A Flight of Fantasy (Sarah Woods Mystery 12) (5 page)

Chapter 12

As we entered the parking lot of Fitch High School, we spotted Reece’s red Mazda and parked in the closest spot next to it. I got out of the Buick and noticed a group of teenaged boys sitting on an old car smoking cigarettes. They couldn’t have been older than fourteen. They seemed preoccupied, shouting to each other in antagonistic tones, so they didn’t pay attention to me when I pretended to drop my purse on the ground near Rita’s car. I quickly placed the GPS tracker under the trunk, stood up, and dusted off my hands in a casual manner. When I glanced at the boys, they still paid no attention to me.

“It’s almost two o’clock,” I said when I got back in the Buick. “School gets out any minute so we should probably go wait somewhere else until Rita is done for the day.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”

There was a Dunkin Donuts across the street from the high school and we parked there. This afforded us a clear shot of the parking lot where we’d see Rita walking to her car.

“She might have to stay after school to meet with students,” I said. “In a town like this, I have to believe she has her hands full with troubled teens. Man, I don’t think I could do it. She must see all kinds of abuse.”

“Takes a special person to do that job,” Carter said.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe she wasn’t after Wayne’s personal or financial information. Maybe she was after something else.”

“Like what?” Carter asked.

“I don’t know, but she doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who steals from people. I mean, if she was desperate for money, she would have taken one of Wayne’s paintings, or something she could have exchanged for quick cash.”

“Good point. But time will tell. I say we keep watching her to see if she does it again.”

Around 2:15, school let out and the parking lot became a hangout of sorts. Smoking, flirting and even a mild fight broke out.

“Look at that,” I said, pointing to two young punks who seemed to be egging each other on with wild hand gestures. One boy sucker punched the other and went down hard. A group of hecklers gathered around, none of whom helped the injured party. At that point, we couldn’t see what happened because a crowd had formed, blocking our view.

“What is it about boys and fighting,” I said. “Brian never got into fights. At least, not that I know about.”

“You see it all the time in lower class neighborhoods,” he said. “Fights were a daily occurrence where I went to school.”

“Really? Were you ever involved in one?”

“No, but my best friend Tom had problems with a few bullies in eighth grade. They put Tom in the hospital after a prank they pulled on him.”

“What did they do to him?”

“They put a rat in his locker. Tom opened his locker and the rat took a chunk out of his hand. Ended up with rabies. He was in the hospital for weeks and almost died.”

“That’s unbelievable.” Noting the evil look on Carter’s face, I knew there was more to the story.  “So, what did you do to the bullies in retaliation?”

“Well, Bobby was the leader of all the bullies and he used to drive this Camaro to school every day. He was so proud of that thing, always showing off. So one day during school, I went out to the parking lot and poured a cup of sugar into his gas tank. You have no idea how much I enjoyed watching the tow truck haul it away while everyone gave him shit. Best day of my life.”

“Did he ever find out it was you who did it?”

“He had his suspicions I’m sure but he couldn’t prove it was me. I got dirty looks from him and his posse the rest of that year, but he never tried anything funny. I almost wished he had. I’d have been ready for him.”

“Remind me never to piss you off,” I said. “I can’t afford a new car right now.”

He laughed. “You haven’t pissed me off once in the two years I’ve known you.”

“Good. I hope it stays that way.”

When I looked over toward the high school, it appeared as though the crowd of students had dispersed. One by one, the cars left the parking lot.

By 2:45, most of the cars had vacated the lot, but the red Mazda remained. Finally, we saw Reece emerge from the side exit of the building, walking with a girl who looked pretty young, probably a freshman.

Rita had an arm wrapped around the girl who was wiping her eyes as if crying. They stopped in front of a beat up old Dodge pick-up. The girl turned away from Rita after the two hugged, and drove off in the truck. Rita stood there until the girl was out of site. Finally, Rita headed toward her Mazda and got in. She sat there for a while as if she’d forgotten how to start the engine. She didn’t appear to be on her cell phone. Maybe she was just taking a moment to decompress from her hectic day.

“She seems upset,” Carter said. “I wonder what happened to the girl, and why she was crying.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe she failed an exam.”

“Really?” Carter gave me a sideward glance. “Did you ever cry because you failed an exam?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

After a few minutes, Rita drove out of the parking lot and headed in the direction of her house.

