“Silver car?” she asked.
“Yes, silver or light gray. Only problem is, the car only shows up in one small corner of the frame, not enough to get a plate number.”
“Make and model?”
“We’re working on that now. It’s a compact car, could be a small Toyota or Hyundai or something like that.”
“What about the tire tracks?” she asked. “Any help there?”
“Not really. We’ve identified the tires; they’re a brand that’s not normally put on new cars at the factory, but are available everywhere for sale.”
“Oh. So the only thing we can take from that is that it’s not a new car.”
“Right. It’s probably at least a year or two old, but that doesn’t narrow the field much.”
“Yeah.” She blew out a breath. “I was really hoping Sam had gotten some good clues there. Guess not.”
“Well, every little bit helps. We’ll just keep working on it, see what we can figure.” He paused. “Uh, any chance Sam picked up on anything last night?”
“No,” she said, realizing she hadn’t even thought about it. “Slept like a baby all night long.”
“Good news for him,” Tommy said with a laugh. “So, uh, you two are pretty tight, huh?”
Lacey grinned. “You could say that. Matter of fact, we’re getting married in April.”
“No shit?” Tommy said. “That’s terrific, Lacey. I’m glad for you.” He hesitated, as if hating to bring up the past. “You deserve it after all the crap you went through with Derrick. Sam seems like a good guy.”
“He is,” she said, ignoring the rest. “We’re getting married out on the Navajo reservation in Arizona, but we’re going to have a reception here in early May. I’ll let you guys know when we get the details nailed down.”
“Terrific. I’ll look forward to it. Is this a secret, or can I spread the word?”
Lacey laughed. “No secret. Spread away.”
“Okay, good. I can think of a few people who’ll be glad to hear it.”
“All right, Tommy. I’ll let you go. Keep us posted with anything new.”
“Will do, Lace. Talk to you later.”
She filled Sam in over dinner that evening. “So you were definitely right about the silver car,” she said.
“Yeah, but it’s not terribly helpful,” he allowed.
“Not yet, but I know they can zoom in and analyze the video. They should be able to get a fix on the make and model, maybe on the year, too.”
Sam nodded, poking at his salad thoughtfully.
“What are you thinking?” Lacey asked. She recognized the signs of his brain working overtime.
“That glove. A surgical glove that comes from a hospital supply. Who would buy from a hospital supply when rubber or latex gloves are available anywhere? If he’s wearing them just to keep from leaving prints, why not get the ones that are readily available? Why go all the way downtown for these?”
“I don’t know,” Lacey admitted. She hadn’t thought about that.
He stabbed at a cherry tomato with his fork, but it rolled sideways. He picked up his knife, speared the tomato with his fork and cut it in half.
The red juice spilled out onto his plate.
He stared at it.
“Cutting,” he said softly.
Lacey watched him closely. “What?”
“Cutting. The tool he uses to cut the bodies up. It’s not the knife he stabs them with.” Sam raised his eyes to Lacey. “They need to analyze the way the body is cut up, especially the bones. See if they can figure out what he’s using. How he’s doing it.”
“O-okay,” Lacey agreed. “You think there’s something there?”
“Yeah, I do.” He looked down at the bleeding tomato again. And pushed his salad plate away.
~~~
That night, they snuggled together in bed. It had been a restful day for Lacey, especially after the momentous day before, and she sighed contentedly.
“I called my folks today,” she said. “They’re going to book their flights. And I called my brother, too.”
“Good.” He rubbed her bare shoulder absently. “I need to call a few people.”
“Gabe and Roxanne? Ben?”
“Among others.” He paused. “I, uh, I’ve got an idea about rings.”
“Oh?” She tipped her face up to his.
“Yeah. I’d kinda like to surprise you, but then you might hate them.”
She chuckled. “I sincerely doubt that. Go ahead; surprise me.”
