by Jay Allisan
“Tell me about him,” said Dixon.
“He was nervous, but I’d bet there’s more than that. Definitely antisocial behavior. Submissive, at least at first. But I lost control of the situation, and he shot me.”
“I should’ve pegged him,” Paddy said bitterly. “I was talking to that bastard, I should’ve—”
“Don’t go down that road,” Dixon said. “We need to keep moving forward.”
“You must have pulled files on him last night,” I said. “What’s his story?”
“Carl was removed from his mother’s care at a young age,” said Dixon. “He stayed in the foster system until he aged out, never living with any one family for more than two years. He was a loner, aside from high school theater. He also excelled in computer science.”
“What about the bombs?” I asked. “How does he know how to do that?”
“Internet, probably,” Paddy muttered. “Anybody can do that shit these days.”
“He’s dangerous,” Max said. “He’s comfortable with fire and explosives, and he’s versatile.”
“But he’s hamstrung now, right?” I asked. “If he can’t go home…”
“We didn’t find explosive materials in his home,” Dixon said. “He must store them elsewhere.”
“Or maybe he’s out. Maybe Maria’s mom was the last target.”
Dixon took his glasses off and kneaded his forehead. “No,” he said wearily. “He isn’t finished yet.”
Max stiffened. “What? What is it?”
“Max…”
“What did you find?!”
Dixon closed his eyes. Josie let out a muffled sob and Whale put a hand on her shoulder.
“We found the girls,” Dixon said. “I’m sorry, Max. They didn’t make it.”
Time was suspended with Max’s breath, and then he whispered, “Kimmie?”
“I’m sorry.”
Max shook his head slowly, in disbelief, then faster, faster, until at last he slammed his fist into the mattress, his face wet with tears. I put my hand on his knee and he seized it, squeezed it numb. His voice trembled. “How do you know he’s not finished?”
“There’s room for more.”
“Fucking sick,” Paddy muttered.
Dixon held up a hand. “We need to get you and Shirley off the grid. We’re going to move you to a safe house until Carl’s been apprehended.”
Max slid off the bed. “What about Maria?”
“She’s safe. She was moved last night.”
“Where?”
“To an undisclosed location. You’ll see her soon enough.”
“He’s going to try again,” I said. “Carl.”
Dixon nodded. “We’re anticipating that. Units all over the city are on high alert. When he makes his move we’ll be ready.”
Dixon rose from his chair and exited the room. Paddy followed on his heels. Josie came forward and gave me an effusive hug.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered. “It was a long night, Shirley. You don’t even know. But I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Whale smiled at me grimly. “Carl Winters has a lot to answer for. He’ll get what he deserves.”
“Thanks, guys.”
They left, closing the door behind them. Max raked a hand through his hair and shook his head. He brought me a pile of clothing from the dresser. Yesterday’s outfit, minus an item.
“Where’s my shirt?” I asked.
“The nurses threw it away. It was really… it was ruined.”
“So I’m supposed to hide out in my underwear?”
“Here.” Max unbuttoned his shirt and offered it to me. “Or you can have my t-shirt if you want.”
“This is good. Nothing to pull over my head.”
He helped me into it anyway, tucking in the front and rolling the sleeves. His scent lingered on the fabric.
When I’d finished dressing Max brought me my shoes.
“Let me,” he said quietly, so I put my foot in his lap and he tied the laces tight, a double knot. I could feel his apprehension like a change in the weather, but his fingers never fumbled. He had steady hands. The hands of a bomb technician.
I took his hands and pressed them to my lips. He sighed.
“I wish it was later,” he whispered. “I wish Carl was in custody and this was over.”
“You wish you were out there, don’t you? Doing something instead of waiting.”
“Yeah.”
“Me too.” I squeezed his hands, using him as leverage to get off the bed. “Maria’s waiting too, you know. Waiting for you.”
“Yeah,” Max said with a melancholy smile. He didn’t move towards the door. “Shirley?”
