A Cold Day in Hell (22 page)

Wazoo rested a cheek on top of Hoover’s head and her long hair fell to cover her face and cascade over the dog.

Aaron thought the lady was beautiful and mysterious, like an Egyptian princess in a long, black-and-purple lace dress. Not that he was sure how an Egyptian princess was supposed to look.

Silence went on for what felt like forever. Each time Aaron looked at Chuzah, he met the same dark stare but wasn’t certain the man saw him at all.

“How can this work with another dog in here?” Aaron said suddenly. He hadn’t thought about how quiet and watchful Locum was, or that Hoover didn’t react to him at all.

Chuzah raised one finger to his lips. Looking back at Wazoo and Hoover, Aaron felt as if he’d been told off.

Flinging back her hair, Wazoo lifted her head a little. She spoke to the dog in a voice too low to be heard and Hoover rested his big head on her knee. Aaron thought the animal’s eyes were closed.

“He is shy, him,” Wazoo said. “He steals things—”

“
Steals
them?” Aaron said.

“They don’t belong to him, no way,” she told him. “He steals things to make him feel like he’s the important one. Him, he likes touch, likes hands on him. When he steals, he gets those hands real quick. You got two choices with this boy. Don’t you take notice of him and he’ll steal and chew and give it up in the end—probably die in some corner of a broken heart. Or put your hands on him a whole lot when his mouth is empty. You’re welcome.”

After seconds passed, Aaron figured that was it. He was out of here. “Thank you,” he said, pulling Delia’s money from his pocket and holding it out.

Somehow Wazoo’s fingers moved so quick and smooth it felt like no bills had been in Aaron’s hand in the first place.

Chuzah stood. He said, “We’ll meet again,” to Wazoo and left. Not a word to Aaron.

“You and Chuzah are old friends?” Aaron said.

Wazoo massaged Hoover gently. “Nope. We just made acquaintance. A courtesy from the gentleman. A welcome to share his place.” She gave Aaron the end of the leash, and rang a shiny bell she had on the ground beside her.

With Hoover a little wobbly beside him, Aaron went out into the din, the sparkle, the whirl of people and colors. He found Delia and told her what had been said about the dog—and got an odd look from her. “Is that so?” But when he got a few yards away again and glanced back, she had crouched to give Hoover a hug.

“Here you go, young man.”

He automatically took the pamphlets Miz Lobelia Forestier thrust into his hands from the bulging canvas bag she carried. She had moved on before he’d seen that she’d given him a list of emergency services in Pointe Judah and a map of the town.

A man passed him, running, dodging when he had to, but going fast. Uncle Finn. People stopped to watch him.

Carley from the police station hurried by, then Matt Boudreaux overtook her. Something was definitely up.

Aaron started to follow, but looked over his shoulder at the same time. Emma walked toward him, slowed down by the baby, and she looked like she was trying not to cry. He went to her and awkwardly patted her arm. “Don’t cry,” he said.

She grabbed his hand and squeezed harder than a lady should be able to. He wanted to wiggle his fingers loose but Emma walked on, still holding his hand.

“What’s wrong?” Aaron asked, and she let go of the tears. She shook and made choking sounds. “You’re gonna be ill,” he told her.

They were passing the band and Aaron wondered vaguely why they stood there with instruments silent. Bugbelly saw Emma and hurried to her with a chair. “You sit there, Miz Duhon,” he said. “You can’t help. We all need to wait and see what they want us to do.”

Emma sat but she didn’t let go of Aaron’s hand. “Your mother’s going to be fine,” she said. “She can’t have just disappeared. Or her van. Eileen must have decided—” she paused to swallow “—she took a drive somewhere. That’s what she did.”

A
ll those things broke.

She was damp. Cold. Her eyes wouldn’t open.

Angel?

Sounds, louder and louder. Frogs and things squeaking, rustling, creaking. Popping, sucking, popping, sucking. Water really close.

That man, Bucky Smith, died of a heart attack.
They said that. A heart attack when he got pushed in the fryer.

“Help me.” She heard her voice. “It’s Eileen.”

Her head ached, it thumped inside. And the side of her forehead, the side on the ground, stung. She should turn her face.

“Two,”
the man had said. That was all.

He breathed loudly, in short breaths. Like he was frightened?

She was warmer now, and the ground, the little stones turned softer.

“Angel?” she whispered.

D
elia's marquee had been turned into Matt’s operations center. Things moved fast and there were already volunteers from law enforcement in other towns on their way. The FBI was standing by. They had already started work on Bucky’s murder.

Angel, flanked by Sonny and Aaron, watched as maps were pinned to standing boards. The professionals were cool and efficient, moving rapidly through a protocol they had applied too many times before.

