Chapter 43
They found him fast, just an interested observer in the growing crowd of onlookers.
Extricating him from the crowd turned out to be harder than getting him to agree to accompany them.
The friends and family of the slain girls were quick to ask questions.
Troopers helped them keep it cool, but I was fascinated at how skilled they were in plucking him out of the potential mob.
Serious deescalation talents which I hadn’t witnessed before.
Twenty minutes later, Mr. Oakland was seated in the inn’s tiny conference-slash-internet business room with Steele and Chen interviewing him.
The rest of us watched through Red’s monitors.
Tall and slender, Mr. Oakland had medium brown hair and hazel eyes that were set in a pleasant, mostly smiling face.
His voice was calm and quiet as he sat easily in the heavy wooden chair.
Which was odd. Plucked from a crowd and popped into an FBI interrogation, he should have been at least mildly nervous.
Yet he didn’t show any obvious signs of anxiety, just a curious interest in the proceedings.
“We’ve noticed your vehicle at multiple investigation scenes for these crimes, and we haven’t found a connection between you and the victims to warrant that degree of attention,” Agent Steele noted.
“Ah, my cop car. I have a certain fascination with law enforcement investigations. Which is why I have that car and why I show up at these things.”
“Well, we have an interest in that car because one just like it was described in two separate eyewitness reports from the nights two of the girls went missing,” Dr. Chen said evenly.
“That’s absolutely fascinating,” Oakland said, sitting upright. “You’ve been involved for only several hours and you found something that the Jersey bozos missed completely. She spotted it, didn’t she?”
“She?” Chen asked.
“Your not-so-secret weapon… Cassandra Blake,” he said a little smugly.
“Oh, you know of Miss Blake?” Chen asked.
“Are you kidding? Who doesn’t? I was hoping your team would get assigned to this case ever since I saw her press conference. Did she really fly a helicopter?”
“Wow, you seem like a fan,” Chen noted.
“A fan? A fan? You do see how bright she shines, don’t you? Tell me she doesn’t blind you? She’s what all girls should aspire to. Certainly not what those tarts on the streets chose, am I right?”
“You think the girls buried in the Barrens had it coming to them?” Chen asked.
“I think they needed to be reset. Sent back. You know, so they could be reborn into new lives of greater promise. I did them a favor.”
We all sucked in a collective breath as he dropped that last line.
“Are they all your work, Steven?” Steele asked.
“Of course—but you knew that, Special Agent Steele, when you sent your team to pull me from the pathetic mourners outside.”
Rose looked at her watch. “Just a bit under four hours,” she said. “Two years of nothing and here he is, confessing in under four hours.”
Back on script, Chen was asking Oakland for details. “I want to meet her first,” he said.
“Cassie? You want to meet Cassie?” Chen clarified.
“Absolutely.”
“Well, we don’t trot her out for just anyone, Steven,” Steele said casually. “I mean, she’s already working on something else. Her time is valuable.”
“I can tell you where the others are buried.”
“Others?” Chen asked, mildly curious like they were discussing summer books to read on the beach.
“There are eight more you haven’t found yet. That’s valuable, right? Enough to meet her,” Okland said.
“Eight more? You’ve been at this a long time?” Dr. Chen asked.
“Since I was twenty-four, so seventeen years, give or take,” he said with a proud smile. “One for each year.”
“Okay,” Steele said, his response slow as he processed the killer’s words. Then he turned and looked at the camera, giving us a nod.
“Right. Me first, then you,” Rose said, popping up. “I’m between the two of you every moment. Got it?”
“Yes, sis,” I said with a smirk.
“Damn right,” she said, turning to look at Willimena and Carl. “You two ready?”
They nodded without expression, clearly born ready, so off we went.
She opened the door to the room and moved inside.
I stayed outside until I heard her say, “Okay Cassie,” and then stepped in.
My HRT shadows were right behind me. Willimena had her side arm out of its holster, held low by her side, the gun hidden by my body.
Carl grabbed my nylon belt with his right hand in a way that was not at all creepy, clearly ready to haul me out of the room the instant anything happened.
“Oh, my,” Steven Oakland whispered, his eyes wide and bright with a truly scary zeal. “Look at you. Shining.”
“What are you seeing, Steven?” Dr. Chen asked.
“Don’t you see?” he shot back at her, his eyes never leaving me. His tone was suspicious.
“Just checking,” Chen said easily, like he had passed a test.
