Silent Scream (57 page)

Micki’s smile was sharp. “I’ll get a warrant for the van and property. You set the Austin trap. We’ll find a way to track
him.”

Olivia pushed herself to her feet. She could see David and Tom standing near her desk, David bandaging Tom’s hand. She could
feel his fear from here. Would feel his heartache if she failed. “We can’t lose him. We have to find Mary.”

“Are you going to tell them?” Noah asked, pointing to the two men.

“About Kirby, but not about trying to lure him. I don’t want to get their hopes up.”

Noah patted the shoulder that wasn’t iced down. “I’m going to find Abbott, get this moving. Sit down and rest for a few minutes.
I’ll be back.”

“No, we’ll need a positive ID from Austin to get a warrant. I’ll get a six-pack photo array together and get Kirby’s license
photo to drop in. I’ll meet you back here.”

Wednesday, September 22, 6:30 p.m.

Mary pointed to a side road. “Stop the car and get out.”

Her bones creaking, Phoebe obeyed. She let out a quiet groan as she tried to straighten her back, then grimaced as she drew
a breath. The air was heavy with the stale odor of burned wood. Phoebe couldn’t see the burned condo, but she knew it couldn’t
be far. They’d taken so many turns, she had no idea where she was exactly. They were on a lake, but they’d passed a lot of
those.
Minnesota
, she thought,
land of ten thousand lakes
. She’d thought the brochures had been exaggerating.

“Why are we here?”
I’ll never find my way out of here, even if I get away.

Mary shoved the barrel of the gun into her back. “Move.”

They’d parked the car on a side road that appeared not to have been used for some time. The trees were so thick that they
hadn’t walked fifty feet before the car was completely hidden. Phoebe’s feet were numb from sitting so long in the car and
she had rather pressing needs elsewhere. “Is it far?”

“No,” Mary said tightly. Her hands were shaking. The woman had become increasingly tense as the hours had passed.

“Mary, I need to know. They said you killed those men. Is it true?”

Mary’s chin lifted as she walked. “Yes.”

Phoebe’s blood chilled. “Okay. Why?”

“Eric was going to run away. He was going to leave me and Albert holding the bag. He
used
me to save his own hide. He thought he knew everything, but in the end he was just a damn coward. Running away to France.
Nobody uses me.”

“How did you know?”

“I went to his place because we were supposed to go to Joel’s funeral together. He wasn’t home, but Joel had a key, so I went
in.”

“Joel is dead, too?”

Her face twisted. “Yes. It was a car accident.”

Phoebe frowned, trying to remember. “Oh. Joel. I heard about that on the news.” And now pieces she’d overheard David and Glenn
muttering about became clearer. “You cared for Joel?”

“Yes. Joel had a thing for causes,” she said bitterly. She was running her free hand up and down her arm in jagged little
movements as she walked, a twitch in each step.

“Causes are usually good things.”

“I was his cause. And now he’s dead.”

Her tone made Phoebe’s blood chill a little more. “Did you kill him, too?” Mary said nothing and Phoebe had her answer. “I
see. What about the other one?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Albert. That sonofabitch. Said he’d break my neck if I didn’t do what he said. Nobody says that to me.
Nobody. Uses. Me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Phoebe said dryly. “What about Lincoln? Did he use you?”

“No.” Her voice abruptly softened. “Lincoln loved me.”

Phoebe thought of the man her son had described as pathetic and tortured. “Did you love him?”

“Not like that. But he thought I did, when he was on his meds.”

“My son said Lincoln is mentally ill.”

“Yes.”

“David said the FBI was interested in Lincoln for an old arson.”

“They couldn’t find him with all their guns and bugs and spycams, but I did,” she boasted. “Yes, I used him. But I won’t let
him kill him,” she added.

“What? Him, who?”

Mary blinked, as if surprised she’d said the last thing. “Just… shut up and walk. That’s where we’re going, that cabin.”

Wednesday, September 22, 6:50 p.m.

“It’s just a scrape,” Tom said between clenched teeth. He’d shaved a layer of skin diving to protect two bystanders when the
shot that killed Crawford was fired. “Don’t fuss.”

“I have to. It’s keeping me sane.” David finished bandaging Tom’s hand and looked to the window where Olivia stood, watching
them. A new shaft of fear pierced him.

