Dark Eye (38 page)

I tried to do something, but it was impossible. I was alert and fully cognizant of what was happening. But I couldn’t move.

“I didn’t want to do this, Susan. I wanted you to come willingly, eagerly. You made this necessary.”

He opened the window in the back of the bathroom and stuffed me through it. He was stronger than he looked.

“We’re going back to my place now. I’ve got my truck parked in the alleyway. You’re familiar with that alleyway, aren’t you? Your security detail is taking a nap, but we’ll use the back way just to be careful.”

As promised, his truck was right there. He lifted me into the cab, pulled a blanket over me, and started the engine.

“I’m going to give you something to help you sleep now, Susan. You’ll wake later. We’ll talk. You won’t believe all the preparations I’ve made.”

Noooo!
I wanted to scream.
Someone help me!
But I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t do anything. I was worse than putty in his hands.

The syringe descended toward my neck, a silver drop dangling from the tip. I didn’t feel it penetrate, but I knew it had. And a few seconds later, I was gone.

Granger didn’t even wait for the car to stop. He leaped out the passenger side door, stumbling, recovering, racing. Darcy followed close behind. Despite repeated efforts, they’d been unable to reach Susan or any of her security detail on their cells.

Granger raced into the bar and flashed his badge. “Susan Pulaski. Tall, dark hair. Tough. You know her?”

The barkeep shrugged. “Sure. Seen her on TV.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s over-” He turned and almost pointed before he realized the chairs were vacant. “That’s funny. She was sitting right there.”

“Was she by herself?”

“At first. Then some other guy joined her.”

“Who?”

“I didn’t know him.”

“And this didn’t concern you?”

The barman’s eyes crinkled. “I thought he was trying to pick her up. My only concern was that she might wipe the floor with him.”

“What did he look like?”

He pondered. “Kind of nondescript. I didn’t really notice.”

Darcy stood by the empty chairs. “Did you know that she left her purse? Do you think Susan would go away but leave her purse?”

Granger gripped the bartender by the shoulders. “Did you see where she went?”

The barkeep shook his head. “No.”

“I did.” It was one of the waitresses. “She went to the ladies’ room. Her friend was helping her walk. She looked kinda sick.”

“Sick? As in ill?”

“Well, I’ve seen that look on her before.” She winked.

Granger plowed through the crowd, carving a path to the ladies’ room. Darcy followed. “Clear out!” Granger shouted. And then he kicked the flimsy door to pieces.

The ladies’ room was empty. But the rear window offered a view of the alley behind. And it was open.

“Goddamn it. Goddamn it!” Granger shouted. He pushed his head through the window. Nothing there.

“Do you know where she is?” Darcy asked. He was pacing in a small circle, running his fingers through his hair. “Did she go through the window? I think she could fit. Do you think Susan would crawl through the window?”

“No,” Granger said bitterly. “Not on her own.”

“Then… then… what… what do you think happened to her?”

Granger didn’t respond. Because as strange and stupid as Darcy seemed at times, he already knew the answer to that question.

He sat patiently by her bedside throughout the night, wiping her brow, stroking her face, brushing her hair. He could not have been more tender, more loving. Lying quiet like this, freed from the stress of the world, from the demons that plagued her, there was something almost angelic about her countenance. She wore no jewelry, no finger paint, no hair dye, not even makeup. Pure as the day she was born.

He felt an aching yearning for her.
With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven coveted her and me…

When at last she woke, the face she saw first was smiling.

“Good morning, sweet Susan.”

“W-W-Www…” She licked her lips, stretched her jaw as if breaking it in for the first time. “Where…”

“You’re with me, my darling. In my safekeeping.”

“I’m alive?” She looked around as much as possible, given her restraints.

“I wanted to talk with you. Before… I’m forced to proceed.”

Her eyes darted about the room, obviously trying to learn as much as possible about her location. “What’s that noise? Sounds like a waterfall. Where am I?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why am I strapped down?”

“I couldn’t very well let you run free. I did leave you your clothes, and I left the restraints as loose as possible-”

“Let me out of here!” Her voice was finding its strength. “Now!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Susan.”

She bucked and heaved, straining against the belts that held her to the table. “Let me… go!”

“Susan… please remain calm. We don’t have that much time. I need to tell you about my work.”

“You don’t have any work. You’re a psychotic killer.”

“Just let me talk to you a few moments.”

“Let me go. Then I’ll listen.”

“Be reasonable. I know what I have to say may seem… unconventional at first, but I’m confident that you’re capable of assimilating it.”

“I want out of here!”

“We could be such a team, Susan, you and I. There is another world, Susan, a better world. And we can go there together. I can make it happen. Give up this mortal plane that has so ill-used you and join my quest! We’ll meet Virginia-”

“Who?”

“My dear late sister. We could all live together in peace and-”

“Listen to me!” Susan took several deep, invigorating breaths. “I know this will be hard for you to understand, but it’s the truth. You are not well. You don’t do these hideous things because you have been chosen or because a prophet is speaking to you. You do them because you are ill.”

“No, Susan, no.” His eyes became clouded. “Please don’t.”

“This is something I know about. I also know that people like you can be helped. With invasive drug therapy.”

“Chemical emasculation.”

“Or intensive behavior modification. Or a combination of the two. If you let me, I will try to help you. But if you go on killing as you have been, you’re going to end up dead. Do you hear me? They will catch you in the end. And they will kill you.”

Was it possible she was right? She seemed so earnest, so good, and her dark eye shone as clear as the-

“No!”
he shrieked, hands pressed against his ears. “Go away! I’m not ready.”

