“Could you? It might be a mutilation or death involving a naked corpse,”Streeter suggested, thinking of the photograph of “The Bather” that Jonah had hung on his bedroom wall just after the one of Jonah’s sister.
“Anything else?” Kelleher asked.
Tuygen paused. “Nothing of real significance other than he worked during high school and college to put himself through school. He was a tour guide at the Salvador Dalí Museum, a block from where he lived, and in the summer of his senior year in college, he won the Salvador Dalí look-alike contest.”
Kelleher closed the phone after thanking Jon Tuygen and telling him what an excellent, thorough job he’d done in such a short time. Streeter was lost in thought about Jonah Bravo’s fascination with Salvador Dalí.
“Look, there’s the mine,” Kelleher said, pointing to his right just as Streeter pulled off the highway and alongside Andy Doughty’s car.
“GET OUT,” BARKED DR. JAY
I looked to the east, out over the highwall to the foothills rolling into long stretches of prairie beyond. The Rocky Mountains were behind us, the piñon grove to our left. I knew every nook and cranny in this quarry like the back of my hand. As they say in tennis, “my ad, butt wipe.”
The door of his truck creaked as I pushed it open and stepped out, feeling stronger with the limestone ledge as my foundation. Familiar ground. I heard his door creak open as well and watched as my captor walked around the back of the truck and opened the window of the topper. I took the opportunity to retrieve the screwdriver from my panties and slid it up the right sleeve of my shirt, practicing once as I bent my wrist, allowing it to drop into the palm of my hand for quick use. I nearly dropped it, panicked as I considered what might have been if he heard it clank on the rocks, and pushed it back up my sleeve.
Dr. Jay rounded the truck and approached me carrying a folded white sheet.
“Undress,” he said, his voice mechanical, robotic.
I wondered where his arrogance had gone, his lilting accent, his exotic charm. I wondered if all that had been faked and this was the real Jonah Bravo. I glared at him through my swollen eyes, gently touching my broken nose and bloody lip with the fingers of my left hand. I knew my only chance to defeat him would be to render him useless, unconscious. Or kill him. If not, he was going to kill me. Or worse, kill someone in my family. He was a twisted bastard and I wasn’t about to leave anything to chance.
“Another demonstration of your inability to fantasize? Need the real thing because you’re incapable of imagining?”
He didn’t budge. His hands weren’t clenching into fists, his jaw muscles weren’t working overtime. He just stood there, staring at me. With dead eyes.
“Undress,” he repeated.
Maybe I’d been unconscious long enough to miss where the pod people had overtaken this otherwise emotional basket case and invaded his body. I tried again to push a button.
“Is this what ‘Figure on the Rocks’ is all about? Dalí getting his rocks off by making defenseless, helpless women strip in front of him on a quarry ledge?”
Nothing.
The air was still and hot. And thin. My breathing was heavy. Fear more than anything. Or maybe it was adrenaline, my wanting to use the screwdriver I felt against my right forearm.
“Undress or Ida dies,” he said, a smile playing around the corner of his mouth.
“Fuck you,” I replied, planting my feet shoulder-width apart and rolling onto the balls of my feet, ready to launch myself. “You’re nothing like Dalí. He was a sick fuck like you, but at least he had some balls. It took balls to be a controversial artist. You ... you’re nothing but an unimaginative dullard, incapable of anything besides bullying women, the weaker sex.”
He laughed. I had finally reached some emotional core within the robot. I was trying to stall, trying to prepare for my moment to maim him, hoping against hope he didn’t have a gun or a knife hidden beneath his shirt or tucked into his pants. Or under that stupid sheet.
I squinted, cocked my head. “What’s so funny?”
“You are anything but weak, Genevieve Liv Bergen,” he said, chuckling, taking a couple of steps toward me, and unfolding the sheet. “In fact, you might be more fun than Lisa Henry was.”
That got my blood boiling. I offered up a quick prayer for God to give me strength, and I dropped the screwdriver into my palm, lunged toward him, and stabbed at his heart. Jonah darted away, my screwdriver glancing off his left bicep, ripping skin and shirt along the way. Before I could reposition and take another stab, his right fist connected with my chin in a powerful uppercut, hurling me backward. I stumbled and fell. The gray was crowding my vision, but I’m pretty sure I saw an upside-down view of the prairie and blue skies.
