Crimson Lake Road (Desert Plains)

by Victor Methos

  Yardley looked at her. “How are you keeping it together so well? You’ve just been through a massive trauma, but it seems like you’re invincible. That it bounced off of you.”

  River gave a sad little grin while touching the stitches in her forehead. Then she gazed out over the desert. “I’m not invincible. The opposite. Sometimes it feels like I’m made of glass. This . . . thing that happened to me. I don’t let myself think about it. When it pops into my head, I push it out. I’ve been meditating and doing yoga for fifteen years, so I know how to empty my mind. To not think about anything and just focus on my body.” She ran her finger along the lip of her wineglass without looking at it. “I’ve had to do that every minute of every day since Agent Baldwin found me.”

  Yardley was silent a long while. “I’m sorry.”

  River nodded. “I talked to Zachary and . . . something’s different. It’s not anything we can put into words, I think, but it’s something we both feel. I can tell. I don’t know what it’s going to be like from now on. It’ll be different, I know, but how different? Will he look at me the same? Will he be angry with himself that he couldn’t protect me?”

  “We sometimes forget that loved ones of trauma victims are going through trauma, too. It might be beneficial for both of you to visit with a therapist.”

  “Why do you keep saying I should go to a therapist? You think I’m going to develop, like, some crazy personality disorder or something?”

  “Trauma affects everyone differently.”

  River inhaled a deep breath and said, “Well, I’ll tell you one thing. All this certainly changes my relationship to gauze.”

  Yardley chuckled. River watched her. “You should laugh more often. I don’t think you do it enough.”

  “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like there’s much to laugh about.”

  “There’s always things to laugh about, Jess. We’re here to have joy, not to pay bills until we end up in a cemetery.”

  Yardley didn’t reply. Eddie Cal had told her almost the identical thing, and the memory sent a cold shiver up her back.

  “Um, I think I have a bottle of chardonnay if you’d like to stay a bit longer.”

  “I’d love to.” River hesitated. “I . . . don’t really want to be alone right now.”

  “Me neither.”

  14

  Yardley smelled coffee and bacon when she stirred in bed and wondered if Tara was cooking breakfast. She rose and put on a robe.

  River stood behind the stove, frying bacon and making omelets. A stack of pancakes with butter sat on the counter with what looked like homemade whipped cream next to it.

  “Hey,” she said, noticing Yardley, “you’re up. Hope I didn’t overstep my bounds, but I figured it’s just breakfast.”

  “Smells good,” she said, sitting on a stool at the island in the center of the kitchen. “How was the guest room?”

  “So nice. That bed is way softer than mine. I seriously love it here. You’re so lucky.” She glanced at her. “So I found your copy of Fifty Shades in the drawer, you naughty girl.”

  Yardley chuckled. “For research.”

  “I bet.”

  Yardley took some bacon and bit into it. “The omelets look amazing. Where’d you learn to cook?”

  “It’s just necessity. My family wasn’t exactly the Leave It to Beaver type, so if I wanted to eat, I had to cook it myself.”

  Tara came out, fully dressed and with her hair still damp from the shower. “Look at you two up all early,” she said, going to the plate of pancakes and taking one on a napkin.

  “Wanna sit with us for breakfast?” River said.

  “Can’t. Gotta run,” Tara said. “Thanks, though. Mom thinks breakfast is coffee and sweetener.” She kissed Yardley on the cheek on her way out. “Staying late at the lab tonight, don’t wait up.”

  River watched her leave and then said, “We chatted for a bit this morning. I don’t sleep much, and apparently, she doesn’t either. I hope that’s okay that we talked.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  “School, mostly. I was in graduate school, too. I mean, not for anything like her, she’s a genius, but I was proud I was there. Wish I’d finished.”

  “What were you studying?”

  “Mythology and folklore. The most practical of all degrees, of course.”

  “Why’d you—”

  Yardley’s phone vibrated on the counter. She saw from the ID it was Baldwin.