Outside the striped canvas, shadows of fair-goers passed, some hurrying, some taking time to look in the marquee. Most of these people were friends of Eileen, or at least they knew her; many had already congregated at a designated meeting point, waiting for search instructions.

“The darkness is going to make it tough,” Matt said. “A miracle would be welcome but I don’t guess we’ll be makin’ much progress before dawn.”

Angel knew all about the dark. He wouldn’t be waiting for dawn. He took a few steps backward.

“Mom can’t be out there in the dark alone,” Aaron said. The temperature might have been cool, but sweat shone on his face. “Do you think she went for a drive?” He looked at Angel as if he had all the answers.

“She is out there,” Angel said, gripping Aaron’s arm. “And we’re going to find her. I need you to be calm. I know what I’m doing and we’re not wasting any more time here.”

“Gotcha,” Sonny said. This kid had already seen and been through too much for his age, and it gave him an edge tonight.

Chuck Moggeridge pushed his way into the marquee. He’d have to be Oscar material to look as frantic as he did if he wasn’t on the verge of losing control.

Dropping all the way back behind the throng, Angel led Aaron and Sonny outside.

A crowd had assembled there and they weren’t talking. On either side of them people—most of them with children—scurried to clear the area.

“Go to the right,” Angel said. He saw Dr. Mitch Halpern hovering, alone and watchful. “We could use you,” Angel told him and the man fell in immediately.

“Where do we start?” Mitch asked.

“Thank God for someone who thinks we should get started,” Angel said. “Scratch that. I’ve got to learn that I can’t run every show.”

Mitch chuckled. “You can run any show like this one for me.”

The boys were too quiet, but Angel didn’t have time to do any counseling. “I’ve got a radio,” he said. “I registered it with the cops so they can get to me—and I can get to them.” He didn’t mention that he also had his Glock. “Start close and work outward makes the best sense. The first thing is to check out where Eileen’s van was parked and then go over the surrounding area…for clues,” he added rapidly.

“Or Mom,” Aaron said, breathless when they’d hardly started. “Mom could be around here.”

“Sure, she could,” Mitch said.

“She’s dead,” Aaron said. “If she wasn’t, we’d know it.”

“Don’t you do that,” Sonny said loudly. “Panic plays with your brain. You can’t think straight. So shut up and follow orders.”

Grimacing, Angel didn’t try to soften what Sonny had said.

They ran down an alley between the shops toward the area of open ground behind where everyone parked when Main Street was full.

Cars left the field in a nose-to-tail stream. Angel went to the spot where the van had been parked and said, “Damn it. Why wasn’t this taped off?”

A pale-colored, rusty pickup was parked there.

“This is what happens when the local police are shorthanded and someone doesn’t act on an order,” Angel added.

Two men jogged to the pickup and opened its doors.

“When did you park here?” Mitch Halpern said.

One of the men laughed. The other said, “What’s it to you?”

“Was the spot empty when—” Angel stopped himself. His gray cells were starting to stick together. “Sorry to break in on you, but was someone pulling out of this spot when you got here? Did you have to wait for them?”

More laughter.

“It’s important,” Angel said. “There was a van right here and we think someone could have been carjacked in it.”

“No
shit,
” the guy on the driver’s side said. Both men were probably in their late twenties or early thirties and Angel thought he’d seen them in one of Duhon’s construction crews. “It was empty, man. We only took a drive through just in case. Looked like the place was full.”

“How long ago was that?” Angel said.

He got twin shrugs before the driver said, “Maybe fifteen minutes. We just had to stop in at Buzz’s for somethin’. Here—” he ripped a scrap of paper from a brown bag he carried, pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and wrote “—our phone number. I’m Jim Pence. That’s my little brother, Ace.”

“You work for Duhon’s?” Angel asked.

They did and he took the paper feeling secure about getting in touch with them again if he had to.

Mitch got some powerful flashlights from his car and he and Angel started to search the parking space. “Lanterns are part of a doctor’s kit in these parts. It doesn’t happen often, but I’ve been called to more than one place where they used oil lamps. Try delivering a baby using only oil lamps.”

“I’ll pass on that,” Angel said.

“There isn’t anything to see,” Aaron almost shouted. “Why are we wasting time here?”

“To make sure there’s nothing,” Sonny told him. He thumped Aaron’s shoulder. “We gotta keep going. We can’t let down now. Eileen needs us. She’s out here somewhere. Either someone’s driven off with her, or she’s driving around on her own. Hey, Angel, did you two have a fight?”

“A what?” Mitch Halpern said.

Angel wanted to cuff smart-mouthed Sonny but that could come later. “Eileen and I didn’t have a cross word.”

“Not even when you didn’t like being at the stall?” Aaron said, shoving his hands hard into his pockets and giving Angel a glare.