Carter glanced down at the tracker locator on the tablet in my lap. The red dot on the screen’s map indicated Rita’s car. “She’s either heading home or going to pick up her daughter,” he said. “Unless she’s got an appointment with a John.”

“Well, first, she’d have to go home to change. Rita Hayworth dressed as a guidance counselor wouldn’t be much of a turn on.”

Carter started the engine and pulled out into the street behind her.

Chapter 13

After Rita had collected her daughter from the Hayward Private School, they stopped at a grocery store. When they came out a few minutes later, the girl had three brightly colored balloons, the strings tied to her wrist. The girl seemed so happy as they walked back to the car.

“Awe,” I said. “That’s sweet. I must say, Reece seems like a good mother. Look at the way she is with Amy. So gentle and patient. I give her all the credit in the world. As adorable as her daughter is, it can’t be easy.”

“Sounds like you’re beginning to like this woman. Let’s not forget she’s the subject of this investigation.”

We followed the red Mazda back to Lincoln Ave. where Carter pulled over to the opposite side of the street, several houses down from Reece’s. “She might not be planning to go anywhere tonight, but I’d like to stay close just in case she decides to go somewhere. Why don’t we get some dinner and keep an eye on the tracker.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m starving.”

We found a deli shop a few blocks away from Rita’s house and had a leisurely dinner of roast beef sandwiches, potato chips and ginger ale. At 6:45, we noticed Rita was on the move again.

“Maybe she’s taking her daughter out for ice-cream,” I said, although I had a feeling that wasn’t the case.

“I guess we’ll find out.” Carter grabbed the keys to the Buick and we hurried back to the car.

By the time we caught up to her, we were on the 95 turnpike heading south. She maintained the speed limit and stayed in the right hand lane, apparently in no big hurry to get to her destination, wherever that might be.

We continued to follow her for another ten minutes until she finally flashed her blinker to take exit 67 toward Fitch.

“Maybe she’s going back to the high school,” I said. “Maybe she forgot something.”

“Or maybe she’s meeting up with another guy.”

We continued to follow her through town and expected her to pull into the Fitch High School parking lot but she continued on another few miles. We entered a town called Ashland, and eventually ended up in a nice residential neighborhood.

When Rita pulled her car over to the side of the road and shut her lights off, Carter did the same. If Rita’s daughter was in the car, she must have been sleeping in the back seat, otherwise I had to assume the girl was at the neighbor’s house. “What the hell is she up to? Is she doing a house call?”

Carter shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Rita never got out of her car. She just sat in the dark, doing who knows what.

“Maybe she’s lost.”

“She’s not lost,” Carter said. “She’s doing research.”

“Research?” I asked.

“Maybe there’s a poor sucker who lives in one of these houses, and she’s planning to steal his information, too.”

“It’s a pretty nice neighborhood. If she’s targeting wealthy men, this makes sense.”

Carter tapped my arm and pointed out the windshield. “Look, she’s getting out of her car.”

I got my camera ready and took a bunch of shots of her strolling across the street, heading toward one of the bigger houses on the block. She went up to the door and lifted her hand to knock, but then stopped as she looked in the window. She just stood there, as if contemplating what to do. She lowered her head, stalling with some kind of inner turmoil. Eventually she backed up and ambled back to her car and got in.

“That’s weird,” Carter said. “Why the change of heart?”

“Is there any way you can find out who lives in that house?” I asked.

He was already on his cell phone, punching in numbers. “I might be able to find out quickly by plugging in the address to my program.”

Reece started her engine and took off. “What are we going to do? Should we follow her?”

“I want to find out who lives in this house. We’ll know where she’s going.”

Five minutes later, Carter had a name. “This house belongs to Dr. Darren Wheeler and his wife Sharon.”

“What kind of doctor?” I asked.

“No idea, but I can easily find out.”

I unclasped my seat belt and zipped up my jacket. “While you do that, I’m going out for a little evening stroll. Maybe I can get a glimpse inside the window and see what’s going on.”

“Okay, but try to be nonchalant about it.”

It was fully dark at seven o’clock and the night air was chilly. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and meandered across the street toward the doctor’s house. As I slowly passed by, I noticed a light was on in one of the rooms on the first floor. Four people sat around a dining room table eating dinner. The couple was in their late forties and the boy and girl both had to be under twelve years old.

