by R. T. Wolfe
Dave understood the need to be emotionally removed, and wasn't he often accused of that exact thing? This was different. He cringed at the coroner's calloused descriptions. He would get through this with precision, then head to the station to piece together leads and probabilities.
* * *
Walking into his office, Dave's aide carried coffee, soda and a file folder. "I see," she said as she gestured to the photo of Cynthia Coleman.
"Yeah. Shit." Dave took the Styrofoam cup.
He stood at his case board scribbling notes. Next to him was the sketch of Michael Rainer taped in the column labeled Description. He'd already memorized it. It hung next to the Known Victims column bearing both Amanda's and Cynthia Coleman's photos, before and after for both.
"Get out your notepad. I want three extra paper pushers searching police department databases for cases of multiple reports of pending battery and robbery, sexual assault and robbery, or both. Tell them to start with bigger cities this side of the Mississippi."
Dave rubbed the stubble on his cheek. He'd been called to the scene at 2 a.m. He had to leave Amanda with the damned dog. She thought nothing of it. Once a cop's wife, he thought.
"I'm going back out there to ask around now that people are up and before they leave for work." Dave had seen his share of beaten and murdered women. This was different. A small chill made his shoulders shake. "You get busy leading the search over state lines. Any hits you get, fax them a copy of that." He pointed over his shoulder at the rendering of the alias Michael Rainer.
His assistant set the bottle of soda on Dave's worn desk, opened the file folder and started taping up photos in the Suspected Victims column. "No, I meant I see that you went out on this call without me. Not that I don't appreciate you taking me on as your aide, but how the hell am I going to learn if you don't contact me when you get a call? And I'm a genius."
Dave walked over and looked at the before and after photos of the new women that were posted in the Suspected Victims column. Each was labeled at the bottom with name, age and city. Pittsburgh; Indy; Washington, D.C.; Chicago; and Milwaukee. "How? When?"
His assistant sat down, crossing one ankle over the other on Dave's desk. "I told you, I'm a genius and while you were reconciling and consoling your ex, I was pulling an all-nighter."
"You're right. I apologize. I should have called. I was... wasn't thinking."
"On account of the situation, forget about it." His assistant nodded toward the photos. "Each of these women had years of scattered robbery and assault reports. The perp fits the basic description. Aliases used so far are Maarten Ricks, Monty Rodriguez and Miguel Rauel. Initials M.R. Michael Rainer fits." His aide walked up to the Coleman picture, studied the notes underneath. "What makes you think this one's connected if money was left on her?"
"He was angry. Amanda said no to him. Physically hurt him. Emotionally humiliated him." Dave took a deep breath, his mind spinning with plans and strategies. "Catch a nap in the bunk room, then see what else you can come up with."
* * *
"This is Jenna Woith, reporting live for WCEL TV, from the Birds of Prey Research and Action Center. We are here this morning to join in the ribbon cutting ceremony for the newly constructed predatory bird aviary."
"This is stupid," Rose said.
Andy could hear her grind her teeth. "This is publicity." He held tightly onto her arm.
"This is a dog and pony show."
Conceding with a tilted nod, he whispered, "You look beautiful."
"I don't look any different than I do any other day. You're all cleaned up. Look at the size of those obnoxious scissors. The frigging mayor is here. Do I have to? This is Dr. Gray's research center."
"You look like a doctor of biology who specializes in conservation. I'm dressed like I own my own building and developing business." He resisted kissing her cheek. "And, yes, you have to cut the ribbon with the scissors. It's ceremony and this is your project, not Paul's."
She stepped out smiling widely, motioning dramatically for him to follow.
The small crowd applauded.
"Thank you all for coming," Rose said with a clear voice as the reporter shoved the microphone inches from her face. Without acknowledging it was there, Rose continued, "What we have here is a place for injured birds to properly rehabilitate and for Gracie the eagle, our newest addition to the center's education animals." She continued articulately and with appropriate enthusiasm citing a summary of Gracie's avian pox and the events of the animal's life that followed.
