Mindfield (Sideways Eight Book 1) (17 page)

Chapter 20

No Quarter

Lorton, VA – Faraday Farms

Saturday, 14 May – 3:16 PM

Eighteen days had passed since the discovery of Olivia Ingram’s body. The killer continued to elude law enforcement. Desperate to target a suspect, both local and federal authorities worked together, interviewing, rerunning tests, and using software composite programs to analyze every piece of known data.

The task force investigated merchants who sold helium. Medical supply companies provided invoices, detailing who purchased oxygen masks and plastic tubing. Local pharmacies cross-listed insulin purchases and turned the information over to the authorities.

The community stepped in to offer assistance. The county public school system surrendered a list of employees.

Law enforcement’s vigilance paid off with huge rewards. The investigation flushed out three unknown pedophiles, which lead to their capture and arrest. Crime reduced as awareness increased. No child walked home from the bus or school without adult supervision.

Investigators reviewed the records of arrests, prosecutions, and rap sheets, from convicted criminals released within the last three years. After several extensive interrogations, none was suspect.

Seated in her home office, Charley sipped bottled water while staring at the photographs of Robin and Olivia. She flipped through the images on the monitor, hunting for any minor detail that would click. Charley overlaid the crime scene photos of the two girls to identify differences. Everything appeared the same, the candles, the green flannel blanket, and the flowers. The only distinctions between the two girls, Olivia had a small pillow under her head instead of leaves and the color and style of the dresses. The killer thought ahead after realizing he had left one discomfort for Robin.

Head bowed, elbows resting on the arms of the office chair, Charley closed her eyes and massaged her temples. Flashes from the crime scenes slid effortless in her mind, every detail exposed and brought forward. “Something is there.”

Reclined in her chair, Charley ran her fingers through her hair. She sighed long and hard, staring at the images of the girls lying on the green blankets.

Interrupted by a flashing emergency message on the monitor, Charley rose from the chair as her hands covered her mouth. “No.” A mooing cow ringtone removed her attention from the screen.

“Hey, Sean.”

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

His voice low and solemn, he said, “On my way.”

With a tap, she disconnected their call. Charley stood and rubbed her face. “Natalie.”

A half an hour later, the office door swung open. With his head tilted to one side, Murphy’s hands gripped his hips as his voice wavered. “I didn’t want to see you today under these circumstances. I guess us riding my new Harley this evening will have to wait.”

“Yes.” She managed a faint smile. “You driving?”

“Yes.”

Herndon, VA - Lawson’s Bowling Alley - 5:01 PM

Law enforcement crowded the bowling alley, securing the scene as the crime response team set up to gather physical evidence.

Charley and Murphy entered the premises, in mid-step she stopped and evaluated. Cameras were visible throughout the building. Confident the investigators had requested the feeds, Charley turned her attention to the rest of the bowling alley. The arcade was on the left where Natalie Norman had asked to play video games. Charley tugged on Murphy’s sleeve, a silent suggestion they should head in that direction.

“A fingerprint nightmare,” Murphy said.

“Smudges, dirt, grease, they won’t find much.” She spotted Doobie and signaled to him.

Doobie approached them, grim and worn. “I’m ready, drill me FBI lady.”

Charley smiled. “I’m so predictable. Cameras?”

Doobie shook his head. “The owner verified the security cams haven’t been operational in over a year.”

“Did anyone see Natalie in the arcade?” Murphy said.

“None of the kids from the party were there.”

Charley’s tablet vibrated, indicating a message. She slipped her tablet from the lower pocket of her cargo pants.

“No,” Doobie said.

“Natalie was never there,” Murphy said. “Where was she, if she wasn’t with the other kids who were bowling?”

“One of her classmates saw her in the restroom.”

“Did Natalie ask any of her friends to join her in the arcade?” Murphy said.

“No, she didn’t. The chaperones told us she didn’t like to bowl, so she asked to play video games.” Doobie wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Natalie told them she brought a roll of quarters.”

