Chapter 23
Allen never did accept that his wife, Megan, died in the car accident. He refused to believe it until he saw her dead body in a coffin. That was the only way she could leave him, dead. Oh, he played the part of the grieving widower and took an extended leave from work. His coworkers thought he was mourning, he let them believe it. Told them he might even take a small trip to get away from things for a little while. What he was really doing was looking for his wife.
Allen had been a police officer for 10 years, the last 6 of those spent as a homicide detective. In those years, he made relationships that helped him be highly successful in his job but weren’t necessarily sanctioned by the department. He was reaching out to some of those contacts in his search. He looked for information on the thief first, to see if he had done anything like kidnapping in the past. All the reports he had on this guy showed he was a petty thief, taking Megan’s car was the biggest thing he ever tried to pull off.
His arrest record showed most shoplifting of alcohol and cigarettes, or small items he could pawn easily for money. What little family he had left said he had a problem with alcohol and had been homeless at the time of the accident. Allen didn’t think that this petty thief had the brains or even the desire to kidnap anyone. Allen also didn’t find anybody that the thief hung around with that had the brains or would even think about kidnapping someone.
Allen’s next step was to reach out to a computer hacker that he knew. This was a kid that he could have arrested for a crime but didn’t. The kid was so grateful that in return he would help Allen with cases when he needed him. Grateful or scared, since Allen still held the evidence that would put the hacker away. Either way, Allen didn’t care as long as he got the help he wanted when he needed it.
He took his laptop to the kid, telling him he wanted a program that automatically searched the web for keywords or even pictures that were similar to one of Megan. It took him a couple days to figure it out and work out the details. A program looking for keywords was easy, but pictures took a little bit more work. He finally got it up and running, setting it up to run constantly, sending alerts to Allen on leads that he would check out, either eliminate or investigate further. In the few months, since Megan’s disappearance, he had investigated almost 50 photos that were close to Megan but turned out not to be her.
During this time, he also gathered equipment he would need when he found her. Night vision goggles, weapons, dark clothing, untraceable smartphones, rope, duct tape, gloves, Army MREs, tent, sleeping bag, cash, and whatever else he thought that he would need. He purchased a car with cash, parking it in a storage unit in the next town over. Everything he needed was already packed in the trunk of that car. He was ready to go on a minute’s notice when he found her.
If she was still alive, he would find her, then he would make her pay. He really had believed that she would come back to him on her own, couldn’t believe that she didn’t. Stupid bitch. She was his, and she knew it. He would never let her go.
The morning that Megan/Mattie left with her new husband on her honeymoon to Alaska, Allen was in his basement looking at a wall that he had covered with maps and photos. His computer was on the desk behind him running the program as normal. Drinking a cup of coffee, he searched the wall looking for the next clue he needed. His computer dinged behind him, another hit from the web search. He took a sip of his coffee as he sat down to check out this one, probably another dead end, but he researched them all.
He pulled up the information. It was a small wedding announcement from a small town newspaper over 1,700 miles away for Mattie Austin and Jacob Vance. He read the announcement in anger. This couldn’t be his Megan, she wouldn’t be that stupid. At the bottom of the column was a picture of the bride and groom, not a professional photo but one that someone took from their cell phone of the happy couple after the wedding.
The woman in the photo didn’t look like Megan at first. Short dark hair and a small tattoo behind her ear, he almost dismissed it. Then he looked at the report produced by the program. It compared all sorts of points and took measurements of ears, the nose, the distance between the eyes, and things that couldn’t be changed with makeup or hair color. The report claimed there was a 97% possibility that this was Megan. He cropped and enlarged the picture of her, then printed it. He looked closely at the picture on the computer while it was printing. He looked at her eyes in the blown-up version, and he knew. It was Megan.
He stared at her, gripping his coffee cup. Not only had she left him, but she married someone else, illegally! He stood up, pacing back and forth. She couldn’t legally marry; she was still his wife. Mattie Austin? He looked at the photo on the computer again, then clicked back to the one with her new husband. Jacob Vance.
This man was with Allen’s wife. He was touching her. Making love to her. He’d kill both of them. He threw his coffee cup hard against the far wall of his office, which shattered when it hit. He paced for a while longer, trying to calm down. He had work to do.