It warmed my heart to see a family eating together and actually talking to one another. These days, such occurrences seem rare with the lure of technology, always texting on the cell phones, or playing games.

I continued my stroll to the end of the block, turned around and slowly retraced my steps back. Catching another glimpse into the house, I got a better look at the father this time. He wore a preppy looking cardigan and he had a long, skinny face with a large Adam’s apple. Why would Rita show up at his house during dinnertime? Didn’t she know he had a family?

Unless Carter was right. Maybe Rita was scoping him out for another reason that involved stealing credit card numbers or the like.

When I got back to the Buick, there wasn’t much to tell Carter, but he had some information to tell me.

“Dr. Wheeler is a child psychologist, has had his own practice for eight years. From what I can tell, he’s well respected in his field. No complaints against him. Never been arrested.”

Warming my hands between my knees, I said, “He seems like a family man. He was having dinner with his wife and two kids.”

“The only connection I can find here is that Reece and Dr. Wheeler both work with children.”

“Dr. Wheeler could be one of Rita’s escort clients. But I have no idea why she’d come to his home, unless she planned to tell the wife. But that doesn’t make any sense, either.”

“None of this makes any sense,” Carter said. “Unless Reece just chooses random, wealthy men. She seduces them, and then steals their personal information. Good theory, but the problem is we have absolutely no proof of that.”

“Maybe it’s time we have another chat with Reece,” I said. “She can’t deny she was here. I have pictures.”

Carter glanced down at the tracker and the little red dot. “Looks like she’s headed home. Let’s wait until she puts her daughter to bed and then we’ll knock on her door. But I don’t expect she’ll welcome us inside with open arms.”

Chapter 14

When we got to Rita’s house twenty minutes later, sure enough, her red Mazda was parked in the driveway once again.

“It’s almost eight o’clock,” I said. “I have to assume her daughter will be in bed soon. Unless Rita is the kind of mother who lets her kid stay up until she falls asleep on the couch. For some reason, however, I picture Rita as someone who sticks to a schedule.”

Carter said, “I’m thinking you should go and talk to her by yourself. She might be more inclined to trust you if I’m not there.”

“If you think that is best, I don’t have a problem with it. I don’t imagine she’ll go crazy on me with her daughter there.”

When I got to Rita’s front door and knocked, I was surprised to see the little girl peering out at me from behind the screen door. She just stared at me with wide, curious eyes but said nothing.

“Hello sweetheart,” I said in a soothing voice as I leaned over. “Is your mommy home?”

She didn’t respond, but I heard her mother calling out from the other room. Apparently, the girl hadn’t learned the dangers of strangers. When Rita came into view, she was out of breath, a momentary look of panic. But when she saw me, her shoulder’s relaxed a bit. “Amy, please go back to your room like I asked.”

The girl pretended not to hear her mother. She kept staring at me with those big blue eyes. When Rita finally got to the door, she reached down and picked her daughter up. She said to me, “Can I help you with something?”

“Yes,” I said, showing her my private detective license. “My name is Sarah Woods. I was hoping to ask you a few questions.”

She seemed annoyed but was making an effort to be polite. She adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “I’m not sure what this is about but now is not a good time. I need to put my daughter to bed pretty soon.”

“No problem,” I said. “Take your time. I can wait.”

“You don’t understand.” Rita’s tone was becoming more clipped. “My daughter doesn’t fall asleep unless I lie down with her. Some nights it takes hours.”

“I understand,” I said. “I have a son. He’s in college now, but I remember when he was little, he wouldn’t fall asleep unless I had read five of his favorite books. Every single night. I kinda miss those days.”

Rita smiled wearily. “Yeah, well. Could we do this another time?”

“I could stop by your office tomorrow,” I suggested. “Would that work?”

By the tight expression on her face, I could tell she was less than pleased with that idea. Her daughter was starting to fidget, so Rita let her down and said to her, “Amy, go to your room and pick out which pajamas you’d like to wear to bed, okay?”

The girl nodded and ran out of sight. When Rita turned back to face me, her eyes bore into mine. “Now what’s this all about?”

“What were you doing at Dr. Wheeler’s house tonight?”

She blinked rapidly. “What are you talking about?”

“I have pictures of you at his house. Would you like to see?”

