Corruption, depravity, and pure, unadulterated evil lurked unseen within the dark alleys of Whipton. Hidden beneath layers of community ambiance, the cloaked adversary slipped unnoticed from the shadows to terrorize, maim, or murder the town’s citizens with no consideration to social status, age, sex, or purity of intentions. When the unwelcomed guest knocked, few survived.

************

Whipton is a small, friendly town nestled in the lush rolling hills of Illinois, near the Mississippi River. In the 1800s, one of its founding fathers, George McCallister, chose a large parcel of land to build his family home to the east of the city. As the town prospered, McCallister divided the land into large expansive lots, taking great care to preserve the towering maples that lined the cobble-stoned streets.

After McCallister’s death, his grandson, Brian McCallister, a prosperous business tycoon, discovered land value had skyrocketed. The old stately homes were deteriorating, and it proved highly profitable to sell the land to corporations, turning the area into an industrial park.

The original homestead on the hill overlooking the Mississippi became the site for Whipton High School. This afternoon, vehicles lined the massive circular drive, waiting to pick up their students. Amidst the cars, an undercover FBI team kept surveillance on a suspected drug dealer. Several agents clipped hedges and gathered trash, while others surveyed the monitors inside a landscaping box truck. Garth Woodman lowered his Stetson to shade his eyes in the parking lot across the street as he maintained a visual on his current target, Jesse Martinez.

“Tango, you got ears on this guy?” Garth barked into his mic.

“Sure do, boss. It’s loud and clear. Can’t make out who he’s been jawing with, but it’s someone with clout.” Tango cleared his throat. “Everything the other guy says seems encrypted. He’s a cautious one.”

“Probably why we haven’t uncovered his identity yet. But we will.”

“Sure adds some heat to the hunt.” Tango adjusted his headset and checked his monitors. “You know how I love everything hot and spicey, right, boss?”

“Oh, I do, Tango. The show’s about to start. The track team is rounding the corner. I trust you can stay focused on our target and not the young cuties as they bounce by your truck.” Garth chuckled as he envisioned the snarling grimace Tango made at his comment. “Let’s see if our perp is interested in any of them.”

As the track team approached, Jesse ended his phone call and leaned against the car. A toothpick bobbed between his teeth. Visions of the delectable young flesh beneath his loins torched his manhood; a bubble of drool nestled in the corner of his mouth.

Jesse pressed his hand against the front of his jeans and sighed.

Not today, my friend, not today.

He tore his eyes off the girls’ jiggling breasts and long, lean legs. Today, he was only interested in one girl and she was a beauty. Sasha McKay’s blonde ponytail swung from side to side as she jogged toward him. The high school track star didn’t have her usual strong, tight form today. Instead, she appeared tired and winded, evidence of a late night. The young athlete never ran at the back of the pack.

As they jogged by, he waited until Sasha passed in front of him and then called out her name, “Sasha.”

Without changing her rhythm, she glanced toward the voice. Not recognizing anyone, she scowled and continued jogging a few more feet.

“Sasha McKay? I’ve got a message for you.”

Sasha made an abrupt stop. The sunlight blinded her view of Jesse. She raised her hand to her brows and squinted in Jesse’s direction. Confused, she questioned him. “For me? I don’t know you.”

Jesse couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming up and down the delectable morsel. His mouth wanted to latch on to those pouty lips and devour her. He put his lusty thoughts in check.

“Congratulations on winning the meet last night. Nice job!”

“Thank you, but I still don’t know you.” Sasha turned to go. “Sorry, but I’ve got to finish my run.”

“Must have been some celebration. Too bad about the ticket.” Jesse waited for the much-expected response.

Sasha froze. “Ticket? You must have me mistaken with someone else.”

“No, afraid not, Princess.” Jesse chuckled at his clever use of her dad’s pet name for her. “Your dad is the Honorable Judge John McKay.”

“Yeah, so what?” The Princess turned into Cruella De Vil. “How’s that any of your business?”

Her waspy tone rolled off his cool facade. He’d expected worse. “I want to help you.”

“I don’t need your help. My dad will take care of anything I need.” The spoiled Princess returned.

Jesse scratched his ear. His cold, steel-blue eyes locked onto her emerald ones. “I don’t see that happening.” Jesse paused for one second before serving the main course. “You can kiss your scholarship goodbye. Daddy’s Princess will be all over the headlines. A bit humiliating since he’s been so hard on other townsfolk.”

“Listen. I have to catch up with my team. The coach will ask questions.” Sasha was sweating, and it wasn’t from the workout. She did not know who this man was, but he knew too much about her.

“Fine… I’ll be around.” Jesse stepped into the street, headed for the other side of his car. “My boss can make your problems vanish like they never happened.” He watched for her reaction.

