Free Immoral by Brian Freeman Page A

paper-white teeth against his black skin. He grabbed each of their hands in turn in a crushing handshake.
    “I want to thank all of you for joining me tonight,” he told them in a sober, rumbling voice, which he reserved for victims. “I can only imagine how hard this is for each of you. But it’s so very important that the rest of the people in this state hear your story. And, God willing, maybe your voices can reach out to your girls, or to whoever stole them away from you.”
    “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Finch,” Barbara McGrath said.
    “Mr. and Mrs. Stoner, I will do everything I can to put you at ease,” he said. “I don’t want you thinking about the camera. Just talk to me. Tell me your story.”
    Bird squeezed his tall body into his usual chair. He rubbed one hand back over his shaved scalp and glanced at his suit to make sure his pockets, handkerchief, and cuffs were in place. He cleared his throat and draped one bent arm over the left side of the chair.
    He gave his guests a last sympathetic smile. The red light went on.
    “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Bird said. “I’m Jay Finch, and tonight I bring you a very special interview with two families from Duluth, Minnesota. These four people only met for the first time tonight, but they share a bond that brings them closer together as each day passes.”
    The camera backed up to reveal the Stoners and McGraths sitting across from Bird on the set.
    “Fifteen months ago, Kerry McGrath, the daughter of Mike and Barbara McGrath, disappeared off the streets of Duluth. Three weeks ago tonight, Rachel Deese, daughter of Emily Stoner and stepdaughter of her husband, Graeme, suffered the same terrible fate. Two teenage girls who went to the same school and lived only a few miles apart. Both missing persons. We all pray for their safety, and we all fear for their lives.”
    Bird’s voice hardened. “The police will not tell you these crimes are related. They say simply that both investigations are continuing, although they release no evidence to suggest they are any closer to solving these awful mysteries. Meanwhile, the families of Duluth face another night of uneasy sleep. Each time one of their girls goes off to school, they wonder if she will return home safely. Each time their daughter leaves them to visit a friend, they call to make sure she arrived on time. This is what fear does. This is the price of not knowing. Because everyone in Duluth is whispering the same question: What happened?”
    Bird focused his eyes into the camera, as if he were standing in the living room of every viewer.
    “What happened? Is there a serial killer stalking the young women of Duluth? Is someone else in danger? Will a year pass this time between crimes, or has the killer’s patience been exhausted? Is he back on the street tonight, cruising in a lonely vehicle, slowing down at each person he passes?”
    The words burned on his tongue like sour candy. He could feel the fear like a tangible thing, and he knew he was spreading it throughout the state. Bird didn’t feel guilty. They needed to be afraid.
    “We don’t know the answer to those questions,” Bird said softly. “We don’t know what really happened on those two nights a little over a year apart. God knows we all hope that Kerry and Rachel are both safe somewhere and that in the very near future we will see them back home with their parents. But in the interim, the citizens of this state are looking to the police for answers—answers that are long overdue.”
    Bird turned to Barbara McGrath. “Now let’s hear from the other victims of these crimes, the families who suffer and wonder. Mrs. McGrath, do you believe in your heart that Kerry is still alive?”
     
     
    Emily heard the woman answer. She said the expected thing. Yes, Kerry was alive; she felt it keenly in her soul; she knew her girl was out there somewhere; she would never give up hope as long as Kerry was missing. Then this stranger