Profile of Evil Read online

"Did you ever check her iPhone or her laptop to find out who she was communicating with?"

  Mrs. Jenkins shrugged her shoulders. "Both were way too technical for someone like me. I never tried to do anything like that."

  "What else did she take with her?"

  Mrs. Jenkins opened a closet door filled with clothes. "She only took as much as she could cram into a duffle bag and her backpack."

  "One more question. Did Amanda ever mention Sophia Bradford?"

  "I've never heard the name."

  "Are you sure Amanda never mentioned her?"

  "I'm positive. I wanted Amanda to have friends. I would remember."

  <><><>

  Cameron Chase pulled his unmarked SUV in front of a red brick apartment complex called Lakeshore Dunes. Finding building number four, he parked and searched for apartment 4D.

  As he approached the building, he noticed an attractive woman in her forties standing outside the building, smoking a cigarette. "Are you the cop from Shawnee County?" she asked.

  "Yes, I'm Detective Cameron Chase. You must be Tillie Bradford."

  She nodded as she ground out her cigarette with the toe of her shoe. "You said you had some questions for me about Sophia. Let's go upstairs and talk."

  Once upstairs, she led him into her apartment and into a cozy, yellow kitchen, where a pot of coffee was brewing. Tillie motioned for Cameron to sit down at the kitchen table. After she filled two mugs with hot coffee, she joined him.

  Before he had a chance to ask her a question, Tillie began talking. "I worked late that night. I was so tired when I got home that I went straight to bed. I always check on my girls before I go to bed, but not that night. Maybe if I'd checked on Sophia, I could have called the police sooner and she wouldn't have had such a head start." She paused for a second and crossed her arms across herself as if she were cold. "I got up the next morning, and Olivia, my oldest daughter, was making scrambled eggs with shredded cheese, just the way Sophia likes them. So I opened her bedroom door to tell her that breakfast was almost ready. That's when I saw her bed had not been slept in, and that some of her clothes were missing, along with her laptop and cell phone. I ran downstairs to the parking lot. Olivia's red Toyota was gone. I had this horrible feeling I'd never see Sophia again. I was right."

  "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bradford." Cameron loved every aspect of his job, except this one. Talking to a parent who had just lost a child was the toughest thing he had to do. It was one of the few times he felt utterly helpless. What could one say to make a parent feel better? Nothing.

  "Ask me your questions, Detective Chase. Ask them and leave. I have a funeral to prepare for."

  "Why did Sophia run away?"

  "I don't know. We were making a new start. I'd just divorced her no-good father and things were getting better. I had a new job. I thought, as a family, we'd be much happier. But Sophia wasn't happy, and she wouldn't tell me why." Tillie got up, grabbed the coffee pot, and refilled their mugs.

  "Was Sophia upset about the divorce? Did she miss her father?" Cameron asked.

  "No, I don't think Sophia missed her father or the frequent beatings he delivered to all three of us whenever he got drunk."

  "What was Sophia doing that led you to believe she wasn't happy?" Cameron asked.

  "She stopped talking to her sister and me. Until a couple of months before she disappeared, Sophia was a chatterbox. That girl could talk and giggle and talk some more. You couldn't shut her up. Sophia was pretty and always had a lot of friends. Then, suddenly, she became quiet and withdrawn. She stopped getting calls on her cell. Sophia dropped her after-school activities, clubs, and friends, and came straight home to her laptop. She'd be in her bedroom on that thing for hours."

  "Do you know what sites she was visiting on her laptop?”

  "No, I give my kids privacy. I don't pry. One night, I walked into her bedroom unannounced and Sophia quickly folded her laptop shut so I couldn't see. Maybe I should have asked, but I gave Sophia her space."

  "Do you think she was communicating to someone?"

  "I think so, but I don't know for sure. There was one thing odd that happened though. I brought in the mail one day and there was a package for Sophia. She grabbed it from my hand, ran to her bedroom and locked the door."

  "What was in the package?"

  "I found out later it was a web cam. Sophia could never afford to buy something like that, but I never found out who sent it to her."

