Colorado 02 Sweet Dreams (52 page)

“Do me a favor, Shambles, I left my cell in my truck. Can you get it for me?” Tate asked.

“Is something –?” Shambles started.

“My cell, Shambles,” Tate said firmly.

Shambles stared at him, swallowed and then turned and rushed through the woods to the cars parked a short distance away.

I looked up at Tate. “What –?”

Tate interrupted me. “See that ground?” He pointed to the floor of the glade and my eyes followed his hand.

“Yes,” I said.

“All those marks,” Tate whispered and I saw a lot of marks in the dirt but Tate didn’t wait for me to say anything. His hand came to wrap around the back of my neck, my gaze went to his face and he finished, “Struggle, Ace.”

I felt tears fill my eyes as I breathed, “Oh God, no.”

“I need you to get him home. Get Jonas. Get Stell. Get Pop. Go out to dinner. Keep Shambles occupied. I’m callin’ the cops. We gotta sweep this whole area.”

I moved closer to him and put my hands on his stomach.

“Do you think –?”

“I don’t ever think. I just go where the trail leads me. But in this case, I’ll hope.”

“Tate, Sunny’s not his style,” I told him.

“Get him home. Keep him occupied.”

“She doesn’t… she’s not like Tonia,” I pressed.

His fingers gave my neck a squeeze. “Baby, I’ve given you a job. It’s an important one. Focus. Yeah?”

I stared into his eyes. Then my head turned and I looked at the glade then passed it to where I could see Wood, no longer close, walking through the trees, eyes to the ground.

I looked back at Tate and whispered, “Okay.”

He reached to his back pocket. “My cell’s not in my truck,” he stated, his arm came around and he showed me his cell. Then he urged, “Go.”

I understood what he was saying and told him so by nodding, he put pressure on my neck, I got up on my toes and his head came down. We touched lips briefly. He let me go and turned instantly toward the wood, flipping his phone open.

I didn’t delay further. I turned and ran through the woods to the cars.

Chapter Twenty-One

Safe

Shambles, Jonas, Stella, Pop and I were sitting in the diner. Everyone had ordered food but no one had eaten much of it. We’d been there ages but the waitress hadn’t cleared our table. Our vibe was not conducive to approach. We were given a wide berth but that didn’t mean employees and customers alike weren’t giving us curious glances.

I was busy trying to take the mental temperature of both Jonas and Shambles, though it wasn’t tough. Shambles was a wreck, jumping visibly at every noise, his eyes flying to the door whenever it was opened. Jonas seemed focused on Shambles and, probably due to his age and what Shambles had seen his mother do to him, he was the only one who could break through. Jonas wasn’t being playful and funny, he was just trying to keep Shambles’s mind occupied by chattering about smoothies, school, his friends, video games and locking onto any conversational gambit that seemed to draw Shambles out, even minutely.

I was sucking back my third refill of diet through a straw in my mammoth, red, hard plastic cup when the door opened, Shambles’s eyes flew to it and his body locked.

I looked over my shoulder to see Tate, Wood and Frank, the uniformed officer who came to tell Tate about Tonia, entering the diner. They stopped just inside the door and, one look at their faces and the fact they didn’t walk to our table, my heart stopped with them.

I heard chair legs scraping the floor and twisted back to see Shambles was up. I rose with him.

“Bub, you stay here,” I heard Pop order gently.

“Goin’ with Shambles,” Jonas muttered.

They were on the move so Pop said no more and I glanced at Pop and Stella then followed them.

Tate turned and opened the door, holding it for all of us to walk through. Shambles moved down the sidewalk several paces, stopped and turned. Jonas stopped close to his side. The rest of us formed a huddle. All eyes were on Tate but Tate was looking at Jonas.

“Bub, think you should –” he started.

“Stayin’ with Shambles,” Jonas cut him off.

Tate’s eyes stayed on his son half a second then they went to Shambles.

“We found her, man,” he said softly. “She’s alive, at the hospital –”

Shambles’s body appeared to melt and I moved quickly to him and slid an arm around his waist.

He gave me his weight and whispered, “Alive.”

“It’s not good, pal,” Wood told him gently. “She’s been attacked.”

I lost his weight as Shambles’s body went rigid against mine.