Like a fish in search of the worm, Sasha snatched the bait. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s a friend of your dad’s, and he needs a favor.”

“A favor? What kind of favor? I’m not doing any sex stuff, so you can forget it if that’s what you have in mind. I have a boyfriend.”

“No, nothing like that.” Jesse waved his hand in the air toward the school. “Catch up with your team. I’ll be in touch. Go…”

She stared at him, shuddered, and then turned away, running at full speed to catch her teammates. She glanced over her shoulder once. But Jesse and his car had disappeared. A team of FBI agents in a black SUV followed him, keeping a safe distance behind him.

************

At the sound of the last bell, Rachel scooped up her books and hurried through the crowded hallway. Over the end-of-the-day buzz, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

“Rach, we’re having a quick meeting about the dance. Can you stay?” Sasha, the junior class president, yelled over the heads of their classmates.

“Sorry, Sasha. I’ve got something important to take care of. Call me later and fill me in, okay?” Party favors and decorations were far from Rachel’s thoughts. Instead, she’d done nothing all day but worry about her best friend, Beth. It wasn’t like her to miss class, unless-.

Dwight Culbertson was an alcoholic, a womanizer, and an abuser. Since the recent death of his wife, he’d funneled his brutal anger toward his daughter Beth. Last weekend, he’d thrown a gin bottle at her because it was empty, striking the back of her head. Fearing additional reprisal, Beth had cowered on the floor until she heard a crescendo of loud, choppy snoring from behind the bedroom door. Only then did she call Rachel for reinforcements.

Armed with a first aid kit, Rachel had rushed to Beth’s side. Together, the girls stopped the bleeding, cleaned the wound, and packed it with ice. Beth’s thick curly ponytail had hidden the lump until the swelling went down. Rachel’s pleas to seek help fell on deaf ears. Beth had nagged until she agreed to pinky swear not to tell anyone.

At the edge of the school grounds, Rachel pulled her cell phone from her book bag and hit the speed dial for Beth. The insistent ringing jarred her nerves. As she paced, she nibbled on her lip until she tasted a trickle of blood.

“Come on, Beth. Where are you? Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

Rachel ran her tongue across her lower lip, wiping the speck of blood away. An icy chill ran up her spine, and she shivered in the eighty-degree heat. Thoughts of Beth lying hurt inside the house flashed through her mind, followed by disturbing thoughts of a drunk and threatening Dwight towering over her body. Regardless of her fear, Rachel knew her search had to begin at the Culbertson house.

************

Tiny, run-down bungalows lined the narrow street. The yards were littered with trash, vehicles in need of repair, and discarded Big Wheel trikes, bikes, and forgotten toys. Unattended children darted across the street with disregard for Roberta Atwell’s moving vehicle. Suspicious of the shiny navy blue government vehicle, people glared at the two occupants as it passed by.

Virginia, a newbie on the job, fidgeted in the passenger seat. She had a nervous lilt in her voice when she spoke. “The neighbors sure don’t look welcoming, Roberta.” Her shoulders shifted away from the car window.

“You can’t blame the residents, considering last month’s raid on the wrong house. They don’t know who to trust. As far as they’re concerned, anyone from the Department of Child Services or the police department is their arch enemy.”

“Oh, wow! I didn’t realize that happened in this neighborhood.” Virginia amended her opinion and smiled at the cold, blank faces. A bike whizzed by the passenger window, and the teenage rider flipped the bird at them. A woman with a baby on her hip stood in her front yard talking to another woman. They both turned their backs to the street as the caseworkers drove by. There weren’t any signs of being welcomed in their neighborhood.

“This neighborhood or a hundred like it, it’s a tough life. Everyone’s looking for a shot at something better.” Roberta’s face softened. “Oh, since you’re going to be my sidekick, you should know my friends call me Bert.”

“Bert, it is.” Virginia laughed. “My friends call me Gigi.” 

**********

Bert eased the car to the curb. “That’s the house, right there.” She pointed at a white bungalow with green chipped shutters and a ragged awning. “Looks like the door is standing open, like someone left in a hurry.”

“What’s the story with this family?” Gigi studied the outside of the house. “The place looks like it could use some work. Are both parents in the picture?” A trace of apprehension left her feeling unsettled.

It wasn’t a new scene to Bert. Ten years of hard-luck stories, domestic abuse, and poverty prepared her for the sad state of affairs she faced when starting a fresh case. Gigi was new and skeptical. She opened the passenger door, following Bert’s lead, and joined her. Weeds and an occasional sapling sprouted from the cracks and crevices in the sidewalk. Gigi stepped over the faded hop-scotch game drawn on the sidewalk and bits of broken chalk. Like everything else, it had seen better days.

