The Promise (25 page)

              “Arch,” Gallagher moved to his side to establish a more personal feeling between them at this key moment in the conversation, “If there’s something you want to tell me, man to man, get it off your chest. You will be glad you did.

I’ve been there. Sometimes the truth is good for the soul. It makes us more of a man, not less of one.”

              Archer Taylor had tears in his eyes. “I destroyed the love of my life. I don’t deserve to live. She’s gone.”

              The detective was beside himself. He knew the next few words could be a difference between solving the case or letting it drag on for months.

Choosing his words carefully he said, “Yes, Arch, she is gone. But, we are trying to bring her back and you can let her know how much you love her by telling the truth right now.

It would mean so much to her if you did. It would show her what a great father you are. And, wherever she is, she is listening to you.

Do you know where she is?”

              Silence.

              As Gallagher sat there waiting for the next words out of Allison’s father’s mouth, there were none.

Seconds passed. They turned into minutes. The two men sat there looking down at the carpet.

Gallagher was counting the number of red specks in each swirly circled area of the rug. He prayed for a sound, any sound. A moan, a grunt, a clearing of Arch’s throat, something but, there was nothing.

Finally, the detective broke the silence, against all his training and experience in law enforcement, he was going mad with the interminable wait of a confessional expectation that was not forthcoming.

              “You came in here today, Arch,”

              The magnate nodded his head. “I did. Now, I’m leaving. I can’t do what I came to do. I am not ready to give up my demons, just yet, Gallagher. But, I will, I surely will. Give me time.”

              Feeling let down, the detective watched helplessly as Archer Taylor walked shakily out of the room wondering if he had just let a murderer off the hook. But, there was nothing he could do.

Without a confession or evidence, the head of Home Buys, Inc. was just another dad who was grieving over a daughter who may never return.

              Gallagher knew that feeling all too well.

Chapter Thirty-
nine--remembering Verna

             
It was standing room only in the chapel at the Colony. The building normally held about 250 people, but the crowd easily doubled that number. The school put chairs on the lawn outside and set up audio speakers for those not fortunate to get inside.

One of those numbered outsiders included Detective Michael Gallagher of the Athens police department. He settled in his lawn chair and used the occasion to check out anyone who looked suspicious or out of place. He also did his best to forget another funeral of a young girl he had memorialized only too sadly.

              Inside, the mourners were primarily high school students and friends and family of Verna Oden. Her family, brought back a second time to remember their loved one, were naturally the most devastated in attendance.

Verna’s mother, of whom the daughter got her pleasantly warm looks from, was ashen and tear-stained. She looked like she had been crying since she lost her other child only a week earlier. As unfair as it was for a parent to lose a child, it was more than doubly cruel to lose two in eight days.

Her husband, Verna’s stepfather, was stoic and stared straight ahead for most of the service, only occasionally turning to comfort his wife when he was most needed to perform that sympathetic gesture.

              When it came time for Elie to speak, she carefully mounted the three steps to the stage and took a moment to lay out her notes and emotionally collect herself.

It was a strange moment for her.

Yes, she was fond of Verna, but, she was still upset at the way her roommate had verbally attacked her and if she had not run when she did, maybe it would have been her funeral instead of Verna Oden’s.

As her mind processed her conflicting emotions she spoke clearly and graciously about a girl she wanted to remember in a positive and friendly way.

              “Hello. My name is Bree Kelly. I was Verna’s roommate. For the short time we were together, we had an incredible friendship. We went to Maggie Moo’s and flirted with boys. We walked around the campus and talked about everyone and who we liked and who we didn’t like which was difficult, because Verna liked everyone!”

Laughter and knowing smiles responded to this statement.

“And, at night we sometimes did our homework, sometimes didn’t and I had a chance to hear about Verna’s hopes and dreams.” At that point, the undercover agent couldn’t finish her sentence. Death was the enemy to her since she was nine years old and it was reaching up and grabbing her soul once again.

She just stood there, mutely, wishing she was anywhere but where she was at that singular moment. Somehow, she managed another sentence as sounds of people choking up in front of her increased,

              “Verna’s hopes and dreams, which included going to Paris, was all she could think and talk about. Being able to represent her school and attending the American University in…

That was it. Elie was done. There was no way she could continue. Her heart was ready to explode.

How do you explain to a room full of strangers the end of a young person’s life?

It was something that Elie couldn’t explain to anyone, much less herself, so she took a deep breath through her tears and simply said,

“Tell Verna tonight you love her. She’ll hear you and smile.”

