Keeping Watch

by Jan Hambright

  “Yeah, so we need EMS in standby mode with the protocol, or it doesn’t matter how fast we get to her, she’ll die.”

  Hicks nodded. “I’ll brief the EMS director and we’ll inform the ambulance crews of the most likely medical emergency at any potential crime scenes.”

  Detective Lawton walked into the detective division, followed three minutes later by Chief Danbury, who went directly to the coffee bar.

  Nervous tension skated across the back of Royce’s neck. He stood up and walked over to Danbury.

  “Good morning, Chief.”

  Danbury held a sugar container over his cup and started to pour. “That depends on what you’ve got for me, Beckett.”

  The chief tipped the sugar upright, plunged a stir stick into his cup and met him eye to eye. “So why don’t you tell me, and we’ll have a sit-down over it, come up with a strategy.”

  “It’s about Adelaide.”

  Danbury looked over his shoulder at her. “Nice young woman. Does a hell of a job for us.”

  Royce swallowed, trying to dig the right words out of his vocabulary. Words that wouldn’t make her sound like a freak.

  “She put together a composite on the next victim.”

  “Nobody told me they’d found her.” Danbury’s voice went up an octave. “Where, when?”

  “It’s a prediscovery sketch, Chief.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Beckett?”

  Frustrated, he brushed his hand over his head and turned slightly, catching Adelaide’s full-blown grimace. “Maybe it would be easier if I showed you…in your office. In private, on a need-to-know basis.”

  “Damn straight.” Danbury picked up his cup of coffee and headed for his office on the main floor. “You’ve got ten minutes, Beckett. After that, you’ve got trouble.”

  Caution beat a rhythm in him as he walked to his desk, pulled out the bottom drawer and removed the sketches. Proof positive of her extraordinary abilities.

  Glancing up, he tried to give Adelaide a reassuring nod, but she didn’t look away from her conversation with Detective Lawton. He could live with her anger, as long as she was okay, and alive.

  He picked up the sketch pad off the desk and hurried out of the division on Danbury’s heels.

  “THANK YOU FOR COMING to this impromptu press conference.” Chief Danbury stood behind the podium that had been erected on the steps of the police station less than an hour ago, after phone calls went out to the media.

  “In recent weeks, two young women have been murdered. We’re doing everything possible to catch the person, or persons, responsible, but we need your help to locate the woman we feel could be the next victim.” Danbury held up the sketch.

  “It’s imperative that we find her. A special hotline has been set up to take your calls if you believe you know who this woman is.” He rattled off the hotline phone number.

  Sweat welled up under Royce’s shirt collar and tie and trickled down his back. Standing as backfill behind the chief along with a quarter of the department’s officers certainly made them look good, but the consolidation of body heat was torture.

  The air temperature was already reaching swelter level, and being the focus of cameras only made it worse.

  He pulled in a breath and reached over, putting his hand against the small of Adelaide’s back. She didn’t pull away, a fact he found encouraging, since her anger didn’t seem to have worn off much.

  He stared out into the sea of cameras and beyond, spotting a couple of homeless men standing on the other side of Royal Street watching the gathering.

  Recognition in need of confirmation spurred him into action. He leaned over and spoke into Adelaide’s ear.

  “Do you see those two men across the street?”

  “Yes.”

  “Didn’t we pass them this morning?”

  He watched her focus on them. “Yes. I just remember they both had on nice loafers. Kind of weird if you’re homeless.”

  That was it, that was the small detail he’d noticed on a subconscious level, the one that jacked his heart rate and released anxiety into his bloodstream.

  “Did you notice that one of them had a small scar on his lip?”

  She looked over and up at him. “Like the one in the drawing I did of the man who took your sister?”

  “Yes.”

  “I only glanced at his face for a second.” Her eyes narrowed in contemplation. “But, yeah. He did have a scar on the right-hand corner of his mouth.”

  “Stay put. You’re safe in this crush of uniforms. Scream if you feel threatened for any reason. I’m going after him.”

  Concern attached to Adelaide’s nerves as she watched Royce excuse himself through the group of cops and exit on the right. She watched him pause on the corner of Royal and Conti about the time the two men saw him.

  They turned and walked away, headed for Bienville Street, then broke into a jog halfway down the block.

  A second later, Royce followed, and she lost sight of him as he took a right onto Bienville.

  “And so I want to assure the good citizens of New Orleans that they’re safe, and we will catch whoever is responsible for these heinous murders.”

  “Chief Danbury, Rachel Wilson, WGNO-TV. An anonymous source has told me there may be a voodoo sect involved. Can you verify this information and tell us what the nature of the serial killings is? In addition I’d like to know if you’ve been able to establish any significance in the manner in which the bodies are being posed?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Wilson, but we’re not going to take any questions at this time. We’ll be updating the public as information becomes available.” The chief stepped back from the podium.

  Adelaide stared down at her watch. Ten minutes. Ten minutes since Royce had turned the corner onto Bienville. She couldn’t wait another second. She broke from the cluster of cops and headed straight for Danbury, catching him before he reentered the station door. “Sir.”