“She came here prepared to use the arcade, instead of bowling,” Charley said.

Doobie laid his hand on his chest. “My opinion, she went to the restroom first. He was there, coaxed her, convincing her to leave with him.”

“Doobie, that makes little sense.” Murphy leaned towards him. “He’s male. If he was in the ladies room, she would have run out screaming.”

“Who said he was dressed as a man?”

“Is there evidence of a struggle?”

“Yes, and no, we aren’t sure.”

“Explain.”

“The restroom was… messy. Paper towels and water were all over the floor. In a public restroom that isn’t unusual. A girl, Natalie’s age, who wasn’t a party guest remembered Natalie entering the restroom. There were no paper towels on the floor when the girl left.”

“Was anyone else in the restroom, maybe in the stalls?” Murphy said.

“The little girl we interviewed wasn’t sure.”

“What measures were taken when Natalie went missing? Were the doors locked?” Charley said.

Doobie gazed at the arcade. “No, it was a virtual clusterfuck.”

“Great, that doesn’t help.” Murphy sighed

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Sean and I will check around.”

“We’ll take all the help we can get. We have a serial on our hands.” Doobie held up three fingers. “This one makes it official, three.”

She tugged on Murphy’s elbow. “C’mon, let’s do what we do best.”

Charley reviewed incoming data on her tablet. Murphy slid behind her and read over her shoulder.

An eleven-year-old, African American from Herndon, Natalie Norman attended Bear Creek Elementary School. The daughter of Allen and Teresa Norman, high school teachers, he taught history while Teresa, the mother, was a biology instructor.

A tall, slim child, Natalie had dark hair and eyes. She wore denim shorts, a red t-shirt, and red Converse high-tops. Her hair was in a ponytail pulled through the gap of a black Chicago Bull’s snapback hat. She enjoyed gymnastics, basketball, and read an average of three books a week. Natalie excelled in all her classes.

Last seen at Lawson’s Bowling Alley while attending the birthday party of a friend, she asked for permission to play video games in the arcade. When the time came for ice cream and cake, her friends searched for her, but could not find her.

Everyone at the bowling alley scoured inside and around the exterior of the business. The assistant manager called her parents and the police.

They faced the alley lanes, studying the surroundings.

“The arcade is to the left, about twenty feet from the party at lanes one and two,” Charley said.

“The restrooms are on the other side of the building, through the hall, to the exit doors. Forensics is in there, we need to stay back and let them do their job.”

Charley designated each location. “Natalie walked by the arcade, the counter, the grill, the sports shop to the restrooms and no one noticed her? Are people freaking blind?”

“How could anyone miss her? Her clothes were unique, not like a little girl. How many little girls wear a Chicago Bulls cap?”

“That reminds me.”

“What?”

Charley shook her head. “Nothing. Thinking aloud. Let’s go outside.”

They advanced to the rear of the building, inspected the exit doors and vents, finding no sign or disturbances. A narrow grassy lot, extended from the back of the facility to a dense tree line. Charley stepped in front of Murphy, tapped him on the shoulder, and motioned towards the trees.

As they approached the grove, she placed her arm in front of him to halt him from moving further.

Charley pointed towards a brush. “There?”

“A break in the overgrowth. Someone ran through here. Check for broken branches and disturbed leaves.”

Charley bobbed her head and stared at him. “Oh, my, gee whiz, I didn’t know that.” She laughed.

“Sorry.” He grinned.

Within the grove, damaged leaves and branches indicated a fresh cut beeline, showing something or someone had tussled through the foliage.

“Whoever went through here ran. Their clothes grabbed branches and stripped a few leaves,” Charley said.

“You’re right.”

A glint, about fifteen feet away, caught Charley’s eye. She directed her hand. “Over there.”

Murphy moved towards the shiny object.