“Found her in the woods, ‘bout half a mile from the clearing. She’s been out in the elements all night. Stabbed, looks like five times, lost a lot of blood,” Frank added and my eyes shot to Tate.

He shook his head. “Stabbed, her hair shorn, but not like Tonia.”

This didn’t make sense but I didn’t care. Tonia had lived too, for awhile. But she’d been so brutally attacked, she didn’t make it. This sounded different. It sounded better. It was hideous but it was still better.

“We need to get you to the hospital, Shambles,” Tate went on. “Wood’s gonna drive your van. You come with Laurie and me.”

Shambles nodded but Jonas piped up.

“And me,” he stated.

“No, Bub, you stay with Pop tonight,” Tate replied quietly.

“I gotta stay with Shambles,” Jonas insisted and Tate opened his mouth to speak but Shambles spoke first.

“No, Little Dude, you stay with your Granddad.”

Jonas looked up at Shambles. “But –”

Shambles put a hand on top of his head. “Stay with your Granddad.”

Jonas stared at him a second then he nodded.

“I’ll get my bag,” I whispered and gave Shambles a squeeze. “Be right back.”

I let him go and dashed into the diner. I went straight to the table and Stella and Pop watched me from the minute I entered the diner to making it to the table.

“They found her. Stabbed. She’s alive, at the hospital. Not like Tonia. We’re going there now,” I looked at Pop. “Tate needs you to look after Jonas.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he muttered, his eyes going beyond me.

I grabbed my bag and turned to see Tate and Jonas walking in, Tate’s arm around Jonas, hand on his shoulder.

“Laurie tell you?” Tate asked Pop when they hit the table.

“Yeah,” Pop answered.

“We’ll pick him up in the morning,” Tate finished.

“Right,” Pop said.

Tate turned his son into him, removed his arm but curled his fingers around Jonas’s shoulder.

“We’ll get you first thing,” Tate stated. “Bring you home then Laurie’ll make you French toast.”

Jonas nodded then he swallowed then he did a face plant in his father’s midriff and wrapped his arms around Tate’s waist. Tate’s arms circled his son and he gave him a squeeze.

He bent at the waist and I heard him whisper, “Who’s my big man?”

“Me,” Jonas whispered back.

“That’s right,” Tate replied, gave him another squeeze and let go.

Jonas took a step back and his head tipped to look up at his father. He swallowed again and turned to me. I lifted a hand and cupped the side of his face.

“See you tomorrow, honey.”

He nodded, hesitated and then did a face plant in me. My arms went around him and held him tight. I bent to press my cheek against his hair then I kissed the top of his head and he let go.

“Tomorrow, baby,” I whispered.

“Tomorrow, Laurie,” Jonas whispered back.

I touched his cheek again, dropped my hand and looked at Tate. He lifted an arm toward the door. I nodded and moved toward it, looking back over my shoulder at Jonas, Pop and Stella at the table. Stella had risen and was giving Jonas a sideways hug. I gave them a small smile. I turned forward, Tate opened the door for me and we walked into the falling night.

* * * * *

It was dark, we were driving through Carnal on our way home, Tate at the wheel at my side.

Sunny was stable. I spent my hours at the hospital with Shambles, Tate spent his with the police and FBI. Wood took Shambles home in Shambles’s van, Frank following in his cruiser to drop Wood back at the garage to get his bike.

Shambles got to see Sunny after she got out of surgery but she was sleeping and, after he visited with her, I urged him to go home, telling him I’d see him the next day. It took awhile to urge him to do this, explaining he needed his sleep, to rest and be strong for Sunny because she needed him. I finally broke through and he agreed, taking off with Wood and Frank.

I watched the hotel slide by, the pool lit, the parking lot lit, the hotel below average but the whole place kept neat and tidy, a riot of flowers blooming everywhere, the pool clean and bright, the waters tranquil, beckoning. It might not be the greatest hotel ever but just one look at it and you knew you’d be welcome there.

Staring at the pool as we passed, suddenly in my head I saw Neeta wrench Jonas’s arm and the memory of his wounded cry rang in my ears.

“Maybe we should stop by Pop’s, get Jonas,” I said softly.

“Hopefully he’s sleepin’,” Tate replied.

“But –”

“He’s had a tough day. Needs his sleep, Laurie,” Tate interrupted me. “We’ll get him first thing.”

I pressed my lips together then I sighed.

Then I agreed, “Okay.”

