Hunter (7 page)

FIFTEEN

Hunter

           
The
boredom was overwhelming. Even after a successful hunting trip, and knowing my
next victim was waiting for me to grab him. Being stuck in the office, making
stupid phone calls to idiot people, was feeling like a complete waste of time.
My wife was angry, because I never called to tell her I wouldn’t be home until
late on Monday night. I also didn’t bother to tell her I took an extra day off
work to stay at the cabin.

           
Of
course her anger was shared by not speaking to me, so I had more time to dwell
on my complete disgust for the dullness that was everyday life. Was it only
yesterday that I was in the woods, watching the police find my most recent
prey? Where I discovered the identity of the detectives haunting my path, but
failed to discover the identity of the mystery man who came so close to my
hunting ground, and acted so oddly? I’d left shortly after the detective’s
arrival, since I needed to get home. As much as I wanted to watch more, there
simply wasn’t time. One day at work was enough to detract from the thrill of
the chase, and the excitement of the unknown.

           
Even
the idea of meeting with one of my affairs didn’t appeal, so I ignored them and
continued with my calls. How could I hope to discover the identity of the stranger
if I was unable to be in the town to find him? The best way to search would be
to stay at the cabin. More and more I was determined to figure out who he was,
and discover what it was about him that drove me to near madness trying to find
him.

           
Sure,
I have an obsessive personality. But this was the first time I fixated so
strongly on a person, and I hadn’t even laid eyes on him yet. There must be
something drawing me to him, and I was unwavering in my desire to figure out
what.

           
The
day finally crawled to its end and I headed home to figure out my next step.
Somehow I needed to go back to that little town without anyone missing me. My
wife, dull as she is, would definitely start calling around, and drawing
attention if I went to the cabin indefinitely. And there were some of my
coworkers who would probably report me missing if I didn’t have a valid excuse
to not be there. I sighed. Maybe it was too soon to consider completely
dropping off the radar. As fun as it might be to disappear and be myself at all
times, it could be too risky.

           
It
was definitely something to consider for future reference, but for now… “Hello,
dear,” I said as I entered the house, holding the bouquet of flowers I picked
up on the drive home. “How about we go out to dinner tonight?”

SIXTEEN

Jason

           
Nickels was as good as his word.
Within the week he got approval from his boss for me to help with the case.
They also hit the dead end I predicted with the DNA found on Shawn’s knife.
There was no sample available for a match. They began the slow process of
running it though every database the precinct had access to, but almost a week
passed with nothing positive to show for it. So far no one else was reported
missing. Although, with his time frame so far, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t
grab someone else soon.

           
We
were at a standstill, so most of my time was spent at home or wandering the
woods. I didn’t expect to find anything, but walking the trails helped to
familiarize myself with the normal traffic in the woods. That way, if an
unfamiliar set of prints turned up and someone went missing, I might stand a
chance of following them to their hiding place. There were several times I was
able to put faces to the prints, and that was helpful as well.

           
The
week was difficult. I met with Shawn’s mom—who looked like an empty shell after
the death of her son—and finally realized how much Shawn meant to her. She
wasn’t putting on a show, pretending to care only while other people were
watching. She truly loved her son, and wanted him happy and safe. My heart
broke for her and Shawn. It wasn’t fair. A caring family shouldn’t be ripped
apart by this senseless act of violence. There was no purpose to his death,
nothing to be gained by it.

           
She
didn’t blame me. Sam was right about that. She thanked me for my time and
wouldn’t let me refuse payment, even when she paid more than was owed. When I
tried handing it back to her, she gave me a hard look. Nothing was said, but
the look told me not to fight her on it. So I nodded silently, and put the
money into my wallet.

           
I
tried to leave. The meeting felt awkward, and I wanted to get away from her
grief. Before I could get away she grabbed my arm, and pulled me in for a hug.
“Thank you for caring so much,” she whispered into my ear, tears dampening my
shoulder. I froze when she hugged me. The look on my face must have been one of
shock, because when she pulled away she gave me a small sad smile. It seemed
that her sadness wasn't only for her son. I stared after her as she left, and
wasn’t sure what to make of the exchange.

           
But
that was two days ago, and there was no more movement on the case. Nothing new
popped up in forensics, no name appeared on the DNA registry, and no one else
disappeared.