And the bottom of the pit.
The sound of my screwdriver crashing against the rock floor thirty-five feet below confirmed my suspicions and I panicked. Shit, I was dangling upside down over the highwall, about to plummet to my death, my head being smashed like a melon against the floor of my own quarry.
I felt a yanking on my ankles and heard him grunt as Dr. Jay pulled me back onto the ledge. Rather than focusing on how closely I had just come to dying, all I could think about was if he had felt my keys through the leather of my boot.
“You stupid cow,” he said. “You nearly ruined my photo shoot.”
I lay on my back, eyes closed, trying to make the merry-go-round of stars in my eyes stop spinning, the ache of my teeth and jaw stop pounding in my head. I was going to be sick. Once the stars stopped spinning and I remembered to breathe, I started to feel all the sharp rocks against my back where I lay. I pushed myself up to a sitting position.
He was still there. Staring at me.
“For the last time, undress,” he said in a low voice.
I threw up my hands in surrender, staggering to my feet. We squared off as if in the gunfight at the O. K. Corral. Dr. Jay staring at me, me glaring at him. I had nothing left but the keys in my right sock, which apparently he hadn’t felt while he was pulling me off the highwall, sparing my life.
This crazy bastard really needs the photo more than he wants me dead, I thought. I slipped off my jacket and unbuttoned and removed my shirt, tossing them at his feet.
“How’s this going to work, Jonah?” I had resorted to using his real name rather than Dr. Jay, hoping to evoke the same outburst of anger and energy he exhibited in the car when I first used it. “Now that you’ve blackened my eyes, broken my nose, and split my lip,” I taunted.
I untied my boots, careful to bunch up my socks at my ankle to conceal the bulge of my keys. I pulled off my boots and threw them at him, one at a time. He grinned and arched an eyebrow.
I continued, “What kind of a model do I make for your photo, all bloodied and bruised, huh, smart guy? Have you thought of that?”
“I’ve thought of that,” he said. It worked. I got him talking again.
“And it’s ruined, isn’t it? The picture. Your perfect picture of ‘Figure on the Rocks,’” I challenged him.
His grin was unnerving, but at least he hadn’t asked me to take more clothing off. I was standing in my bra and stocking feet, my jeans the only real clothes I still had on.
“As you’ve already admitted, you don’t know ‘Figure on the Rocks,’” he said tauntingly. “If you did, you’d know her face is obscured, hidden.”
My stomach dropped. If I had had anything left to hurl, I would have, but my stomach was empty.
“You didn’t think of that, did you, you imbecile?” he jeered. “Now, get on with it. Take off the rest of your clothes.”
At least his voice was no longer frighteningly robotic. The cocky, narcissistic Dr. Jay was back. I had a chance. I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down over each leg, careful to block his view of the keys in my right sock.
“What are you going to do, rape me?” I spat.
He laughed again. Louder and longer. He was greatly enjoying this and I was happy for the delay. “I
wouldn’t soil myself for a beast like you.”
“Wouldn’t or couldn’t?” What the hell was I saying? I didn’t want to provoke him into raping me, did I? Or would that be my only chance to stab him in the jugular with the key?
Dad’s face popped into my head, showing me how to drive the tiny little bones in a person’s nose back into their brains with the heel of my hand if I ever got in trouble, pretending not to be imparting such a wise strategy to such a little girl when Mom rounded the corner from the kitchen. I didn’t forget, Dad.
“Did hell finally freeze over?The great Jonah Bravo is at a loss for words,”I said mockingly, deciding I’d rather take my chances with a rape for the opportunity for close proximity to this monster. “I repeat, wouldn’t or couldn’t?”
He blinked once, the eyes going dead again. “And I said get undressed.”
I tossed the jeans onto the heap of my clothes that lay at his feet.
“Everything,” he said.
I pulled off my left sock, then started pulling off my right one, but I pretended to hear a noise and looked up past Dr. Jay’s shoulder to the road cut in the rocks. He glanced over his left shoulder and as he did, I gripped the keys in my right fist.
