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Sean went downstairs and made coffee. He was surprised to find Hans Vigo asleep on his couch. The table was littered with files and papers.
They’d been running property searches, talking to the prison warden where Miller had been incarcerated, analyzing the WCF files on Miller—not just here, but everyone at RCK West was working on it, too. They’d had more than a dozen people—smart people—working almost nonstop since seven last night and now, twelve hours later, they still didn’t know where Lucy was.
Sean sat at the table and looked over Hans’s notes. His prison files—Miller was too perfect, a model prisoner. Polite, even-tempered. During his trial, he had been well-mannered and courteous.
Hans had written across a legal tablet in block letters:
Victims were seduced. All virgins between 14 and 16.
Fear of sex—stemming from an obsession with cleanliness, i.e. only has sex with virgins/“clean” girls.
Required victims to address him as “Teacher.”
Taught girls to be submissive. Used reward and punishment system. Competitive—girls wanted to earn rewards for being the most “obedient.”
Became physically violent with one victim. Bruised her—she hid the bruise. Why her and not the others? What made her different?
At trial—refused female lawyer. Called her “unfair.”
From staff interviews at school—Miller was “chauvinist,” “sexist,” “egotistical.” One female teacher said, “Peter once called me ‘female’—like it was my name. I steered clear of him. Some of the staff thought he was just a nerd, but I didn’t like how he looked at me.”
Sean wished he hadn’t read any of it because now he couldn’t rid his mind of Lucy’s face, beaten and bruised. He bit back a cry of frustration.
What was he missing? He should have been able to find this one guy—what good was he if he couldn’t find one man? They knew his name. His parents. His schooling. Noah said they’d have something by morning. Well, it was morning now—7:11 according to the digital clock on the microwave.
Sean picked up a flagged page of the trial transcripts. Hans had underlined key words and phrases.
PROSECUTOR: How long were you sexually involved with the defendant?
JANE DOE TWO: Four months.
PROSECUTOR: Did he force you to have sex?
JANE DOE TWO: I don’t know.
PROSECUTOR: You don’t know? Did he hurt you?
JANE DOE TWO: Yes and no. I didn’t tell him no, if that’s what you mean.
PROSECUTOR: Did you believe that it was wrong to have sex with your teacher?
JANE DOE TWO: Yes—but I was chosen. That’s what he said. I was chosen to be a perfect woman. At first I liked the idea of being what a man wants. My parents are divorced and fight all the time, and I hated it. Teacher made me feel like I could be different, that if I learned how to be perfect, I’d make my husband happy. I wanted that.
PROSECUTOR: Did you always want that? After your sexual relationship began?
JANE DOE TWO: No. I got wrapped up in the idea that I could be special. Then after the first time, he humiliated me. I couldn’t talk until he told me I could speak. He didn’t hit me—but I thought he would, so I did everything he said. I just wanted to get it over with.
PROSECUTOR: Why didn’t you come forward sooner? Why wait four months before telling your mother?
JANE DOE TWO: He told me I was trainable, like a dog. I was scared and didn’t know what to do, but told him one day after school that I wouldn’t go to his house anymore. The next morning my dog was dead. The vet said Sunny ate something poisonous, but I knew Teacher had done it. That’s why I came forward. If he could kill my dog, he could kill me. I don’t want to die.
Hans sat up on the couch. “Sean, maybe you shouldn’t read that.”
“I’m fine,” he snapped. He wasn’t fine. “Miller is a nut job. How could they let him out of prison?”
Hans didn’t respond. He stood and walked over and put his hand on Sean’s shoulder. “We’ll find her.”
“Dammit!” Sean bit back his anger. His fear wasn’t going to find Lucy.
