Twilight Is Not Good for Maidens (18 page)

Holly traded glances with Ann. It was as if the criminal had found the weak underbelly of the force distribution. But something was a bit different. “The timing is getting closer. First it’s two weeks. Now it’s two days.”

Sandcut Beach, unlike the more established spots, was merely a slice in the forest where a person could walk to the ocean in minutes. It was part of the JDF Trail, but also a popular place for picnics. To the untutored eye of a driver, the unmarked entrance looked like a pull-off. But locals knew parking meant an attraction and kept information to themselves. A record-breaking Douglas fir, a fishing spot, a waterfall. Someone could be in and out in less than ten minutes. Any camping would be purely off the cuff. No sites. No registration. No drinking water. No toilets. Nature in the raw, like purists preferred.

“EMTs.” Ann picked up the phone. At least it wasn’t a matter of life and death.

Ashley gulped back a breath. “Um, I did crease the fender a little bit as I was leaving. A stump came out of nowhere and …”

“Never mind about the car. What did she say?” If Ashley had blown this one, conducted an impromptu interview that had upset the girl, she would be finding yet another secondment if not a new uniform as a security guard at Wal-Mart.

Ashley had her hands on her hips. Then she shifted and rubbed her neck with one hand. “She was pretty hysterical, but I calmed her down. Gave her some water. Told her to breathe. There are some marks on her neck. A sore shoulder. Nothing too serious.”

“What did the marks on the neck look like?” Holly asked, but remembered that Ashley had seen neither victim. They needed to get back out to the girl, but at this stage, any tiny detail might be critical.

“I didn’t look real carefully, but I didn’t see them at Sombrio, remember? It’s just so similar, though, don’t you think?” She scratched behind her ear absentmindedly. “Still …” Her voice trailed off.

Ann gave the contact information, hung up, and made a note. “If you think rape isn’t serious, try it sometime. I’m going to put on a fresh pot of tea. If she’s close to shock, she might take some honey in it. Have a little empathy for a change. We’re going to start thinking that
you’re
a sociopath.” She went into the lunchroom for the kettle. The sound of running water reached the room.

Ashley had opened her mouth, but closed it as Ann left. Then she flicked at a finger. Her purple designer nails had fresh stars and glitter, an indulgence hard to understand in an active profession. “But listen. You won’t believe it. She claims that she can give us identification. She saw the guy. It was daylight.”

Holly nearly gave her a hug, despite her patent dislike of the constable. “Saw him? All right! Maybe we have a break.” The fact that the attack was carried out in daylight didn’t mesh, but maybe the rapist had gotten careless. Cases like the Zodiac Killer rapist came to mind. The BTK murderer. Why was Ashley being so blasé? A posturing?

Ashley reached onto her desk for an energy drink, popped the top and slugged it back, stifling a burp.

“But what’s this about her ‘claiming’ that she saw the guy? Why would you use language like that? To her? That’s insulting.”

Ashley shrugged. “I know better. Give me some credit, even if you don’t like me.”

Holly refused to rise to the passive-aggressive bait. “Did you make her nervous? Feed her any information? You should have called in for an inspector who knows the procedures.” Interviewing was a skill which took years to learn.

Ashley shoved her large hands into her pockets. “I told you. The damn radio wasn’t working. It was just as far to come here than to go to Rennie.”

There was no detachment in Port Renfrew, only a fire station with limited first-aid care. Maybe the woman had a point. “Okay. She’s had the time she requested. Let’s get her into my office,” Holly said.

What was the matter with Ashley? This was what they had been waiting for. This was no time to sound so casual and skeptical, as if she was putting the girl on trial. Was Ashley still pouting about the reprimand about Trey? Talk about thin skin. A paranoid type they didn’t need in the force, nor a diva who made everything about her.

