She held the chest tightly to her abdomen with both hands. "Let's get out of here, Dallin."
On the way back, a feeling of melancholy swept over her. There was no Calligrapher. There never had been. It had all been a ruse. Jules would have to start from scratch. She'd have to throw out almost everything she thought she knew about him. George Albrecht was a red herring. Nothing more.
Dallin interrupted her thoughts. "I-I don't get it. If it wasn't George, who was it?
"I don't know," Jules said absently. "Someone else."
"Someone in Gideon?"
"Yes," she told him.
"Damn," he said.
As they pulled into the parking lot, two words floated through Jules' mind. Red herring. The words had nagged at her ever since they'd left Albrecht's. And then she made the connection. Beckerman. His mind had been scrambled by the virus. "Not the mackerel," he'd repeated over and over again.
In Beckerman's virus-infested mind, he hadn't been able to come up with the words "red herring." Mackerel was as close as he could come, and he got stuck on the word. Beckerman had figured out that George Albrecht was nothing more than a red herring, and the real Calligrapher was living somewhere in Gideon.
Chapter 20
The Meeting
"Maybe you better tell him," Dallin said sheepishly.
"Tell me what?" Heath asked.
The three of them were huddled in Jules' tent, Dallin and Heath squatting and Jules sitting on her sleeping bag, the chest in her lap. She hadn't wanted anyone else to see the trophies.
"You were right …" Jules told him, morphing into her professional voice, "… about George Albrecht not being a serial killer. However, there is a serial killer in Gideon."
Jules opened the chest, angling it toward Heath so he could see its contents. He squinted and looked in the box, his mouth twisted in a dubious expression.
"These are the trophies collected by the serial killer the FBI has referred to as the Calligrapher," she explained in a flat tone. "They were hidden in a vent in George Albrecht's home. They were planted there along with other evidence by the real killer."
Jules reached into her pocket and handed him the note. "He also left this note. The chest and the note were left there recently. Very recently."
Heath read the note and looked long and hard at Jules. He obviously didn't want to believe it. "You sure you got this thing right?" he asked her.
"Yes. Since Albrecht is dead, and he had an alibi for one of the murders, the real killer had to have left the chest and the note in the vent. Dust in the vent indicated the items had been left there quite recently, very likely since I came to town. That makes the most sense, otherwise there wouldn't be a note with my name on it. And these are the trophies taken by the Calligrapher. There's no doubt about that. He also left more evidence at Albrecht's. Maybe you'd like to take a ride over and see for yourself."
"I can't leave now," Heath said, glancing at his watch. "We've got the town meeting in ten minutes. We need to keep this thing under wraps," he told them. "Mayor Nichols should know, but that's it. We can't have people going around half-cocked."
"Maybe we could go to Albrecht's after the meeting," Jules suggested.
"Yeah. Okay. I'll see what I can work out," Heath said. "I better find the mayor before the meeting. Let him know."
Jules set the box into her traveling bag and zipped it up. She didn't want Addy to see it. Something nagged at her. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
*****
Heath, Mayor Nichols, and Dallin stood under an old elm tree at the top of the rise. Mayor Nichols scratched at his beard and asked everyone to quiet down.
Almost everyone in camp was there.
Jules sat at a table in the middle of the picnic area with Addy and her new friend, Nikki Gibson. Jules was surprised when Angela Conway and her daughter joined them.
After everyone calmed down, Mayor Nichols started off. "As most of you know, last night we suffered a terrible loss during a supply run into Cedar City. Sophie Allenby was killed. A group in Cedar was responsible. Because of this group, supply runs into Cedar City have become increasingly more dangerous." He took a moment. "While we're close to having what we need, I'm afraid we still need more food to get us through the winter months. That means we're going to need volunteers to help out with this last run."
Heath spoke up. He stood erect, hands on hips. "I've talked to Caleb, and he says there's enough food in the Macey's in Cedar to finish stocking us up for the winter. But it's going to take a military style operation to get the food we need. We're not sure how big the group in Cedar is, but we know they're well-armed, and they seem to know whenever it is we show up."