“What is it, Max?”
“I just want you to know that I love you.”
“Of course I know that.”
“And you know I only want to protect you.”
“Max…”
“Shirley, if something goes wrong and Carl gets in—”
“Don’t ask me to hide under the bed.”
He grimaced. “I was going to say in the bathtub. It’s safer.”
“And leave you alone? No way.”
“I wouldn’t be alone. I’d have Dixon and Paddy—”
“And so would I.” I kissed him, and he held me so tight. “We’ll be safe, Max. There’ll be a dozen cops with assault rifles between us and Carl. He won’t get near me.”
“But if he does—”
“Bathtub’s out of the question. I’m supposed to keep my stitches dry.”
“Shirley…”
“I love you too, Max. We’re going to be fine. Now let’s go.”
30
WE WERE transported in separate vehicles, Max with Dixon and me with Paddy. We would leave ten minutes apart and take separate routes, each followed by backup in an unmarked car. Paddy and I left first in a cruiser, heading south. A couple of uniforms trailed us three car lengths back.
Paddy tossed me a bottle of Tylenol. “For your head. You should sleep on the way over. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”
I put the bottle in the cupholder. “I feel fine.”
“You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”
“I am taking it easy. My head doesn’t even hurt.”
“You nauseous?”
“No.”
“Dizzy?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Are you my doctor?”
“Just asking.”
I popped a pill to make him happy. “Any sign of Carl at the safe house?”
“Not yet. Lieutenant Patel’s with Maria, and he’s checking in with Shapiro every half hour via phone. Nothing’s going over the radios. We got plainclothes police stashed all over the neighborhood, bomb squad sweeping the building on the regular, and SWAT ready to roll at a second’s notice. We also got pizza coming in fifteen minutes to feed all those people.”
“Antonio’s?”
“You got it.”
We stopped at a light. Paddy’s thumb beat a heavy rhythm against the steering wheel.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” I said. “What else did you find?”
The light turned green and Paddy eased the accelerator down. His jaw tightened. “Dixon doesn’t want Max to know til this is over.”
“What?”
“The way we found the girls… for one thing they were strangled to death. Marks still showing around their necks.”
“But some of those girls have been missing for a long time. Was he keeping them alive?”
Paddy laughed once, harsh. “He was keeping them all right, keeping them the way he liked them.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Shirley, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d take your concussion over what I saw last night. This guy is something else.”
I had one eye on the mirrors, watching for a tail. Our backup was now two cars behind us and one lane over. I glanced at Paddy. His gaze was fixed straight
ahead.
“He’s got a run-down bungalow over in Highlands district. Weedy lawn, sagging fence, you get the picture. Front door’s unlocked and we go in. It smells like disinfectant and it’s cold. Front room’s clear. Kitchen’s in the back and I go to the fridge, ‘cause with psychos you never know. Nothing in the fridge but cans of ravioli. Bathroom’s next, all white tile, and the bleach smell is really strong in there. Then we go to the bedroom. He’s got a mattress laying on the floor, that’s it. Closet’s nothing but clothes. So we go to the basement.”
Paddy slammed on the brakes as a pickup cut in front of him. He laid on the horn and flashed his lights, and the pickup pulled over. Paddy roared past with a one-finger salute.
“What happened in the basement?” I asked.
“Fuck.” The steering wheel groaned beneath his grip. “We knew right away that was it. The door’s fucking steel-plated, with half a dozen deadbolts and the hinges on the inside. We tear a hole in the drywall, and Josie goes through and opens the door from inside. We go in, and it’s like the temperature dropped another twenty degrees. We’re working from flashlights ‘cause it’s pitch black, and I don’t know who got there first but we all saw it, and Josie screamed. The girl was sitting up in bed, staring right at us. Josie runs over but the girl doesn’t move. We all knew she was dead. Her eyes were glued open and her mouth glued shut. Then we saw the others.
