Ripple Effect: A Novel (27 page)

Owens clears his throat. “Listen to me. Let met speak to the Sheriff and the two of us will contact Gordon Drake.” He sighs. “If Gordon goes after him, he’ll jeopardize the chances of the authorities getting there first. Gordon will be reckless, or, so I can assume.”

“Well, what are you going to do about Leison?” She sounds frantic. “Something has to be done!”

“Something
will
be done. He’s terrified these girls half to death. With the Sheriff’s help, we’ll arrest him and stop this once and for all.” Owens sighs. “He’s a sick man—very twisted and dark. He must be good at what he’s doing because these girls are terrified beyond comprehension.”

Mom coughs lightly. “Cecily says that Leison has connections to Sheriff Copper. That’s why she hasn’t told him.”

Darien lets out a raucous laugh that distracts me from the conversation and I glare at him.

“––is just a child,” I catch from Owens. “She doesn’t understand the dynamics of her situation.”

Tears sting my eyes.
Why does everyone think that I’m a stupid kid!?
I’ve evaded Leison twice now, but perhaps that is only because he let me . . .

Owens sounds composed, as always, “This man is playing on their fears to control them, Mrs. Wolf. For example: Did you ever see the actual bruises on your daughter’s body?”

“No, she wouldn’t let me,” Mom whispers. “Just a corner of one.”

“He has them so terrified that they can’t even run to the people they trust and love the most. I despise creeps like this and he won’t get away with it.” Owens finally shows emotion in his voice. “Mrs. Wolf, if you wait for these girls to go to the authorities, it will never happen. They can’t think logically right now. They are too scared by this perpetrator.”

They come toward me and I jump on to the couch again. Darien and Kelly are talking about Battleship vessels. Sabrina’s face is in her hands. Hazel is picking at the dead ends in her golden hair. I stare at Owens and Mom as they enter back into the room.

“One more question: Do you know any other girls that have been harassed by this man?” he asks us seriously. He remains standing.

Sabrina speaks quietly, her face still hidden in her hands. “There were three others.”

My stomach lurches. I can just see them starving to death, pleading for help.

“What are their names?” Owens asks, taking a touch pad out of his coat to take notes.

Sabrina looks up at him, her face now white and the bruises dark. “You know . . . there is a pattern here.”

Everyone becomes silent and looks at her. Owens seems unnerved by something, but is hiding it masterfully well.

“He told me once. After he had drugged me up and had his way. The
slut
, the
brain
, the
victim
. He is smarter than you realize.” Sabrina’s dark gray eyes pierce through Owens. “He does his biddings in increments of three.”

His eyes narrow analytically. “Their names—do you know them?”

“Kimberly Evans. I took her place,” she answers. “That’s all I know.”

“The others,” he demands.

Sabrina shakes her head. “I don’t know who the others are.”

“So it’s speculation? These other girls are rumored to be missing?”

I stand up. “No, it’s not speculation. She’s right,” I say, looking back at her. “Leison says he has three victims, chained up somewhere and
dying
.”

Owens looks at each of us. “How do you know he’s telling the truth?” His eyes rest on me. “Can you be sure it’s not a scare tactic to manipulate you?”

He really doesn’t believe us? He thinks we are scared teenagers too stupid to see the truth?

The only chance we have to seek safety and it’s a gimmick . . . I can’t do this anymore. Instead of answering him, I start crying as hopelessness fills me.

Kelly wraps his arm around me and whispers words of hope. Owens softens for just a second before his face fills with contemplation.

“I know you think we’re stupid, but we’re not.” My lip quivering in upset, I look up at Owens. “Leison said they’d die if we told . . . and we still
told
you.”

Mom nods, looking at the man seriously. “That ought to count for something.”

Owens’s brow furrows as he thinks to himself. “As I said, I will contact Sheriff Copper and discuss the situation with him.”

Sabrina stumbles to her feet. “He said he’d kill me if we told! Don’t think for a single second that he won’t know that you’re in town, that you’re talking to Copper! You need to bring in reinforcements, more FBI agents––the authorities here are corrupt!”

“How can you be so sure, Sabrina?” Owens puts his hands above his belt again. “Is it the fear that makes you think that this school teacher has connections with the law enforcement here? Has he told you that he has connections or not?”

Tears fill her eyes and her hands ball into angry fists. “You don’t believe us!”

Finally, Owens allows emotion to cross his face and he is clearly aware of how seriously sinister Leison is. Suddenly, his face turns to stone and a look of contemplation replaces his worry.

