Splintered (32 page)

Emma kept searching through Hank’s stuff. Most of his clothes were casual. Jeans, T-shirts, two pairs of khakis, and one suit. Everything in his closet was arranged by type of clothing, then by color. His drawers were neat—he even folded his socks and underwear.

“Did you find any hidey-holes?” Emma asked. She ran a gloved hand underneath the weight bench in the corner, feeling for anything taped to the underside. Nothing. Since there weren’t any clothes draped over the weights or items stacked on the bench, she suspected Hank must have regularly used his equipment. She could visualize him bench-pressing the full 240 pounds of weights, working up an early morning sweat.

“No, we didn’t find any secret compartments. All the porn was out in the open. These guys didn’t seem too worried about their interests being discovered.”

“Any other property in their names? What about parents?”

“Daniel Fry owns no property; the house is in Hank’s name. Both parents are dead—mom from suicide and dad from colon cancer. There are no other siblings. Only an aunt who lives up in Michigan. She’s been contacted, but says she hasn’t heard from the boys in years, not since her brother Earl died in 2002.”

When Emma finished searching the bedroom, she moved to the kitchen. Wallace had also finished checking the bathroom and moved into the side bedroom where Maddy had been kept prisoner.

“Hank Fry’s room was devoid of any sentimental items,” Emma said. “Did CSU confiscate any photo albums or journals?”

“No. We didn’t find anything like that in the house. Nothing but a few pictures on the living room wall.”

“Any activity on Hank Fry’s cell phone?”

“No, he hasn’t used it all day. He most likely removed the battery. All calls go directly to voice mail.”

“What about bank account activity?”

Wallace came out of the bedroom and stood in the archway of the kitchen. “Yes. The same time SWAT was descending on the Fry house, Hank was emptying his bank accounts. Two thousand in checking. Eleven thousand in savings. When the branch manager asked why he was closing his account, Hank said he was moving. The manager thought Hank’s behavior was suspicious. He seemed nervous and in a hurry. When the manager suggested they wire the money to Hank’s new bank account in the city he was relocating to, Hank got angry. Told the manager he never was happy with the service he’d gotten at the bank and had wanted to change for some time now. Hank wouldn’t even take the suggestion of traveler’s checks. The guy wanted cash.”

“So the manager knows something’s not right but gives him the money anyway?”

“The guy couldn’t do anything about it. Hank had all the proper identification. The money was his to do with what he wanted.”

She sighed, feeling frustrated as hell. The urge to scream almost overtook her. She wanted to take every dish in the kitchen and smash it against the wall, to tear apart every piece of that monster’s handcrafted furniture until it was kindling. Instead, she took a deep breath and asked, “What about work? Is he military?”

“No. He’s employed by a construction company. The one that scored the big I-75 expansion bid. Hank’s boss said he hasn’t been to work since Saturday night, when he clocked in for an eleven-to-seven graveyard shift.”

Emma stopped pulling out the plastic grocery sacks from underneath the sink and looked over at Wallace. “He’s been off for the last
five
days?”

Wallace nodded. “Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday the job site got rained out. Remember that big thunderstorm? Then Hank called in sick Wednesday and today.”

“Was that a normal occurrence, blowing off work?”

“Nope. The boss said he could only remember a handful of times Hank’s ever missed work, and that each time it had something to do with his brother. I also talked to Daniel Fry’s boss. Daniel works as a bagger at a grocery store. The guy told me Daniel has the mental capacity of a ten-year-old. Hank’s been taking care of him since their dad died. I did the math. Hank would’ve been twenty-one and Daniel only sixteen. That’s ten years Hank’s been taking care of his little brother. It’s a lot of hard work to look after a mentally challenged sibling. Shows some serious devotion.”

“Then why did he leave Daniel behind today?”

When Wallace didn’t answer right away, she looked over at him. He was tugging on his ear, his lips pressed together in a slight grimace. Shrugging, he said, “Don’t have an answer for that one.”

“Did either boss report any behavior issues with the Fry brothers?”

