CAME A SHADOW (The Shadow Trilogy Book 1) Page 4

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll be in touch.” She hung up.

  Brad rejoined Samantha. She sat with her eyes closed, mumbling: “Please God, let my baby be all right. I'll do anything if you'll just let her come home to me unharmed. Please God … please … forgive me.”

  Two hours after becoming aware of Sophie’s disappearance, Brad joined a search party made up of forty of his father’s friends and neighbors armed with flashlights. They formed a line stretching for three hundred yards.

  They began by thoroughly scouring the yard, then the surrounding fields, then the road and roadsides for miles in both directions. They were looking for anything that might indicate the manner of her abduction, the direction she’d been taken, anything at all.

  The weather worked against their efforts. A wind had developed, turning the already frigid weather bitter, and the drifting snow effectively obscured any tire or foot prints that might have existed. By midnight, the search party had turned up nothing of substance. Deputy Torrens called them together. "We'll call it a night, folks," he said in a somber voice. "Those of you that can make it, meet back here at seven o'clock in the morning."

  Brad approached Torrens, numbed more by despair than the weather. "Please, can we keep looking just a little longer? Please." The prospect of returning home to face Samantha with nothing positive to report was the most depressing thing he could imagine.

  Torrens was tall, baby-faced, and already going to fat in his late twenties. He was also obviously suffering from a bad head cold. Looking at Brad, he appeared sympathetic but resolute. "I'm sorry, Mr. Crandall,” he said, “but these folks are about done in. Quite frankly, sir, we're not going to accomplish anything more out here tonight."

  "But I can't … I … please …"

  "Try to get some rest, sir. We'll be back at first light."

  Several of the searchers offered quiet words of support as they dispersed. It was all Brad could do not to curse them. It was obvious that they had given up. He could see it in their postures - the slumped shoulders and hung heads.

  He drove back to the house with tears stinging his eyes. Samantha and Bert were waiting by the door when he arrived. Bert held a protective arm around Samantha’s shoulders. Her hands were clasped in front of her chin, as if she were praying. She searched Brad’s eyes, silently pleading with him to impart any news that could at least give her a particle of hope.

  But as much as Brad wished he could offer up something positive, he couldn’t lie. "Nothing," he said quietly.

  Samantha made a small mewling sound, like a wounded animal, then turned and ran from the room.

  Brad watched, powerless to stop her and knowing it was pointless to try. In a moment he heard the pounding of her footsteps on the stairs and, soon after, the ominous sound of the bedroom door banging shut.

  ****

  At 2 a.m., slumped at the kitchen table, exhausted and bleary-eyed, Brad was still unable to yield to sleep. Bert set a mug of hot cocoa in front of him. "Drink this, son, it'll do you good."

  "What the hell is the world coming to, Dad?” Brad mumbled. “How could this happen … here of all places?"

  Bert sighed deeply. "I don't know, son. But I'll tell you this, by God … if it takes everything I've got in this world I'll find the bastard that did this." He turned away as his voice cracked with emotion.

  Brad watched his father, too proud to exhibit his feelings, face the window and wipe tears from his eyes.

  The sound of officer Harder's light snoring carried into the kitchen from the living room couch where she slept.

  Bert put his hands on the kitchen table and pushed himself slowly from his chair. "I've got to lay down, son," he said gently. "You should do the same, try to get a little sleep before light.”

  Brad nodded.

  “We’re going to get her back,” Bert said. “I promise.” He gave Brad’s shoulder a light squeeze, a small act of solace.

  Brad looked up. “Do you really believe that?”

  Bert stared deeply into his son’s eyes. “I have to believe it,” he whispered, “and so do you.”

  Bert shuffled off, leaving Brad alone.

  Brad tried not to imagine what horror Sophie might be suffering through, if in fact she was even alive. Tears welled up. He covered his eyes with the palms of his hands and allowed himself, finally, to cry.

