Obsession (27 page)

She took a breath. “Whatever you say, chief.”

~*~

Jess wanted to crawl into a hole. Instead, she matched her stride to Burnett’s and headed to the conference room. Griggs and Patterson were already seated at the long, cluttered table. Chet and Lori were huddled near the window. 

Another wave of mortification washed over Jess at the idea that she and Burnett must have looked like that when Chet poked his head into Burnett’s office. She had ten years’ experience, at least, on those two. There was no excuse for her unprofessional behavior.

What in the hell had gotten into her?

Stress. Frustration. Temporary insanity. Pick one. Hell, pick all three, she thought in disgust.

And Lily. Her sister was terrified for her family and for Jess.

What a mess.

Dan moved to the head of the table and waited for everyone to be seated.

Jess settled into a chair at the opposite end. She had to pull herself back together. She needed to focus.

“You okay?” Lori murmured as she took the seat next to Jess.

“I will be,” she muttered, “as soon as we find these girls.”
And I give Spears what he deserves
, she kept to herself, and then run as far away from here as possible.

“Sergeant Harper,” Burnett said, “give us a rundown on this new development.”

“As Agent Harris and Detective Wells learned earlier today the Debarros case, one that involved a missing girl with similar circumstances, has a vague link to one of the girls in our current case. Christina Debarros’s mother claimed her daughter’s secret boyfriend was Tate Murray. Dana Sawyer was the longtime girlfriend of this same young man through his high school years.”

“The problem is,” Griggs interjected, “Tate Murray has been dead for over three years.”

“Yes, sir,” Chet agreed. “We have considered the possibilities of some sort of revenge for his death, either from the parents or a close friend, but we feel that revenge isn’t the motive since none of the missing girls had anything to do with his death. His and Dana Sawyer’s relationship had ended several months prior to the accident that took his life.”

“Then what is the motive and what do you have to substantiate it?” Patterson demanded, his impatience vibrating in the room.

“What we have,” Chet answered, “is the fact that suddenly, after all these years, five young women have gone missing under similar circumstances. Christina Debarros’s disappearance can be characterized in this same manner. Sudden disappearance with no forewarning to friends or family.”

Jess silently urged him to get to the part she didn’t know yet.

As if Griggs had read her mind, he said as much. “Is there an echo in the room? We got that part already.”

“Please continue, sergeant,” Burnett said with a sharp look in Griggs’s direction.

Jess leaned back in her seat and put her hand over her mouth to hide a smile. It was about time Burnett stopped letting these old coots run the show. She was glad one of them had let their impatience show rather than her for a change.

“Detective Wells and I have been running various searches on the name Tate Murray. We didn’t find any relevant to our case, until we considered the name Tim. Reanne Parsons received text messages from someone named Tim, as we all know.”

Jess held her breath. She looked to Lori who nodded.

“Tate Murray’s full name is Tate Isaac Murray. T. I. M.”

The tension in the room thickened. Jess’s heart thudded harder.

“We searched the name Tim Murray,” Chet explained. “And we got a hit. Tim Murray has been enrolled in an online university for the past two years. The kind that doesn’t require any actual classroom attendance or even any face-to-face interviews. He received his associate’s degree in agricultural management in early June, just a few days before our first girl went missing.”

Her preliminary conclusion had been right. Jess had to hold herself down in her chair. She wanted to act! 

“How can you be certain Tate Murray and Tim Murray are one in the same?” Patterson shook his head. “The boy’s dead for Christ’s sake.”

“The school website displays photos of its most recent graduates. Most of the photos look like the senior photos taken for high school graduation. Tim Murray’s photo matched the one of Tate Murray in the Warrior year book his senior year. Tim and Tate
are
the same person. And,” Chet said before anyone could start throwing out theories in an attempt to counter his obvious conclusion, “according to what I just learned from the search of the archived vehicle registrations I ordered yesterday, Tate Murray owned a truck when he died. A 1972 blue
Ford
truck.”

Good God. Jess felt the air leave her lungs in a rush. It
was
him. 

