First Night of Summer (21 page)

So many guys Derek’s age came to Taos—mountain towns all over New Mexico and Colorado were full of them—to be ski bums for a while. Some loved the life so much they never left. The purity of nature and slower pace never lost their appeal. He completely understood why it beckoned to people. They could lose the madness, forget about what society says one must do to lead a full life and be considered successful. He had seen many guys and girls over the years, just like Derek, people who turned their backs on the status quo and beat to their own drum.

“I’m Isaac. And this …” He nodded his head down. “Is my daughter Josie. We’re in town from Ruidoso to visit my folks.”

“That’s cool,” Derek said. “Big plans while you’re here? The river’s flowin’ pretty well for this time of year. It’s a good time to hit the rapids.”

“No, we’ll have to take a rain check. We’re leaving in the morning.” He placed a hand on Josie’s shoulder to include her in the conversation. “Isn’t that right, kiddo?”

She nodded. “Daddy, can I have some candy?”

“Candy?” He didn’t know where the question came from.

“Please,” she begged with puppy dog eyes.

“Absolutely not.” He held up the sugar. “MaMaw is making dessert.”

“Just a little one,” she stared up, eyelashes fluttering.

Where did she learn to do that?
He knew she was working him, but it did the trick anyway.
What does it matter? We’re on vacation
.

“Fine. Something small, and you’re not allowed to eat the whole thing.” She darted away around the end of the aisle and out of sight. “Small,” he called loud enough to reach her ears.

“Well,” Derek said, “is there anything else I can help you with?”

Isaac looked up and tried to glance over the top of the shelves. “Butter?”

Derek thumbed over his shoulder to the back of the cozy market. “In the cooler section.”

“Excellent.” Isaac stuck out his hand, and they shook again. “Thanks for your help, Derek.”

“Anytime. You guys have a safe trip tomorrow.”

Isaac retrieved a box of stick butter, then made his way across the back of the store to the candy aisle. When he turned, he found it empty. Bags of candy and sweet treats lined the shelves, but Josie was not there. It had only taken a minute or two to find the butter. She couldn’t be far. He went back one aisle and looked down it.
Nothing
. He went to the aisle on the other side of the candy section.
No Josie
.

“Josie!” he called. “Where are you?”

He didn’t feel anxious at this point, but he couldn’t imagine where she had gone off to. He walked to the front and looked from side to side. Two teenage girls in store aprons worked separate registers. One customer walked out the door with a handful of plastic sacks held in her hands. Another customer counted out change from her purse.
Still no Josie
. The small-town market was little enough for his voice to carry throughout the whole store. He didn’t want to shout, but the seed of fear slowly crept in. The most recent letter from the killer rang fresh in his memory. It plagued his mind, always present.
I’ll be seeing you. Soon
.

“Josie!” he hollered. “Josie!” He stayed in one spot, turned in a circle, and waited for a response.

Finally, she poked her head around a checkout stand shelf covered in magazines and tabloids. “I’m right here.”

He let out a breath without realizing he had held it. Fear receded, and he could feel his accelerated heart rate thump. “Where were you?” he demanded more out of desperation than anger. “Why weren’t you in the candy aisle?”

She held up and rattled a yellow box of Milk Duds. “They were all big over there.” She pointed to the place she had just come from by the vacant register. “The small ones were up here.”

It wasn’t fair to be mad at her. She had only done what he said and went to find the smaller servings. “Don’t wander off like that, okay?”

Josie had no idea of the last two letters, and everyone had agreed not to tell her.

“Are you ready?”

She shook the box of candy again with a satisfied expression on her face. “Yep!”

A pretty high school girl at the checkout counter set down her jewel-covered cell phone. She scanned the sugar and butter without making eye contact. Isaac didn’t think she looked old enough for the job, but it was encouraging to see young people at work. She tucked a strand of golden hair over her ear. Fingers with neon pink nail polish busily punched a series of keys on the computerized register.

“Did you find everything you need?” she politely asked.

“Yes, thank you.” He held his wallet at the ready. “Derek helped us out.”

