Creatures of Appetite (5 page)

T
horne and Kane
finally landed in the city of Lincoln, the capital of Nebraska, later that day. Kane had had plenty of time while stuck on the plane to do some Internet research. Nebraska was 76,872 square miles in size, which made it the sixteenth largest state in the union just in terms of area. The last census put the population at 1,711,263. Factor area with that number and you got a population density of 22.3 people per square mile. Nebraska’s nickname was the Cornhusker State. The state flower the goldenrod, the state bird the western meadowlark and the state motto, “Equality Before the Law.”

Kane wasn’t sure if any of this information would help, but she wasn’t sure that it wouldn’t, either. They hopped into a squad car and headed for Task Force Headquarters. Kane took a look around as they cut through the city, but it was hard to see anything through the falling snow.

Thorne simply closed his eyes, slumped down in the seat and ignored her. He hadn’t said a word since their conversation on the plane and Kane was reluctant to speak and possibly lose what little ground she’d gained earlier, so she just let him be and stayed silent and kept surfing the net.

With a population of just under a quarter of a million souls, Lincoln was small, comparatively speaking, for a state capital, though its size and population grew significantly during the college school year, Lincoln being the home to the University of Nebraska. The university’s football team, the Nebraska Cornhuskers, was extremely popular and it’s reported that whenever a home game is played in the fall, the streets are deserted, with everyone either at the game or watching it on television.

A very clean city with wide sidewalks, friendly, helpful citizens and a low crime rate, considered the ideal place to raise a family. At least that’s what the official city website read, the authors of which one would imagine were far from objective. Even the bars closed early, at one in the morning, which meant that last call was at twelve-thirty. In black and white on her laptop it felt a lot like Kane’s home state of North Carolina, at least that was her first impression.

That impression lasted all of two seconds once she stepped outside and a below zero wind brought tears to her eyes. Thorne cursed the cold under his breath as they walked up the steps and into Task Force Headquarters.

Lieutenant Norman Hairston, an older man with obvious tendencies toward fussiness, stood waiting for them just inside headquarters and after introductions hurriedly led them through the maze of the main office area, peopled with large numbers of desks, cubicles, computers and men in uniform bustling about importantly.

“We expected you hours ago, did you get my email?” Hairston asked as he ushered them to a couple of empty desk cubicles in the corner.

“Yes I did, thank you, our plane was delayed by the snowstorm,” Kane replied.

“The snow, yes, it is that time of year. Unfortunately, you’ve missed the morning briefing and there were one or two interesting developments. I’ve got a summary here somewhere, but first let me find the captain and introduce you. Andy, have you seen the captain?”

Andy, an officer in uniform, didn’t look up from his desk where the report he worked on required as much concentration as he could reasonably spare. “He’s in the can. He just went in, so he’ll probably be awhile.”

“Ah yes. The coffee hit. We’re going to have you two situated at these desks here. Make yourselves at home and I’ll see if I can arrange for someone to catch you up to where we are,” Hairston bustled off.

Kane set her bag and coat down on the desk and gazed out the window. The amount of snow falling amazed her. A large map of Nebraska tacked up on one wall drew Thorne’s attention. He examined it closely, pausing only to pop a fresh stick of gum into his mouth.

“Kane,” Thorne said.

“What?” Kane swiveled quickly.

“Where are they putting us up, anyway?”

“Uh, I’m not sure. Budget Inn, I think.”

“First class as usual,” Thorne grunted, focused on the map on the wall. The abduction sites were all clearly marked on the map, crossing the state. Thorne followed them with his finger. Posted next to the map on a bulletin board were pictures of all the missing children.

Andy looked up from his paperwork to see Kane not even two feet away from him. He gawked openly at her.

“Are you really an FBI Agent?” Andy asked.

“I am,” Kane looked at him sideways. “They gave me a real gun and everything.”

As he studied the map on the wall, Thorne became aware of someone in a state Trooper uniform standing next to him.

“Pretty sad, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Thorne asked.

“This. We really should have caught someone by now, don’t you think?”

“As long as it’s the right someone, then yes, I do think that.”

“Jeff Gilday, Nebraska State Patrol,” Gilday held out his hand.

Thorne shook it, finding it to be a very strong handshake.

“Jacob Thorne.”

“Pleased to meet you. Hey, Gerry! This is my buddy, Gerry Scroggins.”

Another trooper, Scroggins, strolled over from behind a coffee machine. Scroggins and Gilday, both tall men in their thirties with the confident walk of an ex-athlete, checked out the new arrivals. Scroggins shook Thorne’s hand, also inadvertently punishing Thorne’s fist with yet another strong grip.

“Hey, how’re ya doing? You the new Fibbie profiler?” Scroggins asked with a large friendly grin.

“Looks like it,” Thorne freed his hand as soon as possible and silently resolved to avoid this exercise with anyone else in Nebraska. Kane walked over quickly and stuck her hand out to give it a go.

“How do you do, Special Agent Emma Kane,” she said, giving Gilday a knuckle-cracking handshake in return. Gilday was not at all displeased at the sight of someone as attractive as Kane and neither was Scroggins. They also both found themselves quite fond of her grip, though neither would allow themselves to ruminate too much upon its potential, that being not the proper thing to do while in uniform.

“It is a definite pleasure,” Scroggins said.

“Welcome to Nebraska.”

“What’s the state patrol’s role in all of this?” Thorne asked.

“On loan to the Task Force, by special order of the governor, until this gets resolved.”

“His Honor the governor wants this creep caught quick so he sent his two best to assist in the capture and that would be us,” Scroggins said. “Pleased the Task Force captain to no end, you can bet. Not the most cooperative cop in the world, mostly lets us hang around as a liaison to the governor’s office.”

