Blood Stained (24 page)

Bob left the car, jumped through the snow like Neil Armstrong landing on the moon, then stood at the front door, shaking snow from his pant legs. He unlocked the door, moved inside and lights began to shine through the windows. Finally he returned and opened Adam's door.

"Careful, it's slippery." Bob guided Adam's head so he didn't hit it on the door frame. They tramped through the snow into the old Dairy Treat. "Sorry the heat's not up yet, but when it does, you'll be roasting. It's all or none around here."

Adam looked around. He spotted one camera above the security door aimed out over the reception space. Bob used his keycard to unlock the inner door, then took him into the rear work area. 

"You need anything, kid?" he asked, not unkindly, as he sat Adam in a plain metal chair at one of the battered desks. He removed one of his handcuffs and attached it to the chair arm. "Coffee or water? Maybe a pop?"

Adam shook his head, slouching in the chair so his legs were hidden under the desk. He'd blown it. Dad would never come get him from jail. He always said anyone who couldn't outsmart a cop deserved to be locked up.

This was Adam's second time being stupid enough to get arrested. True, the first time in Cleveland, he took the fall so Morgan could escape. But still, he'd gotten caught. Just like a fish. In Dad's reckoning, that was all that counted.

Once Adam was secure, Bob set Adam's personal items out on a shelf against the front wall. "We'll inventory them for you, don't worry." Then the deputy shed his parka, hung his hat, and slid into his chair all without turning his back on Adam. "I know you've been through the system and you know I can't question you without a parent or guardian. So I'm not asking anything for the record, you understand. But you had Jenna—Inspector Galloway—pretty riled up. About a letter you sent?"

"Yes sir. I'm sorry I did it. Told that to Lucy. Agent Guardino."

"You sent the letter to Agent Guardino?"

"Yes sir. It was a big mistake. I just," Adam shrugged and swallowed back a sudden lump in his throat, "didn't know who else to go to." His arms and legs felt leaden as he realized the enormity of his mistake. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He'd lost Dad. Lost everything. 

The kids would be okay. They had plenty of food and water. He wasn't sure how long the heater's fuel would last, but it never got too cold in the caves. They'd be fine. Except he wasn't sure what the hell to do about them. If he told, he'd be in big trouble. Kidnapping? That was heavy-duty time.

Worse, they'd send them all back to their no-good families. He blinked against the memories of Marty crying, Darrin suffering alone in the dark, Sally trying so hard to take care of a mother who was so out of it, she didn't even know Sally existed.

They deserved better. They deserved to be with someone who loved them like Adam did. Like Dad did.

How the hell could he make that happen if he was locked up?

Bob interrupted Adam's whirlwind thoughts. "I know what happened. To your mom. What you saw." The deputy flicked one finger across his brow as if pushing back his hat. "You probably don't remember me. We only met for a minute or two."

"I remember. You went to look for my mom."

"I left you with Lucy—Agent Guardino. If I hadn't, if I'd stayed. Well, all I can say is sorry. About your mom. About everything." He leaned back, away from Adam. 

If Bob had come with them, he'd be dead. 

Adam squirmed, miserable, his butt falling asleep in the hard chair. Said nothing. Finally nodded. 

That seemed to be enough for Bob. He straightened his shoulders and tapped at the edge of his computer keyboard.

"Why were you at the school this morning? You know they're getting ready to search Echo Cavern, right?"

"Figured. I just wanted to talk to Lucy. Apologize again. And see if I could help. I guess that's all." He kept his face down, talking into the top button of his jacket. It was freezing cold, but the deputy didn't seem to notice. Maybe fear kept Adam shivering. Fear he'd never get another chance to find his dad.

His eyes burned and he blinked furiously and sniffed. The deputy pretended not to notice, but slid a box of tissue close to Adam's free hand as he reached for a coffee mug and stood. "Sure you don't want anything? I'm brewing a fresh pot."

Adam rubbed his face against his collar, refusing to admit defeat and take a tissue. "I'm fine."

Before Bob could reach the counter with the coffeemaker, a loud buzz jangled through the air. Adam jolted in surprise, his handcuff chain rattling against the chair arm.