He grabbed the photo from the printer, tacking it to the wall behind his desk. He sat down at the computer, reading the announcement again. According to it, the happy couple went on a honeymoon to Alaska. He clenched his fists. He pulled up the newspaper the announcement had come from and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen.
He started writing down notes. Mattie Austin. Jacob Vance. He added the name of the newspaper, researched it, finding the name of the town it was from. He pulled up Google Maps, plotting out how to get there from where he was. He printed that map, also saving it to his favorites, so he could pull it up in the car. He then grabbed his cell phone and dialed a number. He waited a few minutes, then someone answered.
“It’s me,” he said. “I need an address.” He listened, “Jacob Vance, lives in a town called Moose Lake, Minnesota.” He listened a couple minutes longer, then picked up the pen and wrote an address down on the pad. “Thanks,” he said and hung up.
He leaned back in his chair, tapping the pen on the paper. He thought for a couple minutes, then printed the announcement including the picture of Megan with her new husband. He put the map, announcement, and pictures in the folder. He grabbed his briefcase, putting the folder in it with the pad of paper and pen. He turned off his laptop, putting it in the briefcase also.
He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, unlocking the bottom drawer where he pulled out a large envelope. From there, he took out a set of car keys, which he put in his pocket, a smartphone that was untraceable. He took his other cell phone, placing it in the drawer after he shut it off. He put the envelope in the briefcase. The last thing he pulled out of the drawer was a pistol in a holster.
He unsnapped the holster, pulling the gun out. It was a Glock G-series 9 mm, smaller than what he carried as a detective, only about 4 inches tall, 6 inches long. The serial number had been filed off, so it was untraceable. He reached back down into the drawer, pulling out two extra magazines and extra rounds. Each magazine only held six rounds, so he took extra, but he knew he would only need two.
He put the extra magazines and box in the briefcase. He examined the gun, ejected the magazine, put it back in, and then put the gun back in the holster. He put the gun in the briefcase for now, he had some traveling to do before he would need it. He had larger weapons waiting for him in the storage unit. He shut the briefcase and headed up the stairs. He grabbed his jacket and headed out to his car, locking up the house behind him.
Driving to the next town, he turned into a set of buildings containing storage units. He drove slowly through the property, there was no one else around. His unit was one of the last ones on the lot. He unlocked the padlock, pulling up on the door, sliding it open to reveal a car. He took the keys out of his pocket, popping the trunk.
He double-checked that everything he needed was in there before closing the trunk. He backed the car out of the unit and then drove the other car in. He grabbed the briefcase off the front seat. Once he was back outside the unit, he closed the door, replacing the padlock to lock it back up.
He glanced around again, there was still no one around. He climbed into the car and placed the briefcase on the seat, and started to leave the property. He knew the guy that owned this set of storage units had fake security cameras set up, so there should be no one that saw one car drive in and another drive out.
He pulled up the map he had saved and then started heading down the road. The trip would take him around 27 hours. He knew Megan/Mattie and her so-called husband wouldn’t be back until next week, so while he wasn’t in a hurry he did want to get there before they got back, so he could case the town, their house, come up with a solid plan. He was going to take his time and watch their routine for a while. He wanted to make her suffer. He had all the time in the world .
He drove for several hours, finally stopping for the night at a small roadside motel. It wasn’t much, but the room was clean, and I had a shower. He slept soundly, getting up the next morning at dawn. After a shower, I went to a small diner next door, eating a huge breakfast. Soon afterward, he was back on the highway.
He made a phone call. “Hello?” a man said.
“I need some information,” Allen said.
There was a pause at the other end. “What kind?”
“I need to know what you can tell me about Moose Lake, Minnesota.”
“Taking a vacation?” the man asked.
“Maybe. Just get me the information and send it to my email. I also need information on a Jacob Vance.”
“I’ll send it later today.” Allen hung up.
The email the man would send it to was not traceable to him, the same as the laptop he brought with him.
He would review the information on Moose Lake when he stopped for the night. He figured he would drive a good nine hours today and another nine tomorrow. He drove seven yesterday so that should put him about an hour away from Moose Lake.
He drove all day, stopping only to eat and fuel up the car. He finally stopped for the night at another roadside hotel. Once in his room, he took his laptop out. The email was there, so he reviewed the information for Moose Lake. He took his time, memorizing all the ways into and out of the town, checked out the local businesses, looked for local police and emergency services and anything that he felt would be useful to know.
