Amanda and Trent were back at Central. Trent was taking care of the paperwork for Judge Anderson regarding the warrant for the video from Dumfries Elementary, and Amanda was making a call to the FBI. Specifically Brandon Fisher. He was with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, but he had also been dating her best friend, Becky, for a while.
Graves had given her the go-ahead to have the FBI search ViCap out of due diligence. The fact the Riggs were from out of state probably added impetus to the request. And it was possible that this killer had more than one burial site he used.
Amanda got Brandon’s cell number off Becky and placed the call.
“FBI Special Agent Fisher.”
“Brandon, it’s Amanda.”
There was a slight pause—poor connection or he was trying to place her. “Amanda Steele. I’m Becky’s friend,” she added.
“Oh, yes. Is everything all right with Becky?”
“She’s fine. But I’m hoping to get a little help from the FBI.”
“Not often the cops admit to that.” A clear attempt at being humorous.
“Don’t let it go to your head. You’ve told me in the past if I ever needed a search done in ViCap, you’d facilitate that.”
“Of course. Nadia Webber is the best.”
“And she is?”
“IT and analysis. She’s integral to the team, and she can handle the search.”
“Great. Could I get her direct line from you?”
Brandon told her, and Amanda scribbled it down as he went.
“I’ll let her know to expect your call,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. And good—”
“Brandon.” It was a man’s voice, and Amanda wondered if it was Jack Harper, Brandon’s boss, who she’d heard Becky mention before. It seemed he was hard on his agents but a solid man.
“Sounds like you have to go.” She was smiling.
“Good luck.” With that Brandon hung up, and Amanda called Nadia.
She was helpful and intelligent. She listened carefully as Amanda filled her in on the investigation details as they related to the victims and burial sites.
“This is plenty to get me started. I’ll run this through ViCap, and see what comes back.”
“Thank you, Nadia.”
“Don’t mention it.”
They ended the call, and Trent was looking at Amanda.
“Brandon going to help?” he asked.
She nodded. Trent knew Brandon too.
“The paperwork’s been sent to Judge Anderson. Want to look at Jill Archer’s phone records?”
“You know I do.”
They dug in and had a rough and dirty answer as to her last location—just which tower her phone had last pinged. No specifics. They quickly discerned Jill had been in contact with one person—Roy Archer. Either he was calling or messaging and vice versa.
Many of his texts were variations on “why aren’t you answering your phone?” and “call me back ASAP.” Roy had messaged her as recently as the past weekend, but then seemed to give up.
“A digital leash,” Trent mumbled. “Before she went missing, it looks like there were times she didn’t respond. The last time she did was a week ago Monday, confirming dinner would be ready when he got home.”
“Can’t imagine living like that. And quite sure that based on the time of these messages, there are also corresponding phone calls.” Amanda shifted a few sheets of paper and confirmed her suspicion. “If she didn’t answer, then he’d text.”
“And not just once. He harassed her.” Trent pointed out one string of texts—all from Roy to Jill, each message crueler than the last. No responses. “This was from the week prior to her disappearance.”
“Not that he mentioned any of this to us.”
“Why would he? The guy’s an ass. Nothing surprises me. I still think he intended to shoot me, not himself.”
Amanda didn’t want to get roped into this conversation again. At least Trent was alive and employed. If he pushed things, she wasn’t confident he’d walk off with his badge intact and without a mark on his record. In the strictest sense, Trent assaulted an unarmed man.
“All right, so if Roy was this obsessive about knowing his wife’s every move—the phone calls and follow-up texts tell us that much—did he take things further?”
“How do you mean?”
“I wish I thought of this sooner, but there are apps that can be installed on phones that allow parents, for example, a means of tracking a child’s activity and precise location. They’re often loaded right on the phone. Roy could have done this to his wife’s.”
“He’d be just the type,” Trent said.
“Again, not that he shared it with us.”
“The guy was probably preoccupied with how it would make him look.”
“Well, we’re beyond that now. Let’s go pay Roy Archer a visit.”
“Oh bliss.”
“That’s if you think you can refrain from hitting him this time.”
“I’ll do my best.” His face was stark serious for several seconds, but then relaxed. “I’m fine, Amanda. I can handle myself.”
She wasn’t sure she believed he was fine, but as long as he kept his temper in check and remained professional, all should go well. She clicked the button to close her email app just as one filtered in from Rideout. Then her phone lit with a text.
Just sent the early findings to your inbox.
“Just before we go, it looks like I have Rideout’s autopsy results.”
Trent walked around to her cubicle as she reopened the program and clicked on Rideout’s message. She scanned down, focusing on the highlights. The findings for both Connie and Jodi Riggs read much the same.
Time of death: four weeks, approximate.