  Time passed. Exhaustion finally overtook him.

  He stood, left the kitchen, and climbed the stairs to the guestroom he and Samantha shared. His legs felt five times their normal weight.

  When he got to the bedroom door he found it locked. He put his ear to the door, stood listening, almost certain he could hear the muffled sounds of Samantha’s sobs. “Sam,” he whispered.

  There was no response.

  He waited a moment, then went quietly down the hall to the room Sophie had been occupying - the one that had been his bedroom as a boy.

  He stretched out on the bed, inhaled Sophie’s scent.

  He awoke with a start. Gray morning light was filtering into the bedroom and he could hear sounds of movement downstairs. He rose, washed quickly without shaving, and took the stairs down to the kitchen.

  Bert and Officer Harder were drinking coffee. Bert nodded silently while Harder’s eyes followed Brad’s movements warily. Like he was a condemned man - someone to be pitied but, at the same time, watched closely.

  Samantha stood at the window, looking out on the yard, lost in thought. She held the fingers of both hands pressed tightly against her closed lips, as though she meant to hold back the scream that waited to erupt. Brad approached her back, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Sam, honey,” he said softly.

  Stirred from her reverie, she jerked away from his touch and ran from the room.

  ****

  Ground and helicopter search efforts continued throughout the morning. By lunchtime, neither those nor the road blocks had resulted in any leads. The County Sheriff's Department, simultaneously interviewing all residents within a two mile radius of the farm and attempting to locate and interview anyone with a criminal record known to reside in the area, had met with no success either.

  By afternoon the civilian search party had called it quits. There was simply nowhere else to look without something to go on.

  CHAPTER 6

  Special Agent Jack Parmenter sat at his desk, a telephone cradled on his left shoulder and held in place by his chin, leaving both hands free to operate his computer keyboard. "Okay, Chief," he said, "the child's photograph and details of the disappearance are in the Bureau's national computer. Every FBI office in the country will have the information within minutes."

  "Is there anything you can suggest we do until you get here?" Callie asked. "Frankly, I’m feeling like I should be doing something else but I can’t imagine what."

  "You mentioned interviews were being conducted with all known felons in the area. Any progress there yet?"

  "Not yet. The County Sheriff's people out of South Paris have made it number one priority; they've got every available officer on it. But even here there's a surprising number of names to run down."

  "How's the family holding up?"

  "About what you'd expect. Mrs. Crandall is in shock. Her husband is putting up a tough front but they're taking it hard." Callie chewed her lower lip, looking at the picture of Sophie she had faxed to the FBI office earlier. "She was such a cute little thing. It must be absolutely heartbreaking for them."

  "Well, I should be in Colville by six. I'll see you then." Jack hung up. I wonder if she realizes she just referred to the child in the past tense, he thought.

  ****

  Callie rested both elbows on her desk, cradling a blisteringly hot cup of coffee with both hands, and watched Jack drop four sugar cubes and what seemed like half a pint of cream into his own coffee. Not bad looking for an older man, she thought idly. Self assured and competent, but not pushy. Without even knowing him, I like him already.

  There was little about
Jack Parmenter that resembled the television or movie version of federal agents. Absent were the Armani suit, silk shirt, and Guccis. His attire consisted of jeans, winter boots, and a warm flannel shirt over a thick white tee shirt. His parka, hanging from a coat hook in the corner, looked made to withstand anything Maine was likely to dish out.

  He looked up from his cup and ran a hand through his graying hair. "I know … I should cut down on the cream and sugar. My dad always used to say I liked my coffee the way he liked his women - sweet and blond."

  Callie smiled. "I hope your mom is a blond."

  "As a matter of fact she is ... or I should say was. She's pretty much a white hair these days." He took a large, noisy slurp of coffee. "Chief Henderson, as you know---"

  "Please ... call me Callie. We don't stand much on formality around here."

