Come Take Me, page 6
It worked. His stride faltered, and he looked over his shoulder. That was enough. When he looked back, his foot caught in a drainage gully by the curbside. It twisted, and he nearly sprawled down.
The guard was now making up the distance, and as Caitlin watched, the guard lunged forward and grabbed him. With a cry, the slim man turned and began fighting him off, showing surprising strength. His fist battered the guard's shoulder and the man staggered, losing his footing.
At that moment, Caitlin rushed up. She lunged for the man, grabbing his arm as hard as she could and jerking him away so that he was now the one to stumble back with a cry.
The guard regained his footing and grabbed the man's other arm. And for a moment they all stood, gasping for breath, as Caitlin got the handcuffs off her belt.
Then, as Nathan ran up to join them, the metallic click sounded and the suspect was finally in their custody.
"Who is this guy?" Caitlin asked the guard breathlessly. "What's the situation here?"
The guard was a stocky, muscular man wearing the railway company's jacket, with a close-cropped head of dark hair and a small beard. Breathing hard, he replied.
"He's been lurking around the station for a couple of days now. He’s one of the people I noticed before and when I saw him again, I decided to stop him and he ran." He glanced at Caitlin. “I’m grateful for your help, ma’am. I thought he was going to get away for a minute there.”
"We need to question him. Any suspicious character who's around this station at the moment is a suspect in the murders."
The thin man gasped, struggling against his handcuffs.
"I'm not a murderer! I was - I was just looking to take a shortcut to get into town," he said.
"We'll find out exactly what you were doing when we question you at the police station," Nathan said firmly.
The suspect lapsed into an angry silence. Together, they walked back the way they had come. While they walked, Caitlin asked some questions to get a picture of the way the security operated here.
"Do you exchange a lot of information with the other guards? Are you all well briefed on these crimes?"
"Yes, since we all work for the same company it's easy to do that," he said. "We're all in radio and phone contact. I know that the guys have been saying that the police were checking up on our whereabouts. I was asked where I was, this morning and yesterday morning, and they cleared me.” He glanced up. “If my call went through, there should be a police car arriving at the station now to pick this guy up."
Sure enough, as Caitlin looked, she saw a police van pulling up outside the station.
"Let's get this guy in there," she said. "We'll follow you."
Heading over to their car, with Nathan in the passenger seat, Caitlin prepared to follow this van to the local police station. She felt hopeful. This was a known lurker and he’d been returning to the station. He could have been planning to scope out another victim.
She also felt relieved that the local police were busy checking alibis of all station staff, while they pursued their leads. The police seemed to be doing a thorough job and she hoped that soon, all the security staff would either be cleared, or brought in for questioning. However, Caitlin wasn’t one to leave an opportunity unexplored. She decided she was also going to check the guard’s alibi, and that way, she could make sure the police were being thorough.
The police station was just a few blocks away from the train station, but in the opposite direction from where the man had been running. It was a functional, low, and square building that seemed to have been constructed as an afterthought, rather than in the same Spanish style of surrounding architecture. They pulled up outside and headed in.
First stop was the suspect, who was already being processed at the front desk. The guard had found ID in the jacket they'd removed when they searched him before putting him in the car.
"Matt Himes? That's you?" he asked.
The suspect nodded angrily.
"Yes, that's me. And I want a lawyer."
"You'll get one when we're all settled into the interview room," Caitlin said. "We have a few questions for you between here and there."
She turned to the cop.
“Please check his backpack very carefully. I want you to search for any compartments, any contraband, any phones. Please let me know if you find any of that,” she said in a low voice, and he nodded in response.
Caitlin felt sure that they would find something in there. She had a feeling about it, something to do with how tight and close he’d held that bag.
Looking resentful, Matt trudged down the corridor, guided by the security guard and held by the officer at the front desk. The guard veered into the interview room with the familiarity of experience.
"He's all yours," he said.
"I need you to wait a minute," Caitlin asked, wanting to speak to this man first so that he could get back to his work. The interview room door closed, leaving the two of them standing in the corridor.
"How long have you been with this company?" she asked.
"Six months. I moved over from another company when they were bought out," he said. “There were a lot of staff changes. Some people left, some transferred.”
"Where were you working yesterday and this morning?"
"Yesterday I was off, and this morning I worked here, at the station, from six a.m. In fact, I came in earlier because the guard I replaced was heading into Albuquerque for a dentist's appointment, so he actually took the train at six."
"Notice anything unusual?"
He looked crestfallen. "I wish I had. I blame myself. People are saying that this victim got taken from the station? I can't believe she was grabbed from the station while I was here. I try my best to look out for any trouble, listen out for any shouts."
"You saw and heard nothing?"
"It's a big place and it's not easy to be everywhere at once. When my shift starts, I usually do a full check of the area, making sure all the fences are secure and none of the outbuildings have been broken into. So that's what I was doing, patrolling along the platform and on the outside of the station itself. We've now had orders that from today, the passengers' safety comes first and we must prioritize that over any perimeter checks. But it makes things difficult because if the fences are tampered with, security will be compromised. It’s a juggling act."
