Mortal Crimes 1

by Various Authors

  “Four years ago from maximum security.”

  “Christ.”

  After promising to check in again later, Jake signed off.

  Robbi had pulled the rental car under the portico of the Hyatt where Jake was waiting. He climbed behind the wheel, then drove around to a lot overlooking the lake and a playground. He parked and shut off the engine.

  Jake told her what Clark had said.

  Roberta rubbed her temple. Nothing he had said surprised her. She knew the man in her visions was capable of anything.

  A hundred feet in front of them, at the private beach of the hotel, the sounds of children carried to where they sat. From out of nowhere Robbi detected the sweet scent of watermelon and coconut. Then melodious humming filled her head. Joy enveloped her, a feeling of peace and innocence. Shimmering water cascaded over her arms. She felt the coolness of it, felt her body light and buoyant, felt smooth pebbles under the soles of her feet and spongy mud between her toes. A horse snorted. She saw trees, quivering aspen leaves. All around her the forest danced with speckled sunlight.

  A deadly calm clutched at Roberta’s heart.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  He listened to the splashing sounds and cautiously crept forward, avoiding twigs and pine cones in his stealthy advance to the pond. The horse, sensing his approach, whinnied and pranced nervously. A pair of shorts, T-shirt, and worn athletic shoes lay at the edge of the flat rock. The girl, humming, intent on her water acrobatics, was unaware of his presence or the horse’s agitation.

  He stopped between two fir trees and crouched down. He watched her. She was so beautiful. So much like Celia.

  She was in his pond. Everything had a purpose. Nothing was mere chance or coincidence. The sound of a helicopter over the ridge broke into his reverie. They were getting too close. He couldn’t stay here anymore. It was time to move, to find another mountain and start again. This time he would do it right. Tobie loved the mountain. She would want to live in the wilderness no matter where the mountain was.

  ________

  Jake felt Robbi’s fingernails dig into his wrist. He watched her staring trancelike through the windshield. Her body was beside him in the rented car, but her mind was somewhere else. There was nothing he could do but watch and wait.

  She sat stiff, gaze fixed straight ahead, then in a cracked voice she said, “Tobe…”

  She blinked, sighed heavily, seemed to visibly sag, then she was looking around frantically.

  “Let’s go,” she said abruptly.

  He started the car, turned to her. “Where?”

  “My parents’ place. I just saw my sister, Tobie.”

  It was late afternoon. With the summer tourist traffic it seemed to take them forever to go the eight miles from Incline Village to Kings Beach. They turned northwest toward Truckee.

  On the two-lane highway, Robbi reflected on the last vision. She had gone into Tobie’s mind, had felt her mood and experienced the sensory sensations around her, just as she had done all those years before when her brother was in the river, drowning. Her sister was the first person other than Ronnie that she had been able to link with this way. Why? What did it mean? Was her sister to be his next victim? Tobie, in the pond, had perceived no danger. But Roberta had.

  Ten minutes later they arrived at the house. Jake headed to the stable to see if Tobie’s horse was there.

  Roberta rushed inside.

  In her mother’s dark bedroom, Robbi used the diffused light from the open door to find her way to the large canopied bed.

  “Mom? Mom, are you asleep?” she whispered, forcing herself to speak calmly. “It’s Robbi.”

  “Hmmm? Oh, hello, darling,” she answered weakly, and started to sit up. “I was just napping.”

  “Mom, Jake and I have come to help you leave.”

  “Leave?” Lois matched her daughter’s hushed tone. “Leave for where?”

  “It doesn’t matter. We’re all in danger here. I don’t mean to scare you, but I want you to get up, dress, and pack a few things. We’re leaving as soon as Tobie gets back.”

  “Roberta, what’s going on?” Her eyes showed confusion.

  “I’ll explain later.”

  Her mother took her hand. “This isn’t one of your strange notions, is it?”

  “Later.”

  She quickly made her way back to the kitchen.

  Pomona stood at the sink, filling a copper tea kettle.

  “Pomona, have you seen my sister?”

  “She ride off like every other day,” the woman said without turning around.

  “Where’s Hanley?”

  The woman looked at her now, frowning. “Something not right?”

  “Hanley, have you seen him?” Her voice betrayed her impatience.