Tate flipped on his blinker and turned right into the hills.

“Tell me about Sunny,” I whispered.

“Ace –”

“Tell me.”

It was Tate’s turn to sigh, which he did, heavily, then he said, “Wood found her bike about ten minutes after you two left, before the cops got there. It was tossed into the trees. I found her clothes thrown not too far from the bike. He moved around a lot in those woods but trail wasn’t hard to follow, footprints, depressed grass, broken twigs. They sent two officers and we followed the trail. Found her, called the ambulance. Left her with the paramedics, I followed more trail. He took a different route to get back, came out at the clearing. Lost the trail at the road, he had a car.”

This wasn’t enough information. It
was
, on one hand. It wasn’t on the other.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t either,” Tate replied.

“It’s not the same. Is this someone else?” I asked.

“Don’t know. Could be two things,” Tate answered and said no more.

“Those are?” I prompted.

Tate hesitated for long moments before going on. “Copycat who got started then figured out he doesn’t have a taste for it or doesn’t know the full MO or our boy is…” he trailed off.

“Tate,” I whispered.

“You wanna hear this shit?” he asked.

“No,” I answered. “But I have to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“And I’m thinkin’ it’s better you keep not knowin’, Ace.”

I looked at him. “I don’t know why I have to know but I have to know.”

“Babe –”

“Tate, he’s hurting women, two of them I know. Please, honey, I have to know.”

Tate was silent for several beats then he asked, “Do you know what drawin’ down the sun means?”

“No,” I answered.

“Sunbathing nude. Shambles and Sunny are naturists.”

“Oh,” I mumbled. “So?”

“I think our boy is local. I think this was an incident of opportunity. He’s got a problem with women who show skin, don’t follow convention. He sees Sunny in the nude, whatever fucked up shit in his head that drives him kicks in but he knows Sunny ain’t like all the rest. He can’t follow through. He follows his impulses but he can’t take it to climax.”

“He stabbed her five times,” I reminded Tate.

“Stabbed Tonia sixteen times and raped her with that knife,” Tate told me.

I sucked in breath then on the exhale breathed, “Sixteen? Really?”

“Yeah, babe,” Tate said softly. “Also took all her hair he could get with that knife. Only cut Sunny’s. Like he bunched it in his hand and sheared it off in one slice. But he didn’t take it all.”

“What does that mean?”

“The whole show is fucked, all over the place. Part of it is an effort at humiliation. Takin’ the hair, leavin’ ‘em naked and exposed. Part of it is sexual. All the victims had semen on them. Not
in
them,
on
them.”

“Oh God,” I whispered torn between sick disgust and horror.

“Yeah, fucked up shit. It’s brutal but every single one of them is left positioned the same. On their side, knees to their chest, hands tucked under their cheek. Gentle, almost respectful. Remorse. Remorse after he uses that knife instead of his dick and gets off on it. Remorse after he jacks off on them during or after.”

“Sunny?” I whispered.

“Didn’t violate her or come on her. Another change, he left a blanket with her. My guess, it was hers. She’d crawled, blood trail shows she got about fifteen feet, took the blanket with her but then she lost consciousness. The blanket, at least, offered some protection from exposure.”

I closed my eyes. “Thank God.”

“So we got DNA from the semen, we just got no matches. And that’s all we got. It’s like this guy doesn’t exist. Now we got boot prints and maybe more DNA on the blanket. They find somethin’, they’ll know if it’s the same guy.”

“You think he’s local?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know anything about him?”

“Profilers think he’s able to assimilate. He’s one of us.”

I turned my head and stared at Tate, whispering, “What?”

“Not one victim, outside of Sunny, showed signs of struggle. We don’t know how he got them we just know he didn’t kidnap them, it wasn’t violent. He either knew them or he doesn’t pose a threat. He comes off as friendly. He might even be attractive. A good flirt. Turn a woman’s eye. Thinks she’s gonna get her some, not havin’ any clue.”

“So why did he struggle with Sunny?”

“He doesn’t act on instinct. He hunts. She was not planned. The urge hit him and he acted. Maybe she didn’t know him so she fought him. Shambles and Sunny picked that place because it’s off the beaten track. Not a lot of people come around there unless they live up the way. Even if they did, they’d have to be lookin’, the clearing is far enough from the road. He probably surprised her.”