To everyone’s surprise, I was home at a reasonable time.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Marie joked. “Since when on a Sunday when you’re called in to work are you back by suppertime? We can actually eat together as a family.”
I chuckled. “Since there’s nothing we can do until business hours tomorrow. We have to look at camera footage in the bar district and see if we get lucky, but enough shop talk.”
Mom agreed with a “hallelujah.”
“So, what’s for supper?” I asked.
“Swedish meatballs over noodles and a side of green beans,” Mom said.
“That sounds great. How soon before we eat?”
Marie looked at the clock. “Twenty minutes or so.”
“Okay, I’m going to shower and change clothes.”
That cold beer I was going to have before supper would be enjoyed later under the full moon. I looked forward to it, and Mom and Marie were welcome to join me.
After eating that delicious meal and listening to the girls tell me how they’d spent the day, Marie and I cleaned up the kitchen. Della and Chloe had fifteen minutes left of the movie they’d been watching before supper and then it was off to bed. Once they were tucked in, I grabbed three beers out of the fridge, got Marie and Mom’s attention, and nodded toward the patio door.
“Gonna join me? The full moon will be right above us, and I can’t think of anything better to look at while enjoying a beer.”
Mom grinned. “That reminds me of the night on the ship’s balcony when we did the very same thing.”
I laughed. “And then everything went to hell the next day.”
Mom held up her hands. “We had some fun, didn’t we? The trip wasn’t a complete loss.”
I hugged her. “That was a birthday vacation for the books, but I don’t want to repeat it.”
“Good. Next year, it’s an RV vacation, and we’re staying on dry land. Maybe a trip to the Smoky Mountains.”
Marie nodded. “That sounds nice and relaxing.”
I had to say it even in jest. “I hear there are a lot of bears in that area.”
Marie punched me in the shoulder. “You suck.”
I laughed, opened the slider, and waved at them to come outside with me. It was a crystal-clear night with little humidity, and the moon was full and bright. I would never get tired of that sight or spending quality time with my family. I twisted off the beer caps and passed the bottles out. We spent nearly an hour outside enjoying each other’s company. Mom always liked to reminisce about us as children, and they were usually good stories.
By ten o’clock, we’d gone inside, the house was quiet, and everyone else was asleep. As I lay in the comfort of my bed and the safety of my home, I wondered what Valerie’s last moments had been like and what had happened during the full day she’d spent alive with her captor. It was something I would never know, yet those kinds of questions always haunted me. I closed my eyes and drifted off.
I woke Monday morning refreshed and thankful that I’d gotten a full night’s sleep. That seemed to happen less and less as June turned into July and July into August. Criminals always seemed to be more active in the summer months, maybe because there were more tourists to take advantage of or maybe because the hot, sticky days took their toll. No matter the reason, our homicide department was always the busiest in the summer.
My phone hadn’t rung yet, so I hoped to be able to enjoy a sit-down breakfast instead of a piece of toast jammed into my mouth as I bolted out the door. Since I was still recuperating from my broken leg and arm, bolting out the door was impossible anyway. I walked okay but at a slower pace.
As I sat at the table with my mom, my sister, and my nieces, I hoped for a productive day. So far, I felt lucky. I was able to eat an uninterrupted breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage links, hash browns, and toast. I filled my travel mug with coffee, wished everyone a good day, and headed to the precinct.
Rue had arrived before me, and as I entered our office, he passed on a message from Royce. Our briefing would start at eight o’clock—ten minutes away. He’d said there was a lot to discuss and he wanted to get an early start.
I pulled the lid off my mug, peered inside, and saw only a swallow of coffee left.
“Need a coffee?” I asked before I even sat down. “My mug is pretty much empty, and if it’s going to be a long meeting—”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
We headed down the hallway, and Rue mentioned that he thought Royce and Bleu were going to announce overtime at the briefing.
“I wouldn’t doubt it. They need to catch whoever is harvesting the organs whether it be for some sick ritual or for profit, but if that person crossed state lines, we’ll have no choice but to involve the FBI.”
Rue plugged the coffee machine with quarters. “We’ve got a full day ahead of us. We need to view what was caught on camera between Congress and Whitaker along with interviewing those animal abusers.”
“I’m sure Royce will have Bentley and Lawrence take half that workload. Makes no difference to me which half either.”
Rue huffed. “I’m sick of looking at footage. I’d rather get up in the faces of those sickos and see what they have to say.”
I chuckled. “That does sound entertaining.”
With our coffees in hand, we headed down to the briefing room. Vice was going to sit in on the meeting to offer their assistance if needed.
