We step into the hall to give them some privacy. He looks at me, waiting to hear what I've learned. "What did you find?"
"Name's Ryan King. Calls himself Diamond Boy. We have an address, and an undercover is heading there now to see if we can pick him up."
"So we wait?" he asks.
"We wait." I walk to my desk as Jackson sits in front of his computer to see what else he can find on Ryan King. Nothing pops up that I haven't already seen. Normal blue-collar family, the kid's got a couple of misdemeanors, but as a minor, they'll be sealed as soon as he turns eighteen, which is in three days.
The phone on my desk rings, and I pick it up. Chris lets me know that they got him. Hanging up the phone, I smile at Jackson, feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline when a case starts coming together. "We got him."
Jackson nods at me and begins getting ready for when they bring in Ryan King. It takes about twenty minutes to bring him in and install him in a room on the other side of the building so Maya won't see him.
When Jackson looks over at me, I'm practically bouncing on the balls of my feet like a boxer getting ready to enter the ring. This kid is going to lead me to Lori, I just know it.
"I think it's safe to say I'm going to be the one doing the talking. You should sit back and listen. Yeah?" Jackson tells me, opening the door, and coming face to face with our first real lead in these cases.
He sits there in baggy sweats, tight T-shirt, and one of those stupid flat-billed baseball hats with diamond logos all around it. He looks like the punk that he is.
"Hey, Ryan, thanks for coming in." Jackson will start easy with him.
"Well, I didn't really have a choice since they cuffed me, put me in a car, and brought me here." Jackson sits back in his chair and throws the pen on the table. It's the first sign that this kid is pushing him to his limits and we've only been in here for five seconds.
"All right then, let's cut the bullshit. Where were you yesterday afternoon?"
"Out and about," he answers with a smirk.
"You go to the mall yesterday?" His voice is calm and I wait for him to dig his own hole.
"Yesterday? I don't really know. Maybe I should check my calendar." Such a wise-ass. I can feel my blood pressure ticking up.
"No need to check your calendar. You see, we have video." It's a stretch. We haven't seen the video yet, and we have no idea what's on it, but Ryan's expression immediately changes.
His smirk gone, the vein in his neck starting to pulse faster.
"What video?" His face pales as he asks the question.
"Come on, Ryan, smart guy like you? You have to know there are cameras all over that mall. It's all going to be there, my man."
He swallows, his leg starting to bounce. "I was told they weren't working," he mutters.
We fucking got him.
"Who told you that? Dude, you got played. It's all there. Gotta say"-he shakes his head at him-"you had us going there for a bit, but it was only a matter of time."
"I didn't do anything." He pushes himself forward, placing his hands on the table.
"See, Ryan, that's where you're wrong," he tells him and when he doesn't say anything further, he continues. "I gave you a chance to tell us your side of the story, but you think you're smarter than us." He leans back into his chair while I lean against the wall with one foot folded over the other.
"I did nothing wrong." He looks at both of us, trying to convince us.
"That isn't what the video shows. You know it." Jackson points to me. "We know it."
"Listen, I don't know what you have, but I did nothing wrong."
"You baited them." Short and sweet. "The video shows you even slipped them something."
"That's bullshit! I didn't give them shit till after we left!" And just like that, he buried himself. He knows it now just like I know it.
"Really? Then it's my mistake. You drugged them after you left, took them to wherever it is you took them, and now you are going to go down for drug possession, kidnapping, assaulting, and I gotta be honest with you, Ryan, no one in jail likes someone who drugs helpless women. Let alone sex offenders. They get the worst treatment in jail."
"I didn't kidnap anyone. They came with me willingly."
"Where are they then?" Jackson asks him. "Give me a location."
"I...I..."
This is when Jackson snaps. "You what? Did you kill them?" He raises his voice.
He just shakes his head no.
