Critical Pursuit (18 page)

JACK PACED
from one end of his living room to the other. For the first time in a year his restlessness was not caused by dreams of Vicki.

He’d called Chuck and filled him in on what he’d learned from Gabe Lopez. Chuck promised to check into the investigation going on in San Bernardino and call back as soon as he learned anything. Jack felt compelled to call Brinna but hesitated. Finally he picked up the phone.

She answered after one ring. “Caruso.”

“It’s Jack O’Reilly. Are you busy right now? I’ve got something new on Nigel Pearce.”

“A little. I’m at the hospital with my dad.”

Jack slapped his forehead. “Hey, I’m sorry. I forgot. This can wait.”

“No, that’s okay. What’s up?”

“I don’t want to go into it over the phone.”

“Then I’ll meet you somewhere
 
—say in about an hour down at Second and Bayshore. You know where people rent kayaks?”

“I do. Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt time with your dad.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you in an hour.”

Jack set the phone down and checked his watch, hoping Chuck had something to tell him before he met with Brinna. He went into the kitchen to make some lunch and opened the refrigerator door to find it empty. When he closed the door, the calendar with the circled date of the sentencing on it caught his eye.

He realized that he hadn’t thought about Bridges or the sentencing for quite a while, and guilt stabbed. Chewing on his lip while he gathered his wallet and car keys, he decided that in spite of himself he was emerging from his fog of grief, and he liked the feeling.

AFTER JACK’S PHONE CALL,
Brinna caught the accusation on her mother’s face.

“What?” Her forehead scrunched and she crossed her arms, matching her mother’s glare. “I’ll be here for a while longer. Dad’s still asleep.”

Rose simply shook her head. “I’m going to get some coffee. I’ll be right back.”

“What was the call about?” Maggie asked.

“Jack said it had something to do with Nigel Pearce.”

“The guy who kidnapped you?” Brian stared at Brinna. “I thought he was dead.”

Brinna sighed, not wanting to get into everything with Brian and wondering if it was a mistake to meet with Jack. What possible new information could he have?

She stepped closer to her dad’s bed and nearly jumped when she saw he was awake and watching her.

“Dad! You’re awake. How do you feel?” Suddenly self-conscious because of the lame question, Brinna fidgeted with the railing on the bed.

Brian and Maggie stepped closer, on either side of her.

Rocky shrugged weakly. “It’s always work with you.” Watery, accusing eyes held hers.

“Brian’s here too,” she said, pretending she didn’t hear the irritation in his voice and trying to hide the irritation in hers.

“That job
 
—it’s no work for a girl,” Rocky rasped.

Brinna felt her face flush.
So this is why he wanted to talk to me. To continue a lecture I’ve heard for more than six years?

“It’s what I do. It’s what I love, and it’s what I’m good at.” Brinna’s jaw tightened. The last thing she’d wanted to do with her father when she walked into the room was argue with him.

Rocky raised a hand and waved dismissively. “You’re a spectacle in the newspaper; that’s what you are.” A coughing fit began.

Brinna stepped away from the bed. “It was good seeing you too, Dad,” she said as she turned for the door.

“Brinna.” Brian grabbed her arm.

She jerked away. “You talk to him. He’s obviously proud of you. I’ve got a meeting to go to.” Brinna passed her mother returning with coffee as she left the room, Maggie on her heels.

“That could have gone better,” Maggie said as they got on the elevator.

Brinna sighed. “Don’t you start with me. You saw how it went. He couldn’t wait to get after me.”

Maggie held her hands up. “I’m not taking sides. I just made an observation.”

“With all the stuff going on right now, the last thing I need is my father berating me again.”

“He’s sick. Cut him some slack.”

The elevator doors opened and they stepped off. Brinna took a deep breath and stopped, holding Maggie’s gaze.

“I know he’s sick. I didn’t go in there expecting to pick a fight with him. He always does that to me.” She pounded her palm with a fist. “Why can’t I just ignore it?”

“Sometimes the people we love the most are the hardest to talk to. I’ve watched you for so many years.” Maggie stepped close. “All the approval you got from Milo, you really wanted from your dad. Trouble is, now Milo’s gone and your dad is not far behind. You do a great job, Brin, whether he notices or not.”

