Menu / Previous / Next
Detective Margaret Collier of the Knox County Criminal Investigations Division was among the first wave of investigators the sheriff sent to the island. Because she was slight in stature, freckled, and wore her hair in plaits, most saw cute and wholesome instead of the shrewd, streetwise and relentless officer that she was. She had started her career in prison corrections, found the exhilaration she needed as a drug enforcement special agent, before settling in as an all-purpose detective in the mid-sized Sheriff’s Department. After fifteen years she still worked any case that came her way with the energy of a nuclear reactor. However as both the least threatening in appearance and most specialized in training, her niche was violent crimes involving women and children.
Collier arrived on the island shortly before 10am along with two other detectives and a couple of deputies. Collier partnered with Deputy Frank who stood a foot taller but had the protruding ears of an adolescent and the docile eyes of a ruminant, characteristics not entirely at odds with his ability and ambition. They proceeded directly to Anne’s house to interview Kate and the child. Detective Anders, a former Marine with the build of a linebacker and the charm of a Howitzer was assigned Matt’s interview. The Sheriff knew he’d take it on the way a Rottweiler takes on a bone. That left the third detective, Wentworth, to establish a base of operations, while the affable and puppy-eager Deputy Spooner, stayed by the public landing questioning anyone coming or going.
Another wave of investigators arrived less than two hours later. Among them were two deputies on loan from the Hancock County Sheriff’s department, Stonington’s local law enforcement. Given that Isle au Haut’s deepest tie to the mainland was Stonington, it was both practical and strategic to cross county lines to gain manpower and local knowledge. Most of the crime scene specialists were dispatched immediately into the park. The remaining investigators offloaded equipment to Revere Memorial Hall, the location selected as the field operation headquarters. With the exception of Tom and Nick, who had secured the crime scene and were now pursuing tracks to and from that point, and of detectives Collier and Anders who were continuing their interviews of Kate and Matt, the remainder of the team gathered for updates and assignments. The sheriff and representatives from other agencies conferenced in.
“Okay, listen up, we’re going to keep this brief,” said Wentworth to the group of eight investigators gathered in the makeshift headquarters. While he spoke, he pointed to the flip chart propped on an easel by his side. “Right now, we are interested in three things: the child’s identity, how she got here, and suspects in her abduction. Regarding the child. She’s still not talking. Nothing has turned up in the NCIS files and she’s unknown to child protective services. The working theory is that she’s local but off the grid. You have her photograph. Her tox screen shows she was drugged with Klonopin. She was bound and gagged in silver duct tape. We suspect the perpetrator whistles. Focus your inquiries around that.”
“Whistling? Duct tape? Might as well ask if they have toilet paper,” said Knox County’s most junior deputy, snickering at his own joke.
“Deputy Sprague,” said Wentworth, pausing to stare the smile off the deputy’s face. “Had there been toilet paper, the first question out of your mouth should have been what brand. That’s how this works – the general to the specific.”
Sprague looked to the ground, cheeks burning.
Wentworth waited but nobody else dared a complaint. “Right. It’s early stages. We’ll know more once CSI has a crack at the scene and her clothing.
“Moving on, how the child came to the island.” Wentworth nodded toward the two relative strangers in the room. “With help from our colleagues in Hancock County, we’ve ruled out the ferry, water taxis, charters and so-on. Which points to fisherman or recreational boaters. All ten of Isle au Haut’s fishing vessels have been out since before dawn. One of the captains is being monitored for opiate use. We’re checking criminal records on the rest.”
“It’s a good fishing day in a limited season – you’ll never get them in early,” observed an HCSD deputy.
“That’s why we have Marine Patrol and the Coast Guard. They’ll work the waters, local and state the mainland, and we focus on anyone here. The island is on partial lockdown, so no new visitors from the mainland but residents can come home, and people can leave once their statement has been taken. I’ve prioritized interviews to residents with boats, docks, property overlooking protected inlets, anywhere a dinghy could make a landing. The ranger and CSI are working on narrowing that down for us. Questions.”