  “Excuse me,” she said before answering. “Little early, isn’t it, Cason?”

  “Sorry to bug you.”

  “It’s fine. What’s going on?”

  “I think you should probably come down to Harmony’s house. I found her phone, and some blood nearby, Jess. I think he hit the mother and now he’s got the daughter. I certified her case as a kidnapping and we got some deputies here combing the woods—”

  “I’m coming right now.”

  Several cruisers were already in front of the Pharrs’ home, as was Baldwin’s black Mustang. Uniformed deputies from the Sheriff’s Office were going in and out of the house, a few of them photographing the yard and surrounding area.

  Inside, the home was cluttered and messy. Tucker Pharr stood against the counter with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Yardley recognized him from the booking photos for his kidnapping charges.

  Baldwin stood at the bedroom door, directing a few forensic techs.

  “What’d you find?” she said.

  He glanced at her and then motioned outside with his head. They stepped onto the porch, and he exhaled loudly. “Found her phone in a tree house out back. Forensics searched the area and found a necklace. I showed it to her dad, and he identified it as Harmony’s. Said she doesn’t go anywhere without it. The necklace wasn’t unclasped—it was broken. Like it had been pulled off her neck.”

  “And the blood?”

  “They found some on the necklace. We’ll know soon if it’s hers or not, but this isn’t looking good, Jess. I think the Executioner grabbed her, and we’re going to find her strung up like—”

  “Anything on the phone?” she said, interrupting him. She didn’t want to think about the third Sarpong painting.

  “No texts out of the ordinary. He didn’t contact her that way.”

  “He had to have known about the tree house somehow.”

  “He could have been following her, like he did Angela River. He saw his opportunity and he took it. I spoke to Garrett and he said he thinks Harmony ran away. That Tucker barely knows her and she’s got a file at DCFS showing she’s run away twice before. But with the blood and broken necklace, that’s really unlikely at this point.”

  Yardley looked out over the front yard. “We should have had a detail on her, Cason.”

  “We can ‘should have’ ourselves into old age. These things are unpredictable. We had no idea this is how it would play out.” He placed his hands on his hips and watched a blood pattern analysis technician put his equipment away. “Well, I’m open to ideas.”

  Yardley glanced around. The mobile park had a playground not far from the Pharrs’ home. The equipment was decrepit, rust coating much of it. The grass it’d been built on was yellow, with patches of nothing more than bare dirt.

  A truck pulled to a stop, and Kyle Jax stepped out. Baldwin had likely notified him as well, as this would officially be his case soon. He had his sucker tucked against his cheek and a leather jacket on. He nodded to a few of the officers and joined them on the porch.

  “Tree house in back?”

  Baldwin nodded. “I was just telling Jessica we found a necklace with blood nearby. The girl’s dad said she’s never without it.”

  “This place isn’t that big. Someone saw something. Keep working the canvass. And let’s get the dad in for an interview. I don’t like that he’s got a kidnapping conviction against a girl his daughter’s age.”

  “I’ve done this once or twice, you know,” Baldwin said.

  “No need to
get pissy, just making sure we’re all doing what we should be doing.” Jax took the sucker out of his mouth and said, “Where’s the dad?”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like to speak with him myself first.”

  Yardley said, “Agent Baldwin has been speaking with him the entire morning. Maybe let’s give him a little break.”

  “I’ll be quick. Promise,” he said with a wink.

  Yardley folded her arms. “Kyle, give the father a little break. He lost his wife and now his daughter.”

  “He also kidnapped a girl her age. That doesn’t seem like too big a coincidence to you?”

  Baldwin said, “I’m not ruling anything out, but he has a fifth-grade education. Does he strike you as someone who’s intimately familiar with the works of an obscure Kenyan painter?”

  “Don’t know. Haven’t had a face-to-face with him yet. In Narcs, everything is about reading people. I’m going to get a read on him myself. You guys got a problem with that, take it up with Roy.” He winked at Yardley. “Don’t worry yourself, sweet cheeks. I know what I’m doing.”