He thought she was seamless. She presented just enough facts to keep it interesting and impress the audience without losing the attention of those who weren't into this kind of thing and were really just here to make an appearance. Although the catalyst was Gracie, Rose used the present lead-poisoned bald eagle as an example, making sure to emphasize the enclosure would assist all injured birds, not just the one.
She gestured for him to take the lead. "Please give a warm welcome to Andrew Reed, owner of Reed Builders, whose generous donations of both materials and labor made this all possible. Andy?"
He thought that for how much she hated this, Rose could put on a good show. He couldn't resist shooting her a small wink as he took the podium.
He looked at the crowd and noticed the reporter in the front row lifted a brow.
"Thank you, Dr. Piper." He wore his black dress pants, Duncan's Italian shoes, a fitted gray-blue shirt, and a black tie. "It is the honor of Reed Builders that we were able to give this gorgeous animal a place to spread her wings and thrive as much as humanely possible. Gracie is special, and in a way, represents many species, winged and not, that are at the whim of human intervention. Let's cut the ribbon and set her loose!"
Applause rippled as he glanced over his shoulder at Rose. He did a double take when he saw water pooled in her eyes. She blinked twice at him, then headed for the giant scissors. Smiling at the cameras, she cut the ribbon, cheered and then politely directed the group to the outside of the structure.
He helped with the podium and with the nosy Jenna Woith. Nudging her out of the enclosure, he shut the door securely behind them. They watched as Grace and Rose put on their leather gloves, then stepped out with Gracie tethered to Rose's arm. The enclosure was extensive. He had installed artificial trees at each end that would scrape and peel much like the feel of actual bark and branches. In the middle was a large water tank because damn it if he wouldn't ensure the girl would have her chance at fishing. He wished the area could be taller, as it went only up about three stories.
Jenna Woith edged closer and, while keeping her eyes on the bird, leaned toward him and whispered in his ear, "You two make a cute couple. The conservationist and the land developer. That could make a great story."
He stood expertly expressionless.
"You're Nathan Reed's boy, aren't you?"
He'd had years of practice with reporters who tried to crash the house showing his uncle offered his friends and customers every other year.
He turned slightly to look at her with eyes of steel. "We're here for Gracie today." Then pretended she wasn't there.
The euphoric feeling of watching the girl take her first, honest flight surprised him. There was enough room for her to spread her wings and glide momentarily before perching on a protruding branch and screeching loudly. "Ha! Look at her!" He swore she was working the crowd.
Rose and Grace high-fived over success that was a longtime coming.
* * *
"This was his doing, wasn't it?" Amanda took the story she'd printed from the Northridge News site and set it on Dave's desk.
He sighed and nodded. "I think so, yes."
"Did you see it? Was it as bad as they say?" She paced. "I can't help but feel responsible."
Dave got up and took her gently by the shoulders. "No more feeling responsible." Then, brushed his thumb over her chin.
"What happens now? What can I do to help?" she spoke into his chest.
"At so
me point, we'll bring you back in for more questioning. For now, be careful, be safe."
She frowned at him.
"His pattern is to hit and run. He's likely moved on now. Our work will be across state lines. We're gathering his hot spots. I'm working to clear out the women willing to leave and place unmarked patrols at the others. He's going to show up, Amanda. We're gonna get him." Brushing back the hair from her face, he changed the subject. "Where are you headed?"
"I've got a meeting with the M.O.D. at the shelter in Seneca Falls. I may have to work up plans for another can drive there. Then, I'll stop at the Waterloo location to make sure the volunteers for dinner show up. We've been having some issues there." In response to his scowl, she placed her hand on his cheek. "I've done this for years. I can't live in a closet. Won't."
"Don't go home alone." He put up a hand before she could speak; a pained expression formed on his face. "You owe me that. Go to Jessica's. I'll call when I'm done here. Please."
She had no choice but to nod in agreement. "We meet with Rose tomorrow at one."