“How far back are we asking?” The question came from the only other detective in the room, newly arrived with the second wave. He had been quiet up until that point, observing the team of young deputies as much as listening to the briefing. His question got to the heart of the matter. It was critical to both the child’s and perpetrator’s identities, not to mention that every hour that passed diminished the likelihood the perp would be apprehended.
“All we really know is that the girl was given enough drug to knock her out but not enough to kill her. That’s a 6 to 8-hour window. The girl was unconscious but rousable by the time Kate came along. If we assume the perp drugged her to bring her to the island and move her the mile or so into the woods, that puts arrival at yesterday, mid to late morning.”
“So the perp left at least 24 hours ago,” said Sprague.
“Maybe. Or any time between then or now. Or he’s still here,” said Wentworth. All eyes focused on him. “Truth is, we don’t know where she was drugged, the dose, or even how many times.”
“She could have been here for days and kept sedated,” said a deputy, catching on to the implication.
“True. Except it went unnoticed and she’s in pretty good shape. For now, I’d limit your inquiries to the last 36 hours – that would allow for her to have been brought here under cover of darkness and drugged a second or even a third time. I just don’t see anything longer than that. Not unless we discover an island connection.”
After a pause for more questions, Wentworth flipped the page on the easel and pointed to the two photos taped to the page. “Suspects. Kate Brown and Matt Timmons. Neither has a criminal record. Detectives Collier and Anders have been interviewing them for the last hour and a half. They’ve been cooperating fully, and their accounts track tightly. It appears Kate stumbled into a crime scene, Matt stumbled into Kate and she mistook him for the perp. There are a few more questions and we’re waiting for corroboration from CSI but nothing has emerged to implicate either of them in the crime against the child. There are no other persons of interest at this time.”
Wentworth rapped up the briefing with assignments and the group broke apart. Frank was sent back to Anne’s house, as much to observe and learn as to act as Collier’s liaison to the rest of the investigation. Upon arrival he pulled Collier aside with an update. Kate dared hope the interruption meant the questioning had come to an end. But then Collier and Frank resumed their seats and Kate’s hope turned to disappointment. Her exhaustion, which had been held at bay by caffeine and good intention, landed on her like a physical weight.
“Look, how much longer is this going to take?” Kate sat at Anne’s kitchen table, facing the interior of the house with the front door and porch behind her. Collier and Frank sat opposite her. Sheera, Anne and Evelyn were visible over their shoulders in the living room.
“We’realmost done,” said Collier, not for the first time. “Can you tell us how you found Sheera? Meaning, how she looked when you found her?”
“Again?” said Kate. She slumped forward and kept her voice low so as not to draw the child’s attention away from Evelyn and the slip knot she was learning to tie. “I’ve told you, like, 10 times over. She was lying on her side, hands duct taped together behind her back and another piece covered her mouth.”
“What about her legs? What can you tell us?”
“Her legs? I don’t know. She wore jeans, white socks, pink shoes. You have them, right, for evidence or something?”
“That’s just it. We found evidence that her legs had been taped together too, over her jeans, just above her ankles. Are you sure you didn’t see any tape on her legs?”
“Positive. I’m absolutely sure. Her legs were free.”
“When did Sheera throw up?” asked Collier.
It was bewildering, how Collier kept jumping from one topic to another. Kate had recognized the tactic right from the beginning; just like an interrogation on TV. She now appreciated how difficult it would be to spin a disjointed lie. All chopped up, even the truth was hard to keep track of.
“Did I say she had?” asked Kate blinking.
“CSI discovered vomit at the scene.”
“What? Oh. No. That was me,” said Kate.
“Really? You didn’t mention it before.”
“Sorry. I forgot. It was right after I’d found her. Before I even knew whether she was alive, you know, or not.”
“You thought she might be dead? That’s why you threw up?”
“No. I, ah, reached out to shake her, you know, to see if I could wake her up. That’s when I realized the bruises on her arm were like a handprint – one bruise for each finger. It made me sick.”
