Trapped (A Jenny Watkins Mystery Book 5) Read online

  “Did she say what happened?”

  “It was like you described. She was working as a truck-stop prostitute when a man pulled up and offered her a meal. She remembered he was dressed in a shirt and tie, which made him appear different than most of the guys who proposition her. Plus he didn’t seem to be looking for sex—he said all he wanted to do was feed her since she looked so emaciated. He told her he’d go into the truck stop and place an order for her, to go, and he’d bring it back out to her. She said she requested a burger, fries and a Coke.

  “When he came back out,” Howell continued, “he said she could sit in his car and eat. She told him that would actually be helpful since her pimp would not have been happy seeing her standing around eating instead of working. She got in his car and they pulled to a remote parking spot. She said the food tasted perfectly normal, but the next thing she remembered was waking up in a dark room chained to a wall.”

  “Dear God,” Jenny replied.

  “She could feel soundproofing on the walls of the room, but she screamed anyway. It obviously didn’t do any good. The only person who ever came to her was the person who was holding her captive.”

  “I don’t think I want to know this,” Jenny asked, “but what happened to her while she was there?”

  “What you’d expect. They swabbed for semen, but they didn’t find any. I guess he was smart enough to wait before letting her go.”

  “According to the profilers, we may be dealing with a man who has no criminal record anyway,” Zack noted. “DNA may not have helped.”

  The disappointment in Howell’s voice was noticeable. “But at least it would have confirmed we had the right suspect if we ever found him.”

  Jenny rubbed her temples as she formulated her thoughts. “Okay…this guy must have spiked her drink, and she woke up chained to a wall. Did she say how long she was there?”

  “She has no idea. The room was completely dark except for when the man came in, so she had no way of knowing if it was day or night.”

  “Did she get a good look at the man when he visited her?”

  “In fact she did, which indicates he initially had no intention of keeping her alive. She’s been working with a sketch artist to create a composite. Unfortunately, she’s somewhat difficult to work with. It appears she was a meth addict, and she hasn’t had any for a while now. They’ve got her on other drugs to help her come down from the meth, and those are messing with her mind a little bit. Sadly, she’s just about the worst witness we could ask for.”

  Jenny couldn’t help but fixate on one aspect. “So why do you think he let her go alive?”

  “Fear, I imagine,” Howell stated. “His dumping ground had been uncovered, and he probably was keeping the woman in a location that would implicate him. I think he may have panicked and set her free in case we came looking for him. He certainly wouldn’t want to have a captive in his custody if we knocked on his door.”

  “But wouldn’t a sound-proof room with shackles be evidence against the guy, whether or not there was a woman in there?” Zack asked.

  “Not necessarily. Kinky sex isn’t against the law, as long as it’s consensual,” Howell replied. “At least, that’s the position the defense attorney would take.”

  Jenny remained focused. “Does this woman have any idea how long she was in the car before she was dropped off at the gas station?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Howell replied. “She was told to drink some soda while she was being held in the room, and the next thing she knew she was at the gas station. They tested her for different drugs that could induce unconsciousness or amnesia, and she tested positive for having Rohypnol in her system. You probably know it as Roofies. The effect of that usually lasts four to six hours, or so they tell me, but that means he could have come from two-hundred miles in any direction. That doesn’t exactly narrow it down for us.”

  “Where was she abducted from?” Jenny asked.

  “Central North Carolina, about an hour from where she was found. Once again, if she was given Rohypnol at the truck stop, he could have taken her to Virginia or South Carolina before she regained awareness.”

  “If you figure out where some of the other women were taken from and draw two-hundred-mile circles around each location,” Jenny said, “maybe there will be only one specific spot where the circles overlap. Then you can figure out where his hideout must be.”

  Zack looked impressed by Jenny’s comment.

  “We’ve thought of that,” Howell remarked, immediately bursting Jenny’s bubble. “But we have no way of knowing where these women were taken from, and we don’t know how long each woman has been missing. Even if the other prostitutes at the truck stop can recognize one of the victims and can give us an exact time of disappearance, which is doubtful, we wouldn’t know for sure if the perp took her from that spot or if she just hopped a ride with a trucker. We would need to formulate timelines as to when each of these girls was last seen in order to determine exactly where the abductions took place, and I don’t think strung-out prostitutes are going to be able to give us accurate enough data. The last thing we want to do is base an investigation on false information.”

  “Maybe we could do it,” Jenny said. “I’m sure my grandmother and I could determine where some of the abductions took place. We may not know which girl it was, but we could definitely get a feel for whether or not the killer propositioned anybody at a particular truck stop.” Jenny shrugged one shoulder. “For some of the girls, at least.”

  Howell remained quiet for some time. “I would love to say yes to that,” he replied. “You’ve been right about so much already. But I’m not sure the higher-ups are going to be willing to base an investigation on the testimony of psychics. No offense.”

  “None taken,” Jenny assured him. “But we could still do it and at least let you know what we find.”

  Another long pause. “If you could, that’d be great. I’ll take any insight I can get.”