“That’s quite a story, sergeant. However, one thing is certain,” Griggs tossed in, his tone reflecting his disbelief, “Tate Murray didn’t text anybody or abduct a single one of these girls. Who are you theorizing is the unsub?”

My Tate
. Mr. Murray had shown no sadness when he spoke of his son.

Jess launched to her feet, almost sending her chair tumbling to the floor. “Sergeant Harper is right. Mr. and Mrs. Murray have been living in denial for years. They haven’t accepted their son’s death.”

Words and images flooded Jess. The grief those people must have suffered at losing their only child. The sheer agony. Bitterness and resentment as they watched the other children in their community grow up. The infinite need to simply love their son. Wrestling back control, she set aside the overpowering emotions. 

“We can all sympathize with the loss of a child,” Patterson offered, “but what you’re suggesting is—”

“They’ve carried on as if he’s still alive,” Jess said, the realization settling firmly. “They enrolled him in an online university that didn’t require a physical presence. The longer they lingered in denial the more obsessed they became. They couldn’t let their son be dead so they went on with his life for him.” Jess turned to Chet. “Find a judge who will sign a warrant to exhume his body. I’ll wager Tate Murray hasn’t been a resident of the cemetery where he was buried since shortly after the graveside service.”

“We can’t go digging up someone’s dead son based on speculation,” Griggs argued.

Patterson agreed, “The press will eat us alive.”

Lori had opened her laptop and her fingers raced across the keys. Jess didn’t know what she was looking for but she hoped it would be something to win this unreasonable standoff. They had to act now.

But what if she was wrong…about part of all of this?

“Gentlemen,” Burnett stood, “we’ve run out of time and excuses. The gloves have to come off. Detective Wells, call Judge Schmale, tell him I’m calling in that marker he owes me.”

“An exhumation may not be necessary, chief,” Lori spoke up. “Tate Murray was buried in the family cemetery on the Murray farm.”

“That’s even better,” Burnett said. “We need a search warrant for the Murray property.  List the girls’ names. And don’t forget Christina Debarros.”

“Make it fast,” Jess urged. “Tate Murray graduated college recently. His family is ready for him to take the next step.”

Dan’s eyes met hers as if he’d just realized the same thing.

A new kind of terror flooded Jess. “I believe the Murrays have been searching for their son’s bride.”

Chapter Twenty

Andrea sat in the chair next to the dead boy. The trembling wouldn’t stop. She worked hard to keep it from showing. Her fingers tightened around the bouquet of flowers she held.

The man and woman had decorated the living room with flowers and ribbons. A two-tier white cake with a topper featuring a bride and groom sat on a table. They had both read from the Bible. Hugged and kissed each other, Andrea and the boy.

This was crazy. Andrea wanted to go home. What had they done with the other girls? Hours had passed and neither the man nor the woman had mentioned the others. She hadn’t heard any screaming.

Tears burned Andrea’s eyes. Don’t cry!
Don’t cry
. She had to be strong. She could escape if she stayed strong and calm. Dan wasn’t coming in time. She had to stay alert for an opportunity. She hadn’t seen a gun, which meant all she had to do was be faster and stronger and smarter. If they caught her…they would do to her whatever they had done to the others…to that girl and baby in the basement.

“Andrea,” the woman said, “do you take Tate for your lawful wedded husband? To have and to hold until death do you part?”

He’s already dead!
“I…” Andrea swallowed back the terror. “I do.”

“Do you, Tate,” the man asked, “take Andrea for your lawful wedded wife? To have and to hold until death do you part?”

A moment of silence passed.

The man and woman smiled. “That’s my boy,” she said.

“We now pronounce you man and wife,” he said.

The woman snapped another photo. “Now the kiss!”

The man hurried over and scooted the boy’s chair around until he was facing Andrea. “Tate,” he said gently, “you may kiss your bride.”

“Get out of the way, Daddy!” the woman shouted. “You’re blocking my shot.”

Andrea couldn’t move for a moment. She stared at the pitiful face that, though not decomposed completely, was showing signs of deteriorating. They were waiting, the camera poised to capture the next shot.

