That was when I discovered the news about Brie Johnson. Unfortunately, I knew Brie’s mother Vicky Johnson. We’d been on the debate team together. That was the most I remembered. Years later, Mom had told me that Vicky became a lawyer. From time to time, she provided free legal assistance to the church.
We went over the footage. A man raced away. He looked bigger than Vernon. There was also something familiar about the run. Unfortunately, the perpetrator had a mask and wore all black.
It was now five in the morning on an exhausting Monday.
Drinking coffee, I met all the agents inside a conference room in St. Mary’s Inn. The staff had been nice enough to open it up. With the new missing child, we didn’t want to even waste time driving to the office. Every minute would need to be focused on victim number seven.
She can’t die. We must save her.
Alexander stood in front of the board in the back of the room. He pointed to the little girl’s picture. “This is Brie Johnson. She was playing in her backyard late Sunday afternoon. She’d been dressed in her church clothes, when the person grabbed her.”
In the image, Brie smiled back at us. She wore an orange sweater with a big yellow sun in the center. Orange bows wrapped around her two ponytails.
Tina asked the first question. “Does she go to Fullbrooke Baptist Church?”
He frowned. “She does. Yesterday, she attended church with her parents.”
Alexander and I had sat in the same room with Brie, listening to Pastor Miller preach. She’d been a part of the Junior Choir and sung for me, while I wondered about Vernon’s possible involvement.
Brett raised his hands. “I couldn’t find any religious holidays for today. What should we assume about this?”
“Two things. One, he’s nervous. Two, he’s beyond the point of addiction. He needs to feed his habit at a faster rate.” Alexander put his hands in his pockets. “We have several cars on Vernon Miller. We’re pushing judges to sign off on a higher level of surveillance.”
I spoke up, “Vernon was missing from the church and Pastor Miller’s house at the time Brie was taken. What are we going to do about that?”
Alexander called a male agent over. “Luckily, we were given a warrant to look into Vernon’s cellphone. We have tower hits near Brie’s house, which is odd. Pastor Miller’s house is in the opposite direction.”
The other agent began taping a large map onto the wall. It was of Fullbrooke but had large red dots and then perimeter circles surrounding each dot.
Alexander gestured to him. “Agent Kroger is going to explain more.”
Agent Kroger turned around. “There were six hits during the hours Vernon Miller went missing. In those six times either Mrs. Miller or Pastor Miller called, possibly inquiring about where he was.”
Raising my hand, I edged closer to get a better view of the map, but not block anyone else. “Could we get the conversations?”
“No.” Alexander shook his head. “The Judge was already reluctant to check Vernon’s phone. If we want more, we’ll need to get more evidence. For now, we should check out each area where the phone pinged.”
Agent Kroger touched the top of the map. “Vernon drives an old Cadillac which explains why he was able to cover so much distance. However, this spot appears to be in a deserted area of town.”
I squinted my eyes. “That’s the edge of Northside, right before you start getting into the white part of town.”
Agent Kroger gave me an odd look.
I explained, “In some ways, Fullbrooke is still a bit racially divided. There’s no official boundary, but the emptiness and abandoned spots says it all. Northside used to be an affluent black neighborhood when my parents were growing up.”
Agent Kroger quirked his brows. “Why did everyone abandon it?”
“Fighting among Whites and Blacks. A lot of the affluent white families thought the blacks were getting too close to them. Blacks complained that their property was getting damaged and set on fire.”
Alexander stepped in. “What about the back and forth of the missing girls? The stuff everyone was talking about at dinner yesterday. Do you think this could have been happening in Northside?”
“I’m sure of it. If I remember correctly, Pastor Miller’s father had a church there.”
Alexander nodded. “He did mention that his father’s second church was burned down in Northside by Reverend Thompson’s family.”
Brett rushed to his computer. “I’ll pull up any old records and find out if the building is still standing.”
“I want everyone checking out each pinged area in pairs.” Alexander went to grab his jacket and a thin file. “Stein, when you get the address, send it to my phone. Barron and I are going to head up to the Northside ping.”
I swallowed, gathered my stuff, and left with Alexander.
We walked out of St. Mary’s Inn at a fast pace.
Brie’s smiling face remained in my mind.
We have to find her. I don’t want to see her dead body on the coroner’s table.
When we got in the car, Alexander handed me the files, started the vehicle, and sped off.
Silence filled the space.
I stared at the thin file. “What’s this?”
“The old case on Vernon’s little sister—Kela Miller. Through all the madness, I haven’t been able to go over it. I figured we could multi-task.”
“Good idea.” I opened the file and read through it. “There’s not much information here. All it says is that Kela Miller passed away in her sleep from natural occurrences.”
“Pretty surprising for a four-year-old. Who signed off on the report?”
Sadness hit me as I found the name. “Detective Barron.”
“Your father?”
“Yes. It looks like the good ole boy system crossed racial boundaries. He wasn’t even a detective at this time. How could this be legal?”
“It’s a small town. Lots of things get hidden with ease because no one is looking. Besides, your father thought he was helping his Pastor.”
“My father also could have caught a future serial killer.” I looked through it some more. “There’s no mention of Kela’s pillow or Vernon. There’s a small discussion of Kela having breathing problems.”
“A doctor signed that?”
“Yes. Dr. Winston.” I shook my head. “She’s a distant cousin, and Dad has helped her out a lot with burglaries at her small practice.”
“Therefore, the doctor may have signed it as a favor?”
“Exactly.” I closed the file. “Damn it, Dad.”
“There’s no use crying over spilled milk.”
“You sound like my mother. She says that all the time.”
“She’s a smart woman.” He took us onto Main Street and put us in the direction of Northside.
“I wish my father was alive so I could ask him more about the investigation. There might be details that we’re missing that could be answered from that first case.” I looked out the window.
A huge billboard of the Colors of Love showed above us. Someone had spray painted a penis on the actor’s face playing Tom Fullbrooke.
The sun rose in a dark blue sky. Soon Fullbrooke would be waking up to Brie’s smiling face as all the news outlets reported that she was missing.