Epilogue

"Tragedy struck this morning as federal agents moved in on the man suspected of kidnapping young Angela Osborne. Miss Osborne has been the focus of an intense manhunt after she failed to show up for an appointment with officials at Arizona State University where she was to attend classes this fall. The FBI's lead investigator on the case, Special Agent Rebecca Hampton of the Bureau's Los Angeles office, was on the scene waiting for additional agents to arrive when an explosion destroyed the home of the suspected kidnapper. Agent Hampton was found unconscious but unhurt in the yard of the house across the street by a startled home owner when he came out after being awakened by the blast."

There was the obligatory interview with the man who had found Rebecca apparently unconscious in his front yard, and then the scene shifted to show firefighters still working to extinguish the burning structure as the voice went on,

"The body of an as yet unidentified female was discovered in what was left of the house. The girl's body was found handcuffed to a bench and has been taken to the county coroner's office pending the outcome of an autopsy to confirm her identity and notify relatives. Several nearby houses sustained minor damage from the initial blast but quick work by firefighters prevented the fire from spreading. Agent Hampton assured the press that the hunt for the girl's killer would go on and that she would catch the person responsible. In other news..."

Angela Osborne was dead. Only six people in the world knew differently, seven if you counted Angela herself. Her family had taken the news as well as anyone could expect. Her younger brother seemed to take it the hardest.

Amber Olsen was scheduled to be released in a week or two from the private facility near Santa Monica that had been treating her for a variety of injuries and trauma. From there she would be moved to an unknown location where she could meet with counselors to help her deal not only with the events of the last month but also to prepare her for her new life. Angela's Olympic dreams had died with her. Doctors had had to remove two toes from her left foot or risk losing the whole leg if the gangrene spread further. Even if she had kept the toes, it would still take months of therapy and training to learn to disguise the permanent limp caused by the damage to her knee. Amber had no Olympic dreams. She was just looking forward to starting college in January, after she had recovered from the automobile accident that had prevented her from starting at the beginning of the fall term. She had been wearing sandals in the accident and had lost two toes on her left foot.

Los Angeles, CA

In the Los Angeles offices of the FBI, the reality of the situation was still very much under discussion.

"We don't have a choice, Bex," Rod said. "I sent out a composite of Jimmy's description of the killer attached to a different case. Interpol tagged him. The tattoo was the clincher. He's former European intelligence of some kind, and he's been dead for five years. Or at least he was presumed dead. They won't say why they were interested in him, but they're sending someone out to talk to us. Washington has made it clear that we are going to do everything in our power to cooperate with whomever they send. You know what this means?"

"Assassin," came the reply.

"They call him 'The Sandman.' Like I said, the tattoo was the clincher. Their agent is bringing what they have, fingerprints, photos, etc., if they have DNA we should be able to match it to what we took off the girl, fingerprints too thanks to Jimmy grabbing the keyboard and syringe. He'll kill her if he finds out she's still alive."

The killer's former residence was a work of technological artistry. The room he'd kept her in, and the adjoining bathroom, where actually built inside of the originals. The walls had been layered with sound deadening material. The final step was a two inch gap between the new wall and the original. A separate white noise machine had been set up in each wall, broadcasting into the space to cancel out any stray sound waves that got through. The only avenue not completely protected was the exit by which the killer had left. The door had opened onto a short set of steps, which led to a tunnel. The tunnel led to a service junction in the drainage system under the development. From there he could have exited at any of the several manholes on the surrounding streets. The fact that the white noise could not blanket the escape route was the only thing that had allowed Angela to hear the gunshots that had helped pin down her location. The vibrations from the train passing less than a mile away had come through the ground and up through the buildings foundation. The execution had taken place in an as yet undeveloped lot not far away directly in line with the hidden door.

The home was listed as belonging to one Kenneth Riley. A well respected representative for a pharmaceutical and medical supply company. His territory included most of the southwest, including Arizona, Nevada, and California. It also explained his easy access to the drugs and other materials he had used. Kenneth Riley had moved out from the east coast four years earlier and bought the house during the first phase of construction. He hadn't been back to visit his family since he left. When they were shown Ken's California driver's license photo, his parents did not recognize him. Interpol said our killer was in his early forties; Ken Riley would turn thirty-three this summer. Neighbors knew Ken traveled a lot on business, that he was rarely home on weekends, and it seemed like he had really bad luck with his cable because there was frequently a white van parked out front. Ken's company car; a late model Oldsmobile, had not survived the explosion and fire. The contents of the trunk were still under study. There was no sign of the white van. Back tracing Ken's credit cards got the feds nowhere. Apparently Ken used cash for almost everything except his company expense account. But the expense records showed he had been in all three cities at the time the three dead girls had disappeared.