He turned back toward me, eyes shooting daggers at me. At least they were no longer lifeless.
I stood and tossed the socks into the heap. “Thought I heard someone coming.”
“You wish.”
Lilt in his voice. It was hard to understand what made this man tick. One minute he had the lilt, the next his voice offered no inflection at all. Lively to lifeless.
I didn’t have anything on now except my bra and panties. My feet were blistering against the sun-beaten rocks. For the first time, I felt defeated. He wasn’t going to allow himself to get close to me again. I’d already proven I was not trustworthy. The blood trickling down his left sleeve brought a smile to my split lip. I was certainly a sight to behold. At least my family would be told by Agent Pierce that I had put up a fight.
I unclasped my bra and slid out of my panties, tossing both onto the heap. I stood up, straightening my spine and hiking my chin, offering up one final prayer, aloud.
“Thy will be done.”
“What did you say?”
“It’s an ejaculation.”
“A what?”
“A quick little prayer,” I explained. “The nuns taught me how to do that. How to ejaculate. Ejaculations are quick little prayers.”
He laughed again, tossing the sheet toward me. “You are such a strange creature. Now, put that on. Like a toga.”
I stared at the sheet.
“Didn’t the nuns teach you about togas?”
I wrapped the sheet around my chest, happy to be covering my body, shielding myself from the world, from the blistering sun, from his dead eyes. I tied the sheet over one shoulder and tucked the long key into position between the first and second finger of my hand, balling both fists so he’d think I was angry, not hiding something.
We did the O. K. Corral thing again, staring each other down until one flinched.
“Now lie down on the rocks. On your back, head pointed toward me.”
His words, lifeless.
“THE QUARRY’S RIGHT THROUGH that cut, straight ahead on the road,” Andy Doughty said, pointing at the crest in the hill.
Streeter assessed the landscape. An industrial plant on the left, offices on the right; both on the western side of the ridge, the quarry on the other side to the east.
“He’d be on the other side. In the quarry,” Doughty explained.
“Any way he’d know we’re here?” Kelleher asked.
Ray Martinez pulled up beside Streeter. Their cars were three abreast on the gravel road. Streeter rolled down his window so Martinez could hear.
Doughty shook his head. “No way. My brother works in that plant right there on weekday nights and he says he doesn’t even know if someone’s driving around out here unless he gets lucky and just happens to be standing in the right place at the right time when they drive in.”
“Are there people working there right now?” Streeter asked.
“Quarry, shop, and office are closed on weekends. But a few work at the pulverizing plant to produce 24/7. Probably three, maybe four guys. That’s where Jill Brannigan worked.”
Everyone nodded.
“So, if Jonah Bravo is in the quarry right now with Liv Bergen, there’s no way he would have seen us pull in here, know that we’re here?”
“Only if he’s crouched on top of that ridge somewhere, hiding in the rabbit brush and piñons. Not likely.”
“If we keep going on this road, will he see us?”Streeter pointed straight east, toward the road through the cut right in front of them.
“Probably so. If I were him and didn’t know much about this place, I’d have driven right over the top to be hidden from view from both the plant and the highway. He’d have the place all to himself.”
Brandt piped in. “There are some houses and ranch homes to the east, but Bravo would look like an ant to someone who looked from that distance. They’re way the heck out there on the prairie.”
“Is there another way in?" Streeter asked.
Andy Doughty nodded. “There’s a road they call the south cut. Just beyond that fuel station before you go through the cut. If you turn right, just past the fuel tank, there’s a road that’s about a half mile long on this side of the ridge. Then it cuts left, into the ridge, just like this road. It circles back along the lower edge of the quarry on the east side into this cut right in front of us.”
“Like a big race track,” Martinez said.
Doughty nodded.
“Martinez,” Streeter directed. “Go clear the guys out of the plant. Tell them to buy a cup of coffee somewhere.”
“There’s a café a couple of miles north of here,” Brandt said.
“Good,” Streeter said. “Then come back and hold the ambulance here at the entrance until we give the all clear. Any other road out of this quarry besides this one?”
Doughty and Brandt shook their heads.
