Gone After the Wind

45

Chapter Forty-five

OF ALL the four students stated on the list, the name Mitchell Bryers stood out among them. Not only because he committed a felony just a year ago but he was the exact owner of the black car and the same blonde young man who smoked a cigarette in front of Cara's house only few hours ago. He lived just five blocks away from Rackenhurst and if Cara would consult the informative list, she suspected that Alex might be there. She had contacted the parents of the remaining three but only two had responded to her call, stating that their son weren't home as of this time.

And so before Cara could pass that part of the town, she skipped the unfamiliar streets and sped up in that particular neighborhood. Her cellphone rang boisterously on the dashboard in the middle of her drive. It was Eric and she felt a bit delighted to receive a call from him, despite the devastating news she just received earlier.

"What is it?" Cara said after she answered.

"I followed your instructions so I have two good news and one bad news," Eric said, his joyful voice betrayed the last thing he said.

"Spill it."

"I presented your theory with Alman and he was just amazed as I am. He said it was a good one and he will support it. And so, I consulted Terry--our techguy to look into that town's database. I told him all the links that might lead us to that bastard. And voila, the name Ricky Stanford came up. He lived a few blocks away from Sandy Hupman. He was a s*x offender and hear this out, he had purchased a lot of marionette during the course of six years. It was stated at the billing records from the puppet store we've been into. He's a creep and a freaking pervert. He's our guy, Cara, I'm sure of it."

Cara heaved a deep sigh, trying to calm herself. But the more she pushed it back, she keeps sharing the excitement she had traced on Eric's voice. "What did Alman say?"

"He said we must pay the female staff a visit and confirm if it was the guy who bothered the two victims then we're good to arrest this man."

"How about Faucalt? Did he agree with this?"

"Does that matter? Even if he won't admit, this lead are much more promising than his absurd theories."

"And the bad news?" Cara probed.

Eric didn't answer right away. He heaved a deep sigh. When he spoke, Cara noticed that his voice was strained. Gone with the joyful vibe. "Candy Filimon was already found just this morning."

Cara felt like she was just punched in the gut. Her jaw clenched and her heart felt as if it was just stepped hardly. Her mouth gaped open, she couldn't process it very well. "That... fast?"

"I'm afraid so. She was found in a creek. According to the local police who handled it, the body was warm and the blood all over her was still fresh when they arrived. It looks like she was placed there just this dawn."

"He worked her overnight, then," Cara replied hoarsely, her grip on the steering wheel tightened. "He killed her right after the abduction. Was she transformed intricately?"

"No, the indications of the stitches and the other details were a bit disordered. It wasn't neat and organized like the past victims. I'd say he put up those transformations while she was alive."

Cara shut her eyes tightly. No matter how delightful it was to know that her theory turned up to something, she felt extremely useless now that she didn't save another innocent life. The downcasting feeling of failure enveloped her, all the while she pointed the primary blame to herself.

Had she not listened to Faucalt, she might have came up with that theory much earlier and Candy Filimon will still be alive today.

Another failure. How long would I be like this before I succeed on something?

"Send me those pictures. I'll get back to you once I'm done here," Cara said sharply, ending the call immediately before Eric could add something and before he could notice the trembling on her voice.

Her throat tightened and the bile inside was getting more noticeable. She felt her body slowly succumbing to the intensity of her emotions. Her knees wobbled and before she could make a mistake while driving, she instantly parked at the nearest curb, her tires screeching because of the sudden stop. The people walking around the sidewalk looked at her car, shock and a bit offended. Some even cursed and shouted. But their public peace is the least from her concerns now.

As soon as her hand let go of the steering wheel, it flew to her face and her mouth let out a loud sob. Before she could control it, her tears went down to her cheeks, uncontrollable and overflowing, and her shoulders vibrated because of the continous sob coming out from her mouth.

