Touching Evil (22 page)

“How did he find you?”  It was the first time Cam had spoken, and the sound of his voice had Klaussen shrinking a little.  

“I don’t know.”  She crossed her arms and dropped heavily on the sofa.  “Maybe through my old boss.  I’d used him as a reference when I got a new job at a convenience store.  But once he showed up again…it all started over.  Except now he wasn’t just mean.  Prison had made Mase vicious.”

Slowly, painstakingly, Sophia drew out the rest of the story.   After a few days spent ‘getting re-acquainted’ at her apartment, Vance had driven her to the house in Alleman where she’d spent most of the time chained in the basement.  She denied that she’d been left alone for long period of times, although she admitted there’d be weeks at a time when he’d be at the gym all afternoon, then leave again at night. The only time she’d been freed was to drive him somewhere.  Occasionally to fetch food and bring it back to him.

This was offered in a hushed voice that told Sophia better than words that Vance had quickly regained dominance over the woman.  By that time, no psychological fencing had been needed.

After a half an hour Sophia still had questions, but sensed the other woman was close to her limit.  She opened the purse on her lap and searched inside it.  “Have you been getting any help with all this, Rhonda?”  She lifted her gaze to see the puzzlement on the other woman’s face.  “Emotionally, I mean.  Recovering from a long-term ordeal can take awhile.  It’s easier with help.”  It took effort not to look in Cam’s direction.  Sometimes help came in the shape of therapy.  And other times comfort.  It was going to take far more than a strong pair of arms, however, to help Rhonda Klaussen work through the shame, guilt and emotional imprisonment that had resulted from her trauma.

“There’s a church down the street.”  Klaussen pushed her long hair over her shoulders and looked a little embarrassed.  “Not that I’m a churchy type, but the pastor’s wife has been by a couple times.  Brought me lunch.”  A note of wonder entered her voice.  “Even said she was trying to get a benefit together for me, pairing with a bigger church in Boone.  She said I could use the money to get on my feet again.”  

She shook her head.  “I don’t know why she’d bother doing something like that for a person like me, but even if she don’t follow through with it, it’s a pretty nice thought.  Guess I forgot there were people like that left in the world.  People who help just because.”

Empathy softening her voice, Sophia said, “That is kind of her.  And you’re more deserving of kindness than you believe.”  Having found what she was searching for in her purse, she handed it to the woman.  Saw her frown as she looked down at the business card.  “The names on that card are therapists in the area who deal with overcoming trauma.  All of them work on a sliding fee scale, so you can pick one you feel comfortable with.  You won’t have to pay anything until you can afford it.”

“A head doctor?”  But the words were less caustic than when she’d uttered them earlier.  “Yeah.  Well…maybe.”  She stood and tucked the card in her tight jeans.  Then looked at Cam.  “Do I get to ask a question now?”

He nodded, a bit guardedly Sophia thought.

Klaussen frowned.  “You showed me a sketch that day in the jail.  Asked me if I’d seen that man before.  If he’d ever been in Vance’s house.  I hadn’t.  But the pastor’s wife I was telling you about—her name is Tami—she gave me a coupon for a free meal at a restaurant here in town.  Had breakfast there this morning.  And I saw that same sketch on TV on the news.  They said police were looking for him.”  Her gaze was direct.  “Why are you looking for him?  Is he a friend of Mase’s?”

Obviously choosing his words carefully, Cam answered, “We don’t know.  That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

The woman swayed a little.  “Would he…”  She moistened her lips before going on.  “Do you think Mase would send him after me?”  She included Sophia in the question, a note of panic sounding in her voice.  “Can he find out where I am?”

Sophia let Cam field the questions, mentally damning herself for not thinking of it before.  Courtney Van Wheton’s hospital room had a uniformed policeman at the door at all times.  Sophia herself was in DCI protective custody.  But the woman who Vance had allegedly abused for years—and lived to tell about it—was a sitting duck.  Vulnerable.  The guilt fueled by the realization was brutal.

“As you said, you’re visible in a small town.”  Cam’s voice was matter-of-fact, but oddly reassuring.  “The sheriff’s department is keeping a close eye on your place.  Before this guy ever got near you or your house he’d be picked up.”  

Klaussen seemed only partially mollified, but she gave a jerky nod before walking to the front door again.  

