“That is Emma Yonkers,” Kaleb said grimly. He wrapped his arm around Charlotte’s waist, fearing she’d collapse at the news of Emma’s murder. “As we mentioned last night, she was one of our safe house residents.”
“Yeah? Any idea how she ended up lying in the alley near the old safe house location?” Grimes asked.
“She left the safe house here in Agoura Hills yesterday.” Kaleb wished he’d tried harder to convince Emma to stay with them. “I gave her money for a taxi or rideshare.”
“You need to find Rodney Jones,” Charlotte said, her voice thick with emotion. “He’s her former boyfriend. He abused her in the past.”
“Charlotte is right. Emma told me she didn’t think Rodney was a bad guy, that he was sorry for what he’d done. I believe she probably went back to him.”
“I’ll get a BOLO issued for him ASAP,” Grimes said. “Although you should know that we don’t believe she was murdered where her body was found.”
Charlotte let out a choked sound. “You mean, someone may have killed her here in Agoura Hills?”
“I don’t know where she was murdered,” Grimes quickly said. “We need to cover all possibilities.”
“Maybe the crime scene is Rodney’s apartment, or somewhere close to where he lives,” Kaleb said, his mind whirling with different theories of the crime. Had Rodney killed Emma, dumping her body near the safe house as a not so subtle message? As in, don’t even bother to try to keep women safe? A chilling thought. “Is Rodney Jones in the system? Was he included in the mug shots you showed Charlotte?”
“Just a minute.” Grimes was silent for a moment, then said, “Yeah, he’s in the system. For drugs, not for assault and battery. I’ll send you a copy of his mug shot.”
Charlotte leaned against him as they waited for her phone to ping. The picture was of a dark-skinned man. He had dark hair, but the facial features were different. It was difficult to say for certain, but he didn’t think Rodney was the guy he’d seen outside the safe house.
“I don’t think that’s him,” Charlotte said, her tone anything but certain. “I think the man following me was more pale, as if he didn’t get out in the sun much. And Rodney’s eyes are closer together than what I remember.”
“I agree with Charlotte, but I do think it’s possible he killed Emma.” Kaleb tried to push aside the dark despair. He felt terrible that young Emma had been brutally murdered. He’d hoped her killer was the same one who was trying to get inside the safe house.
Unfortunately, not. That would have been too easy.
And every SEAL knew the only easy day was yesterday.
“What time did she leave your safe house?” Grimes asked.
Kaleb gave him the pertinent information. “The Agoura Hills detective, a guy named Wales, mentioned someone complained about Emma, the caller assumed she was a prostitute. Call him to find out what time that call came in. That may help your timeline.”
“I will.” There was a pause before Grimes said, “Any update on your perp?”
“No.” He didn’t feel the need to explain how he was going to head out to hunt for him. “I gave Detective Wales the information, he promised to keep an eye out for him.”
“Okay, thanks for the information on Ms. Yonkers,” Grimes said.
“Please keep me updated on what you find out,” Charlotte said. “Emma may have left the safe house by her choice, but she didn’t deserve to die.”
“I agree. Take care.” Grimes disconnected from the call.
Charlotte pushed away from Kaleb, running her fingers through her short hair. “I can’t believe she’s dead.”
“Maybe we keep this news to ourselves for a bit,” Kaleb suggested. “No reason to upset everyone.”
“We can tell them later,” Charlotte agreed. “But honestly, they should know what happened. If Emma hadn’t left us, she’d still be alive. That’s the hard truth about abuse and the most difficult for victims to understand. They always think it can’t happen to them, but the number of abused women who die or are permanently disabled is staggering.” She shook her head sadly. “I can save many of these women and children, but I can’t save them all.”
“You do great work, Charlotte. Stay focused on the ones you have saved. As you said, this isn’t a jail. Everyone has to make their own choices and be responsible for the consequences.” Kaleb hadn’t really understood the impact of what she’d accomplished until now. When Emma left, she truly felt she’d be fine. Until she wasn’t. “Let’s wait until after lunch at least.”
