Page 86 of Everything She Feared

“Quarters?”

“Yeah, but they were newer ones, not old timeworn coins.”

“Really? What was going on in your mind as you investigated?”

“You first look at the facts, or the facts as we know them.”

“Which were?”

“It’s a fact the well was dug by settlers, then abandoned. Landowners are supposed to locate unused wells, seal and cap them. But along the line, other than a few planks, that wasn’t done with the Old Settlement well. So we had a dangerous well. Magda and her father told us they had no prior knowledge of the well.”

“So it was a tragic accident?”

Barlow adjusted his glasses and stroked his mustache. “I think Magda lured Nancy to her death.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Payback for the doll.”

“But she’s, what, seven years old or so, just a child?”

“We couldn’t ever prove a damn thing. Nothing came of it, so yes, on the books, it’s an accidental death.”

Barlow’s jaw tightened, he gritted his teeth and he looked off, leaving Ryan to think he was recalling those disturbing photos of Nancy.

“It’s hard for me to explain,” Barlow said.

“That’s okay.”

“When I questioned Magda, my gut told me this girl wasn’t like any other child. Something about her was not right. And now, when I think to what Magda and that husband of hers went on to do to innocent people, like your sister and her friend, I realize as I stood at that well, watching them lift Nancy Vaughan’s body from the ground, I was witnessing the birth of something monstrous.”

38

Seattle, Washington

A fourteen-year-old girlwalked Buddy, her beagle, every day on the trail through the park near her home in Olympia. On one walk she failed to secure his leash and Buddy chased a squirrel.

She couldn’t find him.

John James Smith was in the park that day and saw that the girl was upset over her dog. Smith was a stranger, but the girl had seen him in the park occasionally when she walked Buddy. Smith offered to help look for Buddy, suggesting they go in different directions. In a short time Smith said he’d found the dog and called the girl to a dense thicket.

Not seeing Buddy, or hearing panting or the jingling of his leash, the girl hesitated. But Smith urged her into the thicket, saying Buddy looked hurt. Concerned, she proceeded. When she got to it, she didn’t see Buddy. Smith pulled her to the ground.

Two female joggers, marines who’d served in Afghanistan, heard the girl’s screams. Rescuing her, they subdued Smith, fracturing several bones in the process. The women called police and paramedics. In the chaos Buddy returned to the girl and was a source of comfort as paramedics and police tended to her.

Smith was charged with assault. Olympia detectives investigating Smith linked him to other attacks where he had stalked girls, learning their routines, waiting for the chance to strike, then assaulting them in wooded areas or empty buildings and lots.

Smith was convicted and served time in prison.

Reading the report, Pierce studied Smith’s physical description again: white, six feet tall, one-hundred-eighty pounds, with a scar running over his left eye to his cheek from a victim who’d scratched him.

Looking at his photo in the offender registry, Pierce thought,Why was Smith at Sparrow Song Park at the time of Anna Shaw’s death?

Benton slowed their SUV, then said: “Here we go.”

The license plate captured by the park’s security camera matched the plate of the pickup parked on the street in Ballard.

A white 2012 Chevrolet Silverado 1500, two-door with a regular cab, belonging to John James Smith, a released inmate and registered sex offender. Pierce and Benton checked the truck’s interior.

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