Cole stood up. He'd been sitting at a table with Caleb, Gordo, and Josh near the rise. "Well, pardon the hell outta me," he squealed, "but that damned place is jinxed. We done tried it twice, and it's gone to hell twice. Sophie was thinking we oughta try the Walmart Distribution Center. And I'm thinking she was right. It's gotta be loaded with food and anything else we'd need."
A murmuring din of voices rose from the tables.
Heath motioned with his hands for everyone to settle down. "Caleb and I have talked that over. Problem is we don't know what the hell we might be facing at the distribution center and it's further away."
"Well, maybe someone oughta check the damned place out then," Cole whined sarcastically. He looked around the picnic area for support.
Dallin spoke up. "This isn't your p-party, Cole."
"What the hell do you know, Ch-Ch-Chester," Cole stuttered mockingly.
Jules couldn't believe how fast Dallin Petersen moved. He covered the ten yards between them before Cole could flinch. He slammed into Cole and drove him into the ground. They rolled around awkwardly for several seconds in the dirt, arms and legs flailing, neither of them gaining an advantage. Gordo grabbed Cole by the scruff of the neck and dragged him away as if Cole were a lightweight scarecrow.
Dallin got to his feet and brushed himself off. He glared at Cole and took a threatening step toward him. Gordo held Cole back.
Heath hadn't moved. His hands remained fixed to his hips. "You two finished?" he asked, a hint of menace in his voice.
There'd been a smattering of laughter, but it quickly died down.
Cole stopped struggling in Gordo's bear hug and Gordo released him.
Dallin glared once more at Cole before looking down at the ground.
"All right. You made your point, Cole. Time to shut the hell up. I'll take a ride down to the distribution center myself today and scout the area out. We'll find out which option's the safest."
Heath turned things over to Mayor Nichols again.
"Come Sunday, we'll have a memorial for Sophie. Anyone who'd like to share anything at that time is welcome. Now, Josh has some updates."
Josh stood up from the table and addressed the crowd. He wore a clean white shirt tucked into his blue jeans and had on a pair of simple black-framed reading glasses. He was holding a steno notepad in his left hand. He tapped the table-top with the fingers of his right hand as he spoke. His voice was quiet and shy, and he kept glancing down to the notepad as he spoke. "Um. According to reports, the alphas we've been hearing about are organizing groups of grays and leading them in attacks in towns and cities. Authorities believe the alphas might have a partial immunity to the virus, and that's why they're able to move the way they do and even think some and communicate." Josh paused and coughed into his hand. "Couple other things. Um. Looks like we've got a new president. Jeanine Crosby, Secretary of the Interior. She was eighth in line to the presidency. Since all the others are dead … or infected … she's the new president." Josh coughed into his hand again. "That's it for this week."
The meeting broke up and Jules noticed Heath huddled up with Caleb and Josh and Dallin.
Cole and Gordo were headed in the general direction of Jules' picnic table. Cole was busy scolding Gordo. "Dammit, Gordo. What'd you go and do that for. I was t
his damn close to kicking his ass." Cole held his thumb and forefinger no more than an eighth of an inch apart to illustrate his point. "That damn close," he repeated.
Gordo smiled brightly at Jules and the others as they walked past. Jules returned his smile.
A few tables away, Garrett Nicholson sat with his trainees, Kathy and Luke. They were whispering intently to each other. Nicholson sat across from them, watching them closely, left forearm resting on the table, a coffee mug in his right hand.
"I can't imagine being out there with all the infected running around," Angela Conway suddenly mused aloud.
She turned to Jules. "Not sure how you do it."
Once again, Jules was struck by how effortlessly beautiful Angela Conway was.
Jules kept her response short. "The training I had helps."
"Heath says you can handle yourself," she said wistfully. "I wish I were that fortunate."
"Not so sure I'd call that fortunate," Jules told her. She wondered if Angela Conway was offering her friendship.
Addy interrupted them. "That's a beautiful charm bracelet you have," she said to Angela's daughter.