Cause of death: transection of spinal cord due to manual manipulation of neck.
Patterned contusions on back consistent with tight embrace.
Mother showed signs of physical abuse dating prior to her death by close to two weeks. X-rays showed previous breaks and fractures in various stages of healing.
No indication of bondage.
Both well-nourished.
Interesting difference to Archer case: Livor mortis found in bodies consistent with how each victim was positioned in the grave.
Amanda paused reading. “Could be the time of day the Riggs were killed that made a quick burial easy enough.”
“Right, and with the Archers, if he killed them during the day, he’d likely have waited until nightfall to bury them.”
“Could be.” Amanda turned back to the email and pointed to the list of items Rideout was forwarding to the lab.
Fingernail scrapings
Wedding ring and band
Clothing
They would already have the stuffed rabbit.
“That right there too,” Trent said. “Connie Riggs was buried with her wedding ring. An oversight or message? Does it mean anything at all? And what happened to Jill’s band? Did she not wear one or did the killer remove it?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Obviously monetary gain has nothing to do with his motivations or he’d have taken her rings.”
“Unrelated but something else has been nagging at me on and off. How hard did this guy have to hug them before he killed them to cause bruising? It almost strikes me that he was feeling remorseful before he broke their necks. Like he wanted to hold on to them, but something compelled him to take their lives.”
“Are you suggesting he has multiple personalities?”
“I sure hope not.”
“That makes two of us. Just one quick search and we can go.” She opened Missing Persons and breathed easier when no new reports showed for mothers and daughters. She hoped Nadia Webber with the FBI wasn’t finding anything either.
“I could have told you there was nothing as of twenty minutes ago. I guess I’m not the only one obsessing about this.”
“Trent, we have to find this guy before more people lose their lives.”
“No need to even say it.”
They left the station and floored it to the Archer residence. Roy answered the door, his nose a brilliant purple where it wasn’t in a splint. He leaned against the frame as if to help him stay upright.
Trent looked over at Amanda as if to say, “that wasn’t me.” Apparently, Roy Archer made friends everywhere he went.
Amanda reached out to steady him, even though there was a small part of her that wouldn’t hate to see him fall and smash his broken nose. Just more of a sampling of what he’d doled out on his wife. “Mr. Archer, you’re drunk.”
“Ooooh”—he wriggled his hands—“someone’s a detective.”
“Let’s get you sobered up,” Trent said with authority.
Roy covered his mouth, his cheeks puffing out, followed by a large swallow that had his Adam’s apple bulging. “Why would I want to do that?”
Amanda turned away. The guy spoke right in her face and reeked of bile. She made eye contact with Trent, and he guided Roy inside to the living room couch.
“Stay right there,” Trent told him.
Amanda entered the kitchen in search of a glass and got Roy some tap water. “Here,” she said, handing it to Roy.
“Why are you two in my house?” Even seated, his head and upper torso had a soft sway to them.
“We have questions about your wife’s phone,” Amanda started.
“What does it matter? She’s dead. Charlotte’s… dead.”
“It matters because we’re working to find out who did this to them. And another mother and daughter are dead too. You know this.” Though given his heightened state of inebriation, she wasn’t too sure he was aware of anything.
“It wasn’t me.” The swaying stopped, and he sparked sober for a second.
“We’ve been through that too,” Amanda said stiffly. “Did you install a tracking app on your wife’s phone?”
“Yes, I did.” Roy belched, and it had Amanda stepping back.
“Why didn’t you tell us before?” Trent asked, a snip to his tone. “If you had come forward with this from the start, we could have caught their killer by now.”
“How would that look… me watching her every move? You were already convinced I’d killed them.”
“We need to look at the tracking app, Mr. Archer,” she rushed, getting in there before Trent might say or do something he’d regret.
“Sure. There’s a copy loaded on the computer in the office. App’s called Every Step. The password is ‘ironman’, one word, all lowercase.”
Amanda nudged her head toward Trent, and the two of them went down the hall.
“Ironman, my ass. I’m going to squeeze the life out of…” Trent stopped speaking when she glared at him. He held up his hands. “I know, I know…”
She sat at a table being used as a computer desk and logged on to the computer. She selected the app, and a history of Jill’s movements filled the screen.
Roy came to the doorway, leaned against it. “She didn’t do anything exciting.”
“Let us be the judge of that,” Trent replied.
“Is there a way to print the activity?” Amanda would love to get out of this house and away from Roy.
“The button in the top right-hand corner.”
She clicked it, and an inkjet printer thrummed to life and kicked out several pages.
Roy stumbled into the room. “Hold up. How much did you print? I’m not made of money and toner.”
Trent put up his hands, and Roy stayed back.
“Just don’t punch me again.”