Brinna looked away, throat thick. “Since when did you become a psychiatrist?”

“You’re my friend. I can’t imagine dealing with what’s on your plate right now. I want you to know I’m here for you.”

Wiping her eyes, Brinna sighed. “Thanks, Maggie, thanks. Right now I don’t want to talk about my father.” She started for the door and Maggie fell into step with her.

“Then what’s up with O’Reilly?” Maggie asked when they reached the parking lot.

Brinna told Maggie about the abduction and rescue of Jessica and the similarities to her own abduction.

“Do you think it’s a copycat?”

“I don’t know what to think.” She groaned and stretched. “I just don’t want this guy to hurt any more kids.”

“He doesn’t have a chance with the Kid Crusader on his trail.”

Brinna managed a chuckle. “I hope you’re right, Sister Mary Sunshine.”

“I am. Try not to be so pessimistic. I’ve got your back.”

* * *

Brinna stopped at home to pick up Hero, knowing he’d appreciate a trip to the beach. Besides, it felt good to hug the furry dog, whose tail wagged furiously because he was happy to see her.

At least somebody was.

The dog bounded out to the truck, and Brinna felt her spirits lift. Maggie’s words about her father’s approval had struck a nerve and she worked hard to push the confrontation with him from her thoughts.

Her phone rang twice on the way to Second and Bayshore. The first was from Janet Rodriguez, telling her that the shooting board had picked a time and date to convene.

“Umm, okay,” Brinna said. “I know it’s better to get it out of the way, but I’ve got so much on my mind.”

“Once all the facts are reviewed, it may stick a sock in Hester Shockley’s mouth. Monday night after squad meeting.”

“I’ll be there.”

The second call brought even more sobering news. It was from Milo’s son, Will.

“Brinna Caruso. This is Will Milovich, Milo’s son. I wanted to call and tell you about the memorial service for my dad. His wishes were clear. He didn’t want a dog and pony show. So we’re just going to have a small service out at
that park near his house in Santa Clarita. It’ll be on Sunday, about noon. I hope you’ll be there.”

“I wouldn’t miss it, Will. Thanks for the call.” She bit back the why questions she wanted to ask Will, deciding to wait until they were face-to-face.

When she reached Second and Bayshore, the sight of Tony and his granddaughters had the same calming effect on her that hugging Hero did. She stepped out into the warm sunshine, enjoying the smell of the ocean and the sounds of people out splashing in the water. Jack wasn’t there yet, and she wondered what possible news he could have about a man who’d been dead for ten years.

NIGEL FIRST SAW THEM
on Friday afternoon. He was picking up trash along Bayshore, just past the Second Street bridge. They were playing in the water near the bridge. They were the right age and they were perfect. He felt his face flush with pleasure and anticipation.

He caught himself staring and took a quick inventory of people on the beach to see if anyone noticed. Strolling to a Dumpster to empty his bag, Nigel felt as though he’d been hit by a jolt of electricity that energized his entire body.

This was the something special he’d been searching for. Never had he anointed more than one Special Girl at a time. Now, in front of him, were two identical girls, perfect for his anniversary present to the dog cop. This would definitely rock her world.

Again, the elation and excitement he felt now that the dog cop was in the game surprised him. He hadn’t felt this good, this alive, since his rebirth ten years ago. His thoughts drifted back to that hot, dry afternoon in the mountains.
He’d believed he was going to die. He certainly wanted to die rather than go to prison. Prison was no place for child molesters.

Nigel thought about how carefully he’d prepared his funeral pyre back then. At first he wasn’t going to take anyone with him. Then he decided he didn’t want to make anything easy for his pursuers. Besides, who would give a dime about a few worthless drug addicts? Even his cousin was a pathetic loser. Nigel scrunched his nose in distaste. He had his share of twisted predilections, but he never touched drugs, and that knowledge swelled his chest with pride.

