Tell My Dad (19 page)

Angel nodded and read the address to the operator. A few minutes later, she pressed the end button on the phone and looked up. “She said that cops are coming in a few minutes.”

“That’s good. You will be fine.” Harrison stepped forward and put his palm on Angel’s forehead. “God bless you, child! I am going to go. The cops will take you to your mom.”

“Can you stay with me please? I don’t want to sit here with that dead man.” Her hands trembled as she pointed at Gilbert.

“That’s a good point. Let’s go outside.”

They walked briskly and opened the front door. There was total silence. Harrison pointed at a small wooden bench on the front porch. “Please sit there. The cops will come soon. I can’t answer their questions. I can’t let them see me.” He rubbed his temple as if he just remembered something. “Listen…The cops will ask you about me. Just tell them you didn’t see my face very well. Can you do that please?”

Angel nodded. “Who are you?”

He struggled for words. “I–I am a father who lost his daughter, an angel like you, to one of these monsters.” He took a deep breath. “I need to leave now.”

“Can you stay with me
please
?” she asked innocently.

“I want to, but I can’t stay here. I can’t deal with the cops right now. I will hide behind that tree.” He pointed to the cluster of redwood trees on his right. “And I’ll keep an eye on you until the cops come. Then, I will go. Okay?”

“Okay.” She nodded hesitantly and looked down at her toes. After a second, she looked up and said, “Thank you.”

Harrison smiled, waved, and walked quickly toward the woods. He hid behind a redwood tree and watched the road. A Mercedes passed by. Birds chirped. Harrison could hear only his breathing now. A minute passed. Then, he heard the sirens. He smiled and turned around to see Angel, who sat there on the bench with no emotion on her face. She placed her hands to her temples and stared directly at the trees.
She is really an angel. How she is going to live without her mother?
He felt a lump in his throat. The sirens grew louder. He moved to his left and started walking fast, real fast.

T
he lonely house
was not lonely anymore. Hayward Police officers, FBI agents, and forensic experts scattered around the house, inspecting every corner.

Gilbert had been dead for two hours now. Angel was taken to Kaiser Hospital in Hayward. Captain Kayla Mueller, an officer in the Investigations Operations of the Hayward Police Department, rubbed her temple as she fixed her gaze on the message written on Gilbert’s chest. “Stay away from little girls.”

Mueller turned to her right to catch the eyes of Theaker and Samantha. “I presume that the serial killer you are looking for did
this
as well?”

Theaker nodded. “It looks like it.”

“Do you have any leads on the killer?”

“We have a list of suspects. We are getting closer to catching the killer.”

Samantha asked, “Do we know anything about this guy?”

“We do. His name is Gilbert. He is a registered sex offender. He served six years in San Antonio for molesting his stepdaughter. He moved here last year. He ran a contracting company and did some work for PG&E,” Mueller said, referring to Pacific Gas and Electric Company. “This house belonged to his grandmother. She passed away three years ago.”

Theaker knelt down and inspected the gunshot wounds on the dead man’s knees and pelvis area. He cocked his head sideways before looking up. “We need to run ballistics. The shots are aggressive and deep. It looks like a
machine gun
. Maybe a MAC-10 or 11 or an MGP. Could be a gang.”

Mueller shook her head. “No. There was only one killer. The girl said that a Japanese ninja killed him.”

Theaker stood up. “The girl saw the killer?
Ninja
?”

Samantha turned quickly to face Mueller. “Ninja? Are you sure? He’s not a monk?”

“Well, that’s what the girl said. I think she’s going through post-traumatic stress. She’s been taken to Kaiser. Apparently, someone with a mask saved the girl and killed this guy Gilbert. The girl told me that he looked like a ninja. I’ll interview her again after she recovers from the shock.” Mueller continued, “The killer might have come here to kill Gilbert for some other reason. It could be a robbery. The entire house was ransacked when we reached here. The killer searched for something in his bedroom and here.” Mueller pointed at the wall cabinet that held a sixty-inch Panasonic Viera.

