“So you think she’s running away?”
“That’s my guess. She definitely took steps to evade the guards. But none of her clothes are missing, and her toothbrush, hairbrush, stuff like that, are still in her room.”
Delilah sat back in her chair and shook her head slowly. She looked sad.
“That poor, lonely kid. How frightened she must be. I can’t imagine.”
Delilah’s intercom buzzed. “There’s a Jerry Philips at the front desk,” the receptionist said. “He wants to talk to you about Ashley Spencer.”
“Send him back.”
Two minutes later, Jerry Philips was shown into Delilah’s office. He looked embarrassed and could not meet the DA’s eye.
“Where is she, Mr. Philips?” Delilah demanded. Jerry noticed that she was not calling him by his first name as she usually did.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Listen, Jerry,” the homicide detective said, “Ashley is a material witness in a murder investigation and she’s in great danger…”
“You don’t understand,” Philips interrupted. “I can’t tell you because I don’t know. Believe me, I tried to find out, but she wouldn’t tell me where she was going.”
“Then why are you here?” Delilah asked.
“Ashley instructed me to come. She didn’t want you to worry that Maxfield had her. She wanted you to know that she’s safe.”
“Did you help her get away?”
Jerry looked down at his shoes. “My conversations with Ashley are covered by the attorney-client privilege. I can’t tell you what we talked about.”
Larry Birch had rarely seen Delilah angry, but she was angry now. She levered her two-hundred-fifty-plus-pound bulk up from her chair and stared at Ashley’s lawyer. He avoided her eyes.
“We are talking about a frightened young girl, Mr. Philips. She is a child and she has no business being out in the world on her own.”
“I really can’t tell you,” Jerry mumbled. “You know I’m forbidden by law to reveal client confidences.”
“Don’t you care about her?” Delilah asked.
Philips looked miserable. “Of course I do. Don’t you think I tried to talk her out of this? But she’s terrified.” He gathered his courage and looked first at the DA then at the detective. “And you couldn’t protect her.” Now it was Birch and Delilah’s turn to look uncomfortable. “That’s why she ran. She doesn’t think you can stop Maxfield. She’s convinced that he will kill her if she stays in Oregon.”
Delilah sat down. “Do you know how to get in touch with her?”
“I can’t discuss that.”
Delilah started to get angry again but she checked herself.
“If she does contact you, will you ask her to call me or write me? We need to get her back, Jerry. She may think she can hide, but Maxfield will find her if he wants to.”
Ashley looked out the window of the plane and felt as if she was floating among the clouds that surrounded her. She was free for the first time since the night Maxfield invaded her home. The feeling was exhilarating and left her giddy with relief. Each mile the plane traveled put another mile between her and her former life. Her fear was fading and hope was building. Before her stretched a future filled with adventure and exotic sights, sounds, and experiences, a future free of terror and despair.
Jerry Philips had tried to get her to change her mind from the moment he met her on the service road that led to the boathouse until he dropped her off at the airport. He hadn’t given up until he’d handed her the dufflebag full of clothes and toiletries she’d told him to buy, and five thousand dollars. Ashley’s plane ticket was electronic, and she already had her passport.
Ashley’s plane would land in Frankfurt, Germany. Then she would take a train to a destination she would decide on in the airport lounge. By operating with spur-of-the-moment choices she hoped to avoid leaving a trail based on her past. She had no favorite places anyway. Everywhere she went would be new and exciting. And every place she went would be free of Joshua Maxfield.
Book Tour
Miles Van Meter closed the copy of Sleeping Beauty from which he had been reading. While the audience applauded, he drank from the bottle of water that Jill Lane had left on the podium.
“Joshua Maxfield’s home invasion devastated Ashley,” Miles said when the applause died down, “but the loss of her mother, several months later, was a killing blow. Then Maxfield made his spectacular escape from the courtroom and returned to the Oregon Academy that very night to try to murder Ashley.
“The authorities claimed that they would protect Ashley, but she had no faith in them after Maxfield’s near miss at the Academy. She fled to Europe and stayed there until the totally unforeseen events that compelled her return to Oregon.
“In the years between his escape and recapture, Joshua Maxfield went underground. The best efforts of the FBI and international police organizations were of no avail. When interest in the manhunt began to wane, I wrote Sleeping Beauty to keep my sister’s plight and the memory of her killer in the public eye. I had no idea how successful my tribute to Casey would be.
“Meanwhile, Ashley was living under assumed names and leading the life of a vagabond; staying for short periods in small towns throughout Europe, working odd jobs when she could get them, and drawing money from her account when she had to. But, of course, I didn’t know that when I wrote Sleeping Beauty, and the original book ended with Maxfield’s escape, Ashley’s disappearance, and a brief account of the efforts of the authorities to track one of history’s most diabolical serial killers.
“And now I’d be pleased to answer your questions.”
In the back of the room, a well-built young man dressed in khaki pants and a plaid shirt raised his hand. Miles pointed at him.
“I’m thinking of writing a true-crime book about a real murder case that my cousin was involved in, but I don’t know how to get started. There were some things in the case that happened in other states. Can you tell me how you did your research on the other murders that Maxfield committed around the country?”
“Sure. Researching Sleeping Beauty wasn’t that different from preparing a case for trial. When I’m litigating, I have to interview witnesses, read documents, and learn all of the facts in the case. I approached my book as if I was preparing for Maxfield’s trial.
“By the time I started writing Sleeping Beauty, the FBI had already done a pretty good job of matching up the fictional murders in Maxfield’s novel with real crimes in Connecticut, Montana, and other states. Larry Birch and Delilah Wallace were very helpful. They gave me access to the reports of the Oregon police and the FBI. I also read stories about these crimes in local newspapers. After that it was simply a question of contacting the person in charge of each case in each state. Detective Birch called these people to vouch for me. That helped me get my foot in the door.
“When I traveled to a state, I would contact the detective in charge, read the reports, then interview witnesses. I also visited the crime scenes and read autopsy reports and viewed the crime scene photographs. Some jurisdictions videotaped the crime scene, which really helped me write accurately about what went on.”
“Weren’t you working as a lawyer during all this?” an older man in a sweatshirt and jeans asked.
“Yes, but my firm was very supportive. On the few occasions I needed it, they gave me time off for my investigation. But I was fortunate, because a few of Maxfield’s crimes were committed in cities like Boston, where I traveled frequently on business.”
A young man wearing jeans and a T-shirt from a local college raised his hand.
“Mr. Van Meter, I just finished reading Sleeping Beauty. I thought it was great. One thing bothered me, though. Everyone always assumed that Joshua Maxfield murdered Ashley’s parents, but in light of what happened when Ashley returned to Portland I wonder if Randy Coleman was ever a suspect. Ashley never saw the face of the man who killed her father and tried to kill her after Maxfield escaped. Coleman fit the description of the man who invaded her home and hunted her at the Academy.”