Tell My Dad (12 page)

A
n hour later
, Assistant Special Agent Joshua Theaker sat across the table from Juan Martinez in Los Gatos Police Department’s holding room. “Juan, there is no point in lying about it. We found the girl’s bracelet in your car. We have an eyewitness. If we find the girl alive, you will spend less time in prison. Think about it.”

Juan was silent.

Theaker hated the silence. He clenched his fists and struggled to control himself. “Where is April?”

Juan looked up and smiled. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Where is my lawyer?”

Theaker ground his teeth.
Bastard is lawyering up. Free lawyers for criminals. What a waste of taxpayers’ money.

“I believe that your lawyer will arrive for your funeral.” Theaker surprised himself by saying that.

The smirk disappeared from Juan’s face. His eyes widened in horror. Theaker liked it. “You know, Juan, only in America you have the freedom to kidnap an innocent girl and ask for a
free lawyer
. I hope that you rot in
hell
along with your lawyer.”

Juan folded his lips and looked down.

Theaker walked out of the holding room and went straight to a small conference room on the right. As he opened the glass door, Assistant Special Agent Kimberly Walck and Officer Kennedy Ross looked up. The Los Gatos map was laid on the conference room table.

“Anything?” Kimberly Walck raised her eyebrow.

Theaker shook his head and sighed. “That sicko is not saying a word. He just lawyered up!” He stood right across the table from Officer Ross and said, “It has been nine hours since the girl was kidnapped. The more time we lose, there is much less chance of finding the girl alive.”

Walck turned to Ross. “We need to find out if this guy has another house or a place where he could hide the girl.”

Ross shook his head. “I don’t think so. Juan is a temporary worker. His mother does not work. They’re renting the house. These folks live paycheck to paycheck. I don’t think this guy has another place to hide the girl.”

Theaker nodded and said, “
Unless
…there is a free place for this bastard to hide the girl.” He noticed the sadness in Kimberly Walck’s face and knew the reason.

More often than not, the FBI team found the victims in the remote parts of state parks or in the mountains. Most of the time, the victims were found dead.

Theaker looked down and ran his right index finger across the surface of the map. “April was kidnapped from here.” He ran his finger down and stopped at a point where “Los Gatos” was written in big red letters. “Juan’s house is here. He took the girl at four o’clock. He was arrested at midnight. So, he had about six to seven hours to hide the girl. We need to search the lakes, state parks, and mountains around all these areas.” He circled the areas surrounding San Jose and Los Gatos. “We should start with these areas and expand to Santa Cruz if needed.”

* * *

T
he San Francisco FBI
team divided themselves into three groups, each focusing on different cities: Los Gatos, San Jose, and Campbell. Theaker asked for assistance from the Sacramento and Los Angeles FBI teams; they were on their way. He instructed local police departments to request volunteers for the search.

Five minutes past six o’clock in the morning, the search was started in Lexington Hills, Vasona Lake, and El Sereno Open Space Reserve simultaneously. As more volunteers joined the effort, the search expanded to Scotts Valley in the south and Woodside in the east.

Theaker received the call at eleven o’clock. Hikers had found the dead body of a young girl on Guadalupe Trail, hidden behind the bushes.

Theaker and Walck reached the trail at noon. Walck’s heart stopped for a second when she saw the girl’s lifeless body lying on the muddy ground, facing the cloudy sky. April looked like an angel just fallen from the sky.

A
pril threw
her hands out the window. “Tell my dad! Tell my dad…” The blue Toyota Corolla sped past. The driver kept his left hand on the steering wheel, turned his head to the backseat, and used his right hand to pull April down onto the backseat. She fell down and landed on the floor mat.

“I want my dad” she sobbed.

“
April
!” Harrison woke up with a scream. The pain in his head was intense. He pulled the bed sheet up and wiped his face. Tears poured from his eyes. He gave up on controlling the tears. Many years ago, he thought that his tears might dry out after too much crying. It did not happen. He switched on the light and checked the time. It was ten minutes past midnight.

April was found dead a day after she was kidnapped. Juan Martinez’s DNA was ensconced in April’s tiny fingernails. When Harrison saw Juan during the trial, the pervert smiled at him.
No regrets
.

The San Jose County district attorney sought the death penalty for the heinous crime. After many months of trial, the jury concluded that Juan was guilty. He was given a lethal injection in 2014, a full ten years after being sentenced to death. In all those years he had been allowed to live on after his victim, he had never shown any remorse for the innocent life he destroyed.

The pain spread across his shoulders and crawled all the way down his spine.