"That will be Jenna." The deputy put his cup down and moved to the glass partition between the reception area and the office space. "What the hell?" 

<><><>

Morgan loved this part. The getting ready part. The part when blood pounded like rain and tasted like copper pennies. Anticipation. 

Almost as fun as the actual doing.

This time was different. This time Clint trusted Morgan to fly solo.

Morgan watched the cop take Adam into the police station. A tiny building that looked surprised to still be standing as the wind knocked against it. Like the Big, Bad Wolf huffing and puffing.

From the pattern of lights, the inside would be divided in two. Made sense. Wouldn't want the public getting in the way of official business. One camera on the parking lot, probably one more inside, maybe two.

Easy peasy.

Morgan crossed the snow-covered parking lot. The public door was unlocked even though it was early, not business hours yet. Expecting someone?

The street was empty in both directions. The nearest light, on again, off again, in the pre-dawn gloom, was the blinking amber that marked the edge of town.

Savoring the taste of blood that would soon be shed, Morgan opened the door and stepped inside, knowing Clint watched. 

Morgan was about to make him proud. So very proud. The one thing that mattered most in the world. Keeping Clint happy. Because when Clint was happy, Morgan was his whole, wide world.

Nothing was going to take that away from Morgan. Nothing.

Not even a big brother.

Chapter 25

If the Caine family home looked like a solid house fallen on hard times, then the Mathis residence appeared to be the opposite: a house built in hard times that survived long enough to see better times.

It was a frame house built on the eastern shoulder of the mountain, which should have given it the appearance of majesty. It looked out upon stunning vista of mountain meadow tumbling gracefully into forest and then down across the valley. But the house was two stories high with a sharply peaked roof and looked half as wide as it ought to be. As if someone had cut the original plans in half, leaving a scarecrow of a house, tall, thin, and giving the illusion of leaning, ready to slide off the side of the mountain.

Despite its awkward architecture, the road was well tended—already salted and plowed—and when they grew closer, Lucy noted a roof in good condition and wood siding recently painted. Freshly cut logs were stacked to the porch roof. A curl of smoke from the chimney made a dark smudge against the snow and the pale dawn light.

They walked up flagstone steps that had been cleared of snow so long ago, a fresh coating was already forming. They'd just reached the front door when a rifle shot rang out, echoing back from the mountain behind the house.

Lucy rolled to the porch wall, pulling her weapon. Jenna pressed up beside her. Shit. The postal inspector had relinquished her weapon because of the shooting yesterday. Lucy pulled her leg up, drew her backup Glock from its ankle holster, and handed it to Jenna. "You have nine rounds."

Jenna nodded. Lucy motioned for her to stay where she was and cover her back. Then she drew a deep breath and sidled along the wall, past the stack of logs, to the rear corner of the porch. The direction the shot came from.

Lucy craned her head around the corner ready to shoot. Then relaxed. The side of the house nearest the mountain opened onto a deck that looked out onto the meadow where snow glowed ruby-orange in the rays of the sun piercing the clouds. A man in a red and black checked wool coat lounged in a chair, sighting his rifle at a black bear ambling along the tree line at the edge of the forest.

"Federal agents, Mr. Mathis. Would you please lower your weapon?"

"Can't it wait? Damn thing must be deaf and dumb and I'm tired of him tearing through my garbage." Mathis kept sighting the bear but the bear disappeared back into the forest. With a sigh, he set his rifle at his feet and turned to Lucy. "What the hell do you want?"

"Show me your hands, please, Mr. Mathis." The man looked like he was about to argue, but the sight of Jenna also holding a weapon on him, shut him up. He raised his hands, flipped them up and down.

"Nothing up my sleeves either. You two do realize you're trespassing on private property. Got no right to pull a pistol on a man in his own home."

Lucy holstered her weapon and motioned for Jenna to do the same. "Afraid you startled us with that rifle shot. We're not from around here."

He wrinkled his nose and rubbed it red. Mathis was in his late thirties, trim but with a thick neck and thinning brown hair. He stood. Jenna jumped, but Lucy laid a hand on the postal inspector's arm. "City gals, eh? Probably should come inside where it's warm and you can tell me what brought you all the way out here."

