12 Twelve Sharp (26 page)

I was now face to face with Scrog. He had the stun gun. I had a lot of rage.

'Bring it on,' I said to him. 'Come get me.'

Scrog cut his eyes to his car. Flat tire, and the Escalade was blocking his exit. The only way he was going to get me to go with him was to stun me and drag me. And if that wasn't bad enough, his foot was bleeding where he'd been shot.

He turned to leave, and I grabbed him by the back of his shirt and took him down to the sidewalk, cracking his head on the cement. I punched him in the face and then the son of a bitch did it again.

I was struggling to get to my feet, my brain still fried, and I realized the hands helping me stand belonged to Morelli. After a moment his face came into focus. His eyes were red-rimmed and shadowed from fatigue. His shirt was soaked in sweat.

'Jeez,' I said. 'You look like crap.'

'This is nothing. You should see Ranger. We worked through the night looking for you.'

'I got zapped again.'

'I heard. I was a couple blocks away, following a lead, when the call came in on the explosion and shooting. Joyce called it in. She wanted to make sure she got credit for her capture. She had Johnson cuffed to his steering wheel when we got here.'

'How is he?'

'Let's just say it wasn't necessary to cuff him. And if he ever gets out of jail, he'll remember to wear a seatbelt.'

'You have to get to Julie before Scrog. I know where she is. He's got her in a rusted-out motor home at the end of a dirt road. The road goes off Ledger. It looks like nothing is down there. You go past an abandoned house with a tar paper roof and then it's the next left.'

Morelli called it in.

'He can't have that much of a head start,' I said. 'Joyce shot him in the foot. And he didn't have a car. He had to steal one.'

'He got a car right away. He flagged a guy down and yanked him from behind the wheel and drove off. We got a description of the car, and it's already gone out. The driver didn't say anything about Scrog's foot. He said Scrog was bleeding from the nose.'

'I punched him.'

'And would you know how the Escalade happened to explode?'

'I had a bomb strapped to me, and when Scrog and Joyce were arguing I managed to work the bomb loose, and when it ripped free it flew into the street, and Johnson accidentally ran over it.'

'You had a bomb strapped to you,' Morelli said, sounding a little dazed.

'Scrog made it. It was only supposed to go off when he pushed the detonator, but obviously getting run over by an SUV could do it too.'

'You had a bomb strapped to you,' Morelli repeated.

'Yeah. It was really scary at first, but terror is a strange thing. It's such a strong emotion it can't sustain itself. After a while a numbness sets in, and the terror starts to feel normal. And that's a good thing because it allows you to function.'

Morelli hugged me against him. 'I need a new girlfriend. I need someone who doesn't wear bombs.'

'You're squeezing me too tight,' I said. 'I can't breathe.'

'I can't let go.'

'Look at me. I'm okay.'

'I'm not! I thought… I don't know what I thought, but I'm not sure I ever got to the numb-and-functioning stage. I've been at the terror level ever since you dropped off the radar screen.' He blew out a sigh. 'And where the hell did you get these pants? Half your ass is hanging out.'

We slowed when we reached the entrance to the dirt road and maneuvered around the cop cars that had been first on the scene. We'd already heard the motor home was deserted, but I wanted to see with my own eyes. A uniform was ringing the area with crime scene tape. One of the first cars in was a black Range Man SUV. No reason for Ranger to remain hidden. Everyone knew about Scrog.

Morelli and I ducked under the tape and went to the motor home. The door was open. There were blood splotches on the steps leading in. I went inside and raised the shades and pulled taped cardboard off windows. The shackles were still chained to the bed, but Julie was gone. Scrog had cleared out in a hurry. He'd left the wigs and the few pieces of clothing he possessed behind. It looked to me like he grabbed Julie and took off. Even at that, I was surprised he hadn't run into the police.

Ranger was standing hands on hips, waiting for me when I came out of the motor home. Morelli was right. Ranger didn't look good. Our eyes met and a very, very small smile played at the corners of his mouth.

'I'm okay,' I said to Ranger. 'And Julie was okay when I left her this morning.'

Morelli was behind me. 'Find anything?' he asked Ranger.