“We weren’t fighting…. Ah, hell no, Aaron. C’mon, I want this field looked at. Sonny’ll go with you, Mitch.”

“We’re looking for clues,” Aaron said. He rested a fist against his mouth. “Things that might lead to finding Mom’s body.”

“You’re with me,” Angel said and took Aaron by the arm. Immediately, the boy flung him off and stalked away, looking around in the dark. Angel caught up with him and started moving his flashlight beam back and forth over the gravel and grass.

Aaron turned away again, and Angel followed.

They walked side by side then, all the way to the end of the field. When he flashed the light toward the undergrowth and bushes, he heard Aaron choke off a sob.

“All I’m doing is working a grid. We’ll gradually move out until we’ve covered everything here. It’s not big.” He put a hand on Aaron’s shoulder and felt the muscles and tendons jerk like steel cable. This time he didn’t get shaken away.

The radio crackled and he tuned in. “Angel, here,” he said into the collar mike he wore.

“Where are you?” It was Matt.

“Searching the overflow parking area,” he responded and controlled the urge to add that the job should already have been done, that the slot where Eileen had been parked should be taped off.

“I thought that was already done,” Matt said, the connection buzzing and breaking up.

“What’s up?” Angel wouldn’t waste effort shooting the breeze.

A short period of sounds like a road drill bouncing on rock followed.

“Matt, you there?” Angel said.

“Yes. We’ve found the van. It was just called in.”

Sonny and Mitch had returned and the four of them stood in a close group. “And?” Angel said. He stuck his teeth into his bottom lip to stop it trembling. His mouth was trembling, dammit. What was wrong with him?

“She’s not in it, Angel. It’s in a cul-de-sac out at The Willows site. In Division Five.”

“Nothing’s been started in Five, yet.”

“No,” Matt said. “That’s why the van was spotted. I’m on my way there.”

“So am I.” Angel ran for the exit from the lot. Footsteps pounded just behind him all the way to the corner of Cotton Alley where he made a left toward Main Street. The others kept coming, too.

He’d eaten dinner at Ona’s and she insisted he leave his truck there and walk to the fair. Parked on the first end he came to, the crew cab shone in lights from the windows. Out Front looked empty inside. A murder on the premises, in the kitchen, could dampen appetites that usually ate there.

“We’ll all fit,” Sonny said, and added, “Good thing you didn’t come on your bike.”

Angel unlocked the doors and the four of them piled in.

They drove south a way, then up through the high-rent district around the golf club. He’d been told Emma used to live there when she was in a bad marriage to a former Pointe Judah mayor, before she and Finn met.

Several miles and they reached the First Division at The Willows. It was all built up and there was plenty of evidence of occupation.

“It’s good you know your way around here,” Mitch said. “I’d be useless.”

“Yeah.” Angel leaned forward, peering ahead.

“Cop cars,” Sonny said. He gripped the back of Angel’s seat. “Loads of ’em. See the flashing?”

“We’d have to be blind not to,” Aaron snapped back. “Why’d you let her go to the parking lot on her own, Angel?”

“I didn’t, God dammit.” His gut felt like it slammed against his spine. “I went to the bathroom. Suky-Jo was back and I told Eileen to wait for me before she ran to the van. She didn’t wait. She told Suky-Jo she needed to get something and she’d only be gone a second.”

He reached the row of cruisers, three of them, and an emergency-aid vehicle. And he saw the van where floods were being erected and the white glare came on.

Throwing open his door, he jumped out and approached fast.

“Watch it,” Matt said when he saw him. “You boys stay back.”

“It’s my mother you’re looking for,” Aaron yelped.

“Do as you’re told,” Angel told him. “We don’t want to mess with any evidence.”

Aaron passed him and Angel grabbed him back. “Evidence to find the murderer, right?” Aaron said. He crumpled and almost fell before he staggered back the way he’d come.

“Stay with him,” Angel told Sonny. “Matt, what are you seeing?”

“Forensics—”

“Sure, they’re taking over.” He watched the team going through a drill that looked like it had been performed many times.

“A whole lot of stuff in the back’s broken,” Matt said. He put some distance between himself and the van—and Aaron. “This is just guesswork right now, but we think someone was thrown in the back of the van on top of everything,” he told Angel and Mitch.

A woman swathed in white got closer to the back of the abandoned vehicle and took pictures. From the way she pointed the camera and moved it only fractionally, Angel could tell she was shooting one area from different angles.

Angel narrowed his eyes but couldn’t make out any details. “What’s she so interested in?” he asked.

Matt took a very long time to draw in a breath and say, “There’s a dent in the left rear door. Looks like there’s some blood there. And maybe a hair or two.”