They squatted and Murphy brushed back the overgrowth finding a broken roll of quarters. Charley removed her pen and inspected the paper. On the top edge were the initials ‘NN’. Charley shook her head, clicking her mouth. “Natalie’s I’ll bet. Sean, will you count them while I ask for forensics?”

“Sure.” Murphy removed a pen from his pocket to sort through the coins as he counted them while Charley called Doobie.

“Forty,” Murphy said.

“Ten dollar roll,” Charley said. “They’re all there.”

“Natalie wasn’t in the arcade and didn’t leave the restroom alone. How did this person take her from the bowling alley with no one noticing?”

Noises came from behind them. Charley and Murphy stood and turned, seeing Doobie and Fleming.

“He brought her through here. We found her quarters.” Charley pointed at the rolled coins on the ground. “Wish she had dropped them one at a time.”

Murphy directed his thumb over his shoulder. “What’s behind these trees?”

“A baseball field and park,” Doobie said as Fleming gathered the quarters and marked them into evidence.

“He convinced her to leave with him,” Charley said.

Murphy tightened his mouth. “I don’t agree, Charley. A stranger asks a child to run through the woods to go swing? That farfetched.”

“I understand your point. The girls are connected, and the connection is him. They don’t fear him. It’s out there. Sometimes, out there is right here, under our noses. Leave nothing unturned, everything matters, everything. Either they know the killer or they respect the killer’s position or explanation.”

“We need to talk with Mrs. Ingram again. There’s something we’re missing.” Murphy stepped aside for Fleming to leave the area.

Doubt teemed in Murphy’s eyes. Restless and tense, Charley dug her phone from her pocket and called Mrs. Ingram to ask to speak to her about Olivia. Her voice faint, Ms. Ingram agreed.

“Sean, we need to go to the Ingram home.” She slipped the cell in her pocket.

“Shouldn’t we speak to Natalie’s parents first?”

“Yes, you’re right. I’m getting ahead of myself.” She turned to Doobie. “Where is Natalie’s parents?”

“In the alley cafe.”

∞ ∞ ∞

Charley and Murphy approached Natalie’s parents. Mr. Norman prayed while his wife held his wrist and her head on his shoulder.

“Mr. and Mrs. Norman?” Charley said.

The Normans offered their attention. “Yes?”

“We’re FBI, Charley Faraday, and Sean Murphy. May we speak with you?” Murphy scooted a chair away from the table for Charley.

A handsome man with a trimmed beard, Allen Norman’s sparkling eyes overflowed with tears. His lips quivered. “Yes.” He choked as he gripped his wife’s hand.

Charley sat as Murphy shifted a chair next to her.

Teresa’s swollen red eyes followed them. “Will you find our little girl?”

“We will try,” Murphy said.

Charley placed the voice recorder on the table. “Do you object to us recording this conversation for clarity?”

Allen voice caught. “We don’t mind.”

Charley folded her hands on the table. “Tell us about your daughter.”

“Natalie’s an excellent student. She wants to be in the Olympics. Don’t they all?” Allen attempted to swallow his emotions. “She loves to read, any genre, it doesn’t matter. Natalie’s active in our church. It’s next door.”

“Basketball, she loves it.” Teresa’s smile trembled as she sniffed hard and deep.

“Is she leery of strangers?” Murphy said.

“Yes, we’ve drilled that into her head since she was a toddler,” Teresa said. “She wouldn’t willingly leave with a stranger. Not without kicking and screaming.”

“It’s possible this person isn’t a stranger.”

“Natalie is untrusting.” Allen pointed at them. “I’ll tell you why.” Tears flowed from his eyes faster than his hand could wipe them away. “We’re from Baltimore, and our niece, my brother’s little girl, was kidnapped, beaten and raped by a bunch of gang bangers. Some kinda initiation. That wasn’t enough, so they slit her throat. Natalie and Priscilla were born months apart. They were like sisters. My daughter knows the dangers and the reason we left four years ago.”