As they left the office, Holly rapped herself upside the head. “What’s her name?” Being friendly and understanding would be important. The girl needed support and affirmation from a team ready to roll. They had already left her alone for an unconscionable time. Holly felt adrenaline charge her veins.
Calm down. Do it by the book. Cases have been lost by poor timing
.
The girl is probably a basket case waiting for you to get your butt in gear.

“Ellen something. I didn’t write it down.” Ashley gave herself a rap upside the head. “Damn. I wasn’t thinking straight. Just wanted to get back here.”

Ellen Hughes was huddled in the back of the patrol car with a clean pillow and a soft blue blanket they kept in a tote in the trunk along with stuffed animals to comfort children. Points to Ashley for making her comfortable. Holly opened the door and bent to her level. The girl’s Madonna-like oval face was streaked with dirt and tears. Holly groaned inwardly. No tissue in the cruiser? Chipper took care of those details.

“Hello, Ellen. Please call me Holly. I’m glad you’re safe. Can you come in and talk to us now? You can stay in my office until the EMTs arrive. How about some coffee or tea, or maybe a cold drink?” Ann would be useful with her experience as a mother. An only child who never babysat, Holly didn’t feel she had a rapport with children. Then she chided herself.
You are in charge. Act like it. And this isn’t a child, it’s a woman, despite her doll-like size.

“Thanks, I don’t think I feel very well. I’m kind of sore. You know? Down there?” She squirmed apologetically, her voice rising at the end of each phrase as if seeking validation. “But maybe a diet Coke?”

Holly leaned forward and put out an arm. “Here, let me …”

“Thanks. I can walk okay.” With a wince, Ellen got out and moved slowly toward the cottage, as if even breathing hurt.

Holly remembered what Boone had told her about the tears on Lindsay’s vagina. She gave the tiny woman credit for courage in the face of horror. That she wasn’t a puddle of sobs was amazing.

Ellen leaned into Holly’s guiding arm with a look in her soft caramel eyes which would melt steel. “It was so beautiful at the beach. It didn’t … I’ve been there so many times.…” Then she swallowed and squeezed her eyes together. Obviously she was holding herself together with mental duct tape.

As they went up the steps, Ashley held the door. Holly motioned to her, using her head. Catching the drift, Ashley took the girl’s other arm, and they lifted her up the last two steps. Beside the taller woman, Ellen looked like a broken grade-schooler.

Ann came forward with a tissue box and gave it to Holly. “Shouldn’t be long now. The Major Crimes unit just left. Is there anyone else I can notify for you, Ellen? Someone who could come right out, or meet you at the General later? Your parents or a relative or friend?” Holly swallowed back her own reproof. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Of course the young woman would need support ASAP. Ann’s instincts were golden.

Ellen put a hand on the wall for support, then pulled the blanket closer and shivered although the room was close to baking in the late morning sun. “My parents live in Abbotsford. They’ll be at work. My boyfriend Rudy, he has a townhouse on Kaltasin Road.” She gave them his cell number, and Ann quickly wrote it down. “He was supposed to come with me on a picnic this morning. I had it all packed and everything, but he had to take care of his aunt. She’s not really with it.” She gave a whirly gesture with her finger and her temple. “Poor old lady.” Her nose was still running. Holly offered her a tissue, and she took a wad.

As they all stood there in the crowded foyer, Holly revised her plans. The lunchroom had a small, duct-taped leather couch. More spacious than her office and just as private. “In here, please, Ellen,” she said. “There’s more room.”

The girl followed. Barely five feet tall and one hundred pounds soaking wet, she sat on the couch and trembled. Her complexion was light tan, eyes slightly almond-shaped, hinting an Oriental connection. British Columbia had a high percentage of Asians, railroad workers in the nineteenth century up to post-Hong Kong refugees. Her throat had the same red ligature marks, darker than Maddie’s but less serious than the broken skin and bruises on Lindsay. “Is regular Coke okay? Or we can make tea.”