  Once he was inside, Baldwin said, “Me and that guy are not going to have a good time together.”

  “Well, you better have a come-to-Jesus talk with him because you two will be working closely.”

  Baldwin looked out at the playground. “You sure about it?”

  “About what?”

  “Leaving. Don’t you have that tingling of excitement right now? That rush when you heard about her phone and necklace? You know exactly what you’ll feel when we find out the killer’s identity and what happened to Harmony. It’s like a shot of adrenaline straight into your heart. I know you’ve felt it before. You really not going to miss that?”

  “I don’t feel excitement, Cason. I just feel . . . sad. Sad for her and sad for her family.” She inhaled deeply and said, “Call me with any updates. I think I know someone who can help with this.”

  15

  Yardley arrived at the restaurant early to get a table. It was the type of place she hated: glitzy and overpriced. But it was also the sort of restaurant she could see the man she was meeting with liking. Someplace to try to impress others.

  She was given a booth, and they brought warm bread and olive oil. She took a few small bites before Jude Chance came in.

  He was slim and wore glasses, with a balding head that appeared incongruous for how young he was. He scanned the room until he saw her.

  “Looking hot as ever,” he said, sitting down.

  “Don’t make me throw a drink.”

  He smiled and took some of the bread. “That’s what I’ve always liked about you, J. You got balls. Most people who need something from me, they’d let me say whatever I want, but I have a feeling if I commented on your ass, you would clock me in the jaw.”

  “Maybe. I have Mace, too.”

  He chuckled. “Wine or beer?”

  “Beer, thank you.”

  He called over a server and ordered a steak with butter and onions and two beers.

  “So what’s up?” Chance said with a mouthful of bread.

  “I’m guessing you already know about Harmony Pharr.”

  “Of course. Wouldn’t be much of a crime reporter if I wasn’t on top of the biggest case this town’s had in a decade. I read some idiotic piece on it just before I came here, actually. It was that dickhead Johnny McDermott. He said he thinks there’s two of ’em.”

  “Two?”

  “Executioners. That one of them is trying to get caught, and the other isn’t. It’s moronic and he wrote it just to get clicks, but how crazy would that be? Oh, I haven’t even asked, do you like the moniker? The Executioner? I was thinking the Butcher, it brings up more savage imagery, but it didn’t really fit since there’s not much blood involved. By the way, that was brilliant identifying it as the work of Sarpong. I think that would’ve taken the FBI and Sheriff’s Office months to figure out.”

  Only a small handful of people knew about the connection to the paintings. So small that Yardley could count them on one hand.

  “It never stops amazing me how good your information is, Jude. How do you do it? Everyone who knows about the paintings was warned to keep it to themselves, that lives were at stake, that their supervisors would make heads roll if they leaked it to the public this early, but you still found out.”

  He shrugged, a smug grin on his face. “Who says it’s not the supervisors themselves? You want stuff to stop leaking, pay them more so they don’t need my money.”

  “So I take it that means you won’t tell me? Even if I promise it’ll stay between us?”

  “Not on your life.”

  The server brought over two glasses of beer. Chance guzzled his and finished it off. Yardley pushed hers toward him and said, “Enjoy.”

  He began sipping hers.

  “So J, you never call me unless you don’t have anywhere else to turn. Do you not like me?”

  “I like you fine. I just have to be careful. If it ever got out we exchange information, my boss may have an issue with it.”

  “Why? As long as the prick in the defendant’s chair gets convicted, what’s he care?”

  She shook her head as she folded her arms and leaned them on the table. “Doesn’t work like that. Appearances are everything. I sometimes think they’d rather have good public perception about a case than actually get a conviction on it.”

  He took a big swig of the beer. “Shit, it’s like that anywhere. That’s what bureaucracy is. Move shit slow and cover your ass. That’s why I quit the papers and went out on my own.”

  “You ever thought of heading back to the legitimate news world?”