“What did he search for? Do we know?” Samantha asked.

Mueller shook her head. “Not sure. All these drawers were open when we got here.” She grabbed DVDs from the top drawer with her gloved hands. “These are all porn, in the worst possible, sickest way.”

“I think that the killer left clues for us,” Samantha said in a quiet voice.

“Well, there is more. I found all kinds of sick stuff in his bedroom. If we comb through this guy’s computer, we may be able to find the killer’s motives.”

Theaker nodded and rubbed his chin. “We’ll take care of the computer forensics... At least the girl is safe. Do the parents know?”

“The girl’s parents are divorced. The father is in Australia. We’re trying to get ahold of him. The mother was shot dead.” Mueller shook her head in sadness. Then, she pointed at Gilbert. “This guy was the new boyfriend. He killed the mother and took the girl here.”

Theaker was visibly angry. “He probably befriended the mom to reach the child. The good news is that the girl is safe and the bad guy is dead. The bad news is that there is a serial killer out there, and…we don’t know what he is up to.”

* * *

B
ob McFarlane stared
at the glass pieces scattered on the floor. Then, he looked up apologetically to the man in the wheelchair.

“Sorry, Thomas. I did not mean to rattle you. I should have knocked on the door.”

Thomas Erskine removed his Gucci eyeglasses, rubbed his eyes hard, and placed the dark plastic frames gently on the bridge of his nose. “It’s all right, Bob. I just slept for a second. When I heard your voice, I thought it was a dream.” He chuckled as he moved his motorized wheelchair in reverse.

Bob grabbed the broom from the corner and swept the glass pieces holding drops of orange juice into the dustpan. As he stepped out of the large bedroom, he said, “The lunch is ready. I will wait for you in the dining room.” Then, he left without waiting for a reply.

Thomas stared at the girl on the bed. Her eyes were closed, and her right leg was chained to the wooden frame of the bed. He adjusted his eyeglasses, maneuvered the joystick of the wheelchair to get closer to the bed. Then, he kissed the girl. “My princess!”

Tears flowed from the girl’s eyes.

He ignored the tears and steered the wheelchair out of the bedroom.

Right in front of him was the backside of a large leather couch. Brown leather love seats occupied both sides of the couch, which faced the seventy-inch LED television on the wall. A Bose sound bar was placed strategically below the television to maximize the surround-sound effect. The KRON 4 news channel showed the weather report.

The kitchen to his right looked small compared to the living room. He stopped the wheelchair closer to the mahogany dining table and took a small turn and then reversed to have a good view through the window.

The barn behind the house looked beautiful through the shiny aluminum window. He pictured his grandfather standing in the entrance of the barn and handing him the Arabian horse.
The horse
. He sighed and looked deeply sad.

“What is wrong, Thomas?” Bob asked as he spread the mustard on the bread.

“Nothing. Just thought about Grandpa.”

“He was a good man. I would have been a dead man a long time ago if not for him.” He stared at the life-size portrait hanging on the wall behind the dining chair.

Thomas gave a wry smile, grabbed the bottle on the table, and gulped the water quickly. Most of the water dripped onto his shirt through his curling lips.

Bob grabbed the towel hanging on his shoulder and gently blotted the shirt.

“Sorry, Bob! I feel terrible when I trouble you.” Thomas looked at Bob’s eyes.

“Don’t mention it! I am grateful to your family.” Bob took the sandwich plate and placed it on the edge of the table.

Thomas stared at the television screen as he munched the sandwich. The analog clock hanging near the front entrance had shown two o’clock when the afternoon news started on KRON 4.

The news anchor, an Asian woman in her late twenties, smiled at the teleprompter.

“Good afternoon. Headline news for today. The eight-year-old girl kidnapped in Fremont earlier today was found within a few hours in Hayward. Her kidnapper was killed.”

