by D. V. Berkom
Gene mumbled, “Yeah.”
Peter clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks. I appreciate it. We'll do right by her, I promise.”
Gene rose to leave, his gaze drifted once again to the box. “What's in the box?”
Peter glanced at it and shrugged. “A gift from a fan of the show.”
***
Peter unlocked the back door leading to the kitchen, then closed it gently behind him. Careful not to make any noise, he crossed the floor, following the sound of the television to the living room.
Edward was asleep in the lounger, a glass of milk next to him on a tray table. The remote lay on the blanket in his lap. His facial expression held the trust and innocence of a toddler. Peter glanced at the pillow on the couch. Things would be so much easier if Edward wasn't around.
He took a step toward the couch, but thought better of it and continued through the living room to a small utility closet, which he opened with a key from his pocket. He hit the review button on the monitor and watched the previous day through to present time. No one came into or went out of the house. He'd scoured the grounds and the garage prior to coming inside. There was no body, no blood. He returned to the lounger and examined Edward for signs of anything that would tell him his brother had recently murdered someone.
There was nothing.
He walked over to the stairway and took two at a time to the second floor. None of the windows were broken. All were locked and secure. He went back down the stairs and sat on the edge of the couch.
What if it hadn't been Edward at all? He'd been operating on the assumption his brother committed the murders. This was the first time he'd even considered another possibility. Peter put his head in his hands. He'd made his brother a prisoner and it was distinctly possible he hadn't done anything wrong.
Except for the frozen ears. That wasn't exactly normal behavior. Peter shook his head to clear it. He'd just now considered getting rid of his own brother, permanently. What was happening to him? He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to breathe. He needed another drink.
A snuffle emanated from the lounger as Edward turned onto his side. He opened his eyes briefly and mumbled, “Hi, big brother,” before drifting back to sleep.
Peter stood and walked to the front door. Unlocking it, he went out through the porch, down the steps and over to the first set of shutters, unlocked them and threw them open. He did the same with the rest of the windows, throwing each one back with more force than the last. Back inside, sunlight streamed through the windows. Edward sat up, a puzzled look on his face.
“What are you doing, Peter?” His eyes widened and he sucked in a breath. “Can I go outside now?” Smiling, he got up off the lounger and ran to the door. He looked back at Peter as if to make sure it was okay. Peter nodded his head.
“Go ahead. You've been inside long enough.”
Edward laughed and bounded down the stairs, then dove head-first onto the front lawn and tried a couple of wonky somersaults. He lay on his back, his breathing heavy, and smiled up at the sky. Then he rolled onto his side and down the gently sloping hill to the driveway, giggling like a little kid.
If only he could be like this all the time, Peter thought to himself. The blackness would be back. It always came back. Especially if Peter couldn't find another job once they shut down the show. The meds were expensive. Maybe he'd talk to Dr. Shapiro, see if there was somewhere they could place Edward that wasn't too expensive or too far away.
Peter watched him for a couple of minutes more before getting in his car.
CHAPTER 28
LEINE WAS FINISHING her Spanish omelet at a nondescript diner in West Hollywood when her phone went off. She glanced at caller I.D. It was Gene.
“Hi, Gene.” Wary from their last encounter, she kept her voice neutral.
“We need to talk.”
“I'm in the middle of something right now. Can I call you back?” She didn't want Azazel listening in on their conversation.
“Yeah. Don't forget.”
Leine finished her breakfast and paid the cashier, then went out to her car. She'd picked up another disposable phone and called him from that.
“What's so important?” she asked.
“Where are you?”
“West Hollywood.”
“Meet me at the park in twenty minutes. By the slides.” He disconnected the call.
Leine checked her gun to make sure it was loaded and slipped it into her waistband. What was Gene up to now? She shifted the car into gear and headed for the park.
***
She beat him there and parked in the shade near the slides. The tablet lay on the seat next to her. So far, there'd been no response from Cory. She checked her email for the tenth time.
Still nothing.
Azazel hadn't called yet. Leine grew more nervous as the hours passed with no word on April. He was letting her sweat. She had to believe he wouldn't kill her until he had Leine.
The familiar melody of her smartphone broke into her thoughts. Leine checked to see if it was Azazel. Jensen's number appeared on the screen. She ignored the call. Maybe I'll be able to explain all this to him, someday. She imagined the scenario, took it to its natural conclusion.
Yeah, and he'll understand why you didn't trust him enough to tell him what was going on. She doubted he'd be willing to see it from her side. Experience told her men felt betrayed when you didn't ask for their help. She figured it'd be doubly true for a cop.
She got out of the car and walked to a vacant picnic table to wait, away from the mothers watching their children play on the Jungle Jim. The kid's shrieks of happiness brought her back to better times with Carlos and April. Stop, Leine. Don't go there. Not now.
Ten minutes later, Gene pulled alongside her car and got out. As he walked toward her, Leine searched his face for his intent and scanned his body for obvious bulges, indicating a weapon. The bags under his eyes were pronounced. He put his hands up.
“I'm unarmed.”
Still wary, Leine slid over to make room for him to sit.
