The Guardian (47 page)

An hour later, with pages still coming through the fax machine from Boston regarding Jessica's disappearance, Jennifer sat at her desk, readying herself for the call she knew she had to make. After she'd dialed, a female voice picked up on the other end."Hello?"

"Is this Elaine Marshall?"

"Yes? Who's this?"

"This is Officer Jennifer Romanello. I'm calling from the Swansboro Police Department."

"Swansboro?"

"It's a small town in North Carolina," Jennifer said. "I was wondering if you had a moment to talk."

"I don't know anyone in North Carolina."

"I'm calling about your sister, Jessica," she said.

There was a long silence on the other end.

"Have you found her?" The voice was weak, as if expecting the worst.

"I'm sorry, but no, we haven't. But I was wondering if there's anything you could tell me about Robert Bonham."

At the sound of his name, Jennifer heard Elaine Marshall draw a sharp breath.

"Why?"

"Because right now, we're looking for him."

"Because of Jessica?"

Jennifer wondered how much to say. "No," she finally said. "He's wanted in connection with something else."

There was another long pause.

"He killed someone, didn't he?" Elaine Marshall said automatically. "In Swansboro."

Jennifer hesitated. "Is there anything you can tell me about him?"

"He's insane," she said. Her words were clipped, as if she were doing her best to stay in control. "Everyone was afraid of him, including Jessica. He's violent and dangerous . . . and he's smart. Jessica tried to get away from him once. He used to beat her. She went to the supermarket one night for groceries and we never saw her again. Everyone knew he did it, but they never found her."

Elaine Marshall began to cry. "Oh, God . . . it's been so hard. . . . You can't imagine what it's like not to know . . . I mean, not to be certain . . . I know she's gone, but still, there's like a tiny spark that you hold on to. . . . You try to move on, but then something happens that makes it all real again. . . ."

Jennifer listened to the sobbing on the other end. "What was he like in the beginning of their relationship?" she asked gently, after a moment.

"Why does that matter? He did whatever you think he did. He's evil. . . ."

"Please," Jennifer said. "We just want to catch him."

"And you think this'll help? It won't. We've been looking for him for years. We hired private investigators, we made sure the police stayed on the case. . . ." Elaine Marshall trailed off.

"He's here," Jennifer said. "And we want to make sure he doesn't get away. Now please. Can you tell me what was he like?"

Elaine Marshall drew a deep breath, struggling to find the right words.

"Oh, just like you'd expect-it's an old story, isn't it." She couldn't hide the sadness in her tone. "He was charming and handsome and pursued Jessica until she fell head over heels for him. He seemed nice at first, and we all liked him. They eloped after dating for six months, and after they were married, things changed. He got real possessive, and he didn't like it when Jessica called us. Pretty soon, she rarely left the house, but on the few occasions we did manage to see her, we saw bruises. Of course, we tried to talk some sense into her, but it took a long time before she listened to us."

"When you say that Jessica ran away once . . ."

"She finally accepted that she had to. For a couple of days, he acted as if nothing happened. He tried to get us to tell him where she went, but of course none of us would tell him anything. We knew what was going on by then. She went to Kansas City, a place where she could start over, but he hunted her down. I have no idea how he did it, but he found her and brought her back. And she stayed with him for a couple of weeks. I can't explain it, other than to say that he had this sort of power over her when they were together. I mean, her eyes were dead when you talked to her-like she knew she could never get away-but my mom and I went over to their house and finally dragged her out of there. She moved back in with our parents, and she was trying to get her life back together. She even seemed to be doing better after a while. And then one night, she went to the supermarket and we never saw her again."

After hanging up, Jennifer sat at the desk, thinking about the phone call, the words still ringing in her ears.

He hunted her down.

Mabel got out of bed and showered. Despite her exhaustion, her worry about Mike and Julie had kept her from sleeping well. She had to talk to them in person, so they knew how serious this actually was. She grabbed her car keys and had headed out the door before she remembered what Julie had said in the salon right before she and Mike got in Emma's car.What if he follows us?

Mabel froze in her driveway. What if Richard planned to follow her to the beach? What if he was watching now?

The street was clear in either direction, but Mabel wasn't so sure.

Nor was she willing to take the chance.

She turned around and headed back inside.

After sorting through the information on Robert Bonham and making a few more calls-including a second call to Elaine Marshall-Jennifer condensed the information into a couple of pages. She talked to Pete about what she wanted to do, then together they went in to see Morrison.He looked up as Jennifer slid the pages toward him and took a moment to peruse them. When he finished, he met her eyes.

"You're sure about all this?"

"Pretty sure. We still have some calls to make, but we've verified everything that you see."

Morrison leaned back in his chair. He sat quietly for a moment, trying to absorb the seriousness of the situation.

"What do you want to do?"

Jennifer cleared her throat. "Until we find him, I think it's best if Pete stays out at the beach house with Mike and Julie. I don't see that we have another choice. If what we learned is true, you know what he's capable of doing, and what he's likely to do next."

Morrison fixed her with a steady gaze. "Do you think they'll agree to something like this?"

"Yes," Jennifer said. "I'm sure of it. Once they know what they're up against, I mean."

"Are you going to call them?"

"No. I think it would be best if we talked to Julie in person."

Morrison nodded. "If she agrees, I'll authorize it."

A few minutes later, Jennifer and Pete got in the car.

Neither one of them noticed the stolen Trans Am when it pulled into traffic behind them.

His name is Robert Bonham," Jennifer began. "The real Richard Franklin has been missing for three years.""I don't understand," Julie said.