She giggled and scanned Josie’s candy. If Sarah had been there, she would have later told Isaac that the girl thought he was cute. Her nametag read “Ashley,” and she hit a final button. “Your total is nine ninety-two.”

Isaac handed over ten dollars. “Keep the change.”

She put the sugar and butter into a sack and gave the Milk Duds directly to Josie, who accepted them with obvious excitement. “Have a nice day.”

“You, too. Let’s go, Jo,” he said to Josie. “We don’t want to keep MaMaw waiting.”

Once they were clear of the front doors, Ashley turned around and spoke to the teenage girl at the other checkout stand. “Sam, will you cover for me? I’m gonna find Derek and take a break.”

Sam glanced about the store. No other customers were in line on the slow Saturday evening. “Sure.” She rolled her eyes. Ashley and Derek were tight and liked to have a smoke from time to time in the alley. “Is he working tonight?”

Ashley didn’t answer. She was already gone, headed to the back in search of Derek. At this hour, he would be stocking an aisle or loading carts in the supply room. She liked Derek, a lot, even though he was two grades above her. He was so popular at school and athletic.

In the rear warehouse area, she flipped on the lights and looked around. No one stirred. A row of coat pegs lined the wall outside of the employee break room. Derek always hung his on the end. It was gone. She almost flipped off the light switch and went to find him on the aisles when it caught her eye. The exterior door, next to the loading dock bay entrance, sat slightly ajar. It let in just enough of the fading outdoor light to catch her attention. She grew giddy at what hung on the door handle, Derek’s green apron.

A sparkle shone in her eye.
I bet he’s outside having a smoke
. She went to the door and pushed out into the cement paved alley.
I could use a drag
.

Derek was only seventeen and, therefore, not supposed to have cigarettes. That was part of the reason Ashley liked him. He was a rebel, so mature.

She took off her apron so it wouldn’t smell of smoke and hung it on the handle with his. Rickety metal steps wobbled as she stepped to the ground and walked past the dumpsters. No one was around.

“Derek?” she called.

Silence.

Chapter Forty-Seven

R
icky pulled over and leaned his head forward, rested it against the top of the steering wheel, and closed his eyes. His hands trembled, and beads of sweat dampened his upper lip. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. Never before had he allowed himself to be so reckless. In truth, he had never wanted to be. Pushing the limits in privacy with his victims did not in any way represent how he comported himself in public. All of that, however, had just gone out the window.

When he went into the back door of the grocery market, he had done so with an open mind. Perhaps he might be able to find Josie alone, close enough to an exit to make a break with her. That was best-case scenario. Worst-case, he would get to spy on her from up close and personal. But when he found the rack of store aprons and hardly a soul in the place, Ricky decided to play cat and mouse. In his wildest dreams, he never imagined he would speak directly to Isaac, shake his hand, and pull off such an impromptu performance.

Now on the roadside with pulse pounding, he praised himself for such an audacious show of confidence and chastised himself for acting like an impulsive idiot. The events of his entire life had brought him to Josie. He would never forgive himself if he screwed up again.

“Shit, that was crazy.” His body shivered to release the tension. “Get it together,” he coached himself.

The grocery store event had provided valuable information. Ricky was certain that Isaac and Josie would not leave Taos until morning. They would stay at Tom and Helen’s one more night, and he had no reason to follow. He now had enough freedom in his schedule to set an ingenious trap. The idea was basic but not entirely simple, and he needed supplies for ultimate effect. He put the truck in drive and turned deliberate thoughts into actions.

The hardware store was his first stop on the list. A few necessary items were in order to set the ball in motion.

He paid for them in cash and asked the clerk, “Does anyone in town sell fireworks?”

“All the Fourth of July shops are closed,” the Native American-looking man explained. “This time of year, the only guy who might have some is on the edge of town. He sells Roman candles, bottle rockets, firecrackers, things like that. My kids love them.”

“Thanks, friend. You mind writing down the name and directions for me?”

“Sure.” He wrote the information on a yellow legal pad and tore it off. “Better hurry. Old Joe likes to close early on weekends. You might catch him if you get going.”

“Will do.” Bells rattled as he walked out the front door.