“Tina's missing.”
“What happened?” Her stomach churned with the thought of the unanswered phone call the night before.
“She never showed up for the promo. You know Tina wouldn’t miss camera time.” Gene turned to look at Leine. “She's dead, isn't she? He's gonna kill all of them.”
“How do you know it's the same guy? You don't know she's dead, yet.” Not that she believed it, but it was always possible it could be someone else. L.A. was a big city.
“It's the same guy. Peter had a box on his desk. The writing was the same as what was on a box I got earlier. From him.” His shoulders slumped. “I was just trying to protect Brenda.”
Gene got one, too? What the hell was Azazel trying to do? “Brenda? I thought Ella came and got her? She'll be fine. She isn't with the show anymore.”
“There's more to it than that. A lot more.”
Leine stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“He contacted me. Right before I called you about the job.”
“Who? The killer? You mean you knew what he was going to do?”
“No, no it wasn't like that. He called me and told me he was watching Brenda—” A sob escaped him. Gene clamped his mouth shut, obviously struggling for control. A moment later he continued, his voice shaking. “He was gonna kill her unless I found a way to get you back to L.A.”
“Me? How—what are you saying? I came down here after he killed Mandy. You guys needed additional security.”
“He planned all that. I was supposed to suggest hiring you to Peter. If he didn't go for it, he was going to figure out something else. Jesus, Leine, I was so afraid. He told me where I was, all the time, like he had someone tailing me. He even knew who I talked to. Repeated my conversations back to me. When he threatened Brenda, I didn't know what else to do.” Tears streamed down his face and dripped off his chin onto his slacks. “I'm so sorry.”
“Where is he now?” Leine
grabbed onto Gene's shirt and pulled him to her so her face was less than an inch from his.
“I don't know. He only called me. I've never seen him.”
“Where's your phone?”
Gene looked confused. “My phone? It's in the car, why?”
Leine glanced at his wrist. He wasn't wearing a watch. Good. “It's probably bugged.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes. “Shit. So that's how he knew.”
“How did he get into the studio?”
“I-I left a key.”
“Did you know he was going to kill Mandy?”
Gene hesitated. “Yes. But he said he only needed one.”
“You knew he was going to murder Mandy and thought he'd just stop? How fucking stupid are you?” Leine let go of his shirt in disgust. She pushed herself off the table and started to pace.
“Look, I know I screwed up, Leine, but you gotta understand—”
Leine spun on her heel, covered the distance between them in two strides and grabbed Gene by the throat. Gene made a choking sound and grabbed at her hand, but she had an iron grip on him and wouldn't let go. She looked deep in his eyes, the rage from days of frustration reaching its boiling point.
“He has my daughter.” Her voice came out low and guttural.
Gene's face was turning red and his eyes had bugged out. She pushed him away.
He sucked in a breath and coughed, massaged his throat. “Jesus, Leine. I'm sorry. I-I didn't know she was in town. I thought you and April weren't getting along—”
Leine turned on him again, her fury not yet abated as she moved toward him. She reached behind her and pulled out her gun, keeping it concealed under her button down shirt, but allowing Gene to see it. He slid off the table and started to back away.
“Whoa, there, take it easy,” he said, putting a hand up. “Killing me won't help anything. Maybe—maybe I can help you find her.”
Leine stopped her advance, waiting for him to continue.
“I mean, he doesn't know I told you all of this, right? Maybe there's some way we can fix things—bring him out in the open.”
“Okay, say we manage that. How do I find April if we kill the son of a bitch?” One shot, Leine thought, her finger itching to pull the trigger. Just one—I know it'll make me feel better. Sense got the better of her and she relaxed her grip on the gun.
Gene frowned. “I hadn't thought of that. There's got to be something I can do to make up for this.”
“There might be, Gene.”
CHAPTER 29
SHE HEARD THE keys jingling well before the dark haired woman made her appearance. April tensed as she waited for her to open the door to the dungeon. She'd made a huge miscalculation before, trying to take out the psycho and wasted the only chance she'd had. Prepared for swift punishment, she'd been surprised when Azazel hadn't retaliated for the damage she'd done to his face. Finding the rusty knife blade stuck behind the wallboard trim had been a stroke of luck. April wondered who'd left it there and if they made it out alive.
The woman entered carrying a small tray. Lunch. The torture didn't end at being kept in a large, wire kennel. April couldn't wait to escape this hell-hole if only to eat something resembling a food source. Three times a day, she was subjected to a vile smelling green smoothie with the consistency of snot. The psycho waxed poetic about his own private concoction, extolling the virtues of wheatgrass, barley and algae, with just a hint of stevia for sweetening. The only barley April wanted to taste at that moment was a cold beer. She hadn't succumbed to her friend's reverence for eating a raw food diet, preferring a nice, juicy cheeseburger on occasion, along with a side of fries. She'd taken a lot of grief for her choices and thought it ironic she was now being force-fed the shit.
The dark-haired woman brought the tray with the plastic glass full of mossy green liquid and opened the small door on the upper half of the cage. April dutifully accepted it, itching to grab the woman by the neck, if only to lift the keys for the cage from her pocket. She always stood too far away.
