Redemption (42 page)

“I think this person wanted to see you,” Kit said, seeming to read Jane’s mind at that moment. “Observe you. Identify you.” Kit shuddered. “I just got a chill. And goose bumps. That’s confirmation, kiddo.” Kit recovered the piece of jade from the bed and reclined back on her pillow. “What did I tell you about this jade?
Encourages insight and brings to light that which is hidden
! You
really
should give it a try.” Kit exhaled a deep breath and replaced the jade on her forehead before closing her eyes.

“I gotta do some thinking,” Jane said, getting up and grabbing her jacket.

“Which means you need a smoke,” Kit said softly, her eyes still closed.

Jane grinned at Kit’s perceptive deduction. “Wow. There really
is
something to that jade.” Kit opened one eye to look at Jane and they exchanged soft smiles before Jane walked outside.

Jane no sooner lit her cigarette than her cell phone rang. It was Weyler. “Hey, Boss,” Jane answered.

“Happy New Year, Sergeant Perry,” Weyler proclaimed.

“I’m not your sergeant yet,” Jane retorted.

“For the amount of background favors I’m doing for you, you damn well better be!” Weyler’s voice was easy as usual.

“I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today.” Jane took a drag on her cigarette.

“Mrs. Weyler had me tied to the snow shovel this morning until my back went out. I had to sit down to relieve the pain. But while I was sitting, I figured I’d do some intelligence snooping for you on my computer.”

“Hey, Boss. If you want to get pain relief, you have
got
to get yourself some homeopathic Arnica. This stuff rocks.”

“Arnica,” Weyler said with obvious skepticism. “I’ll look into it. Here’s what I found out. The Bible-thumper, Rachel Hartly?” Jane took another nervous drag on the cigarette, not sure what was coming next. “That’s not her real first name. It’s
Linda
Hartly. And she’s got a criminal record. Ten years ago she was arrested for
taking part in an abortion clinic bombing. No one was killed, but a doctor from the clinic was injured and forced to quit his practice.”

“Was the group the Lamb of God Congregation?”

“No relation at all. But it was shortly after that episode that Linda Hartly became Rachel Hartly and joined the Lamb of God.”

“Yeah, that goes with the territory. Bartosh told me all about it. It’s part of being born again. A lot of them choose a Biblical name that resonates with their new identity.”

“I see. Well, Rachel, Linda whatever, is as right-wing militant as they come. In her deposition after the clinic bombing, she wrote in great detail what she believes. She’s against the government, calling them ‘pawns of Lucifer.’ She staunchly reiterated that Christians are continually persecuted by secular society and must do whatever it takes to protect themselves from being victimized by a world gone mad. She stressed that she follows the rules of God and not the rules of man. She believes in self-sufficiency, grows her own food, and raises her own animals because she thinks that the secular world is poisoning us so they can weaken our resolve to seek the Lord.”

Jane halfheartedly wondered if Rachel gave her dead goat a Christian burial before launching into the
Reader’s Digest
version of her trip to Hartly’s house that morning. “I can’t tell if Lou Peters lives in her guesthouse.”

“I hear doubt in your voice.”

Jane sucked another drag on her cigarette. “When Lou checked in with the sheriff, he never mentioned his change of address. At that time, he’d already vacated his old house and moved on. From what Kit tells me, the guy’s very premeditated with his actions. I think he went to the sheriff so they wouldn’t come looking for him. They probably assumed he had the same address and were impressed by his receipts that proved his whereabouts. I’m sure they checked his name off the list. The thing is, Boss, if Peters did kidnap Charlotte, and if he’s following his pattern from before, he’s moving back and forth between where he lives and where he’s
got the kid. It’s apparently the way he covers for himself. He kept Ashlee drugged the whole time so there was no chance she’d yell out or escape when he wasn’t there.”

“How do you account for the receipts from the Shell gas station and The Hummingbird Motor Lodge? They’re time coded and an hour’s drive from Oakhurst.”

Jane felt an icy shiver speed up her spine when Weyler said
hummingbird
. “Time frames don’t matter anymore,” Jane declared as she told him of her confrontation with Leann Hamilton.

“How’d you get her to confess?” Weyler said.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. The point is, Charlotte could have disappeared anytime and anywhere.”

