Tell My Dad (4 page)

W
hen Shannon Winters
reached the house, she spotted San Mateo Police officers waiting outside. A Sequoia Hospital ambulance, with flashing red lights on the top, was parked across the street. Her vision blurred as she got out of her car and ran toward the front door of the house.

An officer stopped her. “Are you the mother?” he asked as if he were accusing her of something.

“Yes. Where is my daughter? Is she safe? What’s going on?”

Before the officer could reply, Shannon started crying.

“Ma’am, please calm down. Your daughter is safe. She’s in the ambulance. Let me take you there.”

Shannon walked fast with the officer. Maria sat on the EMS chair, behind the ambulance. Her head was wrapped up with a bandage.

“Oh my God. What happened, Maria?” Shannon hugged her tight, and both started crying.

A paramedic, who stood to the side, faced Shannon. “Ma’am, please be gentle. Your daughter was attacked and hit in the head. She seems to be okay, but we need to take her to the hospital to make sure. We’ll leave as soon as the cops give us a go.”

Shannon nodded and wiped her tears as the officer spoke. “Ms. Winters, my name is Jack Ackerman. I’m a detective with the San Mateo Police. Someone tried to kidnap your daughter. She is in shock. She said someone came through the backyard door and attacked her with a gun.”

Shannon gasped.

The officer kept talking. “We got the call around nine thirty. When we came here, we found her in the trunk of that vehicle.” He pointed at a Subaru in the distance.

“H–how…?” she stammered. “Did Maria call 911?”

“No. Someone else—Listen…we don’t know a lot of things at this point. Just stay with your daughter. I will be back.”

Shannon watched the officer walking toward the Subaru and sensed the moisture in her hands. Maria tightly held her hands. Tears flowed from Maria’s eyes that were deeply hurt by guilt and terror. “Mom…I am so scared. Don’t leave me alone.”

“No. I won’t.” Shannon hugged her tight and sobbed.

* * *

A
ckerman approached the Subaru
. All four doors were left open. Officer Walker stood near the driver-side door.

“Did you find anything interesting, Derek?”

“Nope. Nothing new. I checked three times already. This guy probably died just before we arrived. The bleeding stopped just now. I checked the guy’s—Jay Sanchez—driver license and checked DMV records. He is the owner of the vehicle; he renewed the registration a month ago. He lives, um, never mind—he lived in Belmont Hills if the address on the license is still current. The vehicle looks normal. Well, apart from the dead guy with the warning on his forehead.”

Nothing was normal about a crime scene. There was always something. Ackerman knew that he just needed to find it.

He bit the flashlight in his mouth and checked the trunk—bloodstains on the floor mat, possibly from the girl’s injury. Other than that, the trunk was clean. He checked the backseat. Heineken beer cases were stacked on one seat. There was nothing on the other seat. He smelled a perfume, could be deodorant.
Sandalwood spray?
He noticed the blood on the headrest of the driver’s seat and also on the floor mat behind it. The blood had probably dripped onto the floor. The right side of the dead guy’s neck was deeply cut, possibly by a steel wire or a knife. Laceration around the neck. Someone strangled the dead guy from behind with a garrote.
Why?

Ackerman knelt on the passenger seat and shined the light on Jay Sanchez’s forehead. There it was…the familiar face painting.

“Stay away from” was written on the forehead and then, a word on one cheek and another on the other cheek.

“Stay away from little girls.”

A bad guy walked into the house. He kidnapped the girl. Then, someone saved the girl, killed the bad guy, and wrote the warning on the dead guy’s forehead.
Who is that guy?

Ackerman sniffed and smelled the deodorant again. It could have been from the killer. Jay Sanchez looked and smelled really bad.

“Well, this is the third time in less than a month. Based on the writing, it could be the same guy who killed the two other kidnappers in the past few weeks.” Ackerman paused for a second. “Or…maybe it’s a copycat; maybe someone wants to confuse us. The writing is different this time. He is improvising. ‘
Stay away from little girls
’ instead of just ‘
Stay away
.’”

Walker stared at the dead man and said, “Maybe the bald guy has more real estate on his face!” He smiled at his dry humor. “Whoever killed this guy must be clever.”

“Really? He is the
killer
even if he killed the bad guy. I can’t believe that you admire the killer.”

“Okay, okay…I’m just—never mind. Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Ackerman changed the topic. “We need to impound this vehicle and check it again in daylight. We may find something. Let’s go to this guy’s house after we are done with the forensic folks.”