* * *
"How many speeding tickets have you had?" Rose sat in the small bucket seat next to Andy as he took a corner.
"Not that many. Lately." She loved when he grinned at her from the corner of his eyes. "I don't speed. Mostly. I just like to get to the speed limit as quickly as possible." He winked and tucked her short hair behind her ear.
"Are you sure you want to be here for this?" She tilted her head. "I'm not sure what's up. Mom avoided me at your folks' on the Fourth."
She had watched them that day at the Reed's. She gave them the space they'd requested even though she wanted to pull her mother aside and demand an explanation. Instead, she waited. Seeing them like that had somehow soothed her curiosity. She'd always been able to accept the divorce of her parents. It had been a decision between two grown adults. But seeing them together, knowing they'd always longed for one another, overwhelmed both the daughter and the woman inside her. And now?
"I'm nowhere near ready to let you out of my sight," he answered.
Charcoal stood at the sidewalk, obediently resisting the urge to run into the street, even though he'd clearly heard the familiar rumble from Andy's car around the corner. Older and much calmer now, the only uncontrolled part of his greeting was his tail. It wagged madly while the rest of him waited patiently.
Andy parked along the curb. They got out at the same time. Squatting, Andy rubbed Charcoal's ears before playfully smacking his side. Males postured no matter what species, she thought. The Lab took the bait and lowered his chest to the grass, tail swishing and daring. Andy nearly mimicked the pose, then chased him in circles as they made their way to the front door. "You coming in?"
Rose smiled, knowing he was talking to the dog. Charcoal darted in front of them as if, of course, he'd understood what he'd been asked.
Dave and her mother were waiting in the front room, holding hands together on the couch. They left the loveseat for her and Andy. She felt subtle warmth at the sight of her nestled parents and the familiar scent of home.
They followed their lead into small talk that ranged from the scissor-cutting ceremony at the center to the dog's latest antics. She noticed as her mother wrung her hands.
"There's more to your father and I getting back together." Her mother blew out a breath.
Momentary silence followed the jump into the reason for the meeting.
"It's about your biological father. It's not pretty, and you'll need to decide if you want Andy to be here for this."
Rose was much more concerned with her mother's jittery behavior than any story about some person she never knew. Never did she feel any need to hear about her biological father as some missing-parent adults did. She was surprised at the topic, though. Very surprised and looked to Andy, read the acknowledgement in his eyes, then nodded to her mother.
"I met him in Nicaragua, but you know that." Her mother stammered in a way that was new to Rose. Keeping her gaze on her mother's eyes, she noticed Dave squeeze her fingers as they rested on her thigh. "I was working with Red Cross. We... no, the reason I was there doesn't matter. What matters is that he broke into my trailer and..." Dave slid an arm around her shoulder. "He came in and... raped me. I left for the states shortly after."
"Mom." Instinctively, Rose's fingers covered her cheeks, a painful wince distorting her face. "Oh, Mom. Why didn't you ever tell me?" Rose felt her face drop as realization filled her. "Oh."
Her mother sat very still.
"I'm so sorry," Rose said. "That must have been terrifying. Were you... hurt badly? Did you have anyone to help you?"
"I had you." Her mother smiled warmly. "It was my choice. I healed and learned I was pregnant with you." Letting go of Dave's hand, she straightened her shoulders and folded hers in her lap. "But I'm afraid that's not all."
"If you think I care one iota about who my sperm donor was, let me just say I'm not built that way. Biology is science. Family is love. I wish you wouldn't have held this in for so long, if you felt you needed to tell me."
"He's come back."
Rose's eyes burrowed. She waited a beat. "What do you mean come back?"
"I mean he's been here, broken into the house, stolen from me... from us. Dave is going to find him and put him away so he can't hurt anyone ever again, but I need you to be careful. He's a very dangerous man. Very, Rose. Dangerous."