  <><><>

  With her ear against her bedroom door, Alison listened for any sounds in the hallway that indicated her mother and stepfather were awake. It was four o'clock in the morning on a Saturday. No one in their right minds would be up that early. Certainly not her mother, who liked to sleep late on weekends. Moving quietly back to her bed, she checked her suitcase one more time. Satisfied she had everything packed that she'd need, she carefully put her HP laptop inside and zipped the suitcase closed.

  Alison strapped on her cross-body purse, opening it one more time to make sure she'd put money in her wallet. She'd saved her weekly allowance for two full months, and if that wasn't enough, she'd emptied her stepfather's wallet. He owed her that much, if not more, for the way he treated her. Alison slipped the bus ticket Anthony had sent her into a zippered compartment, and then closed her purse. Everything was in order. It was time.

  Slowly opening the door, Alison crept down the hallway with the heavy suitcase and down the stairs. At the front door, she paused momentarily. She was eager to leave her school bullies and pervert stepfather, but leaving her mom was another thing. Maybe someday, Alison and Anthony would come back to visit and her mother would be so happy to see her that she'd forgive her for running away.

  Alison locked the front door and began the ten-block walk to the bus station.

  <><><>

  By the time Brody reached Mollie's Cafe where he'd promised to meet Cameron, it was six o'clock and the dinner crowd had descended upon the small restaurant. All tables and booths were filled, so as he waited for an opening, he gazed out the window.

  Mollie's Cafe had the best comfort food in town, not that Brody needed comforting, and certainly not by Mollie. He turned and spotted her back by the kitchen door and thought of a time long ago when he couldn't wait to see her.

  Mollie was Cameron's best friend and a frequent guest at their home. She was a bubbly, red-haired knockout, and Brody couldn't believe his luck when she said yes to their first date. They'd dated all through his senior year. Most people thought they'd marry after high school, as did he. But then things changed.

  Brody was nineteen-years-old when his mother died suddenly. As if the shock of losing her weren’t enough, the child welfare people threatened to put his brothers into foster homes. With help from family friends, Brody convinced them he could care for his brothers. So they all stayed in the family home, and Brody became a stand-in mom and dad, working a full-time job and attending the police academy at night.

  Brody remembered how the mountain of responsibility became heavy on his young shoulders, and time was a precious commodity he never had enough of. Soon he told Mollie he couldn't see her anymore. Who had time for movies, ball games and dances, when he had two brothers to raise? Brody knew he'd broken her heart, and suspected she'd never forgiven him.

  A few years later, Mollie turned eighteen and learned she was pregnant after her high school graduation party. Cameron told Brody she was devastated. She had a college scholarship and had just been accepted at Purdue. A pregnancy didn't enter into her plans.

  She married Will Destin and gave birth to a baby girl she named Hailey. Six months later, Mollie became a widow when Will's truck was hit by a freight train speeding to Chicago. She'd never remarried, and every time he saw her, Brody felt guilty that the feelings he once had for her were gone.

  A light punch to his arm let him know his younger brother had arrived.

  "What are you thinking about, Brody?" Cameron asked. "You look like you're in the Twilight Zone."

&nb
sp; "I'm back now," Brody said with a grin.

  Mollie approached them with two menus tucked under her arm. "If it isn't the handsome Chase brothers. I've got a booth over here with your names on it."

  She led them to a booth and handed them each a menu. "The special tonight is meatloaf with mashed potatoes, if you're interested."

  "My favorite. Sign me up," said Cameron as he returned Mollie's smile.

  "Me, too," Brody agreed.

  As soon as she returned to the kitchen, Brody related what he'd learned in Terre Haute. "Amanda Jenkins' grandmother, Ellen, said that the girl was having a tough time just before she ran away. Amanda had lost her parents in a traffic accident and had to move in with her grandmother and change schools. She was being bullied at school, and Ellen didn't think she'd made any friends."

  "Did you ask her if Amanda had mentioned Sophia Bradford?" asked Cameron.

  "Yes. Her grandmother didn't recognize the name. But that doesn't mean there isn't a connection between the two girls. We just haven't found it."

