Chapter 22
Tessa
“Three different schools in the past four years.”
Rick Althof is updating Hugo and myself in Hugo’s office on his task force meeting in Spokane this morning.
I’ve been on pins and needles ever since I spoke with Mancuso yesterday. It’s frustrating being locked out of the investigation, and I spent a few hours last night, and a couple more this morning, surfing the internet to dig up whatever I could on Remi’s shop teacher from last year.
Mr. B was what the kids called him. Doyle Benjamin, my son’s forty-three-year-old teacher, who appeared to be a guiding light to many of his students, including Remi. Except, as it turns out, the man was not so much in the business of inspiring the younger generation, but rather exploiting them.
“Also, he turns out to be sidelining as a youth leader, or minister, for several faith communities. Those seem to change with the same frequency his teaching jobs do,” he continues. “He created himself quite a pool to pick impressionable kids from.”
“Kids he could mold and shape to create his own little crime gang of devotees,” Hugo observes, his jaw clenched.
The pattern is chilling, as Rick outlines everything the FBI has uncovered about this man so far. Almost diabolical.
“Is there enough to pick him up?” I wonder out loud.
“Mancuso doesn’t want to jump the gun on that.
He’s going to need more concrete evidence before he shows his hand and this guy slips through our fingers,” Althof explains.
“Even if they can make something stick for the car theft ring, at this point, there are still two murders that need to be proven. They are going to make sure whatever charges they bring will keep the man behind bars. The feds had already infiltrated the app he’s using to communicate with those kids.
That’s how they were able to track the guy to that internet café.
But even before that they were gathering information, were monitoring some targeted locations from the intel they’d pulled, and in the last couple of days, directed local law enforcement to intervene in a series of vehicle thefts.
They’ve tracked down some of these boys, and found out that piece of shit was indeed targeting mostly boys of single-mother households.
At this point in time, some of those kids are starting to talk, Mancuso is taking notes, hoping maybe one of them may also have information to connect Benjamin to these murders. He’s building his case.”
“Did he mention Remi at all?” I want to know.
“Just that your kid confirmed the security feed was indeed his former shop teacher.”
Good. I’m glad he finally came clean, and now that there are more kids talking, the focus shouldn’t be on Remi anymore.
As soon as we’re done here, I’m going to put another call in to Special Agent Mancuso. Given these new developments, it doesn’t seem necessary to keep my son hidden away anymore.
So far, we’ve stuck to the cover story Remi is staying with relatives to heal from the injuries he sustained in the attack which, we claimed, turned out to be more serious than initially thought.
We had to come up with something to explain his absence from school.
He’d just been back for one day before disappearing again.
Nobody questioned the explanation, since concussions and any other kind of head injury can be quite unpredictable.
But he’s missing quite a bit of school, and I think it’s time he comes home.
“…any evidence there is a connection to Edwards County?” I just catch Hugo asking.
“Not really,” Althof responds. “Tessa nor I were able to find any evidence of a storage location or transit station where the stolen vehicles would be processed and transported from. Doesn’t mean it’s not there,” he hurries to add. “It just means we haven’t found anything.”
I guess we’re still dealing with the question of how that Mustang and Ryan Wells’s body ended up on Black Mountain. It may just have been a fluke, or it could even have been a deliberate choice to divert attention from somewhere else. Who the hell knows?
The moment we’re done, I head for my desk and put a call into Mancuso. I was fully expecting to leave a message, but to my surprise he answers on the second ring.
“Rick briefed you,” he says by way of greeting.
“He did,” I confirm. “You’ve made some progress.”
“That we have.”
“And I understand my son confirmed his teacher’s involvement?”
“Reluctantly, but yes. Just like what became obvious from interviews with a few other boys, Remi has a serious attachment to this Mr. B as well. They view him as something of a father figure. It sounds like he preyed on their weaknesses, their vulnerabilities, and managed to fill a role each of these kids were lacking. The boys were made to feel special, selected to become part of the chosen few, so to speak. Lured with the promise of something they were craving, they were slowly reeled in, gently molded before being subjected to loyalty tests.”
I was already angry, but now I feel the bile crawling up my throat. Having it laid out like that is terrifying. The simple fact some predator has found a way to exploit the one thing I, as a single mother, am not able to provide for my child, is so cunning and devious, it turns my stomach.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if every single one of these kids will need some counseling at the end of this,” Mancuso continues. “Remi may have gotten out before too much damage was done, but even he will likely be struggling.”
That’s the part that makes me want to physically hurt Doyle fucking Benjamin. My child’s trust was already damaged after witnessing his father’s abuse and experiencing his abandonment. His insecurities already colored his relationship with me and his brother.
Because of this bastard, it’s going to be even harder for Remi to believe in himself or trust others.
I need my son here now. The sooner I can start working at earning his trust and building his confidence, the better.
“I want him home.”
It’s silent on the other side for a few beats before Jason comes back.
“Give me today. I’ll have him back to you tomorrow morning.”
As much as I hate it, the law enforcement officer in me recognizes the potential importance of timing.
Mancuso is hot on Benjamin’s trail, and any shift in momentum could potentially change the outcome.
There are other boys like Remi out there who are at risk and not safely tucked away under the protection of the FBI the way my son is.
One more night is not a big deal.
“Okay,” I concede.
Clem
“That’s the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen.”
I was expecting Missy Gentry to show up at some point to pick up her vehicle, but I’m finding it hard to look her in the eye after what we discovered up by the quarry yesterday.
I’m pretty sure Mouse doesn’t understand the insult the woman just dropped, but just in case some of the message got through, I crouch down in front of the dog and give her some scratches to make up for the harsh words.