Feeling heat crawl up her neck and over her face, Rose was certain her face showed the instant it all clicked. Call it woman's intuition, whatever.
"Your eye. Oh, oh, your eye. Mom." She stood from the couch and walked to her mother now. Standing, they embraced with awareness.
Rose pulled back, tears dripping down her cheeks. "How long? No. Don't tell me. My birthday. It was my eighteenth birthday." She pressed her hand to her mouth. "That's eight years." She turned away, running her hands through her hair, grabbing hold of large chunks. "No." She spun. "No, not my birthday."
Dave stood and wrapped his arms around her mother's waist, whispering in her ear, "Let her get it out."
"Great-granddad." Rose looked to her mother and saw the answer she was looking for before taking off out the front door with Andy tight on her heels.
Chapter 24
Andy woke early, just before dawn. Rose was warm and tucked closely into him. She'd tossed through the night, turning the pillow over more times than he could count. They'd stayed at her place. His was small but still three times the size of her place. She'd given him a solemn tour without moving from the entrance of her studio apartment by simply gesturing an arm to the left, then right.
He figured the Italian take-out calmed her stomach and the merlot her nerves. Very few words were spoken and it seemed to help her get a handle on this new revelation. She'd burrowed into him while wrapped in a tight ball, something he didn't ever remember her doing.
He heard her suck in a breath and knew when she woke. He tightened his hold, felt her shudder then relax.
"I want to go away," she whispered, eyes still closed. "Not run away, go away. I haven't taken time off, not even a weekend, since—well, since high school."
He rotated onto his back, pulling her partially on top of him, then guided her cheek to his shoulder. Running his hand from the crown of her head down to the middle of her back, he responded gently, "You should go see your mom first. She'll be worried."
"Yes." Rose sighed. "He killed my great-granddad. I can't wrap my head around what she's been through. How did I not see it? Any of it? We all assumed drugs while my mother was scared and hurt." She turned her face into his chest. "I want him in pain. I feel so angry I can't think. I want him in pain and I want him dead."
He held her closer and felt her skin begin to sheen with sweat. This would take time, he knew. A lot of time. Getting away was just what she needed. "She didn't want you to see, purposely hid it from all of you. She's a cunning woman, Rose. It runs in the family."
He lowered to kiss the top of her h
ead before pausing at the reference to family. Her cringe made him realize that she, too, caught the comparison. Sperm donor was easier to say before they were dealing with murder.
* * *
As agreed, Rose went to see her mother. Andy had left early to catch up at work and to give her time alone with her mom. Standing in the empty house, she kicked herself for not calling first.
"You're staring." She looked down from the corner of her eyes at Charcoal. He sat with his head cocked and tail wagging. "I guess I could take you for a walk before I go." Recognizing the word 'walk,' the dog circled and whined. She smiled and sighed.
An overnight rain made the brittle grass smell like wet straw. Charcoal kept pace at her side as they left the cul-de-sac. She hadn't taken the dog for a good solid walk in a long time and, as it generally did, actually felt nice to have time alone. As she rounded the corner to the Reeds' street, she saw Duncan loading his rental car.
"Leaving already?" she called as she led Charcoal up the drive.
"I have a project in L.A. but have a few days yet before I need to go. I wouldn't have missed your sister's wedding and I've never had the nerve to miss the Fourth." He squatted down, face-to-face with the dog, and rubbed his cheeks with his thumbs.
She noted how similar the action was to Andy's.
"He's looking well." Duncan looked up, then darted his gaze down the drive and squinted before turning back to the dog and scratching his ears.
"Well, then in case I don't see you." She reached down and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for butting into our business. You don't fool me with your hard shell. You have a heart of gold," she said, and then kissed the other cheek. "You'll be missed, Duncan. Don't stay away for so long this time."
He stood as she turned and called over her shoulder, "See you in the grocery store magazine rack the next time the paparazzi catches you with one of your clients!"
When she returned, she let Charcoal outside, checked his water, then came back in to write her mother a short note.
Dear Mom,