“Daniel’s boss describes him as happy, outgoing, and a hard worker. Overall, the boss was pleased with his performance. He’d only ever had one problem with him. I read the complaint in Daniel’s personnel file, a report made by a checkout girl. She said Daniel kept giving her love notes, leaving roses tucked under her windshield wiper. The attention made her uncomfortable, so she complained. We have a detective interviewing her now.”

Wallace left the kitchen and moved into the living room. “Hank’s boss didn’t have much to say other than that Hank was intense. He also had issues with authority, but the boss put up with it because Hank was one of his best guys. We’re still interviewing coworkers. So far nothing’s surfaced.”

“All these junk drawers are empty. Did you go through everything that was bagged?”

“Yep. Twice. Nothing to indicate a potential hideout.”

Emma moved into the living room with Wallace. Empty cans of Mountain Dew littered the tables. A pile of clothes lay in a bunch on the floor. She turned toward the front window and saw the deep pinks and dark purples of another Florida sunset. It was a punch to the gut knowing the sun would soon be setting on another day that she’d failed to bring Maddy home.

She finally tore her gaze away from the window and asked, “Do either of the guys have an arrest record?”

“Hank’s clean, but a complaint was filed against Daniel for public exposure.” Wallace explained the details relayed to him by the responding officer. “Don’t know if it was a purposeful act or an honest mistake. Either way, looks like the complainant isn’t going to file charges.”

Emma walked over to the pictures on the wall. “Every photograph shows the brothers as adults. You didn’t find any baby snapshots, no ugly school pictures?”

“Nope. Those five are the only ones in the house.”

“Interesting.”

Wallace had shown Emma the DMV photos of the Fry brothers earlier. She knew the muscular man in the pictures was Hank. In one, he had his arm around a thin young man, Daniel, who held up a shopping bag in each hand. It looked like it had been taken inside a supermarket. Emma wondered if the photo commemorated a first day of work. She searched Hank’s face, looking for clues to the evil inside him. The only thing she saw was a proud brother beaming into the camera.

Another photo was of Daniel sitting by himself. He was behind the wheel of a vehicle, a set of car keys hanging from a bent finger. It had a blurry quality, probably due to the motion of him swinging the keys.

A third picture showed Hank and Daniel sitting on their couch, toasting soda cans. In this one, she noticed Hank’s smile didn’t quite match his eyes. He must not have been able to slide his friendly face on quick enough. The camera had flashed a half a second too late to allow him to conceal the cold, calculating eyes.

I’ll get you, you son of a bitch.

Emma looked at another framed photograph. “Who’s this with Hank?” He had an arm around a beautiful blonde woman. Her cracked smile seemed to indicate an uneasiness at their closeness. “She a girlfriend?”

Wallace walked over. Emma grabbed the frame off the wall and angled it toward him so he could see it.

“No.” He chuckled. “She’s a TV reporter over at WRTX. Does the five o’clock news.” Wallace started humming the broadcast’s catchy jingle.

“I thought she looked familiar.”

Is it a coincidence that she works for the same station that interviewed Maddy?

Wallace cleared his throat. “What about the side bedroom? Do you really need to see it again? I made a second pass through, and there’s nothing there.”

She knew she’d been avoiding the room.

Who could blame me? I never want to see it again, but if I don’t search every corner of this house, I’ll be plagued with the what-ifs.

“Let’s go out to the garage first. I need some air. If we don’t find anything there, we’ll finish up inside.”

Emma put the picture frame back on the wall. “Wait a minute. Where was this last photo taken?” She pointed at a shot capturing Hank and a few other guys sitting around a bonfire. An old shack was in the background.

“I don’t know,” Wallace said.

Emma turned the frame over and slid the cardboard out. On the back of the photograph, in a child’s handwriting, was: “Boys wekend at jims fising caben.” That familiar jolt of electricity sizzled across Emma’s nerve endings. “This is it, Rocky. This place meant something to Hank. To have this picture on the wall, only one of five in the whole house—it had to have meant something to him.”

“Or Daniel. But where is the fishing cabin? The guys are surrounded by trees. It could be anywhere. We don’t even know if it’s in Florida.”

“Do you think the lab could enhance the picture? With more detail and some distinguishable characteristics, maybe we could narrow the search area.”

“It’s worth a shot,” he said.