“I saw him talking to the Sheriff,” I say quickly. “That should answer your question, shouldn’t it?”

“When, Cecily?” Owens asks, his eyes narrowing in speculation. Finally, a fact he would believe.

“The night he hurt me.”

Owens nods once. “Let’s go over this again, the three girls included. Tell me everything.”

“We just told you!” Sabrina whines.

One look from him silences her. “This is procedure. Tell me what happened, again.”

After eight trillion repeats of the same questions, he stands to leave us, his eyes filled with even more worry. “Be careful,” he says to us and turns for the door. “If needed, I will come and ask more questions. Please call if you find yourself in a situation with him, or even see him for that matter,” he says over his shoulder. “And most importantly— let the authorities do their jobs.”

He heads into the foyer and Mom follows him. “Owens?” she asks, as if clueing into his worry. I sneak against the wall so that I can barely see them.

He stops and looks at her. “I need to speak with your Sheriff.”

“You seem more adamant about it now that you were before,” I say, walking out from my hiding space. “Why?”

Owens zips his jacket up. “I’ve always been adamant about it, I assure you.”

Mom shows him to the door.

“I need to contact my partner. I will keep you updated, Mrs. Wolf.”

“What does that even mean?” Mom asks.

Owens is quiet for a minute. “It means you’re going to be seeing a lot more of the FBI around your town.”

She gasps and covers her mouth. “You said he was just a pedophile.”

“Good night, Mrs. Wolf. We’ll be in contact.” Owens leaves and Mom shuts the door.

I step into the foyer hesitantly. “What’s going on, Mom?”

She grabs me in her arms and kisses my head. “I don’t know, Ces. When you see a federal agent act like that, you know it’s not good.”

My stomach drops violently and I know that my face is pale. Owens is no fool indeed, but he chooses to ignore the fact that we know exactly what is going on.

This feeling hits—the one that makes you shudder and cry. It’s called letdown, fear, disappointment. Even though I have my friends surrounding me—lounging around the living room now, eating pizza—I have never felt so alone. Did I mention the part about us talking about the serial killer—as if it was so casual?

I lean back onto the couch, arms crossed over me like some shield that is supposed to block all the bad things from entering my life. “Leison definitely knows that someone is on his tail.” My head turns and I stare at Sabrina as my eyebrow lifts.

“I’m sure he loves it,” she says from the other side of the couch, dead serious. Her attention goes to her baby pink polished nails. “
You
know how much he loves a challenge.” Her eyes meet mine for just a second before she goes back to chipping the light polish off her nails.

Darien and Kelly are back to playing video games, though Kelly repeatedly looks over at me to ensure I’m at least semi-okay. Hazel is curled up in the leather seat that Owens sat in, book in hand, chewing her bottom lip. She can’t focus on what she’s reading, but she tries.

My hand claps over Sabrina’s arm—instead of smacking her face—gaining her attention. “We have to stop him. You know him best, remember?”

“What do you suggest we do?” She smiles, as if amused by our little game of low blows. “Go behind Owens’s back?”

Mom clears her throat as she enters the room. “You heard what Owens said. If you see him, you turn him in. There is no reason to go behind his back.”

I go to open my mouth but snap it shut. My hand drops from Sabrina’s arm.

There is a reason; it’s called the
hostage situation.
Leison will kill the girls when he finds out that we told. Their blood will be on our hands.

“He’s FBI.” Kelly places his controller down and faces us. “You can’t exactly go behind his back, Sabrina.”

Mom’s phone goes off and she goes upstairs to get it. It’s probably Adie.

Sabrina glares at Kelly. “It’s not going behind his back if the fool won’t open his eyes to the truth.” She flips her silky hair behind her shoulder and focuses back on her nails. “It’s obvious that Owens doesn’t believe us.”

“He will after we show him the map with the coordinates . . .” I glance from Kelly to Sabrina and nod. “It’s our only chance to prove that he is truly a serial killer.”

“The map!” Sabrina sits straight up and covers her mouth. “With the fluorescent writing? I’ve seen it so many times, but it never made any sense. They’re coordinates?”

“Yes!” My eyes widen. “I think it contains the coordinates of the kidnapped girls. It could lead the FBI to their location!”

“One problem, Cecily: every night, Leison takes it home and every morning he puts it back up. If you check that classroom now, a replica will be in its place,” Sabrina says informatively.

“Why does he do that?” Hazel asks.

“That map is obviously important to him and he doesn’t want it leaving his sight,” Darien explains. “It has to have coordinates of the girls’ whereabouts.”

