Find Me If You Dare (The Chronicles of Elizabeth Marshall Book 2) (23 page)

BOOK: Find Me If You Dare (The Chronicles of Elizabeth Marshall Book 2)
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                 Chapter Sixty-One

                                        
                    

I spent that night at my parent’s house, partly because I was too tired to go home but mostly because I still wanted to be reassured they were safe.

The next few days moved by at a sluggish pace. Three days later the dark green minivan was found at the Denver International Airport. It put the whole investigation into a panic. Had she boarded a flight? If so, she could be anywhere. She could have even left the country for all we knew. Hours and hours of security and surveillance tapes were combed through at the airport by federal agents as well as airport and Homeland Security. Flight manifests were checked and double checked. TSA agents were screened and interviewed thoroughly.

I didn’t think she had any kind of identification on her and airport security had never been tighter these days, but we were also dealing with someone that had proved to be extremely resourceful. We had to exhaust every possibility, leave no stone unturned.

My other concern was that the Denver International Airport, as well as most other major airports in the country, led directly to major freeways and highways. That was all she really needed. With Maxine’s experience with truck driving, she could get anywhere she needed to go, virtually unseen.

Madeline and Director Phillips still hadn’t given up on the possibility that Elizabeth was headed for New Mexico. The director had already flown down there in the event that they could pick up her trail.

I had tried Dr. Ross’ cell phone a few more times. It still just went straight to voice mail and she never called back. We never could get another signal on it. It had probably been tossed aside just as I had feared.

Logan was dividing his time between helping out with this investigation and keeping up with his own regular workload. I didn’t see much of him unless I came by the police department. I found that I went by the department less and less. It made me feel helpless and frustrated, looking at those dry erase boards and walls, filled with an increasing amount of information that was still getting us nowhere. I was tired of pacing back and forth between the maps and crime scene photos, trying to force my mind to predict Elizabeth’s next action and prevent the next crime.

Madeline, ever the psychologist, had sensed my mood and frustration and had asked me to meet her for lunch at a
bakery not far from the college campus. I hadn’t seen much of her since that night at my parent’s house. She had confided in me that she had also been brought in to profile a possible serial killer in Long Island, New York, and had been video conferencing in with the agents on sight there. I suspected there were probably several other cases she was probably working on too that I didn’t know about. A good forensic psychologist and profiler were in demand in the FBI these days.

We had just ordered and hadn’t even gotten our drinks when she came straight to the point.

“Are you sleeping?” Her voice told me that she already knew the answer.

What to tell her?  I rarely slept. Sometimes I stayed at my parents, sometimes I went home to my too-quiet apartment. When I could sleep, I was haunted by terrifying nightmares of being chased through the halls of the mental hospital by Vesper, reaching for me, almost catching me. If it wasn’t that it was visions of walking through some of this crime scenes I had seen over the past few months. The blood, the death, the pain was almost a physical presence there at the scenes. It wouldn’t leave me.

When I was awake, things would recycle over and over through my mind in an endless, exhausting chain. I would go over and over every letter and clue that Elizabeth had left behind for me. I would analyze and dissect every conversation I had had with her from the time she had been on the run.

Was there anything I had missed? A word? A phrase? A subtle reference? Something that could be vital to capturing her that I might have missed?

Madeline was patiently waiting for my response. I knew she was reading my every expression and gesture.

“When I can.” I knew my answer was minimal and evasive. I couldn’t find the energy to give her more than that.

“Cases like this can take a heavy toll on you.” I knew she was speaking from experience. “And that’s when they’re not even personal. This is going to eat away at you. We don’t even know if or when we’ll find her. It could be months, years even before we find her if she decides to lay low for a while. In the meantime, you need to take care of yourself. If you don’t, you could end up being one more of her victims.”

I was quiet for a moment and let her words sink in. She was right. I was letting Elizabeth control me, to control my life, and she wasn’t even here. If I didn’t do something, I could end up becoming just another one of her causalities.

“I need to
do
something, Madeline.” Our eyes met across the table. “I feel helpless. I just keep going around in circles. What am I missing? The answers are there. I know it. There has to be a way to find her.”

Madeline was quiet for a moment as the waitress brought us our drinks and salads. She was deep in thought as she took a bite or two.

“When you were on the phone with her the other night, she said she was innocent, that she didn’t commit those crimes. Why do you think she would say that? We have more than enough evidence to prove she was there at every crime scene. Why would she try to convince you otherwise?”

I took a sip of my ice
d tea, staring at the lemon wedge floating around the chips of ice.

“I’ve thought about that a lot since that night at my parent’s house.” There were so many complex layers to Elizabeth, so many different reasons why she might do or say something. “It might not have been Elizabeth I was talking to that night. Sophie likes to act like Elizabeth. It’s a game she plays. She’s very sly and clever. It could have been a show she was putting on for me to try to gain my sympathy. On the other hand…”

Madeline was listening carefully. She raised a finely tapered eyebrow in question. I took a deep breath and tried to explain my other theory.

“Elizabeth, or Lisbeth, the person who I knew as my friend might not even know about the murders. She might really be innocent of the crimes.”

