Page 40 of Dark Angel
“Is there any other way?” Green’s mood lightened. “It’s a whole other world. A place you can be anyone you want. The ultimate escapism. I’m into VR as well. It’s just like being there.”
Watching his animated expression, Beth nodded. “Yeah, virtual reality is the new era of gaming. I have a gaming chair that bounces me all over. I prefer to stick to the chair or I walk into walls.”
“Me too.” Green smiled. “Gaming is all the kids talk about in here.”
“Yeah, they make a ton of friends online.” Styles leaned casually against the wall. “Kids from all over.”
“That’s true.” Green rubbed the back of his neck. “I gotta go. They’ll be wondering where I’ve gone.” He looked at Beth.
She nodded. “Yeah, that’s all we needed. Thanks.”
Beth waited for him to leave and turned to Styles. “He’s a maybe too. The gaming link is something we shouldn’t dismiss.”
“He was evasive and didn’t you say they’re usually over-cooperative?” Styles straightened. “What I saw was nervous and defensive. I’m not sure he’s involved.”
Shaking her head, Beth looked at him. “Serial killers are smart. They know the FBI is constantly upgrading their research on psychopathic serial killers. I mean there’s enough shows on TV about them you’d have to be living off the grid not to know.” She folded her notebook and thrust it inside her pocket. “So, they are more than capable of acting in a way suitable to the occasion. Most times the true character shows through… like when he became all friendly talking about gaming… almost childlike. He was turning on the charm… saying ‘look at me I’m a good guy,’ but he didn’t fool me.”
FORTY
He liked becoming the Warlock. It was one of his more ingenious ideas to gain a kid’s trust and he’d use it again. He’d enjoyed his time in Rattlesnake Creek and could always return in a year or so when the heat died down. With the sheriffs of the local towns making inquiries and the FBI sniffing around, it would be time to go real soon, but not just yet. It wasn’t as if he’d done anything wrong. It wasn’t as if he’d kidnapped the girls. They always came to him willingly. What happened was their fault. They’d shared his fantasy right to the end. Online, their chats had been fun and they’d begged to meet him. He’d only given them what they wanted.
He’d need to make plans to leave town. He’d make it appear like he’d left before he planned to meet the girls. That would be easy enough as people believed what he told them. If he mentioned the day he planned to leave, that’s the day they’d remember and that’s the day they’d tell the cops. Too easy.
He’d selected the next two. One for him and the other to sell. He’d collected images of the girl intended for sale from social media and sent them to his contact on the dark web. The auction would take place tonight and he would lay down plans to move the merchandise as fast as possible. He usually managed to get the girl out of the forest or meeting place within an hour, but he always calculated on two as sometimes the girls arrived late, but they usually surprised him how punctual they were. Most of them didn’t believe he’d actually arrive and figured he must be one of their friends playing a joke on them. It was always satisfying to see their faces light up when he walked into a clearing or turned up at the door of an old hunting cabin as if confused. It never ceased to amaze him how he was able to get them to do what he wanted. This way of meeting the girls was particular to this area of Montana. He’d discovered the latest craze for young girls was an interactive game of fairies and warlocks. It seemed that they became so engrossed with the game that they lived it in their heads, so the chance to meet a character was believable to them.
The different elements of the game had enabled him to separate the girls. He’d arrived with a special magic potion, which in fact was an herbal sleeping draft he’d discovered on his travels and grew in his backyard. It worked particularly fast on children and enabled him to leave the second girl in a safe place so he could return to his blonde fantasy. It was strange how no matter what the blonde actually looked like, the moment he stroked her long blonde hair she became Susie Parkinson. He spoke her name and the memories came tumbling back. He’d been twelve when Susie moved in next door. He’d watch her through a hole in the wooden fence, speaking to her dolls and dressing them like fairies. She was very young, but playing inside her secret garden, she mesmerized him. He wanted to talk to her and touch her long blonde hair.
Things changed when his father caught him and beat him within an inch of his life. It wasn’t for looking at Susie through the hole in the fence; it was for getting caught. He’d wanted to speak to his pa, needing an explanation, but that same day his mom vanished in the night. His father insisted she’d run away with another man and that women like her were all the same. What happened next changed his life. On a lazy Sunday afternoon, he’d seen Susie wander into the woods near his home, and when she didn’t return, he’d gone to look for her. On the edge of a clearing, he’d found his pa with Susie. Watching him was exciting but when his pa turned, looked at him, and smiled, something inside his head prevented him from running away. His feet glued to the forest floor and then his pa had beckoned him.
“She made me do it, son.” His pa had stared at him. “You seen how she smiled at me. The young’uns are the worst.” He’d pulled latex gloves from his pocket. “Put on these gloves. Now come here and do as I say or we’re both going to jail.”
As if an automaton, he’d walked over to him and followed instructions, collecting Susie’s clothes, folding them up, and then placing her shoes neatly on top of the pile. When his father stabbed Susie, he watched in morbid fascination, unable to drag his eyes away, but when he handed him the knife with the words “no one can ever know, finish her,” killing Susie had been the right thing to do. A tremble went through him as he remembered the thrill that sparked his addiction. From that day on, he’d killed them all.
