Fatal Forensic Investigation, page 17
Jace caught Scarlet’s expression. Her terror-stricken eyes confirmed her fear.
“That’s because he knows we’re close to identifying him.” Jace whisked dust from his uniform pants.
“You think this was CLS?” Taylor asked.
“Who else would it be? Of all the active cases we’re working, this is the only one that screams desperation.” While Jace knew other suspects could have committed this act, he believed in his gut it was CLS. Who else would be so brazen?
Scarlet removed an elastic from her pocket and rolled her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck. “When can we go back inside?”
The firefighter raised his hands. “You need to be checked out by paramedics first and the rooms aired out before I let anyone back in.”
She turned to Jace. “I need to sketch. I was getting close. At least have someone grab my belongings. I can go to your place and do the work from there.”
Was that really the reason, or was Scarlet wanting to distance herself from him? Something had happened back in that room, causing her to withdraw.
Had more memories returned? Did she remember their shaky relationship?
“I’ll go get her things.” The firefighter put his mask on and entered the building.
Jace’s cell phone buzzed, and he checked the screen. “Gotta take this.” He turned to Taylor. “Can you take Scarlet to my place and ensure it’s locked up tight? Then keep watch. I’ll be there shortly.”
Jace walked away and hit Answer on his phone. “Constable Allen here.”
“It’s Colonel Maurier from the army. I understand you’re inquiring about a roadside bombing from ten years ago.”
“Yes. I believe a Kevin Vale was killed. Was he ever identified?”
Keyboard clicking sounded through the phone. “Just checking. My memory isn’t what it used to be.” A pause. “Ah, yes. I remember now. Explosion took out most of the team, including Kevin. A couple of others were severely injured. Wait.” Another pause. “That’s odd. The file only includes a coroner’s report. The rest is redacted and sealed. Why do you ask?”
Jace curbed a huff as thunder thrashed his temples. “It coincides with a case I’m working on. Can you send me a copy of the report?” He stopped. The idea of a department leak crept through his body. “And please keep this inquiry between us. I can’t explain why, but this needs the utmost discretion.” He gave his email address.
“Understood. I’ll get on it right away.” Maurier hung up.
A tremor crept up Jace’s back. Was Kevin Vale alive and the Coastline Strangler? If so, what was his secret identity? Jace glanced around. It could be anyone they knew. Anyone close to them.
* * *
Scarlet sat at Jace’s dining room table overlooking his massive property and cliffs in the distance. Charlie played with his trucks in the backyard, racing them across the lawn while Marcy relaxed in an Adirondack chair, reading. The serenity of the scene washed over Scarlet after such a horrific event earlier. Her memory of the way she’d treated Jace in college shamed her, and she couldn’t look him in the eye. She recalled how she’d suspected his crush, but she wasn’t willing to date an arrogant, flirty football player, even though she was attracted to him, so she’d retreated from their shaky friendship. Could he forgive her for judging him back then? He’d changed into an amazing man.
The paramedics had checked her over and suggested she go to the hospital, but she’d refused. She was tired of hospitals, plus she needed to work on her age progression sketch. Identifying CLS was the task she was assigned to do, and she prided herself in her work. She knew that now.
The horror of the latest attack had brought her memories back until the point of Lila’s interview and the identification of her killer. Why hadn’t those last scenes also returned? Everything else had come back, including her feelings toward Jace in college, her angst over her mother’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis, all her forensic skills, her fractured faith in God and, most importantly...
The secret she withheld from everyone.
The rape Brandon Snow had inflicted on her when she tried to break up with him after she’d discovered his secret identity—his wife and kids. Scarlet’s boss was right...she had changed after that incident, but had never shared it with anyone. Not even Olive, her sister and best friend. Shame prevented her from divulging her pain.
It was also the night her faith in God’s protection had wavered. How could He have allowed such a thing to happen?
Scarlet tugged a strand of hair as heat traveled up her neck. The anger from the rape returned like it happened yesterday and not two years ago. She almost wished the memory had stayed hidden. Scarlet hated the person she’d turned into after that night. The terror had changed her. Molded her into something she despised.
But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.
Scarlet slumped her shoulders as the verse she’d memorized returned. Had God allowed her amnesia to wipe the anger from her mind? To reshape and sculpt her into His image? Her personality had been restored these past few days after being suppressed for two years. Scarlet did not want to return to being that bitter person without joy.
Never again.
She hung her head.
Lord, forgive my bitterness. Forgive my anger toward You. I’m sorry. Mold me into the person You want me to be. I give my life back to You. Use it for Your glory, not mine. Bring back the memory of CLS’s face so we can save more women from his destruction. Thank You for showing me You again. I love You.
Her restored identity washed over her as tears spilled down her cheeks and splatted on the table. Not tears of shame, but tears of renewal. Scarlet Wells had returned from the abyss.
And now she had a job to do.
She wiped her tears and swiped her tablet screen, bringing it to life.
CLS’s young face stared back at her. She zoomed in on his eyes and studied her sketch of the killer’s eyes.
