Chapter 13
HE WOULD never have guessed working a specific list of names would be so damned hard. Grant had been able to track down two people on the list. As soon as the first man opened the door, Grant knew instantly he couldn’t be the person he was looking for.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said after introducing himself to the man, who was balancing on crutches. “When did you break your leg?” he asked. “That must be painful.”
“I fell a few weeks ago and had to have surgery on it because the bone was a mess. Who would have thought that running down a hill with my four-year-old would end up with me getting hurt and him trying to take care of me?” He rolled his eyes, and immediately Grant mentally scratched him off the list.
“We’re just canvassing in the neighborhoods. Making sure parents are aware that three boys have been taken in the last few weeks. We’re asking the schools and parents to be vigilant and watch for anyone suspicious.” He smiled as the man nodded.
“Yeah, I heard. I work at LeTort, but I’m off on disability for the next month at least. Maybe longer.
” He easily held himself upright, which told Grant that he had been using the crutches for a while.
People who had just gotten them were incredibly unsteady, but once they got used to them, people tended to balance pretty well.
“My wife takes our son and daughter to school, and she picks them up at night.”
“Thank you,” Grant said and left. There was no need to question him any further.
This was not the person he was looking for.
The next name on the list wasn’t home, and the following address was answered by a woman who said she had been living there for two months and had no idea where the previous occupant had moved to.
Grant thanked her and continued down his list, finding plenty of people not at home.
The last name on the list turned out to be a retiree who volunteered at the school.
He checked the date of birth again and wondered what was wrong, because it should have been someone much younger.
“That’s my son. He volunteers at the school as well.” He held out his hand. “I’m Hansen Gunderson Senior. Can you tell me why you’re looking for Hansen Junior? Has he done something?”
“There have been a few issues at Mooreland that we’re looking into. Can you tell me when you expect him to be back?”
“Hansen said he was going to be away for a few weeks. I used to volunteer at the schools as a library assistant up until a few years ago. Then the winters got to be too much, and I spent them in a chair because my arthritis hurt so bad.” He was nice enough.
“Should I tell Hansen that you’re looking for him? ”
Grant nodded and handed Hansen a card. “Please ask him to give us a call.” He smiled and left, returned to the car to check on Dexter, and then drove back to the station.
“Did you get anywhere?” Atlas asked when he got to their area in the station. He was at his desk writing reports, and Grant flopped into his chair.
“What good is a list if you can’t find anyone?
The hardest part is that school is about to end for the year, and then the kids will be on break, and everyone will scatter for the summer.
” He was really starting to feel the pressure to catch this guy fast. Not only did he not want any more children to go missing, but his suspects might go on vacation.
He also didn’t know if the guy actually worked at the school, or just happened to know someone who did and found out which door to use.
“There has to be a better way to—” He gasped and picked up the phone.
“What is it?” Atlas asked.
He held up a finger. “Marty…. Got a question. When you go to the historical society, do you have to sign in somehow?”
“Yeah. They ask you to at each visit. Part of it is to get you to sign up and help support them. Cameron is in school, so I can meet you there if you want. But I have to pick him up at three.”
“Sure. Come on down.” Maybe it would be easier if he met them with someone they knew. “I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.” Grant got Dexter ready to go.
“You found something?”
“Just an idea. Marty told me about the cisterns because he had been researching his own house and found out about it in the original records. What if the person I’m after found out the same way?
What if he’s doing research at the same place Marty is?
” He headed out and loaded Dexter in the back of the SUV.
Then he headed over to the historical society.
Marty was waiting for him. “I talked to one of the managers,” he said with a smile.
“Thanks.” He approached the person behind the counter and explained why he was here.
“Sharon is waiting for you in her office,” the lady said and pointed him toward a door. Grant went through with Marty and was greeted by a bright-eyed, smiling lady in her late thirties.
“What is it I can do for you?” Sharon asked as she motioned to a pair of chairs across from her desk. Grant closed the door and sat down. Marty took the other chair, with Dexter sitting between them.