A
t eleven o’clock
the next morning, Detectives Ackerman and Walker came out of Shannon’s house. Maria was still in shock.
Poor girl will take weeks, if not months, before becoming normal.
Ackerman did not get any new information from Maria. She had narrated the incident for a third time. Her account of Jay Sanchez trolling the Internet for underage girls coincided with what Ackerman had found in Sanchez’s house.

Jay Sanchez practically lived on the Internet and had multiple fake accounts in each social media site. Ackerman found no criminal record and nothing in the FBI databases, although Jay had tons of child pornography materials on his laptop, just like other criminal perverts possessed. The guy was a lone wolf, just like a typical kidnapper.
These people do not live and do not let others live either.

Ackerman leaned on his Ford and looked at the house in front of him before turning his gaze to Walker. “Did you hear from Jay Sanchez’s mother?”

Walker shook his head. “Not yet. I left her a message again today. Hers was the only number in his phone contact list.”

“She may not even care if this guy is dead or alive.”

Whoever killed Jay Sanchez had planned it, waited for him in the backseat. The killer was organized, patient, and professional. There were no clues except the deodorant smell. Ackerman’s mind raced with various questions as he scanned the street. Did the killer know Sanchez was going to kidnap Maria? If so, why did he not stop the kidnapping in the first place? Why did he wait in the backseat for Sanchez to come back? Maybe the killer was an accomplice turned south at the last minute? The
stay away
message could be a distraction.

Ackerman stared at the place where the Subaru had been parked the previous night and wondered what he was missing. His mind stopped racing when he heard Walker’s voice. “The girl is terribly shaken. This stupid social media is turning into criminal media.”

Ackerman sighed. “Well, some people use technology for good things. Some abuse it.” He clicked his tongue and said, “There is always a motive behind each killing. I’m just thinking—maybe the killer is related to the girl.”

“What about the girl’s father? He might have been involved.”

“Girl’s parents are divorced. Her father lives in New Jersey. He’s on the way.”

“What about the boyfriend? Does the girl have one?”

“No. She does not. I talked to her classmates first thing in the morning. Moreover, this killing was not done by a teenager. It was someone professional, someone with a
lot of rage
.”

Ackerman’s phone rang. He talked for a minute and hung up. “That was the forensic team. Graffiti on Jay Sanchez’s face was written by standard permanent markers. There’s nothing fancy there. Lab people think that a garrote was used in a strange angle to cut the neck. It was not an amateur job.”

“Maybe a hired contract killer?” Walker’s brows narrowed.

“None of this makes sense. This is preplanned. Someone waited until Sanchez kidnapped the girl and then killed him and sent the message. I asked computer forensics to check Sanchez’s laptop. We may get some clues there.” He stopped when he noticed Walker had something to say.

“I listened to the 911 recording a couple of times. It’s just like the previous two murders, the one near San Bruno and the one closer to Hillsdale Mall. The caller spoke in a robotic voice. He ended the call with ‘
Justice is done
.’ I’m pretty sure the same guy is involved in all three murders,” Walker said in a confident tone.

“You’re speculating. The truth is we don’t know until we catch the killer.” Ackerman sighed. “Chief is talking to the FBI folks as we speak. They have more resources and better technology. They may be able to find the killer.”

“I really hope so.”

C
laudia Turner smiled back
at the cashier who said, “Try another card; that may work!” She nodded, pulled out another credit card from the wallet, and swiped it. “Declined.” Claudia sighed before trying the same card two more times.

A young man with tattoo-covered biceps, standing right behind her, threw his hands up in the air. He looked at the cashier and said, “It’s nine o’clock on Friday night. But you keep only one counter open.
And
your payment terminal won’t behave. Look at all these people waiting in the line.” His long silver earrings were dancing, along with his head.

Someone behind suggested, “This is why I carry cash all the time. Cash is king!”

“Come on, Mommy! I’m hungry! I want to open that box!” Emily looked over her right shoulder and pointed to the box of chocolate candy in the cart.

Claudia ignored Emily, who sat on the cart seat and gave an apologetic look to the cashier. “Let me try one more time. If this doesn’t work, I’m going to leave all this stuff here and run to the ATM and come back.” She swiped and waited for the damned thing to get approved.

Approved.

“Thank God!” She exhaled. “
Now
, we can go.” She finally smiled at Emily and pushed the cart to the parking lot.

“What happened, Mommy? You don’t have money?”

“I have money! Their machine is old. It’s not reading the card.”

Emily giggled. “How can the machine read, Mommy?”

