“Would Amanda have any reason to go to Mount St. Helens?” she asked.
“St. Helens? Good God, no.” Brenda leaned over Olivia’s shoulder. “Oh my God. She’s scared to death of volcanoes. She wasn’t born when St. Helens erupted, but we all talk about it. She said when God gets mad he’ll make the mountain blow up.” She jumped up. “That’s over a hundred miles away! My poor baby.” Brenda ran down the stairs, calling for her husband.
Olivia printed the map Amanda had with her and tried to think like a six-year-old.
Interstate 5, which led to Mount St. Helens, was two miles from the Davidsons’ suburban house, but there was no way little Amanda could get her bicycle on the freeway and ride undetected. The highway patrol would certainly have spotted the child by now. Even if she were as determined as she seemed, the freeway would be too frightening. No, Amanda would stick with side streets as much as she could.
Olivia focused on the map and picked the straightest route that stayed away from the freeway. Okay, six years old on a bike. She’d start off riding fast, but she’d get tired and slow down. Maybe she’d average two miles an hour? That would put her just north of Kent.
“Olivia?” Zack ran up the stairs and looked over her shoulder. “The mom says she’s going to Mount St. Helens. What’s going on?”
Olivia filled him in on what she’d learned as they went back downstairs. “I think she’s about here by now,” she pointed to the area around Kent.
Zack nodded. “Let’s go.”
“I’m going with you,” Brenda said.
“You should stay here in case she calls,” Zack told her.
Mr. Davidson shook his head. “No, I’ll stay. Go, Brenda. Bring Amanda home.”
Amanda sat under the big tree and cried. Her legs hurt and she’d eaten all the food she’d brought and was still hungry. Somewhere, maybe when she stopped in the field and peed, she’d lost Bessie. The sun was hot, but she didn’t dare take off her jacket because she’d forgotten sunscreen and she burned easily.
She was going to disappoint her mommy. She’d never make it to the volcano to get Michelle back. It seemed so much closer on the computer, but she couldn’t even see the mountain yet. She’d never be able to make things right and have her mommy love her again. But she couldn’t go home.
Maybe her mommy wouldn’t notice she’d left. Maybe she’d still be crying and Amanda could sneak back in tonight.
Her breath hitched in her chest as she wiped her tears. She’d go home and hide in the garage until everyone went to bed and then she’d go inside. No one would miss her.
“Amanda!”
She looked up. Mommy? “Mommy!” She jumped up and ran as fast as her tired legs could take her. “Mommy!”
“Oh, baby.” Her mother scooped her into her arms and hugged her so tight she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t say anything because she’d never felt so good in her life. She cried uncontrollably.
“Mommy, I tried to get Michelle back, I tried, but Heaven’s too far away and I can’t find it.” Her mother’s tears mingled with her own. “You’re still crying, Mommy. I’m sorry.”
“No, baby, no. I’m crying because I’m so happy.”
“But-”
“I love you. I love you so much. You scared me, Amanda. I didn’t know where you were, I didn’t know why you’d gone.”
“I didn’t think you’d notice if I left.”
Her mother’s body stiffened. Then she sat on the ground and pulled Amanda into her lap and kissed her all over. “Baby, I love you. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“You miss Michelle.”
“Yes. Yes, I miss Michelle.”
“I miss her too.”
“I know you do.” Brenda hugged her daughter tight to her chest, running her hand up and down her back, wishing she could take away the pain and sadness that had filled their lives since Michelle died.
She’d never forget Michelle. Michelle had a private space in her heart. But more important, she’d never neglect the rest of her family again.
They needed her. And what she hadn’t realized until now was that she needed them.
CHAPTER 16
Zack and Olivia didn’t talk much on the ride back from the Davidsons’. By the time they’d brought Amanda and Brenda back to the house, it was after noon. They went to the station, where the sketch artist shared her work, but it was too vague for the news media to use. The man could have been anyone, and the artist wasn’t confident that Sean had remembered enough detail.
The only thing Sean described well was the tattoo. When Olivia saw the sketch, she knew without a doubt that it was the same tattoo as on the man who killed Missy.
Brian Harrison Hall had the identical tattoo on his arm.
“The man in California who was just released had a tattoo just like that,” Olivia said. “A witness identified him by his tattoo.”
Zack looked at his copy of the sketch. “Blue eagle. California-” he glanced at the board. “That was thirty-four years ago. The first victim.” He paused, looked at Olivia. “We’d talked about how this killer probably doesn’t work with a partner, but what if he and this other guy-what did you say his name was? Hall?”
She nodded, not surprised that Zack remembered.
He tapped the tattoo sketch. “Okay, let’s think this through. Let’s assume that Hall was innocent-and I’m betting he was. If he suspected our guy, he would have said something about it, agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“So Hall is innocent, but it’s too damn coincidental that two men of about the same age and build, with the same tattoo, in the same town, with access to the same truck didn’t know each other.”
“You mean they might have known each other even if Hall had nothing to do with the murder?” It clicked. It made sense.
“Exactly.” Zack stood, paced. “Let’s say, because of the tattoo, that they served in Vietnam together. Hall got out when?” He grabbed a file and started flipping through it.
“April 10, 1972,” Olivia said, taking the file from him. She didn’t want Zack to see all the details in the file. She’d only written the victims’ first names on the white board.
If he delved too deep, he’d see that the first victim shared the same last name as her.
Zack looked at her in awe. “Good memory.”
She didn’t comment. She’d memorized Missy’s case file.
“I’d bet our killer served with Hall in Vietnam. Maybe they were released about the same time. Maybe there was bad blood between them.”
“Are you suggesting that our killer set Hall up? Framed him?”
“Anything’s possible at this point. But I think we have to go with the assumption that they knew each other, and that gives us something to go on.” He picked up the phone and dialed an extension. “It’s not going to be easy to get military records, but I think your people can probably get them faster.”
Into the phone, Zack said, “Chief? Travis here. Look, I think we need to contact the Seattle bureau. I meant to call you this morning, but with looking for Amanda Davidson… yeah, right… Two things. First, Agent St. Martin and I have a theory that our killer served in Vietnam and was discharged around April 1972-say between the end of 1971 and October 1972. Second, remember the marks on the victim’s forearms? Doug Cohn talked to several labs last night and the same marks appear on their victims. Twelve punctures. We need some expert guidance to help figure out what they could mean.”
Zack listened for a moment, then said, “Okay, you call and set it up, then have them contact me and Agent St. Martin and I’ll debrief them on what we’ve uncovered so far.” He hung up.
“You know,” he said, “after the chief puts in the request with Seattle, you should probably work as the liaison with your people. I don’t have a problem with it. I’ve met a lot of Feds who jerked this department around, but you’ve been fantastic. I wouldn’t have had half this stuff if you hadn’t brought it in.”