"Another missing person,"
The hoarse voice forced Julian to rip his gaze from the glass of water in his hand to the phone in the speaker trapped in Detective Jones's ear.
The numbers were running out.
Detective Jones never bore expressive features, if this news got him off balance as it did Julian he didn't show.
"Christine Rhode, twenty-one years old, last seen at the bar, eleven forty-five p.m. last night." Boomed the voice from the other end of the call.
Julian studied Detective Jones and in his opinion, he looked unfazed, the scorn at the edges of his eyes suggested he was brewing the same thoughts he had.
"Her dorm roommate called to report this missing person just a few minutes ago."
"She could be with a lover." Detective Jones shrugged negligibly, inscrutable tone dismissed the case.
Christine could be anywhere that could flag this alarm as false before twenty-four hours. Until then, he trained his mind on why they were gathered in Simon Bale's den that noon.
If the girl truly was missing, twenty-four hours was quite a long time to wait.
Julian tapped on his recorder and gulped the water before him to calm his nerves before he dug into what was important when Detective Jones got off the phone.
"Tell me a bit about your childhood."
Just like everyone else in the room, he was vaguely taken aback when he chose to go that deep. He felt that maybe if he knew a little bit about this man, then this could help him with his theory—these kids had something in common. Something this faceless man had studied over the years and had found the right time to execute his plans.
"I've always wanted to live by the sea," Simon started, lost in his mind, a faint smile twitched on his lips, "My father, Steve, was a painter, canvases, oil paints. Muse, emotions you name it,"
He paused and a glint of sadness washed through his eyes. Whatever he summed up in his mind was going to be a terribly hard one. Julian could tell with how hard he swallowed, fisted palm, and dark gaze. Or was it fury?
Did the anger inside of him burn from how unfairly his childhood was stripped from him? Was there a darker side to things?
"Steve was a stale ham sandwich of a human, deceptive misdemeanor. A totally different person when everyone else was around."
Simon paused only to reach for the half-empty packet of cigarettes, took a stick out, clipped it between his lips, and lit it.
"When the news of the first missing person spread across," a bitter smile lit on his lips as he tabbed off the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray, stretched the pack Julian's way, caught him shaking his head before he continued, "I remember Steve wishing that was him."
A terrible thing to wish for. The hurt in his words, the unshared emotions in his distant gaze suggested he'd not completely healed from his past.
A difficult past was hard to heal from. He couldn't fault him.
"With a lot of his shoulders, all Steve wanted was to disappear and he never missed a beat to remind us. Took it all out on everyone." He took a long drag from his stick, sent out a ringlet of smoke, and shrugged, "It was a long time ago."
"Your brothers..."
"What about them?" Simon's face hardened dangerously, "You're here to catch this guy right?"
"It's been twenty years Simon, you still carry this baggage..."
"I know y'all want to help but, this can't be cracked. There's no point in trying to fix what can't be fixed."
Simon sounded so sure but the confidence emanating from Detective Jones seemed to fuel Julian's faith.
"If need be, we'll retrace your steps, you're going to look through our suspects to see if you can place a face. For now, all we need from you is to know what exactly happened that night."
The middle-aged detective sounded quite professional. His words seemed to douse the fury in Simon's eyes, his tensed muscles relaxed perceptibly in his seat.
Silence filled the den but lasted a beat.
"Look," Simon sucked in an audible breath, tossed the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray, and reached for another stick, "I'm willing to help with whatever information but I can't guarantee anything."
What a major relief.
"It's not going to happen in a day. We want to keep track of this journey and guide you into complete freedom."
A part of Julian wished he'd gotten in on this journey earlier. Be it a therapy session or an interrogatory session with a detective, he wanted to be present enough to pick up on lines, and pounder to find hidden messages.
He didn't expect it to happen in a day or two. From a physical standpoint, Simon wasn't ready yet to dig deep but whatever he had going on with his therapists actually was working.
Detective Jones chose not to hasten things. One step at a time but there was no time. This maniac was still out there.
Christine Rhode grazed his mind. She was still out there, untraceable. The faster Simon mentally recovered enough to walk through his past the better it was going to be for everyone in Willow Creek. And what's worse, this entire process couldn't be rushed lest a mistake was made and the entire town paid for it.
Seated in the front seat of Detective Jones' minivan, Julian grew unsure if to share his concerns about the note he received the previous day from D.O.D or to keep his mouth shut.
He weighed out the pros and cons, he could be struck out of this case. If Detective Jones realized he was already on this psycho's blacklist, he would choose safety.
He couldn't afford to sit this one out, he'd come a long way to have just a mere threat deprive him of this life-changing opportunity to weed out the wolf in the herds of Sheep.
It wasn't until the car turned onto the graveled path did Julian's gaze darted out of the window to realize Detective Jones cared more about the news of this missing girl than he'd made him believe.
There was a soft heart underneath this hardened exterior. Julian understood this.