They were the same, but different. Older.
Scarlet knew most faces aged in expected ways, and she would use that knowledge to sketch an older version of Kevin Vale. She researched his mother first and also reviewed her face closely. Old-school was her preferred method of forensic artistry, so Scarlet took out tracing paper from her bag and placed it over the picture on her tablet, then transferred it to a new page in her sketchbook.
Over time, eyes and their lids grow, widening. She erased portions of the eyes, then adjusted and aged them. After lengthening the lower part of the face, she expanded the lips over the teeth and barrel of the mouth. She drew the nose outward to show the normal growth as an adult and shaded around it. She thickened the eyebrows and added a modern hairstyle to the head.
Twenty minutes later, the front door opened and closed.
“Scarlet?” Jace yelled.
She set down her pencil and stood, bracing herself to face the man she cared for deeply. Would he ever forgive her earlier reaction? “In the dining room.”
Approaching footsteps pounded on the tile.
Jace entered the room. “How’s the sketch going?”
Scarlet held up her drawing. “Coming along. What did the military say about the bombing?”
“Case was redacted and sealed. He didn’t know why, but he was able to get the coroner’s report for me. I’ve sent it along to Dr. Drew and Dr. Parker. I want their opinions.” Jace walked into the kitchen and returned seconds later with a bottle of water.
“Anything can happen. I remember once—”
She stopped, realizing her mistake. It wasn’t the way she wanted to tell him her news.
He whirled around. “You have your memory back?”
She gestured to the chairs. “Take a seat. I need to talk to you.”
His face blanched before he sat.
What worried him? Her returning memories?
She sat and reached for his hands. “I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to react the way I did. I remember everything until Lila’s interview. Not sure why that’s still blocked.”
He yanked his hands away. “So you recall how I treated you in college?”
She chewed her lip. “I remember how we treated each other. Jace, it’s a two-way street. You’re not that person any longer and neither am I. I’ve done so many things wrong in my life. Things I wish I could change.”
He ran his thumb along her chin. “You’re different since the fire this morning.”
“I am. I’ve realized why God allowed these circumstances in my life to happen. He used my amnesia to cleanse me. Renew the old Scarlet and shape her into a stronger woman.”
“I’m so glad.” He paused. “I’ve missed our friendship, even though we fought most of the time.”
She chuckled. “Let’s not waste time on the past, okay?”
“Agreed. Let’s start something new.”
What did he mean by that? Something as in friendship—or more? She stared into his beautiful eyes. Oh, how she longed for more with him. He was the type of man she had prayed for all her life.
If only she could trust him with her secret.
She turned to look at her sketch, breaking their moment.
Time to get back to work. She wouldn’t let her failed relationship impede identifying a killer.
“Scarlet, what is it you’re not telling me?”
She swung her gaze back to his. “I can’t—”
Pounding footsteps interrupted her words. Marcy flew into the room, out of breath. “Help! I can’t find him!”
Jace bounded out of his chair. “Marcy, slow down. Where’s Charlie?”
She crumbled to the floor. “He’s gone.”
“What?” An expression flashed across Jace’s contorted face.
One she’d never seen on the man.
His son’s disappearance haunted his mind.
Lord, help us find Charlie!
SEVENTEEN
Jace suppressed his anger at Charlie’s abduction and brought his son’s nanny to her feet. “We’ll find him, Marcy.” At least, he prayed it would happen. Fears from his kidnapping overpowered him and increased the pounding in his head. God, please make it so. Don’t take my son from me!
“It’s all my fault,” she sobbed, her legs buckling.
Scarlet guided Marcy to a chair. “Tell us what happened.”
Jace squared his shoulders, determination setting in, and he raised his index finger. “Just a sec. I need to get my team here to help scour the property.” He quickly called Heller and requested backup, telling him to send Taylor from her cruiser out front to check the property, then clicked off. “Okay, go ahead.”
Marcy hiccuped, her sobs increasing.
Scarlet rubbed the nanny’s back. “Take a few long breaths and then walk us through it. I’ll get some water.” She ran to the fridge and brought a bottle to Marcy.
Good thing Scarlet’s calm demeanor had kicked into gear, because Jace struggled to hold in his panicked state. Had this been what his parents went through when they’d discovered he was taken? His galloping pulse and weakened limbs proved the unbelievable terror they must have suffered. He gripped the chair’s back to steady himself and waited for Marcy’s sobs to lessen.
“He...he was playing with his trucks, and my cell phone rang.” Marcy took a sip of water before continuing. “It was the call I’d been waiting for—news on my mother’s cancer—and I didn’t want him to hear me, so I walked to the cliff and answered. My back was to him.”
“Wait, you turned your back on my son when there’s a killer targeting him?” Jace failed to keep the anger from his tone.
Marcy buried her face in her hands and once again sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”
Scarlet squeezed his shoulder. “Not helping.” She set a chair in front of Marcy and brought her into an embrace. “Shh...you had no way of knowing someone was watching. Perhaps he just wandered off.”
