Pursuit (40 page)

Julie produced her badge and ID.

The man glanced at her credentials. “How're you doing, ma'am?”

“Oh, I just had a meeting with Mr. Drew about a variety of things.” She started to get back in her cruiser. “Is Mr. Clegg gone for the day?”

“Haven't seen him for a while, miss.”

Strange. When asked, William Drew had been vague about Charles Clegg's work at the factory. Though annoyed about Clegg's status, he did give her an address and directions to the lakefront house. It was late, and Cheryl was staying overnight with a girlfriend, so Julie was at a loss about what to do with herself.

S
he knew the
Miller County property could be at least an hour's drive, but she needed to have a look. After a quick stop for a sandwich, she took the interstate southwest to Saint James and then wrestled with the country roads west to Osage Beach. The winding route gave her time to rethink her trip. It wouldn't amount to anything—she knew that—and, being a seasoned trooper, she also knew that she had defied a number of rules that had been pounded into her head over the years.

For one thing, she had no backup. Well, she reasoned, she didn't need backup because she wasn't going to attempt an arrest. She just wanted a look-see. A warrant would have been the first of many procedural moves, but as she kept assuring herself, she wasn't attempting an arrest, simply observing. Staking out would have required an extensive explanation, and it was just for a moment, anyway. She promised herself that making a studied assessment would be a good way of explaining to Walker what she was doing.

The directions to Clegg's isolated vacation home were specific. She drove by the property slowly, noticing the last soft rays of the setting sun through the trees. It appeared that
the house was buried in the woods nearly a hundred yards from the road. Julie glimpsed a patch of water from time to time. She drove down the country road for a few miles, and then turned and came back past the site again. Pulling onto a dirt path, she stopped at a wood fence just down from Clegg's locked gate. She unpacked a 12-gauge shotgun from the trunk of her Charger, loaded it, and checked that her Sig was securely buckled at her waist. She dug out her flashlight and began the walk back toward Clegg's fenced property.

It was cool out. In the distance, a heavy-voiced dog gave out a throaty threat.

She neared the gate leading to the property, climbed a decorative rail fence, and headed into the woods adjacent to the winding lane. Moving forward, she saw the outline of a structure and an early-model station wagon parked next to the tilted porch front. A country-and-western station played from a radio. Julie gripped the shotgun, circled around to the far side of the shack and came up to a window cracked open with a blind pulled down to within a few inches of the sill. Julie bent down and looked through the opening. Along with everything else, she was now a voyeur. A man seated in a worn, overstuffed chair with his back to her hummed an off-key accompaniment. She saw the throat of a guitar and a fellow's heavily bandaged left arm. He tried to make a simple half circle on the guitar neck, his arm unable to bend in such a way to form a chord.
Hey, Charlie, what happened to your arm? Get stabbed?

She worked to subdue her urge to burst into the shack, easing back into the woods. Taking care of things now would have been preferable but she'd seen enough. The next day would be an exciting one for Mr. Clegg, whose modest cabin would be palatial compared to the eight-by-ten-foot accommodations provided by the state of Missouri.

I
t's after hours,”
Walker said, pissed but willing. “Where in hell's name are we going to find a judge who's available to issue a warrant?”

“Less than evidence, that's right, but more than bare suspicion.” Julie stated her case with care. She knew the drill. “In this case, I'm clearly a person of reasonable caution and, more important, I believe an offense has been committed or will be.”

“I love the way you paraphrase the Constitution to get your way, Trooper.” Walker needed to make a decision. “Two of the three judges we've tried are either out of cell phone range or aren't answering.”

“What about a magistrate?”

“Yeah, I prefer a judge, but let's try.”

After a great deal of coercion, Walker made a connection, and though he was technically off duty, he accompanied Julie to the magistrate's office.

“You have your affidavit, Sergeant?”

Julie handed the man her sworn article of cause.

“It says here you observed the suspect at his home on the fourteenth, is that correct?”

“Yes.” Julie glanced at Walker.

“And the reason for this search is to solidify information from a victim, of the existence of a ‘special' room in the residence, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

With the warrant signed, they were on the street again. Walker grew silent. At the car door, he paused. “Today is the fifteenth. That means either you disobeyed my specific orders not to make contact with the subject or you lied to the magistrate about seeing him yesterday.”

“I didn't lie, sir. And I didn't make contact, as instructed by you.” She held on to the door as if its support would steady her upcoming confession. “But I did, in fact, observe him at his place of residence.”

“Did he see you?”