“You found me so fast,” Steven said to me.
“Not fast enough,” I said.
“Oh, but how could you have?” he said. “You’re so young. I’ve been doing this since you were a baby.”
I didn’t say anything, the skin on my arms goose bumping, the hair on my neck lifting on its own.
This man was something so wrong that part of my mind was having difficulty processing it.
The other part was gearing up for savage survival.
Kill or be killed. Adrenaline dumping, heart pumping, muscles filling with blood, lungs pulling maximum oxygen.
Distance to enemy, closest exit, closest weapons.
If he lunged and I couldn’t get out, his head and arms would lead his leap.
My mind gamed the response. Blocks, grabs, full body slam, multiple foot stomps.
“Breathe,” Willimena whispered in my ear. I took a slow, deliberate breath.
“You’re frightened?” he said.
“Every part of me is aware you are a killer of women my age, Steven. So, I am preparing to kill you in self-defense.”
Steele whipped around to look at me, but Chen was watching Oakland, nodding as if in agreement with my words.
He smiled. A true, delighted smile on his pleasant face with his insane eyes. “Remarkable. You sense a predator and your response is instant. So different than those failed girls.”
“Failed?” Chen asked.
“They all had potential, yet where did it go? What did they do with it? Wasted on drugs and the sale of their bodies. Miss Blake is just as young, just as small, but there is no comparison. Mice compared to a wildcat.”
“Okay, we let you meet her,” Agent Steele said. “Your turn. The other girls?”
“I will tell you four of them and where they are buried. The other four in exchange for a sit-down with Miss Blake. Just her and me.”
“Start with the first four,” Steele said. “Names, locations.” He nodded at my escort, and we backed out of the room.
The door closed and Rose turned to look at me. She looked at my eyes, then nodded.
“Preparing to kill you in self-defense?” Willimena said, her tone incredulous. “Fucking awesome, Hellcat. One of the best moments in my career.”
“Love it,” Carl agreed. “What was your go-to?”
“Leave first, but if we jammed up and he lunged, then I was going to use both my arms to block his, grab his hair in both hands, and slam his head into the floor. Then stomp—repeatedly.”
“Outstanding,” Willamena said.
“I have to agree with Mena,” Rose said. “That was even more jacked then when you put Shire in her place.”
“Heard about that one,” Carl said, nodding. “This is the stuff you tell your grandkids about.”
“Whew,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Glad I could contribute to your cocktail party stories.”
“You kidding?” Willimena asked. “I already cashed in on the helicopter ride story.”
“That guy is fucked up,” I said, shaking out my hands. “I mean, I’ve met professional killers, but that’s different. He relishes what he does.”
Kessler came in from the library. “Steele just cuffed him and read him his rights. We’re moving him, so let’s make you scarce, huh?” he said to me.
“Roger that,” I said, heading straight for the library. Rose followed me in and shut the door while Carl and Mena took up position outside.
“You okay, Cassie?” Red asked, looking up from her monitor. A man and a woman in suits stood behind her, their attention now on me.
“Just the kind of male attention all girls dream about,” I said, taking a seat.
“He’s so excited to talk to you, he’s volunteering all kinds of detail,” she said, glancing at the suits.
“Perfect confession,” the woman said. “Mary Wells, Attorney General’s office. This is Al Sutton, Ocean County District Attorney.”
“You just saved us a long, costly trial,” Sutton said, “as long as he actually pleads guilty.”
“Then make that a condition of me sitting down with him,” I said. “No guilty plea, no Cassie chat.”
“You’ll sit with him? In a room?” Mary asked, brows up.
“If he’s chained and we’re closely observed, than yes,” I said, glancing a question at Rose.
“Oh, I’ll be there, Cas. No worries,” she said instantly.
“Thank you, Miss Blake,” Al Sutton said.
“It’s Cassie, and anything to get him put away.”
“You warned him of your intent to kill in self-defense?” Al asked. “Why that response?”
“First, never be easy prey. Tell them they are taking major risk. Second, I established a legal defense in front of law enforcement if I had to make good on the threat.”
“He’s a hardened killer of young women, Miss Blake. What would you have done?”
“Well, leave if the option was available. But my dad trained to me to go all out if I have to defend myself, and I’ve got my stomping boots on,” I said.
Both lawyers lifted their eyebrows at that. Red smiled. “Amen,” Rose agreed.