She nodded and walked out of the office. He followed, wishing there was something he could say or do to make her feel better. He sent up a silent prayer that God would bring Emma home.
Milly frowned, picking up on their grim mood. But she didn’t say anything as she served the chili she’d made for lunch. When they were all seated, Milly and Charlotte looked at him expectantly.
He folded his hands and bowed his head. “Dear Lord, please bless this food You’ve provided for us. Also continue to keep us all safe in Your care and protect us from those who wish to do us harm. Amen.”
“Amen,” Milly, Charlotte, and several others echoed.
The chili tasted great, but it was hard to enjoy the meal with Emma’s murder hanging over him. He eyed Charlotte, noticing how she picked at her food too. When he’d finished eating, he carried his dishes to the sink. Charlotte quickly joined him.
“Are you leaving soon?” she asked in a low voice.
“Yes. I need to find this guy.” He flashed a reassuring smile. “You and the residents will be fine. The security system is engaged, and if you hear anything outside, call 911. In this neighborhood, the response should be swift. And I have enough trip wires to keep him from getting too close.”
“I will.” Her attempt at a smile was pathetic. “Be safe, Kaleb.”
“You too.” He couldn’t help himself from pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head, filling his senses with her unique fragrance. Then he turned to Sierra. “Stay. Guard.”
Sierra sat, although her dark eyes seemed to beg him to take her along with him. Tempting, but he felt certain having the dog with him would only attract more attention as he attempted to stealthily move around the neighborhood.
Leaving Charlotte wasn’t easy. But sitting around and waiting for this guy to make another move would be worse. Going on offense seemed to be the best solution. And hopefully one that this guy wouldn’t expect.
“Activate the alarm when I leave,” he said to Charlotte.
“I will.” He left the house, moving around the perimeter to make sure the assailant wasn’t hiding nearby.
Kaleb took his time, his gaze alert as he silently moved from one spot to the next. He took note of the neighboring properties, identifying all potential hiding spots.
His SEAL training had instilled the value of patience. Some things couldn’t be rushed, and he wasn’t about to tip this guy off. Yet California didn’t provide a lot of cover either. A few scrubby bushes, tall, slender palm trees, and houses and garages were all he had to work with.
Yet those were the same limitations the dark-haired guy had to deal with too. And Kaleb had faith in his superior training and skills.
And in God watching over him.
As he edged around the property directly behind their current safe house, he raked his gaze over the ridge off to the right. Agoura Hills was aptly named; several houses were tucked up against a ridge. He understood the desire of homeowners to build high along the ridge in hopes of capturing a glimpse of the ocean.
The rocky terrain offered additional hiding spots. It reminded him of Afghanistan, where the Taliban fighters would lie in wait before jumping out from behind a rock, shooting indiscriminately.
It took him an hour to clear the ridge. He didn’t find a footprint similar to the one he’d photographed earlier. Maybe he was giving this guy too much credit; thus far, he hadn’t really gotten his hands dirty, sticking mostly with firing his weapon. Kaleb made his way back to the safe house, taking several minutes to assess whether anyone had been there.
His trip wires were intact, so he decided to keep moving. The only area he hadn’t checked out was along the street itself. To him, that wasn’t a good place to hide. Yet on the other hand, if this guy didn’t have military training, he may have taken the easy way in and out.
There were some vehicles parked on the road, but none were black trucks with mud-smeared license plates. The smaller house located directly across the street appeared quiet; there were no cars in the driveway. He continued searching the main street, then made his way down each of the side streets.
He slowed his pace when he saw a black truck parked on the side of the road. The front end was facing him, and he could easily read the license plate. The first letter an H, not an A or a 4. Still, he quickly memorized it, then cautiously approached the vehicle.
No one was inside. He moved around to the back, frowning when he noticed the license plate. It matched the front plate and wasn’t covered in mud.