She had to do this. Her life depended upon it. God only knew what they had done to the others already.

Andrea leaned forward. Her breath caught at the smell, something pungent like disinfectant, as she grew closer and closer. She pressed her lips to his cold, hard mouth.

The camera flashed. Cheering and clapping filled the room.

“Get the champagne, Daddy. I’ll cut the cake.”

Andrea stared at the corpse. What had happened to this boy? Were these people really his parents? What about the bodies in the basement? Were there others?

A small china plate filled with cake was shoved in front of her. Andrea forced her lips into a smile. “Thank you.” She tried to keep her fingers from shaking as she held the plate. If she dropped it, they would probably punish her.

Another plate with a big slice of cake was placed on a table and dragged over to the boy’s chair.

A pop startled Andrea. She almost dropped the cake. Her fork rattled against her plate.

The bottle of champagne bubbled over. Two stemmed glasses were filled. One thrust at Andrea. The other placed on the table next to the boy.

The man and woman drank champagne and danced around the room. They toasted their son and talked about what a perfect birthday present his new bride was. They sang happy birthday to him.

Today was his birthday.

Andrea sat watching them. She couldn’t move. She felt sorry for the dead boy. If these people were really his parents, they shouldn’t be doing this to him.

She decided he had been handsome when he was alive. Young, too. Probably only seventeen or eighteen. The suit he wore looked new. Had they preserved him like this? Had they killed him? Maybe he died of some illness and they just couldn’t accept that awful truth.

Andrea sipped the champagne. Sip after sip, she watched the boy and drank, praying the alcohol would numb her to this nightmare. Then she remembered what Dan had told her.
Be smart. Don’t drink yourself into stupidity
.

“Eat your cake, Andrea.” The woman took Andrea’s empty glass and set it aside.

Andrea ate the cake, forcing forkful after forkful into her mouth. She chewed just enough to swallow the lump.

“Isn’t that cute?” the woman said to her husband. “See the way she looks at him? Now that’s love.”

Andrea kept ramming the cake into her mouth until it was gone.

“Good, girl!” The plate and fork were taken away. “Tomorrow we’ll start your cooking lessons. But tonight is all yours and Tate’s.”

Andrea felt the cake scaling back up into her throat. She swallowed harder to keep it down.

“First,” the man said, “there’s that one other thing we need to get done.”

Another urge to vomit contracted Andrea’s muscles. She struggled to contain the compulsion.

The woman nodded. “I almost forgot about that. Get her some gloves, Daddy. We don’t want her hands all blistered up. Tate wouldn’t like that.”

“Come along, daughter.” The man took her by the arm and hauled her out of the chair.

“Tate and I will keep celebrating!” the woman said. “Tate and Andrea sitting in a tree,” the woman sang, “k-i-s-s-i-n-g…first comes marriage…”

The crazy song faded as the man led Andrea through the kitchen and out the back door. It was still daylight outside. The urge to run slammed into her.
Not yet!
He would catch her. 

She blinked at the sun, tried to look around without drawing his attention. The house was big and old. The yard surrounded by woods. Not in the city, she realized. She needed to turn around to look for the road.
Just do it!
She twisted her head around and stared beyond the house. The road was far away but she could see it!

“Now come on, darling.” He hustled her forward. “I’ll get you back to your new husband soon.”

He led her to a big old barn. While he heaved the large sliding door open, she scanned the woods. Thick and dark. When she got away, she could run into those woods and hide.

The barn was creepy and dark. He slammed the big door shut, leaving them in total blackness. Fear twisted inside her. A light switched on. Andrea blinked, looked around. What looked like a truck and maybe a car were covered with big green tarps. Shelves and a work bench lined one wall. But, at the far side of the barn, was a big pile of dirt. He ushered her closer to the pile. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw the hole.

The other girls were in the hole. Bound and gagged and too still.
Breathe, she told herself
.

There were five bodies not four. She couldn’t see the other one’s face. The hole wasn’t wide enough. They were piled on top of each other. Some had fallen to the side. She could see the profiles of those two. Dana and Callie.