“It’s like when there’s turbulence and the flight attendants are scared,” Tom murmured, his eyes on Olivia as well.

David sank into Olivia’s chair, closing his eyes to focus. “Being terrified won’t bring Mom home. What do we know about Mary?”

“She was pissed at her stepfather,” Tom said.

“Because she holds him responsible for her mother’s death. She loved her mother.”

“So she might not hurt Grandma.” Tom’s voice took a hopeful note.

“Right.” It might not be true, but, like tending others, the notion helped him stay sane. “What else?”

“We know Mary and Joel met in an environmental ethics class,” Olivia said behind him. He started to get up, but she perched
on her desk. “And that killing Joel upset her.”

“She believed,” Tom murmured. “She believed in Preston Moss.”

“Or she knew re-creating Moss’s fires were the best way to get back at Crawford,” David said. “Somehow she sought out Lincoln
through that Web site, earned his confidence. He told her information that nobody else had. I wonder who first brought up
the idea of the condo arson. Mary or Joel?”

“I’m betting Mary,” Olivia said, “and that Joel thought it was his idea.” She hesitated. “We also think we know who Jonathan
is. Or at least who the blackmailer is.”

Both David and Tom stared. “Who?” David demanded.

“I know it sounds crazy, but Kirby. From the Deli. All the blackmail victims went there. He has access to their e-mail. And
he resembles the man Austin saw.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “I told you about that free Wi-Fi. You said I was paranoid.”

David’s mind was reeling. “You are, but that’s okay.”

“Why aren’t we going to the Deli to get him?” Tom demanded.

“He’s not there,” Olivia said patiently. “We’re going for a warrant and I’ve got some work to do to help with that. You guys
should go get some food or coffee or something. Just not at the Deli. Promise me. I don’t want him scared off.”

She met David’s eyes, hers a little too intense. “Don’t lose faith.”

His eyes narrowed. “Something’s about to happen.”

“We may have another trick up our sleeve.” She laid her finger across his lips. “Don’t ask. I wasn’t going to tell you that
much. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

If it doesn’t work
. “Why did you tell me then?” he murmured against her finger.

Pain filled her eyes. “I need you to know I’m doing everything I can.”

Covering her hand with his, he pressed it hard to his lips. “I know you are.”

“Go get something to eat,” she whispered. “Let us do our jobs.”

He watched her walk away, then hauled his body out of the chair, feeling a million years old. “We haven’t checked on Glenn.”

“I did, when you were bandaging up Olivia,” Tom said. “He’s physically fine. They’ll let him go tomorrow.
He told me to tell you to keep looking for Grandma, not to visit him.”

“Then let’s go.”

“To do which? Look for Grandma or get something to eat?”

“Both,” David said grimly.

They went down the elevator and out the door, and David couldn’t hold back the shudder at the bloodstains on the sidewalk.
The area was barricaded off with yellow tape and passersby stared.
Olivia’s okay
, he told himself.
She wasn’t shot
. But she could have been. If not today, then next week. Next month. Any time in the future.

“Part of me wants to keep her out of the path of bullets.” He blinked, unaware he’d said it out loud until he heard it.

“She probably wants to keep you out of the path of fiery, falling beams,” Tom replied soberly. “And I’d agree with her. But
she won’t ask and neither will I.”

“It’s who I am. It’s who she is, too.”

“She’s careful,” Tom said. “Dana never was.”

That’s how Olivia’s different.
She had the same need to protect without the drama Dana had always had swirling around her. Olivia got the job done. Efficiently
and quietly. She’d do what needed to be done, the right way. A ringing phone startled him from his thoughts and David realized
it was coming from his own pocket. He pulled out the prepaid cell he’d forgotten he still had. “Hello?”

“David? This is Truman Jefferson. I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Not at all. What’s wrong?”

“After you left, the police shut me down for the afternoon, to process the scene. I went home, tried to get some work done,
and I found some pictures that Lincoln took.
One of his jobs was taking photos of new listings to put on our Web site, but these pictures show a property that isn’t one
of my listings. I don’t recognize the location, but it’s a cabin near some kind of a park. Some of the pictures show a lake,
which I know isn’t helpful. But I wanted to tell you because some of the pictures have Mary in them. I guess they went there
together. I thought you needed to know.”

