Chapter 31
P
escoli's headache had started out small in the morning, but by seven thirty was a rager. She'd worked all day and heard that the road to her house was closed. Both kids were okay, though, Luke, bless his itty-bitty dark heart, had picked up Bianca when school was closed early in the morning, so she was safely with her father and stepmother.
Jeremy had called and informed her he was at a friend's house and, before hanging up, had wheedled that he just needed her signature and three hundred dollars for his part of the lease.
Pescoli had told him to “join the club” and refused. She bought a sandwich and a Diet Coke out of the vending machine, and while she ate the sandwich, stared at her computer screen, where she studied the footage of the suspect with his dolly and garbage can for what had to be the fortieth time.
Biting into the tuna on rye, she also looked through the names she'd gotten from the DMV of Dodge trucks registered in Pinewood and the surrounding three counties. Though all the victims lived, worked and had been abducted in Pinewood, it didn't mean the killer didn't live somewhere else, somewhere nearby and just used the area around Grizzly Falls as his personal hunting ground.
“Prick,” she muttered as she saw him on the screen one more time and set her sandwich aside. There was something about him that seemed familiar.
Of course there is; you've been studying him all day.
No, she thought, taking another look. She knew this guy; she was sure of it, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.
It's his eyes. Why the hell does he keep covering them up?
It was true, as she flipped through all of the shots of the suspect, his eyes were covered. Ski goggles at the music store, and at the scene with the church, when he stood under the tree, it seemed as if he, again, was wearing some protective covering though it wasn't quite light.
What was that all about?
She searched the pictures of the crowd that had collected near the Enstad place where the second victim, Lissa Parsons, was found. No white truck showed in any of the pictures and she couldn't pinpoint the guy, but she knew he was there, hiding in the shadows, like the sick coward he was.
“We're gonna get you,” she said, her gaze returning to her computer screen, where his likeness as he wheeled the dolly by the music store had been enlarged. She took a long swallow of her Diet Coke. “And when we do, you loser, I'm going to make it my personal mission to make sure you never see the light of day again.”
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Trilby Van Droz drew the short straw.
Because every other road deputy and officer in the department was out helping with emergencies, she got the duty of driving the juvenile back to Helena.
Go figure.
Already bone weary, she chewed gum and sipped coffee as she drove toward Helena. The storm was really gathering force, dumping snow at an incredible rate, and yet, here she was. For some reason she didn't understand, probably due to Judge Victor Ramsey himself, it was imperative that Gabriel Reeve return to Helena tonight.
This road, usually fairly busy, was already nearly impassable, traffic extremely light as people hunkered down to wait out what the newscasters were calling “the storm of the century.” Yeah, well, wasn't that what they'd called last year's blizzard?
As it was, her Jeep was sliding a bit, but she was used to driving in bad weather. A native Montanan, she wasn't scared by a little snow ... well, make that a lot of snow.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw her charge staring back at her. Reeve's dark eyes were filled with hate ... or was it fear? How bad could he be? Geez, he was only sixteen, just a year older than her daughter. It wasn't as if he was a hardened criminal, for God's sake, just a kid who'd taken a wrong turn, one his family was trying to straighten out.
Weird that. The gossip running through the department was that the kid was Detective Alvarez's biological son, but other than the fact that he was obviously Latino, there wasn't a lot of resemblance, at least none that Trilby could see.
That, at least, wasn't her problem, she reminded herself as she cranked up the heat in the Jeep. All she had to do was haul him to Helena, let the local boys deal with him and return to Grizzly Falls, if the roads allowed.
She yawned and sipped some hot coffee from her travel mug. She had her own problems with her own kid. Her teenaged daughter was giving her fits, sneaking out, and it was all Trilby could do to keep an eye on her at night while working overtime as a deputy with the sheriff's department. It was times like these that she hated being a single mother, though the thought of remarriage was enough to make her shudder. Her ex had cured her of ever trusting in the idea of marital bliss, and whenever she thought being alone and raising a kid was tough, she remembered being married and feeling as if she was mother to her husband, too.
No, she'd deal with her kid by herself, and aside from the fact that finances were tight, she could handle it. She knew people who married, divorced, got along and shared parental responsibilities. Her friend Callie's husband was involved with his kids, even paid more than what the court ordered and his new wife was incredible with Callie's sons.
Trilby hadn't gotten so lucky, and on days like this, when she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and a damned blizzard was sweeping across the country, she felt stretched to the max.
It was only the thought of overtime that kept her going.
She turned the wipers up a notch, noticed that ice was starting to form on the windshield and that the police band was going nuts with calls about traffic accidents, power outages and a possible drowning in September Creek where someone had fallen through the ice.
“Damn,” she said under her breath and realized it was going to be another long day. She'd get this kid to Helena and...
She saw something in her headlights. Something in the road. “What in God's name?” A large van had slid halfway into the ditch on the side of the road. Its emergency lights were flashing, the front end still sideways in the road, its engine rumbling as it idled.
“Great.” Slowing, she flipped on her own lights, radioed her position and, when the Jeep came to a stop, climbed out of the car.