He placed the pillow upright, leaned on it, and closed eyes. He could hear his breathing. He wanted to see only blackness, but he saw Taryn. Nothing else.

He watched Taryn sitting in the window seat and staring at her laptop screen. She heard the loud thud and watched in horror as the flight attendant fell on her shoulder. She heard a scream coming from the front seats. Fire streamed past and right through her.

He felt like he was going to throw up. He slowly walked over to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face.

He breathed hard as he sat on the bed. He switched on the television to distract his mind from replaying the tragedy.

“The FBI team found the backpack and shoes of the seven-year-old girl kidnapped in Danville. The search continues in the Mount Diablo Foothills Regional Park.” Breaking news flashed on the screen.

He grabbed the alarm clock from the nightstand and threw it at the television. “Bastards…”

Why don’t you target someone your own age?

Blood boiled all over his body. He looked through the window. It was dark outside. The alarm clock lying on the floor flashed 1:00 a.m. for a second before going dark.

He took a deep breath. Then, he sat cross-legged on the bed, closed his eyes, and started to meditate. He remembered Monk Dharma and his words.

Leave it to God
.
Anger is evil; it will eat you alive.

Meditation helped him sleep better—but not today. He wanted to see only darkness when he closed his eyes. Instead, he saw April giggling and calling him
silly
. Taryn held his hands and walked toward Memorial Church in Stanford. A cop asked for April’s picture.

He opened his eyes, stretched his legs, rolled to his left into the fetal position, and pulled the comforter up to fully cover himself. He closed his eyes. April and Carol chased butterflies.

Leave it to God? That did not work.

He sobbed and sobbed until sleep took away his misery temporarily.

G
eorge Williams leaned closer
to the mirror and looked at the bleeding wound below his right eye. He smiled a little as he pushed his tongue up to hit his upper mouth, which made a click sound. The blood trickled down to his neck. He looked around, removed toilet paper from the roller, soaked it under the running water, and pressed hard against the wound.
Man, it feels good.

He stared at the blue wall as he sat on the granite counter top.
Time to party.
He made a little jump onto the vinyl floor, opened the drawer below the sink, grabbed neomycin ointment, squeezed it to get a pea-size amount, and applied it on the wound.
Fighting is good. Blood is nice.

Then, he switched off the bathroom lights as he reentered the bedroom. A girl, in her late twenties, lay on the bed with her eyes closed. Her face looked at the ceiling; her arms and legs were spread horizontally. She showed no movement. He removed the bed sheet that covered her naked body and jumped on her.

A few minutes later, he made a little dance movement as he slowly walked toward the kitchen and looked for something better than beer. He pulled open the door below the sink and found Drano. He opened it and pushed his face down slowly to inhale the aroma of the sink drainer. Immediately, he pushed back. The stench was different but strong. He inhaled, exhaled, and pushed his face down again. It felt better this time. He waited for a minute to let the flavor settle in his lungs. He pushed his face down again and slowly inhaled. He pulled back when his head started hurting.

The earth under him shook a little, as if there had been an earthquake. The beer bottle on the dining room table looked blurry. He grabbed it, filled it with water, and walked back into the bedroom. The girl was still unconscious. He walked closer to her, titled her head upward, and emptied the bottle on her nose.

The girl violently woke up and choked.

He moved back a little and laughed hard. The girl kept choking. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her until the choking came to a full stop.

Now, the girl coughed heavily and looked at him. “George, please—please let me go home. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Oh, dear Beth!” He rubbed his reddish eyes. “Well, you can’t tell anyone because you are not leaving my house.”

The girl whimpered. She tried to get up and failed. “What did you do to me? I trusted you, George. Please let me go.” She put her palms together and pleaded.

He laughed again and winked. “You look good without any clothes, Beth!” He pulled the bed sheet down.

The girl fought to keep the bed sheet on. “You are a monster, bastard.”

“You have no idea!” He jumped on her and landed on the bed with his left palm on the pillow, right next to her right ear. His right hand reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a sharp steel knife and slid it across her neck from right to left.

She screamed for two seconds and died. He pulled her face up and made her lips touch the wound below his eye. “Lick it. See what you did. Lick it, bitch!” He did that ritual two times before throwing her head back to the pillow.

The girl’s eyes stared at the ceiling. He smiled at her dead eyes and the blood-covered pillow.

Then, he rolled over on her left, cuddled her, and slept.

* * *

T
he alarm sounded
like an ambulance siren and abruptly ended his sleep. He hit the snooze, cursed the phone, and then turned to see the girl in the pool of blood.

Shit. What a mess.