At the last minute, before the cops shot the hotel full of tear gas, Nigel had seen an opening. The perimeter cops were pulling back in preparation for the SWAT team assault. He decided in an instant that he could burn in the fire or flee and maybe be cut down by bullets.

Timing was everything. Nigel’s grin broadened with the memory. He’d sprinted out the back of the hotel at the same time the cops fired at the front. It was the explosion that probably saved him, he realized later. The hotel had gone up with more force than even Nigel expected. He was in the forest, dodging burning embers, before anyone knew he was gone.

After the escape, he waited for the manhunt and feverishly prepared to survive for years in the forest. He burglarized several unoccupied vacation homes and had everything he needed to disappear for a long time.

But the manhunt never came. No helicopters, no dogs. Nigel was stumped. After a month he surfaced carefully and found out what had happened.

They had decided that he was dead. At that moment, Nigel was given a whole new life. He was a phoenix who’d risen from the flames.

The elation he’d felt then was now matched by the elation he felt at finding the right present for the dog cop. He’d take those two perfect girls and leave a riddle. This time the dog cop wouldn’t be so quick to unravel the mystery, he was certain.
Happy anniversary.

JACK PARKED ACROSS
from the water and checked around for Brinna. The sight of the surf and the feel of sand beneath his feet brought on a wash of memories that hit him like a tidal wave. Vicki had loved the beach.

He sucked in a breath as he heard her laughter and in his mind’s eye saw her dive into the water. Hands curled into fists as Jack fought the wave of pain threatening to engulf him.
Now is not the time. There is too much to do, too much at stake.
Images of Vicki faded. Breathing deeply, Jack pushed the pain away, turned his thoughts to Brinna, and kept walking, one foot in front of the other.

He wondered how she’d take the news he had for her. Checking his watch, he noted that he was late. Chuck had phoned just as he’d headed for the door, and he’d explained to Jack what a mess the investigation in San Bernardino was. The coroner’s records were in a shambles, and Chuck feared they’d never get to the bottom of the shoot-out ten years ago. Jack could only hope they’d dig up something that would help them catch a child killer.

The crowd at the beach was thick, but when Jack located the rental kiosk, he saw Brinna right away. She stood talking to a thin, bald man under the shade of a large umbrella. Hero frolicked near the surf with a couple of little girls.

As Jack approached across the sand, Brinna saw him, offering a nod.

“How’s your father doing?” Jack asked when he reached her.

She shrugged. “As well as can be expected.” She introduced Jack to Tony DiSanto.

“Pleased to meet you, Jack. While I love Hero, Brinna’s other partner, it’s nice to see that she has one now who walks on two legs and talks.”

“Thanks. I hope I live up to the standard Hero has set.” Jack shook the offered hand. “Nice place you have here. It must be great to have your office at the beach.”

“It’s heaven.” DiSanto turned to Brinna. “I’d better go supervise. The girls are going to tire your dog out.”

“He’s tireless.” Brinna smiled and waved a hand in Hero’s direction.

Jack noted a subtle difference in his partner. Though she looked tired, there was something softer in her face. She was more relaxed here on the beach. He wondered about the change.

Brinna faced Jack as DiSanto began some serious play with the little girls.

“So what is this new information you have on Nigel Pearce?” She motioned to two beach chairs and they sat down.

Jack told her about his visit with Gabe Lopez. “Apparently the coroner’s office was understaffed and underfunded back then. They got swamped under a big case where as many as thirty old people may have been killed by a nurse. Chaos reigned during the investigation. It seems an unqualified tech might have done as many as a hundred autopsies, unsupervised.”

He paused to let Brinna digest the information. Her face betrayed no emotion.

“Anyway,” he continued, “this tech found helpful evidence left and right, in order to cinch up weak cases.”

“Finding or making up?” Brinna asked.

“Mostly making up, from what the Feds have uncovered so far. Chuck called just as I left the house. He reviewed some copies of the file the bureau has on the investigation out in San Bernardino.”

“And this connects to Pearce how?”

“This tech did the autopsies on the bodies recovered when the Rimwood Hotel went up in flames. All five bodies had their hands and feet bound with wire from hangers. And they were shot dead before the fire. None of the wounds could have been self-inflicted.” He paused.