While the printer worked, Amanda scrolled through the activity, starting from the most recent at the top. She quickly noticed that repeated coordinates popped up every Sunday. She opened an internet window and searched. “Prince Park.”
“I told you that Jill took Charlotte there.”
Amanda bristled. “Taking her there is one thing, but doing so on a predictable schedule is another. As a cop, you should know that.”
“Not a cop anymore thanks to you two!” Roy roared, spittle dripping onto his chin. “First, my family, then my job.”
Might give you a chance to rethink your life… Amanda bit back the words. They were cruel, even if they held a spark of truth. It was sad that it took the loss of life for the evaluation to occur.
She turned to Trent, wanting to pick up on their findings but was struck mute for a second. His glee over Roy’s loss of employment was impossible to miss. His eyes were glistening, and the start of a smile tugged at his mouth. She cleared her throat, hoping it might snap him back from his internal celebration. “The killer could have latched on to Jill and Charlotte at the park.”
“Except for that’s not the last place she went.” Trent pointed to the screen.
He was looking at the Tuesday that Roy said they had disappeared. Amanda entered those coordinates into her phone, and it brought her to a shopping plaza in Woodbridge. A quick search told her it offered a grocery store, a bank, a hair salon, and a doctor’s office. The commute from Dumfries to Woodbridge was nothing, and the latter town was larger and offered more amenities. “Do you know why Jill would have gone to Woodbridge Plaza?”
“Ah, she grocery shops there, at Corey’s Grocer, and our family doctor practices out of the clinic there.”
“Your doctor’s name?”
“Dr. Cannon.”
Amanda latched gazes with Trent. Roy had told them Charlotte had an upset stomach but had dismissed a visit to a doctor. It turned out Jill may have taken her anyway. Had the killer taken mother and daughter from the clinic or that plaza? And/or had he known them prior, possibly from the park? Did he force them to go with him, or use an established trust? Was she entirely off the mark? And did any of this tie back to the man from outside Dumfries Elementary? Amanda wished to fully dismiss him, but he was one piece of the puzzle that had yet to be sorted.
“We’ve been looking at your wife’s phone records,” Amanda said. “There were several messages from you, many one-way communications where you were looking for you wife. Couldn’t you have consulted this?” She flicked a finger toward the screen, indicating the tracking app.
“She’d turn her phone off sometimes. She didn’t think I knew, but I did.”
This fit with what the Meyers had told them. “Seems like she had to if she wanted to spend any time with her parents.” A jab at his conscience, though she doubted he had one.
“Uh-huh.”
“What about other times? Do you know where she went?” Trent asked.
“No clue.”
“Guess there were limits to your digital leash,” Trent pushed out.
A brief amusement toyed with the corners of Roy’s mouth as if he were delighted by the terminology. It pushed anger through Amanda’s bloodstream. “If she’d turn her phone off, she must have known you were tracking her.”
“If she was smart enough to figure that out.”
Just when it didn’t seem possible Roy Archer could be more obnoxious, there was drunk Roy Archer. The times Roy was unable reach Jill would show as gaps in her movements. But at least the tracker gave them something to work with, like the plaza and her routine of going to Prince Park on Sundays. “Any other places your wife went regularly, Mr. Archer?” She felt a twinge of joy at not addressing him as Officer.
“She attended church. New World something or other.”
“How nice of you to let her go alone,” Trent hissed sarcastically.
“So the park, then church?” she asked.
“That’s right.”
Yet he had told them Jill had no friends. Did he not think to mention the church membership or intentionally decide to withhold that too? She’d confront him, but what was the point? “We’re going to take this printout with us. Do you have a problem with that?” she challenged him.
Roy shook his head and lost his footing.
“May I suggest you drink some coffee,” she said as she passed him, holding her breath, and she and Trent showed themselves out.
“To the doctor’s office?” Trent said, turning on the car.
“You bet.”
“And you’ve noticed that we’ve been led back to Prince Park? He could have met all four of his victims there. The ones we know about anyway.”
She groaned. “Really? You had to go there?”
“Keeping it real. Also in that vein, there are times unaccounted for on the app. Who knows where she went then? Who knows if the plaza was her last stop?”
“You’re the bearer of good news.” Sarcasm through and through. The fact Jill would go offline, though, showed a spirit that defied her husband. Admirable but she likely paid for her independent streak. Amanda added, “It would be a long shot, but we could ask people at the park if they know of a mother and daughter who may have stopped going. They could be the killer’s lost family if we pursue that theory.”
“Or more victims.”
“Would you stop? Let’s think positively.”
“Amen to that.”
Amanda doubted God was even listening, but if Trent wanted to put faith in a Greater Being, so be it. Whatever brought a killer to justice was good with her.