“The dogs picked up her scent at mile-marker forty-four. Maybe that’s where it happened. It’s where they nabbed Trace Fagin.”

“Fagin has nothing to do with this! Leann promised she’d go to the sheriff and do whatever she could to take the heat off him. Can you do anything from your end?”

“I can throw out some deflectors to my contact, but that’s about it. Fagin was still found with the bracelet—”

“I don’t give a shit if he was found with her fucking jewelry box! He’s innocent!”

“I’ve got a call in to the lab regarding the DNA on the condom. Keep an eye on Hartly’s house. See if you can catch sight of Peters.”

“I’m afraid my Mustang is too much of a marker. I can’t be scoping the place 24/7 in a big blue target. If she’s as paranoid as you say she is, she’s gonna recognize me and report me to the sheriff. I can’t risk that, Boss.”

“Then check out her place occasionally.”

Jane halfheartedly agreed. She was about to say good-bye when a thought crossed her mind. “Hey, Boss. I need another favor. Can you check into a woman named Mary Bartosh? She lived in the Big Sur, Carmel area fourteen years ago. She’d be thirty-one or thirty-two now if she’s still alive.”

“How does Mary tie in with Charlotte Walker?”

“She doesn’t.” The photo of Mary with the tough girl attitude flashed in Jane’s mind. “But there’s something there. I just don’t know what.”

Weyler agreed to Jane’s request before bidding her goodnight. A wave of cold air blew across the parking lot, sending Jane back into the cabin.

Kit lay sound asleep on her bed, the piece of jade perched on her forehead. Jane quietly closed the door and crossed to her computer. Her enquiring mind needed to be satisfied regarding Rachel’s choice of her pseudonym. If you’re going to change your name, Jane deduced, you choose one that creates the identity you wish to project. She typed “Meaning of Biblical name Rachel” into the search engine. A long list of Web sites appeared on the page. Jane chose the first site and scrolled down until she found “Rachel.” The text read:
“Rachel (Hebrew) One who chooses to follow; An innocent lamb.”

Jane considered the irony before closing her computer. Kit stirred, knocking the piece of jade off her forehead. Jane crossed to Kit and picked up the gemstone. She sat on her bed, her mind preoccupied, rubbing the surface of the jade. Jane popped four more pellets of Arnica in her mouth before falling back on her bed. For the first time in almost a week, Jane realized how desperately tired she was. She closed her eyes and let out a long-winded exhalation. Her fingers gently caressed the piece of jade as she quickly slipped into a deep sleep.

There was a moment of peace before she felt the panic rip into her gut.

CHAPTER 27

Jane spun around. Breathlessly, she took in the scene. A sparse forest of conifers surrounded her; at her feet lay a cushion of dead leaves. Fear engulfed her. Her rational mind told her this was a nightmare. She pinched her arm and felt pain. It wasn’t a dream, she said to herself. The panic set in far more deeply. She’d been running through the woods for what seemed like hours. Everything felt severely disjointed.

Without warning, an eagle flew in front of her. The heavy flutter of wings echoed in the cold air long after it settled on the ground. It stared at her before flying off into the woods. Suddenly, she heard the sound of a motorcycle revving its engine. Jane turned toward the resonance and caught a glimpse of a wheel just as it slipped behind a stand of trees. Instinctively, she ran toward the motorcycle, but the rider heard her boots crunching on the dry leaves. He revved his engine and sped into a clearing, revealing only his back. Jane caught sight of the motorcycle—a baby blue motorcycle with a decal of a white dove on the fender. Jane recalled the description of the motorcycle from the girl where Lou used to live. It was Lou. Somehow, she was standing in a forest, and there he was on his baby blue motorcycle with the dove decal.

Lou never looked back at Jane as he wound around the trees. Jane ran after him, the smell of exhaust from the motorcycle stinging her throat. He knew she was behind him; she felt him loving every minute of it. As she approached a stand of pine trees, she noticed a sleek, black crow perched on a low branch. He cawed loudly, flaring his eyes wildly at Jane. Racing past the crow, she continued her pursuit.

She heard a quiver of wings above her head and momentarily stopped to look up. A coal black raven circled above her head before disappearing into the winter horizon. The motorcycle’s
engine slowed. Jane peered into the distance and saw Lou 200 feet in front with his back still facing her...waiting...baiting Jane to continue the foot chase. He flashed the headlight on his motorcycle several times in a teasing gesture. Jane pressed onward, her boots suddenly thick with mud. She was within fifty feet of Lou when he zoomed forward, spitting dirt and fumes into the icy air.