'Scrog had a back door. The green Dodge that's parked here is the car he took on Stark Street. It looks to me like he went through the woods with Julie. If you follow the trail he left, you come to another dirt road. He probably had a car stashed there. There are fresh tire treads on the road. Tank is walking the road. I'm going to drive out and meet him.'

Meri Maisonet and a guy in a dress shirt and suit pants walked toward us. I crooked an eyebrow at Ranger.

'Feds,' Ranger said.

I looked at Morelli. 'Did you know?'

'Yeah. I knew.'

'And you didn't tell me.'

'Nope,' Morelli said.

I gave him a raised eyebrow that shouted angry girlfriend.

'Keep me in the loop,' Ranger said. And he jogged to his car.

'What are you doing now?' I asked Morelli.

'This ties to my homicide. I'm going to stay here and get the crime lab started. I'll get a uniform to take you home… wherever that is.'

'I'm going to my parents' house. My mother owes me a cake.'

'Where were you?' Grandma asked me. 'You look like you've been on an all-night bender.'

'I was working. I'm going upstairs to take a shower and change my clothes.'

Here's one of the great things about going home. Whatever clothes happen to be left in my mother's care magically get cleaned and pressed. I don't leave a lot of clothes there, but whatever's in the closet is ready to go. Nothing stays left in a heap on the floor.

I stood in the shower until I ran out of hot water. I brushed my teeth three times. I fluffed my hair dry and pulled it back into a ponytail. I got dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and went downstairs in search of food.

I settled on a chunk of leftover lasagna. I took it to the table and forked into it cold. It seemed like a lot of effort to nuke it. I could see my mother trying hard not to interfere, but I knew she really wanted to heat the stupid lasagna. I dragged myself out of my chair and slid the lasagna into the microwave. My mother looked enormously relieved. Her daughter wasn't a total loser. She heated her lasagna like a civilized person. I took the warm lasagna back to the table and dug in.

My mother gave me a padded envelope. 'Before I forget, this just came for you. A young man dressed in black delivered it while you were in the shower.'

'One of them RangeMan hunks,' Grandma said.

I looked in the envelope and found the two cell phones I left in the parking lot, plus the keys to my Mini. I went to the living room and peered out to the street. The Mini was parked at the curb. I went back to the kitchen and finished the lasagna.

'Are you going shopping for a new band outfit today?' I asked Grandma.

'I gave up on the band,' Grandma said. 'I threw my back out with all that wiggling around. I had to sleep on the heating pad all night. I don't know how those rock-and-roll people do it. Some of those people are as old as me.'

'Nobody's as old as you,' my father yelled from the living room. 'You're older than dirt.'

'Yeah, but I'm pretty good for being so old,' Grandma said. 'I'm thinking I might be better with getting a gig as one of them piano bar singers. I could wear one of them slinky dresses with the slit up the side.'

When I was done with the lasagna I plodded upstairs to my bedroom, flopped onto the bed, and crawled under the covers. I was exhausted. I needed a couple hours of sleep before rejoining the hunt for Julie. Probably there were better-equipped people than me out there, but I'd make whatever contribution I could.

Grandma hovered over me. 'Are you awake?' she asked.

'I am now.'

'We're eating. I figured you'd want to know.'

'I'll be down right away.'

I sat on the edge of the bed and called Morelli. 'Anything?'

'No. This guy is good at disappearing.'

'I think part of his success is that he thinks ahead and then he moves fast. He was already on the plane heading north before the word went out in Miami. He was out of the parking garage with me in the trunk of his car before anyone realized the panic button was left behind. And he had a car ready and waiting to make an exit from the motor home. And I'm betting he knew exactly where he wanted to go.'

'Most people at this stage would just keep driving. Put as much distance as possible between point A and point B.'

'He talked about going to Mexico to start a new life, but I don't think he can do that until he gets his fantasy together. I think he has to get rid of Ranger first.'

'I can identify with that one,' Morelli said.

I disconnected Morelli and called Ranger.

'Are you okay?' I asked him.

'I'm managing.'

'Any luck?'

'It's like the earth swallowed this guy.'

'He needs to eliminate you before he can move on.'

