Chapter Twenty-Two

Clouds floated lazily across the sky, allowing rays of sunlight to drift intermittently across the SUV's dashboard. The thunderstorms had moved out of the area late last night. Given that the storm front had taken with it the humidity, there was a slight chill that lingered in the morning air.

Sylvie had dropped Theo off at the hospital around twenty minutes ago. Theo had wanted to obtain security footage of the hospital's elevator banks that served the ICU. While the recordings would be forwarded to Bit for further analysis, Theo preferred to examine the three-day footage himself to quickly ascertain if any of the suspects they had on their list had attempted to visit Sheila Wallace.

"Damn it," Sylvie muttered as she stared down at the tablet in her hands.

She had read through the case files that Fred Dawkins had emailed her the other day. As a matter of fact, she had gone over them multiple times, but she was just now noticing that a page had been left out of Mitch Swilling's file. Just to make sure that she wasn't missing a specific section of Mitch's history somewhere, she closed out the document and gently pressed the screen to regain access.

There was no denying that the file wasn't complete.

Sylvie glanced out the passenger side window. She was currently parked outside of Andrea Simpson's residence. Sylvie's intention was to locate Mitch Swilling. The only one who had that information was Andrea, but Sylvie would prefer to be armed with as much information as possible.

With a sigh of resignation, Sylvie reached into her purse. She had already turned the engine off, so her phone was no longer connected to the Bluetooth. She exited the document once more to access Fred Dawkins' contact information. Once it was on the screen, she pressed the corresponding numbers.

Holding the phone to her ear, she listened to the dull, repetitive ring. After several peals, she was met with Dawkins' voicemail. Sylvie kept the irritation from her voice as she explained the situation. She disconnected the line after requesting that he email her the missing documents as soon as possible.

With no immediate way to fill in the blanks, Sylvie tucked her tablet into her purse. She pulled the key from the ignition, secured the strap of her purse over her shoulder, and stepped out of the SUV. Just in case Fred called back, she kept ahold of her phone as she shut the driver's side door.

The suburban neighborhood was quiet this time of the morning. Not even the distant hum of a lawnmower could be heard in the distance. Sylvie walked up the driveway, toward the thin pathway that led to the front door. She raised her hand and knocked firmly.

After a few seconds, Sylvie could hear the shuffle of footsteps. The inner door opened, revealing Andrea Simpson. They might have been separated by the flimsy barrier of a screen door, but it was impossible to miss the way the woman tensed and became wary at the sight of her visitor.

"Ms. Deering. What are you doing back here?"

"I need to speak with you about Mitch Swilling." Sylvie opened the screen door, not wanting to give Andrea the chance to slam the door shut. "I have some follow-up questions for him, but we can't seem to locate him. Do you happen to know where he is staying?"

Andrea regarded Sylvie for a long moment before she released her hold on the doorknob. She opened the inner door wider, motioning for Sylvie to enter the house.

"Why do you want to speak with Mitch?" The wariness in Andrea's tone suggested that she had invited Sylvie inside to collect more information. It wasn't all that hard to detect the edge in her tone…a protective one at that. "I'm sure I can answer anything that you need to know from back then."

Sylvie stepped over the threshold. The faint odor of cigarette smoke still lingered in the air, but the smell took a backseat to the burnt scent of toast. She didn't see any sign of food in the living room, though.

"You love him." Sylvie normally wouldn't have made such an assumption, but Andrea wasn't going to give up Mitch's location without good reason. Even then, there was a good chance that Sylvie left here without an address. "Don't you?"

Andrea crossed her arms as she stood near the couch. She didn't reply, but she also didn't meet Sylvie's knowing stare. There was only one avenue left for Sylvie, so she took it.

"Have you been watching the news lately? Keeping up on current events?" Sylvie asked before taking a seat in the same chair as she had on her previous visit. She set her purse in the same spot, only she kept her phone in her hand. "Three women named Mary Jane Reynolds have been murdered over the course of seven months. All of them resided in the state of Michigan. You see, a woman by the name of Mary Jane Reynolds was the recipient of Sheila Wallace's heart. Unfortunately, the killer wasn't privy to which Mary Jane Reynolds was the actual recipient. He has taken it upon himself to kill every single woman with that name until finds his target…all to ensure that her heart stops beating."