“The pop’s fine. My throat is sore where he … his hands … he was so strong.” She touched it gently and swallowed again, then took the can Holly gave her from the mini-fridge. Chipper was the only one who drank pop, and he hated artificial sweeteners. What was he doing now? He must be worried half out of his mind and bored the rest of the time. But here was an eye witness. As soon as Ellen was gone, Holly was going to contact him if she had to play phone tag all day.

Ellen took a few sips, grimacing. Her nose twitched at the bubbles and she wiped her upper lip. “Thanks. I’m a bit shaky.”

“No wonder, with the shock. You’re doing great. I’m proud of you.” Those last four one-syllable words were what everyone wanted to hear, from babyhood to the grave. Simple, but they hit home.

A nod from Ellen. She slipped off her sandals and eased her legs up onto the couch. “Ouch. Gosh, my back hurts, too. He was pressing me against those rocks on the beach.” Holly moved forward to tuck the blanket around her feet. At least Ellen wasn’t crying. Getting information out of someone distracted and hysterical was a nightmare.

Holly said, “While we’re waiting, I’m going to ask you a few questions. Not many, I promise. It’s important that you tell your story as soon as possible, while it’s fresh in your mind, even though it’s hard. And you might remember more details later.” She opened her notebook, timed and dated the page. With the third incident, she was getting her language letter perfect. But the fates that had inflicted this much pain on three women were teaching her hard lessons.

“Do you think that this is the same crazy man everyone’s been talking about? It was on the news again last night. They haven’t found him, have they?” Ellen asked. She blew her nose and balled up the tissue.

“I’m afraid that he’s still out there.” Holly tried to think ahead for the victim. A whirlwind was about to break loose. When they heard about this attack, Ed and his crew would be all over the poor girl. Did they have a female inspector in the area? She went to the door, and before closing it, heard Ann say on the phone, “Mr. Gemmell, we’d like you to come out to give Ellen your support. Family and friends are important now.” How had she opened? Your girlfriend has been raped? It wouldn’t be the first time that a rape had broken up a relationship. Sometimes it was the fault of the insensitive man, and other times the woman couldn’t return to normal, even after years.

Mouthing “just a sec” to Ellen, Holly slipped out of the lunchroom for a moment and made eye contact with Ann, raising a brow as a question.

“He’ll be right here. Thank God. He was taking his aunt to the library in Sooke,” she whispered to Holly, who gave her a nod. “Sounds worried as hell. How’s she doing?”

“Calm enough. She’s tough for her size. I’m just starting to question her.” She began to turn, then said, “I hope Ed’s coming. For all I know, Russell Crew is still out of town. It’s important to be consistent if you want to see the patterns,” she said.

Ann snapped her fingers. “I asked for him specifically. Did you know I could read minds?”

Returning to her own
battered oak armchair, Holly floated a reassuring but concerned smile to Ellen. The girl sipped at her soda, gripping it with tiny hands, the nails bitten. It was difficult not to give her a hug and say, “There, there.” Almost as an afterthought, a tear trickled down her cheek. Everyone took a crisis differently. Some fell apart immediately, some later, some bounced back and forth, and some never cracked. Ellen gave another sniff. “Sorry. This is stupid. I should be grateful to be sitting alive and talking to you. That other girl I read about….”

“I’ll just keep you another minute. Then you can close your eyes and rest until the EMTs come. And Rudy’s on his way,” she said. “The inspector in charge will talk to you, too.” She kept her voice upbeat, coaxing without prodding. The earlier the information, the better. Women might want to forget as much as possible, and small wonder. But to be alive and well, wasn’t that the point? She couldn’t imagine the strength of that Utah girl who had been abducted for months by religious zealots, forced to live in the desert and submit to continual assaults and brainwashing. Now back with her family, she had become a spokesperson and inspiration. One in a million. Things rarely worked like that.