  As Jenny’s paintbrush filled in the lines on her canvas, Zack approached through the front door of the lobby. He marched immediately over to her with a smile on his face, remarking, “I just bought a compass.” He proudly pulled it out of the bag he was carrying, reminding Jenny of the countless circles she’d drawn in geometry class. “I’m totally badass with these things.”

  She looked at him curiously. “Badass? Do you stab people with them?”

  “No, I do not stab people.” Zack took a seat on the couch near Jenny’s easel. “It’s just after all those years in the construction business, I’m completely awesome at using one. You should see me make a perpendicular bisector.”

  Jenny remained quiet, unsure of what to say.

  Zack produced the maps he’d also purchased. “Okay, before I can demonstrate my circle-making expertise, I want you to help me decide how big to make the radius. How far should we go from each abduction site?”

  Sitting back in her chair, Jenny sighed as she thought. “Howell said the amnesia effects of Roofies last four to six hours, isn’t that right?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “We might want to verify that,” Jenny noted, “just to be safe. And I’m assuming that Roofies knock these girls out?”

  “I’m honestly not sure what they do,” Zack said. “Let me get my laptop and I’ll check.” After a short moment he reappeared and set up shop on the table in the lobby. While he was gone, Jenny was able to add a little more color to the slave woman’s face. “Okay,” Zack said as he read, “it looks like it acts as a sedative that causes amnesia.”

  “Sedative,” Jenny repeated. “How sedate do the girls get?”

  “This article doesn’t say,” Zack eventually concluded, “but I imagine sedate enough to not make a scene when he drives away with her.”

  “Or to make a scene when he arrives at his destination,” Jenny thought out loud. “I’m sure he’ll want her to still be loopy when he gets her to his little torture chamber.” She shuddered at the thought
.

  “So what do you think, then…he’d try to keep it under four hours?” Zack posed. “I’m sure he’d rather err on the side of caution.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  “And four hours on the highway would equate to two-hundred forty miles, give or take.”

  “Let’s go with that,” Jenny replied. “I think that’s probably generous because he must take into account that he could hit traffic. I also think he must not spend the entire time on the highway unless his hideout is right off an exit. But I’d rather make the circles too big than too small. I don’t want to miss an area of overlap because we underestimated the distances.”

  Zack unfolded his map and adjusted the compass to equate to two-hundred-forty miles. “Okay,” he said, “the first abduction that we know of is from Dale’s, which is right…here.” He put the metal into the map and drew a circle. “That limits us to Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina and a tiny bit of South Carolina. The Atlantic Ocean eliminates a good chunk of the east.” After making the other two circles based on the North Carolina abductions, Maryland became eliminated from the list.

  “We still have a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” Jenny noted with a yawn. “We need to go further south than we did last time, and we need to go north—and west for that matter.” She frowned. “And even east. I’m sure there are a lot of truck stops in our target area.”

  Zack typed furiously on his laptop. “I bet I can tell you exactly how many.” A few moments later he pointed to his screen and said, “Yup. This website tells you all of the truck stops along any particular highway. It even lets you filter by certain attributes, like has a restaurant and open twenty-four hours.”

  “That’s cool,” Jenny said sincerely. “That will be very helpful.”

  “I’ll make a list of all of the stops we need to visit, although I may disagree with you about heading east and west. I think we should focus on north and south now that we know he’s had a few abductions along I95.”

  With a stretch Jenny said, “Good point. I still had better get to bed. Even without the east-west, we’ve got a long day tomorrow, and our daughter sucks the energy right out of me.”

  “I feel like we’ve been driving forever,” Jenny said as her hands gripped the steering wheel.

  “Well, it has been about three hours,” Zack noted from the back seat. “Are you doing okay up there?”

  “Yeah,” Jenny replied, “I just have to admit it will be nice to get out and stretch my legs.”

  “The truck stop should be coming up soon,” Zack said. “It’s off the next exit.”

  The trio remained silent as Jenny pulled off the highway and found a parking spot near the back. After exiting the car, Jenny and Ingunn tried to get a feel for any hints of abduction. After a moment Ingunn declared, “There’s nothing here.”

  “I’m not getting anything either,” Jenny agreed, “but I do need to go in and grab a little bite to eat. My stomach isn’t feeling the greatest. I hope you all don’t mind.”

  “Me?” Zack asked. “Mind getting food? Never.”

  As they approached the front door of the restaurant, Jenny gasped at what she saw. A flyer featuring a composite sketch of a dark-haired man was taped to the glass, complete with the caption, “Have you seen this man?”

  The image of his face immediately brought Jenny back to a small, square room, illuminated by a single light bulb hanging from the center of the ceiling. Gray soundproofing covered the walls, and Jenny could feel her hands cuffed next to her head. The man from the composite sketch walked toward her, smiling, saying in a deep voice, “Hello, my pet.”

  The flashback was fleeting but powerful. “Whoa,” Jenny said, gripping on to Zack’s arm.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  Jenny nodded. “I just need a pen and paper. I have a picture to draw.”

  Jenny sat in the booth, continuing to sketch the image of the room, her empty plate in the center of the table. The soundproofing was proving to be time-consuming to replicate.