He jumped out of the bed, stared at the girl, and tried to remember what had happened. Then, he shrugged, lifted her naked body, and carried her over to the bathtub, which had been customized to add more depth.

After carefully placing her inside the tub, he walked to the walk-in closet in the corner of the bedroom. The closet was big enough to accommodate a queen-size bed, although it was used to store chemicals. It had three shelves on each side. He reached to the top shelf and donned a chemical gas mask. Then, he grabbed a bottle from the lower shelf. He walked into the bathroom, switched on the exhaust fan, and then slowly poured the sulfuric acid from the bottle into the tub.

He quickly walked out of the bathroom after emptying the bottle. He heard the bubbling sound from the tub as he closed the door. He removed the gas mask, threw it on the floor, opened the balcony door, and inhaled the fresh air. The wind blowing from San Pablo Bay chilled his face. He took a quick peek at the clock mounted on the living room wall. Ten o’clock in the morning.

He pulled out a cigarette pack and smoked it away one by one. He had about thirty minutes to kill, until the acid did its job and melted the dead girl’s skin away to keep just the bones in the tub.

* * *

I
t was the next morning
. George held a Peet’s coffee cup in his right hand, sipped a little, and waited for the walk signal near San Francisco State University. The Muni train was approaching the station across the street. He jumped into the street as soon as the walk signal lit up and ran toward Muni while making sure not to spill coffee on the street. Muni had served San Francisco residents reasonably well for more than one hundred years. The cars were small but better than BART trains, which had mostly filthy seats. He maneuvered his way into a Muni car and found a place to stand near the door. The train started moving.

On his left, a big poster was pasted on the train’s vinyl interior, a very attractive poster indeed. The California Academy of Arts invited students to apply for modeling and acting programs. He caught sight of a young, attractive brunette in his peripheral vision. She held the handrail steady and stared at the poster for a minute. Then, she balanced her standing position by pressing her toes on the train’s wobbly floor and took a picture of the poster using her Samsung Galaxy phone.

He smiled at her. She smiled back.

“I studied there.” He pointed at the poster. “It’s a good school. It made me what I am today.”

“Cool. Are you an actor?” the brunette asked.

“No. I am a photographer. Also, a casting agent.”

The girl’s eyes opened wide.

He wanted to keep the momentum going. “I help young actors get in front of casting directors.”

“Wow, that is an interesting job!”

“Yeah, it is. Stressful as well.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a well-designed business card. “My name is George Williams. Call me if you want me to help you get into college or if you want to model. You have a gorgeous camera face!” He winked.

“Oh, really?” The girl blushed. She paused for a moment and shook his hand. “Mr. Williams! My name is Selena Perez. I am a senior in St. John. I would love to get into modeling, even just for one picture.”

“Call me George. I’ll take more than one picture.” He winked again. “Hey, I have a Facebook fan page. You will find the URL on the back of my business card. Check it out! I have tons of likes!”

“Cool! I will!”

Muni came to stop with a screeching sound. Selena peered through the window to make sure it was her stop and said, “I have to go. See ya!”

George waved back.
Call me soon!

* * *

G
eorge got
the call in less than eight hours. “Mr. Williams! This is Selena. I checked out your fan page. It’s so cool, you know!”

He twisted his lips and half-smiled.
I know.
“Thanks, Selena. It’s very kind of you to say that.”

There was silence on the other side.

“Are you there, Selena?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I did not know how to say…” She struggled for words.

“It’s okay. I know you want to model. That’s your dream! Don’t hesitate to say it loud. Am I correct?”

“Yes! Yes!” She giggled.

“Let me tell you something. I think you have a great talent. A Disney show’s casting director is visiting the city next week. I can introduce you to her.” George made sure that his voice sounded authentic.

“Oh, really?” Selena could not believe what she had just heard. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me. I can swear right now. You are my savior!”

I am your god
.
I decide your fate.

“No worries, Selena. I will check my calendar and set up a time.” George continued with a question, “I guess after school is the best time for you?”

“Yeah, that will work. When do we meet?”

“Hold on.” George put the phone on mute and waited for a minute as if he were busy checking his calendar. “Okay, I can pick you up after school on Friday. I have a studio in Novato, in North Bay.” He noticed hesitation on the other side. “I have all the equipment in the studio. It’s much easier to do it there.”

“Sure, sure,” Selena said in a hurried voice. She did not want him to mistake her hesitation for lack of interest. “I’ll see you on Friday. You know where St. John is, don’t you?”

“Yep. I know. I’ll be outside at three o’clock. I have a red BMW. You won’t miss it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Williams. I’m looking forward to it!”

Me too.
George clicked the end button on the phone.