J.M.J.

Chapter XIV

Wednesday, May 5

Day Five

December 12, 1993. August 28, 1975. May 15, 1998. Frank stared at the ceiling of the hotel room he was sharing with his father and brother as he mulled over the three dates they had been given so far. They seemed so random. He was even beginning to doubt whether the Tara Michaels case had anything to do with anything. The killer could have targeted his first victim in the '90s, but certainly not the '70s, so what was this guy trying to do with the dates? Was he just pulling random ones out of a hat and laughing as the Hardys tried to make sense out of it? Or did the dates have some actual significance? What could the killer have been doing way back in 1975, though, besides possibly being born?

Frank suddenly sat up. "Hey, Joe, I've got an idea."

"What?" Joe asked, eager for an idea of any kind, since he was completely out of them.

"Maybe August 28, 1975 is the day the killer was born. Birth records in Massachusetts are public record in most circumstances, so…"

"So we can get the names everyone born in Southport on August 28, 1975," Joe finished. "That's a great idea! Unless the killer wasn't actually born in Southport."

"It's a place to start, anyway." Frank grabbed his smartphone and began searching for the state office to contact for the information. Within a few minutes, he had found it and placed the call.

The employee he spoke with was helpful, but she insisted that it would take a few days to process the request. After explaining a little more than he wanted to about the case, Frank managed to convince her to send him just the names in a registered letter that day.

Fenton came into the room just as Frank was hanging up the phone, and the boys told him what they had done. Fenton nodded approvingly.

"Good thinking. We might get lucky. Let's go on down to police headquarters. I arranged a meeting with Chief Osmund this morning, after we learned yesterday that he was the lead investigator in the Tara Michaels case. He might be able to remember something that can help us."

"Dad, what if that case is just a coincidence?" Frank asked. "Maybe the killer meant something else that happened that day."

"Or worse," Joe added. "What if he's trying to distract us by getting us to investigate that case and leave Iola's case alone?"

"They're both possible," Fenton admitted. "All right. So what do you fellows suggest we do instead?"

Frank and Joe glanced at one another. Their dad was right. Tara Michaels may or may not be connected with Iola, but if they continued to sit around and think, they might not come up with anything at all, and they certainly wouldn't come up with anything that would have more certainty of being a good lead.

Less than an hour later, the Hardys were seated in Chief Osmund's office. He had shaken hands with each of them, telling the boys that he was glad to meet them. Nevertheless, there was a strain in his manner.

"So," he said finally, drawing the word out slightly. "You want to know about the Tara Michaels case. I'm not sure what there is left to know. I understand Durant already let you look through the files."

"That's right." Fenton let nothing in his voice or face reveal that he had caught the guardedness in Osmund's manner. He knew that Frank and Joe had noticed it from the way Joe tensed ever so slightly and Frank scratched his forehead to hide his momentary surprise.

"Well, if you've seen the files, I don't think there's anything more I can tell you. That was a long time ago, and there's probably more in those files than what I remember."

"No doubt we'd jog your memory if we showed you the parts of the files that we have questions about," Fenton said.

Osmund hesitated, and then he let out a sigh. "Look, I know your reputation, Mr. Hardy. I've also heard a lot about your boys here. I had some thoughts of trying to politely persuade you to leave this one be, but I can see that's not going to work. That just leaves me with the direct approach."

"Are you trying to hide something from us, Chief?" Joe asked, his voice edged with suspicion.

"No, as a matter of fact, I'm trying to save you from wasting a lot of time and doing something you're going to regret if you're anywhere near as dedicated to justice as your reputation makes you."

"I'm not sure I follow," Fenton said.

Osmund tapped his fingertips together as he obviously tried to think how best to answer this without saying too much. "Just because the Michaels case has long-since gone cold, that doesn't mean that we made no progress on the case. Without telling you anything more, I can guarantee you that we're not dealing with the same killer in both cases. Actually, there is one other thing I can tell you, but it must never be repeated. I am still hoping to bring Tara Michaels' killer to justice, and you will prevent that from happening if you interfere."

Even Fenton couldn't completely hide his surprise at this blunt statement. Joe didn't try to hide his.

"Usually when we get involved in a case, we don't let the culprit get away," he stated, his voice cold.

"You're just going to have to trust me on this," Osmund said.

"How can you guarantee that it's a different guy?" Frank asked. "Even if you know who killed Tara Michaels…"

"I never said that," Osmund interrupted.

"No, but I think that's what you're hinting at," Frank replied. "Even if you do, how do you know this isn't the same person? The only way you could is if the guy was dead, but he obviously isn't if you're worried about him getting away."

"You're just going to have to trust me," Osmund repeated.

"Look, Chief," Fenton said, "what happened to Tara Michaels was a tragedy and whoever is responsible deserves to be brought to justice. But it's too late to save her. It might not be too late to save Iola Morton. There is a very good possibility that there's some clue to Iola's disappearance in Tara's case, even if it's not the same culprit. We can't afford to ignore that possibility."

