Face Off (24 page)

“You've got it, sweet Sue! But nothin' I ever did to you made you obey me.” Roy ran his free hand over the stubble of beard on his face, relishing the fear in Suzanne's eyes. “Not even when I tried being nice. That's when it happened. You touched me one day and I saw the revulsion when you drew your hand back. You asked me about the fire, and then I knew I had to leave. I brought in one of them homeless men, dressed him up in my clothes, and blew him away with my shotgun!”

“Oh, God, how could you have left your own child to walk in on that?” Suzanne felt sick to her stomach, remembering the horror. It seemed impossible that her own father had set up that gruesome scene; had planned for her to go through the nightmare of finding that shattered body. “And you did it all for nothing. I was always so terrified of you that my psychic ability shut down in your presence. I don't know what you think I saw, but was it so bad that you had to set up your own daughter like that? My God, it was years before I stopped having nightmares!”

“Well, little Susie, that's just it. I didn't do nothin' to my own daughter, 'cause I ain't your pa!” Roy's pleasure at the look which passed over Suzanne's face was evident.

“What?”

“Oh, now I'll admit my name is on your birth certificate, but I was never your pa. Not in any sense of the word.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kind of a surprise, ain't it, Miss High and Mighty? Your real dad, why he didn't want nothin' to do with you. Not with you or that rotten mother of yours. She came crying to me, 'fraid her precious reputation would be ruined, and I took her in. I gave her a home, then when you came along, as far as people knew, why you was my kid. Susie Anne Cole. The Anne even came from my dead ma.”

Suzanne's head was reeling. Could any of this be true? She stammered, trying to make sense of it all. “I don't believe you! My name is Suzanne. I used to be Suzanne Webb before Miss Emily adopted me. My name isn't Susie Cole and you're not Roy Cole.” Yet even as she denied the name, a long-forgotten memory flitted across her mind. A woman singing to her,
Susie, Susie, my sweet Susie.

Roy Cole sat down on the arm of the couch, motioning with the gun toward Suzanne. “Sit. Sit. We don't have to be so formal. Why we're practically family.” He laughed at his own wit.

Suzanne slowly lowered herself into a wing-backed chair that had been a favorite of Miss Emily's.
And now I'm going to die in it.

*   *   *

All hell had been breaking loose at the precinct. Phone lines were jammed not only with tips of the butcher, but with real dangers because of the rain. Emergency crews were being lined up to help in the flooded areas, and there had been some reports of looting on streets that had been closed due to excessive water flow. All available personnel had been called in to help.

Harry made his way through a sea of blue to the front desk. The reports from the officers who had been tailing Clark earlier in the day had not been handed to him as yet. Even though the surveillance had been terminated, he was supposed to have received their logs. He had called the desk fifteen minutes ago, and they had assured him the logs would be sent right back. Now he pushed through the throng, and saw why there had been a holdup. He couldn't even see the officer who thrust the notebooks at him. He simply yelled a thank you, grabbed the books, and headed back to Caswell's office.

In another room, Jim Stahl waited for the computer to come up with information on the sign Jessie had seen in her vision. He had printed in Let Freedom Ring and asked for a general search. He looked up as Jena Karnitz stuck her head in the door. “Did you get your phone message a little while ago?” she asked.

Jim shook his head. “No. My wife?”

“No. I think I heard them say it was from that little girl—you know, the one that was here? Jessie.”

Jim slammed his hand down on the table. “Damn! How long ago? Who took the call?”

Jena threw her hands into the air. “I don't know, Jim. Maybe fifteen minutes ago? I was just walking by and heard one of the guys say some kid named Jessie wanted to speak to you. That's all I know.”

*   *   *

Harry had just finished scanning the surveillance log when Jim walked through the door. “I think something might be wrong, Harry. I had a phone call from Jessie about fifteen minutes ago, asking that one of us come over. She was afraid something was going to happen to Suzanne. Apparently she told the officer she was a psychic, so he thought she was a nutcase, and didn't get it through to me. Anyhow, I just tried to call and didn't get a ring. Either the line is out because of the rain, or it's been cut.”