"And you think Mitch murdered those women?" Andrea's features lost all color. Her response indicated that she had heard about the three previous murders, but she hadn't connected them to Sheila. If Mitch was their unsub, he hadn't mentioned the name Mary Jane Reynolds to Andrea. "Mitch isn't a killer. I don't know why you would believe he is capable of murdering someone, but you're wrong."

"Andrea, someone doesn"t want Sheila"s heart to beat any longer," Sylvie stressed as she pushed a little harder. "I'm not accusing Mitch of being that person, but I do need to speak with him. Mitch made some previous claims about Sheila, but Fred Dawkins indicated that the stories were embellished at the time. All I want to do is verify the information that I received from social services."

"What claims? Because I don't believe that Mitch would have said anything that the rest of us didn't say back then," Andrea protested as she lowered her arms and finally sat on the couch. "Sheila had strict rules. As long as we adhered to them, she let us be. She didn't care what we did or where we went, as long as we followed her house rules. As we told you the other day, there were worse places to be. We all grew up and went our own way. None of us are capable of murder, though."

The room seemed to contract around them. They were at a crossroads. It didn't appear that Andrea was going to give up Mitch's location, but Sylvie wasn't ready to walk away just yet. She needed some time to think of another approach.

"Would you mind getting me some water?" Sylvie asked with a small smile, attempting to ease the tension in the room. "I'd also like to use your bathroom, if you don't mind."

"Sure," Andrea replied as she stood from the couch. She gestured toward the small hallway in front of the foyer. "Through there. I'll be in the kitchen."

"Thank you."

Sylvie advanced across the living room, noting that the small hallway most likely led to the kitchen from the other side. Andrea, on the other hand, had walked directly through the living and underneath the arch, disappearing from view. Sylvie didn't need the facilities, but she did use the time to wash her hands in the bathroom sink. Doing so gave her time to think of another way to obtain Mitch's current location.

As Sylvie exited the bathroom, she retraced her steps toward the living room. She hesitated when she spotted a small, thin latch underneath the staircase. Coming to a stop, she inspected what at first appeared to be a wall, the kind with white wooden panels that followed the sharp incline of the staircase. Only this wall had what appeared to be a small door. Since the latch had been painted white, the metal had blended into the background.

Sylvie hesitated, compelled to find out what was behind the wooden panels. She certainly didn't have a warrant to search the premises, but she had also been invited inside. In all likelihood, Andrea used the space as a storage area for additional rolls of toilet paper and extra hand towels.

"What are you doing?"

Sylvie glanced to her left, but she hadn't been startled by Andrea's appearance. The soles of her shoes could be heard crossing the kitchen tile. In her hand was a glass of ice water.

"I could lie and tell you that I was admiring the wooden paneling, but I won't." Sylvie had been given her answer as to what was behind the panels from Andrea's horrified reaction. "What's behind this door, Andrea? What will I find if I open—"

"Get out," Andrea yelled, not noticing that water had spilled over the rim of the glass. "Get out! Now!"

"I'll leave, Andrea." Sylvie kept her voice calm and even. "If that's what you would like, I'll collect my purse and leave. You should know that I will submit for a search warrant, though. You can either show me what is behind this door now or I'll be back in a few hours."

Everything the team had uncovered thus far led back to Sheila Wallace. This home had been her residence. Had Andrea Simpson not reacted in such a panicked manner, Sylvie might have returned to the living room to continue their conversation.

"You're going to assume the worst, and you won't believe me after…"

Andrea shook her head before disappearing around the corner. She was still visibly upset. Sylvie waited a moment longer, releasing the tension in her shoulders when Andrea came back into view sans the glass of water.

"I will listen to you, Andrea," Sylvie murmured in reassurance as Andrea came to a stop a few steps away. "Whatever you have to tell me, I promise to listen without reservation. In turn, I need you to trust me that I'm not accusing Mitch of any wrongdoing. I just need his help in clarifying some statements he made when he was younger."

"None of us are capable of murder."