“He's got a surprise for you today,” the woman said in a sing-song voice, and pulled out a cellophane wrapped object from her dress pocket. She unwrapped it and held the two-inch square lump of what looked like smashed brown seeds toward her.
When April hesitated, she stepped closer and said, “Go ahead and take it. They're really yummy. His special recipe.”
April brought her hand up and instead of lifting the unappetizing lump from her hand, grabbed hold of the woman's wrist and, catching her off-guard, yanked her off her feet, dragging her against the cage. At the same time, April's other hand shot out and covered her mouth, cutting short her screams. The woman scratched at April's fingers, but she held on tight.
Surprised by her own strength, she tightened her grip and growled in her ear, “Give me the key to the cage, now.”
The woman nodded her head and squeezed her eyes shut. The bitch tried to take a bite out of her palm, but April leaned back and bent the woman's arm at an awkward angle. She was rewarded with a soft whimper.
“If you don't do as I say, I'll break your arm.”
The woman nodded, slipping her free hand into her dress pocket. Before April could react, the woman plunged a hypodermic needle into her arm and delivered the full dose. April's grip loosened as she fought the dizziness. The last thing she saw was the smile on the woman's fuzzy face before her world turned black.
***
Jensen was pissed. He'd driven in circles searching for Leine, ending up at a dead end after he found one of her cars in the reality show's parking lot. When he checked with the security guard at the front of the building, he was told she'd taken time off to care for her aunt. That fit with the hospital visit, except her aunt was supposed to be in San Diego.
He'd woken up early that morning and walked out to the living room to check on her when he realized she'd left. No note, just gone. He'd gone back to the bedroom and pulled the plastic bag with the keychain out of the front pocket of his jeans. He was planning to bring it to his CO to book it as evidence in the unsolved murder cases. The only problem being, he'd have to tell his lieutenant how he'd come by it. He wasn't ready to do that, yet. If he did, he'd never live it down. He could hear him now, “You slept with a possible suspect in a cold murder case? Well, stupid, that's what you get for thinking with your little head.”
It was a given he wouldn't be able to talk to Leine, and he wanted, needed to hear her side of the story. The lieutenant would insist he not work the cold cases since he'd had a relationship with her and he'd be required to have no contact with her until they cleared her of the murders.
If they cleared her.
Jensen pushed the idea aside. There was an explanation, he was sure. His feelings for her had grown and he realized it was making him act out of character. He'd gone over it in his mind a dozen times. The effect she had on him defied explanation. It wasn't just sex. Even with Gina, it had been more lust than love. Jesus, he thought. This is dangerous, Santa. Love can make you stupid. He'd seen it a thousand times. Men would fall like a lead balloon for some woman and give everything up to be with them. At the time, Jensen thought they were idiots. He didn't this time.
And that scared the hell out of him.
Not once in his years on the force had his ethics been in question and he was proud of that. He realized withholding evidence, even for a brief time was a career-killer. If anyone found out, he'd be thrown out of RHD, put on patrol to finish out his days on the force. If he was lucky. He'd worked damned hard to get where he was. He could hear Putnam saying, “You're gonna throw it away for a friggin' broad? You're nuts, Santa.” Maybe he was.
He slid the bag with the keychain into the top drawer of his dresser.
He'd wait and talk to her first.
CHAPTER 30
AFTER GENE LEFT, Leine checked her email once more. This time, there was a return message from Cory. He remembered her and had been in contact with April off and on through the years. He asked wher
e she'd been as he hadn't seen any updates from her in a few days. Leine emailed back immediately, explaining she was concerned as well as she hadn't heard from her either, and included the new disposable phone's number. Within twenty minutes, the phone rang.
“Hi, Mrs. Basso. It's Cory.”
Leine's heart leapt to her throat.
“Hey Cory. Thanks for calling. I remembered April mentioning your name once or twice and took a chance you two were still in touch.”
“Yeah, but I haven't heard from her in a few days. According to her status update, she made it back from Amsterdam. I thought she told me you were in Seattle?”
Leine was surprised how happy it made her that April had mentioned her.
“I was, but I'm here now. What exactly did she put in her update?”
“That she was back in L.A. and looking to hook up with old friends. I sent her a message, but haven't heard back yet.” He paused for a minute and then continued. “If you don't mind my asking, aren't you and April, you know, don't you both kind of go your own ways?”
“We were working on getting to know each other better when she dropped off the radar. I became concerned when she didn't show for a dinner date we'd planned.”
“Yeah, she usually does what she says.”
Yet another aspect of her daughter Leine didn't know about. She filed it away.
”Have you called the cops yet?” he asked.
“No. I thought I'd try to track her down first, and if that didn't work, I'd call.”
“Have you checked GlobalPaws?”
“GlobalPaws. What's that?”
“A social tracking site. A bunch of us use it. The avatars are animal tracks. It's more accurate than most of the other tracking programs on the internet. It'll ping your location within a block of where you are. Sometimes it'll even get it right on. I figured with her going to Europe and all, you'd be one of her contacts.” Cory's voice trailed off.