His pa had insisted he find him more girls, and at first it had been difficult, but soon he’d learned how to convince them. Young girls were never afraid of him. He’d chat with them and offer to walk them home, and soon became their boyfriend. Ten- to twelve-year-olds fell for it every time and after a few days they’d do anything he asked. His pa moved them from town to town and he helped him until the cops came to the door asking questions. He’d given his pa an alibi and the cops had believed him, but his pa had made up his mind to leave town. However, his pa wanted another girl before they left. He’d followed the usual plan and packed the truck and told everyone they’d be leaving that day, but that afternoon things started playing on his mind. He’d taken all the risks and his pa was getting all the fun. He needed more and the thrill of killing was no longer satisfying his hunger. With the cops sniffing around his pa for the murders, it would only be a matter of time before they turned their attention his way. After all, he wasn’t a kid any longer. It was time to do something.
As usual, he’d done his part and led the girl into the forest, but this time when his pa handed him the knife, he’d stabbed the girl and then turned the knife on him. He’d laughed when his pa grabbed his throat and looked at him bug-eyed. Then he’d turned to his Susie—she was always Susie to him, his blonde-haired fairy princess—and placed the knife in her small hand, and walked away. He’d followed the plan, taken the truck, and driven to another state.
He rarely thought of his pa and had managed alone just fine. He’d gotten a job that allowed him to move around and make his own plans. His pa had told him men like them were different to others—another lie. He’d been surprised just how many people were like him. Hundreds wanted to communicate with him and share their fantasies, but then his pa hadn’t been as smart as him. He’d learned from his pa’s mistakes and would never risk sharing his Susie with anyone, and by changing up his game plan frequently, he confused the cops. His idea of taking her friend had been pure genius and paid out in silver dollars. This way, he could have his Susie anytime he wanted and never worry about being short of cash. He smiled at his reflection in the rearview mirror. One thing was for sure: there was never a shortage of men willing to pay for little girls.
FORTY-ONE
The smell of the classroom brought back pleasant memories for Styles. He wondered why a kids’ classroom always had the same odor. He thought on it for a time as Beth prepared to speak to the kids. Being human, people probably didn’t register the familiar smell in a classroom, but they’d understand exactly what he meant if he mentioned the smell of puppies. He pushed the silly notions to the back of his mind and tried to appear nonthreatening. The mention of FBI agents in the room had silenced the noise in seconds. After being introduced to the wide-eyed kids, he went to stand beside the teacher at the back of the classroom and watched Beth cast her magic over the group of children. He hadn’t expected her to have such a magnetic personality. The way she spoke was engaging and all of the children were mesmerized by her. She had kept her language easy to understand. As she was coming to the end she very carefully introduced some valid points.
“When I was a little girl, my mom always told me to be careful of strangers.” Beth smiled. “Moms always say that don’t they?” She shrugged. “The problem is the dangerous people who want to harm kids are usually very nice. They want to be your friend. So, if someone who has been a stranger suddenly wants to be your friend, you need to tell your parents or your teacher. If you’re playing a game online and someone wants to know where you live or wants to meet you, they may not be another kid, but a stranger trying to harm you. If this happens, you must tell your parents. If this has happened to you recently, you should tell me. I’ll find out if that person is who they say they are.” She smiled. “You’ll never get into trouble, and the person will never know what you say to me.” She waved to a desk the teacher had set up for her in the corner. It was surrounded by bookshelves and offered a modicum of privacy. “If you have any questions or want to talk to me about anything at all, including being an FBI agent, I’ll be sitting over there for a while.”
“We’ll be taking a break now.” The teacher smiled at the kids. “We have fruit on the counter if you’d like a snack, and I’m happy for you to discuss everything we’ve been talking about this afternoon.”
Styles waited for Beth to walk to his side and smiled. “You handled that like a professional. Do you think you’ll get anything out of it?”
“We’ll see.” Beth scanned the classroom. “I noticed two of the girls blushed when I spoke about someone online. I’ll go and sit at the desk and see if anyone comes for a chat.” She gave him a sideways look. “To them you’re a stranger, so I would suggest you stay put.”
Running a hand through his hair, Styles stared at her. “Kids are smart. They know I’m an FBI agent. I’m wearing a vest and I’ve allowed them to look at my creds as you suggested. I don’t believe they consider me a threat.” He sighed. “If anyone comes over to speak to you, turn on your earbud. I need to hear what’s being said.”
“I’ll record everything with my phone as well.” Beth moved to the secluded corner and sat down with her back to the room. It was a ploy, she’d explained, to avoid kids being apprehensive about approaching her.
It didn’t take long before a young girl chewing on her fingers looked all around before heading toward Beth. Styles touched his earpiece. “Showtime.”
“Don’t look this way.” Beth’s voice came through his earpiece. “We don’t want to frighten her.”