“But where would he hide them . . .?” I ask. Everyone seems to go quiet.

“Hold on—” Kelly’s on his feet and crossing his arms, ordering attention. “You are not suggesting––”

“––that we get the map?” Sabrina smirks.

They exchange cold looks. “Lee said to stay out of it!” Kelly exclaims. “And I agree. I don’t want you getting hurt!” He stares at me.

I stand up and put a calming hand on his shoulder. “Kelly, we aren’t implementing a rescue mission. We simply want to steal the map and hand it over to the authorities.” I let out a short laugh. “There is no way I would willingly go chasing a serial killer for this . . .”

Sabrina laughs, it sounding like a bark, and gives me a disbelieving look. “You’d risk your life to save them if you had to.”

My eye twitches. She’s right. “If we get that map to Owens the FBI can handle it from there.” I flash a smug smile.

“How do you know that it’s not a trick?” Kelly asks.

Sabrina rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a fool. Of course it’s a trick. Everything with this man is a trick.”

“What if this is a trap you are going into? Maybe he’s luring you to wherever the other girls are . . . into the position where he wants you?” Kelly sighs loudly and then shakes his head. “Why else would he show you that?”

“It’s a taunt.” Sabrina gets to her feet and faces Kelly, who is only a couple inches taller than her. “He lives to show us how inferior we are to him.”

I pull Kelly back from Sabrina, knowing full well that she is getting under his skin. “He thinks he’s scared us to a point that we won’t do anything rash. But he’s wrong.” I pull Kelly’s face so that I can see it. His jaw is tensed. “When he finds out that the FBI is town, there is no going back for us. We are dog meat either way, Kelly.”

Sabrina points a finger in his face, only making the contention worse. “We are getting that map.”

Kelly glares and I pat his shoulders, hoping he’d calm down. “How?”

“It’s relatively safe. We have to wait for him to be at the school. During lunch we’ll take it. Then we’ll call Owens and tell him we have something for him,” Sabrina explains. “Simple.”

I flash an innocent smile at Kelly. “Sounds easy enough, right?”

“I have no other option but to agree to this.” Kelly brushes my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Please be careful, Cecily Wolf.”

It is the next day. I’m sitting next to Hazel while pretending that nothing is happening during lunch. A few tables down, there’s an awkward, teenage make-out scene and the table behind them is filled with a bunch of nerds who dug up their old Pokémon cards and are having epic duels against each other. The girl sitting on the table behind us snickers, and a dude from across the room laughs loudly, gaining unwanted (or wanted) attention.

“Stop chewing on your lip. You’re going to tear a whole through it,” Hazel nags me.

Another cackle sounds from the kid and I look in his direction, bemused.

“What if it’s a sub?” I whisper to Hazel after a minute. She’s quietly reading her book.

Her green eyes meet mine. “Stop stressing, Cecily. Most people would be praising the sky to avoid their offender.” Her voice is kept extremely low.

My head shakes. “Something is wrong, Hazel. Something that we can’t see yet.”

“Well, I’m sure the dude is pissed that the FBI is hunting him down.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Not funny. There is seriously something gnarly going down.”

“Sabrina?”

Confusion fills me. Is Hazel asking me if Sabrina’s gnarly? “What about her?”

“The duchess is behind you.” She nudges her head in her direction.

Turning around, I see her with a few royals. She’s glaring at me and refuses to come closer than five feet. “Cecily Wolf,” she says, nicer than to be expected. “Cat got your face?”

The scratch marks still appear on my face, it is true. I stand up and face her. “Yeah, it was a black alley cat named Sabrina. What do you want?”

Sabrina sneers. “Your shoes are ugly. Just thought I’d let you know.”

I look down at my dingy black boots, which aren’t ugly, and back to her. “If you liked them, I wouldn’t be wearing them, would I?”

Sabrina rolls her eyes and struts away with her posse. “If I wore them, you couldn’t afford them.” With a wicked smile, she releases a short laugh.

Hazel and I sit there through the end of lunch. But when the bell rings, we don’t go to World Civ—we head out the doors to go home and skip class.

Once we reach the car, Sabrina steps out in front of it and puts her hands on her waist. We don’t say a word to each other as we all climb inside.

“Our secret code words are awesome.” Sabrina’s in the back, leaning between the front seats so that her head is between ours. “Epic.”

Hazel covertly turns up the music, as if to drown her out. It’s clear that she would love to fling her fist back and into Sabrina’s face.