“You’ve been following me?”

I sidestepped that question and decided to take a different approach. “Does the principal at Fitch High School know you’ve been moonlighting as an escort?”

Rita’s jaw clenched. “This has to do with that Wayne fellow. You must work with that guy I met yesterday at the Four Seasons.”

“That’s right. Now, can I come inside to discuss this? It’s pretty cold out here.” I rubbed my hands together to demonstrate just how cold I was.

She reluctantly opened the door for me to enter. “Have a seat if you like. But make it quick.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate this.” I followed her to the kitchen where the distinctive smell of macaroni and cheese filled the air. Rita gestured to a stool at the island and I took it.

“I already told your partner what happened,” Rita began. “A guy approached me last Thursday and offered me money to show Wayne a good time.”

“Where, exactly, did this man approach you? Because, we already went to Panini Heaven and asked around. Nobody has ever seen you before.”

She looked away, clearly deflated. “Shit.”

“Look,” I said. “Why don’t you level with me? We both know that nobody put you up to this. Did you go to Wayne’s house to steal something from him?”

“I’m not a thief.”

“Then what were you looking for?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Who is Dr. Wheeler to you?” I persisted. “What were you planning to do at his house tonight?”

Rita shook her head. “I can’t get into this right now. I need to put my daughter to bed.”

“If you don’t give me something, I’ll be forced to go to the police with this. I don’t want to do that. You seem like a great mom.”

“You’re threatening me?”

“If you tell me the truth about why you went to Wayne’s house, I’ll convince him not to press charges. We can work this all out ourselves. But if you refuse to come clean …”

“Fine.” Rita stood up and marched out of the room. I sat there, bewildered, wondering where she was going. I didn’t hear the girl crying, but maybe she was just checking on her. When she reappeared, she had a manila envelope in her hand. She slapped it down on the counter in front of me.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Evidence I’ve been collecting for weeks. I’m just not sure what to do with it yet.”

“Evidence for what?”

Rita crossed her arms and dropped onto the stool, her eyes downcast. “One of my students at the school, she’s been in a lot of trouble this year. Drugs, theft, promiscuity; typical behavior for someone who lives with abusive parents. She’s confided in me, and has asked me not to tell anyone about what Dr. Wheeler is doing with her.”

Something clicked in my brain and a piece of the puzzle went into place. “Your student, was she the one you stayed after school with today?”

“Yes. She’s been a patient of Dr. Wheeler for a few months. After some trouble at home, I recommended that she start getting some treatment. I did research and found out that Dr. Wheeler does a lot of pro bono work and he was willing to make time for her.”

I was completely intrigued at this point, not knowing what to expect. I gestured for her to continue.

Rita nodded. “He specializes in troubled teens, specifically with drug and alcohol abuse. I had no idea he was a sick bastard.”

I blinked hard. “What?”

“When my student told me in confidence that Dr. Wheeler asked her to take off her clothes as part of a trust exercise, she complied. He took advantage of her, and then posted her pictures online.”

Completely stunned by this accusation against a well-respected doctor, my first instinct was to not believe it. “Why would a man like him risk his career and reputation to do something as careless as that?”

“He wasn’t careless. He was cunning. He did a hell of a job trying to hide his identity online. I’ve done a lot of research on this. Pedophiles have a very intricate underground web of security protocol, using untraceable usernames and passwords. I just happen to have a friend with extensive computer knowledge. He was able to trace some of these usernames on the blog. I was able to find out that Dr. Wheeler is a member of a site called
Teenager Revealed.
Now, the title itself doesn’t sound particularly sexual or deviant but, when you actually read some of the posts, it becomes clear that these men are all sick. I have no idea if there’s any truth to these posts, or if these guys are just writing out their fantasies but, the fact that these photos have been shared is disturbing to say the least. I know it’s a sickness but these men talk as if there’s nothing wrong with lusting over young teenagers.”

“Other than Dr. Wheeler, have any of the other members posted pictures of other girls?”

“No. As far as I can tell, Dr. Wheeler was the only one. As you can imagine, however, it only serves to encourage that kind of behavior.”

“What proof do you have?”

“Go ahead and see for yourself.” She tapped the envelope on the counter forcefully. “But I’m warning you, it will give you nightmares.”