David’s mind started racing and then his feet were, too. Tom pulled ahead, leading him to where he’d parked the car. “Can
you describe the park?” David asked urgently.

“It’s old. Just an old-fashioned park, like when I was a kid. A sandbox, a metal swing set, a merry-go-round—you know, the
ones that look like a flat spaceship.”

“Yeah, I know.” He did. He’d seen that little park, Monday morning when he’d taken Olivia up in the bucket. She’d taken pictures.
She’d have the layout. “Any specific features on this cabin?” He got in the passenger side of the car, and Tom was pulling
into traffic before he’d shut his door. “The condo,” he told Tom.

“It has a green awning on the back,” Truman said, “but no house number. I’m sorry.”

“No, this is amazing. This is good.”

“Mary may not be there, but it’s a place she and Lincoln must have liked.”

“Have you seen Lincoln?”

“They let me visit him this afternoon, but he was too doped up to talk. The psychiatrist told me you were kind to him. I wanted
to thank you.”

“It’s okay. If you find anything else out, please call me.”

“Wait,” Tom said. “Ask if he can scan those pictures in and send them to my e-mail.”

“Yes,” Truman said after David gave him Tom’s e-mail address. “I’ll do that right now. Good luck. God bless.”

“Thank you.” David closed his phone and closed his eyes, visualizing the scene. “It’s one of those cabins at the lake near
the condo. I took Olivia up in the bucket to see the layout and I saw the park. From the bucket, it was at eleven o’clock.
We won’t be able to see the awning from the road. We’ll have to come in from the back.”

“Do you have any weapons?” Tom asked.

“No. Hopefully Mary hasn’t improved her marksmanship in the last five hours.” He dialed Olivia and swore softly when he got
her voice mail, again. “It’s David. I may know where they are. Check the photos you took from the bucket at the condo. It’s
a cabin with a green awning. Call me.” He called the police department’s main number and gave them the same information, then
he buckled his seat belt. “Drive faster, kid.”

Wednesday, September 22, 7:10 p.m.

The sun was setting and for the first time Phoebe wondered if David would be too late. Mary was growing more agitated, hugging
herself as she paced the floor. Phoebe had seen the track marks on her arms and knew she was starting to withdraw. Mary had
been unpredictable. She still held the gun, but carelessly by the barrel, not by the handle.

Mary had made her stop the car about a half mile from the cabin in which they now hid. She’d obviously been here before, going
straight to an unlocked window and forcing Phoebe through. She’d then tied her to a chair with, ironically, the pull cords
from the window
blinds.
If I ever get out of here, David and Glenn will laugh at that.

Mary was pacing, tapping the gun against her palm.
Calm her down, if you can.
“If you’ll untie me, I’ll make you some hot tea,” Phoebe said. “I see a kettle on the stove.”

Mary threw her a glare. “You’re crazy. I tie you up and you want to be nice to me?”

“Frankly, if I had that gun I would shoot you. I wouldn’t kill you, but I’d make it so you couldn’t chase me. But I don’t
have the gun and you look like you need some tea.”

“You’re a strange woman, Phoebe.” Her mouth trembled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t want you to hurt me either. Mary, what are you planning to do with me? You haven’t made any calls, made any demands.”

Her laugh was brittle. “In the movies, they ask for passage to Mexico.”

“But you’d always be looking over your shoulder. No way to live.”

“Prison is no way to live either.”

“Then you’ve got a hard choice to make. But you need to make it, because I don’t like being forced around at gunpoint. You
can’t hide here forever.”

Mary looked around the room longingly. “I wanted to. Live here forever, I mean.”

“When was this?” Phoebe asked gently.

“When I was little. My mom and dad—my real dad—would come up here and we’d have a normal family vacation.”

“How old were you?”

“Four. I was five when he died.” Her jaw tightened. “And then she married
him
.”

“Who, honey?”

“Crawford. He had a kid already. Andy was nice, but Crawford… We had to be perfect. Make the beds. Up at sunrise. Straight
As. I hated Crawford the day I met him.”

“Your mother must have loved him.”

“My mother had no family and no job. When my real dad died, we were so poor. Food stamps. Government cheese. My mother couldn’t
feed us. She needed a man.”