“Hey,” she said as she saw a guy in front of the van, caught in the twin beams of his headlights, snow falling all around, collecting on his jacket and cap. He was bending down, on one knee, and there was an animal in front of him, an animal that wasn't moving. “Sir, is there a problem?”
“It's the dog. He just came out of nowhere. Shot across the road and ... I hit the brakes, but ...” His voice cracked as he looked over his shoulder at her. “I skidded, but I couldn't avoid him ... I think it's still alive. Oh, God.”
“Let's see,” she said, moving for a better look at the motionless dog. Was it even breathing? And where was the blood? Waitâ
She knew her mistake the minute she leaned forward.
He swung around quickly, a stun gun in the hand that had been hidden from her.
Damn!
Before she could draw her weapon, or fight back, he pressed the electrodes to her neck and squeezed the trigger.
A hundred thousand volts shot through her system.
In a heartbeat, she lost all control and flopped into the snow beside the dog only to watch helplessly as he packed her and the animal into the back of his van. He cuffed her to the sides of his rig and left the dog on the floor, then he took her keys off her ring, her phone from her pocket, her walkie microphone off her uniform and slammed the door shut.
Trilby could do nothing but twitch.
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“How about I meet you somewhere for dinner, say in half an hour or so?” O'Keefe suggested from his end of the wireless connection. “I was just at the town house; still no electricity.”
Alvarez glanced at the clock on her computer. It was late, close to seven thirty; she'd been working most of the day. “If we wanted to start a fire,” she said, stretching, “we could start the fire in the fireplace, it's gas. There must be a way to do it without the electric starter and somehow not cause an explosion.”
“You'd think.”
“And I have candles for light.”
“But no food in the house, last I checked.”
“Good point.”
“After dinner we can decide what we're going to do. Why don't we meet at the Grizzly Hotel; they're open and they're serving dinner. I know because Dave and Aggie stayed there earlier.”
“They left?” she asked, thinking of Gabe and feeling a stupid new tug on her heart.
“Tried to beat the storm. They want to see their other kids, then meet Gabe when he gets to Helena. According to Aggie, Leo's been taking care of Josie while they've been here and that makes them nervous. He's eighteen and a good kid, but that can change without supervision. When they call, Josie makes a lot of noise about seeing Gabe. She misses him and wants to see him.”
So do I,
Alvarez thought, but didn't say it. Legally, she wasn't Gabe's mother, she had no rights and she understood that she'd given them up long ago, but she couldn't stop the pain in her heart at the thought of the son she would probably never see again.
A little saddened, she leaned back in her desk chair. It had been a long, frustrating day in so many ways, from the moment she'd heard about Brenda Sutherland to now, even with all the new footage and pictures pointing out the killer, this man she felt like she should be able to ID and couldn't.
Her muscles ached, she was tired, the kid she'd reconnected with was leaving and the madman intent on terrorizing the area was taunting her, sending her cards, laughing at her, begging her to find him.
She should just stay here and work through the dinner hour, but she did need a break and the thought of spending a little time with O'Keefe was oh so appealing. Maybe just what she needed.
She glanced at her computer screen again, at a still picture, a moment caught on the tape of him rolling the garbage can holding Brenda Sutherland. He'd looked up. Directly into the camera, his dark goggles nearly reflective. It was the cleanest shot they had of him, the one that had been given to the press and the public, but it could be any man in a ski mask, goggles and cap.
She was tired of staring at the image, of being taunted by the bastard.
Yeah, she needed a break. And she wanted to see O'Keefe. More than she admitted to herself. “So,” she said into the phone as she turned away from the computer monitor. “You're sticking around for a while?” she asked.
“At least tonight.”
“And after that?”
“Depends on the storm.”
“Oh.” It was strange how disappointed she felt at the thought of his leaving.
“And it also depends upon a woman.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Really?”
“Yeah, you see, I like her. A lot; but I'm not sure where I stand with her.”
Alvarez felt the room shrink, and all at once she remembered how it felt to touch him and kiss him and wake up to him in the morning. How they laughed, how he'd come to her rescue when Junior Green wanted her dead, how he'd accepted what she'd told him about Emilio and Gavin ... how right it felt to be with him. Suddenly, her throat grew thick and she felt heat steal up the back of her neck. “Maybe you should just tell her how you feel,” she suggested.
“She might run the other way.”
“And she might not.” Dear God, she couldn't believe they were having this conversation while she was still at the station, the door to her office open. “Maybe you should have a little faith. She might be a strong woman and it could be she feels the same way about you.”
“She's run away before.”
“But she's older now, right? More mature. Dealt with some of her demons?” Alvarez found herself smiling while blinking back tears. This was ridiculous ... She was overly tired, that was it. Right?
Or, was it possible to fall in love this fast?
Take it slow. There's so much going on. You're on the edge. Frazzled. Another serial killer's on the loose and you just met your son that you gave up for adoption years ago. You're fragile. Don't rush this.
Despite the voice of reason arguing in her head, she said into her phone, “I really think you should give her a chance, O'Keefe. She just might surprise you.”
“Okay,
one
more,” he said. “See you in forty-five.”
“You got it.”
She hung up and told herself everyone was right; she did need more of a life than working eighty hours a week. Yes, her pets had helped, but she was finally open to the thought of a family, and that, she knew, started with O'Keefe.