'Many have tried. None have succeeded. Tell me about Julie.'

'She was a little bedraggled-looking, but she seemed healthy. She's a lot like you. Brave and resilient. She said she hadn't been molested. I think women might be something Scrog needs to acquire to play his role, but I don't think he's a sexual deviant. He's constructed this weird world for himself. It's like he moves in and out of a game. And he kills people who get in his way. I think Julie will be safe with him. At least for a while.'

'Do you have any idea where he might be hiding?'

'I don't think he'll go far. He gets food and spare change by robbing convenience stores. He goes out early in the morning and brings back a couple bags of candy bars and snack cakes. You might be able to do something with that. And he's going to be stalking you. Aside from that, I just don't know.'

'What's your plan?'

'I don't have much of a plan. I'm at my parents' house right now, but I think I'll go back to my apartment tonight. Morelli's in his own house, and you don't need to camp out anymore. That leaves Rex all by himself.'

'Are you evicting me?'

'Yes.'

'We have unfinished business,' Ranger said.

'We always have unfinished business. Just out of morbid curiosity, how would you define your role in my life?'

'I'm dessert,' he said.

'Something that gives me pleasure, but isn't especially good for me?'

'Something that could never be the base of your food pyramid.'

See, here's where I was in trouble. Dessert was the base of my food pyramid!

I was holding a bag of leftovers from my mom, and a bag of clean clothes, plus the shoulder bag I'd left in the Mini when I changed cars in the parking lot. I juggled the bags, fumbled with the key, and let myself into my dark, quiet apartment. I maneuvered into the kitchen and dumped everything on the counter.

Rex was on his wheel, running, running, running. I tapped on the case and said hello. It was good to be home. Good to be alone. Ranger had just very nicely uncomplicated my life. Don't count on me to be meat and potatoes, babe. Decent of him to be honest. Not that I didn't already know it. Still, it helped to have it articulated. I blew out a sigh. Who was I kidding? It didn't help at all. Any more than the attempt to come back to my apartment and normalize my life helped to erase Julie from my thoughts. Julie Martine was a dull ache in my chest. The ache was constant, and all the more painful since I had no clue how to help in her search. At least when I was bait I had some purpose. I was sidelined now, left with nothing to do but wait. I couldn't imagine what it must be like for her mom. Truly terrible.

I pulled a package of sliced turkey out of the leftover bag. Some rolls fresh from the bakery. A wedge of chocolate cake. And then… sizzle. Again. Shit!

I didn't have a lot of furniture. A table and four chairs in the dining room. A couch and a comfy chair in the living room. A television on a low chest. A coffee table in front of the couch. When I came around I was in the living room, facing in such a way that I could see people entering from the little entrance foyer. I was sitting on a dining room chair, held to it by electrician's tape, my hands painfully cuffed behind the chair.

Julie was slumped in the single comfy chair. Her face was ghost-white and slack. Her eyes were drugged slits, barely open, unseeing. Her hands lay loose in her lap.

'What did you do to her?' I asked Scrog.

'She's okay. Just knocked out. I had to leave the motor home in a hurry. I didn't have time to make another bomb. Easier to zap her and give her a shot.'

'How did you get in here?'

'I used a pick I bought on the Internet.'

Scrog looked terrible. He had blood all over him from when I'd punched him in the nose. His eyes were black and swollen. His lip was cut. His foot was still in his shoe, and the shoe was wrapped around and around with the electrician's tape. He was sitting in the living room with me, in another of my dining room chairs, pulled to the side, out of view from the front door. He had a gun in his hand.

'I feel sick,' I whispered, head down. I was dripping drool and snot and my stomach was in a nauseous free fall. I was scared and horrified, and I'd been stun-gunned one too many times.

'Are you gonna throw up?'

'Yeah.'

He limped to the bathroom and came back with the wastebasket just in time for me to fill it with my mother's roast chicken and chocolate cake.

'That's disgusting,' he said.

'Maybe if you'd stop stun-gunning me…'

He limped back to the bathroom, and I heard him flush the toilet. He limped back and eased himself into his chair.

'You look like you could use some of the joy juice you gave Julie,' I said to him.

'I took some Advil.'