  “If you want,” Zack offered, “I can drive us to the next truck stop while you finish your picture on the road.”

  Jenny glanced up at him with just her eyes. “You, chief, are not allowed to drive my car.” She refocused her attention to the picture.

  Zack checked the time. “I have a vet appointment for Baxter this afternoon. I want to make sure we’re back in time to take him.”

  “He’s got his medicine in him,” Jenny noted while she sketched, “so he’s getting treated for fleas and ticks already. He’s got food in his belly. And you set up his lead so he can go in and out of the shed, right? And access his bed?”

  “Yeah,” Zack replied.

  “Then he should be good, no? I would think we could even wait and take him to a vet down in Tennessee for his official check-up if we need to.” She looked at Zack, whose expression reflected his sadness, causing Jenny’s heart to soften. She reached out her hand and placed it on top of Zack’s. “If you want, we can call Jessica and ask her to go out and check on him.”

  “I’d like that,” Zack replied with the smile of a child. “Do you happen to have her number?”

  Jenny pulled her phone out of her purse and handed it over. “She’s a contact.” She continued to draw as Zack made the phone call.

  He hung up with a smile. “Jessica says that Baxter is sound asleep on his bed. I have to admit I feel better.”

  “Good, I’m glad,” Jenny said sincerely. As Zack called the vet to reschedule the appointment, Jenny found herself troubled by a notion in her own head. While she considered not mentioning it, ultimately she decided to bring it up after Zack got off the phone. “It’s more than a little sad that Baxter is being treated better than these women got treated while in this psychopath’s custody,” she said. “At least the dog has a long lead and a comfortable bed. I’m under the impression the women were shackled to the wall.”

  “You said he called you—meaning the victim—my pet, right?” Zack recalled. “Do you think that was more of a literal word than a term of endearment? Like he actually regarded these women as his pets?”

  Jenny’s pencil stopped moving as her eyes rose to meet Zack’s. “Probably. And that’s almost too disturbing to think about.”

  “You know what else is disturbing?” Zack posed. “I haven’t seen Amma in about twenty minutes. Do you think she’s outside scolding the pimp again?”

  “Oh, God, I hope not.”

  Zack looked over his shoulder toward the door of the restaurant. “If she is, my money’s on Amma. She’s one tough lady.”

  “Maybe you’d better go try to find her,” Jenny suggested. “If that is what she’s doing, that poor pimp might need a little help.”

  While Zack was gone, Jenny finished up her sketch and took a picture of it with her phone. With a quick text, she sent the picture to Howell, explaining that she believed that this was what the killer’s hideout looked like. Just after she hit send, Zack approached with Ingunn by his side. “I found her.”

  “I wasn’t lost,” Ingunn proclaimed.

  Jenny couldn’t help but smile.

  Ingunn continued, “I was trying to figure out where we should go next.”

  “We have a list,” Jenny informed her. “Zack researched all the truck stops along the highway.”

  “That list is too long,” Ingunn said.

  “I know it’s long,” Jenny agreed. “But I’m finished with my drawing, so we can get going…”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Ingunn replied. “I’m not worried about running out of time. What I’m suggesting is that some of the stops on that list are unnecessary.”

  Zack and Jenny waited silently for an elaboration.

  “All of the women seem to have been kidnapped from truck stops that are among many at the same exit.” She gestured around her with her hand. “We’ve visited stops like this—that are alone—and we always get nothing. It seems like a waste of time.”
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  Jenny thought about that for a moment before asking, “So do you think he, like, shops around the different truck stops before choosing a victim?”

  Ingunn shrugged. “Maybe those stops are just more likely to have prostitutes.”

  Zack had already pulled his list out of his pocket. “It looks like the next truck stop group is about fifty miles south of here.” He glanced at the ladies. “What do you think?”

  Jenny put her purse strap over her shoulder. “I think it’s time to get back on the road.”

  “That was a good call, Amma,” Zack said from the back seat as they finally headed back toward the inn. “Both of our new contacts occurred at a truck stop that was one of many off the same exit. I’m not sure how you figured that out so early on.”

  “There was a pattern,” she proclaimed.

  “A pattern that I hadn’t picked up on,” Zack added, “but getting a reading at a truck stop that far south eliminates a good chunk of northern Virginia, and the reading near DC takes southern North Carolina off the map. I’ll have to wait until we get home to draw my official, perfectly-round circles, but it appears his hideout is somewhere between Fredericksburg and Raleigh.”

  “I think we need to let Howell know this,” Jenny said as she picked up her phone. “Call Howell,” she directed robotically as she kept one hand on the wheel and both eyes on the road; the phone obeyed.

  After a few rings Howell picked up. “Hi, Jenny. I’m glad you called; I was just getting ready to call you, in fact.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “I showed the picture you sent me to our survivor, and she immediately recognized the room as being the place she was held captive.”

  Jenny wondered why news that didn’t surprise her still invoked such nerves. “Well, you can tell her that it was her composite sketch that inspired that vision. As soon as I saw the guy’s face on that flyer, I got a distinct visual of the room.” Jenny swallowed and softly added, “That God-awful room.”

  “So you have no indication where that place might be?” Howell posed.