Thomas stopped eating and looked at Bob, who had already moved to the living room. He stood behind the sofa and stared at the woman on the television.

The news anchor provided more details after the teaser headline. “An eight-year-old girl kidnapped from her home this morning in Fremont was found within two hours in Hayward. The girl’s identity has not been released. Gilbert Hibbs, the alleged kidnapper, was found dead in his home when Hayward Police responded to a 911 call. The girl is safe and is being treated for trauma. A police department spokesperson told our correspondent that there will be a press conference at five o’clock this evening.”

“Gilbert Hibbs? Is he the same guy?” Thomas asked.

“Yes. He was our handler.” Bob pushed his tongue behind his upper teeth and twisted his lips. He appeared especially evil while doing so. He continued, “These bastards are good for nothing. They keep screwing up. I will take care of it from now on. I will get the girls.” He looked very determined.

M
aya McKenzie tried
to focus on the teacher as she pushed her right palm into her cheek. Mr. White raised his hand and asked, “Who can help me to subtract twenty-one from one hundred?”

The third-grade class gasped.

Sheena, sitting in the first row said, “I know how to subtract 21 from 22.” The class giggled.

“That was crazy.” Maricel, who sat next to Maya, poked her tongue into her cheek.

Maya tried to focus on Mr. White, who turned to the board to explain the subtraction magic, but caught sight of Austin in her peripheral vision. He sneaked under his desk and pulled the curly long hair of Laura, who was sitting in the front row. Laura shrieked.

The entire class looked in the direction of the scream. Laura stood up. Tears fought to come out.

“What happened?” Mr. White seemed concerned.

“Someone pulled my hair from behind.” Laura tried to control her tears to avoid embarrassment.

Mr. White walked toward the row behind Laura. He stared at three students sitting in the row. “Who did it?”

Austin posed like puppy lost in the carnival.

Maya stood up. “I saw it. It was Austin. He pulled Laura’s hair. I saw it.” She pointed at Austin.

Austin ground his teeth. “No! She is lying, Mr. White. I was just trying to subtract the numbers you gave. I did not move from my chair.” He moved his gaze to Mr. White.

“That’s good. Can you tell me what numbers I gave for subtraction?”

His mind went blank momentarily. “Hmm…forty-one from one hundred?”

The class laughed. Maya smiled a little and lowered herself into her seat.

Mr. White nodded. “You know what, Austin?” He stared at him for a few seconds. “I think we should call your parents and tell them about what you really do in this class. It’s about time.”

Austin forced a cough. “I have a bad cold. Sorry, Mr. White. I was not paying attention.”

“I thought so. I want you to go to the nurse’s office and wait there. Once you get the medicines for your cold, then you should stay in the detention room until five o’clock. Is that understood?”

Austin took his backpack, stared at Maya, and walked slowly out of the classroom.

Maya did not blink. She shrugged and looked at Mr. White, who went back to the board.

* * *

W
hen the final
bell of the day rang at two forty-five in the afternoon, Maya got ready to go home. She gathered her books and pencil pouch and shoved it into the backpack. As she pulled and strapped on the backpack, Lisa stood next to her with a broad smile.

“Hey, can you come with me to the library? I need to drop this off,” Lisa pointed at
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
.

“I like
that book
! I want to be like Charlie one day! I want to visit and stay in the chocolate factory
for the whole day
!” Maya giggled, creating a tiny dimple at the corner of her mouth. “Okay, let’s go!”

After Lisa dropped the book at the library next to the school office, both of them slowly walked toward the main entrance where parents lined up in their cars to pick up the students. Maya spotted Austin staring at her through the office room window. She looked away and kept walking.

Volunteers from fifth grade maintained order in the area closer to the main entrance and made sure that the cars kept moving. Lisa spotted her mother’s car waiting at the end of the line and impatiently waited for the car to come closer to the designated pick-up spot. Cars moved slowly, and Lisa got her turn a minute later.

