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Chapter 9: The Dark Before
Part 1: Sam
“We need more information on Oliver Isolah,” Sam muttered.
“Working on that,” Vic waved his phone. “Let’s head to the station.”
“What about the truck?” Sam asked. He wanted to feel like they were moving forward, not backward. Or sideways. Or just north, to the station, unless that was where Sophie went.
“The tech guys can do a far better job of tracking the truck than a random foot search. It’s the 21st century,” Vic chuckled.
Okay, Sam deserved that. He was leading with his heart, not his head. When he had climbed into his car to follow Vic towards the station, he spent the drive in prayer. He needed a wisdom he did not possess, a patience he had never known, and God was the only one who could provide those things.
Much as he wanted to feel like a changed – or at least refreshed – man, walking into the station felt like a death knell. Jesus, guide me and give me your strength.
Thankfully, Vic took the lead with what needed to happen next. Sam trailed him, taking in everything as Vic spoke to various people. The tech department got to work digging for information on the car. A random officer who hadn’t left for patrol yet started collecting details on Oliver James Isolah. Vic updated Lt. Lehrer, who mercifully allowed Sam to stay involved, even though it was his girlfriend who was missing.
Kidnapped, actually.
Somehow, admitting the truth in his own mind brought Sam equal measures of terror and peace. He was frightened for Sophie, in a way he had never been before. He’d never had a personal stake in a case like this, nor had he seen the background of a kidnapping case. But he also felt at peace, knowing Sophie was in God’s hands. He would do anything within his power, and encourage those around him in the same, to bring her home safe and sound. At the end of the day, though, God was in control.
Unfortunately, everything moved far too slowly for his taste. He tried to tell himself to hold onto that feeling so he could later empathize with other victim’s families.
Families…
“Vic?” he asked as the man stepped away from yet another conversation. It seemed like so many spinning plates.
“Yup,” Vic replied, not looking up from whatever he was frantically typing with his thumbs.
“Should we notify her family?” Sam asked. He felt like he should know protocol on this, but either he hadn’t learned or it had totally slipped his mind.
“Not yet. Even though Lehrer is calling it a kidnapping, we only have one eyewitness with insufficient testimony to confirm it was Sophie being put in that truck. We’ll issue an alert, but a slender woman in jeans and a baggy blue sweatshirt covers a whole lot of people, even in this county,” Vic explained.
Sam nodded. “What can I do?”
“Get Miller a good picture of Sophie,” Vic pointed absently in the direction of the officer he named. “He’ll put out an alert and have the techs start scanning any public access camera footage he can find.”
“Do we have any of those in town?” Sam would be surprised if they did.
“No, but Madison does.”
45 minutes away. Sam shuddered to think of her in the huge city with only a kidnapper for a companion. She was a small town girl, and her trusting heart showed. She’d struggle so much there.
Sam shook off his worry and headed over to Miller, easily sharing a snapshot of Sophie and answering the man’s questions about her appearance, full name, and date of birth. He watched the man craft and electronically distribute an alert for Sophie and the tiny amount of information they had on the man who had taken her.
“Vic?” The officer who had been researching Oliver – a young man in his third year on the force, Chase Lowden – called out.
“Comin’!” Vic replied, still typing furiously. Sam got to Chase’s desk first.
“Whatcha got?” Vic prompted.
“Oliver Isolah, age 38. Born and raised in Madison, worked there until his company downsized two years ago. He’s been here ever since, working at the hospital in maintenance. No spouse, not much on social media except chatter about what appears to be a group organizing flash mobs,” Chase recited.
“Flash mobs?” Vic raised a brow.
“Yeah, you know. Random dances and stuff,” Chase shrugged. He pulled up a few pictures of people in masks mid-stride. “He refers to someone called the ‘Dragoness’ several times. It appears a woman leads the group.”
“I saw them,” Sam blurted. “In the town square, when I was on a date with Sophie. But no one was wearing that mask.” He pointed to a person wearing a fitted multicolored mask with a dragon’s tail.
“Hmm,” Vic murmured, staring at the photo Chase had pulled up with narrowed eyes. “Any connection to Sophie?”
“None that I’ve found yet,” Chase replied almost apologetically.
“What about church? Any sign he’s Christian? Sophie was going to Resurrection here for a while,” Sam supplied.
“Nothing to indicate either way,” Chase frowned, “but I’ll keep digging.”
Suddenly radios all around him erupted – shots fired at the Maple building. A few of the officers present, including Miller, sprang into action and were out the door in seconds. Sam looked around for Vic and saw him running for the door.
“Want me to tag along?” he asked.
“Stay here!” Vic yelled, running backwards. “Go over to dispatch and start screening any info that comes in. I’ll keep you posted!”
Sam waved him off, then headed down a hall and through a connecting door to the dispatch center. Williamson was just big enough to have their own. The city had been smart enough to construct a building in three sections: police services on the right, dispatch in the middle, and the fire station to the left. City hall was right across the street. Sam liked the community feel and the ease of working together.
Now, he just hoped that ease would translate into quick answers. He greeted the first dispatcher he saw, then headed towards Suze McCane. Suze had been a dispatcher since before Sam was born. Now a shift supervisor, she excelled at keeping a cool head and connecting the right people.
“Officer Harrison!” she greeted him cheerfully. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Sam shook her hand, but couldn’t bring himself to smile back. “I’m here to keep tabs on any information that comes in regarding Sophie Lane.”
A flicker of sorrow crossed Suze’s face before she got to action.
“Headset,” she announced, handing him a corded headset with a microphone attached to her computer. “You can listen in on any calls. Button on your right ear turns on your mic.” She demonstrated with her own headset.
“Has anyone called yet?” he asked.
“Nothing so far,” Suze shook her head.
Sam’s phone pinged a text from Vic.
Two shooters already in custody – Pritchard & Wic.
Any sign of Sophie?
Wic swears he didn’t touch her, no sign of her, Pritchard isn’t talking at all.
Dread curled in Sam’s gut. Either the drug dealers were lying – a good possibility – or Sophie’s stalker had taken her. God, grant us all wisdom, he prayed.