Collier paused. Sheera had been examined by Anne, not an investigator. If Anne had connected the bruises to a handprint, that information hadn’t made it to the team and measurements had not been taken. “Thank you, Kate. When we’re done here, we’d like to measure the bruises on Sheera’s arm and neck, and, just to be thorough, take measurements of your hands.”
Kate felt a wave of nausea. She clenched her hands and swallowed hard.
“Kate. Listen to me. I do not think you harmed Sheera. But the DA expects more than opinions. It’s all about proper procedure, dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s. A match wouldn’t prove anything, but a failure to match helps rule you out as a suspect. Think of it as Exhibit A, demonstrating your innocence.”
Kate shuddered. “I hate this.”
“I know it’s hard. You’re doing great. Everything you are doing for us is incredibly helpful.” Collier squeezed Kate’s hand and beamed an encouraging smile. “We’re almost done, one more question.”
Kate groaned. One more question; a tease turned taunt. She nodded for Collier to continue.
“You said you tied the man’s arms behind his back so you could get away. What about his legs? Weren’t you worried he’d come after you?”
Kate’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, shit. I. I didn’t even think of that. I should have, I totally should have. I bet he got away. I’m so sorry.”
“But you put tape across his mouth. Why that and not his legs?”
“He was yelling at me,” said Kate. She held her hands away from her ears and stared at the table, remembering. “I needed him to shut up.” Her eyes flew up and locked onto the detective’s. “It’s what he did to her. Oh god. He must have been trying to shut her up too. Do you think that’s why she won’t talk – because she thinks we might do it to her. Oh my god. I’ve been carrying around the man’s tape. What if she thinks I might use it on her?”
“Kate.” Collier said this firmly enough to anchor Kate back to the ground. “She trusts you. You can see that, right? How she looks at you?”
Kate dropped her hands to the table. She glanced at Sheera in the other room, then looked away. “Yes.”
“Kate,” said Collier, reaching across the table to take Kate’s hand again. “I want you to know, you’ve done really well. She trusts you because you found her, fought a man to protect her, kept her safe and warm overnight and got the police involved as soon as you could. You’ve done really, really well Kate.”
Kate sat back resting her hands on the edge of the table and smiled wanly. “I. Thank you. It’s kind of you to say. Not true. But kind. I wish I had done better. I should have. I should have tied up the man’s legs for one. He got away because of me.”
“Kate. You didn’t let the bad guy get away. We have the man you saw and have been questioning him all morning. We’re confident he’s not the man who hurt the little girl.”
Dumbstruck, Kate stared. It wasn’t him?
“A lot of people have duct tape,” shrugged Collier. “It was just a coincidence.”
“Oh my God. I hurt him. I really hurt him. Is he still here? On the island?”
“Kate, you should know,” said Collier, her voice softening. “He’s Matt Timmons. Nick Timmons’ son. He’s been staying with Nick on the island for a few months now.”
Kate pushed her mug aside and propped her forehead in her hands, shielding her eyes. After four long breaths, her hands dropped to the table. “I beat up the cop’s son.” Kate looked away from the detective, shaking her head. “Nick, he knew all along. And Tom. They didn’t say a thing.”
“They couldn’t.”
Kate’s gaze went to the women in the living room and then back to the investigators in front of her. Nobody had said a thing.
“Joke’s on me,” said Kate.
“It was a mistake. An honest mistake. You showed a lot of courage out there.”
Courage? She’d panicked, beat up the wrong guy and hid. Which reminded her. “What about the person overnight, while we were hiding? Was that Matt too?” Kate hoped for some sort of redemption. Maybe that the real bad guy was after them. Or Matt had come looking for revenge. Something to justify hiding.
“No, Matt was home. Nick and Anne both confirmed it,” said Collier.
“So, it really was him, the bad guy, out looking for us.” It wasn’t much of a silver lining, knowing the bad guy had been so close. Still, Kate felt slightly better.
“Kate, judging by the location of your hideout and your estimate of the time of night, we are pretty confident the person you heard was the ranger. He was out on the trails looking for you. Around that time, he was on the trail that passed closest to where you were hiding.”
