by Peggy Dulle
Matthew reached out his hand and Jake gave him the pictures. Matthew studied them for a moment, looked up and said, “Are you sure?”
Our eyes locked. In his I saw confusion and doubt. I stepped toward him. “Trust me.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“I just got a call from Ron but he hasn't yet realized that I've figured it out.”
Matthew pointed to the empty chair by Jake. “Sit down and tell us what he said.”
I joined the team and related the entire conversation. When I was finished I said, “There's always a little bit of truth in everything he says.”
“Okay, so what's important about your conversation?” Jake asked.
“Right off the top of my head, I'd start with two clues. First, that time slipped away for William and that we probably had four or five hours left.”
“What does that mean?” John asked.
I stood, paced, and focused on each of the Jackal's words. William's face flowed into my vision, but I pushed it away. Emotions wouldn't help me right now.
What would change in four or five hours? I asked myself.
Jake must have tried to put his hand on my shoulder or speak to me because I heard Matthew say. “No, don't, let her think. She's best when she puts herself into the mind of the killer.”
Why and how does something slip away? What takes four or five hours to slip away? Is that something slipping fast or slow? What can slip away at a variable speed? I stopped. “Wherever William is, he has four or five hours before he'll die. But the Jackal also said probably, so he's not sure about the time frame either. And what slips away?”
Everyone in the room shrugged.
My cell phone rang again. We all stared at it. I glanced down, recognized the number, and shook my head. “It's Bob. I sent him and a couple officers over to the diner.”
“Then maybe the Jackal's already in custody.” Jake smiled with more optimism in his voice than I had ever heard before.
“From your lips to God's ears, Jake,” I said, although I doubted that the Jackal's game would be over that quickly.
“Do you have them in custody?” I asked Bob, before he could speak.
“The diner was closed so we went over to their house.”
I sighed and shook my head. “What did you find?”
“Erma's dead and Ron's gone.”
“Damn. How was she killed?”
“Shot in the head. It was quick.”
He probably didn't have time for anything else. Or maybe on some level he did love Erma and didn't want her to suffer. Serial killers were usually sociopaths. Could a sociopath actually love someone? Erma was a great lady. A wave a grief wafted over me; I pushed it away. No time for that now.
“What next?” Bob asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“Close up the house and get back here. I'll call Simon and have him send a crime scene unit to see if we can get any clues as to where Ron has gone.”
“Okay, Chief. We're on our way back.” Bob hung up.
I relayed the information about Ron and Erma to the team.
“How well do you know Ron?” Matthew asked.
“We grew up together, but he left town when he was a teenager. His parents got a divorce and he went to Michigan to live with his mom. I met him again when I came back here.”
“Is there anything from your childhood that could be related to the 'slipping away' comment?” Matthew asked.
“Not that I can think of.”
Jake glanced at his watch. “It's after six in the morning. Four or five hours would put the Jackal's time frame around ten or eleven. Does anything special happen in Arroyo at that time?”
“Nope.” I shook my head and gave a short snort. “Normally, nothing ever happens here.”
Just then Bob came into the room, Doc following him.
I didn't have the time or the inclination to explain things to Doc. When he started to speak, I said, “What can I do for you, Doc?”
“Mrs. Towers finally delivered a small, but healthy little boy.” His smile turned into a frown. “I wanted to stop by and make sure you hadn't passed out again.”
“I'm fine, Doc,” I ignored the looks of concern from Matthew, Jake, Sheryl and John.
He glanced around the room. “Anything you want to tell me, Connie?”
“Not now, Doc, I'll see you later.”
“Okay, I'm headed home. The weatherman says the rain should start later this morning and pour the entire day.” He waved and left the room.
I started to pace around the room, again. Rain? Broken levees? The bridge? The river? The animal burrows? The place that the girls' bones probably came out of?
“Bob.”
“Yeah, Chief?”
“Have you been over by the river lately?”
“I checked it a few days ago. No water running, but I guess it will fill up again with the rain coming.”
“How do the sides look?”
“The sides of what?”
“The river.”
“Oh, the water has eroded quite a bit of the land. Mayor Benson is going to be thrilled. He’ll have to ask the governor to fix that, too. And you know how well he gets along with his brother-in-law, Governor Johnson.”
“That's it.” I turned to Matthew. “The old animal burrows on the sides of the river. The animals dug them after the river stopped flowing because the dirt was loose, almost like silk.”
Matthew stood. “Okay. What's that got to do with Ron or William?”
“Some of the burrows are large enough to hide in. Ron and I used to play hide-and-seek in them when we were in elementary school. That's where I think he hid the two girls' bodies after he killed them.”
“And maybe where he's got William?”
I nodded.
“How long a stretch of river are we talking about, Connie?” Matthew asked.
I looked at Bob. “What do you think? From where we broke up the levees so the water could flow to Lake Arroyo.”
“It's got to be twenty or twenty-five miles.”