“You’ll be surprised when you realize what all these machines do!” Claudia smiled as she took Emily from the cart seat and placed her in the booster seat in the back of the Toyota Prius.

“I don’t want to sit in the booster. I want to sit there.” Emily pointed to the other corner of the backseat.

“Sure! Once you reach your eighth birthday! Until then, the booster seat will give you a better view!” She kissed Emily on the forehead after buckling her up. “I love you, my little angel!”

“I love you too, Mommy!” Emily waved the tiny teddy bear she was holding in her hand.

Claudia slowly came out of the supermarket parking lot and took a left turn instead of taking the usual right to go to her home in Redwood Shores. She felt embarrassed about not having cash in hand when the credit cards bailed on her. She decided not to enter any store without cash in her wallet.
Always have a plan B.

A minute later, she took a sharp right to enter the parking lot in front of the building, the senior center, which was well lit. Then, she drove around the building and parked her car closer to the Foster City Credit Union’s ATM terminal, which was right behind the senior center. In contrast to the number of lights in front of the building, there was only one light, just above the ATM machine, in the back of the building. A cereal-bowl-shaped black-colored camera was mounted right next to the light.

Claudia stopped the engine, turned, and looked at Emily. “Mommy will be back in a second. I am going to run to that machine and take the money. Okay?”

“Okay, Mommy! Get some money for my teddy bear too!” Emily giggled.

Claudia laughed as she got out of the car. She looked through the window and waved to Emily before closing the door.

“Hello, young lady,” a nasal voice said from behind.

Claudia, rattled a bit, turned around to see an old man, may be seventy years old, on her left. His body was shaking as if he had just come out of a cold shower, in spite of the full-length white fur coat he wore. He adjusted his gray cowboy hat with his trembling hands. “I need your help, young lady! Can you get me some money from that ATM? I have the card, but I can’t punch my PIN numbers with these ever shaking stupid hands! Help an old man, young lady.” His eyes begged for kindness.

“Gosh, you just freaked me out!” Claudia sighed and moved back a little. “Tell you what; you can try the police station. Just a block away. Go there. The cops will help you out. Me using your ATM card—I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“That will be great. Sorry for the trouble.” He coughed. “Where’s that police station again?” The old man’s hands were still trembling.

Claudia turned to her right and pointed to a tall building across the street. “That’s the library. Behind that—”

The man’s hands stopped trembling. He pressed his left thumb on the fingers, moved the hand at a forty-five degree angle, and swiftly punched Claudia in the stomach. His right hand threw a punch to her head, which hit the driver-side door frame. Then, he pushed her into the driver seat, grabbed her hair, and banged her head forcibly on the steering wheel. He moved so quickly that Claudia lost consciousness before she realized what had happened.

He ignored Emily’s scream and looked around. He made sure not to look back at the camera. Then, he pulled a white towel from his full fur coat, opened the back door, and pressed the towel to Emily’s nose. He removed her from the booster seat and carried her to a black Escalade, which was parked conveniently behind the group of utility meter boxes, diagonally across from the Prius. Then, he gently placed Emily in the backseat, started the engine, and drove toward the Route 92 ramp, which was two minutes away.

* * *

N
inety minutes later
, FBI Special Agent Theaker arrived in the Foster City Police Station, along with Agents Cooper and Honks from the CARD team.

Child abduction rapid deployment (CARD) teams were formed in October 2005. These teams were designed to deploy teams of experienced personnel to provide on-the-ground investigative assistance to state and local law enforcement. The nationwide CARD team consisted of more than sixty members, with five teams serving each region of the country.

Theaker shook hands with Foster City Police Chief Evans and introduced the FBI team. “Where can we set up our command center?”

Evans pointed to the conference room on the far end. “We have desks set up for you guys. If you need more space, we can set up one in the library next door.”

Four minutes later, Evans cleared his throat and started his briefing. “We got a call from a security guard at the senior citizens’ center at nine thirty. He found a lady unconscious in the car parked closer to the ATM, which was just behind the senior center. Our officers reached the scene at nine thirty-five. The woman’s name is Claudia Turner. She had a severe injury to the head and is being treated in Mills Peninsula Hospital for head trauma. Officers found the empty booster seat in the backseat. Claudia’s daughter, Emily Turner, is missing. She’s five.”