              With that, Elie stepped quickly down the steps and out the side door. Running to an isolated patch of grass, she dropped to the ground and cursed the life she still possessed.

Once again, the feelings of abandonment from a father she loved had come back to remind her that life was not only unfair, it was an unending and relentless punishment that rarely emanated relief.

Had death came to her at that moment, she would have welcomed it with open arms.

Chapter
Forty---A suspicious Griever

             
Gallagher squirmed restlessly in his seat. Although the sun was beating down hard on him, he had something else on his mind. Something was happening in the audience around him. As he heard his partner emotionally melt down, he thought for a moment about comforting her.

But, instead, his eye was focused on one of the mourners who had been acting strangely during the service. He carefully watched the suspicious character without being noticed in return. The man, who appeared to be in his late thirties, was sitting one row ahead of him and one chair over.

What caught the detective’s eye initially were the designs the man was drawing on the back of the memorial card handed out to all those in attendance.

              For some reason, the fellow had changed the words of,
A Tribute to Verna Oden
, to:

ATTRIBUTED to Verna Oden: A life that deserved more than a MURDER! Revenge is mine saith Woden. The final battle is Ragnorak. At that point, the evil one will die forever. And, kill no more. My one righteous eye will hold the bow straight for the final spear of Grungir which will find its mark to the murderous heart and break it eternally.

              Gallagher was feverishly writing to copy everything down accurately over the man’s shoulder without being noticed.

By the time he had finished writing the last phrase and looked up, the man had left his seat. Looking back behind the crowd, the detective saw the griever get into a red Mercedes and drive quickly away before the detective could pursue him.

He did have a chance to write down the license number, and politely waited until the service was over and then slipped out unnoticed as the crowd gathered around the family members for support.

He called in to the dispatcher at the station and related his need for a trace on the license plate. “Yeah, Sam, I need you to give me a name for the registration of license plate, YGG145. Call me back as soon as you get it. Thanks.”

              At that point, he saw his partner walking slowly towards him. Elie was not moving at her usual confident pace. She seemed to be swerving from side to side.

Gallagher went up to her and caught her just as she collapsed in his arms. “Are you okay, Elie?”

She didn’t speak for a moment, then she mumbled, “Water.” The detective pulled out his unopened bottle of water and handed it to her.

He held on to her as she gulped several mouthfuls. “That’s enough,” he cautioned. “Sit down over here in the shade. Just relax.”

              Elie took a deep breath and smiled at Gallagher, “Remind me not to speak at any more funerals.

In fact, remind me not to attend any more funerals, they’re too much for me.” The detective nodded, “Death does not become me, either.”

              Elie looked quizzically at him, “Death doesn’t become you? So, why are you a homicide detective, then?”

              Gallagher thought about it for a moment, “Therapy. It’s my way of making death logical and useful by helping those who have lost their loved ones feel better. Makes me feel better, I guess.”

              “So, how do you feel about the Allison Taylor case right now?” Elie laughed.

              “Right now I feel like crap, because people keep dying. My therapy can’t keep up with all these passing’s.”

              “You know what you need, Mr. homicide detective?”

              “What’s that partner?”
 

             
“You need a resurrection!”

              “Yeah, it worked for Jesus. But, what I really need right now is a cold drink. And, I also need a name that goes with a license plate of a guy who was sitting in front of me at the funeral.”

              He showed Elie his notes from the strange man sitting in front of him and told her about the car he drove off in.

              “Mike, this seems to fit in with our investigation,”

              Gallagher’s phone went off. He answered and Elie watched his face light up with excitement, “Yeah? Right, a red Mercedes. The owner is?” The detective started to write with his pen and suddenly stopped.

”What? Are you sure?”

              Elie saw the expression on her partner’s disbelieving face and waited for him to get off the phone.

              Gallagher hung up and looked right at her, “Resurrection, huh? Well, guess who may have just risen from the dead, your headmaster from hell.

Elie gasped, “Oden?”

Her partner nodded somberly.

              “That’s impossible!” Elie exclaimed.

              “Of course it is,” agreed Gallagher. “It’s probably just a matter of mistaken identity.”

              “But, if it’s not?”

              “If it’s not, we have deeper problems than just finding Allison Taylor. We may have a serial killer on our hands.”

Chapter Forty-one--Profile

             
Chief Parker and Gallagher sat in the conference room waiting for the profiler to arrive. The detective was not happy.

“I realize the FBI has to be called in because of the kidnapping possibility, but, we don’t know if this is a kidnapping or a sex crime or both. We may be wasting her time.”

