All the Shiny Things: A Kate Reid Novel (Kate Reid Series Book 1) (36 page)

She ended the call and put both phones on the nightstand next to her bed. As she closed her eyes, a moment of fear passed through her, goose bumps rising on her skin. Maybe it was the creepy motel, or maybe it was a fear that tomorrow, she would find nothing and would return to face the inevitable. At some point though, her journey through the dark and imposing Redwoods would have to end. It seemed like a place she’d never really left.

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A
man and a woman argued outside, near Katie’s motel room door. The muffled sound of obscenities being tossed around woke her from what had been a pretty good night’s rest. “Are you kidding me?” she said, folding the flat pillow around her head. But it was too late. She was awake. Katie rolled onto her back and looked up at the dingy popcorn ceiling. Today was the day. She would either drive back to Rio Dell, empty handed, groveling for forgiveness or she would return, exultant in her own investigative abilities. Like Marshall, she too had hunches and this one was strong.

But what Katie needed right now was coffee. She glanced at the wind up alarm clock next to the bed and realized it was nearly eight a.m. The light seeping in around the edges of the blackout curtain was dull and suggested a much earlier hour. It was already the start of October and the days had grown shorter without her even noticing. Time had been standing still for so long, Katie could hardly decipher one month from the next.

One of the disposable cell phones began bouncing around on the nightstand, vibrating toward the edge until Katie snatched it up. It was the one with the number she had given to Aguilar.

“Hello?”

“You ready to get started?” The voice on the other end was immediately recognizable.

“What? I can’t come with you,” Katie replied.

“Why not? I’m not suggesting you waltz into Sac PD shouting, ‘Give me Robert Wilson’s files.’ But you need to be a part of this too. I can’t do this all on my own.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah. I can meet you in twenty minutes?”

“Make it fifteen and meet me at the diner.” Aguilar hung up.

Katie dropped the phone and began scrambling to pull herself together. Having managed a quick shower, she pulled her wet hair back into a ponytail, brushed her teeth, and was out the door.

Aguilar was sitting at the same booth from the night before. Only this time, he had some papers with him.

“I’m here; so what now?” Katie slid into the booth, clasping her hands as they rested against the table.

“I had a shitty night’s sleep in my hotel room last night, but it did give me time to think about your suspicions. While I’m not entirely convinced this is going to go anywhere, I’m sufficiently intrigued and have already begun to follow up on a few things.”

Katie’s eyes lit up at his suggestion that she might have something; that she wasn’t crazy.

He pulled his laptop out of his carrier bag and powered it up on the table. “I’ve already put calls in to some people I know at San Diego County Records; they can pull up files from just about anywhere in California, not that they’re supposed to. However, there’s a shocking amount of personal information online. So, that’s where I started.”

Katie had been this route before. Not pertaining to Chief Wilson, but she knew what anyone could dig up on the internet.

“Robert Wilson was married in 1983 to Sandra Sinclair, according to an announcement in the
Sacramento Bee
. That much, I found online. Then, I got an email reply early this morning from one I’d shot off in the middle of the night to my guy in Records. Seems the Wilsons lived in the suburbs of Sacramento and had a daughter in 1985 named Marisa. He joined Sac PD in 1984, where he started as a street cop and moved up to detective in 1988.”

“So, the chief has a wife and daughter,” Katie said. “That doesn’t explain why he wanted to leave Sac PD for Rio Dell.”

“That’s what we know right now. The next step is to talk to someone in Sac PD, see where that gets us.”

“I can’t go in there with you. My case is all over the news.”

“Calm down; I know that. I’m going in there on my own right now. Why don’t you go back to your room and I’ll be in touch as soon as I get what I need. And, take my laptop. You can do some more research on your own and I’ll forward any more files I get to this email address.” Aguilar handed her a piece of paper with a Gmail account written on it.

The reporter whom just a week ago had been her adversary was now her biggest ally. Marshall wasn’t going to be happy about this new partnership. He trusted few people and even fewer in the media. But, she suspected Aguilar would cooperate so long as he thought a big story was going to break.

“I’ll call you later.” Aguilar dropped a five on the table for his coffee and left.

Katie ordered some breakfast and scanned the internet for more leads on Wilson. Nearly an hour had passed when she heard her name and took her eyes away from the computer screen. She quickly looked around for the source and noticed the small flat screen television hanging on the wall behind the breakfast counter. A headshot of Sam was on the screen next to the local news anchor.

“And in other news, the FBI has confirmed a connection between the death of Samantha Hansen and the case of an eight-year-old Portland girl, found twenty years ago. They have advised the public that they are on the lookout for this man. The FBI asks that if you know the identity of this person to please contact them at once. He is considered dangerous and should not be approached.”

They were admitting to a connection. This couldn’t be a good thing. They wouldn’t have released this information if they didn’t think the situation had gotten away from them.

Katie stowed away the laptop, hoisted the bag over her shoulder, and left the diner. She had to get out of there; her face might be the next one to show up on the screen.

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Back in her room, Katie continued looking for anything she could find on Wilson and his family, but Aguilar seemed to have had better luck. The piece of paper with the Gmail address on it lay next her. She opened up the account, but there were no new messages. The hours were ticking away and she had expected to hear from Aguilar by now.

She soon reached for the cell phone and held it in her hand, staring at it, debating the need to call Marshall, to find out what was going on. He would only insist she come back, but what if he had more information? Something had happened overnight and she needed to know.

“Detective Avery.” His tone was softer than before. He must have realized it would be her.