“Gerry, careful.”

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Any thoughts on the situation?” Gilday asked Thorne.

“One or two,” Thorne replied.

“You guys meet the captain yet?”

“Not yet,” Kane said. “Apparently he’s relieving himself.”

“There’s some good news,” Scroggins said. “He’s always a mean cuss until he’s had his afternoon shit.”

Captain Forsythe approached with Hairston whispering close into his ear. A large, red-faced, jowly man of fifty who looked like he should be wearing sideburns even though he wasn’t, Forsythe was probably a big Elvis fan, Kane thought almost as a reflex. He glared at them.

“You two are late. I despise tardiness. And you want to know what I despise more than tardiness?’

“Passing notes in class?” Thorne asked. Forsythe looked at him for a moment, a hard look Kane was sure that Forsythe practiced in the bathroom mirror every morning. Forsythe cleared his throat and continued speaking.

“I despise having so-called experts shoved into my investigation against my will. I hate and despise that. We have our own people here and they are fully capable of handling this situation.

“The last clown you guys sent here, Riggs, turned the whole investigation into one large Chinese clusterfuck and that’s why he’s gone. I will not allow that to happen again. Your role here, in case you haven’t yet been told, is one of support. Nothing else. The FBI is not in charge of this case, I am.

“The governor of this state has entrusted me with catching this sick fuck and I will not let two glamour-seeking federal fuckheads get in my way. Make no mistake; I am the Big Dog on this case. My personal opinion of what you paper-pushing academics do is that it’s mostly cable movie bullshit, but if by some twist of fate you DO have something of value to offer to this investigation, I will sit down with you later tonight and hear you out, but right now I have a press conference. Until then, just sit in the corner, fill out your little reports and stay the fuck out of my people’s way.”

Forsythe swiveled and stalked off, adjusting his tie as Hairston followed. Kane and Thorne looked at each other.

“I’m sure glad we caught him after his afternoon shit,” Kane said.

K
ane discovered something
new about herself when she arrived at Task Force Headquarters. She discovered that being among so many uniformed men and women made her feel very comfortable.

Even as a detective in Homicide, though she didn’t wear one herself, she’d spent a lot of her time around the uniforms at the station. She hadn’t realized that she missed it, spending time with uniformed cops, and even though she’d never been terribly social all throughout her enforcement career, the sight of the uniform triggered something in her. It fostered a feeling of safety and security somewhere deep in her soul.

A native of North Carolina, Kane had originally gone to college to become a doctor. She spent two years pre-med at Georgetown University before making the big switch to pre-law. It was an incident in her dorm during the start of her junior year that triggered the switch.

As a dorm Resident Assistant, Kane was making a late night round in the hallway one Saturday night when she happened across one of her floor residents in a hot argument with her boyfriend. Seeing as that it was after curfew, those hours that members of the opposite sex were allowed on the floor, and that the young girl’s boyfriend had her pinned by the throat against the hallway wall, Kane had no choice but to intervene. It was her job as Resident Assistant, after all, to deal with these types of situations, Kane thought quite calmly at the time. Kane grabbed the young man’s arm and told him quite firmly to let the girl go. It did not go well from there.

The boyfriend, the star center on the college basketball team, took exception to her interference and expressed it by backhanding Kane roughly, knocking her to the ground. Her lip bleeding, Kane could taste both blood and shock. Did he hit me? she thought at the time, did he? Did he actually hit me? The question echoed in her mind nonstop as the young giant redirected his anger and rage from his girlfriend onto Kane.

Although Kane hadn’t considered herself sheltered, as a straight A student with loving parents and good manners, as an attractive girl who didn’t rebel through puberty, smoke, drink, stay out too late or do anything other than her homework, Kane realized at that very moment, that she was, in fact, very sheltered.

Up to that point in life, she had never really witnessed or experienced any type of violence to her person other than the occasional “excuse me” type of bump in the hallway before class. In fact, males of all ages tended to exert every effort to charm the pretty young woman, holding doors open for her, pulling out chairs for her to sit, with nary a harsh word coming Kane’s direction from anyone of the opposite sex.

The young man’s brutal backhand, delivered as casually as one might slap at a bug, shocked Kane, she felt shock to a degree that she’d never before felt in her life. For the first time in Kane’s life, she realized that the normal rules of behavior didn’t necessarily apply to everyone and that the large young man could and would hurt her without a second thought. For the first time in her life, Kane felt fear, real fear that flooded her entire being; fear and helplessness.

The young basketball player tossed his sobbing girlfriend aside, reached down, picked Kane up and began to shake her. Being just an inch or two under seven feet, he was able to hold Kane quite a distance up off of the ground as he cursed her loudly for her interference. Drunk, his Oklahoma born pale skin blotched red with anger, the young giant screamed obscenities and spittle in her face and Kane couldn’t do anything about it, frozen like a rabbit trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car.

A couple of other college athletes, basketball buddies of the center summoned by his hysterical girlfriend, showed up and grabbed the young man, forcing him to drop Kane. She lay there, unable to move or even speak and dorm residents poured out of their rooms to watch as the jocks wrestled the young center to the ground and sat on him.

Finally Kane stood, went to her room and with shaking hands dialed nine-one-one. When the first policeman arrived on the scene, she was so relieved at the sight of him that she couldn’t stop crying. Kane cried and her whole body shook like winter.

The star center received a reprimand from the Dean of Students and was benched for all of one game by his coach. Kane pushed for an expulsion and criminal charges but was stymied at every turn, no one in administration was willing to get radical with the player that may be taking the school to the NCAA championship.