His shoulders curled forward as remorse over his harsh words filled him. Scarlet was right. They didn’t know for sure. He squatted in front of his beloved nanny. “I’m so sorry, Marcy. I shouldn’t have said that. Can you forgive me?”
She lifted her gaze. “I know what happened to you at Charlie’s age. I understand your anger.”
Scarlet’s knitted forehead silently questioned Marcy’s statement.
He had to ignore it for now. “Tell me what happened next.”
“When I finished the call—it was only a couple of minutes—I turned and he was gone. I searched all over the backyard and into the front but couldn’t find him. Anywhere. Then I came here.”
Jace’s radio crackled.
“Allen, it’s Lewis.”
Jace pressed the button. “Go ahead.”
“Couple things. So far, nothing from bartenders in the area. Also, the fire chief found a body in the mother’s home. Appears to be Mrs. Brampton.” He paused. “Sorry to hear about Charlie. Heller and I are here to help Taylor conduct the search of your property.”
Jace stood. “Thanks for the update. We’ll check the house in case Charlie came back inside using a different entrance.”
He disconnected as doubt filled his mind. His gut told him his son was nowhere in the house.
Marcy stumbled into a standing position. “I’m going to help, too.”
Jace realized trying to persuade the frantic woman would be useless. Plus, the more help, the better.
The group conducted a thorough search—inside and out—and fifteen minutes later, Heller, Lewis, Taylor, Marcy and Scarlet gathered around Jace’s surveillance monitors. He fast-forwarded through the footage.
“Stop!” Scarlet pointed. “There.”
A masked man appeared, holding a limp Charlie in his grip. He skulked by the camera and looked back, staring at the lens as if taunting Jace. Then he crawled through a cut portion of the chain-link fence.
Jace slammed his hand down, immediately regretting his action, but the truth was evident.
His son had been taken.
He dropped his head and sobbed, years of pent-up fears taking over. Jace’s panic room and high-tech security measures had failed him.
Jace was aware of the stats on abductions. He had failed his son, and now the sweet boy would pay the price.
“We’ll find him.” Scarlet squeezed his shoulder.
Lewis cleared his throat. “Let’s get an Amber alert out immediately.”
Jace popped his head up and wiped his tears, resolution girding his jaw. It was vital they act fast. The first forty-eight hours were the most important. “Yes. Lewis, you take care of that. Marcy, can you tell him exactly what Charlie was wearing?”
She nodded. They moved to the side, whispering as she gave a description.
“Heller, we need to conduct a town-wide search. Can you get a party together? Bring in all the constables. Get a chopper in the air. Expenses don’t matter. I’ll cover everything. Get the media involved. I’m putting you in charge.”
The constable nodded and left the room.
“What are you going to do?” Scarlet asked.
“I’m the parent. I need to stay here.” As hard as it was, he recognized his best course of action was to excuse himself as the lead investigator. He was too emotionally attached and wouldn’t make the right decisions.
Scarlet latched onto him. “I can help Heller search.”
“No. You need to finish your sketch. It’s important to identify CLS quickly. It will help find my son.”
“What about me?” Taylor asked. “Do you want me to have a constable stationed in your laneway?”
Did he still trust in his own abilities to protect Scarlet? He required all officers out there looking for his son. Could he choose between Charlie and Scarlet? He moved his gaze to her.
“Jace, I’ll be fine.” She patted the Smith & Wesson at her side. “You need the help in finding Charlie.”
He turned to Taylor. “Grab the constables on foot patrol and search the beaches close to my property.”
She nodded and ran from the room.
“I’m going to make some Earl Grey.” Marcy left the equipment room.
Jace plunked himself in the chair and buried his head in his hands, all energy draining from his body. Tears threatened, but he kept them at bay.
Scarlet sat beside him and brought him into an embrace. “I’m sorry, Jace. Your officers are excellent at what they do.”
“I feel so helpless.”
“I understand. That’s how I felt when I realized I couldn’t remember CLS’s face.” She rubbed his back. “God will provide.”
He retreated from her embrace and held both of her hands in his. “Can you pray?” His mind was too bogged down to put two sentences together, let alone a prayer.
She nodded and bowed her head. “Lord, we need Your powerful hand of protection. Wherever Charlie is, keep him safe. Wrap Your arms around him so he won’t be scared. Put Your special touch on all the officers searching. Lead them directly to Charlie. Please be with Jace right now. Keep him safe under Your protective wings. Give him strength. We pray all these things in Your precious name, amen.”
Jace squeezed her hands. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here. Thank you.”
“Tell me what Marcy meant by what happened to you at Charlie’s age.”
He let out an elongated sigh. “I’ve only shared this with Marcy. Not exactly sure why. Shame, maybe.” He paused. “I was abducted at five years old.”
“What?”
“My mom had just taken me to the school bus, and a few minutes later, my abductors pulled us over. They boarded the bus and only took me. My parents were targeted for their wealth.” His heart rate accelerated as memories propelled him back into the past. “Even though I was only five, I remember it like it was yesterday.”