Madeline leaned back into her seat a bit in surprise. Her eyes widened slightly, a look of confusion as she dropped her fork onto her plate.

“What are you saying?” She almost looked as though she was about to get angry with me. “She can’t be innocent. We have enough forensics and DNA to put her away for several lifetimes. There’s no question she’s the committed those murders and assaults.”

“Who did?” My simple question caused Madeline to immediately flash me a look of annoyance. She was about to start jumping down my throat when those two words started to sink in. A look of dawning came over her face.

“Is it possible?” She whispered.

I nodded slowly. I had seen it happen before, with my own eyes.

“The different personalities are capable of completely compartmentalizing things. They can entirely shut one or more of the family members out of an event or incident. Sometimes it’s for protection, sometimes it’s for secrecy. Most of the time I’ve known Lisbeth, since she was diagnosed, she was always the dominant personality. She was present most often.  She seemed to have the most control over the others. What if that’s shifted though? What if Lisbeth no longer has any control? It could be any of the others controlling things. It could be a personality I don’t even know yet. If that other family member has taken control, I don’t know what they are capable of. There’s a chance that Lisbeth,
my Lisbeth
, doesn’t even know about the crimes. She could be completely in the dark. In a sense, she really could be innocent.”

Madeline could only lower her head and take a slow breath as all the possibilities set in.

 

   
                  Chapter Sixty-Two

                                               
            

“Good afternoon, Detective Hammond.” I placed a large plate of my homemade butterscotch-chocolate chip-oatmeal cookies on his desk and another on Logan’s. I had taken Madeline’s advice and decided to use baking as a stress relief. It was definitely causing me to become a favorite around the department.

Logan’s partner, Don Hammond had received more than his fair share of the goodies I was bringing in. He really endeared himself to me when he had taken a personal interest in protecting my parents. He and my father had really hit it off and had found they
had a shared interest in a number of things. It was such a comfort for me to know my parents were being watched over.

“Where’s Logan?” I asked. His computer was on and there were several neat stacks of case files on his desk but his chair was empty.

“He’s in a meeting with the chief. They’re video-conferencing with the FBI director down in New Mexico.” Hammond had barely answered me when he spotted the plate of cookies and grinned. “You know, I’ve probably gained ten pounds since you’ve started bringing in all this food.” The mock complaint in his voice made me smile as he lifted the plastic cover on the dish, took a large cookie and bit into it. He closed his eyes in bliss. “Best ten pounds of my life. You should open your own bakery.”

“Maybe in my next life.” It cheered me up to see how much they enjoyed what I brought in. It was a small gesture, but at least I didn’t feel completely useless.

“Do I smell cookies?” Logan stood behind me in the doorway, his face lit up at the sight of me.

Hammond mumbled some kind of affirmative answer around a mouthful of cookie.

Logan gave me a quick kiss on my lips, not hesitant about showing me affection in front of his partner.

“Anything new on the case?” I asked as Logan reached for a cookie on his own plate.

He indulged in a few bites before he answered.

“Not a lot. They’re still combing through surveillance video from Denver International to see if they can spot her around the time we found the minivan. From there, we seem to have lost her trail.”

Same story, different day, I thought. I was learning that in some ways, the waiting was the hardest part.

“I just don’t get it.” Hammond was talking around a mouthful of his third cookie.

“Get what?” I asked.

“Well, the way I see it, Elizabeth Marshall was committing a crime every few days. She seemed to go from one to the next as fast as she could travel there.” He used the half-eaten cookie in his hand to make his point. “It’s been two and a half, almost three weeks now
since she attacked that doctor and now nothing. Why?”

He had a good point. Of course, few things seemed to follow a pattern with Elizabeth.

“There could be a few different reasons for it.” I took a seat next to Logan’s desk. Hammond offered me one of my cookies but I declined with the shake of my head. I enjoyed baking them but really didn’t have much of an appetite these days. “She might be following the news. She might know how hard we’re looking for her. She could be being cautious to avoid detection.”

“I guess that makes sense.” He nodded in understanding.

“She could also be having a hard time finding her next victim.” It was Logan’s input this time. We had discussed some of these scenarios before. Crime sprees didn’t always wrap up nicely in a two hour movie or a one hour television drama. How many times since I had been involved with this did I have to remind myself of that?

“If she’s targeting a certain person, she may be having as hard of a time finding him as we are.” We certainly hadn’t made much progress in finding out who she might be going after next. Not everyone could be
easily found in an internet search.

“I thought I smelled cookies.” Madeline had appeared at the door. She swiped a cookie off of Hammond’s plate with a grin, knowing the plate would be empty soon.

“Help yourself.” Hammond laughed as she took a quick bite.

“These are good.” She took a few more bites in silent appreciation before a serious look came over her face.  “We’ll have to take these with us. We have to go.”

“Where are we going?” I asked in confusion.

“Phillips just called back from New Mexico. He’s in Albuquerque. We’re flying down and meeting him in Las Cruces. The local PD just called us to let us know they had a call come in on their tip line last night. Some guy was worried because he thought he was being followed or stalked. They thought it was a crank call and almost dismissed it. They did realize they should notify us until they noticed the caller’s name. Robert Marshall.”

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