Susan’s brow creased. “What? Are you talking to me?”

“There’s still time. I think she’s beginning to see, just a little…”

Susan strained futilely against her restraints. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No, you don’t understand. I just-”

“I… know… I-”

“I don’t want to hurt her. If there’s any chance-”

“No more chances! She must be broken! She must be shown the grievous error of the path she has chosen.”
The voice thundered in his head, knocking him back against the table. Susan stared at him, brow creased, lips parted.

He stumbled to his feet, wiping the water from his eyes. He staggered until he found the black bag, then withdrew a syringe. “I’m so sorry, Susan.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I do. I don’t want to hurt you. But I have no choice.”

Susan twisted back and forth. “You always have a choice. It’s never too late.”

“It is,” he said, his voice cracked with pain. He clenched the syringe in his fist and thrust it into her neck. Almost immediately, her eyelids fluttered closed.

“Goodbye, Susan,” he choked. “Goodbye and farewell. Please remember that I loved you.”

After that, there was only blackness. For both of them.

“Damn it, Boss, it’s been five days.”

“I know how long it’s been, Granger.”

“The press is asking questions. A lot of questions.”

“The press can go screw itself.”

“Did you see those pictures?”

O’Bannon stiffened, like a metal rod had replaced his spine. “Yes.”

“I have to assume we’re not the only recipients. I’ll bet they went to all the papers, all the TV stations. They’re going to want to know what happened to our behaviorist.”

“Who the hell doesn’t?”

Granger’s face twisted up. “Boss-those pictures. They’re-we have to tell them something! Try to explain-”

“Why?” O’Bannon pushed away from his desk, matching Granger bellow for bellow. “It would be different if we knew something. But let’s face it-we don’t. We don’t have the slightest idea where she is or whether-” He stopped short of saying it.

“Face facts, Boss. Five days. None of this guy’s previous victims lasted five days. All of them were killed within a day or two of their capture.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m telling you, we’ve got to face up to it.”

“And I told you-”

“Susan is dead.”

O’Bannon froze.

Darcy sat behind him, in a chair in the corner of his office, not saying a word. Listening to everything.

“Darcy,” O’Bannon said, lowering his voice, “would you leave us alone for a moment?” He fumbled in his pocket for change. “Run across the street and get yourself an ice cream. Get us both an ice cream. Okay?”

“No.”

The response was so startling that both O’Bannon and Granger were thrown. “Excuse me?”

“I think I would rather stay here.” As if a sudden chill had come over him, Darcy’s hands rose and flapped against themselves. “Did you know there was a woman kidnapped in Vancouver in 1979 who was held for sixty-seven days till she escaped? She overpowered her kidnappers and ran away. She hadn’t been harmed.”

O’Bannon and Granger looked at one another. “Darcy…”

“In Omaha, in 1984, a teenage girl was kept in a basement for over six months until she was found by the police. She wasn’t hurt, too.”

O’Bannon felt as if he had gained a hundred pounds in the space of a second. “Darcy, we have to be realistic about this.”

“Elizabeth Smart was gone for eight months, but she came back. Patty Hearst was held for a hundred and twenty-four days until she was found by the FBI, but she had been brainwashed into joining their cause. Do you think Susan could be brainwashed?”

“No,” O’Bannon grunted. “I think anyone who tried to play mind games with Susan would probably end up in the loony ward himself.”

“Actual brainwashing in the post-World War II era has been quite rare and mostly ineffective,” Darcy recited. “Several instances of the Stockholm syndrome have been documented, but it is still uncommon.”

“What have you been reading?”

“Unless there’s torture involved. Do you think Susan might be tortured?” His voice remained as loud and expressionless as ever, but the flapping of his hands accelerated.

“No, son.” He took the boy’s hands and brought them to rest. “I don’t think so. But we have to accept the fact that Susan is prob-is-may not be coming home.”

“I think that I should have figured out that message sooner. Do you think that I should have figured out that message sooner? Should have should have should have. That makes it my fault that the Bad Man got Susan.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

“For that matter,” Granger said, “I wish I’d reacted faster.”

“There was no way anyone could have predicted what this bastard would do. He took out three security officers, for God’s sake, with that magic drug of his.” O’Bannon pressed the heels of his palms against his forehead. “Darcy, please go get some ice cream.”

“No. I will stay here.”

“Darcy, we have our best officers working on this case. The best thing you-”

“I am not going for ice cream. I am going to help.”

“Darcy, you’re not a police officer.”

“I could be!” He turned, and although he did not quite make eye contact, he looked in the direction of his father. “You-you-you always w-w-wanted me to be a policeman. So I will be a policeman.”

“Darcy…”

“You-you d-d-don’t think I can do it.”

“These men have been through years of training and-”

“I can do it. I can do training.”

O’Bannon turned for help to Granger, who was pointedly looking away as if he were not paying attention. “You have some… special challenges, Darcy.”

“Everyone has special challenges.”

“But we have to be realistic and-”

“Do you think that any of your officers could decode the Bad Man’s messages? Because I do not think any of your officers could decode the Bad Man’s messages.”

O’Bannon craned his neck. “That was a special situation. You need to go home, Darcy. When I get back tonight, we’ll talk more. Maybe we can make popcorn.”

“No!” Darcy threw down his hands. “I do not need popcorn or ice cream or going home. I will help on this case, even if you don’t think I can. Susan thought I could help and I did help. I did!” He marched to the door, his eyes watering. “I m-m-may be an idiot, Dad, but Susan needs me. And I am going to help her.”