Stein sighed into the line.
“I could keep going on and on. Craig Price, 13 years old and African American. He started stabbing women. Barry Loukaitis, Caucasian and 14, shot up his Algebra class.”
“King. . .”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want our Unsub to be a teenager. If it is, then we fucked up.”
“We did.” I stared off at all the cars in the parking lot, pissed with myself. “We should have taken him in regardless. He was on the scene. Had he been a grown man, he would have been questioned. Now we’ll have to find him. Get everyone on it. You spent the most time with him, walking the teen to the front. You think you could give our artist a description.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“There were news cameras out there. Someone may have footage of that day. We should be able to find him in the crowd.”
“I’m on it.”
“Give Richards this update. Maybe she can give us another angle with the profile. With all the execution of the kidnappings, this has to be a team of two. Perhaps, she can give us a good idea of who would help him.”
“You’re right.”
“Let me know anything as soon as possible.”
“I will.”
We hung up and my heart boomed with insanity.
The boy shook. “I’m trying to help any way I can.”
I leaned in closer. “Help do what?”
“Find my sister’s killer.” His bottom lip quivered. “Ariana Waterson.”
The teenager had been right in my hold. But with the horror of the Fullbrooke Six, I hadn’t thought the kid would have had anything to do with it. In all fairness, I had still believed a white man had been behind the whole case. It made sense. The girls were all black as if some racist white guy was preying on them.
The last thing I would have guessed was a teenaged boy helping with the kidnapping of little girls.
But this is making sense.
The boy looked around 15 or 16 at the most. It would have made sense for Felicia Drake at 12 to talk to him. He could be from the community.
Jesus. He probably goes to this church.
I turned around, stared at the front door, and pulled out the phone again.
Stein picked up on the first ring. “Yes.”
“I think he goes to this church. All of the victims did. It can’t be a coincidence. He must be using the church as his hunting grounds.”
“What should we do?”
“I actually want a team outside of the church, but that wouldn’t bode well. Everyone here is still upset. There’s high tension. And the Fullbrooke Six parents are here. We can’t do that to them.”
“Then, Richards and I will sit in an unmarked car, park near the door, and take a look at everyone leaving.”
“Exactly. Have some backup, but make sure they’re hidden. I don’t want the congregation being spooked. And I definitely don’t want the kid’s partner to think we’re on to him.”
“I’ll have the other agents a block away.”
“Good.” I headed to the door. “Meanwhile, I’ll keep a look out for the kid.”
Chapter 21
A Person of Interest
Alexander
My heart boomed in my chest as I made it back to the church. When I entered the main space, I took my time walking down the aisle and scanned every face. The choir was up and singing again.
Are you in here?
There were many teenaged boys in suits, sitting by their parents. Most looked bored. A few turned my way, intrigued. However, that would have been a normal reaction for any teenager.
I got to the pew and sat down.
Haven leaned my way. “What’s going on?”
“There was a boy at the last scene. We chased after him. When we caught him, he said he was Ariana’s brother and that he was there to help find clues.”
“But she doesn’t have a brother.”
“Which is why he has now become a person of interest.”
She looked around. “And he could be in here?”
“It makes sense. All the victims went to this church. They would have known him.”
A sad expression hit her face. “They would have easily walked off with him.”
“Correct.”
Pastor Miller strode up to the pulpit.
This morning, I had planned on listening to what he had to say. Since I was coming to church, it wouldn’t have hurt to sample a little religion for the week. But now I had a lead to the case. I wasn’t sure how much this teenager was involved, but I knew that at the bare minimum, he helped get these girls.
I went over all the cases in my mind.
Felicia Drake never made it home from church. Her friends had waved goodbye. Her house was a short walk from there—less than five minutes. None of the neighbors saw her go inside. A block away, some kids found her red book bag with her textbooks, phone, wallet full of next week’s lunch money, and house key.
Felicia would have left with a boy from her church. This congregation was family. He could have told Felicia that he had to show her something or convinced her of anything to get her away. It wouldn’t have been difficult at all.
The teenager wouldn’t have been seen as a threat.
Ten years old Karen Brookes didn’t make it to her ballet class. The boy could have been in the lobby. Once again, he must’ve been a good friend to all the girls—some sort of helper. I believed the victims knew him enough to walk off with him.
Why were they so comfortable with him? He would have been in high school. They were all middle and elementary school. What am I missing?
Karen’s mother had dropped her off for ballet class.
The third victim Ariana Waterson was taken in the church bathroom after Sunday school. Mrs. Barron had been her teacher.
I leaned Haven’s way. “How are the Sunday school classes determined?”
“Each class is divided by age groups. Toddlers are in one class. Three to five is in another. My mom has six to eight.”
“Then, nine to ten and eleven to twelve?”
“Yes, but the last group is eleven to thirteen.”
“And what about the teenagers?”
“When you’re fourteen and up, you serve as assistants for the Sunday school teachers. There’s three for each class.”
Adrenaline spiked in my veins. “Do the teens assist the same group each time?”
“No. Each month it changes.” With a sad expression, she shook her head. “Please. . .please don’t tell me that you think that is how he’s picking the girls.”
I nodded. “We’ll have to get the Sunday school attendance and any other information from Pastor Miller, but we must do it in a way that doesn’t cause panic. If I’m right, then he’s here. In the pews right now. Possibly watching us.”
“Mom and I eat dinner at his house after church. You’re coming of course.”
I frowned. “Of course.”
The fourth victim was Emma Tucker. She’d been taken out of her home while her mother was on a date. The fifth victim, Shelly Darby had been taken from the movies. Her mother wanted to see an adult film, so she let her kids—Shelly and her older brother watch a cartoon in the theater next to hers. Shelly was eight. Her brother was fifteen. Perhaps, the teen was with him at the movies or simply followed them there.