Chapter 20: Chapter 20

Detectives Russo and Mason stand on Table Bridge, overlooking the gem-blue stream in the forest. It seems to seep and dribble as it swerves through the trees, polishing timeworn rocks.

The rivers are the arteries of the forest that flow through its foundations. And this one is sparkling like tinsel.

“This is where the trail goes cold.”

The water levels are low, exposing the skeleton of the river bed, stones jutting out like ribs from the surface.

The water babbles and burbles, springing over the limestone rocks in its way. Pebbles whisk about in the under wash like pieces of glitter, the liquid soul of the glade aglow.

Russo breathes in the crisp air. “It’s peaceful up here.”

“During summer and spring, perhaps.” Mason swings his arm over the edge like he’s going to throw something. “You should see it in winter. This entire place becomes a flood zone.”

A thought prods at his mind. “And you are certain they stopped here? They never crossed the bridge to the other side?”

Mason points back to the path they came from.

“Forensics found a treasure trove of information in these parts and focused on it.” He walks back, gesticulating as he speaks, his hands indicating certain spots.

“Tracks are very pronounced after rains when the ground is muddy or moist. And their shoe prints were pretty fresh, leading all the way here.

“Not to mention there were bountiful signs of disturbances and other indications that the area had been trampled over. As well as traces of blood.”

Russo remains skeptical, surveying the area with an incredulous look.

“We had a team do an in-depth analysis,” Mason adds, “and an entire grid search over the area before being authorized to do a wider search and expand further west.”

“This forest is vast,” Russo says, walking across the bridge to pass him. “There’s a lot of ground to cover. It would be very easy to miss something. Evidence degrading from the weather, rain—”

He stops at the foot of the bridge. Russo swivels around and looks back at it like it’s his first time seeing it.

“What?” Mason asks.

A synapse fires in his brain.

“You said that this place becomes like a flood zone during the winter. What if Erin fell?”

He raises a hand to the bridge.

“The bridge has no barriers of any kind. If their tracks end here, there could be a valid reason why. Perhaps she slipped if she was not pushed?”

“You think no one thought of that already?” Mason says, sounding offended.

“Erin disappeared near the summer solstice. The water levels were as low as they are now. And they did a sweep of the river just in case and they turned up nothing.”

Frustration pinches the corners of Russo’s face and makes his way down the path.

Mason follows as if he wasn’t the one that led him up there.

“I looked into that kid you asked about.”

“Aries?” Russo says, his voice sharpening with interest. “What did you find?”

“He’s clean, no record. The award-winning number of speeding tickets is the only brush he has with the law,” Mason informs him, relaying objective facts.

“However, he runs with a lot of heavy hitters, associated with people in gangs with rap sheets a mile long.”

“He’s hanging with convicted felons?”

“Call it a residential hazard. The kid grew up in the Badlands. Just because he knows gang bangers doesn’t mean he is one. And no discrepancies came up in his financials.”

“You sure?” Russo’s eyes, combing through the uneven terrain, seamed with furrows.

“He dropped out of school and now he works at a warehouse. And his grandmother is a retired nurse living on her pension. And yet somehow could afford to buy a car worth one point two million?”

“His grandfather’s insurance,” Mason advocates. “When he died, he left them a small fortune. It can be argued that he could’ve spent the money better.”

“And it was enough to buy the car, pay the mortgage over the house, and settle his account with Braidwood General? The treatment for his grandmother came to a staggering sum.”

“And their inheritance clearly was adequate enough to cancel her debt.”

The detectives make their way down the gorge, descending in a neutral silence.

Chords of soft light spear down from above, bathing the surface in a green-gold. Russo views the scene, trying to envisage the night Erin disappeared.

His mind plays out the simulation in his head, his eyes projecting the artificial reality, imagining the younger versions of Mia and her friends. All of them playing in the woods.

~What inspired them to come this far north?~

The only theory that makes sense to him is the involvement of a third party. A nexus he isn’t able to see just yet, someone who knew both Erin and her former friends.

It could’ve been a child predator that befriended her and took her to the one place she was most vulnerable.

Which explains why those kids were out there until late, claiming that they were searching for her because she had just vanished into thin air.

And if it was a predator, he probably used the woods to foster a relationship with her, gain her trust in private.

There would be no digital proof of their interactions. The only surveillance they have is pod footage on the road and everything dating back six months of her disappearance—to a year—has been cleared of any suspicious activity.

Something eerie gnaws at him that those kids are somehow complicit, that they know or saw more than what they’ve been telling.

When the news of Erin’s vanishing first made it to papers, it sent a turbulence through the town like no other, a story that moved the stoniest of hearts.

Those kids were the subject of every conversation, bombarded by reporters and other detectives, all of them wanting to uncover the truth about that fateful night.

The night that altered the fabric of Braidwood forever, darkening its fibers.

Russo approaches his car parked on the side of the road. Mason’s vehicle is right behind his.

“Back to the precinct?”

“I have to make a stop first.”

***

Angie Venus opens the front door.

“Detective Russo?”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Venus. I know I should’ve called and arranged a sit-down, but something has been bugging me.”