He kept walking until he reached the end of the cul-de-sac without seeing anyone wandering around nearby. Not even occupants of the various houses, which seemed a bit unusual, although to most people living here, it was too cold to do anything outside. Turning, he retraced his steps, going once more past the black truck.
A coincidence? There had to be dozens of black trucks in Agoura Hills. Yet he wasn’t about to ignore the possible lead. He pulled out his phone to call Detective Wales. The guy didn’t pick up, so he left a message. “This is Kaleb Tyson, we spoke earlier today about a man lurking around our safe house. I’d like you to run the following license plate through the system.” He rattled off the information. “I’d like to know who the vehicle is registered to and where he or she lives. I’m standing on Hillside Court. Please call me back with what you find out, thanks.”
There wasn’t much more he could do about this vehicle, so he continued surveilling additional side streets. Another hour later, he returned to Paradise Drive, the street upon which the safe house was located. He blew out a frustrated breath at coming up empty-handed.
No sign of the dark-haired guy or a truck with muddy license plates.
He hadn’t heard back from Wales either. He pulled out his phone to call the detective again as he walked briskly down the side street where he’d seen the truck. Then he stopped abruptly.
It was gone.
He frowned, examining the houses nearby. The most likely explanation was that the truck was owned by one of the residents living there. Someone who left to go to work, or to the gym, or the grocery store.
“Wales,” the detective answered.
“This is Kaleb Tyson. I’m following up on the message I left you earlier.” He was about to add that the information was likely a false alarm when the detective surprised him.
“I was just about to call you, Tyson. The license plate you identified is registered to a man who lives in Los Angeles. He drives a dark green truck, not a black one.”
Kaleb tightened his grip on the phone. “Are you telling me the truck was stolen?”
“I’m waiting to hear back from Darrin McCoy, but yeah, that’s my take on it. Any chance you took down the VIN number?”
“No.” He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of that. He was proving to be a lousy investigator. Then again, he’d never worked as a cop. “And even worse, the truck is gone.”
“That’s interesting. Do you think someone saw you checking it out?”
“He must have.” Kaleb slowly turned in a circle, wondering where the guy had been hiding. The front lawns didn’t offer any coverage, and hiding up near a house in broad daylight was risky. But that must have been what the perp had done. “I didn’t see him, though.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll find it,” Wales said with confidence. “My guess is that this guy swapped license plates with the green truck. Then he smeared mud across the surface to avoid being caught right away. It’s a tactic other auto thieves have used before. Especially if their intent is to use the vehicle to commit a crime.”
“Yeah.” He swept his gaze up and down the street. “The odd thing is that he took the time to remove the mud from the rear plate. I hate to admit, that caught me off guard. Let me know what Darrin McCoy from LA says.” He hesitated, then added, “This is on me. I should have stayed near the truck to catch this guy.”
“The truck could have belonged to anyone,” Wales pointed out. “Besides, we’ll find him.”
Kaleb ended the call, wishing he could believe that. Unfortunately, it seemed as if he’d let their best lead slip away.
And he had no one to blame but himself.
“What’s wrong?” Milly demanded. “Are you that worried about Kaleb? He’s clearly a man capable of taking care of himself.”
“Yes, no, I mean . . .” Charlotte sighed. “I learned some disturbing news earlier.”
Milly’s eyes widened. “What?”
She hesitated, then reminded herself that Milly deserved to know. “Emma’s body was found near our old safe house. She was murdered.”
Milly sucked in a harsh breath, then crossed herself. “Dear Lord, please have mercy on Emma’s soul,” she whispered.
“Yes.” Oddly, the housekeeper’s prayer made her feel slightly better. “I’m sure she ended up going back to her abuser, only to pay the ultimate price.”
“That’s not your fault, Char,” Milly said, reaching out to touch her arm. “You warned Emma, and I know Kaleb did too. We can’t control the decisions these women make. All we can do is guide them the best we can.”
“I know. But maybe I should have tried harder with Emma.” Charlotte winced as she thought back to how she’d told Emma to stay away from Kaleb, a man old enough to be her father. “I was too hard on her.”