  “He out there someplace fooling ‘round.”

  Robbi crossed the room, flung open the back door, and ran toward the stable, calling both names. Jake was just leaving the stable. He shook his head.

  “Hanley!” She pulled up, pivoted uncertainly. She called out Hanley’s name again, her voice nearly a shriek.

  The caretaker stepped out of the tack room and quietly stood facing Robbi.

  “She hasn’t returned?” Robbi asked Hanley.

  “No, Miss.” He stared out toward the woods. “It’s not unusual for her to be gone a couple of hours.”

  “What’s going on here? Why aren’t my mother and father ready to leave? Where’s the gun I asked you to carry?” she asked.

  He shrugged, looking helpless.

  Roberta’s chest constricted. Why was he acting so strangely? What the hell was going on? Always so strong and virile, he now seemed old—old and feeble and evasive.

  “Did you call the sheriff?” she asked.

  The man continued to avoid her eyes.

  “Dammit, Hanley, did you?” she shouted.

  His gaze finally met hers. “No, Miss.”

  ________

  Eckker had worked his way around the pond until he was near enough to the horse to stroke it. The animal cast him uneasy glances, fidgeted. The girl was out of the pond and lying on her back on the large flat rock five yards from where he stood.

  Excitement pounded in his veins. He’d waited so long for this moment. Thought that it could never be. But everything was changed. He could do as he pleased now. No one could stop him. He’d have to do things differently. There wasn’t time to try to gain her trust. That would all come later when they were far away from here, on their own mountain.

  He moved around the horse and started toward her, no longer mindful of his footsteps. He had nearly reached the rock when she turned her head lazily and opened her eyes.

  Shock and terror registered on her face. She sprang upward like a jackknife, quick, yet uncertain what to do or where to go. She attempted to cover her nakedness with her hands.

  He advanced on her, saying nothing.

  She scooted backward on the rock and tried to make it to the pond. He reached out and grabbed her by the foot. She cried out.

  He bent, picked up her clothes, and held them out to her.

  She snatched them and held them in front of her.

  “Get dressed.”

  She quickly slipped the T-shirt over her head. He released her foot and she anxiously pulled her shorts on. When he reached for her again she tried to run. She fell on the rock, cried out when she scraped her knee, then she turned and lunged toward the water. He caught her, swung her around. His bandaged hand circled her throat. He squeezed, willing himself to go easy. He didn’t want to lose her after so long.

  “Shhh, shhh,” he crooned softly in her ear. “Don’t be afraid, Tobie. I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you.”

  She struggled, her arms and legs merely jerking in reflex now, then she collapsed.

  ________

  “Why?” Roberta asked, staring at the caretaker in disbelief.

  Hanley shook his head.

  In confusion she turned to look at Jake, who was moving he
r way. He covered half the distance, then suddenly it wasn’t Jake walking toward her, it was him, the killer. The look in his eyes induced sheer terror like she had never felt before.

  The massive, broad hand came toward her face and wound into her long hair. The other hand, wrapped in soiled, bloody strips of gauze, closed around her neck. Her breathing became labored, torturous. She heard harsh gasps and screams that came out mere squeaks.

  Robbi gripped Jake’s arm, struck numb by the horror of what she was seeing. The killer’s face pressed close to hers. His black eyes seared into hers, his foul breath made her sick as bright lights exploded before her eyes.

  Then he was gone.

  “He has her,” Robbi, filled with despair, whispered.

  Jake held her, a soothing hand in her hair, stroking.

  Her mother stood in her robe in the doorway to the kitchen. “Robbi, what is it? What’s happening? Someone tell me what’s going on here?”

  “Mama,” Robbi said, shaking all over. “Tobie’s in trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble? How do you know this?”

  “I know it. Just like I knew Ronnie was in trouble. I see it.”

  “Oh, darling…” Lois began sadly.

  “Don’t start that,” she said sharply to her mother. “You never believed me. I wasn’t crazy then. And I’m not crazy now.”

  Lois looked to Jake, questioning.

  “It’s true, Mrs. Paxton,” Jake said. “Believe her.”

  Roberta stormed into the house. In the kitchen she snatched the receiver off the wall and began to dial the number of the local sheriff. Hanley appeared. He pressed the lever, held his hand on it.

