9:57 p.m.
After the Gulfstream V touched down in Boston, Special Agent Cruz and Ashford hopped into a waiting Chevy Tahoe and made the short drive north to Chelsea to a neighborhood on Hawthorne Street. She noticed the lack of snow on the streets. The wintery weather had bypassed Boston and the surrounding area. Although the temperatures were warmer, compared to Ohio and Pennsylvania, she was glad to have her knee boots and long underwear. A fierce wind was blowing from the north, dropping the ‘feels like’ temperature ten to fifteen degrees.
The driver of the SUV, a young agent in his mid-twenties, found an open parking spot a block away from their destination. Cruz and Ashford exited the vehicle and strode along the sidewalk. They came to a three-story brick building with a white picket fence next to wooden steps that led to the front door. The red brick building was connected to several other multi-level dwellings, creating a massive structure.
Ashford knocked on the door. The porch light came on before the curtain covering the small window in the door moved slightly. The owner had been expecting the federal agents. The door opened and Brenda Dobson appeared in the doorway, barefoot and dressed in pink sweatpants and a black sweatshirt. Feeling the rush of cold air, she folded her arms and hunched her shoulders.
Cruz presented her identification and said, “Brenda Dobson?” When the woman nodded, she motioned toward her partner. “Ms. Dobson, this is Special Agent Ashford and I’m Special Agent DelaCruz of the FBI. We’re here to speak with you about your ex-husband. You should have been expecting us.”
Brenda forced a smile. “Yes, of course. Please come in.”
Once the agents entered the house, the threesome headed for the living room. Cruz and Brenda sat on a black leather couch, while Ashford stood next to Cruz, his eyes scanning the room.
The living room was small. The usual furnishings—couch, reclining chair, coffee and end tables, were close together. The light brown walls were barren, except for a couple of paintings. Against the wall in front of the couch was a tiny entertainment center, which supported a small flat-screen television.
“Is there anything I can get you…water, coffee?” Brenda said, starting to stand.
Cruz shook her head. “No thank you.” Her words stopped the young woman. “We’re sorry it’s so late, Ms. Dobson, but it’s very important that we talk to you about your ex-husband.”
Brenda coerced another smile. Her lips parted, briefly showing a set of straight and white teeth. Bright blue eyes popped outward above her round and full cheeks. She had long blonde hair, parted on the side. Wavy bangs fell across her forehead, covering her eyebrows. Her cute physical appearance added innocence to her pleasant and charming demeanor.
Cruz regarded the woman’s features. How does someone like her end up with a monster like Harold Hawkins?
“Please call me Brenda.”
“Thank you, Brenda.” Cruz spent a few minutes sharing as many of the details as she could regarding the murders. Her next words took the sweet girl by surprise. “Brenda, we believe your ex-husband is involved in these killings.”
Brenda leaned backward. Her warm and friendly face became stoic and her body grew tense, rigid. Harold…a murderer? She lowered her gaze and stammered, “I…I don’t know what to say.”
Cruz put her hand on Brenda’s arm. The woman flinched at the touch. “Is there anything you can tell us that might help find him?”
“I don’t know. He was always a little odd. I mean…he’s a computer person…a little geeky. I can’t believe he’s capable of doing something like this.”
Ashford stuck his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. “You filed a restraining order against him. Did you feel threatened? Did you think he was going to hurt you?”
Brenda tilted her head to observe the man towering above her. “I got that because he had become paranoid during our divorce. He was spying on me at all hours of the day and night. I was scared. He thought I’d been cheating on him and I think he was trying to prove it.”
“Were you?” Ashford stated, flatly. He watched Brenda’s upper body rock backward. At the same time, Cruz shot him a menacing look and he regretted his words. He was operating on instinct, questioning the woman as if she was a suspect. He backtracked. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to accuse you of any wrongdoing.”
Cruz covered for her partner. “It’s been a long day. Please excuse us. We’ve been on the go, since early this morning.” After a short pause, she continued. “Do you know where your ex-husband might be? Does he have relatives or friends in the area or another state? Is there property somewhere where he might be staying? Anything you can remember would be helpful, Brenda.”
Shaking her head, Brenda stood and walked toward the entertainment center, her hands folded over her mouth. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen or spoken with him. Our divorce was not amicable. When it was finalized, I wanted nothing to do with him. I just wanted to move on with my life.”
The face of Cruz’s ex-boyfriend flashed across her mind. “I can certainly understand that. And, I’m sorry to have to make you relive bad memories; however, a young woman’s life is at stake. Again, any scrap of information you can remember that might lead us to your ex-husband…” Cruz let her voice trail off, waiting for the woman to respond.
Her back to Cruz and gazing at the floor, Brenda shook her head. “Nothing’s coming to mind. I wish I could help you. I really do.”
Cruz stood and fished out a business card from her pocket. It was late and the woman was tired. Pushing her to think of something was not producing results. “Thank you for your time. If you remember anything—”
Brenda whirled around and stuck her finger into the air. “Wait a minute.” She stared past Cruz’s shoulder. “Harold spoke about a piece of property…that had been in his family for decades.”
Cruz glanced at Ashford. He was already fishing for his pen and pad of paper.
Brenda rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, while gently tapping her nose with her fingertips. “He always talked about taking me to the cabin…but he never did. After all these years, I just forgot about it.” She shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I have no idea if it ever existed.”
Cruz stepped forward and put her hand on Brenda’s upper arm. “Do you know where the property is located?”
Several moments went by, while Brenda recalled her ex-husband’s words from many years ago. “I think he said it was lakefront property in…upstate New York…Albany…or Utica…” She brought her shoulders to her neck and contorted her face. “I’m not sure. I wish I knew more.”
Cruz rubbed the woman’s arm and smiled. “You’ve given us a place to start.” She faced Ashford. “Find out if Hawkins, or anyone in his family, owns property in New York.”
“I’m on it.” He pulled out his phone and left the room.
She focused on Brenda. “Can you remember anything else he might have mentioned about this cabin?”
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