  "Right. Were you able to get Amanda's computer equipment? We can learn a lot by studying where she went on the web."

  Brody shook his head, "No luck. It seems she took her laptop with her, as well as her iPhone, when she left."

  "I didn't have any luck with that either," Cameron added. "Sophia took her laptop with her, too."

  "Damn it. I was counting on getting those laptops." Brody expelled a long, tired breath.

  "I'm not sure how much good we would have gained getting the laptops. Since Kent Fillion left, we don't have anyone certified in forensic computer technology to examine them," said Cameron.

  Brody rolled his eyes and said, "Here it comes."

  "You know I'm right about this, Brody. You're just too stubborn to admit it. There's no one in this county who has the talent and expertise that Gabe has when it comes to computers. Ask him to consult."

  "Don't we need the laptops first?"

  "Don't know. Ask Gabe."

  "I'll think about it," Brody said before he changed the subject. "Did Sophia's mother know why she ran away?"

  "No. Tillie is one of those mothers who respects her kid's privacy a little too much. She didn't ask questions. She said Sophia was spending a lot of time on her laptop in her bedroom behind closed doors. It didn't sound like she wanted her mother to know what she was doing on it."

  "Did you learn anything else?" Brody wanted to know.

  "Yeah. Her mother thought that whoever Sophia was communicating with online had sent her a web cam as a gift."

  "I'll call Amanda's grandmother to see if she received any gifts," Brody said. "You know what that sounds like."

  "Online predator," Cameron answered. "It's in their DNA to want photos or videotapes of their victims."

  "Damn it. Just what the county needs," Brody moaned as he scrubbed his face with his hands. "What kind of a monster snuffs out the lives of two preadolescent girls with a bullet to each of their brains? Why? What had they done to earn his death sentence?"

  "We need help on this one, Brody." Cameron voiced firmly.

  "I already told you. I don't want the FBI..."

  "That's not what I'm suggesting," Cameron interrupted. "We could get a consultant who can identify the major personality and behavioral characteristics of our offender to pare down the list of suspects."

  "You mean a profiler?"

  "We need someone with experience preparing a criminal personality profile, so we can narrow down suspects and improve our chances of catching the sick bastard."

  "I think Sheriff Brennan hired someone like that last year when he had all those murders in his state parks. I'll email him and get a name," said Brody.

  Cameron nodded, then shot Brody a worried look and whispered, "If the killings are connected, like we think they are, that's four girls who were murdered."

  "I keep wondering, why here?" Brody said. "Why Shawnee County?"

  "I want answers to the same question," Cameron returned.

  "Amanda Jenkins had been missing a year and a half, while Sophia Bradford had run away nine months ago. Where did our killer keep the girls all that time? Did he hide them in Shawnee County? Does he live here? Or does Shawnee County have his favorite dump sites?"

  The discussion abruptly stopped when Mollie brought their food. "Hope you're hungry. The cook gave you extra helpings."

  "Thank her for us," said Cameron, as he flashed Mollie a warm smile.

  Mollie leaned toward Cameron and rubbed his shoulder affectionately. "You're very welcome."

  As soon as she left, Brody said, "What was that?"

  "What was what?" Cameron responded as he shoved a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

  "You know what," Brody insisted as he cut his meatloaf into small squares.

  Cameron shrugged and shook his head. "No, I don't."

  "Bull. What's with the shoulder rub?"

  Looking down at his food, Cameron grinned. "Don't know."

  "You do, too. There was also a look."

  "What?"

  "You definitely gave her a look," Brody accused.

  "You have an active imagination, bro," Cameron said, a flash of humor crossing his face.

  "Are you and Mollie ...?"

  Cameron cut him off. "How would you feel about it if we were involved?"

  "Honestly, I'd be relieved. You don't know what it's like to carry around guilt for all these years because I hurt her."

  "Why haven't you tried to get back with Mollie?"

  "The feelings I once had for her aren't there anymore. I don't know what happened, but they just aren't. I'd only end up hurting her again."

