Blood Stained (15 page)

Jenna stopped, trying to read Bob's expression in the dim light. "You don't think he's there, do you? You think the killer had a partner."

"Or maybe he's not dead. I'm not sure. FBI sure wouldn't agree. But I can't help but wonder why Rachel Strohmeyer never gave us a statement. If the killer was dead, why wouldn't she? But if he was alive and threatening her…"

"You think her missing boyfriend might be the killer?" No, he'd be much too young to have begun a decade or more ago. "No. You think he might be a hostage? After all this time? Or a partner?"

He shrugged. "I don't know what to think anymore. Until you showed up, I thought I was the only person still asking questions. Wondering if I'd screwed up."

"How is that?"

There was a long silence. He took her hand once more as he led her over the narrow ledge with the drop off on the other side. He didn't let go once they were back on safe ground.

"Guess I can't stop thinking that if I'd gone with Lucy, if I'd been in that cave with her, maybe she wouldn't have gotten hurt and we could have saved Marion Caine."

<><><>

Taking the fish at the cabin in the middle of the Cuyahoga National Forest was ridiculously easy. Everyone let their guard down when they left the city. 

Morgan liked the forest. Sounds were muffled. You could hear someone approach, but you also didn't need to worry about anyone hearing you until they were close. The thick foliage, hemlocks and rhododendrons, provided cover even now in the middle of winter.

Plus, it was peaceful. All the better to focus on the job at hand.

Clint let Morgan handle it all: from first approach to entry to subduing the fish with the stun gun. Then they were both inside the cabin with the fish on the floor between them. After that, everything happened just the way they planned.

Morgan skinned the fish of her clothing, then stood back to guard the only exit while Clint took his time getting to know her. The fish kept staring at Morgan, reaching a hand out. Idiot. Big mistake, thinking because Morgan was so young that was where salvation lay.

It always made Morgan laugh when they did that. It was so much fun to see their faces when Morgan knelt beside them, brushed their hair back oh so tenderly, then pressed cold steel to their cheeks, the point resting just below their eye.

Power. Sheer intoxicating power. Delightful the way it rushed through the veins.

Morgan first discovered the rush playing with a stray cat back in Kansas. Then playing mind games with the fish who called themselves parents. But the games Clint taught Morgan? They opened a whole new world.

A world Morgan never tired of. Not as long as there were fish in the sea.

Chapter 14

When Lucy got to the sheriff's substation in the old Dairy Treat, she found the front counter where people used to order soft serve now served as a reception desk manned by a civilian aide. She identified herself and was buzzed through the door to the former kitchen area.

The sheriff's department had made only the bare minimum of changes. Budget constraints no doubt. After all, this entire substation existed only to assuage voter anxiety after finding a monster in their midst. Wasn't like New Hope was a high crime area. And with a staff of only seven deputies, no way the sheriff could maintain a presence here. Probably more like a quick stop once a day as they patrolled this side of the county.

The original white tile walls remained, along with stainless steel counters running the length of the room. The walk-in freezer's door had been replaced with a metal mesh security door to create a makeshift holding facility. The pantry door now had a window in its top half. Interview room, Lucy surmised. 

Jenna had made herself at home. The postal inspector had commandeered a desk, computer, a sheriff's deputy, and what looked to be the only coffee pot. Not to mention someone's coffee mug. She and the deputy, William Bob, were head to head, deep in conversation. When they caught sight of Lucy, they broke away abruptly.

"Hey, Lucy," Jenna called out as if she hadn't just seen Lucy a few hours ago. "You know Deputy Bob, right?"

Bob hadn't changed in four years: still clean-shaven, with teeth so white they'd squeak if you ran your finger across them. But his smile wasn't for Lucy, it was aimed at Jenna, even as he straightened and shook Lucy's hand. "Nice to see you again, ma'am. Let me know if there's anything I can get you."

Jenna shooed him away with a gesture. He turned, took a few steps, grabbed a second coffee mug from the counter, rushed back to press it into Lucy's hands, then left through the security door to the reception area.

"Did he just ma'am me?" Lucy asked, holding her cup out for Jenna to fill. Reminding the postal inspector who was boss.

