Missing and Endangered (Joanna Brady #19)(67)
Gerard Paine had often heard the saying that “justice delayed is justice denied,” and he felt the same should hold true for revenge. He wanted his to be swift and totally devoid of mercy.
Chapter 29
The first inkling Beth had that she was not alone was when the icy-wet nose of a panting dog hit her square on the face and jarred her awake. When she fled Conover Hall, she’d run off across campus with no sense of direction—of where she was going or why. Like a wounded animal, she had simply wanted to hide herself away, somewhere out of sight where no one could find her. When she’d seen a delivery truck backed up to a loading dock next to the North Heating and Cooling Plant with no one around and with a door gaping open behind it, she’d darted into that.
No people had been visible as she threaded her way past the mountains of rumbling machinery that struggled to supply steam heat to winterbound classrooms and office buildings. She made it as far as the back of the building. There, in an isolated corner, she found a worn cushion from a poolside chaise, probably stowed in that spot so someone working the long, lonely night-shift hours could grab an impromptu nap shielded from a supervisor’s watchful eyes.
Not surprisingly, the heating plant was warm enough. Beth had stripped off her jacket and used that as a pillow while she lay there contemplating the wreckage of her young life. Ron had stripped everything from her, not only her clothing but everything else, too—her pride, her future, her education. There was no way she could go back to class and face her professors or her fellow students. She’d been shamed beyond redemption. And now, for the first time, she wondered if maybe her mother had been right after all when she’d insisted that access to cell phones was the source of all evil.
In the course of the late afternoon, Beth had heard people coming and going—talking, laughing, chatting, joking—in the unconcerned way workers do when they believe they have a job site all to themselves. She worried that someone might venture to the back of the enormous plant and find her, but no one did. At some point in the evening, the lights had mostly switched off.
Beth had no food or water with her, but she was neither hungry nor thirsty. In her despair she’d been wondering how long it would take to starve to death when she’d fallen asleep. She was fully awake now, and the powerful beam of a flashlight briefly blinded her.
“Back, Hooch,” a male voice ordered, evidently speaking to the dog. And then, in a more concerned tone, he added, “Ma’am, ma’am. Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
I’m hurt, Beth thought, but not in the way you think.
“I’m okay,” she mumbled aloud.
Nonetheless an EMT showed up and checked her vitals. While he did his examination, several uniformed officers milled in the background. They’d all come looking for her as part of an organized search party, but Beth couldn’t help wondering how many of them had seen the photos. How many of them had seen her naked?
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“I believe your roommate is the one who called it in,” someone replied. “She was worried about you and went looking for your phone.”
Someone handed Beth a bottle of water and a granola bar. She still wasn’t hungry, but the water tasted good. Eventually someone helped her to her feet and then walked along beside her, holding her arm as if she were ill. It turns out she wasn’t ill so much as she was sick at heart. As they led her through the massive building, Beth’s soul recoiled at the idea that there might be reporters waiting outside, to say nothing of television cameras. Once her image was posted on a news broadcast somewhere, how long would it take for someone to search the Internet and locate all those other images as well?
She hesitated, wanting to turn back, just as a woman wearing an FBI Windbreaker walked up to meet them. Introducing herself as Special Agent Adele Norris, she handed Beth a small blanket.
“You might want to put this over your head while we escort you out to my vehicle,” she said.
“Reporters?” Beth asked.
Agent Norris nodded. “Lots of them,” she said. “It turns out you’re big news around here at the moment. But don’t worry, Ms. Rankin, you’re a victim, most likely a targeted victim. Your name has not been released to the media, and it won’t be—at least not by law enforcement.”
That was the first time Beth had even considered that she was the victim of anything. She had excoriated herself for being stupid, but she hadn’t focused on the fact that Ron had specifically targeted her.
“Ron and I had a fight,” she said.
“That would be Ronald Cameron?” Agent Norris asked.
Beth nodded.
“The FBI has already done a computerized search for Mr. Cameron. As far as we’re able to determine, he doesn’t exist.”
Beth was offended. “You think I made him up?”
“No, Ms. Rankin,” Agent Norris said. “We believe that the person or persons who did this to you made him up, and I’m hoping that by examining your electronic devices and by interviewing you we’ll be able to find a trail that leads back to those responsible.”
Beth spent the next three hours in a conference room at the Northern Arizona University Police Department, where Agent Norris, with the help of the department’s female commander, LuAnn Maxfield, conducted an extensive interview. Beth, grateful that her interrogators were both women, answered their probing questions to the best of her ability. How had she and Ron first connected? What, if anything, had he told her about himself? To avoid their having to obtain search warrants, Beth offered them full access to the information available on both her laptop and her cell phone. An hour passed and then two. By hour three Beth’s head was swimming. It seemed as though the questions were going around in circles and not getting anywhere.