“Okay. But if you do hate them…”
“We’ll work it out. Now, what the heck are we going to wear? Jeans, or—”
Suddenly Sam sat upright in bed again. Remembering the last time, Lacey gripped his arm even as she rolled off him.
“What?” she asked, preparing for the worst. “Is he…?”
“He’s out… looking. He’s in a place. A bar. Looking.”
Sam stared sightlessly into the darkness. Lacey held her breath and kept still. How many times were they going to do this? She glanced at the clock. Almost midnight.
“He’s sitting at the far end of the bar. Checking the faces. The women. He’s got a drink, but barely sips it.”
Lacey’s mind scrambled. “Can you tell where it is? The name? The street?” If they could call the cops, get someone out there… She reached for her phone.
“There’s writing on the mirror behind the bar. Peach… Peach Tree. Is that a—a liquor? It’s not the name. An ad. A sign.” He fell silent, but Lacey could feel him reaching, reaching.
“What else?” she prompted softly.
Sam tensed abruptly. “Oh, no,” he moaned.
“Is it a girl?” Please say no.
“No. He’s leaving. He can… feel me. He’s leaving.”
“Leaving?” Lacey sat up and dialed Tommy. “Can you follow him? See where he’s going?”
“He’s panicking. Running. First one way, then another. A car wash, a movie theater…”
“What theater? Can you tell?”
“Hello?” Tommy’s voice.
“Tommy, Sam’s got him. He just left a bar. Sam’s following him.”
She held the phone closer to Sam.
“Can’t tell… He’s deliberately not looking at anything, not recognizing anything. He knows I’ll see… Keeping his head down. Walking fast.”
Lacey brought the phone back to her ear. “He was in a bar. The mirror behind the bar had a sign on it, Peach Tree. We don’t know where it is.”
“Stop light. Liquor store on the corner.”
“Can you read the name?” She held the phone so Tommy could hear Sam, but she could hear if Tommy said anything.
“Dell. Dell’s. Something Dell’s. He’s going. Not waiting for the light. He’s going up a side street, away from the business district.”
“Is he going home?” In the background on her phone, she could hear Tommy’s voice, but not talking to her. Talking to someone else.
“No, not home. Not with me watching him. Down an alley, into a residential area. No signs. Walking through bushes. Staying out of sight.”
“Tommy, did you get that? A liquor store called Dell’s. On a corner with a stop light.”
Tommy’s voice was still muffled, but she could hear him relaying the information.
“What’s he doing now?” she asked Sam.
“Hiding. Staying in the dark. Running from one dark place to another.”
“Tommy?” Lacey asked. “Are you hearing this?”
“Yes.” He was back on with her. “I’ve got a car on the way.”
“Okay, good. Sam, what’s he doing?”
“Screaming at me.”
“Screaming?”
“Not out loud. In his head. Screaming at me to go away. He’s running again. Hiding in bushes.”
“That liquor store,” Tommy said. “Red Dell’s?”
Lacey relayed the question to Sam.
“I don’t know. It’s gone. He’s pan
icking. Terrified of being caught. He never thought anyone would ever catch him.”
Lacey went back to Tommy. “You have a twenty on that liquor store?”
“Yeah. Wilshire and Lambert. That’s the only Dell’s I can find.”
Sam jerked convulsively.
“What?” she asked.
“He hears the siren. It’s coming closer.”
“Tommy, did you hear? He hears the siren.”
“Copy,” Tommy said. “Can he tell what direction it’s coming?”
“Sam, what direction is it from him? Which way is it coming?”
“From the west!” Sam’s breathing quickened. “Running. Crashing through bushes. Jumping a fence. There’s a dog barking. Jumping another fence…”
The words echoed away. Lacey and Tommy both waited. She watched Sam struggle, reaching for more, his brow creased, his mouth pulled into a grimace.
“What’s happening?” she asked finally.
Sam didn’t reply, didn’t move. The only sign of life was the shallow breathing. Lacey waited—tried to wait patiently, but the silence scared her.
“Sam?” she asked softly. She touched his shoulder.