  Robbi turned on him, shaking with rage.

  “Calling the police won’t help,” Hanley said.

  Then Jake was there. “What do you mean?”

  “If he does have Tobie … he might kill her or … or let her die if he thinks…”

  “What?” Robbi said.

  “He won’t do nothing unless … unless…”

  “Unless what?” Robbi wanted to shake the words out of him.

  “Unless his back’s up against the wall. I made him promise he wouldn’t bother nobody here.” Hanley avoided her eyes. “I told him to stay clear of her. I threatened to turn him in if he did. I never dreamed … I—oh, Lord…” He shook his head ruefully, his gaze fell on Lois. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Paxton.”

  Lois laid a comforting hand on the caretaker’s arm. “Hanley, please, what is it?”

  Robbi felt a scream rising from deep inside. With it she felt fury, frustration, ineptness.

  “Who is this guy?” Jake asked.

  “He’s my grandson.”

  The room became deathly quiet.

  Robbi, disbelieving, recovered enough to turn back to the phone.

  “No, please,” Hanley pleaded. “First let me tell you about him—about us.”

  “Why should we believe you? You’re a liar. You told me you had no idea where your grandson was.” She punched buttons on the phone.

  Jake stepped up to her. He took her by the shoulders and said, “Robbi, let’s listen to him.”

  “There’s no time,” she said.

  “We can’t afford to go off half-cocked. Hanley knows him. We have to trust him.”

  She clenched the receiver, wanting to smash it down, wanting to scream and pound her fists against the caretaker’s chest. Instead, she inhaled deeply and slowly hung it up.

  Jake put an arm around her. “Let’s all go into the other room and sit down.”

  They started out of the kitchen to the front of the house. Hanley moved ahead. “No, not in there. This way. I can talk while I get ready.”

  Lois, Jake, and Roberta followed him into the large open room that was her father’s den and gun room.

  Hanley went to an oak case, removed a key ring from his belt loop, unlocked the drawer. After a moment’s deliberation, he choose a snubnose .38.

  “Joe—that’s his name, Joseph Eckker—is my daughter’s son. Jennifer was fast and wild. She ran off in her teens, went to San Francisco. We lost track of her then. It wasn’t till we learned she’d been killed by some crazy, outta-his-head junkie that we even knew we had a grandson. There was nothin’ to do but take him in … him being kin.

  “He was eight. Emma and me thought we had another chance to raise one right. Guess God didn’t agree. Joe was already too tainted. Stealin’, fightin’, and the likes.” Hanley went to a drawer in the tall rifle cabinet, unlocked it, and removed a box of shells. “And he was having these fits, epilepsy, I guess. Any fool could see the boy’d been mistreated.”

  As he talked he carefully slipped a cartridge into each hole of the cylinder. “Emma took him to church every Sunday and I showed him how to live off the land. For a city kid, he sure took to the woods.” He popped open the snaps on his western shirt, slipped the gun inside, under his belt, then closed the shirt. The gun was undetectable.

  “Then he got into a little scrap with the law and…” The words trailed off.

  “He was arrested,” Jake said. “For what?”

  Hanley looked as if he would not answer.

  “I can find out, Mr. Gates.” Jake made a move to reach for the phone. “A few phone calls.”

  “When he was sixteen he took a fancy to a little neighbor gal and … when she wouldn’t have nothin’ to do with him, he … well, he forced himself on her.”

  “He went to prison for rape?”

  Hanley looked away. “Attempted rape and assault.”

  “What aren’t you telling us?” Jake said.

  “This ain’t easy for me, Doctor.” Hanley cleared his throat. “Joe spent eighteen months in what they used to call a reform school. A month after he come home, that little gal just disappeared. Some said she run off, some said Joe got even. They never could pin anything on him, though they sure as hell tried.”

  “What’s your opinion?” Jake asked.

  “He’s my grandson. Dr. Reynolds. I hafta give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  “What landed him in prison?”

  “Same thing. Another gal. He don’t mean to hurt them. It’s just that he gets disheartened when they don’t take to him like he does to them. He don’t know his own strength. And he’s got a real short fuse.”