Bethany Conway turned her wrist to showcase the sterling silver bracelet. She was around eight as far as Jules could tell, cute as could be, obviously spoiled, and playfully mischievous. "This is my heart charm," she said, holding the charm by her fingers for everyone to see. "And this is my angel charm … and this one is my puppy charm. I'm getting a puppy for Christmas. And this is my Eiffel Tower charm … my family tree charm, and my 'I love my mom' charm.'"
She smiled brightly, self-satisfied when she was finished. "They're wonderful," Nikki said enthusiastically.
From what little Jules had seen of Nikki, she had an effervescent personality. She had cherubic cheeks, lively brown eyes, and a wide smile that never went away. She turned to Addy. "Let's go," she told her.
And they were off.
Jules noticed a soft breeze passing through the picnic area. Heath and Dallin stood under the old elm tree having a one-sided animated conversation. Heath was doing all the talking.
Josh approached their table. He'd removed his reading glasses and was holding the steno pad in his hand. "Hey," he said.
"Hello, Josh," Jules said.
"Um. I haven't had a chance to talk to you since last night," he said to her. He looked at Jules as if she were sitting alone. "I wanted you to know, Jules, I thought you were very brave last night."
Jules had never felt comfortable with compliments, but she did her best to come up with a smile. "Thank you, Josh," she told him. "Truth is, I felt on edge the whole time. I was reacting to what was going on around us."
He stared at Jules for several seconds, smiling sweetly, not moving a muscle. He had a face like a child's with flawlessly smooth skin. Jules returned his smile and his stare.
He suddenly broke out of his inertia. "We wouldn't have gotten out of there without you, Jules. I told Caleb that."
Jules didn't say anything. Josh nodded awkwardly and walked off.
Heath and Dallin were making their way to the table.
Angela Conway's facial expression remained stoic as ever as her husband approached.
He looked a bit puzzled. Jules assumed he was surprised to see them sitting together.
"You staying out of trouble?" Heath asked his daughter, a look of mock seriousness crossing his face.
"Of course, daddy," she said.
"Uh huh," he said, fighting back a smile.
"Listen Vandevelde, I'd like you to go with me down to St. George this afternoon and check out the Walmart Center down there. We can make that stop you asked about on the way."
"Okay," Jules told him. "That would work fine."
"Be gone long?" Angela Conway asked.
"No more than a couple hours," Heath said in his breezy drawl. "Should be back this afternoon."
"Okay," she said. "I guess we'll see you then."
"We'll see you then, daddy," his daughter chimed in.
Chapter 21
St. George
Heath took the Cherokee in case they had to go off-road. Jules let Heath drive. They were well-armed and Heath brought binoculars too. Jules felt on edge as they passed through Cedar City, but they managed to get through without incident. Everything was quiet.
Past Cedar, the freeway followed a downward slope into a desert valley. The Mohave again. There were times Jules could see her reflection in it as if it were a mirror.
Its countless fingers seemed to stretch everywhere into the southernmost regions of Utah. On their flanks, an expansive vista of red rock formations and distant brown mountains opened up in front of them. Sparse, rugged vegetation dotted the landscape.
Heath seemed to be assimilating the information Jules had fed him at Albrecht's house. His eyes were fixed on the road, but his face held an agitated, perplexed look.
After a while, he broke the silence. "Should be there in half an hour or so," he said casually.
"Good," she responded.
"Why would anyone want to set George Albrecht up as a serial killer?" he asked.
"I suspect he was convenient," Jules explained. "The sexual assault charge from his past, his traveling, his interest in calligraphy. And his living in Gideon too. Put it all together, it not only makes him a legitimate suspect, it makes him an easy target. Throw in a little DNA evidence at one of the crime scenes and you've got the perfect patsy.