  “Miss Charboneau. Let me assure you that your job is safe. Royce told me—”

  “Listen…please listen. Royce took off after a suspect, and he hasn’t come back. I’m worried.”

  Danbury clutched her elbow. “Where did he go?”

  “He headed right on Bienville at the corner.” Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, her imagination working overtime with scenarios that made her blood run cold. “We’ve got to go and find him.”

  “Go inside. Wait. We’ll track him down.”

  Danbury signaled Detective Hicks, Detective Lawton and a uniformed cop she recognized as Officer Brooks. They huddled around the chief while he briefed them.

  Adelaide watched the men break formation and hurry down the steps, across the street and make the corner at Bienville.

  Where was Royce? She felt suddenly alone, even surrounded by twenty of the department’s finest. She needed Royce, almost as much as she needed air.

  In the crowd of cops, one of their radios broke squelch.

  “Dispatch, unit one. Do you copy?”

  Adelaide strained to hear, stepping closer, as Danbury’s familiar voice came in over the transmission.

  “Copy unit one, go ahead.”

  “We need an ambulance at Bienville and Bourbon Streets. We’ve got an officer down. I repeat, officer down.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The horrifying words coming from the police radio pounded in Adelaide’s eardrums.

  Her knees went weak. Was it Royce? Dear God, was it him? She had to get to him. Now.

  Filtering her way through a sea of blue, she took the steps two at a time and encountered Officer Brooks at the bottom, barring her way.

  “Miss Charboneau. Danbury gave me strict instructions that you’re to remain safely inside the station.”

  Frustration jumbled her nerves and gave her gumption she didn’t know she had. “Let me pass. If it’s Detective Beckett, I need to see him. He may have information from the attack that I can sketch.”

  The officer cocked his h
ead and studied her.

  “Please. Just take me over there, it’s only a block away.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Charboneau, I have my orders.”

  “Screw your orders, I’m going!” She dodged past him and broke into a run, hearing his footfalls pound the sidewalk right behind her. “Adelaide, wait!”

  But she didn’t wait. She kept moving, across Royal and down Bienville, making the scene at the same time as the ambulance did from the Bourbon Street side.

  She pressed through the crowd, ducking and nudging until she burst into the middle and came face-to-face with Chief Danbury.

  “Is it Royce?” Frantic, she leaned sideways and looked around the chief, seeing Royce on the pavement. The front of his white shirt spattered with blood.

  Her breath hung up in her throat, and she lunged forward, missing the chief’s protective arm as he put it out to stop her.

  “Royce!” She went to her knees beside him and watched him open his eyes.

  “Adelaide. You shouldn’t be here, it’s not safe.”

  Reaching out, she brushed her hand down his arm.

  “I’m going to live. With some stitches in my head, I’ll be fine.” He reached up, snagged her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “Calm down.”

  A couple of EMTs parted the crowd and she was forced to vacate her place next to him. Standing up, she backed up next to Chief Danbury and watched as they assessed Royce’s condition.

  “Did anyone see what happened?” Detective Hicks asked. “Stick around if you did. If you didn’t, move along, the show is over.”

  A collective grumble went through the bystanders as they peeled off a couple at a time, until only a handful remained.

  Hicks pulled out his notepad and approached a young couple for an eyewitness account.

  Adelaide refocused on Royce, watching the EMTs assess a gash on his forehead and one on his scalp. “We’ll take you in to get these stitched. Did you lose consciousness?”

  “I might have the first time he hit me with that damn pipe.”

  “You’ll need to be observed for a head injury.” The female EMT pulled a penlight out of her shirt pocket and shined it in Royce’s eyes. “Equal and reactive. Let’s get a C-collar on him and package him for transport to Tulane Medical Center.”

  In all of the commotion, Adelaide stayed focused on Royce, already picking up the details of the men’s faces. The two men he’d chased down Bienville Street. The man with a distinctive scar at the right corner of his mouth. A marking that mirrored the one on the sketch she’d drawn of his sister’s abductor.

  They loaded Royce onto a gurney and strapped him down.

  She turned and stared at Danbury. “I’m going with him.”

  He nodded. “I’ll get Officer Brooks to roll behind you in a squad car. He can haul you both back to the station.”

  “Thank you.” She turned and followed the gurney as the EMTs pushed it to the ambulance and rolled Royce inside. She followed behind and climbed in, itching for her sketch pad and the chance to put together the composite they were going to use to nail these guys.

  ROYCE PUNCHED THE ENTRY CODE into the keypad on the back door of the station and escorted Adelaide inside.

  “Let’s head straight for your office. I don’t think I can take any ribbing from the guys for resembling Frankenstein, until I get the face of the bastard who did it out of my aching head and onto paper.”

  “At least the assault took care of the need to run his composite through an aging program.”

  “Yeah. I guess there are advantages to having your head split open.” He sobered as they reached the elevator and pressed the up button. “It’s him, Adelaide. I know it’s the man I saw abduct my little sister twenty-nine years ago.”

  She reached out and brushed his arm, a reassuring gesture that produced an ache in his body. A need for more.

  The doors opened and they stepped inside, turned and watched them close.

