Delia's Shadow (30 page)

Dora patted his father’s arm. “You can’t change the past, Matthew. Gabe knows who to look for now and that makes all the difference. Let’s get Delia back to the house so she can lie down.”

Delia stepped away from him, shaky and sniffling, but able to stand. “No need to fuss, I just need a few minutes. I’ll be fine.”

“Nonsense. Never turn down a chance to be pampered.” Isadora swayed and the small flush of color remaining in her face bleached away. Gabe’s father caught her before she fell, wrapping an arm around Dora’s waist and holding her up. She shut her eyes and licked her lips, swallowing hard. “If Dee is going to decline the offer, perhaps I should lie down instead. I’m sure Moira won’t mind.”

His father clucked over Dora, sounding like one of the brood hens in the yard. “No, Moira won’t mind. Let’s get you inside the house. Slow and careful now.”

Gabe pulled Delia deeper into the shade and back into his arms. He held her quietly for a moment, cringing at the small catch in her breath and half-swallowed sobs. “I can’t imagine what you and Dora go through, or what experiencing someone else’s suffering is like. Seeing the aftermath is bad enough. Promise me something, Delia. Don’t shut me out. Let me know when the pain is too much for you.”

“I’d rather not make dealing with death and suffering a lifelong habit. Not that I’ve been given a choice so far.” Her voice was hoarse and still thick with tears. “But I’m not a hothouse flower. I don’t want to be treated as such.”

“I don’t intend to treat you like one.” He brushed fine strands of hair off her face. “All I’m asking is that you don’t hide how much it hurts. Let me help sometimes.”

Delia stepped out of his arms. She dabbed at her eyes with his soggy handkerchief. “That works both ways, Lieutenant Ryan. I’ll promise if you will.”

“You have my word on it. We’ll help each other.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and smiled. “Mom will start to worry soon. We should go back to the house.”

“That might be wise.” She put a hand to her stomach and grimaced. “Perhaps I do need to lie down. I could rest up a bit before sleeping on you all the way home.”

“Tell me if I go too fast.” That she was making jokes was a relief. Gabe shortened his steps and let her set the pace. Delia didn’t lean on him much, but she let him help when necessary.

It was a start. He wouldn’t ask for more.

CHAPTER 16

Gabe

Gabe studied the street map on his office wall. Map pins, black for his father’s cases and white for his, marked the locations where each of Ethan Brennan’s victims had been found. The rounded tops reminded him of tombstones, worn down by wind, rain, and time. Appropriate given the circumstances. He kept hoping that if he stared long enough, the widely spaced pins would resolve into a pattern.

All he’d managed so far was to give himself a headache. Ethan had left victims in every part of the city, from the shipping docks and alleys near the bay, to Chinatown and every well-to-do neighborhood in San Francisco. There was no pattern Gabe could find, no cluster of victims left in one district or obvious hunting grounds. Ethan flitted around the city, a dragonfly that never settled among the cattails.

A cursory knock was all the warning Gabe had before his partner charged in and swung the door shut again. Jack brandished a sheaf of telegrams in his hand. “We finally heard back from the sheriff in Glenrock.”

“Why do you bother to knock, Jack?” He counted black and white pins again. Fifteen bodies for his father, eight for him, and twice that many letters claiming victims they hadn’t found. “It only slows you down.”

“Decorum, why else?” He dropped the stack of paper on Gabe’s desk. “Come take a look at these.”

One more quick survey convinced him the map wasn’t going to yield its secrets easily. He sank into his creaky desk chair, feeling far older than thirty. “Did they find anything at the ranch?”

Jack dragged the visitor’s chair over and made himself comfortable. He flipped through the telegrams, plucking some from the pile and handing them to Gabe. “Six graves so far, all within a mile or less of the house. No one from town’s gone missing, so the sheriff is pretty convinced the bodies belong to drifters or people passing through no one would miss. Thom Brennan’s ranch is over forty-five hundred acres. Leeds is afraid his men will find dozens of graves.”

“They will. Ethan moved his hunting ground, but he never stopped killing.” The Glenrock sheriff’s description of the graves and the bodies was detailed and extremely thorough. All male from the clothing and effects found in the graves, and all older murders with bodies in advanced stages of decomposition. Likely they were men looking for work or travelers who met the wrong person on the road. The sheriff’s theory seemed valid. “Have they started tearing up the floor of the house yet?”