"Don't be upset. He did it to me, too. While I fought the urge to card him. But damn, these Pennsylvania country boys are fine specimens of humanity. Now I see the attraction."

Lucy shook her head. Bob was the same age as Jenna and, living out here where he had daily contact with the people he worked to protect and serve, probably had seen more of reality than the postal inspector, despite her big city upbringing. "Glad you've had a good morning, because I'm about to ruin your afternoon."

"What happened? Did you find Caine?"

"I did. Actually he found me. Turns out that's what all this fuss was about. A misguided attempt to reach out to me." She didn't go into all the details. No need to unveil Adam's personal troubles.

"Great. So where is he? In the car?" Lucy said nothing. Jenna lowered her feet to the floor with a loud thump. "Don't tell me you let my fugitive go?"

"He's just a kid."

"He's
my
kid. It's my jurisdiction. My case. Officially you're not even here." 

"It was a judgment call."

Jenna's expression mirrored one Lucy usually saw on Megan. "Next time at least do me the courtesy of asking my opinion about my case. If you don't mind, Supervisory Special Agent Guardino."

Lucy didn't take the bait. She'd had enough of adolescents for one day. "Let me call into Walden and we'll head home."

Jenna frowned, looked disappointed. "I thought you wanted to re-open the New Hope killer case."

"I wanted to make sure there was no threat to my family. We've done that."

"Maybe you've done that. Maybe. But I spent the morning going over the New Hope case. A lot happened after you were removed from it." Jenna's polite way of saying after Lucy became a victim instead of an investigator. No longer privy to the after-action reports, forensic analysis, or witness statements. "Did you know one of the victims you saved that day was an Amish girl named Rachel Strohmeyer?"

"Mennonite. And the other an undergrad from University of North Carolina. Why?"

"Strohmeyer's family lives just down the valley. But after you saved her, she didn't go back home."

"Where is she?" Lucy cursed her curiosity. If they left now, she'd be home in time for Megan's soccer practice.

"Here in New Hope. Lives in a trailer with a suspected meth dealer. I have directions if you want to pay her a visit. From what Bob says, she might need our help more than the Caine kid."

"Why the sudden concern? Strohmeyer didn't send any threatening letters via the United States Mail."

"Never met an Amish chick before. Plus, Bob said he was worried about her. Said he's certain the boyfriend's abusive but she'd never talk to him after neighbors called in complaints. Thought maybe a woman's touch would help."

So Jenna had a soft touch for victims of domestic violence? Lucy wondered how long that would last. The things they saw working felony sexual assaults and crimes against children—some people, no matter how well trained or motivated, just couldn't handle it.

"Okay. We'll stop on our way out of town." Lucy pulled the car keys from her pocket. Jenna promptly snagged them.

"I'll drive."

<><><>

Having the truck turned out to be a blessing. Instead of going to Thomson's Hardware and risk being spotted by Lucy or one of her cop friends, Adam drove over the mountain and into Huntingdon where there was a Walmart.

Everything he needed. One stop shopping. With the cash from Sally's freezer, he didn't have to limit himself to what he could steal. It was a strange feeling, pulling items off the shelf without worrying about security alarms or armed guards chasing him.

Somehow not as much fun—but also no knot bouncing in his stomach with each step. No need to constantly be on the look out for security cameras, RFID inventory labels, or nosy sales clerks. For the first time ever, he felt, well, normal as he walked through the aisles with their shiny displays calling out to him:
buy me, buy me.

Maybe it was the boots. They made him walk tall, no slouching. And they rang out each step, making it impossible to hide. His heels stung with new blisters so he wouldn't be able to run again, not like he had from Lucy.

He added three down sleeping bags to his cart. Scooped in more flashlights. A porta-toilet with a seat—Sally would like that. Moving in jerky movements like the maniacs he used to avoid on the streets, he filled the cart. Duct tape. Rope. Socks. First aid kit. Dehydrated food rations.

Clatter, thud, ker-plump
, he threw them all in. Not even reading labels. Too focused on not hitting anything. His anger at Lucy mounted. Should have never counted on her to make things right. Had to take care of this himself. There was only him. No one else. No one he could trust. No one who could save the kids.