Kate’s vision blurred with an onslaught of tears. She pushed herself up from the table, hopped to her crutches leaning against the wall, tucked them in place and headed for the front door.
Although Frank stood when Kate did, Collier stayed seated. They couldn’t force her to stay. She was no longer a suspect. But they needed her help to solve the mystery of Sheera’s identity and the crime perpetrated against her. Kate was their key informant and their best hope for communicating with Sheera. She was also losing it. She needed calm reassurance and Collier intended to provide it.
“Nobody blames you, Kate,” said Collier to her back.
Kate stopped but didn’t turn around. “I bet Matt does.”
“We’ll explain. He’ll understand. Nobody…”
Kate flashed the back of her hand. “Nobody blames me. Well you should. All of you. Especially Sheera. The real joke’s on her, isn’t it? For trusting me.” Everything she’d done had been wrong. She’d left Sheera and lost her, hoping for rescue. She beat up the first guy who’d tried and hid from the second. ‘It’s called obstruction’, Nick had said. They should charge her.
Disgusted, embarrassed, Kate had to get out. Jamming the crutches in front of her, she reached the door in two long swings. She wrestled her way out, dropped a crutch, nearly toppled picking it back up, and slammed the door behind her. Frank took three long strides to the window to watch Kate’s progress across the porch and down the steps while Collier stood to face the onslaught of Anne, Evelyn and Sheera, crowding into the kitchen.
“She stopped in the yard,” said Frank. “She’s crying. Probably just needs a minute to gather herself.”
“You think?” Anne asked.
“What did you expect?” Evelyn said.
“Everyone let’s take a deep breath,” said Detective Collier. Arms spread low and wide, she attempted to shepherd them back into the living room. “Kate’s reaction is…”
Sheera ducked past Collier and ran for the front door. Frank sashayed two steps to the side, blocking the door, and reached down for the girl. Sheera did an about turn, zipped out of reach and dove under the kitchen table. Frank stepped foward and dragged a chair away as if to go after her. The room erupted in shouts.
“Kaaate,” wailed Sheera. Against Anne and Evelyn’s roars of protest at Frank, and Collier’s hot command for him to back-off, Sheera’s desperate cry barely registered.
Frank jumped back from the verbal onslaught and released the chair as if burned. It crashed to the floor adding to the pandemonium drowning out Sheera’s second cry for Kate.
“Kaaate,” called Sheera a third time and final time. She had emerged from beneath the table just long enough to snag a leg of the toppled chair and was pulling it toward her to close the gap Frank had created.
The movement of the chair finally drew the adults’ attention to what they’d been hearing; Sheera’s voice, calling for Kate. Each froze in silence until the scrape of the chair across the floorboards was the only sound in the room. An instant later there was not sound at all.
At first the adults just stared at one another across the table in disbelief. At a gesture from Collier, everybody took a large step back from the table. This was all the opening Sheera needed to bolt from under the table and disappear into the living room. Anne and Evelyn stepped back into the doorway like a barricade and resumed their barrage of shouts and finger pointing. The young deputy’s prominent ears burned bright red as he lobbed his own volley of angry shouts.
“Enough!” barked Collier and the others fell silent. She took a deep breath, righted the chair, and fixed her eyes on Anne and Evelyn. “Please. We are all on the same side. Right now, our primary concern is Sheera. Anne, can you see her?”
Anne stepped away to scan the living room. She returned a short time later and shook her head at the detective.
“Collier,” said Frank. “I don’t see her. Kate, I mean.” He had moved back to the window and was craning his neck left and right.
She must not have heard Sheera cry out, thought Collier. Otherwise, nothing short of a meteor strike would have kept Kate away. Collier also doubted Kate would simply leave. No matter how upset, giving up now didn’t jive with what Collier understood of Kate’s keen sense of responsibility. So where was she?
“Sight lines?” asked Collier.
“Not great,” admitted Frank. “Woods to the left. If she kept heading straight across the road, down toward the water, she’d drop out of sight.”