To have a real chance, he needed those fireworks. Certain details could not be overlooked, and this was one of them. Progress depended on Old Joe keeping his doors open for a few more minutes.

To Ricky’s delight, an “Open” sign flashed in Joe’s window. The little shop looked like it had once been a single-wide trailer that someone covered in tin. It sat off the road a few yards. Nothing but sage and desert surrounded it for miles and miles. The inside was just as ragtag as the exterior and happened to carry everything he needed. Again, he paid in cash.

Stocked up and back outside, he rejoiced in the early sunset of the Rocky Mountains. Darkness made everything easier, and the more hours of it he had, the sooner he could get things done.

Twenty minutes south of town, he turned off the pavement onto a nameless road marked on his GPS. A gravel and dirt lane led deep into the forest and far up a mountain. Time was of the essence. Tomorrow, his wits were a fundamental part of the trap. He had to prep everything and still have time to sleep.

Almost a half hour later and several thousand feet higher, Ricky found himself at his chosen destination. He had discovered it on Google Earth. The aerial computer program helped him find some of the best hiding places. Having boots on the ground, however, was still the best insurance policy.

The cabin looked better than he expected it to. All four log walls stood straight, and with the exception of a fallen pine on one corner of the roof, it appeared relatively whole. A sense of satisfaction enveloped him.

He quickly unloaded some gear and sensitive cargo. The inside wasn’t exactly the Ritz. He guessed that elk and deer hunters still used the dilapidated shanty during the fall and winter. Some things were newer than the building itself. A table with a plywood top sat against one wall. Two rope bed frames were pushed against another. No one had been there for months. His feet disturbed a solid coating of dust on the wooden plank floor, and he felt confident his things would not be bothered after he left. The clock ticked.

He retraced his route down the dusty logging tracks, up the highway through Taos, and out to the airport road. A glance in the rearview mirror revealed solitude. He stopped, turned off the engine, pushed the emergency brake in one notch, and restarted the pickup. The adjustment allowed him to override the automatic headlights and control them manually.

Even though his front beams were out, if he tapped the brakes, his tail lights would still glow bright red. To eliminate the need to slow down, he entered the grounds at a turtle pace. The lethargy aggravated him. Quick in and outs were best. He reminded himself of the tortoise and the hare and hoped the fable held true.

Inside the entrance, he found the first hangar and parked against the opposite side from the watchman’s office. Dressed in black, he stepped out and peeked around the corner. All was calm. At the far end of the buildings, a lone window glowed. The watchman was inside, no doubt bored and possibly snoozing on the job. Ricky felt sorry for the poor schmuck who had to be in a place night after night where nothing ever happened. But the scenario created a perfect working environment for himself.

Halfway between his hiding place and the office, the tie-down area had three airplanes tethered to the ground.
Excellent
.
Isaac won’t feel singled out
.

He shouldered his black backpack full of supplies from the hardware store. One cautious foot stepped around the hangar and then the next. He crept at first, low and slow. Certain the coast was clear, he sped to a run, keeping close to the walls for cover. His catlike frame darted across the distance, and he took shelter behind the fuselage of the first airplane.

Come morning, this particular crime would only be one amongst a long line of tipping dominos, a smooth chain reaction designed to drop Josie directly into his lap. And for that reason, he went to work with a practiced steadiness and determined mind. If he botched anything, Isaac might suspect foul play and go on high alert.

From the backpack, he extracted a can of spray paint and shook it vigorously. The Cessna Corvallis before him had a shiny white body and a sticker price of over a half-million dollars. He snickered before pressing the button, then spelled out “Rich Dick” in big green letters along the entire side. He slipped around the tail, a silhouette in a dream. Again, he sprayed “Rich Dick” from back to front. Fifty yards away, the light continued to glow inside the office window, but not a creature stirred.

Next, at a beautifully handcrafted kit plane, he changed to blue paint and altered the letters. The idea was to make it look like a group of punk kids had come through. On the sides, he wrote “Lucky Bastard” and sprayed a squiggly line up the vertical portion of the tail. Subtle differences would convince the police that more than one person had been involved.