Jack held out another telegram. “They didn’t have to. Leeds ordered a search of all the buildings on the property first. One of his deputies fell through the floorboards of an old barn on the south end of the ranch. Sheriff Leeds says the barn was used to store winter feed for the cattle. They found a room dug out under the floor just like the one in Delia’s dream.”

Gabe slumped back in his chair and rubbed his throbbing temples. A room just like the one where he killed Jack’s mother, Sarah Miles, and who knew how many others. Neither of them wanted to say it, but they both knew. Hidden away somewhere in the city, Ethan had a new room. “I don’t suppose his deputies found any photographs of Ethan. Knowing what he looks like now would make finding him a hell of a lot easier.”

“All the photos from the house are on a train and on their way to San Francisco. The box should arrive in a couple of days.” Jack neatened the stack of paper, fiddling to align the corners just right. “Sheriff Leeds can’t tell us if any of the pictures are of Ethan or not. He never met either of the Brennans.”

“Dad will know. I’ll send a car to bring him into the city tomorrow. He can stay with me for a day or two. Helping might make him feel better.” Gabe rummaged through the paper tray on the corner of his desk until he found the duty roster for the week. “Send Lawrence, Schaffner, and Polk. Tell them to draw straws for who stays with my mother. I don’t want her on the farm alone. Dad refused protection, but he can’t argue about officers looking after Mom.”

“I’ll tell them to help her with the chores, too. Feeding chickens and collecting eggs won’t hurt them.” Jack continued to arrange the telegrams, making minute adjustments. “If I thought Esther could survive the trip, I’d move her, Annie, and Sadie out to your parent’s house until this is over. Delia and Isadora, too, for that matter. At least then he’d have a harder time getting to them.”

He’d had the same idea and talked it over with Delia. Turning his father’s isolated farm into a fortress was safer than his men having to treat every tradesman or stranger out for a stroll as a threat. Delia had agreed that they’d all be better off outside the city, but Esther’s fragility was a stumbling block none of them could overcome. “Ethan won’t get anywhere near Sadie or Delia, or Isadora for that matter. We’ll make sure they stay safe.”

“No, you’re right. I’m worrying too much.” Jack wandered over to stand in front of the map, staring the way Gabe had earlier. “Sadie’s got her heart set on a church wedding and having her mother there. It’s important to her, but I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach each time I think about all the people at the church. All the strangers. Any one of them could be Ethan Brennan and I’d never know.”

A sharp knock rattled the frosted glass in the pine-framed door. “Lieutenant Ryan?”

Gabe recognized both the voice and the broad-shouldered silhouette. “Come in, Rockwell.”

Jack turned away from the map, hands in his pockets and perfectly composed. His partner might let Gabe see how he felt, but never the men serving under them.

Lon Rockwell ushered a slight, dark-haired boy of about twelve or thirteen into the room ahead of him. The boy held a battered cap in one hand and the other clutched the strap of a newsboy’s bag slung over his shoulder. His jacket and trousers were fairly clean, and the holes in his shoes patched. Gabe figured the boy had a home to go to at night and a mother to look after him.

“Lieutenant, Sergeant Fitzgerald, this is Jeff Murdock. I’ve known him going on a year now. His regular spot to sell papers is on my beat, right out in front of the Ferry Building.” Rockwell patted the boy’s shoulder. “Jeff’s a good boy. Never causes trouble and takes his earnings home to his ma every night. It’s just the two of them since his pa died last year. When he caught up to me this evening and asked if I knew you, I figured you should talk to him.”

Gabe moved around to the front of his desk, sitting on the corner so he didn’t loom over the boy. Rockwell wouldn’t drag Jeff downtown and into the station without a damn good reason, especially now. He’d have wagered his far-distant pension that reason was Ethan Brennan. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jeff. This is my partner, Sergeant Fitzgerald.”

Jack flipped the visitor’s chair around and scooted it closer to the newsboy. His partner straddled the seat, putting himself nearly at eye level with Jeff. Gabe sat back and let him take the lead. If anyone could put the boy at ease, Jack could.

“Good to see you, Jeff.” Jack smiled and gestured toward the canvas newsboy bag. “What paper do you work for?”

“
The Examiner
. Lots of folk like to read on the ferry ride. A big paper lasts longer so I sell more.” He pulled back against Rockwell, wary and scared. “Lon said I won’t get in no trouble coming here. He promised.”