“She was the one who flirted with Kaleb, as if he would be interested in a young woman like her,” Milly retorted.
“I know. But she was so young, so impressionable, maybe if I’d have let her down gently—”
“You always tell the women who come here not to play the what-if game,” Milly said briskly. “Time to take your own advice. We both sensed Emma wasn’t satisfied with the strict rules. She would have left sooner or later.”
“Maybe.” Charlotte tried to shake off the guilt. “It just hurts to know how much she suffered.”
“Everyone here has suffered.” Milly pierced her with a stern gaze. “Including you.”
Charlotte nodded, knowing Milly was right. “I’m at a loss as to what to tell the others.”
The older woman grimaced. “Do you have to tell them anything?”
Truthfully, she didn’t want to. But she nodded. “They deserve to know the danger. Besides, if there’s any chance this will help them stay away from their own abusers, I have to take it.”
“It could also make them that much more fearful,” Milly muttered. “Willow is already jumping at the slightest noise.”
“I know, and I don’t necessarily want to tell the kids either. They don’t need to hear this.” Charlotte thought for a moment. “Would you mind going down to the rec room? Send the women up here while you watch the kids.”
“Of course.” Milly hurried off.
The women filed into the dining room, looking at her with apprehension.
“Are we moving again?” Willow asked.
“Not yet.” She’d agreed to wait and see what Kaleb found. “But I’m afraid I have distressing news about Emma.”
“She in the hospital?” Janet asked.
“No. Unfortunately, she’s been murdered.”
Willow gasped, then clamped her hands over her mouth. A murmur rose among the others.
“I wasn’t going to tell you,” Charlotte said. “But there’s a strong possibility Emma went back to her abuser. You need to understand that violence against women is wrong and should never be tolerated. And going back to the same abusive partner is asking for trouble.”
“She was so young,” Jodie whispered.
“I can’t believe it,” Kim whispered.
“I know, it’s heartbreaking.” Charlotte sighed. “Just stick with the rules, okay? And even if you decide to leave, please don’t go back to your abuser.”
“Or go anyplace he might find you,” Willow added. Her face was void of all color, and Charlotte knew she was thinking about her ex-husband and the pain he’d inflicted upon her and Tommy.
“Exactly. That’s why we have a relocation program.” Charlotte took solace in the fact that these women wouldn’t make the same mistake Emma had. It offered some solace, especially those with children. “Please know that Kaleb and I are doing everything possible to keep you safe from harm.”
The women looked at each other, and it was sad to see the shadow of doubt darken their gazes.
After the residents returned downstairs, Charlotte moved from window to window with her gun hidden beneath the hem of her sweater. It was bulky and felt unnatural, but she forced herself to ignore the discomfort.
The dark clouds swirling outside only reinforced her despondent mood. She found herself praying God would guide Kaleb and the police to the dark-haired man. That he be brought to justice very soon so they could return to their previous safe house.
This time, though, the prayer didn’t make her feel better. She wondered if God was really watching over them. He hadn’t protected Emma.
What was it that Kaleb had said? Explaining about how God had a plan for them? Did that mean His plan for Emma included her dying at the hands of her abuser?
If so, why?
Charlotte dragged in a deep breath, struggling to maintain her composure. If Kaleb was here, he’d tell her it wasn’t up to them to question God’s plan. But that was far easier said than done.
She heard a sound coming from the front door. Hurrying over, she relaxed when she saw Kaleb enter.
“What’s wrong?” he asked the moment he saw her expression. He quickly crossed over to her.
She shook her head, trying not to cry. “Nothing really. It was just more difficult telling the residents about Emma than I anticipated. I mean, normally we don’t hear anything about the women after they leave us.”
“You should have waited for me to get back.” His gaze was full of concern as he pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
She leaned against him, absorbing his strength. It was becoming a habit for her, one she needed to break and soon. But for now, she relished being held in Kaleb’s warm embrace.
After a few seconds, she lifted her head. “Did you find anything?”