“Manuel!” I call, without acknowledging Missy’s comment. “Can you grab Ms. Gentry’s keys?”
“I was hoping I could have a word with you.”
Reluctantly, I rise to my feet and face her.
“About?”
She looks around, a little uneasy. “Somewhere private?”
I gesture to my office, where Manuel is just emerging with her keys. The large window allows for a full view of the shop, so privacy is limited, which is just fine with me.
Missy leads the way, and Mouse follows me inside, ducking under the desk where she immediately curls up. This morning I let her come down to the shop with me, and she’s been a good girl, sticking close to me all day. I don’t think I need to worry about her taking off.
“What can I help you with?” I prompt Missy when she seems at a loss for words, wringing the strap of her purse in her hands.
“I…was wondering if you happen to know how Mayor Merrick is doing? Is he okay? Is he still at the hospital?” she asks worriedly.
I suddenly feel a bit sorry for the woman, her concern looks genuine.
I guess that’s the lot of a secret lover, you have no rights and are limited in your access to the person you’re involved with.
The asshole is probably already home, scrambling to make up a believable story for his wife as to his whereabouts.
“I have no idea,” I tell her.
“Could you maybe find out?” she pleads, an alarming wobble in her voice. “He’s not answering my messages.”
As much as I empathize with her—and as eager as I am to avoid messy tears—I refuse to become some kind of messenger boy between those two. They can sort out their own shit.
“Look, I’m sorry, I’m not sure I’m comfortable getting involved in whatever this is,” I let her down as kindly as I can. “Now, if you don’t mind, I really should get back to work.”
She nods once, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable—especially given my new image of her as some kind of dominatrix—and turns to open my office door.
“I almost forgot,” she says. “I should pay you for the tow.”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that now. We’ll tack it on next time you’re in for an oil change.”
Manuel approaches her as she steps out of the office.
“I pulled your vehicle out front, ma’am,” he informs her. “The keys are in the console.”
“Thank you,” she mumbles as she rushes for the door.
“What was that all about?” Manuel inquires curiously.
“Ah, nothing. Dealing with the bill, that’s all.”
As much as I don’t want to be within a mile of Merrick and Missy’s illicit affair, I also don’t feel the need to blow the whistle on that relationship. It’s not my business.
I head back to my office, where I can hear Mouse snoring from under my desk.
Sitting down, I boot up my computer, determined to catch up on some paperwork and get a few orders out we’ll need next week.
Normally, I’m on top of things like this, but there have been so many distractions lately, I’ve fallen out of the habit.
It’s not the only thing I’ve slacked off on; last night I missed my weekly poker game again.
It totally slipped my mind, until my phone started blowing up when I was at Tessa’s place.
Most of the messages were from Buck, and to avoid becoming the subject of his ongoing harassment, I quickly responded that I’d opted to stay with Mouse to give her a chance to get used to me.
Not technically a lie, since the dog was lying at my feet at the time, but I didn’t volunteer those feet were under Tessa’s table.
Going forward though, I should probably see if Tessa would come with me to The Kerrigan at some point. Give the boys an opportunity to embarrass me in front of her, and be done with all of that.
I finish sending out the orders, and spend some time checking several online suppliers for that Chevy transmission for Remi’s truck.
The only one I come across has a ridiculous price tag.
Still, I save the link, in case I’m not able to locate a transmission anywhere else.
I still have a few other junkyards to call first.
Tessa walks into my office, just as I leave my last voicemail message, and sinks down in the chair on the other side of my desk.
“What’s wrong?”
She looks at me and shakes her head. “The man was a youth minister. Can you believe it?”
I’m pretty sure I know what man she’s referring to. Last night she was struggling to come to terms with the fact her son’s shop teacher looks to have been involved in that car-theft ring investigation. Maybe even two murders.
I already had trouble believing a teacher—someone you’d expect to look out for the welfare of the kids he teaches—could manipulate and exploit his students like that.
Finding out he also used religion to target those boys doesn’t even seem like such a stretch.
It says enough about this Benjamin guy to know if ever I came face-to-face with him, I don’t know if I’d be able to keep from pounding the ever-loving snot out of him, or at least try to.
“I don’t think man is an appropriate descriptor for that miserable piece of shit,” I grind out between clenched teeth.
“Exactly,” she confirms, smiling her appreciation at the fact we are of equal minds.
“But he’s going down, and his crime ring with him.
Sadly, it will leave a number of kids, not unlike Remi, having to deal with the fallout.
Whether it be emotional trauma, family estrangement, criminal charges, or likely all of the above.
The real victims in this devious design of his are those kids. ”
I nod my agreement. I would imagine for some of those boys there may not be any way out of this. No one who cares enough to fight for them, so they’ll likely disappear into a cycle of crime because there is nothing else they trust.
Compared to them, Remi is lucky. To start with, he didn’t get sucked too deep into this organization yet, but also, he has people in his corner, his mother and brother. Hell, I’ll go to bat for the kid too.
“There’s a reason those kids turned to him to begin with,” I point out. “What’s going to happen to them once the dust settles? That void they were trying to fill will only be larger once he’s taken out of the picture. There’s gotta be something that can be done.”
I swing my chair around when Tessa gets up and rounds my desk, a little smirk on her lips.
She sits down on my lap and kisses me, as my arms band around her.
I don’t give a flying fuck about the window and being in full view of the guys in the shop.
They’d better get used to it, because I don’t plan to ever stop touching or kissing this woman.
I wasn’t looking, but Tessa rolled into my life, and I’m totally hooked.
“I’m falling,” she mumbles against my lips.
“I’m already sunk, Ilusake, so feel free to let go.”