Ellen’s voice quivered along with her pointed chin. Her long auburn hair pulled into a ponytail stuck out awkwardly. “Honestly, I just want to forget this. It’s like a nightmare.” She touched her neck again and her eyes radiated despair. “My necklace. My sister gave it to me. It was pink coral. We got it in Disneyland on the last trip she could make.”

“The last trip?” It helped to let Ellen know that someone who cared was listening.

“She died of cystic fibrosis when she was only sixteen.” Her eyes rimmed over again and moaned. “Sometimes I wish it could have been me. Mom tells me not to say that. We really miss her.”

Holly nodded in sympathy. The wire method. Those two other trophies taken from Maddie and Lindsay. Everything was coming together. “Possibly it will turn up at the scene. The important point is that you’re okay.”

Ellen said, “Sorry. I’m being stupid. You’re right. It just meant so much.”

“I felt that way about a raven pendant my mother wore. She’s … not with us anymore, so I understand.” Holly levelled eyes at her. She wanted to get right to the crime, but maybe groundwork would help the girl begin. “You’re very lucky. You must concentrate on that.”

Ellen’s voice narrowed into a defensive whine. “Tell me about it. I was so totally dumb to go to the beach alone, but I’ve always seen people there. I mean it’s not like it’s usually deserted or anything.” She finished the Coke and put the empty can on the table, twisting her fingers. “Rudy will be here soon. I must look a mess. Do you have a brush or something I could borrow? I could put on some makeup. I have my purse.” Beside her was a cumbersome shoulder bag the size of a baby camel. She was clinging to it like a life raft.

Holly found the disconnect between Ellen’s preoccupation with her appearance and what had happened to her strange, but she was hardly material for the catwalk herself. Holly gave her face and hair a few minutes each morning, letting her youth and health lead. “Not until the physical examination is over, Ellen. Rudy will understand. You’re strong and smart and beautiful, and what you say is going to help catch this man so that no other woman will have anything to fear.”

“I grew up in Vancouver and hated the big city. When I first crossed on the ferry, I fell in love with the island. And now …”

“A lot of us feel like that, Ellen. It’s a special place. I love the wilderness, too.” She made a point of using the girl’s name to personalize the interview and establish rapport.

She figured that she had perhaps twenty minutes before the others arrived. “So tell me how the day started. One step, then another. We have plenty of time. This will make it easier when you have to go over the story again.”
If not three more times. Poor kid
.

Taking this as a cue to provide her biography, Ellen said that she lived in a small downstairs flat in Esquimalt, but she had been staying with her boyfriend Rudy this week. He was a Shaw Communications manager in the city. “Rudy’s great aunt lives in Sooke on Eaglecrest Road. He got his training in Manitoba and worked in Winnipeg until last year.”

The girl seemed proud of her boyfriend, so Holly let her veer off topic. “I was in The Pas myself. And Eaglecrest isn’t far from where I live now,” Holly said.

“Her husband died last year,” she continued. “I mean he was pretty old, over seventy, and she’s been having a tough time alone. Rudy goes to see her once a week, helps with the groceries. He’s such a sweetheart. His mom in Calgary made him promise to keep an eye on her. He does some yard work. Takes her for medical appointments. Sometimes he even makes dinner.”

A man not afraid of domestic chores. Rudy sounded like a keeper. His support would be important for Ellen. “Go on. So you went to the beach?”

“He dropped me off. Only for a few hours. I took some fruit and drinks. A paperback.” She opened the purse and pulled out one of the latest vampire sagas.

“Did you see any cars when he let you off?” The lot at Sandcut on West Coast Road had very little room.

“He was going to come back for me at noon and take me to Point No Point for a late lunch. I love the view, and the food’s great.” Holly had enjoyed a few meals there herself at the only restaurant between Sooke and Port Renfew.

“So he let you off around…?”

“Ten.” She turned to Holly with a satisfied look. Then she paddled her fingers on the sofa, gathering her memory. “There was one car at the parking spot. It was a Honda. One of the little old ones. A Civic, I think. Red. Or that burgundy colour. It had a child’s car seat in it, I think. But I can’t be sure.”