"His use of calligraphy on the victims was meant to frame George Albrecht and to eventually lead us to Albrecht's door. It was also meant to lead us astray where constructing a profile was concerned … though it does offer us some insight into the real killer." Jules was presenting the information as she would have at an FBI meeting. "The unsub had to be disciplined. He also had to learn the art of calligraphy. That means he had to wait before he could kill. That's not always easy for a serial killer. It tells us he has incredible patience and will go to any lengths necessary to send us down the wrong path."
"Yeah. I suppose. But why would the killer leave all that evidence at George's, let us know he's still around? Doesn't make much sense."
"It would be a mistake to underestimate him, Heath. This killer is very intelligent. There's a reason he wants us to know he's alive and well. He likes to play games, and he likes to show off. And he'll keep trying to fool us."
Heath continued to look as if he'd swallowed something unpleasant. Jules thought he had yet to come to terms with the idea that someone in his town was a serial killer.
"There's something we need to consider," Jules started. She knew Heath Conway wouldn't like what she was about to say. "The Calligrapher planted evidence at Albrecht's, almost certainly in the past few days. But how did he do that? Access to Gideon is limited. There's only a handful of people who travel freely in Gideon. You control that. Those who have access to Gideon are the first people we should look at."
Heath turned and gave Jules a withering look. "Let's get one thing straight," he said tersely. "No one on my team is a serial killer."
"Probably not," she said. "But everyone is a suspect until they're cleared. Has to be that way. You know that, Heath. Someone had to have the opportunity to plant the evidence."
"I suppose that means I'm a suspect too," he countered.
Jules didn't consider Heath Conway much of a suspect. Heath was far too pleased with himself to fit the profile of a serial killer. "I've thought about it," she told him, as if she'd seriously considered it. "But you don't fit the profile."
After a moment, she added, "Too arrogant."
Conway stared bewilderingly at her. "What the hell?" he said. A small laugh trickled out from his gut, stilted at first, then he laughed full out.
After his laugh had died down, he said, "Never realized humor was part of your repertoire, Jules."
Jules smiled to herself. She needed Heath Conway to help her with the investigation. She couldn't afford to alienate him. He would know everyone in Gideon along with their history, and
that was important.
"The fact the Dali painting was taken from Mayor Nichols house could help us," she told him. "The unsub would have had to have been at the mayor's house at some point. That might help to eliminate some suspects for us."
"I wouldn't count on that," Heath told her. "The professor loves to entertain. He's also run for mayor twice. Lost the first time around. Won this last time. So, he's had a lot of people in his home during those campaigns. The point is, there aren't going to be but a handful of folks who haven't been in his home at one time or another, and he's had that Dali print for years. It's not exactly a secret."
She stared at the I-15 Freeway as it stretched out in front of them. They'd reached the desert floor.
"If it makes you happy, I'll give you a list of those with access to Gideon when we get back," he said. "We can go over it together."
"Sounds good," Jules told him. "The unsub could literally be anyone. He'll likely be someone who functions well in the community. He won't stand out. But there could be an incident or indicator from his past. A predictor."
"You really have to use that FBI lingo?" he asked. "Last time I checked, the FBI was defunct."
Jules gave him an exasperated look even though he wasn't looking at her. "If it makes you happy," she said.
"It does," he said cheerfully. "It really does. One other thing, Jules. Hate to wreck your well-thought-out theory, but anyone could have gotten into Gideon and planted that evidence. All they had to do was walk across the top of the dam at night and go through the van we've got parked there. Walk right into Gideon. No one would be the wiser."
While Jules had considered the river too difficult to cross, she hadn't really considered the dam. "Terrific," she said.
They drove in silence and Jules watched the bland desert terrain pass them by. She thought about Heath. She believed he was competent but worried he might be difficult to work with. She knew she could handle Dallin, but Heath was used to being the man in charge. And while Jules didn't see Heath as a likely suspect, she knew it would be best to keep her distance. She'd shared relevant details of the case with him but had kept a few to herself. She hadn't mentioned AJ to him yet. She wasn't sure why. She knew she’d have to tell him soon. She also hadn't mentioned her conversation with the Calligrapher. That was a detail she would keep to herself.
Apocalypse Journeys (Book 2): Finding AJ Page 16