"You drugged them, lured them out, raped them, and then killed them." His voice gets louder. "Then you disposed of their bodies. Where are they?" He slams his hand on the table, making him jump. "Pretty boy like you in prison, going to be rough keeping the boys at bay. Tell me what you did with them. TELL ME!"
"I get paid to find the girls and drop them off. That's it!"
"Who pays you?"
"No clue. Calls himself Chucky, like the Chucky doll. I bring them to him. He pays me ten grand per girl."
"How many?" Jackson asks him, and I hope to fuck he doesn't clam up now.
"Three so far." He looks at us. "I wanted to stop, but he wouldn't let me. He kept calling, said he'd dump them off at the cops and all they'd have was my name."
"Where did you drop them off?"
"Some cheap motel off the interstate. I walked them in pretending we were going to a party, and then once we were inside, I just left. He had his guy waiting for them there."
"So you brought those three innocent girls to the devil's doorstep."
"I did nothing wrong."
That's the final straw before I fucking snap. "You lured three young girls away from their families through the use of an illegal substance. You then brought them to someone who rapes and probably beats them, while you walked away with thirty grand. And you think you didn't do anything wrong here, Ryan? If any of those girls are dead, you will be charged with accessory to murder."
I lean over the table, looking him in the eye, and say, "And you better fucking believe I'll be the one to put you in there. I'll lead you in there like you led them in there. How is that?" I have to reel in my anger before I reach over this table and grab this punk by his neck.
He doesn't get to answer before Jackson's cell phone rings.
Getting up, he answers the phone. "Hello?" I don't hear who is on the other end but by the look on his face, I know it's not good news. I don't even have time to ask what is going on before he storms out of the interrogation room, heading for his keys.
"Mick," he yells for me, and I'm out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me.
"Silent alarm was just triggered at Bella's. Someone is on the scene, but I'm waiting for an update from Brian." He puts him on speakerphone so I can hear.
"Jackson, where are you?" His voice is tight. It's curt and angry.
"Give it to me."
"They have an ambulance going there now. Brenda has been beaten pretty badly. Lilah was the one who ran and hit the alarm."
"Where the fuck is Bella?"
"Jackson." He exhales a deep breath. "She's nowhere to be found." And just like that, his phone flies across the room, his knees buckle, and he almost falls down.
"We will fucking get her back." I grab him by the shirt, shaking him, trying to get him out of the haze that he is in. "You need to snap the fuck out of it and help me find your woman. You need to lock your shit down and fucking focus here, Jackson."
We both know who took her. Now we just have to find him before Jackson kills him himself.
I do the driving, and we make it to his house in record time. By the time we get there, two cop cars, their lights still flashing, are already parked at the curb along with an ambulance.
I run inside right behind Jackson, taking in the sight before me. It's like a scene out of a fucking horror movie. The EMTs are working on Brenda, their neighbor, who is lying lifelessly in a puddle of her own blood.
I scan the room, looking for anything that seems to be out of place, a broken window, busted door, something, but nothing seems to be out of place. I see no signs of a struggle. I continue scanning the room, stopping when I notice that Lilah has seen that Jackson arrived. She immediately jumps off the police officer's lap and runs right to Jackson, crying.
He scoops her into his arms, holding her close as she wails out her terror. "Ackson, they take Momma," she says between sobs.
"Who, baby girl, who took Momma?" he asks her. "Who?" This little girl has woven herself into his heart, and there is nothing he wouldn't do for her. I haven't even met Lori yet, and I feel the same way about her. I pull up my phone, texting more security detail to come and watch the house again. Jackson doesn't even have to ask. I just know since it's what I would do.
She hiccups, her sobs, her breath coming out in choppy pants. "Daddy and his briend."
Brian arrives and comes straight to us. "So, he came in the side gate from what we could tell by the sensor times." He looks at his phone. "Front door sensor indicates it was disengaged and reengaged twenty minutes ago. The silent alarm was activated about twenty seconds later."