COLD BLOOD (a John Jordan Mystery Book 13)

Home > Mystery > COLD BLOOD (a John Jordan Mystery Book 13) > Page 20
COLD BLOOD (a John Jordan Mystery Book 13) Page 20

by Michael Lister


  Bye for now (or is it forever?),

  Me

  50

  Though the letter had been written to me, how to respond to it isn’t my decision. Within seconds of reading it, Sheriff Varney orders roadblocks in Franklin County and Reggie does the same in Gulf. BOLOs are issued. Searches begun.

  It’s all pointless. Randa is long gone. And Daniel with her.

  She has a fourteen-hour head start. She could be in Cuba. Or Texas or Tennessee. And if they flew, they could be on the other side of the world.

  “She’s wrong about your ego, isn’t she?” Reggie says.

  It’s much later and we are driving back toward Gulf County together.

  “Huh?” I say, rousing out of thought.

  I can tell I’m in shock, a dissonant distance between my thoughts and my ability to process them. Disbelief that Daniel is gone.

  “You don’t mind the fact that it was a woman who pulled this off,” she says. “No more than a man. She put in her letter that part about you being beaten by a girl.”

  “Oh,” I say. “No. And I don’t look at it in terms of winning and losing. It’s not a game to me. I don’t mind that she beat me. To be honest, if she truly hasn’t killed anyone, even with what she did to Hunter—given who he is and what he did to her and Annie Kathryn, I wouldn’t have minded her just disappearing. Wouldn’t have even felt the need to look for her all that hard. What I mind is that I failed Daniel. That’s . . . the . . .”

  “You were lead investigator, sure, but we were all working the case. We all failed to find her in time—though you were getting close. You had found the scent. She knew her days were numbered. The failure to protect Daniel is on all of us. But . . . he snuck out. That’s not exactly our failure to protect. Can’t protect someone who doesn’t want to be. Why would he do that? It didn’t seem odd to him that she was asking him to crawl through his window to—”

  “He just thought they were keeping their meeting a secret,” I say. “He thought they were just two lonely people with incapacitated spouses who were—”

  “Oh,” she says. “Oh.”

  “He had no idea what he was walking into.”

  “Poor Daniel. Poor Sam. What will happen to her now?”

  “Anna and I’ve talked. We’re gonna move her in with us. Until we get Daniel back or she’s able to live on her own again.”

  “John, that’s . . . it’s incredible of you guys, but . . . the chances of either of those things happening are . . . so . . . slim. You sure you know what you’re signing up for?”

  “We do.”

  “You feel responsible for what happened to both of them,” she says. “But you’re not. You’re not.”

  I don’t say anything and we ride along in silence for a while.

  Up ahead on the highway near the county line, cars are lined up at the roadblock.

  “You think we were wrong to set up the roadblocks?” she asks.

  “I think she’s long gone—and was before the sun came up this morning.”

  “You think she’ll kill him?”

  “Not because of roadblocks. I . . . I don’t think she will. I think she likes Daniel. So far as we know she hasn’t killed anyone.”

  “What she did to Jeffrey Dixon Hunter was worse than death,” she says. “Think about what she’s done to him and for how long.”

  “It shows a metal at her core like I’ve rarely encountered,” I say. “Maybe never. She’s . . . one of the strongest, smartest, most capable people I’ve ever encountered.”

  “You admire her?” she asks in surprise. “Tell me she’s not capable of murder.”

  “The things she said on the podcast—I think she meant them. I think she has a highly developed sense of justice. I think she cares deeply about victims, that she’s outraged at the wickedness and brutality of criminal depravity inflicted on innocent and unsuspecting victims. I’m not saying she won’t do whatever she feels she has to to survive, but I don’t think she’ll kill Daniel.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she says. “You have a higher opinion of her than I do.”

  “Merrick spent a lot of time with her,” I say. “See what he thinks.”

  “Already have,” she says. “He shares your opinion.”

  “We could both be delusional,” I say. “In denial that Daniel could already be dead—or that he might be soon.”

  51

  “You okay?” Anna asks.

