His high-tech ergonomic chair was before a glass-topped desk, on which sat a computer, presently snoozing, and his notebook and pen. He flipped through the pages, reading his handwriting. Sonja Nilsson was playing private eye, canvassing employees who knew Parker, and she had been feeding him facts as to their possible leads, of which there were not many.
Jon Merritt, 42, ex-husband of Allison Parker, 42. Released from Trevor County Detention, early discharge. Serving 36 months for assault and battery with a deadly weapon causing grievous bodily harm. Parker told police that Merritt said he intended to murder her. As part of plea bargain, the state dropped the attempted murder charge.
Merritt was career law enforcement. Started as rookie, sixteen years ago, Vice, Street Crimes, Narcotics, promoted to detective ten years ago, working corruption and organized crime mostly. Was decorated. No complaints regarding performance until about three years ago.
After Merritt’s release, information arose that he had told other cons in County that when he was released he was going to find Allison and kill her.
Merritt has history of opioid and alcohol abuse. In the years before his arrest, police were dispatched to marital home dozens of times, no arrests made. Merritt sporadically attended various 12-step programs. Unsuccessful. Had not attended for a year prior to assault that led to his arrest.
Merritt and Parker have one child, Hannah. 16.
Allison is senior nuclear engineer at Harmon Energy Products. Has national security clearance. Invented S.I.T. trigger (prototype stolen but recovered) and a fuel rod transportation vessel, key to the company’s product, a small modular reactor, trade named the Pocket Sun.
Motive for wanting to kill Allison unknown. Possibly revenge. Possibly worried that she knew things about him he wouldn’t want brought to light. Might have been motive for initial assault in November of last year. No one interviewed knew what these facts might be.
Merritt characterized as classic sociopath. Charming and highly functioning on one side, rageful and homicidal on the other.
Discharge order invalidated and warrant issued for his arrest for violation of restraining order by trespassing on her property today. Ferrington PD considers this a minor infraction, and is not aggressively investigating, due to workforce shortage and Merritt’s past favorable history in the department.
Merritt’s name and the make and tag of his vehicle are on the countywide wire. He drives a white Ford F-150 pickup, tag JKT345. Unknown if he has other vehicle.
Merritt’s whereabouts not known.
Her lawyer, David Stein, does not know where Allison and Hannah are.
Emails to Marty Harmon and Ruth Parker, her mother, sent from her phone, give no indication of where she might be going.
Profile of Allison Parker re: possible whereabouts.
◦ Generally prefers inland, that is, camping, to beaches. Has rudimentary outdoor skills, sufficient for survival in temperate weather like at present.
◦ No physical conditions affecting travel (true for daughter too).
◦ In good health, athletic, swimmer.
◦ Driving a gray Toyota 4Runner, tag RTD478.
◦ Probably unarmed.
Ferrington PD detective Dunfry Kemp is running the investigation but is making little effort to find Merritt. His name and vehicle are on countywide wire. So are Allison and Hannah. No field detectives assigned to a search for either.
All of Allison’s and Hannah’s known social media sites closed down. Allison’s phone is no longer active. Email accounts might be active, but she’s not responding to messages sent by Harmon or her mother.
Sonja Nilsson interviewing Alli Parker’s coworkers. None have suggested where she might have gone. Still more subjects to contact. Parker has no relatives in the area.
Jon Merritt’s mother lives in Kansas; father is deceased. Mother reported that she’s heard nothing from her son or Alli Parker, with whom she was on terms that were friendly, if distant.
He read through his notes twice. It was enough background.
The Restless Man was restless.
Shaw rose and walked to Sonja Nilsson’s office. She was on the second of her two phones, the off-brand one. Her conversation seemed serious.
She looked up.
He told her, “Going out. Back in an hour or two.”
She nodded and turned her full attention back to the call.
Shaw fished the motorcycle keys from his pocket and walked to the elevator, past some colorful renderings of Pocket Suns. Bright yellow lines radiated outward from the dome of the units, reminding Shaw of nothing so much as the beams emanating from the heads of Christian martyrs in medieval paintings as they were about to meet their ends.
28
He parked on Cross County again — no risk of her deflating any tires now — and made his way along the same route he’d taken earlier in the day, through the woods behind her house.
Jon Merritt assessed the place: Nice enough. Small. A pool, of course. She had to have her pool.
He pictured the seahorse...
The snow...
Spattered with her crimson blood.
Then he dumped the memories and slipped up to the back door.
The lucky SOB got lucky once again.
His ex and daughter had left so fast they’d forgotten to lock the door and set the alarm. The light on the unit glowed green. He stepped inside. He was going to go from room to room to close the drapes but his wife had conveniently done so. Still paranoid, it seemed.
Cartons sat stacked in neat rows against the wall, each one carefully labeled — unlike at the U-Store facility, where she’d tossed things into the containers helter-skelter. A third bedroom was packed floor to crown molding with boxes and racks of clothing.
She’d unpacked only the necessities. Where was she planning on moving permanently? Out into the country? Another state? Her job was important to her but there were other miniature reactor companies. Some had tried to steal her away, he recalled.
Sparse, yes, a residence for a transitional life. Still, she’d built some comfort; the house was homey lite. Cut flowers, real ones, exploded from a half-dozen clear glass vases. Macy’s oriental rugs covered the laminate floors. Pictures on the walls. Every relative was represented but him. She’d done what the Soviet dictators did. Purge.
The ransacking began.
His ex’s bedroom was also her office.
Her laptop was gone, and her desktop locked. He found an old phone that he remembered, a Nokia flip. He recalled it was her second phone — and one she hadn’t told him about — because it was for work, she claimed. One morning a year and a half ago, he woke up, still drunk, alone in their bed and found that he’d thrown the mobile across the room. The device was unharmed. The mirror was shattered. He powered it on now; it was no longer active.
Squatting, Merritt began rifling through her desk, pulling out drawers and dumping the contents on the floor. Looking for diaries, notebooks, address books, envelopes with handwritten return addresses, business and greeting cards, receipts, Post-it notes, bills, credit card statements, flyers...