He stopped. Knives. An entire wall filled with knives. Hanging in bright plastic sleeves that glistened in the overhead fluorescent lights like tinsel hanging from a Christmas tree. Short blades, long blades, multi-function, fixed, folded, serrated, straight, double-edged.

He didn't need another knife. He had his dad's. Razor sharp. Perfect for cutting what needed cutting.

But… His gaze fastened onto a Gerber Covert FAST. Titanium coated blade. One handed opening. If he had it, he could save Dad's knife. Use this one for workaday stuff like getting all this shit out of the plastic boxes they came in. It was so shiny.

 He examined the knife; the overhead light reflected from the plastic wrappings at a strange angle, making the blade look red. Or maybe that was just his memory.

Either way, by the time he turned down the aisle with toys and coloring books, the knife was safely tucked away in his pocket, its wrappings kicked beneath the bottom shelf. You didn't pay cash. Not for a knife you were planning on using. A knife like that deserved the risk and thrills and effort that came from stealing it.

Suddenly he felt like himself again.

He had a plan—or the beginnings of one. After loading up on games and crayons and sketch pads, he realized he needed one more thing. Marty. He couldn't be sure about Marty. Darrin would be fine, but Marty… He hated the thought of treating family like fish. 

It was all Lucy's fault. If only—never mind. He'd just have to risk Marty. Like Dad always said, sometimes you just had to go all in. That's where the fun was. The rush that told you you were alive.

He pushed the cart around a corner too fast and almost ran down two middle-aged women. Something about his face must have scared them because they scurried off faster than jackrabbits. He ignored them. Chain. Heavy as it rattled to the bottom of the cart. And locks, strong locks. Just in case.

No stun guns here in Walmart, although there were plenty of shoot-you-dead pistols and rifles and shotguns. Dad never relied on any one tool. If the stun gun didn't do the job, he'd use his bare hands or a cloth smothered in an adhesive remover made of chloroform. Adam turned away from the gun aisle and rolled his cart down the cleaning supply aisle.

Better safe than sorry.

Chapter 15

"Deputy Bob seemed upset he wasn't the one coming with you," Lucy observed as Jenna spun the Taurus out of the sheriff's station with a yank of the steering wheel. The postal inspector drove like a mailman, all jerks and stops and lurching leaps forward. Or maybe that was how people drove in L.A.

"Oh him. He's just a fetch and carry flirt."

"A what?"

"You know. A guy you flirt with to get him to fetch and carry. Doesn't mean anything."

"I'm not sure Bob would agree." Jenna's callous attitude surprised Lucy. She couldn't get a handle on the postal inspector. Had a feeling it was because she hadn't actually met the real Jenna Galloway yet. Just one mask after another. "Not very PC of you."

Jenna snorted. "Oh please. Sexual equality is bullshit and you know it. Don't tell me you never used your womanly charms to get what you wanted."

"Undercover, maybe. If it went with the role. But otherwise, no."

"Let me guess. Married your childhood sweetheart, haven't looked at another guy since." Jenna's voice dripped with disdain. And something more. An undercurrent of envy? 

Lucy didn't answer. Mainly because Jenna was right. She and Nick were college sweethearts; she'd never met another man who made her feel like he did. "Guess I'm just lucky," she answered. "Found the right guy early."

"You mean you settled for a guy. Humans aren't meant to be monogamous. Mate for life like wolves. Which is one of the reasons they're going extinct."

"Does poor old fetch and carry Bob know what you think of him?"

"He's not an idiot. I'm sure he knows the score without me telling him." Jenna glanced over at Lucy. "I'm not a slut. I'm just a healthy woman who enjoys men—plural—any way I can get them."

Implying Lucy was some old biddy who couldn't get with the times. Maybe she was. She grew up not so far from here and even though she'd lived in Atlanta and DC, she never really left those small town sensibilities behind. Or maybe it was the security Nick offered after spending her days immersed in the extremes of human sexuality and witnessing first hand the damage it could do.

Lucy answered, "And I'm a healthy woman who enjoys her man—singular—any way I can get him."