Brinna said nothing and Jack continued. “It seems that Nigel Pearce couldn’t have been among the bodies recovered. Somehow he escaped that day. He is still out there.”

NIGEL PEARCE
still alive.

Brinna had had nearly two full days to digest the information, and it still wasn’t going down easy. What she wouldn’t give for five minutes with the tech who’d made such a thing possible.
Angry
didn’t cover what she felt. Not so much for herself but for all the innocent children Pearce had most likely preyed on over the last ten years.

She shoved a stick of gum in her mouth, hoping to remove the nasty taste there, and shifted her attention to the task at hand
 
—Milo’s memorial.

I hate funerals,
Brinna thought, sitting in her truck at a small park in Santa Clarita. She watched cars arrive and mourners trudge into the park.

Wearing the best cop mask she could muster under the circumstances, Brinna climbed out of her truck and surveyed the gathering of mostly cops. Some guys came in uniform, and several officers from other jurisdictions were present. A few K-9 officers walked around with their dogs.

Thinking of Milo, she imagined how Jack’s information would have seized her mentor’s attention. He’d have wanted in on the hunt and capture. But reality intruded, and she experienced the shock of his death all over again. Pearce would be captured. Brinna refused to consider any other outcome. Still, the victory would not be as sweet without Milo there to share the celebration.

But Pearce’s capture and any victory celebrations were in the future. In the here and now there was the memorial service.
No Kevlar can shut out the finality now,
Brinna thought.

“I’m glad I brought you, Hero,” she said as she let the dog out of the truck. Taking a deep breath, she walked with Hero across the lot to the gathering.

Brinna clenched her teeth. “This is respect we’re paying. I will not lose my composure.”

Though she hadn’t seen him in about eight years, Brinna recognized Milo’s son, Will, immediately. He definitely resembled Milo. She knew father and son hadn’t had much contact for years. Will’s mother raised him in Northern California. But Milo was proud of Will, in spite of the fact that he hadn’t made an effort to be a more involved father. Milo had few pictures in his house. One favorite was a photo of Will’s graduation from law school. Milo bragged about his son the lawyer every chance he got.

Will smiled when he saw her approach. “Brinna, thanks for coming.” He extended his hand and she shook it. “Wish it were under different circumstances.”

“You and me both. I loved your father like he was my
own.” The words tumbled out. Brinna couldn’t stop them. “Why didn’t he tell me he was sick? I would’ve helped.”

Will sighed and put his hands on his hips. “He didn’t tell anyone. I got a letter in the mail the day after they told me he was dead, probably mailed the day he killed himself. It said he didn’t want his son changing his diapers, so he was checking out. Bye.” Will cleared his throat.

Brinna shook her head. She couldn’t stop the thought running through her mind:
At least Will got a note.

“Suicide
 
—quite a cop-out from the guy who said, ‘Never give up.’” Will’s voice shook and his eyes grew moist as he regarded Brinna. “He may not have called you, but he did leave something for you.”

“What?” A glimmer of hope brightened Brinna’s soul. Maybe Milo had left her some answers.

“A journal. Your name was written across it. It’s in my car. I’ll give it to you after we’re all done.”

“Great, thanks.”

He waved a hand toward the gathering. “Do you want to say anything today?”

Brinna swallowed and hesitated. “No. Thanks for asking, but right now I wouldn’t know what to say.”

Will nodded. A couple of K-9 officers called to him, and he walked off to start the memorial.

Brinna watched Will approach the portable podium and wondered why she’d told him no. She considered Milo the best influence on her life. The reason she couldn’t stand up there and share that with everyone escaped her. As she thought harder, she realized she was still angry. Angry that
Milo took what he’d always called the coward’s way out, angry that she didn’t know how to forgive him.

She sat near the back, nodding to those officers she knew. When the eulogies started, she just listened. The guys who spoke all talked Milo up as a cop’s cop. He was tenacious, he worked hard, and he trusted his instincts. His instincts never let him down.

At the end they did,
Brinna thought.
His instincts let us all down because they told Milo to take his own life.