“Gone,” he said.
“Gone? Gone where?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Just… gone. Not there.”
He tried again, tried to get it back. He rubbed his forehead, tilted his head to one side. Lacey thought of a radar dish trying to hone in on a signal.
“Nothing,” he said at last. “He’s gone. I don’t know why.” He rolled his shoulders and exhaled, letting the tension leave his body. “There’s just nothing there.”
Lacey brought the phone back to her ear. “Tommy?”
“Yeah, I heard. Do you know what that means? Is he dead? Did he climb inside a lead box or what?”
Lacey might have laughed at the Superman joke, but couldn’t muster the energy. “I don’t know,” she said. “This is all new territory for us. Sam’s never been able to get inside anyone’s head like this before, so we don’t know why it works sometimes and other times it doesn’t.” She sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Tommy didn’t respond right away. “All right,” he said finally, disappointment obvious in his voice. “I’ll, uh, just have a couple cars patrol the area for a while. Check out that bar near Dell’s. Maybe he’s a regular there.” He exhaled heavily. “We’re so close. Why can’t we get this guy?”
“We will,” Lacey said with as much confidence as she could manage. “We’ll get him.”
“Yeah,” Tommy agreed, but he didn’t sound convinced. “Okay, Lace, I’ll keep tabs on this. Anything else comes up for Sam…”
“I’ll call you. Goodnight, Tommy.”
~~~
THIRTEEN
Lacey’s eyes felt scratchy the next morning, and she was sure Sam’s were, too. At least they looked a little red. Neither of them had gotten good sleep.
The fact that they hadn’t heard any more from Tommy signaled that the police had not found the killer.
A bad night’s sleep followed by depressing news.
“I’ll call Tommy in a bit,” she said over coffee. “I want to tell him to check out the saw used to cut up the bodies.”
Sam nodded. “You know what else I was thinking?” He set down his cup. “Could they put plain clothes cops in some of these bars at night? Have them just hang out for a while? I think the guy likes to hunt late, midnight or later.”
His use of the word “hunt” sent a chill up Lacey’s spine. But it was apt.
“I’ll ask,” she said. “Not plain clothes; they still look like cops. But undercover guys don’t. Maybe they can bring some of the Vice guys in on it.”
“Whatever,” Sam said. “If we could ID this guy with someone in the same physical space, we could get him. I can’t always get the information we need.”
Lacey peered at him over her coffee cup. “Do you have any sense for why you pick up on him at some times but not others? It’s so weird. So hit or miss.”
“I was thinking about that last night,” he said. “I wonder if it has to do with heightened emotion. When he’s killing, or anticipating a meeting. I don’t know. That’s all I can come up with.”
“It kinda makes sense,” Lacey said. “I can’t imagine him broadcasting psychically when he’s just trimming his toenails.”
“No, although that would be nice. It wouldn’t slam me so hard, and maybe then I could get a fix on where he lives.”
Lacey reached out and touched his hand. “We’ll get him.”
But it couldn’t come soon enough.
~~~
She called Tommy later in the morning.
“No luck, huh?” she asked.
“No. Although we did find the bar, and the owner thought he recognized the guy from the sketch. Not a regular, but thought he’d seen him a few times.”
Lacey passed along Sam’s idea about posting undercover guys at some of the midtown watering holes.
“That’s possible,” Tommy said. “I’ll get with Vice, see if they can spare any of their guys. Like you say, it wouldn’t be for long, just a couple hours or so.”
“And if Sam gets a fix on him again, we might be lucky enough to have a guy close by.”
“That would be great,” Tommy said. “I was really hoping last night…”
“Me, too,” Lacey said. “Oh, something else. Sam thinks you should analyze the ways the bodies were cut up and find out what kind of instrument was used. He seemed to think that would provide some more information.”
Tommy didn’t reply right away, and Lacey imagined him jotting notes. “I’m sure that would have been a part of the autopsies, but I don’t recall reading about anything specific. I’ll check on that. Anything else?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay. I’ll get back to you.”