All the frustrations and pressuring hard emotions she had bottled up are now flowing out like some water spilling from a huge barrel that was shot by a gun. She felt suddenly tired and she didn't understand why of all the circumstances that she confronted debacles from the past, this is the first time she ever felt absolutely drained. Was it due to the high hopes and confidence that she invested during the investigation? That she would catch this guy within only a short matter of time. She ignored the possibility that she might fail. Was she wrong, then? To be that fully determined?

And her son, the only individual that she expects to stick with her had completely drifted off. Her trust was shattered and she doesn't know if she could accept his explation without getting harsh.

She wiped the tears away from her cheek and took a deep breath, trying hard to shush her emotions and stabilize the adrenaline rush in her veins. She was in deep reverie when out of a sudden, her phone blasted, interrupting her thoughts completely and pulling her back at the present. Sniffing and brushing away the tears, she took it and was about to decline whoever was calling but when she saw the name Dalton Rivers blinking from the screen, she answered it without hesitation.

She wiped the tears away from her cheek and took a deep breath, trying hard to shush her emotions and stabilize the adrenaline rush in her veins. She was in deep reverie when out of a sudden, her phone blasted, interrupting her thoughts completely and pulling her back at the present. Sniffing and brushing away the tears, she took it and was about to decline whoever was calling but when she saw the name Dalton Rivers blinking from the screen, she answered it without hesitation.

"Black," she only managed to say, keeping her voice steady and monotonous.

"Oh, hello there, Detective Black. I presume you still remember me? The guy from the charitable organization who organized the events. Am I ringing a bell?"

Cara heaved a deep sigh. "Yes, I do remember you. What do you want?"

"Well, uh, I know the last time we talked, I didn't bring much help to you. I felt guilty, you know. So I checked some of my documents to see if I could give you some details regarding your case. And I... uh, I think I found something."

"What is it?" Cara probed, her senses were alarmed.

"According to this simple paper, the time when Ms. Sandy Hupman had joined in the event, she wasn't alone, Ms. Black. Two tickets were bought here. One for her and one for her father, Senator Meredith. I had asked my staff if the Senator was actually present that time and they said yes. All of them saw him. So if there's one person who could tell you tons of information about that event, it would be her father, Ms. Black."

Cara's mouth gaped open, her jaw clenching hardly. The rage that comes from her frustration had finally awaken. She refused to acknowledge it but the thin patience she's been withholding just snapped in between. If she felt completely loss earlier, it had changed into something near regret and irritation for the Senator.

If he was just kind enough to cooperate, Cara would've solved it before the perp could take someone else. He refused to listen. Both he and Faucalt, they all leaned in towards their narcissistic perception and they must be partially blame for this.

"Is that helpful, Ms. Black?"

"Very much. Thank you, Rivers," Cara said, ending the call and tossing the phone to the backseat. Gritting her teeth, she peeled off from the curb and sped off towards the original address. Retrieving her son would be the first on the list. Meredith could wait and for the time being, he must come up with a plausible reason for lying to her. If not, she might completely forget the essence of the word before his name. And she wouldn't mind if it finally cost her job. One innocent life had been taken, all because they couldn't cooperate well.

**

THE RESIDENCE where Mitchell Bryers currently lived was a middle class one. It wasn't hard to pick up his house from the rest of it. Cara just had to find the black car with the plate numbers she injected to her memory and of course, the same booming music that she heard inside that car. She passed down several streets before she spotted such factors. It was two streets away from the main entrance, located on the farthest south. It stood among of the houses in that certain street because of its disoriented porch and untrimmed lawn. Not to mention that it was emitting the loudest noise there.

Cara parked one house away from its front, checking the whole lot to see if there's any signs of Bryer's parents. But then, no sane parent would allow such noise to come out of their house. Not to bring up the activities they might be doing inside.

Ensuring her gun on her holster, she climbed up from the car, allowing herself to study the nearby houses. All of them looked unoccupied. No one would be alarmed by her presence and the mere threat that she was about to show on those kids.