The keywords go: If my shoes are ugly, there is a sub. If they are super ugly, Leison’s there. If Leison isn’t there, we ditch and go back to my house to discuss epic battle plans. And we don’t really know what those are yet, but we are going to discuss the crap out of them!

I fake smile. “We can’t have you being nice to me, can we? I wouldn’t want your reputation to be damaged.”

“Please, I’m more worried about Leison finding out that we are a team. He’d kill us both, I swear it,” Sabrina replies seriously. As if he isn’t going to already. Sitting back into her seat, she places her forehead against the cool window, staring out at the city as we drive on our way. “And the alley cat thing, really?”

I laugh. “It fit perfectly.” She growls.

I laugh, but inside I try to fight my panic of there being a sub. That means that Leison could be anywhere––stalking us, watching us, planning the horrible things he intends to do to us . . . I fight the urge to puke again.

The air is heavy. Gray clouds in the sky shadow the town, ruining its normally thriving spirit. Perhaps the serial killer contributes to the foreboding feeling. It’s one of those days off of a horror movie—dark and spooky, awaiting some sort of impending doom.

I look back at Sabrina. Haunted and traumatized, she stares out the window that her head rests against. Purple bags linger under her tired eyes and bruises are visible under her foundation. Sabrina glances at me and smiles, revealing a huge gash in her bottom lip. Not long ago, I would have said that she deserved it––but I know she’s seen the worst of Leison’s abuse, and I think that no one deserves abuse like that. “Has Leison tried to contact you at all?”

A shake of the head is her response. Perhaps that fact scares her.

“Do you think he’s onto us?” Hazel asks.

Sabrina sighs. “Absolutely.”

Hazel stares at me. “Do you think the principal and the officer scared him off after you brushed them away yesterday? He’s not stupid, Cecily. Smith knew that Leison did something to you.”

I look away from her and out the window. “They had nothing to do with this. It was totally Owens. He scared Leison, just as he promised.” The gray clouds remind me of how horrible the day is. “As for Principle Smith––”

“Leison hates the man, despises him really,” Sabrina says quietly. “He’d kill him.”

My body twists in my seat and I stare back at her. “What––why? I can understand Smith not liking Leison . . .”

“That’s why. Smith has been on to him. Rumor says that a girl told Smith that Leison had come onto her during his first week as a teacher. From that day forward, Smith knew that Leison was a bad man.”

Hazel’s mouth drops open. “Why hasn’t he fired the freak yet?”

“He hired a private detective. They found nothing.” Sabrina shakes her head. “And Smith couldn’t possibly fire the community’s most adored new teacher over ‘false’ accusations, could he?”

I feel sick. “How is Leison getting past everyone?”

Sabrina shrugs and looks out the window again. “He’s got tendrils out in the community, woven into everything this city adores. The man is the master of deception.”

“Mold in a piece of bread . . .” Hazel gags.

I recall myself using those words once:
Master of Deception
.

“I think Hazel is right, though,” Sabrina says. “He’s spooked.”

I stare out at the dreary community. Sabrina yawns and closes her exhausted eyes. “I miss my father,” she whispers.

I keep my sights to the slick, black road before us. I feel the same way—missing my father and all. The car becomes quiet as the music plays.

“Let’s hope he’s there tomorrow.” An overwhelming need to vomit fills me, but I push it back and try to be brave. “We
have
to get that map.”

*              *              *

Owens’s car is in my driveway when we arrive home.

Why is he here––could something be wrong? Has he found something new? Did they catch Leison? Impossible.

“Mom!” I
almost
yell while opening the front door, but silence my mouth when I hear talking. “Shh,” I motion the girls. We enter into the house and Hazel shuts the door without making any noise. She’s the boss at it by now; we’ve spent our whole lives sneaking in and out of this house.

Adie sits on the stairs in silence. She shoots me an odd look when I enter. I wonder what’s going on, asking her with one look. In the background I can hear a man and woman talking to Mom. Adie just points toward the kitchen. Something’s wrong with her. I can just sense it.

“Adie, is everything okay?” I ask her, staring at her through observing eyes.

“Mom and Owens are at the table,” she says quietly. “Some lady is with them. They’ve been discussing the mess with Leison, things that they don’t want you to hear.”

As if on cue, my ears perk to tiniest sounds. Eavesdropping? I think so.

We sneak further into the house and stand along the edge of the dim living room. Three people are sitting at the table in the kitchen beyond, which is filled with light from the exposed windows and doors along the back wall. The drapes in the living room are pulled shut for Sabrina when she sleeps––giving us the perfect shadowing to creep.