  "Okay, then I'll consider that an all-clear," said Cameron.

  "You're kidding. Are you saying you're attracted to Mollie, but was waiting to make a move because I dated her eighteen years ago?"

  Cameron just shrugged and finished off his meatloaf.

  <><><>

  Lurking in the shadows at the Greyhound bus station was the last place on earth he should be, especially on a Saturday when the rest of the world was off work, too. Being seen here could mean the end of his career and life as he knew it, but he couldn't stay away. His urges were too strong, and there were too many things that could go wrong. He couldn't afford any more stupid mistakes. The next one could be their last. It had been too long since the last time he had the rough, handcuffed, whip-to-flesh-until-she-bled kind of sex he craved. Too damn long.

  Besides, he was excited about his new thirteen-year-old slave. He felt like he did at Christmas long ago, when his daddy had promised a new bike. He was itching with eagerness. That is, until Christmas Day arrived and Mom told him that his daddy had spent the money in the jar saved for the bike on booze.

  He watched as his sister, Erin, stood near the door where the passengers departing the Greyhound bus from Indianapolis would file through. She kept looking at the security camera near the door. She was such a moron. He'd told his sister a half-dozen times that old Ernie McBride was a skin-flint who wouldn't put out money on a security system if his life depended on it. Ernie had told him as much last month when he ran into him in the hardware store on Main Street.

  He studied his sister. Erin had changed a lot in recent years, and not in a good way. She was only twenty-six years old, yet she looked twice that age. Twenty pounds overweight, she had a habit of choosing the plainest, loosest hanging clothes she could find, as if she were trying to blend in with her surroundings. Today she had on a black hoodie with a pair of loose gray sweats and an old pair of sneakers.

  Dear old dad had done a number on his little sister when they were kids. The second he arrived home drunk, he'd head for Erin's bedroom. Her screams were so loud, he had to cover his head with his pillow so he wouldn't hear them. He wondered if his mother was doing the same. Not once did she try to stop him. Not once. When he'd moved to Indiana from Utah, he couldn't leave Erin behind, so he packed her up and brought her with him.

  A bus ro
lled to a stop outside, and the crowd waiting for passengers moved closer to the door. Erin, holding her shoulder bag close, also inched closer.

  <><><>

  Her mouth curved into an unconscious smile the moment Alison spotted the sign announcing Morel city limits. She'd made it. She was in Morel, Indiana, and minutes from throwing herself into Anthony's arms.

  The driver slowed the bus as they drove through the Main Street downtown area, the tires bumping as it navigated the brick-lined street. Colorful renovated shops and restaurants lined the street, and Alison examined both sides. A red-striped awning graced the front of a floral shop. Mollie's Cafe boasted a neon light in the front glass window, and the window of a women's apparel shop had a large yellow sale sign. Anthony told her that his mom owned a teen clothing shop and she could work there after school, but she didn't see it.

  Alison was a bit nervous about meeting Anthony's mother and prayed she would like her. It was so kind of his mom to let her stay with them until she finished school. Anthony said his mom had spent hours fixing up a bedroom suite for her in the basement. He said Alison could decorate it any way she wanted.

  Finally the bus rolled into the Greyhound station at Morel, and Alison wanted to leap from her seat and cheer. She thought the ride would never end. All she could think about was her Anthony and how much she loved him. She turned on her iPhone to gaze at his photo. He was the hottest boy she'd ever seen. None of the boys at her school even came close. She'd see him soon, for the first time, and the excitement was almost too much for her to bear. Turning off her iPhone, she threw it into her backpack per Anthony's instructions. Alison was supposed to have done this back in Indy, but she'd forgotten until now. Anthony had reminded her that her stepfather could find her through her phone's GPS, and that it was best she got rid of it.

  The bus driver handed Alison her rolling blue suitcase, and she followed the others to the station. She strained her neck to see around the people in line to the ones inside the station, but didn't see Anthony. Where was he? The line moved slowly, causing her to shuffle along behind the travelers in front of her. Inching closer to the open station door, she again scanned the area looking for Anthony but still did not find him in the crowd.