           
That’s
how I found myself once again wandering in the woods. Sam was at school, and
Nickels told me to take a break from staring at the files again. There was
nothing to be found. Besides the missing boys being from this area, they had
nothing else in common. They went to different schools, had different
interests, and were different ages and ethnicities. Including Shawn, there were
two Caucasians, one Hispanic and one African American. They ranged in age from
fifteen to twenty. But I was convinced they were connected. All had knife
wounds, and were found in the woods near the area Shawn was found. All were
missing for at least a week before they were killed, and were all found holding
a knife.

           
“Who’s
doing it?” I asked out loud, no one to hear me but the trees. “Why?” Needless
to say, the trees didn’t answer. Speaking out loud broke me from my thoughts,
and I turned back toward home. It was later than I intended, and I wanted to
get home before Sam was done with school. Until this case was solved, I didn’t
want him to walk home alone. Once again, I wasted most of the day on the
trails, nothing to show for my time but a headache.

           
My
phone rang when I got to the edge of the woods. When I picked up, Detective
Nickels sounded relieved. “Jason, I’ve been trying to get in touch. We have
another missing person. A boy disappeared from school. He was at all his
classes in the morning but didn’t show up to any of them after lunch. Some of
his friends got worried because he didn’t mention leaving early.”

           
“Where?
Which school?” I asked, feeling a little panicked.

           
“Lincoln
Middle School. The kid’s only fourteen. Come as soon as you can, I’m already
here.”

           
“Okay.
I’ll be there shortly.” Lincoln was Sam’s school, and I tried not to worry that
it was him, but I sprinted the last couple blocks to my house. I also sped the
entire way to the school, where I saw Nickels interviewing a teacher.

           
“Who’s
missing?” I asked Nickels as soon as he was done.

           
“Kid
named Caleb Larson. He was last seen at his history class. None of his friends
remember seeing him at lunch, and nobody has come forward to say he said
anything about willingly leaving early.”

           
I
let out a sigh when he said the name, and he looked at me oddly. “Something I
should know, Jason?”

           
“Sorry.
My brother goes to school here, so when you said someone was missing…” I
trailed off.

           
“You
thought it might have been him. Gotcha. Does your brother know Caleb?”

           
I
shrugged. “The only friend of his I’ve met is Jake. He’s never mentioned Caleb,
but he’s nearly the same age.” I felt myself begin to shake, knowing it could
easily have been my brother missing from the school instead of another boy.

           
“It
wasn’t your brother, Jason,” Nickels assured me.

           
“Jason!”
Sam’s voice broke though the quiet murmur of voices in the hallway. He made his
way toward me, and paused at seeing me next to a police officer. “Are you
okay?” he asked softly.

           
I
looked at him in confusion. “I’m fine, Sammy,” I answered, aware of Nickels’
close scrutiny. I asked, “Do you know Caleb Larson?”

           
“Sure.
He was in my history class this morning. Haven’t seen him this afternoon. He’s
supposed to be in my Geography class, but didn’t show up.”

           
“Did
you talk to him at all today?” Nickels asked. I glared, but he ignored me,
focused on Sam’s answer.

           
Sam
glanced at me before answering. “I talked to him after class. He seemed upset
about something, and was way quieter than normal. I don’t know. I guess he
might have been nervous or scared. I couldn’t tell for sure. When I asked what
was wrong, he brushed me off. Not like he didn’t want to talk, but more like he
didn’t believe I cared enough to listen.”

           
“Why
would he think that?”

           
“Because
we aren’t really friends. I’ve only talked to him at school, about school
related stuff. Did something happen to him?”

           
Nickels
looked at me, allowing me to tell Sam whatever I wanted him to know. “We think
he’s gone missing. Nobody’s seen him since before lunch, and he’s not at home.”

           
Sam
looked at me like he wanted to ask more, but refrained when he saw how closely
Nickels was watching our interaction. “Anyway, I should let you guys get back
to work,” he said with a wave. “I have to get to my locker and put my stuff
away. See you at home?” he asked.

           
“Yeah.
See if Jake’s parents will give you a ride. Let them know I can pick you up
from their house later if they don’t want to take you home, okay?”

           
“Yup.
See you later,” he said with a wave as he headed to his next class.

           
“What
now?” I asked, returning my attention to the oddly patient detective.

