Page 30 of Dark Angel
Beth went to his side and squeezed his arm. “We did everything possible, Dax. If you’re planning on blaming anyone, blame the storm. If that rush of water hadn’t washed them off a road, she would be alive and we’d have the guy holding her prisoner in custody.” She gave him a long look. “The guy in the van might still be the Pied Piper. One thing’s for sure, if it isn’t, he’ll kill again soon. I hope Ryder has chased down information about him, searched his home, and any other places he frequented. He might have girls holed up there.”
“It seems to me, from the evidence we have now, he flipped them, but maybe he kept Aisha for himself.” Styles looked bleakly at Wolfe. “What about Scarlett? What happened to her?”
“I found a number of things.” Wolfe looked from one to the other. “She had a skull fracture, which would have killed her without treatment and would have rendered her unconscious. She had heroin in her system but not enough to kill her. In my opinion, she was struck with a blunt object from behind. A hammer would fit the shape and size of the contusion. Blunt force trauma is indicated on the X-rays, and from the hemorrhaging, it’s clear it happened hours before her death. She likely lapsed into a coma and they dumped her in the bay. The bruising to her upper back and arms is consistent with hitting water and happened in the moments previous to her death. Cause of death is asphyxiation by drowning. She again was brutally sexually assaulted over a long time.” He blew out a long sigh. “Both these girls are typical examples of children sold into slavery.”
They’d left Rattlesnake Creek in a hurry, leaving the information they needed on the man in the van, presumably Ricky Tallis out of Butte, with Sheriff Ryder. Beth leaned against the counter as Wolfe gave instructions to Colt Webber, to close up. “Did you get a positive ID on Ricky Tallis out of Butte, the guy in the van?”
“Yeah, I spoke to Ryder earlier.” Wolfe removed his apron and tossed it down a laundry chute, balled up his gloves, and tossed them in the garbage. “Tallis’ cause of death was drowning. The prints are a match and the guy has priors for underage dealing. Ryder is chasing down any properties he might own and hunting down any friends or relatives. There’s nothing new on Skylar Peters, and he’s calling off the search later today.” He looked from one to the other. “I’ll have a full report, including the toxicology screen, sent to you ASAP. Ryder will notify the next of kin.”
Beth removed her gloves and shook Wolfe’s hand. “Thank you for moving so fast on this case.”
“It’s what I do.” Wolfe smiled and pulled a card from his pocket. “Agent Jo Wells, the behavioral analyst out of the Snakeskin Gully FBI field office, is always available to assist if you want to talk over a case with her. This is her cellphone number.” He handed her a card. “So am I.”
“Thanks.” Styles moved to her side. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat before we head home?”
Beth nodded. “Yeah, I want to visit Aunt Betty’s Café.” She needed an excuse to get the cash to the local church.
“Sure, and then we’d better hit the sky.” Styles led the way from the examination room and down the hallway to Wolfe’s office. He threw open the door. “Come on, Bear. It’s time to go home.”
THIRTY-ONE
SUNDAY
Rattlesnake Creek
Before six on Sunday morning, Beth headed to the office, surprised to find Styles at his desk when a call came in from Ryder. In their absence, he’d sprang into action and asked the Butte PD to search Ricky Tallis’ property. They’d discovered evidence that he’d kept Aisha Santiago prisoner in his home since she disappeared but had found nothing else to establish a link to the Pied Piper. After investigating, the Butte PD insisted he didn’t own a cabin and none of his friends were willing to give up any information. They’d found a laptop that proved Tallis traded in child pornography and although the investigations were ongoing, Beth had to concede that Tallis wasn’t the Pied Piper. To her surprise, at the news, Styles stood, walked along the whiteboard, looked at the images, and then left the office without a word.
After an hour had passed, confused by his behavior, Beth headed down to the gym. The thwack of a ball hitting a bat echoed through the large area. In the batting cage, Styles, stripped to the waist, was swinging at balls with an aggression she’d never noticed in him before now. The grunts as he swung the bat, and the speed the balls flew out of the machine, radiated anger. Intrigued, she went to watch. Slicked with sweat, Styles had obviously been here for the entire time. He swung and hit, swung and hit, like a professional player. Baseball was her passion and she’d watched the best. He moved fluidly, as if placing the ball, and missed few. The swishing sound as the bat cut through the air echoed in the silence until he’d exhausted all the balls. She bent to rub Bear’s ears and smiled at him. “You look so sad. Is Styles in a bad mood?”