“There were half a dozen beds in the basement, lined up against the wall. The other missing girls were to the left, and the two beds on the right were empty. Even counting Maria that’s five, so we knew he wasn’t finished.”
“Was it Kimmie?” I asked quietly. “The girl with her eyes open?”
“Yeah. The other girls were posed too, like little dolls. The first one, Emily, she just looked asleep, curled up under the blankets. Nadine had a bar of soap in her mouth with her eyes open too, and Megan was beside the bed, on her knees like she was praying. All of them were in matching nightgowns and they all had a ring of bruises around their necks.”
“Were they assaulted? Sexually?”
“Doesn’t look like it, but I’d bet money he got off on what he did to them. That bastard’s fucking sick. Couple of Highlands detectives pulled files on him, on what landed him in foster care in the first place. Turns out he had a little sister, and guess what happened to her.”
“Strangled?”
“Yep. The mom was still rocking her when Child Services came.”
“You think he watched it?”
“I think he did it.” Paddy shook his head. “Jesus, it was a hell of a night. I couldn’t have slept if I’d wanted to.”
“I’ll buy your beer tonight,” I said. “I’ll buy everyone’s beer if we get him today.”
Paddy shifted in his seat. “You mean we as in the force, right?”
“Right.”
“‘Cause you know you’re not seeing any more action on this, right?”
“Right.”
“Bullshit.”
“You wait until a police officer tries to kill you in your own office, and then we’ll see how you feel about exacting a little revenge.”
“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that. Your gun’s in evidence anyway, so you don’t have a choice.”
We crested the freeway and Paddy signaled for the exit. He handed me his cell phone. “We’re almost there, but we gotta get the all clear before I bring you in. Text the number at the top of the screen and say ‘2904 on approach.’ They’ll text back ‘clear skies’ if it’s safe.”
I sent the message, holding the phone in my lap as I waited for the reply. Paddy glanced at me, then cleared his throat. “Hey, listen. About yesterday. What you were saying at the hospital…”
I huffed a laugh. “You mean what I was screaming in the throes of a panic attack?”
“It’s none of my business and I’m not gonna ask, but… well, I’m sorry. For your loss. And for what it’s worth I think you’d be just fine as a mom. If that’s what you wanted.”
“Thanks. We’re, uh, we’re going to try. Max is pretty excited.”
“Looks like you are too.”
“What?”
“You’re smiling.”
I was smiling, and the realization only made me smile more. Paddy gave me a half-grin back before sobering. “You get a message yet?”
I checked his phone. “No. Who’s your contact on the other side?”
“Sergeant Powell on SWAT. He should’ve messaged by now. Let me see.”
“Maybe you should pull over.”
“I’m not stopping this car til we get to the safe house.”
He slowed though, crawling along a side street within sight of a fleet of hotels. His phone chirped as I was handing it back. “Hang on,” I said. “It’s… oh, shit.”
“What?”
“It says ABORT.”
“Shit.” Paddy snatched the phone out of my hand and laid into the accelerator. The car jumped forward as he pressed the phone to his ear. “Hang tight. We gotta turn back.”
“What’s going on?”
“Something’s wrong.”
“Yeah, I got that part. What—”
The car radio crackled to life.
“Attention all units, shots fired at the Bluebird Hotel. 207 in progress. Suspect is fleeing west in a blue Antonio’s Pizza delivery van. Be advised, suspect is armed. Attention all units…”
I stared at the radio as the bulletin repeated, knowing in my gut before I registered the facts. 207 was a kidnapping, and the Bluebird was only two streets over. It was Carl. Carl had gotten Maria.
And was fleeing in a pizza delivery van.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “We always use Antonio’s Pizza for stakeouts or safe houses. He would have known. He could have just waited for the order to come in and—”
The blue delivery van came flying around a corner and hurtled past us down the street.
“Paddy—”
He shook his head once, holding course.