Harry grabbed his jacket. “Let's get rolling. I just read the surveillance logs on Clark for today, and one unit said they tailed Clark for a number of miles and that he appeared to be following a gray Cutlass. One of the stops was the Methodist church on Central, then our boys followed him out on Interstate Twenty-nine, the exact route Suzanne and Jessie told me they took today. And wouldn't you know, right then the surveillance was cancelled. How much do you want to bet Clark followed them back to Suzanne's apartment?”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Jim said as they ran for their car. “Willie called back in with something else. He said he had discovered the real name of the guy calling himself Floyd Webster. He has several aliases he uses, but his real name is Roy Cole.”

*   *   *

“You're wrong, little Susie,” Roy Cole said, laughing. “When we left Oklahoma I didn't want people knowing who we were—after all, we were supposed to be dead and all. So I found me a name off a grave in some little town near Bartlesville, and presto. You became Suzanne Webb, and I became Carl Webb.” Roy wiped a hand over his mouth. “You were only five years old. It didn't take me long to train you to the new name.”

So much was being thrown at her that Suzanne was having a hard time comprehending it all. If what this man was saying was true, there was at least one thing to be thankful for. He was not her father. “I don't understand. Why did you think we needed to change our name? And what do you mean, we were supposed to be dead?” It occurred to Suzanne that the longer she could keep him talking, the longer Jessie had to bring help. “I think you're making all of this up. Nothing you have said makes any sense to me.”

Roy's face darkened. “Look, missy, you had better just mind your manners. And it ain't so all-fired hard to figure out. I married your ma when she was pregnant with you—pregnant by that hotsy-totsy,
married
college professor. And I loved her, too! She was the prettiest thing in Oklahoma, and that's a fact. But it wasn't long until I wasn't good enough for her. She didn't like my drinkin'; she didn't like the way I run my daddy's farm; she didn't like my
language.
Hell, she didn't like
nothin'
about me. Then one day she got real mad at me, and she left to go to her sister's house. I knew she was going to leave me!” Roy's voice got louder, angrier. “Me. Who gave her a name and took her in. She was going to leave
me!
”

Suzanne stared, transfixed, at this man who had so terrified her in her early years. She knew beyond any doubt that what he was telling her was the truth.

“But I fixed her,” Roy sneered. “I fixed her good! You were the one thing she loved in this world, so I took you away from her.”

“Are you telling me the courts gave you custody over my mother?”

Roy snorted. “What courts? That wouldn't have been near bad enough for your ma—even if I'd had a leg to stand on, and I didn't. But she had one awful surprise waiting for her when she came back with her sister to divorce me. She found the farmhouse blown up, and her husband and little girl dead. I was just sorry I couldn't stick around to see the look on her face.”

Suzanne paled. “What are you talking about? Why would she think we died in an explosion?”

“Remember little Charlotte? She was just your age, with long, brown hair the same as yours. She and her daddy came through each year to help in the harvest. Migrant workers they was called. Migrant workers who can disappear and no one asks a lot of questions. Well, I rigged the house to blow and burn, then invited them in and gave them lemonade with knockout drops. By the time that house blew, you and me was across the border into Kansas.”

Suzanne's words were slow, as if her brain could simply not function anymore. “And my mother? What happened to my mother? You told me she had died in a car wreck. I remember that. I don't remember much, but I do remember that.”

Roy shrugged. “Far as I know, she's still alive and kicking!”

Suzanne could feel the wind leave her lungs in a loud whoosh, as though she had been hit in the stomach.
Alive. There is a chance my mother is alive!

As if reading her thoughts, Roy snorted loudly. “Won't do you no good, Susie, dear. You ain't gonna be lookin' up no long lost mommie.” He raised the Colt up to shoulder level. “I'm afraid I'm gonna have to kill you!”

Suzanne spoke rapidly. “Why didn't you do that when I was five years old? Why did you kill the other little girl in my place?”