“Do you have a cell phone?”

In answer to Sophia’s query she pointed to an item next to the lamp on the table.  “Victims’ Services gave me one.  It only calls 911, but that’s all I need, right?”

“That and the deputies who will be keeping an eye on you.”  She squeezed the taller woman’s hand comfortingly.  “You have nothing to worry about.  Except for planning the rest of your life now that you’re free.”

A measure of tension eased from the woman’s face.  “Yeah, I’m free.  Still sort of hard to grasp.  Sometimes I just sit on the couch for hours before I realize I can get up if I want.  Go outside.  Go for a walk.”  Her gaze went past them to the tiny front yard.  Beyond.  “Maybe I’ll do that.  Later.”

“It sounds like a start.”

Sophia allowed Cam to usher her from the house to the vehicle.  But once he pulled away from the house she refused to let him leave town before she found the church Rhonda had mentioned.  And then elicited a promise from Tami to go check on the other woman once they left.

Once he was finally allowed to leave the town he slanted her a glance.  “I would have liked to have heard more about the times Vance left her alone for days at a time before he went to prison.”

“Me, too,” she admitted, leaning forward to set her purse on the floor by her feet.  “But I pushed as far as I dared this first time.  She’s been through hell—twice.  She deserves some kid glove handling.”

He was silent for a moment, and she watched the corn and bean fields flash by the window.  The plants seemed a bit taller than they had a few days ago when she and Van Wheton had escaped from the barn Vance had imprisoned them in.  But the crops were still far too short to offer shelter for someone on the run from a madman.  And again she was reminded of Klaussen’s exposure.

“So you believe her then.”

It took a moment for Sophia to follow his meaning.  “Believe Klaussen’s story? Certainly the psychological damage she described rang true. If she’s not a woman who’s experienced terrible abuse, her talents are wasted outside of Hollywood.  More importantly, I have no reason to disbelieve her.”  

She shifted as far as she comfortably could in her seat to face him.  “While we were hunting for Vance I suspected there could be a team of killers.  We know our UNSUB is an accomplice.  More, Klaussen bears the burns and from what she described, she could well have been Vance’s first victim.  The one he practiced his fantasies on.  So yes, I believe her.  Don’t you?”

“She’s clearly been victimized.”  There was little traffic on the county road.  He flew by a pickup parked in a field where a few kids were picking up rock.  “I’m just saying that she wouldn’t be the first victim who helped in the enactment of a crime because of psychological or physical force from her captor.”

He was edging into territory that provided ample room for argument.  “In the cases you describe, the women were still victims.”  Sophia had lent expert testimony at trials similar to the ones he was suggesting.  In her estimation, a jury should never underestimate the extent of long-term emotional trauma and its effect on behavior.  

“Were you honest with her back there?  Is she being offered protection, or is the law enforcement attention simply to make sure she doesn’t take off before Vance can be brought to trial?”

He slowed for a stop sign to let a lone SUV pass.  Accelerated again.  “Does it matter?  The result is the same.  Call it hedging our bets.  Beckett—that’s Boone County Sheriff Beckett Maxwell—was instrumental in our investigation into Vance.  I trust him to keep an eye on Klaussen and to keep her safe from harm.  It’s a…”

“…win-win.”  She was familiar with his customary phrase.  Broodingly, Sophia watched the rolling fields of green crops until they started to give way to strip malls and convenience stores.  Maybe he was right.  Perhaps it didn’t matter at this point whether he found Klaussen entirely credible as long as the woman was kept safe.   Sophia’s concern might be better spent on the women in the morgue who were past protection.  The others who still may be waiting, cold and silenced in a watery grave.

Klaussen’s experience was beyond horrifying and the emotional damage it had inflicted would take years to recover from.  But she, like Courtney Van Wheton and Sophia, had a huge advantage over Vance’s other victims.

All of them had survived.

*  *  *  *

His house was filled with static.  Sonny could no longer quiet the noise by ignoring it or journaling about it.  The jumble of sound had leaked into his head.  Filled his brain.  Until the noise was so strong he couldn’t hear himself think.  

Dropping the marker, he backed away from his journal and snatched up pillows to clap over his ears.  But that only trapped the noise, it didn’t muffle it.  