Jane’s breathing became labored. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Just then, a spirited hummingbird dashed in front of her, nearly touching her cheek with its rapid wing movement. It was just enough to send her backward in mid-run and cause her to fall off balance. She landed awkwardly in a tangle of dirt and dead branches, feeling a sharp pain in her already aching back as she hit the ground. Lou brought the motorcycle to a stop far in the distance, as if he had reached his destination. Jane gingerly stood up and peered through the trees. There seemed to suddenly be someone else there with Lou; someone who felt familiar to Jane.

She moved toward them, each step pushing a knifelike pain down her legs. Yet the closer she got, the more her eyesight clouded. It was as though she were walking in a thickening fog bank. She heard the motorcycle’s engine rev loudly in the distance, but her clouded perspective couldn’t determine where it was headed. Jane kept moving, sensing a darkness closing in around her. Within seconds, her foggy vision dispersed and she took in the frightening scene.

Lou and his motorcycle were gone. Instead, another male stood twenty-five feet in front of Jane with his back to her and his head bowed forward. A jolt of terror pierced her gut. Jane grabbed for her Glock but found the holster empty. She traced his body with her eyes. That’s when she saw the crimson blood dripping from the tips of his fingers.

“Shane?” Jane half whispered, her voice cracking in terror.

Shane turned to Jane. His eyes were dead, his face pale and sweaty. “What have I done?” he said to Jane in an eerie monotone cadence.

With that, he pointed a bloody finger to a nearby outcropping of rocks. Sprawled naked on the rock was Charlotte Walker. Her deathly, hazel eyes stared skyward. But there was no sign of blood. Her ivory skin shone spotless. Shane began to sob, choking on his grief. Jane moved closer to Charlotte. She looked dead, but then quite strangely, her torso moved. Jane took a few more deliberate steps toward the naked child. Charlotte’s torso moved again, but the movement came from
within
her body. Jane held her breath as she watched a growing ripple of energy begin to wave under the child’s belly. The once-silent forest filled with the deafening sounds of birds. Jane covered her ears to stifle the strident cacophony, but it penetrated her senses. The wave of movement grew angrier under Charlotte’s belly until her skin protruded six, seven, then eight inches upward. The discordant dissonance of birds grew as Charlotte’s belly split open. Blood poured from a deep gash that sliced from the girl’s navel to her chest. Suddenly, a red-tipped wing punched through her skin. Then another wing. Jane stood by helplessly and watched as the head of a red-tailed hawk broke through Charlotte’s belly and leaped onto her body. Jane turned back to Shane and realized he was gone. But his voice could still be heard in the wind.

“It’s no use....”

“No!” Jane yelled into the air. It was the bloodcurdling sound of her own terrified voice that awakened her. She sat up, flinging the piece of jade onto the floor beside her bed. Darkness enveloped the cabin. She turned to Kit’s bed, expecting to see her there, but she was gone. Checking the clock, Jane realized that two hours had passed since she lay her head on the pillow. She slid off the right side of the bed and peered out the draped window into the parking lot. There was just enough light from the streetlamps to see that Clinton’s SUV was gone. Her Mustang was still there. Perhaps Kit was talking to Barry. With that thought, the cabin’s front door opened. Jane stood frozen in the darkness. Kit entered the cabin, closing the door behind her.

“Hey,” Jane said softly, so as not to startle Kit. But Kit didn’t react. She moved to her bed in a dazed and somewhat drugged manner. Jane turned on the light switch, illuminating the room. Kit lay on her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, and closed her eyes. “Kit?” Jane said in a concerned voice. Kit’s breathing became deep; the kind of breathing associated with deep sleep. Jane approached Kit’s bed and stood observing her for several seconds before saying her name again. No response. Jane placed her hand on Kit’s arm. She jumped, startled out of her stony sleep.

“What? Who?” Kit quickly said, not recognizing Jane at first.

“It’s me! Jane!”

Kit focused and her usual soft expression replaced the disoriented, frightened visage. A lone tear drifted down her cheek. Jane gently reached down and brushed it off her face with her index finger. “I think you were sleepwalking,” Jane offered.