to the kids.”
“We discussed the Hacker and talked them into giving him up. Ellie had also received a message from Smith saying he knew her father.”
“Leonard Worthington, and her real name is Eliana Worthington. Or at least it used to be.” He was typing into the computer and watched as information came up on one Leonard David Worthington. The last known address was Ellie’s.
“Nothing on him since he lived there?” Victoria said. “I’m calling Holt and see if we have anything in the database.”
She called him and while she was giving him the info, he scanned the rest of the file. Driver’s License records were clean. No citations or DUI’s. No arrests, either, but an old domestic disturbance call showed up. It was Ellie’s address way back in 1997.
“He’ll get back as soon as he has the info,” Victoria said hanging up. She leaned in close as Jaxon continued to scan the report. They both saw it at the same time. “You were the responding officer,” she said. “You made this report.” She looked at him stunned.
“I don’t remember,” he said. “I wouldn’t normally respond to a call like this. I must have been in the area and the patrol officers tied up somewhere else.” He thought for a second, then said, “No wonder she’s been such a bitch to me. She probably remembers me from that call. Damn! Why can’t I remember?”
“Is this what your Spidey-senses were tingling about?”
“Has to be.” He looked at the computer and scrolled down the screen. The report listed Madison Worthington as the caller. She had dialed 911 complaining that her husband was drunk and ‘out of his head’ breaking things and screaming at her. Apparently Jaxon had been able to convince the man to behave by ‘informing him of his parental duties and the consequences of neglecting those duties.’
“What did you tell him?” Victoria asked.
“I don’t know.” He thought about it but came up with nothing.
“Did you threaten to have Social Services take his son away?”
“Sounds like something I would do.”
“Yes, it does.” She gave him a look and stood up. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To see Madison Worthington-or Pemberton. Whatever her name is. Maybe she knows where he is.”
They pulled up to the house to find the older brother messing with what looked like a model airplane. The engine was running and he was revving it up and down while he held onto it with one hand. White smoke was streaming from the exhaust. It sounded like a bunch of angry bees or even a miniature chain saw.
Jaxon and Victoria walked up and he shut the engine off, looking irritated.
“Patrick, right?” Jaxon said.
The kid nodded.
“Is your mother here?”
“Yeah. She’s inside.”
“Pretty cool toy,” Jaxon said leaning down and looking at it. “Is it hard to fly?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t tried it yet. I just got it.”
“I’ll bet it was expensive.”
“I don’t know. It was a gift.”
“Does it burn that alcohol fuel?”
“Yeah.” Patrick reached down a grabbed a gallon jug of greenish fluid. It had some kind of pump attached to it. “This is what it uses.”
“Be careful breathing those fumes,” Jaxon said. “They contain a chemical that might knock you out. It’s called Diethyl Ether.”
The kid looked at him like he was crazy.
“Have fun,” Jaxon said as he turned and walked up to the door.
When they were out of earshot Victoria said, “What was that all about?”
“Just passing on some knowledge I learned,” he said, grinning.
“He probably thinks you’re an ass.”
“Maybe, but he’ll still remember it.”
“Doubt it.”
He knocked on the door and Madison Pemberton answered looking tired and a little greyer. Her face registered annoyance and then worry. “What happened,” she said quickly.
“Everything’s fine, Miss Pemberton,” Jaxon said. “We didn’t mean to worry you. We just wanted to ask you a few questions if you have a moment.”
“Don’t you think you should be out trying to catch the man who wants to hurt my daughter?”
“It’s related to the case, ma’am,” Victoria said.
“And you are…?” Madison said.
“Special Agent Elliot, FBI ma’am. The Detective and I are working on the case together.”
“May we come in?” Jaxon said.
She hesitated, and then opened the door wider and stepped aside. Jaxon let Victoria enter first. The layout was very similar to the Harrison house only flip-flopped so the stairway was to their right as they entered and the half bath was to the left. She led them into the living room and asked if they wanted anything to drink.
“No thank you, Miss Pemberton,” Victoria said, sitting in a chair that looked horribly uncomfortable. Jaxon chose the couch.
“Miss Pemberton,” Jaxon said, “we’ve met before all of this, haven’t we?”
She nodded. “I didn’t think you remembered. 1997. I had to call the police on my husband and you were the responding officer.”
“What happened?”
“You don’t know?” she said, surprised.
“It’s been a long time. Refresh my memory.”
“My husband was not a pleasant man,” she said. “He had been drinking and we got into a fight. I was pregnant at the time with Ellie and was not providing him with enough-uh-‘entertainment’ as he put it and he started slapping me. He was a hitter. I ran from him and called the police. Your delayed arrival allowed him to drink even more. As soon as you arrived he started in on you, and you had to-subdue him. Patrick was two at the time and was crying from all the shouting. My husband screamed at him to shut up and you then threatened to take the child away if my husband didn’t settle down. He must have gotten the point, because he stopped struggling and shut his mouth. It was like a switch had been turned off.”
Jaxon nodded, remembering now. The man had been huge. Six-four, six-five, two hundred fifty pounds at least. The only reason Jaxon was able to get him on the ground was because he was staggering drunk.
“Leonard was very protective of his son,” she continued. “He did not appreciate you threatening him and he told you…”
“That I would regret it.”
“Right-so you do remember.”
“It’s coming back.”
“I was surprised you didn’t take him in,” she said, looking directly at him.
“It usually only makes things worse. He seemed under control after that.”
“He beat me with a belt.”
Jaxon didn’t know what to say.
“I almost lost the baby and had bruises that stayed for weeks.”
“I’m sorry,” he finally said.
She turned away from him and stared off into the distance as if it didn’t matter. “It’s over and I’m free of him.”
“Did he ever touch you again?” Victoria asked.
“No. My father took care of that since the police couldn’t seem to.” She turned and looked him in the eye again. He had to look away.
“My father stayed with me for months and pointed a shotgun at him every time he came around. He finally