The child’s seat part sounded odd, but maybe it would be a clincher.

“And the licence?”

“I wasn’t paying any attention.” She put her head in her hands. “I was thinking how nice the beach would be … and about our lunch coming up. How could I know…?” Her voice trailed off.

Holly’s throat was tightening, and she took a deep breath. The last thing she wanted to do was make the girl feel responsible for her fate. “That’s totally normal. If I weren’t a police officer, I wouldn’t think twice about it.” TV shows often featured idiot savants who remembered entire telephone book pages. The average person had trouble registering the state or province of a licence unless it was unusual, like Yukon’s polar bear shape or Florida’s orange. The many varieties, even in B.C., were making things even tougher.

“I took the path to the beach. It’s cute where people have made the big old stumps into little goblins by putting stones in the axe cuts. I had a towel to lie on and my book. Silly and romantic but a good fast read. I work at the library downtown as an assistant, so I get first pick.”

Way too much information, even if Ellen seemed to need to talk. Holly tried a prompt. “Was the beach deserted, or did you see anyone?”

The girl’s pale brown eyes took a rubbing with her small fist. The sclera was reddened from weeping. “I just lay down and started to read. It was so beautiful and sunny. We don’t often have days like that after the rainy season starts. Then it gets too cold for me.”

“I know. Go on.” Not many knew that the island had regular monsoons starting in October, building to January, then tapering until daffodils bloomed in March.

The girl took another drink. “I missed breakfast, so I finished the fruit and juice. There was no wind. The waves were lapping at the beach. I got drowsy.”

That sounded almost poetic, Holly thought, considering Ellen’s ordeal. They were coming to the tricky part. The key information was here. Holly could feel her heart beating in an anticipating dance. What she was going to hear made the difference between an arrest and a case which might grow cold. Ellen gave a shudder and started to cry.

“Take a breath. I know this is hard. You’re doing great. Really,” Holly said. “Do you need a bathroom break?” She couldn’t even let her wash her face. Trace like hairs or DNA could be anywhere. Or nowhere. Those traces from Lindsay’s fingernails were all they had, and it might be her own skin. Then there was that stupid paper scrap. Probably another blind alley.

“There was a sudden coolness, like a shadow in front of the sun. I thought I heard someone move over the rocks. Then I felt hands coming around my neck, and I tried to scream.”

“Steady now. Go on.”

“I couldn’t even breathe. He got some kind of rope or cord around my neck. Then he pushed me into the bushes … where … where …”

Holly had been holding her breath. She coughed as her stress meter jumped ten points. The word had to be said. The elephant in the corner of the room woke up. “He raped you. Is that correct?” Holly said the words in an almost clinical way.

Ellen nodded, staring out their one tiny window. Her little doll eyes opened and closed. How old was she? Holly had forgotten to ask. Twenty at the most? And working already. Did she have plans for marriage, college, or both? At least she would have the chance, unlike Lindsay.

“Did you see him?”
One question at a time. Don’t confuse or rush her
.

The voice turned hard, as if it were gaining strength at the idea of justice, or was it revenge? The muscles at the sides of her mouth tightened into resolve as she choked out the words. “I sure did. I’ll never forget him as long as I live. That face is burned into my brain. He was right in front of me.” She hugged herself for protection. “He was so heavy. God, I thought it would never end. It might have been less than a minute. I have a feeling that he didn’t last long, if you know what I mean.”