He grimaced and turned back to activate the alarm. “I messed up. I found a black truck parked on a side street, no mud on the license plates, so I didn’t really think it was the one we were looking for. Plus, I didn’t see anyone inside, and there weren’t hiding spots nearby. Just to be on the safe side, I left a message with Detective Wales. When he called me back, he confirmed the truck was likely stolen, the plates belonged to a dark green truck owned by someone in Los Angeles, not a black one. I think it must have been used by our dark-haired guy. But by the time I got back there, the truck was gone.”
She empathized with his disappointment but tried to look on the bright side. Ironically, Kaleb’s deep regret made her long to cheer him up. “You probably scared him off, Kaleb, which could be a good thing. Maybe he’ll give up and leave for good.”
“We can’t assume that. In fact, he could be feeling pretty smug about getting away. I should have done better,” Kaleb said grimly. “If I had stayed nearby or canvassed the area better, I’d have found him.”
“Don’t take responsibility for his actions,” she said. “That’s what you told me, remember?”
“I’m taking responsibility for my own actions,” he corrected. “The failure is mine. But there’s nothing I can do to change that now. Hopefully, Detective Wales will find the stolen vehicle.”
Personally, she had more faith in Kaleb than in either detective. Not that they weren’t trying, but Kaleb was the one who had obtained each lead in the case so far. “Everything has been quiet here,” she informed him.
“I was hoping that was the case,” he admitted. “I double-checked that my trip wires and net trap were still intact, but I won’t underestimate this guy again. He may have realized I have several more trip wires hidden.”
“I doubt he’s as smart as you, Kaleb.”
A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but we know he’s been smart enough to elude capture this long.”
“You mentioned before this is all part of God’s plan,” Charlotte said. “You really believe that?”
“I do. There’s a quote from Proverbs three, verses five to six: ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding: in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will keep your path straight.’”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I like that.”
“Tommy! Where are you?”
Willow’s voice had them both turning toward the stairway leading up from the rec room. “What’s wrong?” Charlotte asked.
“Tommy’s missing.” Willow’s eyes were wide with fear. “I—he was watching Mulan with the other kids, and now he’s not there. Did you see him come upstairs?”
“No, but the alarm would have sounded if he’d tried to leave the house,” Charlotte reminded her. “I’m sure he’s here somewhere.”
“Tommy? Come here right now!” Willow called sharply.
“Check your bedroom,” Kaleb suggested. “We’ll spread out and search.”
Willow bolted up the grand staircase.
“I’ll take the study,” Kaleb said. “You check the kitchen and dining room.”
“Tommy?” she called for the boy, searching possible hiding places. “You’re not in trouble, Tommy. We only want to know you’re safe.”
There was no answer. A sliver of icy fear slipped down her spine. There was no way the child could have escaped. Not without setting off the alarm.
Then she remembered the brief moments she’d clung to Kaleb before he’d turned back to activate the alarm. Was it possible Tommy had managed to open a window and go outside at that exact moment? Highly unlikely.
Yet the thought nagged at her as they continued searching the house.
“Tommy! Please come out,” Willow begged.
Charlotte went down to the recreation room to find the other three kids. Tommy was the oldest, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t seen something.
She knelt on the floor beside Rachel, Angela, and Tonya. “Did you see where Tommy went?”
“No.” Rachel shook her head while Angela stuck her thumb in her mouth.
“Is he hiding?” Tonya asked.
“Maybe, but no one else is playing hide-and-seek, right?”
The three kids shook their heads.
“I wanna watch Mulan,” Angela said, her words muffled by her thumb.
“Me too,” Tonya added as Rachel nodded vigorously.
She rose and glanced around the room. Next to the rec room there was a storage space. She expected it to be dark, but there was some light coming in from a small basement window.
Hurrying over, she examined the window. Thankfully, the window was connected to the alarm system.
The rest of the women were searching now too. As much as she tried to think logically, she couldn’t help feeling panicked. This couldn’t really be God’s plan, could it?
First Emma’s murder, now this?
Where was Tommy?