Agent Snyder sat on his porch sipping on a glass of his wife's homemade lemonade. It wasn't very good, but he loved that she made an effort and drank it like it was the best beverage he had ever tasted. Val was in the yard tending to her roses while Molly played with the dog on the front lawn. It was so good to be home. He and Donna had gone to see Senator Crowley themselves to personally apologize for not finding his son's remains, so there were a few bittersweet moments knowing he got to go home to his child and Crowley couldn't even bury his. Bill smiled at Val as his cell chimed, standing to answer.
"Agent Velasquez," he stated.
"Hey Snyder, how are Val and Molly?"
"Good. We are just enjoying some down time right now." This would have been evident by his attire. At work he wore the typical FBI fashion of the plain black suit. On occasion he would act like a rock star and wear blue. At home, in the heat of city, he was wearing jeans and tee shirt and even sandals since the weather was still so unbearably hot.
"What's up? We catch a case?"
She paused a moment and Bill could hear her tapping her pen on her desk. This was a habit he was all too familiar with from her and he knew there was something up that was not sitting right with her. Donna was all work and hardly any play outside her routine trips to the gym.
"Not really sure what to think of it, but when we were in Caineville that girl Veronica was really upset that we had told her father where she was living."
"Yes, I remember. You had almost," he paused and chuckled, "a maternal moment with her." He turned to look at Val, giving her a smile and a wink to let her know he was not going to be leaving town again.
"Bill, this is serious." She was no fun sometimes.
"Then tell me."
"I had his name in my system from the contact. I got a hit on him this morning. His sponsor filed a missing persons report on him. It has been a week and no one has seen or heard from the guy."
Donna was sitting at her desk in her home office clicking through the information she could find on Michael Gibbs. At age 53, he worked at a local gas station as an attendant. He was married twice, the second marriage producing one child – a daughter named Veronica. The file contained no real information on the first wife. Her name had been Susan and they were married for 11 months. The second marriage to a woman named Alison lasted three years and ended when she was killed in a drunk driving accident. She was the driver. Single car accident, no one else injured. Michael raised Veronica alone it appeared after that. He had worked numerous years as a driver for a local delivery company. There were no complaints toward him over the years though she was sure from Ronnie's reaction that he had molested her.
It also struck her odd that he was a driver considering the missing person's report was not filed by his place of employment but his sponsor. A Benjamin Dunleavy filed the report stating his ward had not checked in after telling him he was going to apologize to his daughter.
That is the part that made her wonder. One, he was a driver for nearly twenty years. There were no marks on his driving record – yet he obviously had a drinking problem or he wouldn't have been in AA. No marks, that is until the year Ronnie left home when she was 17. He was fired from the courier company and had seven jobs in the last four years, the most recent being with a Sinclair service station in Salt Lake City. The other issue was he had gone to Caineville to see Ronnie and never returned. Just like Edgar Crowley. She was starting to think the innocent girl act was just that – an act.
Bill cleared his throat and stepped inside so Molly didn't hear anything inappropriate. "You think something happened to him on his little trip to see his daughter?"
"Just a feeling." Donna said still reading the missing persons report.
"This wouldn't be our case, Don. Missing or dead even, that would be something for local law enforcement. Why don't you give that Sheriff Pratt a call if you are concerned? Either way, this is not something we can do anything about."
She sighed, "It doesn't strike you as odd?"
"Sure it does, but Michael Gibbs showing up on a missing persons report is not an FBI matter. Let Pratt handle it, or the local SLC PD. The guy was in AA, he likely went to Caineville, said his peace and is hold up somewhere drinking away his sorrows. Just because his sponsor can't find him doesn't mean something nefarious happened. Just means the guy is an idiot. If he did do something heinous to that girl – which he likely did – why the hell would he think finding her would be acceptable?"
"He had a rental car. It was found at a Park and Ride outside of Roosevelt on Highway 191 just south a Vernal. The DOT says the cameras have been down out there for over a month so there is no footage of the car being dropped off or abandoned."
Bill knew arguing with Donna was no good. "Call Pratt, Donna. That is the best you can do at this point. Keep me posted. I really didn't think you wanted to go back there, but you dig too deep and you're going to end up right back in that desert."
"I miss the coffee."
Bill laughed and ended the call. There was something fishy about the car, he would give her that but in the end it really was a case for the locals. Rubes or not, it was not an FBI matter.
Donna couldn't let it go. She grabbed her badge and service weapon and headed to the address on file for Ben Dunleavy. She wanted to know why he filed that report and why a man like Michael Gibbs was worth any trouble. He was clearly a pervert. Maybe Snyder was right. The guy was an idiot to think his daughter wanted anything to do with him. She just couldn't shake the feeling if Ronnie offed her dad she may have done the same thing to those boys. Having that case open ended was not something she wanted on her service record and the idea of getting to leave Utah was always dancing around in her head. It was a great incentive to use some of her current personal time to dig a little deeper. With any luck, Special Agent Donna Velasquez would be back on the east coast before she knew it.
The knock on the door took Ben's attention off the television. He was a frumpy older guy with gray sideburns and mustache. He didn't bother looking to see who was knocking but smiled when he saw Agent Velasquez standing on his stoop. He lived on a second story apartment that looked more like it had been a motel in the past. Each living quarter was more like a studio – a single room with a kitchenette and a small bathroom on the side.