              “That’s why it’s important to discuss this with an expert on either scenario, Michael. Here she comes now…”

              Melinda Grady, the FBI specialist, stepped into the room. It was apparent she was a very attractive woman. She stood five feet eight inches tall, slender, with dark brown hair and piercing green eyes. She appeared to be in her early thirties.

She greeted the two men warmly, “Hello, I am special agent Mel Grady. It is nice to meet you.” She extended her hand to each of the men.

              Chief Parker was impressed, “It is my pleasure, ma’am. We have a baffling case here and it is always nice to get someone else’s perspective, especially when that person is a lovely lady.”

Gallagher rolled his eyes.

              “Well, thank you for the kind words, Chief Parker. I hope I can be of some service. It is a tragedy for a family when a daughter goes missing.”

              Gallagher got right down to business, “Here’s what we know. Allison Taylor, eighteen years of age and the sole heir to the Home Buy’s fortune. She is beautiful, responsible, intelligent and loves her dad and, ”

              “Detective Gallagher, I read all the information that you sent me. We have already done a thorough profile on the kind of person who may have taken Miss Taylor, if she indeed, was taken by someone. I do not mean to interrupt, but would you like to hear what we have for you, sir?”

              Chief Parker stifled a laugh. Gallagher just looked at her, “Sure, lay it on me Ms. Grady.”

              The elegant agent began her summary, “Okay, the kind of person that kidnaps eighteen year old girls is generally a male and is generally the same race as the victim, with rare exceptions.

It is usually a stranger, not someone she knows. He is around 27-29 years of age, but he could be older.

The victim generally presents him with an opportunity of some kind. Something that will benefit him and she may have put herself in a position to be abducted, i.e. wrong place at the wrong time, her car breaks down, they pass each other in a dark parking area.

He is probably involved in pornography. This fuels his fantasy. His method of taking her would be more along the lines of guile or subterfuge rather than brute force.”

              Gallagher looked over at the Chief. “Guile works for me. There is no way he could have taken Allison Taylor by brute force with so many people around. But, I have a question at this point, how would a stranger get her into a car with everyone standing there? Especially, since she was such a smart girl?”

              Grady retorted, “She may have been a smart girl academically, but not necessarily street smart.

As another sign of this kind of predator, he has past criminal offenses. He knows the ins and outs of human nature. He is someone who understands how to get people to believe him.”

              Gallagher was not convinced. “I just don’t understand how some guy could talk Allison Taylor into a car that quickly.”

              The FBI profiler further explained, “Detective Gallagher, do you remember the Oprah show when they had a professional con man convince teenage girls to leave the mall and come with him to his van on the premise he was a photographer who could make them famous as a model?

Do you have any idea how many girls went with him willingly and quickly to that parking lot and allowed him to not only get them in his car but to close the door behind them?”

              Chief Parker nodded. “I remember that show, it was chilling.”

              Gallagher spoke up, “I have to concede there are gullible girls out there who can be coaxed, but in that case, the con man had time in the mall to pitch his case.

But, this car seemed to drive up and snatch her on an open street in a matter of seconds. No previous discussion. No sales pitch. You’re telling me it was one stranger to another, and Allison is gone?

How does someone fitting your profile accomplish that, special agent Grady? Tell me.”

              The FBI specialist paused as she thought through his question, “Well, detective, there are a number of possible scenarios here.

First of all, he could have been stalking her. He could have seen her on campus that day and timed his arrival in the car to meet her as she was preparing to cross the street.

He could have asked her for directions and when she leaned in, he could have grabbed her wrist and pulled a gun on her, telling her to keep quiet with all the people around and forcing her into the car.

Or, she could have told him she liked his car, he could have been really good-looking and on a whim, they both decide to go for a drink.”

Gallagher rolled his eyes again.

“Another scenario would be that he did have previous discussions with her and when he pulled up, he introduced himself to her and got her into the car on one of several premises.”

              Gallagher remained cynical, “Such as?”

              “It could be anything as far-fetched as him being a car salesman who had met her on the lot and had promised to drive one of his models over to the campus.

Or, he could have told her he was a priest, a pastor, a college dean of students, a television producer, the head of a model agency, a government official, a police officer, an insurance salesman, a friend of her father’s, a representative of the sorority she was pledging, anyone who would either make her feel safe, fill a need of hers or play to her ego.”

              “I suppose some of those identities would work.” Gallagher begrudgingly conceded.

              Grady pursed her lips firmly, “He just has to convince to enter the car within a few seconds. Do you have any scenarios, Detective Gallagher?”