The detective considered her options. Kate was an adult, under no obligation to stay and at no known risk. Sheera was a child, under their protection, with a perp at large. As much as Collier wished she could find Kate first, explain what happened and enlist her help, they didn’t have the luxury. They had to have eyes on Sheera.
“Okay. Sheera first. We need to locate her. What’s beyond the living room?”
“There’s a den, office, and bathroom,” said Anne.
“What about upstairs? An attic? Basement?”
“There are three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. No easy way into the attic. No basement.”
“Exits?”
“There’s a backdoor into the yard.”
“Frank, stay here. Do not get between Kate and Sheera. Anne and Evelyn, please check the house. I’ll take a look out back. If anybody sees her, just let the rest of us know. We don’t want to make things any worse.”
Anne and Evelyn immediately left the kitchen to go search the house. Collier doubted the perp was in the vicinity or that Kate was in danger, but the remote possibility gave her an excuse to keep Frank occupied and out of the way. She caught the deputy’s attention, pointed two fingers at her own eyes and then pointed out the window. Leaving him to stand watch, she went in search of the backdoor. Just as she reached it, she heard an engine coming to life.
Evelyn poked her head into the hallway. “Not my truck,” said Evelyn to Collier.
“Anne,” bellowed Collier. Frank bounded into view.
“Up here,” called Anne from upstairs. “Did you find her?”
“Shit,” said the detective. She jutted her chin at Frank. He spun around and headed for the kitchen while she hurried out the back. Anne arrived at the bottom of the staircase moments later looking worried and confused.
“You left your keys in the car,” stated Evelyn. Anne noticed the sound of her car running and Evelyn’s eyes glinted mischievously.
“You’re kidding,” said Anne smiling back at her. The two crossed into the den because it afforded a view of the vehicles parked in the half circle drive to the right of the house. They could see Kate and the child in the two front seats, turned so they faced one another, their foreheads touching. They watched Collier approach the car from the backyard, coming to a stand directly in front of the vehicle. Frank crouched low and edged around Evelyn’s truck toward the rear of the car.
“Surely they’re not going to try and stop her,” said Anne. “Where do they think she’s going to go?”
“I doubt she’s going anywhere. Do you think she sees him?” asked Evelyn.
“Who, Kate? I don’t think she’s paying attention to either one of them.”
“I meant the detective. Do you think Dorothy sees Lurch?”
Anne snorted at the reference, then considered the question. No, from that angle, Collier definitely couldn’t see Frank sneaking up to the car. “Uh oh.”
Collier stood in front of the car and once again spread her hands low and wide in a gesture of conciliation.
“Kate,” called Collier.
Kate’s head jerked up in surprise. Frank used the distraction to try the rear door handle. It was locked but the attempt drew Sheera’s attention and she squealed in alarm. Kate twisted around, saw the deputy, and then snapped back into her seat. She slammed her hand down on the driver’s side door lock and lunged across Sheera to lock her door too. Back in her seat, she gripped the steering wheel and glared at the detective.
“Frank,” yelled the detective. With an angry swipe of her palm, she motioned for him to move away from the car. The deputy immediately backed off, but Collier saw that it was too late. Kate was buckling Sheera’s seat belt.
Kate turned the key in the ignition, grinding the starter, since the engine was already running. Confused, she fiddled with the key, brake and gear shift, turning the car off and then back on again. Collier had moved out of the way and gestured for Kate to calm down. Breathing heavily, Kate put the car in gear and drove the remaining arc of the driveway to where it rejoined the road. Everyone watched as Kate signaled first to the left, then to the right, then back to the left. She pulled onto the loop road and drove away.
“Inside,” growled Collier. Anne and Evelyn watched as the detective, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring, marched the deputy toward the front door.
“Can’t you just see her grab his ear and drag him to the shed for a whooping?” said Evelyn.
Anne burst out laughing. “I don’t have a shed.”
“Kitchen then,” said Evelyn.
“Right. I think I’ll go make some coffee. You coming?”
“You’re not worried about your car?”
“You’re kidding, right? After that stunt, I’d have offered her the keys.” That had been Evelyn’s thought too.