Evans paused for a moment and looked at the team members, who were standing around the table. “Claudia went to the grocery store, two blocks from the ATM location, before going to the ATM. The store receipt shows that she paid at the counter at 9:02. We checked with the cashier. There was only one cashier in the store. She confirmed that Claudia and her daughter were in the store at that time. Assuming that Claudia came out of the store around 9:03, she should have reached the ATM terminal around 9:10. The senior center’s security guard spotted the car at 9:30. Something happened in those twenty minutes. Someone took the child.” He exhaled.

“I would start with the security guard. Nothing would have happened without him knowing about it. He may be involved in this,” Theaker said.

“He’s the security guard for the senior center. He’s supposed to patrol the area around the center every thirty minutes. The ATM is located in the back of the building, in a corner. The guard is very much on our suspect list. He swears that he did not hear any scream for help. Right now, the only person who can tell us what happened there is Claudia. She is still unconscious. We contacted her husband. He was in an offsite meeting in Novato. He’s on the way to the hospital. He said that Claudia called him around eight o’clock on the way to the store. We’ll get a better picture of what happened when Claudia is ready to talk.”

“There must be cameras near the ATM,” Cooper said.

“Yes, there were two, one above the ATM, one on the ATM itself. We already reached out to the bank people. They’re working on getting the camera feed to us.”

Honks said, “We need to check out the crime scene. A camera mounted in the ATM itself won’t be very useful. Its coverage is limited. Our best bet is the other camera on top of the terminal. Hopefully, it captured what happened.”

“Do we have pictures of the girl?” Theaker asked.

“Yes, we got them from the father. The man is devastated. We issued an Amber Alert just before you guys walked in,” Chief Evans said.

Theaker rubbed his temple. “We should take a look at the crime scene.”

“Sure, it’s just a block away.”

* * *

A
gent Cooper opened
the driver side door of the Toyota Prius and inspected the interior while Honks looked around and stared at the camera mounted above the ATM.

“This should have good coverage, from here to there.” Honks moved his arms in a V-shape. “This must have covered what happened in that car.”

Cooper nodded and opened the right back door of the vehicle. On other end of the backseat, there was an empty booster seat. Mild smell of a chemical, possibly chloroform. No sign of a struggle in the backseat. A small teddy bear with a tiny pink hat was thrown upside down on the floor mat.

Cooper opened the trunk to find two bags of groceries and a box of chocolate candy. The trunk organizer was neatly arranged in the far right of the trunk. He opened the trunk tool box and checked if anything was missing. He was expecting to find a bloodstained wrench or jack. Nothing. The tools were neatly arranged as if never touched.

Cooper came out of the car and surveyed the area. The ATM terminal was located right behind the senior center. There was only one light, just above the ATM. Lights behind the center were switched off to conserve energy after the center was closed at nine o’clock.

On his right was the back of the senior center. To his left was a pitch-black empty lot. Straight ahead, he faced a small trail adjacent to Foster City Lake. He walked closer to the trail and directed his gaze at two men playing guitar near the lake’s shore, under the structure that resembled a Chinaman’s hat.

He turned around and faced Honks. “This is not a remote place. There are people around. It’s Friday night, for God’s sake. I can understand why the woman didn’t have second thoughts about coming to this ATM location.” He thought for a second. “How about the cameras in the front of the building?”

“I just checked. There’s no camera in the senior center. They didn’t think it was necessary. There were only two cameras, both near the ATM,” Honks said.

Cooper stopped what he was about to say when he spotted Theaker, who was standing next to a black Chevy, which was parked ten feet from the Prius, signaling him to come over.

Theaker said in a louder voice, “We got the video feed,” as he placed a silver-colored HP laptop on top of the Chevy’s trunk. His left hand was holding the mobile phone while his right hand operated the laptop.

“Okay, I’m in. What should I click now?” Theaker waited impatiently for the answer from the person at the other end of the call.

He spent the next three minutes navigating around the bank’s compliance website before being able to see the video feed. Agents Cooper and Honks took each side of Theaker and stared at the empty parking lot in the video shown on the laptop screen.

The top right of the video indicated 9:08 p.m. when a Toyota Prius pulled up close to the curb. The woman in the driver’s seat turned around and talked to someone in the backseat. Then, she got out, smiling and waving.
There
—

A tall man wearing a cowboy hat talked to the woman, who looked frightened. The man was facing away from the camera. His face below his eyes was visible. He had a long face and wrinkled skin. His forehead, eyes, and ears were hidden by the large cowboy hat. He said something to the woman. Then, he attacked her before pushing her into the car.

“Freeze there,” Honks said hurriedly.

Theaker stopped and looked at the frame. The man’s face was still not visible. He cocked his head sideways to expose just the top of his hat.