Her attacker was at least six feet four, Ellen said with a decisive tone. “A bit taller than my boyfriend. A lot younger. Rudy is thirty.” As for other distinguishing features, he had a goatee, one of those special ones made by a razor. Holly had seen that style in a hundred
People
magazines. Ellen couldn’t pinpoint the colour of his eyes, just that they were dark, either black or brown. His hair was dark brown, medium cut, kind of smushed up in the middle. His neck trimmed. A slight citrus aftershave masking body odor. “That smell made me sick. He pushed something over my face, a ball cap maybe, but I saw anyway. He wasn’t very muscular, more wirey. Not fat at all. His skin looked pockmarked. Like he’d had acne.” She paused for a moment. “Do you think that being ugly made him do this? I mean we’re not supposed to talk like that, but …”

“Did your clothes get torn?” She couldn’t see much of what the girl was wearing.

“My board shorts. They had an elastic waist. He pulled them off. Ripped my panties.” She gave an ironic laugh. “I guess they’re still there. On the beach.”

Or perhaps taken as a grim souvenir like the necklace, though collecting clothing was not part of the original M.O. How could you secure a scene with one or two people, attend to the victim, and comb the area for clues with no staff and no communications? Evidence “gone with the wind.”

“We’ll be sending someone back to collect whatever they can find on the beach. How far were you from where the path meets the ocean?”

“Real close. I wasn’t there to beachcomb. Just to the right as you come down.”

“Do you recall what he was …”

“Wearing? I sure do. Cut-off jean shorts and a T-shirt. Both were dark green, maybe so he could hide. I got a good look from the back when he ran off. His eyebrows were bushy, and he wore a big metal watch. Are they called Rolexes? Probably a knock-off.” Words were spilling from her in anger.

Holly was writing as fast as she could. The girl was a gold mine of information. How could she be so thorough after being brutally violated? Perhaps it was just a thrust or two before it aborted. But knowing that you might die in minutes? This kind of coolness under fire was to her credit. “Anything written on the shirt?” Hardly any T-shirt was without its own cause: a rock event, place, political statement.

Ellen scratched the end of her sunburned nose. “No. Sorry. I guess that would really help, wouldn’t it? But I told you lots of things, right? Now can you find him?”

The man might as well be standing here. “You’ve given us a super description. Good for you to be able to concentrate. I don’t think I could, that is, if …” She shut up while the going was good. Something else was different here. The other attacks had happened at night. This was during the day. Maybe that’s why he used the hat to blind her. Getting bolder? An opportunist? It was as if the man wanted to be caught. The old cliché of a cry for help.

The girl shrugged. “I’m pretty good with details. I like to draw, see. I might go into fashion design and take some night courses once I save up. Hey, maybe I could work with the police. Do they have computer programs for that now? I know they used to use real artists. In the movies or on TV, anyway. My mom likes those psychic shows where they solve those cold cases.”

Holly swept a hand over her own short hair, buying time to think for a second. “Back up a bit, if you can. You say that he ran off. How did that happen? I mean, why do you think he left you? Did he say anything?” Before what, before he killed you? She kept quiet, half wanting the girl to say that nothing happened. But if there had been an ejaculation….

Ellen gripped the sides of the couch. Her legs curled in a defence against pain. Stone bruises and a few small cuts from debris were all Holly could see. Beneath the blanket, the neck on her T-shirt was torn. A few fir needles fell from her hair as she brushed at her small, shell ear. “I don’t want to think about this, but he had a stutter.”

“Really? He said something?”

“Nothing that made much sense. Sort of like ‘sssssshut up.’ And he called me the B word. That’s all.”

Another thought occurred to Holly. “Was he wearing a condom?” In some ways, criminals were getting smarter. It took planning and timing, but television and movies had taught lessons. But a man couldn’t put on a condom unless he was aroused. That made the logistics tricky.

The girl blew out a breath, shuddering at the end. “Not unless he put one on just before he attacked me. If you mean did I feel him come, I didn’t. And afterwards, there wasn’t …” She stared in horror. “I don’t want to be pregnant by
him
. Rudy and I are … my god, do you think that could happen?” She gave a sharp intake of breath. A small blue vein was beating at the pulse of her throat. Panic entered her eyes.