  Alone at last, Royce thought as he turned toward her and grasped her upper arms in his hands. It was a move that churned up heat in his body that wouldn’t dissipate.

  “I’m sorry I had to explain to Danbury what you do, but he took it well, and because of you, we’ve got a chance to save lives and stop these nut jobs from killing more innocent women.”

  “You don’t have to apologize, Royce. I know why you did it. It was only a matter of time before my secret came out. It’s too bad it took a slime like Clay Franklin to discover it and set this whole thing in motion, instead of leaving me the decision to step up and claim it.”

  “It was set in motion a long time before Clay figured it out. It went into motion the day you were born and your birth mother left you in that church. That part of the revelation is still yours to reveal.” Need pulsed in every cell of his body, but he resisted the urge to pull her against him.

  Adelaide pondered his summation, wondering down deep why he didn’t wrap his arms around her right now, because that’s what she wanted. That’s what she needed to chase away the degree of apprehension skating over her nerves.

  The elevator hovered to a stop and the doors opened. They stepped out and headed down the hallway to her office.

  Halfway there she spotted a flat square box propped against her office door.

  “Are you expecting a package?”

  “No.”

  Caution moved her forward at a turtle’s pace, while Royce jumped three strides ahead of her and stopped at the door. He knelt next to the parcel and cocked his head to read the label. “No return address, but it’s postmarked New Orleans.” He stood up. “You’re sure you’re not expecting anything?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He pulled his cell phone from his belt and moved her back down the hallway toward the elevator. “Chief, Beckett here. We may have a situation on the third floor. There’s a suspicious package in front of Miss Charboneau’s office door.” He paused. “Okay, I’ll look for them in ten.” He closed his phone.

  “What’s going on?” She couldn’t keep the tremble out of her voice as she stared up at him, at the hard set of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes.

  “It could be an explosive, Adelaide. The bomb squad is en route to check it out.”

  He pressed the down button. The carriage arrived and the doors opened. They stepped inside, but this time he opened his arms to her, and she gladly moved into them for the ride down to the main floor.

  The elevator doors opened on a mass evacuation from the station.

  Danbury spotted them and headed straight for them before they’d even exited the cubicle.

  “Hell of a time for this to happen, Beckett. The hotline phones are ringing off the hook, and we’ll be standing in the street when the case-breaking call comes in.”

  “Then they’ll call back, Chief. If it’s legit, they’ll call back.”

  Danbury grunted and pointed at the front door. “Mandatory evacuation. The bomb squad is bringing in the portable X-ray to scan the package, ETA five minutes.”

  Royce nodded and steered Adelaide for the main entrance, wondering if the timing of the suspicious package and the opening of the hotline weren’t somehow related. The relative link sent a wave of caution surging through him, raising him up on the crest of an unsettling thought.

  The timing would require calculation on the part of the killer, which meant he’d have to be totally tuned in to everything transpiring in the case. Could they be dealing with a killer on the inside? Or just someone leaking information to the outside?

  They walked out the front of the building into the early-afternoon heat.

  Royce scanned the faces of the boys in blue, but he couldn’t get his head around the idea that one of them was a killer, or the mastermind behind the search, assault and murder of anyone they suspected of being a Beholder.

  Instinctively, he reached for Adelaide and guided her down the steps, where they blended into the crowd and turned to watch the bomb squad enter the building with their high-tech equ
ipment in tow.

  HALF AN HOUR LATER, CHIEF Danbury worked his way to the top of the steps, closed his cell phone and gave the all-clear sign. The officers filtered back into the building, but Danbury waited.

  Royce made eye contact with him and instantly knew something was up.

  “Hey, Chief, tell me the package contained a box of candy and a thank-you note to Adelaide for sketching some creep’s face.”

  “Nada on both counts. They’ve got the contents laid out in the hallway, and we need Adelaide to tell us if she knows what any of it means.”

  Tension looped through Adelaide’s body and pulled her muscles tight. Only Royce’s hand against her back offered a decisive measure of reassurance she could feel.

  “What are the items, Chief?” she asked as they followed him through the double doors, which had been propped open.

  “Some sort of mask that looks like it came from Mardi Gras, and the damndest thing. A piece of hair bound in a rubber band. I haven’t seen the things, but the bomb tech said there’s a note attached to the hair.”

  A chill cultivated under her skin and blossomed on her arms in the form of gooseflesh. “That’s a new wrinkle. Was the hair cut, or pulled out?”

  “I don’t know.” Danbury led the way to the elevator, and they stacked up behind a group of waiting cops. “That’ll be a determination for the lab to make. Any idea why someone would send this bizarre stuff to you? It’s obviously a message of some kind.”

  Royce really hadn’t told the chief everything. He’d left Danbury believing that this was precipitated by her ability to pull images from victims’ thoughts. He’d left her with a measure of privacy, and the decision of whether or not the circumstances warranted revelation of the rest of the story.

  Respect latched onto her image of the man standing next to her, protecting her, holding her…caring for her?

  “About the message, Chief. There are some additional things you need to know about me.”

  “Do they require a sit-down?”

  “Yes, sir. I believe they do.”