He then pulled up Google Maps and put in the address of where Megan lived. He wrote notes, there was only one way to her house by road. He would have to rule out that it would be too obvious and easy for him to be caught. He checked out behind her house. It appeared that her house had access to a lake. That may be his way in.
He explored the shores of the lake. There were only a couple of houses on the same side of the lake as Megan’s. There was an access road at the south end of the lake that led to a boat ramp, then traveled a little further to a small camping area. From there, it looked like forest land the rest of the way around until it came to the first house. This could be just what he was looking for.
He studied the area more. If he could figure out where to hide his car, he could hike around the lake directly across from Megan’s house. With the right scope or binoculars, he could probably see her house, the lake was not that big. He had both in the trunk. There were a couple of things he would need that he did not have. He grabbed the paper and pen, making a small shopping list. He figured he could stop in the Twin Cities to pick up what he needed from a sports shop there.
Once he thought that he had the basics of a plan started, he pulled up the file on Jacob Vance. He learned all about Jacob’s family and their ties to the community. The best plan was for him to not let himself be seen in the community at all. He couldn’t risk being seen by Jacob or his family, let alone Megan, or Mattie as she called herself these days. Bitch.
I’ll teach her a lesson. She and her young new husband. The more he read, the more incensed he grew. This guy is holding MY wife , he thought. He was doing things with MY wife that he had no right to do. Who the hell did he think he was? Seeing my wife with no clothes on, touching her body. I own her. She was mine; he had no right to her.
He finished making notes on Jacob Vance and his family. He threw the pad and paper aside and picked up the picture of his wife, the way she looks now. He studied the picture in detail. She looked like a tramp with a short, dark hairstyle and tattoo. She was wearing earrings and makeup.
I would have to teach her more than one lesson, he thought. If she refused to learn, well he would deal with that too. He went from the thought of killing her outright to dragging her home where she belonged. He would make that final decision when he did some reconnaissance.
He grabbed his cell phone and made another call. “Yeah?” a voice on the other end said.
“I need the blueprints to a house in Moose Lake, Minnesota.”
“By when?”
“Yesterday,” Allen said. He gave him the address of Megan’s house and hung up.
He put his stuff away, shutting everything off, to get some sleep. This time sleep didn’t come as easily as it did the night before. Every time he closed his eyes, he had images of Megan in bed with Jacob. He got up, pacing the room. He thought about what he would do to Megan when he got her alone, away from her so-called husband.
He would take possession of her again, show her just who she belongs to. He started imagining the things that he would do to her, to the body that belonged to him. He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door to the local bar.
He sat in a booth toward the back, where he could observe everyone in the bar. The waitress came over to him, taking his drink order. As she walked back to the bar to give his order to the bartender, he watched her. She brought his drink back. As she sat it down on the table, he said, “How about you join me, I’ll buy you a drink.”
“I’m off in an hour, how about then,” She smiled at him.
“Sure,” he said. He watched her wait on others, bringing him a couple more drinks while he waited. Finally, she got off work, sitting down with him. “I’ve never seen you here before,” she said.
“Just passing through,” he replied as they ordered some drinks. He was leaning back in his chair, “What’s your name?”
“Mya,” she said. “You?”
“Jacob,” he said.
“Where ya headed?” she asked.
“Twin Cities. Visit a buddy up there.” The waitress brought them their drinks.
“Do you always have drinks with complete strangers?” he asked.
She blushed, “No.”
He looked at her, then pointedly looked at her breasts. It was obvious she had no bra on. He looked back at her eyes. She had watched his eyes roam, blushing even more. He slid around the booth to sit next to her. They were pretty much hidden from the rest of the bar. “Yeah?” he said. “Must be my lucky night.”
He put his hand on her waist, running it up under her T-shirt to her breasts. He was watching her face. She closed her eyes, her breathing catching in her throat. He fondled her like that and then slid his hand down to her thigh and up under her short skirt. He slid his fingers into her panties and then inside of her. She groaned, putting her hand over his.
“Let’s get out of here.” He stood up, threw some money on the table, and headed to the door. He knew she was following him. They always did. They climbed into his car. He started the car and said, “Take your panties off.”