Bert sighed and shook her head. “Six months ago, the Culbertson’s had a horrific car accident. A semi tractor-trailer T-boned their vehicle out at Winnebago Corners. Reports say the driver saw them but couldn’t stop when they pulled out in front of him. The impact sent both parents through the windshield. It was Dwight Culbertson’s lucky day. He only suffered bumps and bruises, but his wife died.”

“Who was driving?” Virginia asked.

“Well, that’s where it gets tricky. Both the parents were well over the legal alcohol limit. One was deceased, and the other swore he hadn’t been behind the wheel. With no proof, the police couldn’t press charges, but they contacted us because of the insecure home environment.”

“What triggered their concern? Was the home rough?” Asking questions helped Gigi get a clearer view of the situation; at least, she hoped.

“No, not really. The house was okay, but Beth’s teacher contacted us. She had a few concerns but nothing concrete. Then, Mr. Culbertson lost his job for showing up at work drunk. We saw plenty of empty liquor bottles in the house and scattered around the tipped-over garbage cans and backyard. Downtown cut him some slack because he’d lost his wife. He left a foul taste in my mouth. I can’t say why. It was just one of those gut feelings, I guess.”

Bert and Gigi approached the dilapidated porch. The railing was missing, and the steps were splintered. Bert tested each step as she edged closer to the open door. Gigi watched but remained on the sidewalk.

Bert knocked. Not hearing a response, she leaned over the threshold and peered into the home but saw no one. She tapped again. The interior of the home was silent. Bert called out, “Mr. Culbertson, it’s Bert Atwell, your caseworker.” She listened for his response but heard nothing.

Squeezing between the flowering bushes, Virginia peered through the bay window, but the heavy drapes blocked her view. “Do you hear anything, Bert?” The branches scratched her arms, and a swarm of tiny gnats swirled around her head. Coughing and swatting the air, she retreated to the safety of the sidewalk.

“No.” She leaned into the doorway again, calling a little louder, “Mr. Culbertson, can you please come to the door? You missed your court appointment today. I must talk to you.”

When no one answered, Bert retraced her steps, joining Gigi on safer ground. Her gut told her something wasn’t right, but what? She walked to the side gate, expecting to be greeted by the Culbertson dog, Toby. It was hard to talk over his excessive barking on previous visits, but today the backyard was silent.

Amanda Stewart, the Culbertson’s next-door neighbor, relaxed in her antique rocking chair. The wooden rails squeaked against the porch floor. She sipped lemonade while cooling her sweaty brow with a colorful tropical hand-fan. Her eyes wandered toward Bert and Gigi, then darted off to gaze at her flower garden as she snuggled her tiny dog against her weathered cheek.

Bert walked to the boxed hedge that separated the properties and called out to Amanda, “Excuse me. Have you seen Mr. Culbertson today?”

The older woman pushed herself out of the chair, adjusted her rumpled housedress, and shuffled across to the porch railing. She glanced at the government car parked at the curb and then let her eyes do a quick assessment of the two women. Her facial expression registered distrust.

Bert offered a warm, friendly smile, hoping to break Amanda’s icy look. “We were wondering if you’d seen Mr. Culbertson. He doesn’t answer, and his door is standing open.”

A cold blank stare was Bert’s answer.

The woman’s rudeness shocked Gigi. She attempted to appear neighborly. “Cute dog. What’s his name?”

“Tiny don’t care for strangers.” Amanda snuggled his face. “It’s his dinner time.” She turned and opened the screen door. Before disappearing into the safety of her home, she looked at Bert and snapped, “I mind my business, and he minds his.” The door slammed behind her.

“So much for that.” Gigi shook her head in disbelief. “I know she’s gawking at us behind those curtains.”

“I’m sure she is.” Bert checked her watch. “Let’s stand in the shade. Dwight’s daughter, Beth should be home from school soon. It’s been a rough time for a sixteen-year-old. Maybe she can tell us what’s going on.”

“What’s the girl say?”

“There lies the problem. She doesn’t say much of anything. I tried to ask her about things, but she denies it. She’s still grieving the loss of her mother, so I didn’t push too hard. My concern level is still very high, though.” As she looked down the sidewalk, she spied Beth and a friend. “Matter of fact, there’s our girl now.”

**********

Rachel wrapped her arms around her torso and collapsed on the grass. Her breath was ragged as she sucked in the fresh air. Grabbing a bottle of water from her backpack, she swallowed several gulps, satisfying her dry mouth. Her brisk walk had taken a toll on her out-of-shape body. Her thoughts had been on Beth, and she hadn’t realized how briskly she’d been walking, nothing like the girls’ leisurely stroll, sharing the day’s gossip.