Caitlin appreciated he couldn't be everywhere at once.
"Yesterday morning, where were you?"
“The police already asked me that,” he explained, looking anxious.
“I’m just confirming as I haven’t had a chance to speak to them,” she said.
"I took my kids to school yesterday to give my wife a break. They go to the local elementary school. I was up at five-thirty getting them ready. I do have messages on my phone between my wife and me, confirming I'd take them. We organized it when I was at work the day before."
He showed Caitlin the messages, before continuing. "The school's twenty minutes from where we live, and I dropped them there at seven and went into the school for a coffee at the kiosk. I saw a couple of the other parents, and one of the teachers, and spoke to them, and the school does have a camera at the gate, if you need to check that," he said.
"Please give me the details," Caitlin said, and waited while he wrote them down. Then she nodded. Although she'd double-check the story, it sounded authentic enough that she was satisfied to let him go back to work. She was also confident the police were doing a good job.
Now, it was time to question this suspect - a known lurker, who'd run when security saw him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Immediately as she opened the interview room door, Caitlin locked eyes with the suspect, whose name was Matt Himes. According to his ID, he was twenty-five years old, and he lived in a town about twenty miles away, called Walkerson.
Now that he was sitting in a chair and she could take stock of him, she noticed he was definitely strong enough to have carried those victims. And he'd been lurking around.
In contrast to his broad shoulders, his face was lean and foxlike with dark, watchful eyes that narrowed as she gazed at him. Nobody spoke. Caitlin stood by the door with Nathan, and let the silence stretch out, waiting for him to fill it.
"I didn't do it," Matt Himes said eventually.
"Didn't do what?" Caitlin asked, sitting down opposite him and glancing briefly at Nathan.
"Didn't do whatever you think I did. I'm innocent!"
"Why did you run away from the security guard if you're so innocent?" Nathan asked.
"I know the rules of the railroad and I know it's trespassing to be on any part of the tracks or in the station when the trains are running. I saw a guard and I didn't want to get into trouble. I took a shortcut, that's all! I wanted to walk around the station to get to the road to get into town. I wasn't doing anything wrong."
"You have been lurking around the station previously, according to the guard who saw you," Caitlin said.
"Me? No, not me. Must have been someone else," he said, but his gaze slid away; she knew he was lying and didn't even care if his tell showed. After all, without camera proof, they had nothing concrete that they could pin on him. In court, it would be a case of he said, she said.
"Where were you earlier this morning? Are you aware a murder was committed near the station?"
His eyes flew wider at that. "Murder? I was nowhere near the station."
"Can you account for your time?"
"What do you mean? You want me to prove where I was?"
"Yes."
"I don't remember."
His gaze darted sideways again, causing Caitlin to feel frustrated. He was clearly lying. He'd clearly been up to some kind of trouble. But they needed more from him and these delaying tactics and stalling techniques weren’t helping.
At that moment there was a tap on the door and Caitlin jumped up, glad of the distraction. It was one of the cops who'd processed Himes. Caitlin stepped out and closed the door.
"Agent Dare, we've checked that backpack that this suspect was carrying," he said in a low voice.
"Did you find anything?" Caitlin asked, hoping this might prove to be a breakthrough.
"Yes. We found a hidden compartment in the bag, stitched into the lining with a concealed zipper. It has several different kinds of drugs hidden inside. There's coke, uppers, marijuana, and a couple of others. We also found a phone, and if you could come this way, there are some messages on it that you need to read."
Her eyes widened. So this man was a dealer. Of course, he might also be a killer, but for now, the phone might provide evidence that cleared him or didn’t.
She followed the cop through to the police station’s back office, where he took the phone out of an evidence bag and handed her a pair of gloves.
The back office was quiet. One officer was working at a desk in the corner. Two others were packing up for the day and heading home.
Turning her attention to the evidence, she saw this was an old, cheap phone, so basic that it didn't even have GPS on it. Caitlin knew this was a typical model that a dealer would use when needing to put secrecy and discretion first. And clearly, so he could use it fast, there was no password and she could get straight in.
Immediately, Caitlin saw that this phone had been used to set up drug deals. The messages had mostly been deleted, but a few recent ones still remained that he hadn’t had time to clear.
One of the messages was from a supplier. It read, “We have some goods for you. Come on over to pick it up.”
Then there were a couple so short they were practically in code, and then one from someone who looked like they might be a new customer asking about prices.
Another was from a customer. "Can I have ten?"
"Will do. Pickup?"
"Corner Scott and Twist."
"Time?"
"Seven a.m."
Just after seven, Himes had messaged. "I'm here."
The customer had messaged, "2 mins away."
Caitlin's eyes widened. That was yesterday morning, and a quick check of the map showed her that Scott and Twist were in a town a few miles outside of Albuquerque.
