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“Any news?” Sean asked.
“No,” Kate said at the same time Noah said, “Yes.”
Sean closed the door. “What?”
“The Delaware Field Office said the Wilmington house is vacant, but Miller has been paying the mortgage on it. We’re getting a search warrant—he may have records in the basement or attic. According to the neighbors, he’s been by the house a few times since his release from prison. But the place had been vandalized, and he’d become persona non grata after his trial.”
“If he’s been paying the mortgage, that means he has a bank account somewhere.”
“Bingo. We’ll have all his banking records first thing in the morning.”
“Morning? That may be too late!” Sean couldn’t wait until the banks opened to trace Miller. But to hack into a major financial institution couldn’t be done quickly, and it definitely wouldn’t be legal. He had no doubt he could get in, but without actual routing numbers and account numbers tied to Miller, he wouldn’t know where to go in the system.
Noah said, “I got the information about his parents and we’re tracking down the mother now. She took her maiden name after the divorce, according to the University of Richmond office.”
“You talked to his college?”
“We have emergency contacts with all the major institutions, and as soon as you forwarded the data, we called. Records are all computerized, and the dean was able to pull up Miller’s file. His father was living in Wilmington, his mother was listed as Christina Lyons. No address, no contact.”
Dillon spoke up. “Were there any disciplinary records on Miller?”
“No. He was a top student. He was married his senior year. He changed his emergency forms to next-of-kin contact Rosemarie Miller. Her maiden name is Nylander. Abigail is trying to find her now.”
“Are they still married?” Kate asked.
“Rosemarie filed for divorce in 1998. They’d been married for six years. Miller refused to sign the papers, and the court intervened and severed the marriage.”
“That could have set him off,” Hans said. “Model student, no criminal record, his mother leaves, his wife leaves. He targets high school girls who are easy to control. He’s in a position of authority over them.”
“Did you read his file?” Noah asked Hans.
“I’m in the dark here,” Sean said. “He was in prison for statutory rape, that’s all I know.”
“He was convicted of statutory rape of two students,” Noah explained. “But there were others who recanted their statements.”
Hans said, “He convinced the girls that they were worthless, that the only value they had was what he gave them. They didn’t want to turn on him, a version of the Stockholm syndrome. Unfortunately, all the names of his victims are redacted. Without an extremely compelling argument and court order, we can’t talk to them.”
“Would talking to them help?” Sean asked. “All this was a decade ago, right?”
“It might help,” Hans said. “But no guarantees, and the privacy of rape victims—especially minors—will win out ninety-nine percent of the time.”
“So what now?” Sean said, exasperated. “We sit around and wait? I need to do something.”
“Good.” Noah shoved a disk at him. “You’re supposed to be a computer genius. That’s all the property records in the tri-state area. Let’s see what you can find. I’m going to track down the mother. She might know where he is.”
Sean took the disk to his office. Dillon followed him upstairs, his face pale but his expression determined. “I’m sorry, Dillon,” Sean said, shoving the disk into his computer. “I should never have left her at the church.”
“We all thought Mallory was behind the roses and Cody’s murder,” Dillon said. “We’re going to find her. Kate and I found her once; we’ll find her again.”
Sean held onto that hope as he wrote a program to parse the data Noah had given him.
The female sleeps.
I injected her with an antidote to counteract the more serious effects of the sedative. The female had experienced shortness of breath during the final minutes of the drive, and that worried me. Now she seems to be resting normally, perhaps sleeping deeper than she should because of the sedative.
The broken one watches from her corner with wide eyes as I cut the duct tape from the female’s ankles and wrists. I handcuff one wrist to a bar of the cage. It is best, I have learned over the years, to restrain them at the beginning. It contributes to the system of rewards and punishment.
Females are weak and malleable. It doesn’t take long for them to break and become compliant. Keeping their food to a minimum and restricting movement helps. But sometimes, on the first night, the combination of drugs and injuries results in death. I wonder if this female will survive until morning?