When Bear whined, she went to the cage and pushed her fingers through the wire and looked at Styles. “Feel better now?”
“Nope.” Styles dropped the bat on the ground and went to collect the balls in a bucket and then fed them back into the machine.
This must be his way of letting off steam, but what had riled him so much to come out before six. “Couldn’t you sleep?”
“I sleep just fine. It’s when I wake up, I don’t do so well.” Styles turned his back on her and switched on the machine.
Slightly annoyed, Beth followed the cord leading out of the cage and flipped the switch on the wall. She turned and walked back to the cage, opened the door, and walked inside. Styles’ thunderous expression greeted her. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him. He was cut and muscular but scars marred his skin. In the first glance she’d spotted a gunshot wound to the shoulder, another to his upper arm, and a very cruel knife wound across his chest. When he turned away, she could see signs of shrapnel scars on his back. She dragged her eyes away, but the stories around the scars intrigued her.
“Is there something you need to say to me?” Styles lifted his chin and stared at her. “Or are you going to just stand there gawking at me? What, never seen battle scars before?”
Blinking a few times, Beth digested his words and then raised one eyebrow. “I have a few of them myself. I look at them as badges of honor. Maybe one day we can swap the stories behind them?”
“It’s never gonna happen.” He barked a laugh. “We’ll never be that close.”
Beth folded her arms across her chest. “I understand having me here cramps your style, but I don’t intend to become a problem for you. Yes, I’m stubborn and I want my own way, but how you lead your life or go about your business is your concern. To be perfectly honest, I don’t give a rat’s. I’m here to do a job, not to make friends.”
“That’s a typical narcissistic comment.” Styles balled his fists on his hips and stared into the distance before slowly returning his attention to her. “I’m not down here letting off steam because of you or what you did in San Francisco. I’m mad because the Pied Piper is still out there. I want to know what happened to the other girls he abducted and we’re still running in circles.” He let out a long sigh, took a cloth hanging from his belt, and dried his face and chest. “The fact we found a pedophile ring flourishing with endless supplies of children opens up a can of worms, well about a million cans of worms.” He took a T-shirt from a chair in the corner and pulled it over his head. “You mentioned that these predators breed like cockroaches. I know the truth of it. We might find one or two, but hiding in the dark are a million or so.”
Understanding dawned on her and she nodded. “You have it right. Unfortunately, we’ll never be able to find all of them because new people are joining the colony of predators all the time. It’s worse than a secret society or any type of cult because they all move in different circles. They are secretive. Some alone, others trust a few people in a group, and then there’s those who literally have an empire and use children as a commodity to make money.” She sighed. “I could work for the rest of my life and only discover the tip of the iceberg. We might catch a few of the outsiders, like Spike and his clients, but the kingpin is always well protected. I worked on Spike’s laptop most of the night and, apart from kiddy porn, I found nothing to lead me to his dark web contact page. I found a few pathways, but from what I can determine, whoever is running the auction site to move the kids sets up a new link for each auction. I figure the details are verbal, not sent in a text or email. Whoever is in charge knows how to evade hackers. It wasn’t a waste of time because it tells me just how much deeper the investigation needs to go. It needs a team of supersmart hackers working on the problem. It’s not something I could do alone.”
“So even with your knowledge of cybercrime, this animal is smarter than you?” Styles shook his head. “How does that make you feel?”
Refusing to rise to the bait, Beth met his gaze. “It makes me more determined to track him down eventually, but right now, we have a homicide case to solve, so chasing down a pedophile ring is out of the question. I figure the director will take it out of my hands anyway. He wants me here as your partner, not working long hours on cybercrime, and they have offices filled with young hackers at their disposal.” She sighed. “At least, I’ve made sure all of Spike’s clients are arrested. I’ve already spoken to the local PD in San Francisco.”
“How so?” Styles’ mood visibly brightened.
Beth leaned casually against the wire. “I told them that I’d heard about the girls they found on the street corner. They were very forthcoming and even mentioned Spike’s name. The girls gave them information about the brothel but left us out of the equation.” She smiled. “I suggested they set up a sting operation in Spike’s brothel and they agreed. It will be simple enough. They’ll make sure they have enough men available to walk out the clients who show without causing alarm. Over a few days or even a week, they’ll get just about everyone who frequents that place.”