I picked up the envelope and emptied the contents into my hand, holding my breath. Rita was right, the girl was completely nude. The look of trepidation and embarrassment in the girl’s eyes made me quiver with rage. It was obvious she was not enjoying herself. “How old is she?” I asked.

“Only fourteen. A freshman.”

“What’s her name?”

She paused as if she didn’t want to tell me. “Allison Kenney.”

“Do her parents know about this?”

“No, she’s afraid to tell them. Her parents are never around anyway. Like I said, the family has a lot of problems.”

“And how did you get these photos?” I asked, flipping them upside down on the counter so as not to expose the poor girl any more than was necessary.

“Look, I have a duty to protect her, don’t I? I figured if I could collect some kind of evidence myself, then I could present it to the police and Allison wouldn’t have to testify. So, I was able to get inside Dr. Wheeler’s office a few weeks ago after business hours. I downloaded files from his computer and found out that Dr. Wheeler has a blog online. He and six other men regularly post comments and offer their own experiences.”

I hesitated. “Experiences with under-aged girls?”

Rita made a disgusted face. “Yes.”

“Shit,” I said, shaking my head, realizing exactly how our client was involved in this. “Are you going to tell me that Wayne Miller is one of the guys who posts on the blog?”

“Yes. Wayne is the only one who lives locally. The other four guys live in different states. I have the usernames for each one but, like I said, it’s been a struggle to obtain real names. These guys are smart and they are evil. They’ve become experts at hiding their identities.” Rita leaned over and pointed to a username:
waynethebrain69
. “That’s Wayne Miller.”

The reason Reece wanted Wayne’s files now made perfect sense. “Please continue,” I said.

“Well, once I knew that Wayne lived locally, I got his address and started following him on my own; to see if any of the stories he had written about were actually true. After a few weeks, I realized that all he did was go to work then come home. He doesn’t seem to have any friends. Then last Thursday night, I followed him to that event at the Hilton, A Flight of Fantasy, and I realized that it might be my only chance.”

“So you got into the event and came on to him. How did you know he’d fall for it and invite you back to his house?”

“Well, I didn’t know for sure. I realized he was a light drinker and if I could convince him to drink more than he was used to, I figured it might make him more agreeable.”

“So you got him to take you back to his place?”

“Yes. Once he was passed out, I searched his entire house, looking for signs that he’d been molesting girls but I found nothing.”

“So it’s possible that Wayne’s stories were made up.”

Rita shrugged. “Not necessarily.”

I scratched my head. “So, I don’t understand why you went to Dr. Wheeler’s house tonight? What was that all about?”

“I was going to confront his wife about what her husband did to Allison; then I realized it was a stupid idea. Besides, their kids were there and I just couldn’t go through with it. He would have denied the whole thing anyway.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I can’t begin to tell you how stressed out I’ve been over this. I feel like I’ve let Allison down.”

“You’ve done enough,” I said. “At this point, it’s up to Allison. She has to come forward.” Another thought occurred to me. “Do you know if Dr. Wheeler has done this before with other patients?”

“Not that I can prove, but this can’t be the first time. He’s too good at it.”

At the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen, I looked over and saw Rita’s daughter standing there in her pajamas holding the string of a deflated balloon. Most kids sleep with their teddy bears. Amy had a thing for balloons. “Mommy, I’m thirsty.”

Rita prepared her daughter a sippy cup of milk and ushered her out of the kitchen. “Please excuse me,” she said. “I need to tuck Amy into bed. Give me a few minutes.”

“Take your time.”

I realized that Carter must have been wondering what’s going on. I got my cell phone out and called him.

“Sarah, is everything okay?” he asked in a worried tone.

“I’m good,” I said, keeping my voice to a whisper. “But you’re not going to believe what Rita has presented to me. She has proof that Wayne and Dr. Wheeler are both involved in some nasty shit involving under-aged girls.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m afraid so. One of the girl’s is Rita’s student at the high school where she works. Apparently this girl is also a patient of Dr. Wheeler’s. He’s been taking nude photos of her.”

“Have you seen them?”

“Yes. They’re right here in front of me. Wayne is our client, so what are we going to do about this?”

“First, we need to substantiate Rita’s story. I’ll need to look over whatever information she has. If everything checks out to be true, then we’ll decide what to do.”

“Okay. I’ll see if Rita will agree to that.”