Page 42 of Haunted By Sin
Sylvie glanced to her left, but she hadn’t been startled by Andrea’s appearance. The soles of her shoes could be heard crossing the kitchen tile. In her hand was a glass of ice water.
“I could lie and tell you that I was admiring the wooden paneling, but I won’t.” Sylvie had been given her answer as to what was behind the panels from Andrea’s horrified reaction. “What’s behind this door, Andrea? What will I find if I open—”
“Get out,” Andrea yelled, not noticing that water had spilled over the rim of the glass. “Get out! Now!”
“I’ll leave, Andrea.” Sylvie kept her voice calm and even. “If that’s what you would like, I’ll collect my purse and leave. You should know that I will submit for a search warrant, though. You can either show me what is behind this door now or I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Everything the team had uncovered thus far led back to Sheila Wallace. This home had been her residence. Had Andrea Simpson not reacted in such a panicked manner, Sylvie might have returned to the living room to continue their conversation.
“You’re going to assume the worst, and you won’t believe me after…”
Andrea shook her head before disappearing around the corner. She was still visibly upset. Sylvie waited a moment longer, releasing the tension in her shoulders when Andrea came back into view sans the glass of water.
“I will listen to you, Andrea,” Sylvie murmured in reassurance as Andrea came to a stop a few steps away. “Whatever you have to tell me, I promise to listen without reservation. In turn, I need you to trust me that I’m not accusing Mitch of any wrongdoing. I just need his help in clarifying some statements he made when he was younger.”
“None of us are capable of murder.”
Andrea was still in denial.
Sylvie couldn’t say one way or another that the woman was wrong, but motive played a vital part in this investigation. Typically, serial killers had signatures, targeted specific victims, and couldn’t bring themselves to stop. The unsub in this case was fueled by a goal. Once that goal was achieved, the unsub would blend back into the woodwork, never to be seen or heard from again.
Andrea finally nodded her consent. Sylvie slowly reached out to turn the small knob. It wasn’t easy to get the latch to budge. As a matter of fact, Sylvie had to apply a lot of pressure for the bolt to release, suggesting that the space hadn’t been used for quite some time.
Sylvie pulled the door open, and the height of it didn’t even reach her chest. There didn’t seem to be a light switch, so Sylvie lifted her phone and pressed the flashlight button on the display. The beam sliced through the darkness.
Nausea hit the back of her throat.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Andrea exclaimed, stepping forward until Sylvie shot her a warning glance. “It isn’t. We told you the truth. Sheila didn’t physically abuse us in any way. That alcove was just used as a time-out. A reminder that if we didn’t follow her rules, we could be sent somewhere worse.”
“Mental abuse is just as bad as physical abuse, Andrea.”
The walls bore the scars of desperate expressions—drawings that told stories of sorrow and solitude. In the corner lay a tattered blanket, a stained pillow, and an old flashlight. Battery acid could be seen staining the side of the yellow plastic. The items were the remnants of a childhood prison.
“Answer me this, Andrea,” Sylvie implored as she took pictures of the small space with her phone. She uploaded them to the firm’s software, which would then send an alert to the team that images had been added to the case file. “Who spent the most time in there?”
Sylvie didn’t need Andrea to respond, but forcing the woman to open her eyes to reality was paramount. The question hung between them until Andrea swiped at the tears that threatened to fall.
“Mitch, but you already knew that,” Andrea responded bitterly. “He didn’t murder anyone. He and Tyler were the only ones who never left me. I would know if one of them was capable of murder.”
“Why haven’t you cleaned that room out, Andrea?”
“Because it’s easier to pretend it never existed,” Andrea practically whispered as she stepped forward and slammed it shut. “Mitch promised to help me fix up the place. It’s one of the reasons that he is back in town, but he said he had to take care of something first. I’m assuming that it has to do with one of his brothers.”
“Brothers?”
Sylvie suddenly realized what information had been missing from Mitch Swilling’s file. While there was a section that explained Mitch’s family history and how he came to be placed in foster care, the facts listed had been sparse. Mitch’s mother had died of an overdose, and his father had been sent to prison for armed robbery.
“Ricky and Carl,” Andrea replied as she brushed past Sylvie. “Ricky lives with his girlfriend in the apartment building near Wurster Park. Mitch usually stays with them when he’s in town, which isn’t often.”
Sylvie was left to follow Andrea back into the living room. Since the federal field office was slammed with several cases and Agent Tirelli taking the lead on the Reggie Hollins’ angle, she had yet to receive all the background checks on the foster children who would currently be in their late twenties or early thirties.
“And Carl?”
“I have no idea. Mitch hasn’t mentioned him in years.”
Andrea didn’t take a seat. It was her way of letting Sylvie know that their conversation had finally come to an end. Sylvie collected her purse and walked toward the front entrance. She paused when her hand was on the handle.
“I got the sense that Tyler didn’t know Mitch was in town. Why keep that information from Tyler if the three of you are so close?”