She widens the door without a thought. “I told you before that if you need anything, it’s yours. Including my time, so come on inside.”

“Thank you.”

He enters and walks ahead to the blue and white living room.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“No, I will be brief.”

Russo moves to occupy the armchair and Angie settles on the long couch.

“Do you have any updates?”

He shakes his head grimly. “Just more questions.”

Angie swallows her disappointment. “Go ahead.”

“I remember reading from the initial report, the statement of one of the officers, Jim Cassidy. He said that when the children were reported missing, you advised the precinct to check the woods. How did you know that?”

“It was new information to me, too, then.” Angie gazes off into the distance, replaying the memories in her mind.

“I had only found out after that night that the kids were running off into the woods. Keila never told me.

“The other moms weren’t surprised. We would often trade kids on the weekends, some Fridays, even weekdays. I would host their sleepovers or Katherine would, but mostly Irene did.

“I always assumed they were just playing in the backyard or watching TV, not taking jaunts into the woods on their own.”

A glimmer of surprise in his eyes.

“What?”

“So why were you the one to tip them off if you only found out prior to Erin’s disappearance? And even suggested where to look. How would you have known?”

“I didn’t.” Many creases appear on her face, deepening from thought.

“I didn’t,” she confirms with fixed certainty. “Irene was the one that told me and I relayed that info to the police.”

“Why didn’t she?”

“Because she didn’t know they were missing.”

Russo sends her a dubious look that demands an elucidation.

She sighs and explains, “It was not uncommon for those kids to come home late. After school, they’d sometimes all meet at one of our houses, and sometimes stayed over for dinner.

“That was common at Jada’s restaurant. They’d always manage to get her to serve them free meals at least once a week. So I wasn’t alarmed that night when it was getting late, not immediately.”

New pathways are opening up his mind, expanding his tunnel vision.

“When did you notice something was awry?”

“I called to check in. I didn’t like her out too late on a school night. I first asked Jada if they were there and she told me she thought I had them.

“I checked with Katherine, and she panicked and the panic train continued to Irene. By then, I had already called the cops before because Irene didn’t pick up the phone the first time.”

It is at this moment that he realizes how narrow his focus has been on the case.

“After a while, she called back. I asked if she had our kids. She said no. Then she suggested we check the woods because she had recently found out that they liked to play there.

“Katherine concurred and said she was in such a panic she didn’t even consider the woods or that they would be out there so late.”

“Have you spoken to Katherine lately?”

Angie twists her wedding ring around. “I reached out. She ignored my invite—all of them. She lost both of her husbands and then her child. I can’t even imagine her pain.”

“And do you know where she resides now?”

“The last I heard is that she sold her late husband’s house to move back in with her parents. I don’t know much, but they live out of town. I guess she wanted a fresh start.”

Russo nearly scoffs at that, for he knows that after losing a kid, no matter the distance, no matter the time, there will never be a fresh start.

He gets to his feet. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Venus.”

She escorts him out. His phone rings in the passageway.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and slips out his phone. And answers without looking. “Detective Russo—”

“Russo, you wouldn’t believe what just came in, man.”

“What?”

Angie walks ahead so she can hold the door open for him.

“The magistrate believed your appeal establishes probable cause to conduct a search and seizure.”

“He issued the warrant?”

“The stubborn bastard finally let up. Ready to give Dr. Parker another visit?”

***

The elevator dings open.

Russo marches out with Mason in tow. The receptionist has already been notified and has warned the good doctor of the incoming. Russo heads to the last door and knocks twice, this time waiting for her permission.

“Come in, Detective.”

Russo breezes inside. He sees the lounge area is empty. Dr. Parker sits behind the desk with two large boxes set on top, obscuring their vision of her. She stands up with her fingers splayed on the desk.

“This is everything I have on the Erin Lockwood case. Recordings of my sessions with the kids individually, together, and some with their parents. Along with my personal notes and other clinical papers.”

“Thanks, doc.”

“You’re welcome, Detective Taylor,” she says, offering Mason a friendly smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“I wish it were under better circumstances. But it never is.”

She glances back at Russo and her smile wilts. “Indeed.”

Russo takes the other box as if claiming his long-awaited prize. He withholds his thanks, seeing no need to express gratitude toward someone who was compelled to help.

He turns around and follows Mason out like he had just won the lottery.

***

~That day I held death in my arms, holding Pandora’s box.~

~The truth was alive among those pages and it had me thinking. Any decent cop or detective could’ve figured it out. The truth was staring them in the face. I suppose fear blinded them to it.~

~No one could stomach the truth of Braidwood not being a home of small-town glory. The perfect place to raise kids, retire, a piece of paradise.~

~The truth was there all along, as unfathomable as it is—I nearly denied it myself.~

~But not every boy in blue had my mettle—my will. Once I start, I never stop. I cannot move on with my life until I have laid a case to rest. Some were out of my control, others were not.~

~And that’s how I felt about Erin. I clung to the delusional belief that it was meant to be me who would bring her home. Whether it be a body or the truth of what happened to her.~

~I knew that in order to find Keila, I had to figure out what happened to Erin first. And the clues were scattered in those files that paved the way to the point of no return.~