  He chuckled. “Legitimate? There’s no news source that’s legitimate. Everyone’s got an agenda they’re pushing.” His phone buzzed with a text, and he quickly typed a response, then said, “Anyway, I haven’t talked to you for a bit. What you been up to?”

  “I’m retiring, actually.”

  He put the phone down on the table. “No shit? From law?”

  “I don’t know from the law, but from prosecution. I’m moving to Santa Bonita. I was thinking of opening a solo practice and just taking simple cases. I would love to do a few wills and adoptions every month.”

  He glanced toward some young women walking by and said, “Bit of unsolicited advice? That ain’t you. Not even close. You’ll miss this shit. I’ve seen it before in some of the detectives and federal agents. I would really think about it before you throw it away.” He finished off the beer. “Cops always think they’ll be happy retiring and bodyguarding celebrities, but they never are. Some people just need to be part of the chase, you know?”

  Yardley leaned back, took a breath, and glanced around the restaurant. “I need what you have on Harmony.”

  “Yeah?” he said, looking down at the empty glass in his hand. “And how do you know I got anything you don’t?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t, but I know you have sources that won’t talk to me.”

  “What do I get in return?”

  “What do you want?”

  A sparkle lit his eyes. “You heard about the serial rapist in Bloomington? The one breaking into houses?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s your esteemed colleague Brittney Smith’s case. She’s always hated me. Won’t give me anything. And she went down and talked to the detective sergeant in Sex Crimes and threatened him with prosecution if the evidence they have gets leaked to the press, so he’s keeping everything close to the chest. I want you to get it for me.”

  “That’s being handled by the county. I have no jurisdiction to tell them what to do.”

  “Yeah, but you and Brittney like each other, right? Sisterhood of the Special Victims Traveling Pants or whatever? I don’t give a shit how you do it; just get me what they got so I can write a story about it.”

  “I won’t do that on an active case, but I will talk to Brittney for you. I’ll tell her you’re good people and it’s nice to hav
e you owing a favor. She’ll give you something.”

  He thought a moment. “Well, better than nothing. You got a deal.”

  The server came over with full glasses of beer and removed the empty ones.

  “What do you have?” she said.

  “The dad. He’s got one conviction for kidnapping a girl the same age, which I’m guessing you’ve seen, right?”

  “I have. I also know he has an expunged charge from 2002 for the same thing.”

  “Huh. Hard even for you guys to see expunged files from that long ago. How’d you learn about that?”

  “I have my sources, too,” she said with a grin. “You better have something better than that.”

  “How about this: Did you see how many times Child Services was called to their house on reports of physical or sexual abuse?”

  “I did. Eight.”

  “Yeah, eight. Eight damn times, and that girl still wasn’t taken out of that house. Kathy would bring in these pieces’a shit she was dating and some of them would abuse Harmony. There was one boyfriend, though, that was the worst of the bunch. Sent her to the emergency room twice. My source at the PD said Harmony testified against him in one of his trials and put him away for one to fifteen. The DCFS files are protected, but if you get that and get a name, you owe me. ’Cause I bet you another dinner that prick was released and came looking for some payback.” He glanced around the restaurant. “I, um, have something else, too.”

  “What?”

  “Well, let’s just consider it a little gift. A photograph that I think you’re going to be very interested in.”

  16

  Yardley stood behind Baldwin at his desk. They had put in a subpoena with the Department of Child and Family Services for all the files they had on Harmony Pharr and were waiting to hear back. In the meantime, Yardley wanted to dive into Tucker Pharr’s background.

  “Tucker B. Pharr,” Baldwin said. “Born June of sixty-six, eighteen arrests and half a dozen convictions. Most serious one we got is for kidnapping, where he served twelve years in Low Desert Plains and was released four months ago, and we also got that kidnapping arrest in oh two that was dismissed and then expunged. Expunged files from that long ago won’t be in the system.” He leaned back and looked at her. “He says the one he was convicted for was just a big misunderstanding. What do you think the odds are that would happen twice?”