A dozen roses were delivered to the fifth floor of the federal building in downtown Los Angeles addressed to Special Agent Rebecca Hampton. When they arrived at her desk, she assumed they were from a certain teacher she had been spending a lot of time with, but then she opened the card. The next hour was spent tracking the flowers to the florist who could only say that an envelope had been slipped under his door sometime during the night containing a hundred dollar bill and instructions to deliver the enclosed card along with a dozen long stemmed roses to her office. Agents descended on the area to confiscate the envelope and the hundred as well as go through any footage that may be available from security cameras in nearby stores. The only one that may have picked up an image of the killer had mysteriously malfunctioned. There wasn't really anything wrong with it, technicians quickly confirmed that an intense light had been shined on the lens for about fifteen minutes and then everything had gone back to normal. The time stamp told them when the killer had made the drop but that was all. The note with the flowers was very short and to the point.

You are more gifted than I gave you credit for. I accept your challenge and look forward to our next encounter.

San Diego, CA

Detective Sergeant Steven Mikkelson was seeing a department psychiatrist about a string of recent nightmares that wouldn't go away and seemed to be getting both more intense and more frequent. The images of three different girls being tortured and raped had gotten so intense that he was afraid to go to sleep at night. He had tried sleeping pills, alcohol, and a combination of the two, but nothing seemed to help. A week earlier a new girl had been added to the mix. He recognized her as the Osborne girl who had been the killer's most recent victim.

San Bernardino, CA

In San Bernardino, the fictitious Raphael Swenson received twenty-five thousand dollars for the tip that had eventually led to Angela. Apparently the reward was worded for information on the whereabouts of Angela, not the arrest of her kidnapper. When the authorities officially released the news of her death, the Indian Casino had sponsored a weekend slots tournament to raise money for a reward to be paid for tips to locate her killer and bring him to justice. They wanted to post it as being for the capture or killing of, but that sounded too much like a bounty and that's just not allowed. Eventually the wording had ended up closer to "positive identification and apprehension of..." Angela's parents had been members of their player's club at the casino and her mother, tears running down her face, had pulled the lever to open the tournament. They raised a quarter of a million dollars in three days.

The FBI cashed the reward check and delivered the money to the mysterious Mr. Swenson. Eventually it would find its way into the account of a young man that did not officially exist. He planned to start looking for a much better car than he had been considering for his birthday. According to his contact at the FBI there may be other reward monies due from the previous killings. There was detailed information in the killer's computer regarding all four girls, plus others that the killer had been considering before settling on these particular girls. Once they had it all sorted out they would see.

Jimmy, Allison, and Shannon, met with 'Amber' in a cabana overlooking the ocean. Tears were shed, first in joy that Angela had survived, then in sadness at the fact that she hadn't.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way, Angela, but from what little Rebecca has told us about this guy..."

She nodded. "I know. He'll kill me if he knows I'm alive. I just wish... (sob) I just wish I could see Timmy again, just once." Jimmy took her in his arms and held her as the tears took her again.

"You will, Angela. I promise you will. This isn't forever. We're going to get this guy. There is nowhere on earth that he can hide from me. I've seen his face. I know his secrets. He has some natural protections but I've gotten through to him before. Sooner or later I'll do it again, once he's no longer a threat you can have your life back. All of it."

"Couldn't you just bring Tim here?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Angels. The killer knew about the two of you. If he suspects that we may be pulling a fast one then Tim would be the first person he would watch. Tim has to believe you're dead. I know it hurts, but at least you don't have to look at him every day, see his pain, and live a lie. I have to face him every day, and lie to him. If there were any other way..."

She turned to the girls. "Could we have a minute?"

Allison hugged her and cried on her shoulder and told her how much she would miss her. Shannon surprised us all when she ran a hand up into Amber's shoulder length hair; yeah, they'd cut it and colored it as part of changing her appearance, no more long sexy braids swaying back and forth over her ass as she walked. Shannon slid a hand up the back of her head and kissed her passionately. Angela was just as surprised as we were but she recovered quickly and kissed her back just as hard.