The Devil's Closet (25 page)

In the meantime, after Michael went back to Virginia, I bought a massive, brand-new home a block away from the old one, which Eric decided to keep. Michael kept telling me not to buy it, that it was entirely too big. Money wasn’t an issue; I had more than enough. I took the book deal, which included a very handsome advance, to write a book about the case. And when Eric and I split, we sold our jointly owned stocks and I got half the proceeds. In my mind, the house was not too big. I just wanted plenty of room for all three children, including Sean, to romp around.

Our divorce finalized, we had agreed to share custody, with each of us keeping the girls three to four days a week. It’s a fairly loose arrangement that’s been working out very well. All of us have adapted nicely. The girls eventually learned Jordan was pregnant, something Eric and I told them together. They were actually excited and looking forward to having a baby brother. Eric and Jordan had found out the sex a week earlier. Jordan moved in with Eric.

I took things a little slower with Michael. His transfer came in for Cleveland, and he kept an apartment there.

He usually stayed there the days I had the girls and was able to visit with his son, Sean. On the days I was alone, Michael stayed with me and commuted. About twice a month, we would get the girls and Sean together. They all got along well, and Sean took to me surprisingly quickly, as did I to him.

I was off work for only seven weeks, and the sheriff appointed me acting captain until Naomi returned. That was about four months ago. To everybody’s relief, she was as good as new. In fact, she was doing so well, she and Coop exchanged vows. I had graciously accepted Naomi’s invitation to be her maid of honor, and Coop asked Michael to be his best man.

The ceremony took place at her parents’ house, a very large and beautiful home on Pleasant Hill Lake. They had an arched bridge going out to a private dock that was covered with a gazebo. This was where they exchanged their vows. They were lucky; it was early spring and the weather turned out warm and sunny. What a lovely way to start a new life.

I spent most of the day helping Naomi get ready. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Her dress was a light tan formal with spaghetti straps, accented by her blonde hair cascading down onto her shoulders. I told her Coop might fall off the bridge into the water when he saw how incredible she looked.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself, CeeCee. Michael may push us off the side and force you to marry him right then and there.”

I wore a formal peach-colored strapless gown that clung to my body. It set off my deep tan. (Michael had kept his promise and took me on a dream vacation to Jamaica.) My hair was pulled up with loose strands framing my face.

Standing outside and waiting for the music to begin, I saw that most of the department was there, Eric and Jordan included. I couldn’t see Michael or Coop yet, since I was behind a fence that blocked the gazebo. Michael and I were the only members of the wedding party and the ceremony was a civil one, so it wouldn’t take too long.

When the music began, I grabbed my bouquet of flowers for my walk down the aisle, Naomi and her father behind me. When I first looked into the gazebo and saw Michael, it took my breath away. He was wearing his black tuxedo and looked stunning. Coop looked good, too, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Michael.

He had the same look on his face when he saw me and I think we both had the same thoughts. And I’d been right about one thing. Coop almost fell over when he saw Naomi walk down the aisle. Michael and I could not stop looking at each other throughout the entire ceremony.

All in all, it was a perfect day for Naomi and Coop, and I was thrilled. Toward the end of the evening, I had walked away from everyone and was standing on the dock looking at the full moon shining on the water. I had only been there for a few minutes when I felt Michael put his arms around my waist.

“I was looking for you, gorgeous. What are you doing down here?”

“Thinking.”

“May I ask about what?”

“Yes, you may. I was just thinking about how the name CeeCee Hagerman sounds. I’m not sure, what do you think?”

“Do you mean that, CeeCee? You’ll marry me?” he said quietly.

“I do.”

He pulled me into a kiss that would win awards. When we stopped we just looked at each other.

“Michael, you realize, don’t you, that a life with me is never a boring one?”

He laughed and picked me up off the ground. “That it isn’t, Sergeant. That it isn’t.”

The inspiration for the book is a man or monster (take your pick), that I investigated for child pornography after the case was passed along to me by the FBI. Unfortunately, the case became much more than that. As a parent and human being, it's frightening for me to realize that a man such as this, a man I'll call the Doll Man, has been functioning in our society for the fifty-plus years of his life.

Take a minute and look out your window across the street to your neighbor's house: the quiet, private neighbor with the well-manicured lawn who has been in the neighborhood for over twenty-five years. Most consider him harmless, right? I'm sure the Doll Man's neighbors were just as naïve until I found his personal chamber of horrors. Little did the parents know that on the days their small children were playing outside in the sprinkler, the kids were being photographed by a dark shadow that loomed in the attic of a house down the street. In reality, to comprehend another human being as sadistic and ill as the Doll Man is sometimes too much for the average citizen to bear.

Only a few significant scenes and characteristics of
The Devil's Closet
are actual accounts of situations I encountered during the investigation. The scene when CeeCee describes the contents of the closet, I can assure you, is true. The fictional killer's modified doll, as disturbing as it seems, is also true. I couldn't help incorporating the Doll Man's utter hatred for me into the fictional killer's feelings of CeeCee. The numerous death threats made during the investigation led me to believe that the Doll Man knew that I saw him for what he was. Of course, like CeeCee does in the novel, I took his favorite doll, which further infuriated him. He didn't fixate on the FBI agents, the other detectives, or anyone else—only me. Of course, these threats ultimately added several months to his sentence. He was convicted of child pornography and aggravated menacing. Frightening is the fact that this man is now out among us again, with no supervision or sex-offender label. He's out to do what he pleases.

If you wonder how this is possible, understand it is not a crime in the state of Ohio (or any state I'm aware of) to pretend that a harem of dolls are little girls. To sexually molest life-sized dolls while pretending they're little girls is quite legal. Disturbing, isn't it? But the question remains: Where does it end? There was no concrete evidence that this man had ever touched or harmed a child, and the investigation was not authorized to go forward. Like most writers, my imagination went into overdrive at that point. What is he doing? What
has
he done in the past? What
will
he do in the future? How long will he be satisfied with only dolls? My concerns fell on deaf ears.

Some of you may remember the case of Amy Mihaljevic, the ten-year-old girl abducted from a Cleveland suburb and brutally murdered in 1989. Her killer was never found, and although there has been much speculation from the experts, no arrest has been made. Chillingly, her body was found in a cornfield less than fifteen miles from the Doll Man's house. Coincidence? Could be, but, again, there's always the possibility. This is a possibility I have considered since the day I opened his closet doors.

It's an unsettling story, one I felt could be told through CeeCee and her coworkers. Although CeeCee's family and friends strongly resemble my own, they are not my family and friends. With such a disconcerting subject, I added more of CeeCee's ongoing romance with Michael to lighten it a bit. The reality of it is that marriages in law enforcement make Hollywood marriages look like those in the Bible belt. Sad, but true.

Every time we turn the news on it seems that another child has been abducted or, worse, murdered. The unfortunate reality is that there are many child predators, like the fictional killer in
The Devil's Closet
, who exist in society without our knowledge. They could be your quiet neighbor next door, the retired fellow who bags your groceries, or even your child's Little League coach. Be diligent and aware.

I hope you'll walk away from
The Devil's Closet
with not only an enjoyable read, but also a clear message. The message isn't that you should spend your life looking over your shoulder.

But the next time you're walking with your child at the park on a warm summer day, you may want to hold his or her hand just a little tighter. I know I will.

October 2008

Published by

Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
200 Madison Avenue
New York, NY 10016

Copyright © 2008 by Stacy Dittrich

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E-ISBN: 978-1-4285-0554-4

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