“That's what I thought, too.” I turned to Matthew. “I'm going to call Simon, the chief over in Parsonville. I'll get him to send his crime scene to the Jolsen's house. Then he can take the rest of his officers and start at the top end where we redirected the water. We can start at Lake Arroyo and work our way toward them.” I paused, thinking.
“Also it's still pitch black out there,” I continued. “What little light we might have gotten from the moon is nonexistent because of cloud cover. It's going to be very tedious work to check every hole and I don't know if we can get it done before the rain starts. It will be easier once the sun comes up in an hour or so. But that's still a lot of land to cover in four hours.”
“I can call for more men, but it will take several hours for them to get here,” Matthew said.
“I'll get the fire department and their volunteers to help us,” I said. “That will give us another twenty people. But make the call, Matthew. If we haven't found him in the next couple of hours, we'll need all the help we can get.”
Matthew nodded, took out his cell phone, and walked out of the room.
I turned to the rest of them. “Dress warmly, bring an umbrella or rain poncho, and wear boots if you have them. Our weatherman hasn't been very accurate lately. The rain may come in an hour or not for another day.”
“Let's pray for it to hold off,” Jake said. Everyone nodded.
I turned to Bob. “Call Judy and have her bring the school bus over here. It's the fastest way to get us all out there.”
He nodded and left the room.
John stepped forward. “Give me Chief Billing's number over in Parsonville, I'll call him. You round up your people for the search.”
“Thanks, John.” I wrote Simon's number down on a piece of paper and handed it to him.
He took the paper and left the room.
“What about portable lights?” Jake asked.
“We've got a few with generators, but not
enough to light up that many miles of riverbed,” I told him. “They're stored with the fire department. I'll have them bring them, but big huge flashlights might be better.”
Bob came back into the room. “Judy's on her way. Her three sons are part of the volunteer fire department, so I told her to bring them with her.”
“Good. Can you call Stan and have him open his store? We need some big flashlights.”
“I'll call him and then go pick them up. I'll meet you at the lake.”
“Perfect. I'll make the call to Peter and get his people going, too.” Peter Edwards was our fire chief. Bob left and I turned to Jake, Sheryl and the other agents. “Get your warm clothing and meet in the front of the station.”
Everyone nodded and left the room.
Except Jake. He hung back and slid next to me. “How are you holding up?”
“I'm fine.”
“William followed you here, didn't he?”
“Yes.” I frowned at him. “He said it was your idea.”
“Well, I thought it was a good idea at the time. How'd that go?”
“We talked, he left.”
Jake nodded. “You do realize that if William hadn't been there for the Jackal to pick up, he'd have taken you.”
“Yes,” I said, although I hadn't really thought about it. Ever since William had been taken, I had been on autopilot, just doing my job.
Jake interrupted my thoughts. “And you'd be dead.”
I nodded. It was hard to feel good about William being kidnapped but I understood Jake. Taking him extended the Jackal's game with me.
Jake went to get his overcoat and I went into my office to call Peter Edwards. He was instantly alert.
“We've got three pairs of lights with generators, I'll bring them along. Also you might be able to get more help from the park rangers over at the lake. Give Herman Snell a call. I've worked with him a few times when tourists get lost on their hikes.”
“Good idea, Peter.”
“See you in a few minutes at the lake.”
“Thanks.” I made the call to Herman. He said he had five people and another pair of lights that he could bring to the search.
“Most of my people are on vacation,” he added. “This is our slow time, so I let the other five go home. I can call them back if you want me to, but it will take several hours for them to get here.”
“I don't know, Herman. I've got more Federal agents coming about that same time. But if we haven't found the kidnapped agent by then, I'll take any help I can get.”
“Okay, I'll put in a call to them. We'll meet you at the top of Lake Arroyo where the river dumps into it.”
“Thanks, Herman.”
I took several deep breaths and left my office.
The next nine hours passed in a blur.
6:30 am: The lights were set up, the noise of the generators was deafening as it echoed through the night. Five of the volunteer firemen continually moved the lights. I left Matthew and John in charge, and Jake and I searched the burrows, using flashlights to see into some of the deeper holes. As we finished a section, the lights were moved and set up at the end of the line. We had to examine both sides of the river, so it was slow going.
7:00 am: The five extra park rangers arrived. I added them to the line of people checking the river. Doc also arrived with ten more townspeople. He was angry that I hadn't told him about William being taken.
“You're family, Connie,” he scowled. “William's more than just some federal agent, he's your friend. That makes him part of the Arroyo family, too.”
I gave him a big hug and sent him off to help the EMTs take care of the people that came back with scrapes, bruises, and twisted ankles from searching in the foot-deep silt that permeated the riverbed.
7:30 am: The sun came up enough for us to see, although everyone kept their flashlights to penetrate into the back of the deep holes.
8:30 am: The rain didn't arrive and we met the team coming from the head of the river. Since neither group had located William, we passed each other and kept searching, double checking each burrow again. Several extra agents arrived and I tried to use them as relief for some of the townspeople but they all refused to go home. I handed them each a flashlight and explained about searching the holes. They took their places between the townspeople and the original agents.