A small rock sailed past Rachel’s shoulder and landed on the sidewalk. Startled, Rachel jumped to her feet and looked around the vacant lot. She didn’t see anyone. Another rock whizzed past her and dropped in the grass. Someone was there.

Rachel’s cell phone rang, and she pulled it out of her pocket. Recognizing Beth’s picture, she answered, “Beth, where are you?”

“Over here by the shed,” Beth whispered. Rachel’s head twisted toward the back of the lot. A lonely hand waved above the tall weeds.

“Why are you whispering? Come out of there.” Rachel demanded into her phone, twisting her head toward the shed.

“No, that caseworker is at my house, and she’s got reinforcements with her.”

Rachel stepped into the tall weeds, grimacing at the swarm of bugs she’d disturbed. “Beth, what’s going on?” Impatient for answers, she swatted a few more bugs and moved closer to the shed. “Never mind, I’m coming to you.” She shoved her cell phone into her pocket. “There aren’t any snakes, are there?” Rachel shivered at the thought and carefully parted the weeds until she reached a small clearing by the shed. Terror ripped through her when she found her best friend.

“Oh my God, Beth.” Tears sprang into Rachel’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she swept Beth into her arms. Beth moaned at the contact, and Rachel let loose of her friend. “Did your dad…” Fear gripped Rachel’s throat. “Oh Beth, what happened?”

“I’ll fill you in later, but for now, I fell at the park playing with Toby.” Beth gave her friend a defiant look.

“No, Beth, you need to tell your caseworker the truth. She’ll help you.”

“Don’t be stupid, Rach. They’ll haul my dad off to jail, and I’ll end up in some group home.” Beth took a deep breath. “I’m sticking to my story unless you don’t care if I am gone.”

“Don’t say things like that. I went crazy today wondering why you weren’t in school. They can’t just take you away, can they?”

“Oh yes, they can, and they will. Officials don’t care about me. All government people just do their job and then forget about people.”

“I don’t know, Beth. I think people care.” Rachel shrugged her shoulders. “You just have to trust them,”

“No! I tripped over a tree root while playing with Toby at the park.” Beth took a deep breath. “You got it?”

Rachel nodded. “I got it!” She’d follow her friend’s lead, regardless of the truth.

“Let’s go get this over with.” Beth pulled Rachel toward the sidewalk. “Remember, I fell.”

The two girls rounded the corner and headed toward the Culbertson house. They waved as they approached Bert and Gigi.

Bert put her palm against Beth’s cheek. “This looks bad, Beth. What happened?” She examined Beth's arm without waiting for an answer, but the teenager flinched and pulled away.

“It’s nothing. Toby and I were playing in the park. I tripped on a huge tree root and fell. I don’t know who’s clumsier, him or me.” Beth shrugged her shoulders.

“Yeah, it was kind of funny. She sprawled face-first on the ground. Toby thought she was playing and started jumping on her.” A pink tinge crept across Rachel’s face. She wasn’t comfortable lying. “Beth, I better get home before my mother has a search party out looking for me.”

“Yeah, sure, call me later.”

Rachel waved goodbye and jogged down the street.

Roberta glanced toward the house, wondering about Toby. “Speaking of Toby, he didn’t greet me with his usual enthusiasm. Not one bark from the boy. Is he okay?”

Tears filled Beth’s eyes. Biting her lip, she wiped them away. “Dad gave him away. I came home from school to find him gone.”

“Gave him away? Why on earth would he do that? You loved Toby.” Bert was positive there was a deeper story hidden here.

“While we were waiting, Bert mentioned your dog. She said he wouldn’t leave your side when she visited.” Gigi’s smile lit up her face like rays of sunshine. “It’s nice to have a special relationship with our animals.”

The teenager nodded. “I guess, but Dad said we couldn’t afford to take care of him anymore since Mom died. Money is tight.” She scuffed her tennis shoe against the sidewalk. “I didn’t have time to take care of him, anyway.” On the verge of tears, Beth moved away from the women. “I need to get inside.”

“We noticed the door was open, but your dad didn’t answer when I knocked. Do you know if he’s home?”

Beth glanced at the open door and then back to her caseworker. “You were looking for my dad?” She looked toward the house again. “I’m pretty sure he had a job interview this afternoon. Must have been running late and forgot to shut the door.”

“A job interview? That’s great.” Bert wasn’t buying a single word Beth said. “What kind of job was it?”

“I’m not sure.” Beth kicked a stone off the sidewalk. “Listen, I’m sorry, but I need to get inside before my dad gets home.”

Without waiting for a reply, Beth sprinted toward the house and closed the door behind her.