Streeter turned to Martinez. “Then shoot the bastard if he tries to escape.”
Martinez grinned. “My pleasure, boss.”
“Doughty, you take Brandt down to the south cut and wait for my signal. You still have the two-way radio?”
Brandt lifted it up and nodded.
“Kelleher’s going to drive to the cut right in front of us, and I’m going to walk up that ridge and get a bird’s-eye view of what’s happening over there. You wait for my signal too.”
Kelleher nodded.
“This guy’s dangerous and out of control. Shoot first and ask questions later,” Streeter said. “Just don’t hurt Liv Bergen.”
Martinez drove up to the plant and gave Streeter a wave as he walked under the silos to the stairs. Doughty and Brandt drove slowly on the road west along the ridge to the south cut. Kelleher pulled up to the north cut and Streeter stepped out of the car, drawing his gun and scrambling up the ridge.
The ridge was steep and tall, higher than he first thought. He was sure Jonah Bravo hadn’t scaled the other side to watch for incoming visitors. It would be too much work. And Bravo was too lazy, Streeter thought.
Ten minutes later, just before reaching the crest of the ridge, Streeter looked back and saw Martinez escorting three other cars away from the plant. He saw the cars peel to the right and head for the café up the road. The ambulance pulled in, lights flashing, no sirens. Martinez flagged it down and pointed in Streeter’s direction.
Streeter crawled the rest of the way onto the ridgetop and perched on his belly overlooking the quarry to the east, peering through cactus and rabbit brush. His eyes landed on a rock ledge about a hundred yards southeast of his position.
His heart quickened. Liv was still alive.
Jonah Bravo was standing with his back to him, Liv Bergen facing him, wearing a sort of toga. Jonah’s pickup was parked nose to the east to the left
of the pair.
“I see them. You were right, Doughty. He drove through the north cut and took the first right he could find, out of sight,” Streeter whispered.
Streeter heard three clicks, acknowledgments from Kelleher, Martinez, and Brandt that they all got his message. The ridge was so high he couldn’t see Kelleher in the Jeep at the north cut or Doughty and Brandt’s car to the south. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the paramedics huddled around Martinez’s two-way.
“Kelleher, you’re about a hundred and fifty yards to the subject. When I give you the signal, go through the cut, take a sharp right, and drive a hundred yards. They’re on the edge of a rock ledge. Looks like they’re standing on a steep grade, maybe fifteen- or twenty-degree grade. The rock ledge drops off to the east about thirty or forty feet. Liv is backed up to the edge. No sudden moves, guys.”Three clicks.
Streeter’s gravelly voice was hushed as he continued. “Brandt and Doughty, you’re a long way from the target. I can’t tell if he could see you or not if you start driving around. What I’d rather you do is block that exit with your car, and Doughty, you start walking north, just past the cut on the east side. You’ll have a steep climb at first, but you’ll be above the target. Try to walk about a third of a mile. Don’t let him see you.”
One click.
“Brandt, you stay on the road. Walk the circle down beneath the quarry. Stay out of sight if you can manage. Don’t let him get by you by going downhill.”
One click.
“Martinez, stand by.”
One click.
“Once in position, Brandt and Doughty, no one move until I give the word.”
Streeter inched along the scratchy shrubs until he could see where he could crawl down the reclaimed slope of the mine, easing closer to where they stood. He needed to get closer if he were going to get off a clean shot.
He was within seventy yards when he saw Liv jerk to the left toward the pickup, Jonah Bravo sprinting after her.
“I SAID, LIE DOWN.”
Was he kidding?
Dr. Jay cradled a fancy camera in one hand; the other fished for something in his pocket. My mind flashed to the Dalí book, wondering if I saw anything depicting a woman in a toga on the rocks. Nothing came to me except the mangled distortions of his more bizarre work, the sick depictions of people like Jill. The water slicing through tissue and organs and bone. I remembered the truck, the mobile butcher shop. An idea flashed in my mind. We were both equidistant to the pickup. Both doors were still wide open. My view was straight through the body of the truck. His view was at an angle, closer to the back of the truck where he’d retrieved the sheet and the camera.
In the Belly of Jonah: A Liv Bergen Mystery Page 25