If Himes had been there at seven, doing a drug deal, then he couldn't have been in the neighboring town, grabbing a victim and committing a murder. The distances were too far away. That was a forty-five-minute drive.
Of course, this would need checking, but the red sports car was clearly his vehicle, registered in his name, and Caitlin was sure that camera footage from the main road would prove he had been heading there.
"I guess you take over from here," she told the cop. "He's your guy now, and you can press charges. Just check if his car really was heading to the rendezvous at that time, so we can clear him."
"I will. I'll request the footage right now, and we'll charge him in the meantime," he said. "I'll go into the interview room and send your partner back here." Grabbing the phone, he strode away.
Sitting in the back office, Caitlin felt her heart sink. This suspicious character, though a criminal, wasn't their criminal. Their criminal was still at large. She was starting to feel panic at the thought he might never be found, or else, would kill again.
Footsteps tramped down the corridor and she turned to see Nathan arriving in the office, looking equally disconsolate.
"Not our guy," he said in tones of disappointment.
"No. He was dealing drugs. He was due to meet someone at seven for a pickup near Albuquerque yesterday morning," she said, telling him about the message on the phone. "The cops will double-check that he was in that area, but I’d say it’s ninety-nine percent likely to be confirmed."
Nathan sighed. "So we're back to square one. Did the security guard check out?"
"He did, yes," Caitlin said. "I still need to call the teacher and make sure that he was at the school where he said he was yesterday, so I can do that now.
She pulled up the number, and dialed it, checking her watch. It was already after five p.m. The day was flying by.
"I'd like to speak to Ed Mulligan," she said.
"Mulligan here?" the deep voiced man replied, sounding slightly impatient, as if answering calls outside of school hours was something that had to be dealt with, but as quickly as possible.
"Mr. Mulligan, it's Agent Dare here. I'm just confirming the whereabouts of a witness to a murder," she said. "I believe you saw Lance Lovatt yesterday at the school. Is that correct?"
He paused. "Yes, that's correct. He always drops off his kids on his days off, and has a coffee at the kiosk. We always make time to chat. I've known Lance for years. He's a good guy. He actually used to guard the school when he worked for the old company that got taken over."
"So you can confirm he was there at seven?"
"Yes, it would have been just after seven that we bumped into each other, because I got in at seven sharp," he confirmed.
"Anyone else see you?"
"Yes, the principal walked by and greeted us both," he said.
"Thank you," Caitlin said. "That's all I need."
"I hope you find whoever did this," the teacher confided. "Everyone at school is talking about it. There's a feeling of fear here. Several parents have called, asking if they should keep their kids at home."
"We're working around the clock on it," Caitlin said. “I hope we’ll have answers soon.” But she didn’t even believe her own words, and was feeling anxious inside. The day was almost over, and what had they gotten so far? Only a couple of leads and ideas that had come to nothing.
"Thanks for your time, Mr. Mulligan," she said, and hung up.
"What did Mr. Mulligan say?" Nathan asked.
"That Lovatt was there at seven, and that he saw him," Caitlin said.
"Back to square one then?" Nathan sounded resigned.
"Yes," Caitlin said. "All the way back. I think we should look at the case files, read through what we have, and see if there's anything we missed. Any tiny detail that might give us a new direction. Someone that these victims have in common would be first prize."
Nathan took a breath and Caitlin felt sure he was going to suggest something different, just because that was what he usually did, as was the dynamic between them. Then they would have an argument and thrash it out for a few minutes, and finally they would agree on a course of action.
That was what always happened, but not this time, because Nathan let the breath out again and Caitlin realized, feeling even more worried now, that he couldn't think of any other course of action that they hadn't explored. That was because there wasn't one.
"You're right. Let's go through what we have," he said, looking equally glum.
A few minutes later, they were seated beside each other in the police station’s back office, Caitlin with her laptop pulled up, and Nathan with printed papers spread around him. She worked methodically, taking every single piece of evidence and reading it carefully, trying to look into it deeply, scouring the text for something she might have missed.
And as she read the reports about Monica and Cindi, she got the ghost of an idea.
Rereading, it solidified into an actual theory.
"I think I know what they were both planning to do," she said. "They had something in common. At first, I didn’t think so, but now I’m seeing it. And it might just be that someone knew, and wanted to stop them."
CHAPTER TWELVE
"What's your theory?" Nathan asked her. Caitlin saw his face brighten with hope as he turned to stare at her.
"I'm thinking that both these women were following dreams,” she said. “Look at it. Both going to LA, both with one-way tickets, both young, pretty women who had no strong ties to their local environment; they didn't own cars, they weren't in serious careers, and they didn't have boyfriends. So they were free and single and could easily have taken that step on a whim."
"And you think that might mean they have someone in common? Following that dream could have caused them to tell the same person about their plans?" It sounded like Nathan was doubtful about her theory.