Andrea was still in denial.

Sylvie couldn't say one way or another that the woman was wrong, but motive played a vital part in this investigation. Typically, serial killers had signatures, targeted specific victims, and couldn't bring themselves to stop. The unsub in this case was fueled by a goal. Once that goal was achieved, the unsub would blend back into the woodwork, never to be seen or heard from again.

Andrea finally nodded her consent. Sylvie slowly reached out to turn the small knob. It wasn't easy to get the latch to budge. As a matter of fact, Sylvie had to apply a lot of pressure for the bolt to release, suggesting that the space hadn't been used for quite some time.

Sylvie pulled the door open, and the height of it didn't even reach her chest. There didn't seem to be a light switch, so Sylvie lifted her phone and pressed the flashlight button on the display. The beam sliced through the darkness.

Nausea hit the back of her throat.

"It's not what it looks like," Andrea exclaimed, stepping forward until Sylvie shot her a warning glance. "It isn't. We told you the truth. Sheila didn't physically abuse us in any way. That alcove was just used as a time-out. A reminder that if we didn't follow her rules, we could be sent somewhere worse."

"Mental abuse is just as bad as physical abuse, Andrea."

The walls bore the scars of desperate expressions—drawings that told stories of sorrow and solitude. In the corner lay a tattered blanket, a stained pillow, and an old flashlight. Battery acid could be seen staining the side of the yellow plastic. The items were the remnants of a childhood prison.

"Answer me this, Andrea," Sylvie implored as she took pictures of the small space with her phone. She uploaded them to the firm's software, which would then send an alert to the team that images had been added to the case file. "Who spent the most time in there?"

Sylvie didn't need Andrea to respond, but forcing the woman to open her eyes to reality was paramount. The question hung between them until Andrea swiped at the tears that threatened to fall.

"Mitch, but you already knew that," Andrea responded bitterly. "He didn't murder anyone. He and Tyler were the only ones who never left me. I would know if one of them was capable of murder."

"Why haven't you cleaned that room out, Andrea?"

"Because it's easier to pretend it never existed," Andrea practically whispered as she stepped forward and slammed it shut. "Mitch promised to help me fix up the place. It's one of the reasons that he is back in town, but he said he had to take care of something first. I'm assuming that it has to do with one of his brothers."

"Brothers?"

Sylvie suddenly realized what information had been missing from Mitch Swilling's file. While there was a section that explained Mitch's family history and how he came to be placed in foster care, the facts listed had been sparse. Mitch's mother had died of an overdose, and his father had been sent to prison for armed robbery.

"Ricky and Carl," Andrea replied as she brushed past Sylvie. "Ricky lives with his girlfriend in the apartment building near Wurster Park. Mitch usually stays with them when he's in town, which isn't often."

Sylvie was left to follow Andrea back into the living room. Since the federal field office was slammed with several cases and Agent Tirelli taking the lead on the Reggie Hollins' angle, she had yet to receive all the background checks on the foster children who would currently be in their late twenties or early thirties.

"And Carl?"

"I have no idea. Mitch hasn't mentioned him in years."

Andrea didn't take a seat. It was her way of letting Sylvie know that their conversation had finally come to an end. Sylvie collected her purse and walked toward the front entrance. She paused when her hand was on the handle.

"I got the sense that Tyler didn't know Mitch was in town. Why keep that information from Tyler if the three of you are so close?"

Andrea broke eye contact as she leaned down to pick up her cell phone from the coffee table. Sylvie was certain that Mitch would know to expect her within the next thirty minutes.

"I think I've already said enough," Andrea said as she began to close the distance between them. "You should leave now."

Sylvie gave a curt nod before pushing open the screen door and exiting the house. She had Theo on the line before ever reaching the driver's side door of the SUV.

"Can you wrap things up at the hospital?"

"Yes," Theo responded over low murmurs of conversations in the background. "I take it you found Mitch Swilling's location?"

"Even better," Sylvie stated as she settled in behind the steering wheel. She had already checked her surroundings upon walking down the short driveway, but she gave the area additional scrutiny before starting the engine. "We have two new suspects to add to our suspect list."