Once everyone was seated, Bleu approached the podium. He began with the overnight work that had taken place after yesterday’s update from Sergeant Riley.
“I need everyone’s attention. I assume the watercooler talk already took place this morning and everyone knows about the unfortunate tragedy involving Valerie Dawson. We need to nip this case in the bud before the people of Savannah go into a citywide panic. Between the weekend shift and our night shift people, we’ve narrowed down the last time illegal organ trafficking was discovered in the South. That was in 2007 in Atlanta, and the participants are all behind bars. Either this is a ritualistic ceremony, somebody new who’s trying their hand at harvesting organs for profit, or the worst-case scenario, people who have been busy at it but have never been caught.”
Royce spoke up. “Cannon and Rue, pass those camera locations off to Bentley and Lawrence. You found the cameras yesterday, so they can follow up with them.” He looked at me. “Plus, you’d probably like to give your leg a break. I want the two of you to track down the animal abusers and see what and who they know. After we see if there is any usable video footage to follow up with, or if we get leads from those freaks with the arrest records for animal abuse, we’ll decide if we need to overlap shifts.”
I nodded a thanks to Royce. A short question-and-answer session between the sergeants and the police squad took place, then the briefing was adjourned. Rue and I headed upstairs to get the current addresses of those four worst offenders, and we would pay them a visit that morning.
Before we left, we made a stop in Lawrence and Bentley’s office. We passed along the locations of the cameras and wished them luck. If the cameras were programmed to run twenty-four hours a day, at least a few of them had to have picked up Valerie walking by. If any vehicle seemed to be following her, they needed to get the best angle of that vehicle they could.
Rue and I headed to the apartment of Jacob Kenney, an alleged leader of a cultlike group that partook in many animal sacrifices, even large animals, according to the police reports. His rap sheet was disturbing. He’d spent plenty of time in jail over the last ten years, but most recently, he’d been lying low. I wondered whether he’d changed his evil ways or just become more cunning and clever at hiding his actions.
We reached the apartment building, which had seen better days, at nine o’clock, a time when most unemployed losers were just getting up. Perfect for us, not so perfect for him. We’d checked his most current DMV file as we had with the other three as well. His address was up to date, and the vehicle on record was a 2011 Ford Econoline van. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out why he had that vehicle. He transported either likeminded animal abusers or possibly the dead animals themselves. I’d never met the man, but already, he gave me the creeps.
I pulled in and parked in one of the two visitor spaces then scanned from left to right. I pointed at the white Ford van at the end of the lot. “Looks like he’s home.”
Devon huffed. “Good. Let’s go shake his tree and see what kind of nut falls out.”
We walked to his door, and I gave it three hard raps. Minutes later, the blinds separated, and a set of eyeballs peered out at us. He looked to be deciding what to do, but since it was obvious that we saw him, he came to the door.
By his appearance, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume we woke him, and he didn’t look happy.
“Yeah?” He scratched his armpit, sniffed his fingers, then looked us up and down.
I held out my badge. “We’re detectives from the Habersham precinct and have questions for you. May we come in?”
He wrinkled his face. “What if I say no?”
“Then you’ll answer our questions at the station. Either way, we’re going to ask them.”
He groaned. “Whatever.” He jerked his head toward the living room, and we walked in. “What’s this about?”
“Why don’t you take a seat, listen to what we have to say, and then you can answer the questions?”
Jacob plopped down on the couch and lit a cigarette.
I glanced at Rue, rolled my eyes, and began. “We’ve looked over your police record and see that you’ve got a fascination for torturing, killing, and sacrificing innocent animals.”
He blew out a puff of smoke then chuckled.
I frowned. “Why is that funny?”
“That was ages ago, and I served my time for it. I’m a changed man, so why are you really here?”
“I’ll be honest. We need information, and if you’re really a changed man, you’ll help,” I said.
That time, he laughed. “So it’s time to turn the screws and apply pressure, huh? Don’t take me for an idiot, Detective…”
“Cannon, Mitch Cannon.”
He let out a long, dramatic sigh and frowned at the clock. “I have better things to do, but if you get to the point, I’ll answer your questions. You’ve got fifteen minutes, and your time starts now.”
I wanted to strangle the pompous jerk, but to glean information from him, I had to play his game. “Sure, and it shouldn’t take longer than that unless there are things you want to tell us about yourself.”
His eyes lit up. I knew from past experience that no matter how large, small, or sick their crimes were, criminals loved to talk about themselves.
He lit a second cigarette, sucked in a long drag, and blew it toward us. “Yeah, okay. Shoot.”