  “So for years you’ve hidden him somewhere in these mountains?” Jake asked, incredulous.

  “He gets around. Has his own truck. Earns money cutting trees and selling cords of firewood. He loves the woods. He’s a loner. Never liked being around a lot of people. I figured it wouldn’t hurt nothing.” He looked at Robbi and her mother.

  “Where is he?” Jake asked.

  “I can’t tell you—for Tobie’s own good,” Hanley said. “You go marching in on him and he’s gonna get mad. I know him, I know what he can do.”

  “So do I,” Robbi whispered.

  “I gotta be the one to go. He trusts me. I can find out what he’s done with Tobie, and then I can talk to him, reason with him. He respects me. And he knows I can turn him in to the law. But the important thing is finding out where she is. If he gets killed first, we may never find her.”

  “A church,” Robbi interjected, “does he have anything to do with a church?”

  “That’s enough questions,” Hanley said, picking up a skinning knife in a leather sheath, then discarding it.

  Robbi stopped him. “Hanley, Tobie’s so young and trusting … if it comes to blood relation over—”

  Anger flashed in his eyes, then disappeared. “I’ve known Tobie since she was just a pup. She’s like one of my own. She’s closer than my own. Don’t insult me, Roberta.”

  Insult him? Robbi wanted to strike out at the man who’d allowed this evil monster to practically live with them. But hysterics wouldn’t do anyone any good. She bit her lip, looked away, nodded.

  Lois Paxton stepped in front of him and spoke for the first time since the scene in the kitchen. “Hanley, what if you don’t come back? How will we
find him?”

  He picked up the Browning semi-automatic 12-gauge shotgun and a full box of shells. “I’ll be back.”

  “Wait a minute,” Jake said. “You’ve got two hours, then we’re calling the police.”

  Hanley paused, nodded. Then he was gone.

  ________

  On the flat rock he squatted on his haunches, brushed the hair from her face, and looked at her curiously.

  Her skin was smooth, flawless, the color of a ripe apricot. Beneath the damp shirt he could make out her thin form. The calves of her long legs were covered with a fine fuzz.

  So unspoiled, he thought, quelling the excitement building inside him. She was young enough to mold to his way. The others had been too set in their ways—too worldly.

  He lifted her, carried her to the horse and draped her forward across the saddle. Swatches of bright blood stood out on her throat and on the back of her T-shirt. He looked at his left hand and saw his own blood saturating the edge of the gauze bandage. Thinking about the missing digits turned his mood ugly again. Roberta Paxton would pay for that.

  He led the horse in the direction of his sanctuary.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Hanley pulled off the logging road and parked his pickup behind a thicket of manzanita. He shut off the engine, grabbed the Browning, got out, and headed up the mountain on foot. Storm clouds were amassing to the south. A slight breeze rustled the collar of his shirt.

  Thirty minutes later, only slightly winded from the long climb, he reached the pond, skirted around the west end, found the trail, and followed it. Another half hour and he neared the clearing. He quieted his steps.

  From the tree line Hanley squinted and stared off in the direction of the wooden structure. Tethered to a quaking aspen was Tobie’s black horse. Hanley felt a twisting in his gut.

  Staying within the cover of the trees, he made his way to the horse. Prince whinnied, tossed his head at the man’s furtive approach. Hanley patted his neck, spoke softly to quiet him. The horse recognized him, nuzzled his shoulder affectionately. “Good fella, good fella,” he whispered, stroking Prince’s coarse mane. The mane was wet and sticky with drying blood.

  Hanley stared at the dilapidated church, the only remaining structure of a tiny logging settlement abandoned at the turn of the century. In a full chokeberry bush at the base of the tree he hid the shotgun. He patted the horse, spit a stream of tobacco juice into the bushes, then started for the ruins, his hand touching the metal bulge at his waist. A scraping sound reached him as he neared the building. Surreptitiously, Hanley circled until he found the source. At the rear of the church the massive, sweaty back of his grandson, bent to his task of digging, presented itself to him. Shovelfuls of dirt formed at his knees. The hole was five feet long and, at this point, no more than a foot deep. Sweat trickled down Hanley’s sides. He carefully drew back, then continued to the far end of the building. He lifted the trapdoor and quickly went down the steps, closing the door behind him.