           
Before
answering, Nickels returned his notebook to his pants pocket and looked around
thoughtfully. “Now we’ll leave some officers here to continue getting
statements, while you and I go talk to Caleb’s parents. They know we’re coming,
and I want you to look around the yard and neighborhood to see if you notice
anything that could indicate someone watching him.”

           
“No
problem,” I hoped my relief didn’t show too much. Since Caleb disappeared
today, his prints should be easy enough to pick out from his yard. The echoes
would be of sufficient strength to pick out the unique pattern. Nickels handed
me the perfect opportunity to find Caleb’s prints, without letting the
detective know what I was doing.

           
We
decided to take Nickels’ squad car, and he would drop me off by my car later. I
could feel him sneaking peaks at me as I looked out the window at the passing
scenery. “What?” I finally snapped, looking at him. “What is it you’re so
interested in?”

           
“That
was your brother, huh?” he started. “I didn’t know until the day in the file room
you even had a brother.” His tone was nonchalant, but the relaxed attitude was
so obviously forced that I wondered why he bothered.

           
Wondering
where he was going to go with this I said. “Yeah, I have a brother. Never said
I didn’t.”

           
“Never
said you did either,” he shot back. “Why so secretive? It’s not like you having
a brother is a big deal. Most people talk about their families, at least a
little, but you make it a point to never mention anything personal. I’ve been
trying not to push, but I am a detective. Curiosity is part of the gig.” He
shrugged apologetically, and I squirmed in my seat looking away from him to the
passing scenery.

           
Hiding
my past was almost as natural to me as running. If no one knew, it couldn’t
hurt me anymore. I shrank down in the seat, and looked down at my feet. “I
don’t like to talk about the past. It’s over. Nothing worth retelling.”

           
Nickels
snorted, “I doubt that. Whatever you’ve been through that you don’t want to
talk about, I bet it’s something people who care about you would like to hear.”

           
It
was my turn to snort, as I met his gaze and said, “There aren’t many of those
around.”

           
Luckily
for me, our conversation ground to a halt when we parked outside the missing
boy’s home. I expected the car ride to consist of a back and forth about what
might have happened to Caleb, but once again Nickels showed more interest in my
past. “What do you want me to do?” I ignored the concerned look in his eyes,
and got down to business.

           
“Look
around the property, and any surrounding properties that have any kind of view
of Caleb’s house. See if there’s any sign of a lookout station or perch where
someone could have been watching this kid before grabbing him.”

           
He
must have seen my confusion, because he added, “I know nothing was in the files
about the victims being watched. But if you think about it, they were all
grabbed when they were completely alone, and in different areas of town. I
doubt this guy is simply an opportunist. I would bet he watches them, at least
for a little while. There may be nothing, but just humor me, okay?”

           
“You’re
the boss.” I would keep an eye out for what he asked, but filing Caleb’s
footsteps came first. Once I had those, I would attempt to find other clues.

           
There
was a moment of silence as we contemplated the quiet home in front of us. I
found myself wondering, if their son had gone missing, why weren’t the parents
rushing out to us to see if we had any news? Scanning the house, I saw that it
was at least minimally kept up. The paint was in good shape, and there were
flower beds along the front of the house and lining the front walkway. But,
looking more closely, there were weeds choking out the flowers not easily seen
from the road. The backyard, what I could see of it anyway, seemed to be
overgrown. Like they were keeping up appearances for the neighbors, but not
willing to put in the effort to properly care for their home.

           
Nickels
patted my shoulder briefly when he stepped toward the house. “Let me know if
you find anything. Come join me when you’re done.”

           
Wandering
around the side toward the back confirmed that they didn’t spend time taking
care of the property. I noticed a shed in the back of the fenced-in yard, and
it made me shudder. The last shed I was in was a horrible experience; the fear
returned any time I saw one. With difficulty I managed to pry my eyes away from
the little building and look around. There was a worn path through the
knee-high grass that led from the back door to the shed, and I knelt to feel
out the footsteps of those who used it.

           
Closing
my eyes to concentrate, I was assaulted by multiple echoes of frantic
footsteps. Trying to distinguish between them at this point would be nearly
impossible, and I very much did
not
want to look in the shed. None of
the steps were from today, so my hesitation wasn’t for fear that someone would
be in the shed, but that there would be evidence of something I really didn’t
want to see.