“What do you think we’ll find?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. She then recited the line from Howard’s latest letter, hoping that it was also true of Heather Ellis and could help them save her before it was too late. “Because we dwell on what we fear the most.”
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Avery was not at all surprised to find that Heather Ellis was not at home. She lived in an apartment in a three-story building. When Avery and Kellaway arrived, people had started to wake up and get ready for their days. Some were even heading out of the door, perhaps hoping to get to work a little early. It was a reminder to Avery that sometime in the next few hours she should be getting a call from Rose, asking her to come pick her up from the hospital.
And if this case keeps going on all cylinders like this, Avery thought, I won’t be able to make it. Dammit…
The door to the apartment was not locked. And being that there was no one home and the woman that lived here was suspected missing or abducted, that was an automatic red flag to Avery.
Inside, Heather’s apartment was a cute little space that looked like something off of a minimalist’s blog. And because it was so well kept and tidy, it was easy to see the signs of a recent struggle. A glass vase had been toppled from the small coffee table; it had not shattered but had fallen securely on the plush rug under the table. A pair of bedroom slippers was scattered across the living room, one by the front door and one beside the little counter that ran along the course of the kitchen.
A laptop sat on a small decorative desk on the other side of the living room. While it was password protected, there was a picture on the lock screen that perhaps proved that Heather Ellis was indeed trying to overcome her fear. It showed a shirtless man with shaggy hair cliff diving off of some picturesque cliff. The production quality of the picture told Avery that it was not a personal picture, but one Heather had likely found online somewhere.
They checked the rest of the apartment for any indication of where Barry Kechner might have taken her. She seriously doubted that he’d take her to some exotic location to go cliff diving and Boston didn’t really offer such attractions.
In Heather’s bedroom, there was a small drawing desk where several sketches and impressive pastel drawings had been done. She saw meadows and trees done in pastel, as well as what looked like a woman in a dress, from the waist down. One of the drawings was a very well-done representation of a bridge, partially obscured by fog and mist. Over the desk was a frame made of pallet board with scarred wood on the inside. Within the frame was a quote, done in an elegant and trendy type of lettering.
The quote read:
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
– Frank Herbert
“That bridge,” Kellaway said, nodding to the pastel drawing. “You know what it is, right?”
Avery looked back to it and realized that she did know what it was. She’d thought it looked familiar the first time she had looked at it but had been too busy looking for something a little more obvious.
“Tobin Bridge,” she said. And on the heels of that, Howard again: We dwell on what we fear the most.
“That’s the tallest bridge in the city, right?” Kellaway asked.
“And Heather Ellis is afraid of heights.”
Before the last comment was out of her mouth, Avery pulled out her phone. With Finley and Connelly out of commission for the time being, she pulled up O’Malley’s number.
“Hey, Black,” O’Malley said. “Why did you not call me about Connelly before now? He’s going to—”
“O’Malley, I need you to reach out to the city and get a shitload of people together right now. We have to close down Tobin Bridge.”
“What? Are you insane?”
Avery and Kellaway were already out of Heather’s apartment and heading back down the stairs. Avery’s voice jostled a bit with each stair she took. “I can almost guarantee you that’s where the killer has taken his latest victim, Heather Ellis. I don’t know how long he holds on to them before he kills them, but maybe…”
“Maybe there’s a chance,” O’Malley said. “You sure about this, Black?”
“Just do it,” she nearly snapped into the phone.
When they were back in their car, Avery peeled out into morning traffic, beeping her horn at the starting surge of morning traffic.
“You think she’s still alive?” Kellaway asked.
Avery thought of Lawnbrook, killed by spiders. Of Abby Costello, tossed into a secluded section of Jamaica Pond, and of Janice Saunders, terrified of the clowns that had abruptly showed up in her house. Each of those scenes had taken dedication and time to set up. She wondered how long Kechner had stood there and watched Abby Costello frantically trying to swim to the surface…how long he had stabbed Janice Saunders while he enjoyed her terror.
Someone like this…he might take his time. He might want to prolong things as long as he could.
“I think she might be,” Avery said.
And while it was a very faint hope, it was at least something to cling to as she weaved through traffic toward the Tobin Bridge.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
The Tobin Bridge housed six lanes of US Highway 1 and crossed over Mystic River. It was a double-deck truss bridge that sat a little more than two hundred and fifty feet over the water at its highest point. As the bridge came into view, Avery was pretty sure that anyone trying to remain at least somewhat private in their actions would stay away from the middle of the bridge where morning traffic would be at its thickest.
She knew that the deck beneath the bridge would be the most probable location for Barry Kechner to do his demented work. Doing it off of the upper deck where traffic zoomed by in the morning would be opening himself up to being caught easily. On the lower deck, he’d only have joggers and pedestrians to worry about. And given the cold weather, she doubted there would be many people out for a run or walk on the bridge this early.
It was 7:56 when she and Kellaway arrived at the Tobin Bridge. Before she was even out of the car, she saw O’Malley shouting instructions at a team of other officers and a crew from the Massachusetts Department of Transportation. They were working feverishly to block off traffic from the bridge and doing so in a way that was as subtle and non-obstructive as possible. It was a smart move; if Barry Kechner was indeed here with Heather Ellis, there was no sense in tipping him off in any way.
Avery and Kellaway rushed over to O’Malley. A look of relief flashed across his face when he saw her. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse from all of the shouting he’d been doing to be heard over the roar of morning traffic coming on and off of the Tobin Bridge.
“Any sign of him?” Avery asked.
“Yes, in fact. Two different drivers coming off of the bridge have stopped to tell us that there was a man walking along the edge, right between the rails. He had a woman with him that looked like she did not want to be with him. Seems to have been sighted just before the toll plaza. His car is pulled as far to the side as it will go. Dumbass even put his hazard lights on.”
“How long ago?” Avery asked, her heart now slamming in her chest.
“I don’t know,” O’Malley said, looking at his watch. “Maybe seven minutes ago?”
“Okay,” Avery said. “Let us in.”
She went back to her car and impatiently waited for O’Malley and his team to make way for her to enter the bridge.
“So he’s here?” Kellaway asked.