“You’re not in trouble.” Jack grinned and raked fingers through his unruly hair, so that it stood up curly and wild. He looked younger that way, less like a cop and more like someone the boy would play stickball with. “If Lon vouches for you, that’s good enough. We just want to get to know you.”

Rockwell patted the boy’s shoulder. “Go ahead and tell them the story you told me. Remember what I said, take your time and don’t feel you need to rush.”

Jeff stuffed his cap in a back pocket. “The noon ferry was gone, so there weren’t many people around. I found a shady spot to sit and eat, hidden up next to the wall. I try to stay out of the way so I don’t get bothered. My ma sends something with me near everyday. Says a boy my age needs to eat. That I work hard and shouldn’t go the whole day on an empty belly.”

Gabe smiled, matching Jack’s friendly manner near as he could and burying impatience deep. Pushing the boy would frighten him and likely make Jeff forget important things. “Your mother’s right. I ate all the time when I was your age and I didn’t work half as hard. Did something happen while you were having dinner?”

He nodded, hazel eyes large and solemn in his grime-smudged face. “Yes, sir. A man came up and asked if he could hire me for an important job. I didn’t want to talk to him. Some of the older boys told me to watch out for men who get too friendly and want me to go off with them. I thought he was that kind at first, or meant to rob me of the coin I’d earned. I told him to let me be or I’d be yelling for the police.”

“That was smart, Jeff.” Rockwell ruffled the boy’s hair. “You did exactly right.”

“What happened then?” Jack rested his arms across the back of the chair and leaned forward, his posture eager and attentive. “Did he leave?”

“No, he stepped closer and bent down so he could see me better. He promised he weren’t asking anything to get me in Dutch with the cops. Said he just wanted me to deliver a message and that’d he’d pay me two dollars for the job.” Jeff jiggled on his toes and clutched the canvas strap tighter. All his attention was on Jack, one boy telling another about his scary but exciting adventure. Gabe would never understand how Jack worked his magic with witnesses, but he was always grateful. “I still felt funny, but there’s whole weeks I don’t make two dollars. So I said if all he wanted was message carrying, I’d do it. That’s when he gave me money and told me to ask any cop on the street for Gabe Ryan. He said they’d know where to send me.”

“Jeff found me soon as I came on duty, Lieutenant. I brought him straight here.” Lon Rockwell’s hands rested easy on the boy’s shoulders, but his expression was anything but relaxed. The boy had seen Ethan Brennan’s face. He was marked now, they all knew that. The only one who didn’t know was Jeff.

Gabe added the boy and his mother to the list of people he needed to protect. He crouched in front of Jeff, back against the desk and hands resting easy on his knees. “Lon’s right. You did exactly the right thing. What message are you supposed to give me?”

“I made certain not to lose it.” The boy dipped a hand into the canvas bag and came up with a pale blue envelope. He held it out to Gabe. “He said to give you this. He said you’d know what to do with it once I handed it over.”

He forced a smile and took the envelope. “Thank you, Jeff. I do know what to do with this.” Gabe stood and met Rockwell’s gaze. “Take Jeff into the patrolman’s lounge and see what you can find for him to eat. Better yet, send a rookie out for food and I’ll pay for it. Then have the desk sergeant dispatch some men to bring his mother here. I don’t want her to worry about him. Sergeant Fitzgerald and I will want to talk to him again before he goes home.”

“Yes, sir.” Rockwell ushered the boy out. Gabe counted to a hundred, giving them time to get out of earshot and battling for calm. He lost.

“That evil son of a bitch. Brennan thinks he’s untouchable.” Gabe flung the envelope onto the desk blotter. He paced the length of the office, shoving down the urge to rage and punch things. Hitting the wall might make him feel better, but he was just as likely to break his hand in the process. “Using that little boy is supposed to remind me he can take anyone he wants.”

“He can. We know his name, but nothing else has changed.” Jack cleared his throat and dragged the visitor’s chair back to the side of Gabe’s desk. “But he’s getting cocky and that’s his first real mistake. Open the letter, Gabe. Let’s see how much he plans to up the ante.”

Gabe yanked his chair out and sat, disgusted and disheartened at the same time. San Francisco was still a hunting ground for Ethan Brennan. The city was full of visitors come to see the Pan Pacific, with more pouring in each day as the warmer days of summer began. Ethan was just another anonymous face in the crowd, with little to fear in terms of being caught.