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Author's note: This book is PG for language, sex references, drug references, adult themes, and violence.
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Chapter One
Michigan, 1974
The swirling mists came off the savage road in Michigan. Frank Masterton smoked a cigarette, as the fiery embers burned his right, middle, finger. 'Damn', he said. He was reminded of Kelly Margaret Kent, his ex-girlfriend. She was a model in London, England; she was more interested in her fashion career, than him. The telephone rang.
'Frank'.
'Yes'.
'It's Donald Case'.
'What's going on?', he asked him.
'Carolyn is missing. She was going to school. There's been several disappearances lately. It's getting on my nerves. Anne is beside herself'.
'I'll come to your house. See you in ten minutes' time. Good bye!'.
'Good bye!'. And he placed the telephone back on the cradle in the warm hallway of his house.
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Frank arrived at the house.
He was thinking about the time in which Tod Aaron Post, his neighbor, was having a heart attack on the driveway back in nineteen sixty-nine, after exercising. The ambulance had arrived, but he was dead on arrival. He was only thirty-one. He glanced at the dreary black clouds above his head. The imminent threat of a humid Michigan storm battered the fragile coast; a storm that savaged the houses in the city.
He saw Donald was pale.
'She was supposed to be here for her birthday'.
'Do you think there's a link to the murders?', Frank asked him.
'America has a lot of serial kidnappers, and murderers, Frank. Everyone is feeling terrible about these deaths', Donald answered. He watched the sun vanish along the birch trees, as he broke down and cried.
'It's going to be fine. I'll call 9-1-1'.
Frank called.
'Who do you need, Sir?', a girl asked him.
'Police. There's a girl missing. Name is Frank Masterton', he answered.
'Putting you through to the lead Detective on the case', the girl said.
'Thank you', Frank said.
There was a slight pause before the African-American detective was on the telephone.
'Detective Markham'.
'Yes, I'm Frank Masterton. My neighbor, Donald Case, has a missing daughter. Her name is Carolyn Case. She is fifteen'.
'What's your phone number?'.
'555-555-5673'.
The detective grabbed a pen, and wrote it down.
'She's not a runaway. No drug problems; no family problems'.
'No. You can talk to Donald about his teenage daughter'.
'Fine. Thank you for calling us. Good bye!'.
'Good bye, Detective'.
And Frank ended the telephone call.
Then he talked to Donald about going to the Police Station in Michigan.
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Frank went to the Men's Restroom.
He was hungry now.
'I got to leave', Donald said.
'Be safe', Frank said.
'Thank you. Send my love to your wife. If you need anything, let me know'. Donald nodded, as Frank ordered a taxi to take him home.
The heavy rain fell outside, and the beginning of the crimes had started.
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