12:00 noon: I sent Bob to get food for the searchers. He brought back an entire car full of pizza and bottled water. Everyone grabbed a few pieces and some water before they went back to search. I didn't stop. Luckily, there still was no rain. Thank God the weatherman was his usual inept self. Maybe William wouldn't slip away after all.
3:00 pm: After nine hours of searching, we reached the place where Bob and I had redirected the water. We had trudged through the mud of the riverbed and searched every inch of it and hadn't found William.
Frustration, anger, and fear gnawed at me. Keeping my emotions from exploding had been easy while I was busy searching, but now my mind spun and the bile in my stomach crept up my throat.
“Damn!” I said through clenched teeth. “How could we have missed him?”
“Could you have been wrong? Maybe slipping away means something else.” Jake suggested tentatively.
“No.” I shook my head. I knew the Jackal and his clues and I knew Ron. “Something else must have happened.” My body started to tremble. I had held myself together for so long, but my composure began to crack.
Jake grabbed my arm and steadied me. “Look, let's get out of these filthy clothes, re-group at the station, and figure out what to do next.”
My clothes, boots, and hands were coated with mud from the river. I probably had it in my hair too. But I didn't care how I looked; we needed to find William. He had been there to find me and I wouldn't let him down.
“Let's take another walk down the river.”
As I started to walk away, Jake pulled me back. His eyes narrowed and his tone left no place for discussion. “You're going on no sleep and no food. You will take a few minutes to clean up and have some food before we continue.” He signaled to a Parsonville cop who stood by his squad car.
“Give Chief Davenport a ride to her house.” To me he said, “I'll tell John that we'll meet back at the station.”
I shook my head. “No, I should do it. This is my town.”
“Look at yourself, Connie. You're filthy and haven't slept in almost twenty-four hours. I know I can't get you to take a nap, but at least take a shower, get out of those clothes, and then get back to the station.”
“But. . .,” I started.
“No!” He turned me around and pushed me toward the squad car. “Put her in handcuffs if she tries to get you to take her anyplace but her house,” he said.
The patrolman smiled.
I sneered at them. But I knew Jake was right. It would feel good to get out of my muddy clothes and I needed my mind fresh to figure out what to do next.
When the patrolman dropped me off, I went into my house through the back door. I put my shoulder holster and gun on the kitchen counter, then stripped out of my filthy clothes in the kitchen because I didn't want to tramp mud all over my house. I threw the dirty clothes on top of the washing machine and ran down the hall.
I walked into my bedroom, glanced at my bed, and frowned. Jake was right, I was exhausted. I shook my head, went into the bathroom and took a hot shower. Chunks of mud fell out of my hair, dissolved, and went down the drain. When I got out, I felt even more exhausted, so I got back in, turned on the cold water and let it revitalize my body. It was icy, but I felt better when I stepped out the second time.
I changed into my uniform, grabbed my utility belt as I left the bedroom and slung it over my shoulder. I needed to get my gun out of the kitchen; then I would be ready to go. When I got to the kitchen, Ron sat at the table holding my gun.
Chapter 31
My stomach lurched, then tightened into a hard knot. I swallowed back the fear that crept up my spine and sat down with hi
m, setting my utility belt on the table. Maybe I should pretend I didn't know he was the Jackal. He might let something slip that would help me find William. But there wasn't time for more games. William was probably dead and I was next. I just stared at Ron, glanced at my gun, and then looked back at him.
“How'd you know?” Ron frowned. The lines in his face deepened, his expression was a mixture of disbelief, angst, and a bit of amusement.
“I recognized the two girls in the pictures. I saw you with them the day before you moved to Michigan with your mom.”
“But you didn't study the pictures long enough to recognize the girls, and I took the pictures.”
“I got another set from the person who drew them.”
Ron puffed up his broad chest and his expression was filled with pride, like I had seen when he served me a meal that I liked. “Those two were my first kills.”
Hoping to appear more collected than I felt, I shook my head. “The one with the bashed-in head, her death was an accident, not one of your victims.”
His shoulders slumped.
“Yeah. We were playing in the old animal burrows, she fell and hit her head. The other one started to scream. I put my hand over her mouth, but she wouldn't stop.” He pulled out a long hunting knife; his pale eyes sparkled as he glanced between me and the blade. Then his jaw tightened and his eyes darkened with fury. “But I had the knife my dad gave me. That finally shut her up.”
“So why did you stab the dead girl?”
“Practice.” He shrugged.
My entire body felt like a tightly wound coil, ready to spring, but I kept my voice calm as I asked, “So, is William still alive?”
“I don't know.” His smile broadened and he choked back a laugh. “I haven't checked him recently.”
The first dark wave of understanding wormed its way through my brain. He was crazy. How hadn't I seen it before? And this lunatic had kidnapped William. The beginning tremors of a full-scale panic attack welled up in my body. I took a deep breath and bit the inside of my cheek, quelling the runaway emotions.
I clasped my hands together, interlocking my fingers. Leaning forward, I asked, “Was he ever at the river?”
“Oh yeah, you did a good job figuring out my clues.”