cell phone. No signal.
A flash of light caught him in the eye and he raised his hands. “Constable Tain,” he said.
The officer relaxed his hold on the gun and turned to look at the figure slumped against the tree. “Looks like a through and through. He needs help,” Tain said. “There’s another one who took off through the woods that way. I’m going after him.”
He turned and started to run, barely aware of the voices that said, “Not alone, you aren’t.” Tain wasn’t sure at what moment he realized Nolan and Hart were with
him, but when they reached the edge of the woods and saw the shadow running up the steps into a cabin, the three of them moved instinctively, as though it wasn’t their first time chasing an armed suspect on foot through the forest at night.
As soon as he was sure Nolan and Hart were in position, he ran up the stairs and kicked the door down, ducking just in time to avoid the shotgun blast that put a hole in the wall behind him.
ART
S
EVEN
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-FIVE
In the aftermath of Eddie Campbell’s death and the arrest of Bobby Hobbs, they’d had plenty of time to search the old Campbell property.
In the woods, on the small slip of land that fell on Reserve boundaries, they found the graves. The search had yielded the bodies of five girls from the files. Five girls, ten victims in total.
Craig had spent days scouring the woods with a canine unit, and as his partner, she’d been there through it all. They’d covered every inch of ground.
They’d guessed that Hobbs and Campbell buried bodies when they ran out of room in the freezer, but when they found out that most of the land wasn’t under Reserve protection, they’d gotten nervous. The tiny strip of land that did fall outside town boundaries bordered a steep gorge. They’d run out of room for more graves near the ledge, so they’d started dumping bodies in the woods and Dumpsters to make room for more victims in the freezer.
It was a theory, the best explanation they had. The only explanation. Hobbs had never talked, and part of Ashlyn didn’t really want to know why they did what they did. Motives sometimes read like a criminal’s excuse for unjustifiable acts of horror against other human beings, and there was nothing that could make sense of what Hobbs and Campbell had done.
She remembered one day at the station. They’d been
talking to Summer Young, letting her know about the status of the investigation.
Nolan had apologized. “They’re starting with dental records, and if they can’t identify the bodies that way, they’ll ask you for a blood sample, but it could be some time before we know more.”
He’d slumped down in the chair, looking a thousand miles away, skin pale, dark smudges under his eyes.
Tain was already gone by then. Sullivan’s death had made it impossible for the RCMP to completely forgive his sins, and he’d been put on desk duty pending a full investigation.
Thinking back, she realized it was only a few hours after that conversation that she’d been reassigned. Whatever questions she didn’t have answers for would remain unasked by her. The newspapers continued to speculate, but it all rang hollow, and she stopped reading. Who could grasp why someone would abduct girls, impregnate them, and then murder them and their newborn baby?
A nightmare case complicated by lies, secret agendas and abuse of power. Even Craig had been willing to risk disciplinary action by concealing the whereabouts of his sister when she ran away, a truth Steve had hinted at with his careful answers to her questions.
“What does the file say?”
His way of answering her question without referencing whatever suspicions he had about Craig’s sister should have been a neon warning sign then, but she’d assumed he was being an overprotective big brother.
After all, there were enough arrest records on file to paint Craig’s stepfather—his sister’s biological dad—in a very bad light. During the weeks she and Craig had spent searching the Campbell property Tucker Collins—Craig’s stepfather—had been arrested for assault. It turned out it wasn’t the first time he’d faced charges, and he had a history of hitting members of his family.
A few days later Kaitlin’s file had been updated and closed.
She’d returned home, and despite Ashlyn’s own subtle research, she knew little about what had actually happened to prompt Craig’s sister to run away. Had Kaitlin’s father hit her, or had it been something worse?
Funny that in his own way, Craig had been running for months.