  "I’m Jack - not much on formality either,” he said. He touched his cup to hers to acknowledge their agreement. “As you know, the Bureau has a well-deserved reputation for taking over when it becomes involved in a case. It does little to endear us to the hearts of other law enforcement agencies I’m afraid. The department I'm with, though, is a little different. It operates on a support basis. My sole concern is getting this little girl back home safely. I have absolutely no interest in seeking publicity or taking credit for anything we might accomplish. Understood?”

  Callie nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’m just a little surprised is all.”

  “Most are when I give that little speech. We'll have the full resources of the Bureau at our disposal but this is your case as far as I’m concerned. If it should come to light that a state line has been crossed in the commission of the crime, of course, that’ll change things. But until that happens you and the county boys can battle it out for supremacy.”

  "Sounds good, Jack," Callie said. "The County Sheriff’s department is actually happy to let me run with it. They’ve got a big territory to administer and have pretty much got their hands full as it is. They’ve kicked in with manpower on the roadblocks and will be available to assist as needed but as far as an ongoing investigation is concerned, they’re content to back off and leave the grunt work to me. The truth is I'm just glad to have the benefit of your experience on this. It's not something I've ever had to deal with here in Colville."

  Jack nodded his head, relieved. It was refreshing not to be caught in the middle of another jurisdictional dispute, an all too common circumstance for him. Such battles were invariably tremendous time wasters and did nothing to further the cause of an investigation. "I should fill you in a little on statistics then," he said. "It may seem unlikely at this point but, the fact is, in the vast majority of cases like this, someone known to the family - very often a close friend or relative - is responsible for the abduction of the child."

  Callie pondered the thought for a moment. Actually this was nothing new to her. She had heard it all before but, in this case, it simply didn’t hold water. "The parents spent several hours in town shopping the morning of the disappearance," she said. "They ran into dozens of people who’d have learned of Sophie's existence. But I’ve got to tell you, Jack, as far as the family goes, I can't imagine there's any question of culpability. I've known Bert and Brad Crandall since I was a kid; there isn't a more upstanding family in the county."

  Jack raised his eyebrows, acknowledging her right to her own opinions while still maintaining mild skepticism. "For what it's worth, I hope you're right. Why don't we head out to the farm? You can bring me up to speed on what's happened since we spoke last on the way."

  “That’s it coming up on our left,” Callie said as the Crandall farm came into view.

  Sitting in the passenger seat of Callie’s cruiser, Jack was aware of the somber mood that seemed to hang in the air around the property. He could almost sense the presence of deep sadness and ... was it some malevolent force? Christ, he thought, let’s not get weird here.

  Callie turned in to the driveway and pulled up in front of the house.

  Jack followed Callie to the door where Bert Crandall greeted them. Callie introduced them and Bert showed them to the kitchen where the younger Crandalls waited.

  The moment he walked into the room, Jack’s radar picked up something out of the ordinary. He expected the family members involved in a situation like this to be distraught, emotionally charged up. But he sensed something in addition to this in Mrs. Crandall‘s manner. She appeared to be distancing herself from the man seated next to her. Is there a not so subtle hint of blame being directed at her husband? he wondered.

  "This is Special Agent Jack Parmenter with the FBI," Callie was saying. "He's part of a national task force established to track missing children. Agent Parmenter has a great deal of experience with this type of situation and he’ll be helping us with the investigation."

  Jack looked around the table - three sets of eyes looking at him imploringly - and nodded his hello. "First of all, folks, let me assure you that, despite what you're probably thinking right now, there's a very real chance Sophie will be returned to you unharmed. I've worked on a lot of cases just like this one and our success rate is actually much better than most people imagine. I'm here to help Chief Henderson find Sophie just as quick as possible.” He paused to take a deep breath. "First, though, I've got to ask you some tough questions. Please understand we've simply got to cover certain ground, eliminate certain possibilities, before moving on to the next stage. If we waste time arguing about the necessity of these questions it'll only serve to hinder our progress and delay matters. Am I clear?"