Only Owens faces us, but pays no attention to our direction. Covertly, I fall to my hands and knees and crawl across the floor like a ninja. I am stealth and no one sees me . . . except Hazel and Sabrina. Adie too, I guess. I’m still a ninja!

We hide in the shadow of the couch, lying curled up on the floor in close proximity, and listen closely to their conversation.

“This man, Mr. Edward Leison,” Owens says reluctantly, “is not really Edward Leison. He has multiple identities. We have reason to believe that his true identity is James Longhorn.”

“How did you find this out?” Mom asks, breathless. “When did you find out?”

The woman sighs. “Just before I came here. We scanned a faculty picture from a yearbook.”

It is quiet for a minute. “You’re the lead?” Mom asks the woman, I guess.

“Mrs. Wolf, I have been following this man for years. Any time a match is made in the database, I get my team on the scene,” she says informatively.

“So, he really is a serial killer . . . a wanted serial killer?” Mom’s voice fills with fear. “If you know who he is, why hasn’t he been stopped yet?”

Owens sighs. “Nina––”

A woman cuts him off. “The man has lightning quick wit. By the time we open a new investigation, his victims are dead and he’s run off to some other place.” She pauses awkwardly. “He’s a monster.”

“And Sheriff Copper?” Mom asks. “What did he have to say about it?”

Owens’s hands rest loudly on the table. “He was unavailable. He is unavailable.”

“That doesn’t sound like Alan . . .” She sighed. “That’s why you called the FBI?”

The woman spoke. “He called the FBI because you are dealing with one of the most notorious serial killers of the decade.”

Mom’s voice trembles when she speaks, “How many girls has he killed—,” She pauses to take a shallow breath, “Special Agent Owens?”

My eyes widen as I stare at Hazel.
Special Agent Owens
? I mouth.

He’s a real FBI man! This is far more serious than I thought. I mean, I knew the FBI would be coming, but I didn’t know that Leison is a wanted serial killer—
most notorious of the decade.
The freaking FBI is legitimately tracking this guy!

“Twenty four girls,” the woman says coldly, “that we know of, Mrs. Wolf.”

The three of us poke each other to express our shock.

“How long has he been doing this?” Mom clears her throat.

Awkward silence fills the space. “Twelve years,” she answers.

I can only imagine the horror that fills my mom’s face, because it’s filling mine right now. Twelve years. Twenty four girls––
that they know of
. Leison was dead serious when he said he’d kill Sabrina. I look at her, eyes wide, and she knows exactly why.

Special Agent Owens lets out a breath. “If it wasn’t for a few consistent habits in his MO, we’d never have a chance at catching him. He gets a job at a high school, usually in a secluded area, and preys on three high school seniors––female.” A pause. “He keeps his code; the brain, the slut, the victim. When Sabrina said that, I had a feeling we were dealing with more than a pedophile.”

“How does he get past the system?” Mom asks skeptically. “It seems you could have stopped him before.”

The woman becomes short with my mother. “We have many theories, Mrs. Wolf, as to why he’s always one step ahead of us.”

“The three girls he has kidnapped locally—who are they?”

The woman clears her throat. “Three seniors from last year’s class went missing over the summer. The last place they were reported being seen was at a party in one of the mansions up on the hill after graduation.” I could see her pursing her lips. “The local authorities know about this. They’ve supposedly been searching for them.”

Mom sounds worried. “What about Sheriff Copper?”

“I spoke with his deputy this morning––Deputy Paxson. Does this name sound familiar to you?” Owens asks. “He says his team has searched high and low for the girls.”

“He seems nice enough—he seems to really care about the community. I only met him once, and it was at the very beginning of last year when Alan gave him the position.” A soft bang sounds on the table as she rests her hands down. “Please tell me that you have agents on Leison, though. If Cecily’s right about the authorities here being corrupt, well . . .”

“I assure you that only the best of the bureau are chasing this man,” the woman promises.

Mom talks softly, though she is filled with worry. “Well, how exactly does Longhorn work? What are his methods?”

Owens responds, “He gets a job at a school that is close to a range of mountains. During the school year he picks out his victims. Usually three high school seniors that fit his criteria. Once school is over, he hides them in caves and forces them to starve to death.”

“Caves . . . ?” Sabrina barely whispers to me. She seems skeptical.

“Not the caves,” I reply, hardly audible. “What if
they’re in the mines?
”

I had this strange inkling that I somehow knew this already.

Apparently Sabrina agrees because her pupils dilate and her lip micro-quivers. She nods her head once. “I feel it, too. I don’t know why.”