"I'm surprised you're not out searching for those missing boys," Lucy began once they were inside, cups of steaming coffee in their hands. Another kitchen table. This one was a wide plank with benches along two sides and two chairs at either end. Mathis sat at the head of the table. Lucy had started to take the chair opposite but he gave a slight wince and she moved to sit on one of the benches instead. Jenna stood at the wood-burning stove, gripping her cup to her chest like she was a Titanic survivor fished from the North Sea.

"Would be—should be, but, I've got to take care of my boys first." He said it like a man who didn't feel sorry for himself but wasn't altogether crazy about the hand life had dealt him either.

"Your wife?"

He shook his head, glanced over his shoulder to the main part of the house where a TV playing cartoons could be heard. "Dead. Last year. Drunk driver. Just me and the boys."

"You have a son, Craig?"

"Yeah. The oldest. Having a rough time of it. I ask too much of him, I guess." 

Lucy wondered at that. Jenna's description of the Mathis boy sounded like someone having a lot more problems than just a "rough time." She waited to see if Mathis had anything more to say before asking, "Does Craig know the missing boys?"

"Look here. I'm a plainspoken man. I know my son acts out, but he had nothing to do with them two boys running off. You can ask him yourself." He tilted his chair back and hollered into the other room, "Craig, get in here. Now."

A sullen looking skinny kid shuffled into the kitchen, not making eye contact with any of them—especially not his father.

"Did you talk to those boys who went missing? Marty and, what's the other one's name?"

"Darrin. Darrin Harding," Lucy supplied. She wished Mathis would let her do the questioning. 

Craig shifted his weight back and forth, one finger digging into a hole in his sweater sleeve.

"Answer me, boy." Mathis' voice cracked but Craig didn't startle. Like he was used to it. Or it took a lot of stimuli to get a reaction from him. A possible early indication of sociopathy.

"Sure, I talked to them. But in the morning." Finally he looked up. Met Lucy's gaze with defiance. "Until that big kid came by. Had a knife. Bet he took those boys out to the woods and cut them up, left them with their guts hanging out to rot."

Lucy kept her face blank, not giving Craig the response he wanted. From the corner of her eye she saw Jenna take a step away from the boy, hand dropping to the pocket where she had Lucy's gun. "What boy was that, Craig?"

"Dunno. Mrs. Chesshir knew him. They talked like they were old friends."

"That was in the morning, right?"

He nodded grudgingly, unwilling to admit anything on the record.

"When did you see Marty and Darrin last?"

"They were playing chase with a few of my friends. We like to include the little kids," he added, protecting his cohorts in crime. "But Dad already picked me up. We were driving away when I saw them running across the field."

"I picked the boys up early yesterday," Mathis put in. "We had dentist appointments over in Huntingdon. All three of them."

"Do you remember what time you picked them up?"

"Had to sign them out. It was 2:40. By the time I got them all in the truck, the other kids were out, running for the first bus or playing in the yard. Not sure what time we actually left the parking lot."

"And Craig was with you from 2:40 on?"

"Yes." Mathis stood. Craig stayed a step behind him, a twisted smile on his face as if he'd just realized how lucky he was, having that dentist appointment. "Anything else we can do for you ladies?"

Lucy shook her head and walked towards the door. Jenna beat her there, already had it open. Lucy stopped at the threshold and turned back to Mathis. "You've got your hands full with all this, Mr. Mathis. I wonder if maybe Craig could use someone to talk to. Help him cope better."

At first she thought Mathis was going to be offended by her suggestion. But to her surprise, he glanced over his shoulder as if fearful his son was listening in, then leaned forward. "You might have a good idea there. Lately he's been worrying me, leaving him with the younger boys. I'll look into that. Thanks."

Lucy and Jenna returned to the car. No further in finding Marty or Darrin, but maybe they'd helped one kid before it was too late.

<><><>

Deputy Bob rushed over to open the door to the reception area. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

A little girl, hidden from sight by the deputy's body, answered, "My mommy. She's hurt bad. Please help me."

Adam opened his mouth but couldn't suck in enough air to make a sound. His throat shut tight like he was being strangled. He wanted to close his eyes, knew he should close his eyes, but couldn't even blink.