“It’s me. I’m checking in.”

“I was hoping it’d be you. Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. I just saw the news that the FBI admitted to the connection between Sam and Angela Richards.”

“They did. Kate, I need you to come back here today.”

There was something foreboding in his words, something that made her heart sink. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it? What is it, Marshall; what’s going on?”

“There was another package, this time it was delivered to your parents’ house late yesterday. I didn’t find out about it until after we spoke last night. Miller called Chief Wilson and told him first.”

“My parents’ house? Aren’t there cops protecting them?”

“Yes. But it was sent via courier. We’re already working on who requested the delivery.”

“What was in the package, Marshall?”

“It was a bracelet; a child’s bracelet, like the kind a little girl would wear.”

“Oh God, another child has gone missing? Who? When?”

“We don’t know anything yet. But the bigger problem is that it was sent to your folk’s place. Katie, we need to get you and your parents somewhere safe. We are getting close to finding him. The guys working Oregon City may have finally turned up something. But we need you to come back and be with your family.”

“What do you mean; what did they find up there?”

“I mean it’s the little things that end up bringing the bad guys down, Kate. Scarborough’s men tracked down a location in Oregon City. You remember the lead on the stationery store? Someone in the area knew the guy, said he lived in a small cottage on the edge of town. The FBI is there now, searching the place.”

“Why aren’t you there?” she asked.

“I’m supposed to bring you back and keep your parents safe. He knows where they live and until we hear of a missing persons’ report that would fit, we don’t know if he’s taken another kid. Kate, I need you to come back now. Whatever it is you think you’re accomplishing out there on your own isn’t important any more. If they find anything about his identity in that house, he’s going to get desperate; start taking bigger risks. No one; not the FBI and not me, wants you or your parents around when that happens.”

“Okay, I get it.” And she did. She was scared, not just for herself, but for her parents. “I’ll be back tonight, I promise.”

“They know you’re in Sacramento. You need to come back now before they come and get you.”

“Wait, how do you know?” She suddenly felt betrayed. Had Marc Aguilar, Mr. Annoying Investigative Reporter, called her out? She knew she shouldn’t have trusted him.

“Seems the chief still has some friends at Sac PD; someone called to tell him a reporter had been asking questions. I’m assuming you enlisted some help?”

“Shit.”

“I need to tell them you’ll come back voluntarily or they’re going to send someone to come get you.”

“Why am I being treated like the criminal here? Am I not free to travel wherever I want?”

“Normally, yes; but the last thing the FBI wants right now is for the press to realize you’re out looking for answers on your own and that the FBI can’t control you.”

“So, it’s not about safety, it’s about controlling me.”

“Not for me, it isn’t. I want you back here with me because I’m terrified something’s going to happen to you. But for them, yes; mostly it’s about keeping a handle on the investigation and not having some rogue person out there thinking she can find the killer, especially the only surviving victim.”

“Marshall, I just need you to give me a few more hours. Okay? Can you just tell them we talked and I agreed to come back? I’ll just have some ‘car trouble’ along the way, explaining the delayed return.”

“Promise me it’ll only be a few hours, Kate. I’m trusting that you understand what’s at stake here.”

“I get it. I caused the death of my best friend. I’m not going to be the cause of losing my parents too. A few hours, I promise.” She hung up.

She began to wonder how much Aguilar was going to be able to find out. One of Wilson’s friends either overheard him asking about the chief, or was the one being asked. She was going to have to call him and find out what was going on. “Marc, it’s me. Where are you?”

“I’m leaving the station now. I need to see you right away. I need to meet you at your motel. You said it was nearby?”

“It is. I’m at 6291 W. Freeport blvd. The SkyRacers Inn, Room 285.”

“Fine. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

It was the longest five minutes Katie had ever waited to pass. She caught herself biting her nails; something she only did when anticipating bad news.”

A knock on the door—“It’s me, Katie. Marc. Open the door.”

She walked over to the window and edged the curtain back just enough to confirm it was him and he was alone.

“Come in quick.” She stepped aside to let Marc in. “So? What’d you find out?” She’d expected him to give her that pitiful look from last night. The one people give you when they think you might be crazy.

“You’re going to need to sit down, Katie.” Aguilar pulled out his notepad. “Sac PD was a dead end. They shut me out the minute I started asking about Wilson’s transfer.”

“Yeah, I suspected as much. I talked to Detective Avery and he said someone called you out.”

“Well, if it hadn’t been for a call I got from my guy over in Records, I’d be coming to you with nothing. I got the big fat run around at the station.”

“So what is it? What’d you find out?”

“Chief Robert Wilson, formerly Detective Wilson, used to be in the system.”

She had no idea what he was talking about.

“The foster care system,” he explained. “He had a brother and a sister, all in the system. Wilson isn’t his birth name. It’s Hendrickson. He was born to Elise and Frank Hendrickson in Eureka. Seems the parents hit hard times, split up, and the mother couldn’t afford to care for the kids. She committed suicide and the three of them went into foster care because no one could track down the father. Wilson was five, his brother seven, and his sister was two.”

While this was an interesting bit of information about the chief, Katie couldn’t yet figure out why it was she had to sit for this one.

Aguilar must have sensed this and sat down at the edge of the bed next to her. “Wilson went on to be adopted by a nice family in the suburbs of Eureka.”

“What happened to the other two? Katie asked.

“An accident killed the toddler.”

It began to dawn on her why he had instructed her to be seated. “What happened to the sister, Marc?”