She held up her badge. "Special Agent Velasquez, FBI. Are you Benjamin Dunleavy?"
He could not help but looked surprised. "The FBI? I don't understand."
"I am here to speak with you about Michael Gibbs. Do you have a moment?"
He stepped aside inviting her in. "Sure. I am just a little confused why the FBI is involved. Has something happened to Michael? Has he done something?"
Donna was not entirely sure how to take the question. She removed a notebook and pen from her jacket ready to take notes. Ben pointed to the small dining table big enough for two and they both took a seat.
"Why do you ask that, Mr. Dunleavy? Is Michael Gibbs prone to doing things he shouldn't?"
The old man laughed. "You're with the FBI, surely you have pieced together Michael's past."
"Let's assume I haven't." Donna had a way of sounding so serious when she spoke she frequently made people uncomfortable. Her gut instinct was tremendous but her people skills always seemed to be lacking.
Ben looked at her to see if she were serious. Deciding she was he continued, "Right. Well, I have known him for the past three years. He showed up at a meeting one night and I could still smell the booze on him. I felt sorry for him. We talked and after a while I became his sponsor."
He pulled a coin from his pocket. "Ten years sober."
"Congratulations."
Ben nodded and continued, sliding the coin back in to his pocket of what Donna was just noticing were pajama pants. "I guess you could call Michael and I friends. It's why I filed the report to begin with. If anything I wanted to show him someone out there cared. He struggled with the drink for a long time before seeking help. One night last year he came to me a wreck. I thought he had fallen off the wagon. What hair he did have on his head was all messed up, hell, if I remember correctly his shirt was even buttoned uneven. Like a kid had dressed him. He said there was something he needed to confess – like I was a damn priest or something. I honestly wasn't sure I wanted to hear it but sometimes when you take on the role of sponsor you have to listen to things you don't necessarily want to hear."
He paused and offered the agent a drink. When she said no, he sighed as if he were hoping the break in the conversation would bring some reprieve for what he was about to tell her.
"Michael Gibbs is a sick man. He lived most of his life unlike the man he's become over the last few years. Sobriety will do that to a person. He told me he smacked around both of his wives and every woman he had ever dated. The temper on the man was never something I experienced myself, but he would regale me with stories of bar fights and angry nights always wondering why he never went to jail from it. That night he showed up he said he didn't know what changed. He had never in the past been attracted to young girls but when his daughter, Veronica, turned twelve he said he became aroused one night when she sat on his lap to give him a kiss goodnight. Nothing happened that night but he said it didn't take long before his urges got the better of him and before long he was doing all kinds of horrible things to her. And not just touching, he said.
It was like a full on assault. I remember feeling disturbed that he laughed when he told me this. He said he didn't really consider it rape the first time he took her because she didn't really fight back or scream. He said she didn't even cry. Eventually he let some of his friends have at her too. Then when she was 17 she saw an opportunity and ran away."
Donna didn't know what to think. She knew Michael had been a pig but the eeriness of the laughter rested on her shoulders like Jacob Marley's chains.
"What did you do when he told you this?"
"What was I supposed to do? I comforted him. It was obviously one of the reasons he drank so heavily over the years. He couldn't live with himself for what he had done to his own child."
"You didn't report it to any authorities?" Donna asked bewildered.
"No, why? Isn't there a statute of limitations on things like that? And she's an adult now anyway. What good would it have done?" Ben picked at something on the table.
"Veronica Gibbs is only 21, Mr. Dunleavy. There are no statutes of limitations for rape or rape of a child in the state of Utah. It is a first degree felony. If we find Michael Gibbs, he can and will be prosecuted for this."
Ben looked uncomfortable. He stood and started pacing in the small space that served as both his bedroom and living room. "I wasn't trying to get him in trouble, ma'am. I was just looking for my friend."
Agent Velasquez stood as well and placed her notebook back in to her pocket. "Your friend, Mr. Dunleavy is a pedophile. Drunk or not, sober or not. Why did he go looking for her?"
Ben started to look frantic. He didn't realize what he had gotten himself involved in. "He said he received a call about Veronica's whereabouts. He was all jumbled saying he needed to apologize to her face to face for all the bad things he had ever done. He wanted to make things right."
Donna couldn't hide her expression. "Make things right? Sir, you cannot take away the pain and torment of rape with an apology. Do you have children?"
He glanced over at a few pictures hanging crooked on the wall. "I do, yes."
"Did you molest or forcibly rape your children?"
Ben looked appalled that she would even ask such a question. "No! Of course not!"
"Tell me then, do you think for a moment if you had that your daughter would just forgive you with a simple apology?"
He started to cry, shaking his head no – the reality of the situation hitting him. How could an AA sponsor be this naive?
She pulled out her business card and placed it on the table with a slight tap. "If you hear from him before we do, please give me a call."
All the way home Donna processed what she'd been told. The female side of her was hoping that Ronnie had encountered and killed him. How horrible for her to have to face him again. This was their entire fault. Bill felt a pull thinking how sad he would be if Molly ever ran away. He said he would want to know. It is very possible that information did get Michael Gibbs killed. The law enforcement officer inside her knew there were other ways to deal with situations like this and a man like Michael Gibbs should be rotting in a prison. Rape victim or not, Veronica Gibbs had no right to take justice in to her own hands if that is what happened. Donna felt a weight in her stomach. Her partner was right and Donna hated when Bill was right. She was going to have to go back out to the desert.