  Brad looked from Jack to Callie and back to Jack in obvious disbelief. "Do I understand you correctly, Agent? Are you suggesting we may have had some part in this?"

  "Certainly not, Mr. Crandall,” Jack said. “That’s not my intention at all. What I'm saying is we have to eliminate the possibility that someone close to Sophie may have been involved. If we don't then we won't have conducted a proper or thorough investigation."

  Samantha, who had remained silent until now, spoke up. "Please ... just ask your questions and get on with finding our baby."

  Jack muttered a quiet, "Thank you, ma'am."

  For the next thirty minutes Jack established a precise sequence of events with Brad, Samantha, and Bert providing details of their movements and locations throughout the critical time period. He took detailed notes of their responses and asked for confirmation of answers several times in order to avoid ambiguities. When he was satisfied he had a clear picture of events as described by the Crandalls he thanked them for their cooperation and he and Callie left.

  ****

  At Jack’s request Callie had arranged a meeting with her deputy and the one county sheriff’s department officer actively working the case with them. The two were waiting in Callie’s office when she and Jack arrived there the next morning.

  "This is Special Agent Jack Parmenter of the FBI," Callie announced. “Agent Parmenter, this is my deputy, Ralph Torrens and Oxford County Sheriff’s Deputy Davis Oakley.”

  Jack shook hands with both men.

  "Let's bring Agent Parmenter up to speed as quickly as possible,” Callie said. “Ralph, you spoke with the snowplow operator who was in the vicinity at the time of the disappearance."

  Torrens tilted his wide brimmed hat back on his head and blew his nose into a large handkerchief he took from his back pocket before responding. "Right, I interviewed Henry - Henry Lee Jarvis is his name - at 6 p.m. on the day of the disappearance," he confirmed.

  "Where was Jarvis when you located him?" Jack asked.

  "He was at his house in town,” Torrens said. “He told me he'd passed the Crandall farm at about 4 o'clock and that there was no sign of anyone around the place at the time. He covered about another three miles past the Crandall place before turning around and heading back to town."

  "What was his general attitude?” Jack asked. “Did he appear nervous or apprehensive?"

  Torrens gave his shoulders a slight shrug. "You gotta understand, old
Henry is a bit strange at the best of times. Never been in any trouble with the law, though."

  “How was he dressed?”

  “Dressed?”

  “Yeah. Like he’d just arrived or like he’d been home for awhile? All settled in to watch television or still with his coat on? You know.”

  Torrens pondered for a minute. “Well, he was in his normal work clothes I guess but he didn’t have his coat on. I think he was wearing slippers… and a sweater if I recall correctly.”

  Jack was quiet while he sorted his thoughts. Some guy sitting around home in his slippers and cozy sweater was not exactly the image of guilt you automatically associated with a child abductor, but the fact was you never knew about these things or how a nutcase might act in any given situation. "Jarvis has been placed at the scene at very near the time of the disappearance,” he said after a moment. “It's reasonable to assume he's either involved himself or saw whoever was. Did he report seeing anyone on the road?"

  Torrens referred to his notebook. "Yes, sir, he reported seeing three vehicles belonging to neighbors from nearby farms, and another one he didn't recognize. We've spoken to the owners of the three vehicles he identified and they all confirm Jarvis was seen at the times he tells us he was north of the farm. All the neighbors check out clean."

  "What about the fourth vehicle?"

  "Jarvis couldn't remember the make or color and said he didn't get a clear look at the driver. All he could tell me was it was a sedan with a man driving. The only reason he remembered it at all, he said, was because it's not all that common to see a regular car - most everybody drives a pick-up or four wheel drive - that far out in the country."

  "Could he tell us anything else about the vehicle?"

  "Fraid not," Torrens said.

  Jack turned to Callie. “Let’s run a computer check on Jarvis." He jotted something in his notebook. "And I'll want to interview him myself as soon as possible."