She walked slowly towards the front lawn, her boots making big and hard steps on the concrete sidewalk. The music gets louder as she approached the porch. Her mind wandered around Alex as she climbed up on the stairs and her mood just worsen as minutes goes by that she ponder on what Alex might be doing inside. Knocking hard on the door, she stepped back to wait for someone to open it. When no one answered, she banged on it instead, sending loud thuds inside. If they still didn't hear it, Cara would have to result of bringing down this annoying the door.

"Open up!" she shouted. "Bryers!"

The music was minimized after a couple of seconds. It was followed by faint approaching steps. She heard clicks on the door before it was opened by a dark haired teenage girl with thick eyeliners on. Her droopy eyes scanned Cara's whole body and Cara could hear her probing questions.

"Who are you?" she asked and Cara was fast to notice the slur on her voice. Her scent even gave off the trace of strong aroma from alcohol.

Cara's hands balled into fist. She advanced a domineering step, leering down at the teenager. "You don't have to know who I am, little lady," she said, not giving her a chance to speak. "Now, open the door before I called someone to broke your little fun here."

With blinking wide eyes, she opened the door with enough space for Cara to step inside freely. When she did, the smoke from the living room almost blinded her. As soon as her appearance became noticeable, the music stopped and the five kids sitting on the large wretched sofa looked at her with utter fear and nervousness. Probably because of the alcohol sitting on the coffee table and the cigarettes that were on their mouths when Cara came in.

The teenager girl who opened the door ran behind her, crashing herself to the blonde young man sitting on a single couch which obviously goes by the name Mitchell Bryers. He was puffing a rolled white short stick which appears to be a joint. He's the only one who looked curiously at Cara.

"Mitchell Bryers?" Cara asked. "You're the host of this party?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he answered, rosing up to his feet. "May we know why you're here?"

"I'm here for Alex. Where is he?" she asked firmly as her eyes roamed around.

"Mom?"

As if on cue, Alex came out from the narrow hallway just in between the living room and the small staircase located near the wall. If his classmates were flabbergasted, his shock was more intense. It was even laced with despair and utter fear.

"Pack up your things. We're leaving," Cara said, oppresing her anger from bursting out.

"But, Mom—"

Cara raised her forefinger. "Don't you dare argue with me. We're leaving."

Alex curled his lip, his face reddened with a mix of embarassment and anger. He ran from the hallway, picking up his jacket and bag along the way. He brushed past Cara, slamming the screen door from behind. Cara remained sitting there, scanning each of the teenage boys sitting at the sofa. Her eyes stopped at one certain boy who was wearing a hoodie and long pants. If Cara would consult her memories, it was the boy who had the most severe fear when she entered earlier. He never laid his eyes to Cara in which she found suspicious. She looked at his leg and almost involuntarily, he reached for it and covered that part.

Cara's eyebrows furrowed. Stepping forward, she tilted her head, keeping her eyes glued to his leg. "Where were you two nights ago?"

He looked up, obviously taken aback at the question. "W-What?"

"You heard me. And I don't like repeating my question," Cara said.

"I-I'm sorry, Ma'am," he apologized. "I-I was in my house, Ma'am. W-With my parents."

Cara nodded. "Make sure that it wasn't a lie. If I ever found out that you're the one who broke into my house, I won't hesitate to put cuffs on you. Do you understand?"

He nodded, trembling.

"Same goes for all of you." Cara looked at each one of them. "If you get near my son again, you're all going to with me in the station."

Murmurs of agreement followed suit. Nobody dared to object and Cara was satisfied with the fear she caused to them. She turned her back. But before she could finally leave, she threw a single punch on the same limpy boy. The force of her punch sent him to the ground, whimpering in pain. His colleagues recoiled behind the sofa, terrified of what Cara would do next. Glaring at them for the last time, she started walking towards the door, picking up a bottle of alcohol on her way. She drank all of its contents and threw it on the porch before going down the stairs.

Alex was watching her intently as she walked. When their eyes met, he immediately avoided her gaze, sinking himself on the seat so he could totally erase Cara on his vision.