She did; he slid his hand back up her skirt. She moaned, straining against his hand. When they parked at the hotel, he got out of the car leaving her behind. She got out, following him to his room. He locked the door behind her, came up behind her, pushed her over the side of the bed, and took her like that.
She spent the night with him. He got up early, leaving before she woke up. He felt better, having worked out some frustrations with the waitress. He had gotten a little rough with her, but not enough that he worried she would go to the cops. It was obvious that she enjoyed herself.
He made his stop in the Twin Cities, picking up the rest of the things he needed. He continued traveling north, stopping in Harris, Minnesota at a gas station to fill up. He knew he was about an hour away from Moose Lake. By the time he got there, it would be dark; it would be perfect to start the next leg of his journey. When he got close, he slowed down, looking for the turnoff to the boat ramp.
He found it easily, turning onto the gravel road from the highway. He shut his lights off, the moon was almost full, so he thought he could see the road without them. Pretty soon, he came up to the boat ramp. Continuing past it, he found the campground, closed at this time of the year, just as he had figured. Just past the campground, around the curve of the lake, the road was chained off with a no entrance sign on it.
Climbing out of his car, he unhooked the chain, drove in, then hooked the chain back up. A close look around showed that there was nothing around him. He drove slowly along the road that was turning into a two-lane path. The weeds were overgrown, showing that no one had traveled on this road for a long time, probably years. He found that he was able to follow it around to where he actually wanted to end up.
At the end, there was an old cabin. This was getting better and better. He pulled the car around the back of the cabin to hide it from view. He got out of the car and walked around to the trunk. Grabbing the night vision goggles and a flashlight, even though he didn’t think he would need them, he walked around the side of the cabin to the front. He was in a heavily wooded area, but with the moonlight, he didn’t need either the goggles or the flashlight.
The front door has an old, rusted padlock on the door. This was yet another huge break for him. He figured he would be using the tent he had packed, but if this cabin was in any shape at all it would offer a better shelter, especially since it could snow any day now. He went back to the car, grabbing a pry bar. He used it to pry the lock off the door, which wasn’t too difficult .
The rust was just more evidence that no one had been here for years. Opening the cabin door slowly, he turned the flashlight on to make sure there were no wild animals in there. Not seeing or hearing any, he went inside. It was a one-room cabin, with a small fireplace on one end. Amazingly enough, there was little evidence that any animals, besides maybe a few mice, had been inside the cabin.
There was a small table with a stool which made up the only furniture in the room. On the wall opposite the fireplace was a platform built into the wall. He looked at it closer and realized it was a sleeping berth.
He tested it, but it still seemed pretty solid. This must have been a hunter’s cabin years ago, exactly what he was going to use it for. He made a few trips out to the car to carry in his supplies. Placing his sleeping bag on the berth and his camping cookware on the shelf above the fireplace. He put his MREs up there also, along with his case holding the matches.
He took the flashlight, got down on his knees, looking up at the fireplace chimney. It looked like there was a nest of sorts up there. He went out and found a long skinny tree limb. This he put up the chimney until he was able to knock the old nest down. He checked the chimney again, satisfied it was clear, he went back outside to scrounge for enough wood to keep him warm for the night. Tomorrow during daylight, he would get some better firewood.
He built a fire using the old nest as tinder, soon he had a small blaze going. He took some old rags from the car, taping them over the windows to hide any light, even though the windows were small and wouldn’t show much. After an MRE for supper, he took his phone and lay on the bed. He reviewed the email with the blueprints for Megan’s house until he was positive, he could walk through there blindfolded.
He shut his phone off to save battery although he could charge it in his car when it got low. He didn’t think he would need it much though.
Surveying the interior of the cabin, he couldn’t believe his luck at finding it. This would serve him quite nicely, better than the tent he brought, even though he had a small propane heater that would have kept him warm in the tent. He could use the heater during the day in the cabin when he wanted to be careful of smoke from the fireplace. He changed his clothes and climbed into his sleeping bag.
Tomorrow, he would work on preparations for keeping himself alive this winter, if he had time, he would walk to the lake to start some reconnaissance. He fell asleep in no time, sleeping soundly once again, only waking up a couple of times to check on the fire in the fireplace.