James Swain - The Night Stalker

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I’m not done,” I said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Who knew that Angelica was coming to school today?”

“Do you think one of them is responsible?”

“Please answer the question.”

“Let me think. Her new teacher knew, and Sally, my receptionist. I also spoke to the school doctor, since all new children are required to have checkups.”

“So four people knew,” I said.

“That’s only three,” Heller said.

“I’m including you,” I said.

Heller’s mouth dropped open, but no words came out. An uncomfortable silence filled the office. I pointed at the phone on her desk.

“Please round up the other three,” I said.

Heller called her receptionist, the school doctor, and Angelica’s new teacher, and asked them to meet us in the media room. Hanging up, she glared at me.

“Do you think that I might be implicated in this?” she asked indignantly.

“The four of you knew Angelica was coming to school today. That makes you all suspects until proven otherwise. It’s how missing kids investigations work.”

“Guilty until proven innocent.”

“That’s right.”

“So I shouldn’t take this personally.”

I nodded. Heller stood up, and came around her desk. Her movements were brisk, and I could tell she was pissed off.

“After all,” she said, “I’m the one who called the police.”

I followed her into the hall. She shut the door behind her, took a key from her pocket, and locked it. Watching her, I noticed something that I hadn’t seen before.

“You don’t have a sign on your door,” I said.

“I moved into the office last week. The sign’s on order.”

Heller started to walk down the hall. I remained behind, and stared at her blank door. She came back to where I stood.

“Are you coming?” she asked.

My mind was working hard now, seeing what I hadn’t seen before. I tore my eyes away from the door, and looked at her. “You said that Angelica’s mother appeared in your office yesterday morning. How did she know where to find you?”

“Someone must have brought her to me.”

“Any idea who?”

Heller shook her head.

I envisioned Angelica’s mother coming to the school the day before, and getting lost. An employee had come to her aid, and escorted her to Heller’s office. Along the way, they’d talked, and she’d talked about her daughter, while unwittingly passing along information-perhaps a nickname, or the name of a pet-that would let a stranger gain the child’s confidence. That was why Angelica hadn’t cried or kicked up a fuss when she’d left Heller’s office.

“Where would she have parked?” I asked.

“In the visitor’s lot in front,” Heller said.

“Is that the only place?”

“Yes.”

I thought about the security guard sitting outside in the golf cart. He would have seen Angelica’s mother yesterday, and, hopefully, the employee who had befriended her.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” I said.

E very public school in Florida employed a security guard. Oakwood’s guard was a guy in his twenties with a bodybuilder’s physique and a pistol strapped to his waist. His nametag said Ed Edwards.

Most security guards were guys who couldn’t pass the test to become cops. Edwards was sucking on a Coke, and appeared overly caffeinated. I introduced myself, and told him I was looking for Angelica Suarez. I asked him if he minded answering a few questions.

“Not at all,” he said. “Have a seat.”

I slid into the empty seat of his golf cart. Buster hopped into the back, expecting a ride. It was funny, only Edwards didn’t smile. If we didn’t find Angelica Suarez, he would probably lose his job.

“Yesterday morning, Angelica Suarez’s mother came to school to register her daughter,” I said. “Someone helped her find the principal’s office. I was wondering if you happened to see who helped her.”

Edwards’s eyes glazed over as he plumbed his memory. “Come to mention it, I did. She parked over by the fence. She looked confused, and started talking to a maintenance guy cutting the grass.”

“Did he take her inside?”

“I’m not sure. I got pulled inside for a minute. When I came back out, she was gone, and so was the maintenance man, only his mower was still there.”

“Had he finished cutting the grass?”

“I don’t think so. There was a patch still left.”

“What’s his name?”

“Ray Hicks.”

“Can you describe him for me?”

“Sure. Ray’s my age, pretty tall, but out of shape. Tends to keep to himself. The first time I met him, he made my skin crawl. I called my brother who’s a cop over in Jacksonville, and he had a records check pulled on him. Hicks was clean.”

“But he bothered you?”

“Yeah.”

Intuition was the messenger of fear. Edwards’s intuition had told him that Ray Hicks was a bad character, even if there was no evidence to prove it. I thanked him for his help and went back inside.

The media room was directly off the main entrance, and was filled with computers, DVD players, and other electronic equipment that kids needed to learn how to use so they could teach their parents. I found Heller and three other people, who I assumed were the teacher, the receptionist, and the school doctor, sitting at a rectangular table in the room’s center. I pulled Heller off to the side.

“What can you tell me about a maintenance man named Ray Hicks?” I asked.

“Do you think he’s the one?” Heller asked.

“He’s in the running.”

“Ray works part-time cutting the grass and pruning. He’s never been a problem, although I’ve caught him lurking around the halls a few times. I guess you could say he’s a bit strange.”

“Is there a reason you didn’t mention him before?”

“All the maintenance men are strange.”

“Does he have a place where he stores his things?”

“He has a locker.”

“I’d like to see it.”

Heller took me to the maintenance men’s locker room, which was adjacent to the school cafeteria. Each locker had a piece of masking tape with its occupant’s name printed on it. Hicks’s locker was at the end of the row, and was padlocked.

“Is this locker school property?” I asked.

“Everything on the grounds is school property,” she replied.

“We need to cut away this padlock. Where can I find some clippers?”

Heller led me to the tool room. Sixty seconds later, I cut away the padlock on Hicks’s locker with a pair of steel clippers, and had a look inside. The locker contained a pair of work shoes, a change of clothes, and a can of Old Spice aftershave. Tucked in the back was a three-ring binder. I flipped through its pages, and found myself reading a series of e-mails between Hicks and someone who called himself Teen Angel. The e-mails discussed how to abduct a child from a public place, and included tips on how to gain the child’s trust, and deal with things like temper tantrums and crying fits. I found myself shaking my head. Teen Angel had tutored Hicks over the Internet.

I came to the last e-mail in the binder. It was dated only a few short days ago. Teen Angel had wished Hicks good luck, and given him some parting advice. It read, Remember, TWO HOURS MAX!

I knew what that meant. Two hours was the maximum amount of time that most abductors wanted to keep a child before turning them over to a buyer.

“How long has Angelica been gone?” I asked.

Heller looked at her watch. “One hour and fifty minutes.”

We were running out of time. I tried to put myself in Hicks’s shoes. This was the first time he’d done this. My guess was, he’d taken Angelica to a place where he felt safe.