“I’m with the Carlisle Police K-9 unit, and I’m working a case where three small boys have been taken and held. We’ve found them and all three are now safe, but we’re running down leads.”
“I’ve been doing research here at the historical society, and I found out some interesting things about my home and some of the other buildings in the area,” Marty added. “Things that helped Grant find some of the missing children.”
“I see. That’s wonderful.” Sharon was genuinely pleased.
“Yes, it is. But what I’m concerned with is, what if the kidnapper is also doing the same kind of research here?
We have had a child left in an old, forgotten cistern and even behind a wall in a basement.
” She swallowed hard. “The last child was found inside an empty water tank. All of these places are quite hidden, and no one would normally know about them. I’m wondering if it would be possible to get a copy of your visitor log.
That way I can check it with some other information that we have, to see if there is any commonality. ”
She hesitated. “I’m going to need to get the director. I can’t make that kind of decision.” She stood and left the room, returning with a man in his early thirties, who introduced himself as Mark Phillips.
“I understand you’d like access to our visitor logs,” he said in a calm, soft voice. “I’m not sure I can give you that.”
Marty stiffened next to him, but Grant wasn’t fazed. “You’re supported in part by the county, correct?” He waited, and Mark nodded.
“Yes.”
“Then the information owned by the historical society is public information, because it is funded, at least in part, with public money. So I’m making a request for all your visitor information for the last two years.
I need it to catch a serial kidnapper. This is not some random request.” He held Mark’s gaze and waited until he turned to Sharon.
“Give this officer the information he needs. I’m sure he will handle it with the proper care and discretion.” What did he think Grant was going to do—publish it on the internet? Sometimes people watched way too much crime television.
“All right.” She was clearly not convinced.
“I’ll need you to give me names and dates and times that they visited,” Grant explained.
Sharon shrugged and logged into her computer. It took a while, but she then handed him a thumb drive. “Please handle this with discretion.”
“Of course I will. This will be part of the investigation and entered into evidence. It will be controlled and only used on secured systems.” He smiled at her. “I really appreciate all your help.”
“So do I,” Marty said. “My foster son is one of the children who was taken, and he’s still dealing with the aftermath. So what you did is going to help keep other kids safe.” Damn, Marty was as strong and kind as anyone he had ever met.
Sharon nodded slowly. “Good.” She shook their hands, and Grant left the office with Dexter and Marty, who hurried to his car.
“I have to go pick up Cameron in ten minutes. Will we see you later?” he asked, and Grant nodded.
“I can come over after work.” He had a ton to do, and hopefully he and the guys could mine the data he had into something useful.
At least, that was what he was hoping. Just making a connection wasn’t enough to identify the kidnapper, but maybe it would put him on the right path.
“Go get Cameron, and I’ll see you later. ”
Marty raced to his car and got in before pulling out into traffic. Grant took his time, loaded Dexter into the back, and headed back to the station to get started.
He was just pulling into the drive when his phone rang. He answered it through the car. “Marty—what’s going on?”
“Cameron isn’t here,” Marty told him. “I don’t know where he is, but he didn’t come out of the school, and I’m scared half to death.”
Grant kept as calm as he could as he flipped on his lights and siren, then pulled to the right and made a turn, then made another, heading in the direction of Cameron’s school.
“I’m on my way. Tell the teachers and the principal to lock down the building, and that none of the buses or cars are to leave until each one is searched.
” He hung up and made a call to get additional units to the school.
He arrived to streets packed with cars and buses in line to leave as other units pulled in.
“Check the cars, and once they’re cleared, let them go,” he told Red and Carter, who were the first backup on the scene.
Atlas arrived with Evie, and he sent him to the buses, forwarding a picture of Cameron to each of them.
“When was Cameron last seen?” Grant asked his teacher, who stood with Marty.
“He was in class when the bell rang.”
“And he never came out of the building?” Grant asked.
“I don’t think so. I didn’t see him leave. And I was watching.” She seemed determined.