They were in the kitchen of Henry's beach house. Mike and Julie sat at the table; Pete, firmly settling into the position of the silent cop, leaned against the counter.

Mike reached for Julie's hand and squeezed it.

Jennifer knew she had to start at the beginning, since neither Mike nor Julie knew anything about the investigation. Going step by step would keep the questions to a minimum; it would also allow her to explain the gravity of the situation.

"How is that possible?" Mike asked.

"The real Richard Franklin wasn't married, and aside from his mother-who passed away in a nursing home last year-there was no one to notice if his Social Security number was back in use. And because he was considered missing-not deceased-there was nothing to raise any alarms."

Mike stared at her. "You think Robert Bonham killed him." It was more a statement than a question.

Jennifer paused. "Based on everything else we've learned about him? Yes, it seems likely."

"Jesus . . ."

Julie looked out the window, suddenly numb. On the beach, she saw an elderly couple stop in front of the house. The man bent over and picked up a seashell, then put it in a plastic pail before moving on.

"So who's Robert Bonham?" she asked. "And how do you know that's his real name?"

"We know his name from the serial numbers in the cameras. He'd registered them years ago. It was the only link to his past, but once we knew his name and where he was from, we were able to learn the rest fairly easily." Jennifer glanced at her notes. "He was raised outside Boston as an only child. His father was an alcoholic who worked at a chemical plant, his mother was a homemaker. There was more than one allegation of abuse in the home-the police had investigated half a dozen incidents over the years-until his father passed away." After explaining the circumstances behind his father's death, Jennifer tapped the file. "I talked to one of the officers in that case. He's retired now, but he remembered it well. He said that nobody believed Vernon Bonham had committed suicide, but because they couldn't prove anything-and knew Vernon wasn't exactly the model husband and father-they let it go. But he suspected the kid had closed the garage door and turned the engine back on after Vernon had passed out."

As she listened, Julie felt her stomach doing flip-flops. "And the mother?" she whispered.

"Died of a drug overdose less than a year later. Again, it was ruled a suicide."

Jennifer let the unspoken accusation hang for a moment before she went on.

"He spent the next few years in foster care, moving from one home to the next, never staying in one place too long. His juvenile records are sealed, so we can't say what else he may have done in his teens, but in college, he was suspected in the assault and battery of his former roommate. The roommate had accused him of stealing money, and Robert denied it. A few months later, the roommate was beaten with a golf club after leaving his girlfriend's place, and spent three weeks in the hospital. Though he accused Robert Bonham of it, there wasn't enough evidence to arrest him. A year later, Robert graduated with a degree in engineering."

"They let him stay in school?" Mike asked.

"I'm not sure they had a choice, since nothing ever went to trial." She paused. "After that, there's no record for a few years. Either he moved to another state, or stayed out of trouble, we don't know yet. The next bit of information we have comes from 1994, when he married Jessica."

"What happened to her?" Mike asked hesitantly, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"Jessica's been missing since 1998," Jennifer said. "She was living with her parents, and the last time anyone saw her was at the supermarket. A witness remembered seeing Robert Bonham's car in the parking lot that night, but no one saw what happened to her. He vanished the same night she did."

"You mean he killed her," Mike said.

"That's what her family and the police in Boston believe," Jennifer said.

Mike and Julie leaned back in their seats, both of them pale with shock. The air seemed thick and stifling.

"I talked to Jessica's sister," Jennifer went on slowly, "and that's part of the reason we're here. She told me that Jessica tried to run away once. She went halfway across the country, but somehow Robert tracked her down. Actually she used the word hunted."

She paused, letting the word sink in. "I don't know if you're aware of it, but Robert Bonham-Richard-quit his job a month ago. In his house, we found pictures of you. Hundreds of pictures. From what we can tell, he's been watching you pretty much around the clock since you first started dating. And he's also been checking up on your past."

"What do you mean?" Julie asked raggedly.

"The week he said he was with his dying mother, he went to Daytona. He went there to learn more about you. A private investigator was checking into your history-we talked to your mother about it. It seems pretty clear that he's been stalking you all along."

Like a hunter, Julie thought, her throat constricting.

"Why me?" she finally asked. "Why did he choose me?" The words came out plaintively, like those of a child on the verge of tears.

"I don't know with any certainty," Jennifer said. "But let me show you what else we found."

More? What now?

From the file, Jennifer slid a photo across the table, the one she'd found on the bedstand. Mike and Julie looked at it, then slowly raised their eyes again.

"Uncanny, isn't it? This is Jessica. Here-I wanted you to see this, too."

Though it made her feel as if bugs were crawling over her skin, Julie glanced at the photo again, and this time she saw what Jennifer was pointing to.

Hanging from the young woman's neck was the locket that Richard . . . Robert, whoever . . . had given Julie. She heard herself whisper her name.

"Jessica Bonham," she said, "J.B."

Behind her, Julie heard Mike inhale sharply.

"I know this is hard," Jennifer went on, "but there's another reason we wanted to talk to you. Because of Andrea and what we believe happened with Jessica-as well as the real Richard Franklin-we'd like to have Officer Gandy stay with you two for a few days."

"Here at the house?" Mike asked.

"If that's okay."

Julie's eyes were almost glassy as Mike glanced toward Pete. "Yeah," he said, "I think that's a good idea."

Pete went out to the car and was retrieving the suitcase he'd packed when he saw Jennifer scanning the homes along the beach."Is it always so quiet down here?"