“No, sir, he did not.”

“You're positive?”

“I am.”

“You're going to find yourself back in your underground office, Sergeant.” Walker got into the driver's side of his car.

Julie busied herself reading the warrant.

“I specifically told you to let me know before you made contact, when you and Todd first knew about the subject.” He wheeled the sedan at a slow Sunday-drive pace. “What's Devlin's status, by the way?”

“
Hors de combat
.”

“What about the fed?”

“He's in Saint Louis; had a lead on another case. Thinks he'll be back tomorrow.”

“Okay. Dammit. Call the station, give dispatch a rundown on your warrant, have a couple cruisers with two officers meet us at, where?”

“Iberia. Junction of State Roads 17 and 42.” She got on the phone while Walker continued his deliberate drive toward the lake country.

Two cruisers assembled just past the spot where Julie had left her car the previous day. Walker gave his people their instructions. “We don't know a whole hell of a lot about this jackass, so let's be careful. Smitty, pull your cruiser up to the gate. Detain anyone coming out. Keep in touch on channel four on your walkies. Sergeant Worth, you and Adams follow me.”

The three made their way onto the property, this time walking down the rutted lane, as opposed to Julie's reconnoitering through the woods the day before.

The wagon was still parked next to the tilted porch.

Walker knocked, and they immediately heard footsteps. Clegg opened the door, facing them with a startled “What the hell?” expression.

“Mr. Charles Clegg?”

“Yes, what do you—?”

“We have a warrant to search your residence.” Julie handed him a copy of the document.

“Stay out here.” Walker addressed trooper Adams. “Watch our suspect.”

Julie walked into the cramped living room where she had observed Charles the previous night.

Clegg stood with his back to the wall, keeping his eyes on Julie.

“How do you get to the basement?” Walker asked.

Leading them to the stairwell down to the cellar, Clegg gestured for them to proceed.

Walker shook his head. “After you, and turn on the lights. When you get to the bottom, get up against a wall.”

Charles switched on the lights and descended the wood steps.

Julie and Walker followed, then paced the cool basement's interior.

“Nothing here but junk.” Walker scoured the confined space, looking behind the furnace and hot water heater, inspecting an aged coal bin. “What are you smiling about, mister? Something funny?”

“No, just watching my tax dollars at work.”

“Smart-ass. Sergeant, let's split. This is a dry hole.” Walker signaled for Clegg to precede him up the stairs.

Julie lagged behind, but as she reached the stairs, the lights went off and then back on. Then off again. “Hey, up there, what the hell?”

“Sorry, the switch is funny.” Charles's voice regained its vigor.

“I'll turn off the lights when I get up there. Leave it alone.”
Asshole
. Julie took one last look around the dank space, pushing her way past a row of stacked cardboard boxes to a window tucked up tight to the ceiling. Standing on tiptoe, she had a clear view outside to the lake. It didn't look as if this dark underground catchall could have been her daughter's cubbyhole for two weeks. Julie threaded her way back through the debris, stumbling on a broom handle. She reached down to push it aside and noticed letters scratched into the floor. She stepped across, enabling her to read right side up. On her knees, Julie made out a capital letter, a scratch mark, and then “Hogar.”

“Angie Hogar, here.”
Christ.
This was the place, the cold, damp patch of cement and ceiling beams housing not only Angie but also her daughter and who knows how many other defenseless young women.

Upstairs, someone shouted. Julie raced up the stairs.

Captain Walker wasn't in the house. When she went to the front door, he was on his mobile handset speaking to Smitty at the front gate.

“What happened, Captain?” Julie asked.

“I turned my back, and he bolted, cracked Adams on the head, and took off across the field in that piece-of-shit wagon.”

When Julie looked up, she noticed dust settling across the field as if Clegg had turned onto a utility road leading out to the main thoroughfare. Smitty, in the state cruiser, slid to a stop in front of them. Walker instructed him to take Adams to the hospital in Jefferson City, adding, “Worth and I will chase after this Clegg dickhead.”

At the gate in separate cars, Julie and Walker watched as Smitty did an imitation of a rally driver on a dirt road.

“What's your best guess, Worth? Which way?”

“If he came out of the wood gate down from where we were parked, maybe there's tracks. Let's check.”

Sure enough, there were skid marks where Clegg turned to avoid the parked cruiser, and then dirt and rubber tracked in the road pointing south. Walker called in a BOLO for the wagon and turned to Julie. “We'll get this guy. Rest assured.”

Julie wasn't too sure.