~~~
FOURTEEN
That weekend was mercifully quiet. Lacey worried about Sam getting caught up in Teddy/Eddie/Freddy’s maniacal emotions while the kids were with them, and what that kind of chaos might do to them. Luckily it seemed that the killer was lying low—or was dead. The lack of contact was heartening, but mystifying. What had happened to him that night? How was he able to simply turn off the contact with Sam?
Without really knowing why, neither Sam nor Lacey believed it was over.
When they took the kids home on Sunday, they sat down with Ed and Christine and told them about the wedding plans. Sam wanted the kids there, and the LaRosas agreed. For the umpteenth time, Lacey was so glad Sam’s ex was not the jealous, controlling type. Surprisingly, Ed even joked about making a family vacation out of it and visiting the Grand Canyon while they were at it.
The kids liked the sound of that.
So did Lacey. She liked the fact that so many people were willing to follow them out to the Navajo reservation, and she liked that it was turning into an adventure for many. God knows, her first time out on the res was certainly an adventure. This time, with any luck at all, would be a much more enjoyable experience. Just remembering her and Sam’s confrontation with a shapeshifting witch made her stomach turn over.
Sort of like the case they were on now.
~~~
Monday morning, Tommy called. He’d been busy and had a lot to report.
“We’ve managed a deal with Vice and have a couple undercover guys set to visit a few of the night spots,” he said to start.
“A deal?” she asked. “What, they couldn’t do their old teammate a favor?”
“Aw, you know.” She could hear the grin in his voice. “They had to yank my chain, remind me that I jumped ship for the ‘country club’ department of Homicide.”
“‘Country club,’” she snorted. “Yeah, like this is cushy duty, right? Digging body parts out of dumpsters?”
“Yeah. Not. Anyway, speaking of that, I’ve got the medical examiner’s report on the saw that cut up the bodies.”
“Great.” Lacey grabbed her notebook
and pen. “Shoot.”
“It’s most likely a surgical bone saw, a small handheld job. Definitely not what you’d find at Home Depot.”
Lacey jotted her notes, questions already forming in her mind. “Surgical bone saw, not readily available. Like the gloves. So… did he buy these things in preparation for his murders? Or did he already have them?”
“Good question,” Tommy said.
“And if he did buy them especially for what he had planned, again—why? Why not go to Home Depot? Why not buy gloves at the local pharmacy?”
As she spoke, something nagged at her. Something Sam had said.
“You know, a while back, I seem to remember Sam saying something about… this guy not setting out to do what he did. Not planning to do this. I’ll have to ask him. But if I’m remembering correctly, then he wouldn’t have made these special purchases because he wasn’t planning to kill anyone.”
“And if that’s true, then he already had the stuff.”
“Right, which means…”
She heard Tommy snap his fingers. “Hospital worker!”
“Exactly. Can you get a list of all employees at the surrounding hospitals? You’ll have to check at smaller clinics, too, anywhere they might do outpatient surgery.”
“Right.” He paused, no doubt scribbling notes.
“Look for any Teddys, Eddies, Freddys,” she reminded him. Another thought occurred to her. “If we find a likely candidate, we should check his attendance records. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he called in sick on a day directly following a murder. It might be hard for him to shift back into normal Joe Schmoe reality after cutting up a body.”
“Good idea. Got it. What else?”
Lacey huffed out a breath. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anything else right now. Can you?”
“No, not at the moment. I’ll start working on this hospital employee thing, but that’s gonna take some doing. There’re a lot of hospitals and we’re probably going to need warrants for most of them.”
“Yeah, I hear that,” Lacey said, remembering her days of police procedure. Lawful, of course, but often slow and frustrating. “And don’t forget, while you and your guys are checking the hospitals, to show the sketch around. Someone may recognize him.”
Blood Walk (A Lacey Fitzpatrick and Sam Firecloud Mystery Book 8) Page 7