Page 70 of The Girl from Devil's Lake
“Then break it down,” Joanna ordered. “Marliss Shackleford is still inside, and something bad may have happened to her.”
Tica returned. “They’re on the way,” she said.
“Good,” Joanna said. “Thanks.”
Another minute or two passed. Joanna tried to not hold her breath, but she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
“Just passing School Terrace Road,” Jaime said. “He didn’t turn off.”
“Did you hear that?” Joanna said into her phone to Chief Bernard.
“Sure did,” he answered. “We’ve got him.”
“All units,” Joanna said into the mic. “Trap is sprung. All units head for the Traffic Circle.”
Chapter 42
Naco, Arizona
Friday, December 8, 2023
As Garth and Deb pulled up to Stephen Roper’s residence,they donned their vests and activated their body cams. Garth was the one who did “the knock,” while shouting, “Open up! Police! We have a search warrant!” They waited a beat. When nothing happened, he shouted again.
Then he turned to his partner. “Break it down?” he asked.
“Be my guest,” Deb said.
It took three solid hits from Garth’s shoulder before the door gave way. They entered with weapons drawn and cleared the house. It was empty.
“So where did she go?” Deb asked. “The garage maybe?”
“No,” Garth said. “She’s got to be here inside someplace. I wonder if there’s a crawl space.”
It took several minutes but finally he located the trapdoor hidden under the mat on the bathroom floor. From above he could see a ladder leading down into the darkness. As he began to climb down, his hand touched a chain that, when pulled, illuminated the space’s only overhead light bulb. That’s when he saw her. Marliss lay sprawled on the concrete floor with her bound lower legs still entangled in the ladder.
“I found her,” he shouted back up to Deb. “It looks like she’s badly hurt. Call EMS. And once you call for an ambulance, call Sheriff Brady, too. She’s going to want to be here.”
Kneeling on the floor beside the injured woman, Garth sliced through the zip tie binding her hands in order to check for a pulse. “She’s still alive,” he called back up to Deb. “I’ve got a pulse.”
Next he cut through the zip tie on her feet. Afraid to move them, he left her lower legs in the same ungainly position before removing the gag covering her mouth. As he did so, her eyes fluttered open.
“Where am I?” she asked faintly. “What happened?”
“You’ve had a bad fall,” Garth told her. “We’ve called for an ambulance.” Even as he said the words, he wondered if, with all the traffic disruptions happening in town, an ambulance would make it there in time.
“Why can’t I feel my hands and feet?” Marliss asked.
Garth didn’t want to say what was likely the ugly truth. “Help is coming,” he assured her. “Hang in there. I’m going to go upstairs for a second.”
Deb was sitting on the edge of the bathtub waiting when Garth’s head popped back up through the trapdoor. “How bad is it?”
“Bad,” Garth replied. “She can’t feel her hands or legs.”
Deb put her hand over her mouth and took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go down and talk to her. You get on the horn to Sheriff Brady and let her know what’s going on. No telling how long before an ambulance can get here. Be there to flag them in.”
“Will do,” Garth said. “On my way.”
Detective Howell took a deep, steadying breath. Ernie Carpenter, the long-retired cop who had been her mentor, had taken a mere deputy and turned her into a capable homicide investigator. This was a crime scene—either murder or attempted murder—and this was possibly the last chance anyone would have to question the only eyewitness—the victim. Steeling herself for the task ahead, and with her body camera running, Deb lowered herself through the trapdoor and climbed down the ladder.