Roy lowered his arm. “Because I thought you was worth a fortune. I even had second thoughts after I rigged up my death there in Omaha. I learned you had been placed in that convent, so I went back a few years later and tried to make them give you back to me, 'cause after all, I was your legal daddy and I had the paper to prove it. But some prune-faced nun told me you'd run off. I always did think she was lying to me, but I couldn't prove nothin'. Then after you was all growed up, I saw an article about you in the paper—about your helpin' the police and all. It said you had been adopted from that same convent, and then I knew for certain that nun had lied to me. But it was too late, then. No use makin' an issue of it at that late date.”

Suzanne's mind was whirling. She had to keep him talking. It was her only chance. “So. How did you find me? And maybe more to the point,
why
did you find me? Why come looking for me after all this time?”

Roy Cole's eyes narrowed. “You were coming after me, weren't you? I just had to get you first! When I found out you were in Kansas City, I knew it was only a matter of time until you found me. When Clark said you came to the police station, I knew you was getting too close for comfort.”

At first Suzanne thought perhaps she had misunderstood. “What did you say?”

Roy grinned. “Surprised you, huh? Didn't think I'd know someone like the butcher? Why, him and me, we're like that.” He crossed two fingers and held them up. “He's the one found you for me.”

All at once it became crystal clear to Suzanne why she had been feeling such terror. It was the entrance of the man she had thought was her father. The man who had terrorized her as a child. That day in the police station when she had touched Randal Clark, the fear had come because of Clark's association with this man from her childhood nightmares.

Roy stood. “Okay, Susie. We've had our little father-daughter chat.” He raised the gun to fire.

Before Suzanne realized what was happening, the front door swung open, and Harry hurled himself into the room, rolling and shooting at the same time.

A surprised look crossed Roy's face as his gun toppled from his hand and he fell to the floor, looking down in amazement at the red stain spreading across his chest.

“Harry!” Suzanne rushed over to the detective as he picked himself up off the floor. Then without any other reason than the need to do so, she threw her arms around his neck. “What took you so long?” She sobbed.

Harry held on to Suzanne, liking the way she felt in his arms, liking the way she was clinging to him. He kissed her cheek lightly. “I'm sorry. We didn't get Jessie's message when we should have. She just told the officers she was a psychic and afraid something was going to happen to you. We had no idea Roy Cole was here.” Harry looked over at the form lying on the floor. “That
is
Roy Cole, isn't it?”

Suzanne nodded. “Yes. But he isn't my father.”

“I know,” Harry answered. “We finally got it all figured out.”

Jim came in through the back door. “Everything okay?”

Suzanne untangled herself from the safety of Harry's arms. “Is Jessie with you?”

“Why, no,” Jim answered. “Why would she be?”

Suzanne looked back and forth between the two detectives. “Didn't you say she had called you?”

Jim Stahl answered. “Yes, but that was earlier. She told our officer she was calling from a bedroom because she didn't want you to hear.”

“Then she must be outside someplace,” Suzanne insisted. “She ran out the back door when—” All at once it hit her. There was a reason why Roy had been so unconcerned about Jessie running out like that. He hadn't come alone! She ran over, kneeling beside Roy.

Roy held one hand over the hole in his chest. He smiled up at Suzanne. “I imagine Clark is having a lot better luck than I am. He's probably already cut off your little friend's head!”

Suzanne reached out her hand and placed it on Roy.
Oh, please, oh, please. Let me do it just this once. I have to know where Clark has taken her!

She could feel the life leave Roy Cole's body. “No!” She pounded on him with her fists. “Don't you die on me, you bastard!”

Strong arms reached down, encircling her, drawing her gently up. “He's gone, Suzanne,” Harry said. “There's nothing he can tell you now.”

Chapter Twenty-four

Jessie sat in the passenger seat of the maroon Ford van, her eyes on Randal Clark's face.

“Think you're pretty smart, don't you?” Clark said. “What did you do, hold your breath?”