“Paddy, turn the car around!”
“I gotta keep you safe, Shirley. We’re not—”
“We’re going!” I snatched up the handset. “Dispatch, this is unit 2904. We are in pursuit of the suspect, heading west on Argyle.”
“Copy, 2904.”
“Dammit, Shirley!”
“If he’s got Maria I’m not a target anymore. Go after him!”
Paddy swore under his breath but flipped a U-turn. We roared after the delivery van.
“2904, do you have a visual on the child?”
“Negative,” I said. “The windows are blacked out.”
Up ahead the van raced through an intersection, catching the yellow light. Paddy hit the sirens and we flew through the red, swinging wide around a pedestrian who’d started to cross. The van turned right.
“Suspect is northbound on Cameron Boulevard,” I said.
Paddy cut the corner hard, jumping the curb. The van forced its way through traffic, vehicles parting in a bray of horns. Paddy followed in its wake. We were catching up.
The van went right.
“He’s taking the exit onto Wilshire,” I said. “Suspect is heading west on Wilshire.”
“He’s taking her home!” Paddy yelled. “He’ll take the bridge!”
“Dispatch, we need the Highlands Bridge closed off!”
“Copy, 2904. Units moving into position.”
Paddy floored the gas and then we were right behind the van. I switched from the radio to the loudspeaker.
“This is the police! Pull your vehicle to the side of the road and turn off the engine!”
He didn’t.
“Carl Winters! Pull your vehicle to the side of the road!”
“He’s not gonna listen,” Paddy said.
“Get even with him. I’ll try to look inside.”
Paddy pulled beside the van. I pressed my face against the window, straining to see Maria. All I could see was Carl, done up in curly orange hair and a double chin, hun
ched maniacally over the steering wheel. He looked at me, his face twisting in disgust. He slammed the van into our cruiser.
Paddy jerked the wheel. “Fuck! You okay?”
“I’m good! Hit him back!”
Paddy eased off the gas instead. “I’m gonna let him run. We’re almost there.”
Carl took a sharp left, cutting in front of us and just missing a truck coming from the other direction. Paddy had to hit the brakes to keep from colliding with a second truck. We crept through the intersection, then surged again after Carl.
The Highlands Bridge loomed up ahead, red and blue flashing from the far side. Cars were backed up halfway across the bridge, clogging the roadway. The van accelerated.
Paddy yelled, “He’s gonna try and run the blockade!”
Carl plowed down the middle of the road, smashing cars out of the way. He slammed into a box truck and the van crumpled like a soda can. The engine died. Paddy stopped the cruiser at the east end of the bridge.
He threw open his door. “Stay in the car. I’ll send someone to get you out of here.”
“Like hell I’m—”
“Shirley, stay in the goddamn car!”
He moved toward the van, gun drawn. I popped the trunk and hurried around back to unlock the cruiser’s loaded rifle. I gave it a quick check and started after my partner.
A ringing from the car stopped me.
I turned back. Paddy’s cell phone was on the front seat. I looked at Paddy, still advancing, yelling at civilians to get off the bridge. No movement from the van. I ducked inside the car and answered the phone.
“This is Detective Mordecai.”
“Tell them to move.”
“Carl.”
“Tell them to move or they’re all dead. Tell them to move or they’re all going to die!”
“Carl, you’ve got nowhere to go. Step out of the van with your hands in the air.”
“Tell them to move. I’ve got a bomb.”
I GRABBED the radio. “Dispatch, this is Detective Mordecai. I’ve got Carl Winters on the phone and he says he’s got a bomb. Requesting immediate support. We need Highlands to evacuate the bridge, but nobody moves on the van. Do you copy?”
“Copy, Detective Mordecai.”
I burst out of the car. “Paddy! Paddy, 10-79! Do not engage!”
Paddy froze less than a dozen yards from the van and slowly backed away. I put the cell phone to my ear. “What do you want, Carl?”