"It's not as good of a possibility as you think," Osmund insisted. "I don't know why the kidnapper gave you that date as a clue. It's either a coincidence or, if he is referring to the Michaels case, he's trying to throw you off, because there's no possible way the two cases could be connected. Now, if you don't mind, I'm very busy. Since they won't be any help to you, I've instructed Durant to put those Michaels files away again. If there's anything else you need, he'll help you with it. I've told him to keep focused on the Morton case for now."

Recognizing a dismissal when they were given one, the Hardys left the office, all in very different moods than had been in when they arrived there.

"What does that Osmund guy think he's trying to do?" Joe said as soon they were in the car. He was practically seething. "He's got to be hiding something."

"Dad, what are the chances he's the one who killed Tara Michaels?" Frank asked.

"The thought crossed my mind, too," Fenton admitted. He stared thoughtfully through the windshield at the police station. "But I don't think he is. I think he knows who did it but he doesn't have the evidence."

"Forbidding anyone from working on the case is a funny way to gain evidence," Joe muttered with arms folded over his chest.

"Yeah, unless…" Fenton rubbed his chin. "Unless it's someone who could get Osmund in trouble."

"What are you thinking, Dad?" Frank asked.

"I think we need to talk to Durant again. But it needs to be somewhere private." Fenton took out his phone and called Durant, asking him to meet the Hardys for lunch.

HBHBHBHBHB

There weren't many restaurants in Southport and most of the ones there weren't fit to eat at, so the Hardys and Durant bought sandwiches at a grocery store and sat at a picnic table in one of the parks to eat. Frank noted that the grass didn't appear to have been mowed yet that season, despite needing it, and that there were even still dead leaves from last fall on the ground.

"Looks like the park could use some upkeep," Fenton commented, obviously noticing the same thing.

Durant looked around and nodded. "Sure could, but the city has practically taken all funding away from the parks. They try to get volunteer initiatives to keep them cleaned up, but it's hard to find people willing to donate so much time."

"Is absolutely everything in this town underfunded?" Joe asked.

"Everything that the city is responsible for." There was an edge to Durant's voice. "Oh, except for the city council's salaries, of course. We wouldn't want to underpay them for their important work. Anyway, I doubt you wanted to talk to me about the shape of our city parks."

"Actually, in a way, I did," Fenton said. "How long have things been this way?"

"Ever since our esteemed Mayor Hodgefield got his claws into the city council. He was a councilman for quite a few years before he became mayor and he's been mayor for, oh, fifteen years at least."

"So he probably got onto city council in the early '90s?" Fenton asked.

"Yeah, probably somewhere in there. Of course, back when there were a few respectable people on the council, he couldn't do as much harm, but anyone he couldn't corrupt, he pushed out and it's been downhill ever since."

"Why does he keep getting elected if he does such a terrible job?" Frank asked.

"I guess for the same reason that politicians are always getting reelected: because no one decent runs against them. Every once in awhile, someone will try, but Hodgefield specializes in smear campaigns and buying votes."

"Being employed by the city, isn't it risky to air your views so publicly?" Fenton asked.

Durant narrowed his eyes slightly. "What's this about? I thought you were investigating that serial killer. What does the mayor have to do with that?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Fenton said. "How hard does Hodgefield keep his thumb on Chief Osmund?"

"Oh." Durant crossed his arms. "What makes you think Hodgefield is the reason Osmund pulled the Michaels files?"

"It's just an idea. He talked to us about it, and I think he's gotten pressure from somewhere to keep us off that case."

"I don't," Durant said. "Let's not play games with each other here. Hodgefield gave Osmund the promotion to chief of police. I suppose Osmund has some kind of loyalty to him, but Hodgefield doesn't own him. Hodgefield has tried to meddle in police affairs before and Osmund has always stood up to him. If anything…" He paused abruptly.

"Go on," Fenton encouraged him.

"Nothing," Durant said. "I shouldn't say too much."

The conversation was cut short by Durant's phone ringing. He did more listening than talking in the brief conversation.

"I've got to go," he said, ending the call. "We've just had a dead body report."

Joe's face paled. "Not…"

"No, it's not your friend," Durant assured him. "It's a male. We can finish this talk some other time."

HBHBHBHBHB

Callie pulled the collar of her coat up as she walked back to her apartment. It wasn't really cold out, but she felt a chill nonetheless. It was weird to be back on campus now. She was starting to think it might have been a mistake. She could hardly keep her mind on studying, knowing that Iola was still not safe. And even though she knew that she probably wasn't in any danger, she didn't feel safe with Frank away. Still, there wasn't much she could do. The Hardys were short on leads and long on people willing to follow them up. On the other hand, Callie had finals just next week. The best use of her time, so it had seemed, was to try to focus on school.

She was nearly to her apartment when her phone buzzed. She took it out of her pocket to look at the text that had just come in and stopped walking when she read it. It said it was from Iola, but it was only a single date: April 16, 2004.

If Callie had felt cold before, it was even worse now. She took off at a run and didn't stop until she was inside her apartment and had the door locked behind her. Then, her hands shaking, she called Frank's number.

Author's note: Thank you once again for reading and especially for reviewing! Yay! I got a chapter out faster than usual. It's a little shorter than usual, but then the chapters in this book have for the most part been longer than I had expected them to be.