Mommy’s voice was an insistent buzz threading through the rest of the racket.  He had pills in the medicine cupboard that could silence her voice for long periods of time.  But the pills made him sleepy.  Left him feeling drugged up and dopey.  He only took one when he had to keep his mind clear and razor sharp.  Even so, they slowed his reflexes.  And they didn’t stop him from seeing her.  Standing in the doorway, or sitting at the table.  Sometimes he saw all of her.  Other times it was just her face floating by, the eyes bugged and the blue lips open.

With or without the pills her voice always came back, inserting itself into his skull with needle-like precision.  The medicine was little defense against her.  It was his own fault, he knew, because he hadn’t buried her body when he’d killed her.  But what had he known?  He’d just been a kid.

Escaping out the kitchen door to the porch had the inner noise quieting somewhat.  He blinked in the weakening sunlight.  It was easier to think here.  Easier to pluck out the single thread running through his brain and make sense of it.

You can’t stay here
.  Mommy’s voice rang clear as a bell against the muted interior din.  
You’re not safe.
 
You can’t stay here.
 

Relief filled him.  Of course.  Sonny laughed out loud, uncaring that the sound made the girl walking her dog on the sidewalk hurry past the house.  Mommy was right.  His photo had been on TV.  And although he looked different now, he needed to get away.  He needed time to plan.

He needed quiet.  The kind of quiet he’d had in Lucy Benally’s house.  Where he’d been safe and the silence had soothed the racket in his head to a dull murmur.

Sonny braced himself and then went back inside.  He had to gather the things he’d need because he wasn’t ever coming back.  Some clothes and toiletries.  His laptop.  The equipment he used to move through the night unseen.  To get in and out of places unsuspected.   He still had some time, he knew.  His name hadn’t been on TV, only a sketch.  He had time to gather what he wanted and place it in the trunk of old lady Moxley’s car.   

The plan of action soothed the noise the way nothing else could.  Soon.  Soon he’d go for Lucy.

She’d help him find the quiet.

Chapter 11

Cam and Sophie arrived at the river in time to see a soil-stained lifeless body lying on a sheet beside the open grave.  It was, he thought, as he helped Sophie down the rocky ridge, a macabre sight that was becoming all too familiar.  Franks saw them coming and approached.  

“You want the good news or the bad news?”

“There’s good news for a change?”  He looked toward the cluster of people surrounding the body.  “Let’s hear it.”

“This victim was wearing some sort of bracelet with writing on it.  Maybe when it gets cleaned up it’ll point us in a new direction.”  

That was a big if, but at this point in the investigation Cam would take it.  “Give me the rest.”

Tommy had taken off his suit coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.  His tie was nowhere in sight.  Cam didn’t blame him.  The day had been warm and standing outside most of the afternoon would have been punishing.  “The bad news is the dive team is ready to call it a day soon.  They’re getting into deeper water and it’s churning up pretty good.  Makes for poor visibility.”

Cam squinted into the distance.  He could the see the skiffs on the water.  Make out a tall lanky form a couple hundred yards away on the shore.  A dog in a boat barked excitedly.

“Okay.  Maybe there’s nothing there to be found.”

“You ready for worse news?”

Cam arrowed a look at the older man.  “Sort of buried the headline, huh?”

Franks’ smile was grim.  “Dig crew thinks there’s another body directly below the one they just took out.”

“Fuck.”  Frustration roiled inside him at a seething boil.  He placed his balled up fists on his hips.  “When does the hell does this end?”  He barely felt Sophie’s hand on his arm.

“It ends here.  Vance is in jail.  His accomplice is on the run.  This is just closure for their victims.”

His jaw clenched.  He saw something else in Tommy’s expression.  “Don’t tell me.  There’s a ‘worser’?

The other agent mopped the perspiration from the back of his neck with his palm, then wiped it on his pant leg.  From the looks of his pants, it was an action that had been repeated frequently throughout the day.  “Just that the media you must have passed on your way in showed up forty-five minutes ago and it’s just a matter of time…”

Cam got the message.  Pulling out his cell he put in a call to the Dallas County sheriff.  After a terse conversation, they agreed the sheriff’s office and DNR would supply additional manpower keep gawkers away.  Some of the officers would be in boats.  Then he moved several feet away to call Gonzalez, steeling himself for her reaction.  It wasn’t long coming.