Maya stood still and watched Lisa’s car disappearing from her view before she started walking toward Bellevue Street and turned left. As she adjusted her Power Puff Girls–themed backpack and walked on the pedestrian path leading to Bellevue Street, she remembered Austin staring at her through the office window.
Bully. I am not afraid of bullies.

Austin had always been a bully. Maya had not liked him since preschool days. He somehow managed to get away with all the trouble he caused.

Maya walked for another seven minutes to reach the intersection of Humboldt and Poplar Avenues and waited for the walk signal. A long line of cars formed along Poplar Avenue, which ended with the freeway ramp leading to Route 101.

The walk signal turned green and beeped. She looked to her left to make sure cars were stopped, adjusted her backpack to ease some pain, and crossed the intersection before jumping onto the pedestrian path leading to her apartment complex, which was three more blocks away. She walked past a coffee shop on her right across the street. Then, she spotted a huge black van parked in a strange way on her side of the street, twenty feet away from where she was. An old man sitting in the driver seat projected his bald head out the window and smiled at her.

Who is that?

She looked down, moved to the far left of the pedestrian path, almost to the point of hitting the wire fence surrounding the nearby football field, increased her pace, and walked past the vehicle.

“Hi, there, is this Humboldt Street?”

Maya stopped and looked back in the direction of the croaked voice. The old man moved the van forward to get closer to where she stood.

She nodded.

“Good. I am going to Rockwood Elementary School to pick up my granddaughter. How do I go to the school?” He smiled warmly.

Maya felt at ease when she heard her school’s name. She moved a little closer to the driver’s-side door and pointed at the school playground. “That is the school play—”

In a split second, the man grabbed her shirt collar and backpack together and pulled her in through the driver’s-side window.

Maya’s eyes widened with sheer shock. The next second, her head hit the dashboard. The backpack felt heavier, and her head hurt badly. She bounced back and shouted, “Help! Help!”

The man rolled up the tinted window on his side and moved the vehicle quickly.

Maya swiftly moved, rolled down the passenger side window, and put her head out through it. “Help! Help!” She wanted to shout louder, but the panic made her voice nasal.

The man used his right hand to violently pull her into the passenger seat and slapped her. She fell on the floor mat. He drove the vehicle diagonally to merge into the traffic going toward Peninsula Avenue. Forty seconds later, he crossed the Peninsula intersection, where the traffic light had just changed to green, and turned right into a small lane. He stopped the vehicle in the middle of the street and pulled a white towel from his coat pocket.

He leaned down to reach Maya, who was shivering in fear on the floor mat, placed the towel over her nose, and pressed it for a few seconds. She tried to push his hands away but failed.

He quickly changed gears, drove forward, turned right, drove for another minute, and climbed the ramp leading to Route 101 South.

* * *

H
arrison noticed the black Escalade
, parked illegally facing the flow of traffic across the street, as he walked out of the neighborhood coffee shop. He had observed the same black Escalade a few days earlier when it was parked
on the curb
near Rockwood Elementary. A big vehicle in such a small street was hard to miss.

His day got started just like every other day in the past eighteen months. He woke up at six and ran for an hour on the treadmill while he caught up on crime reports and news. Then, he meditated for an hour in front of the giant Buddha statue in the living room before spending twenty minutes planning the day and the schools to cover.

He placed the latte cup in the cup holder and clicked the play button on the small blue screen mounted below the air duct when he noticed the black Escalade had started moving. He watched the vehicle with curiosity and disgust and hoped that someday the driver would get a ticket for parking against the flow of traffic.

He wondered whether the arrogant driver was going to make a U-turn in the midst of oncoming traffic or jump across the street to merge with the moving traffic to Peninsula Avenue. Just then, he noticed a small girl peeking her head out through the window, waving her hand and yelling something.

What was that?

The girl disappeared in two seconds.

Harrison quickly started the engine and slammed the blue screen to stop the music.