“Why don’t you go back to City Hall and run with this? Have your guys track down who Jim is. I’ll stay here and keep looking.”

“You sure?” Deep worry lines were etched into Wallace’s forehead.

She nodded. “If the picture is a dead end, we’ll need something else to go on. I’ll keep searching. When I’m done, I’ll call you. We’ll figure out our next steps then.”

Emma had to face walking back into that bedroom sometime, and she knew it would be better if she did it alone. Since the moment she’d seen Maddy’s message scrawled in blood, flashes of it kept haunting her. Right now they were like pop-up ads on a computer screen—they showed up when she didn’t want them, but she could still make them go away. She didn’t relish, however, the effect an intense search would have on her. Once she spent time on her hands and knees, studying every crack and crevice in the room, the scene would be forever seared into her mind. But she was willing to live with horrible images if it brought her one step closer to finding Maddy.

Hank pulled the throttle back on the boat. He slowed to study the east side of the river for the markers in the trees.

Shit, did I miss it?

The woods looked like they hadn’t been disturbed in years. Overgrowth could have obscured the markings.

The weekend he and Daniel had spent at his buddy’s fishing shack, Hank hadn’t been the one driving the boat. Beers and friendly banter had occupied his attention during the long ride. The only reason he’d even known about the zigzag lines etched into the trees was because of Daniel’s incessant questions to Jim. Hank had told the boy to lay off, but Jim said he didn’t mind. Daniel was the only one listening to his boring monologue about the different species of birds and indigenous plant life anyway.

Dammit! Everything hinges on me finding this place.

He thought the marker was supposed to be to the right as they entered The Narrows. It was a part of the Hillsborough River that tapered at the north end, becoming extremely shallow and dangerous to traverse.

“Yes!” Hank exclaimed as he spotted the upper part of a line etched into a tree. He’d been right—half of the marking had been obscured by foliage growing up the trunk.

He planned to lie low at the cabin, wait until the heat died down. The police would be looking for him, wanting to question him in the disappearance of the girl Daniel kidnapped. Nobody knew Hank had Maddy but who knew what Daniel would say once in custody? It was too dangerous to be driving on the roads, and there might be an APB out for him, which meant public transportation was out. The cabin was his only option. But if it didn’t work out, he’d gut the girl and dump her in the woods. It’d be easier to get out of the city alone.

After Hank maneuvered the boat as close to the bank as he could get, he switched off the motor and jumped into the river. The water only covered the hem of his jeans by a couple of inches. He pulled the motor out of the water, then walked toward the bow. Summoning up all his strength, he yanked the boat up on land. It was difficult to move it through the brush. Heaving and pulling, he finally managed to get it deeper into the woods. He hollered at Maddy through the tarp, told her not to move, then went back to the shoreline to cover up any signs of broken foliage.

Satisfied, Hank walked back to the boat, erasing his steps as he went. He pulled the tarp off Maddy. “I’m going to uncuff you and cut the tape off your legs so you can walk. When you’re free, slowly get out of the boat, then wait.”

After the girl did as she was commanded, he strapped on a heavy camping backpack with a sleeping bag strapped to the top. Then he put a smaller version of the same pack on her back. He cuffed her hands in front of her once it was on.

He noticed that Maddy looked like she was having trouble breathing, like she couldn’t get enough air in through her nose. She swayed, and he grabbed her. With her hands cuffed and the weight of the pack, she would have fallen on her face if he hadn’t steadied her.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, digging his fingers into her arm.

Muffled sounds came out of her mouth.

“If I take this tape off, you’d better not scream. All the rules of training still apply, and I expect you to follow every one of them.”

Hank tore the duct tape off Maddy’s mouth, enjoying the tears that sprang to her eyes. She stifled the sound of her pain well. Red splotches marked the skin around her lips. She greedily sucked air into her lungs, though it didn’t seem to help her catch her breath.

“Don’t forget for a minute how easy it would be to dump your body out here. No one would ever know. No one would ever find you. Make sure you keep on pleasing me.”

He picked up the two brown paper bags sitting inside the boat and set them on the ground. Then he pulled the tarp over the top, hiding the boat from sight. When he looked up, he saw Maddy with a thumb in her mouth. Her cheeks were also puffed out.