  She has just come up behind me on our back patio where I am standing and thinking and looking at the last of the light over Lake Julia.

  It’s the middle of October, and the evening is cool, the quality of its light stark. Just behind the pines and cypress trees along the far side of Julia, a low jack-o-lantern-orange glow is fading into nothingness.

  “Is it okay if I’m not?” I ask.

  “Of course,” she says. “Just don’t expect me not to try to make it better.”

  It’s been two weeks and no word from Daniel. He is now as missing as any one of the poor vanished young women most of the true crime podcasts are about.

  Through the French doors behind us, Sam’s hospital bed is set up in the center of our living room and she’s sleeping peacefully in it. In a few moments, Merrill and Zaire will arrive for dinner, followed a little later by Dad and Verna and Reggie and Merrick.

  But I don’t feel like company, have no appetite for food or companionship.

  How can I enjoy a meal or the warmth of my friends while Daniel is still out there somewhere, a soul in purgatory, a light, like the one behind the lake before me, going out.

  Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow . . .

  A random snippet of Shakespeare surfaces, but I stifle any more.

  “What can I do?” Anna asks.

  I shrug. “You’re doing it. You’re doing all you can do. Thanks for all you’re doing. I’m sorry I’m . . . It’s just hard to . . . I feel so . . . I’ll get better.”

  “And sooner or later we’ll find him,” she says. “Or she’ll return him.”

  I try to nod, but can’t quite do it.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “For what?”

  “Well, everything. You’re such a generous, incredible partner, but just then I was appreciating you understanding how I feel and not telling me to get over it, to suck it up buttercup.”

  She laughs. “I’d never say suck it up buttercup.”

  “And thank you for that too.”

  “Let me tell you something, John Jordan,” she says. “I believe in you like I’ve never believed in anyone. Ever. If I were out there somewhere, you’re who I’d want looking for me. So you do what you’ve got to do—grieve, process, figure it out—whatever it is, and then you find Daniel for us.”

  “’M I interrupting?” Merrill asks as he joins us on the back porch.

  “Never,” Anna says, turning and hugging him.

  When she lets go of him, he actually steps over and gives me a hug too.

  Our hug has an economy and brevity his and hers did not. When he pulls back—something he starts doing the moment the hug begins—he narrows his eyes and nods at me.

  “I figure in addition to whatever else you doin’, you lookin’ for the professor,” he says to me.

  I nod.

  “I’m in,” he says. “I lost him. I should help find him.”

  “You certainly should,” I say, nodding vigorously.

  “Way I figure it . . . between the four of us—Zaire in on this too—we oughta have Daniel back least by the time Sam firin’ on all eight cylinders again.”

  “Helps to have a deadline,” Anna says.

  “I is goal oriented,” he says, a broad smile spreading across his face.

  “Let’s go eat and discuss how we’re gonna do it,” Anna says.

  They turn and head in, but I linger behind and take one more look at Julia.

  Standing there, staring into the gloom, I wonder where Daniel is at this moment. Is he scared?
Suffering one of his panic attacks? Is he drugged? Conscious? Aware? Does he know we’re coming for him? That we won’t stop until we find him?

  Surely he does. Surely if he knows anything, he knows that.

  Also by Michael Lister

  Written by Michael Lister.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Books by Michael Lister

  Sign up for Michael’s newsletter by clicking here or go to

  www.MichaelLister.com and receive a free book.

  (John Jordan Novels)

  Power in the Blood

  Blood of the Lamb

  Flesh and Blood

  (Special Introduction by Margaret Coel)

  The Body and the Blood

  Blood Sacrifice

  Rivers to Blood

  Innocent Blood

  (Special Introduction by Michael Connelly)

  Blood Money

  Blood Moon

  Blood Cries

  Blood Oath

  Blood Work

  Cold Blood

  (Jimmy “Soldier” Riley Novels)

  The Big Goodbye

  The Big Beyond

  The Big Hello

  The Big Bout

  The Big Blast

  In a Spider’s Web (short story)

  The Big Book of Noir

  (Merrick McKnight / Reggie Summers Novels)

  Thunder Beach

  A Certain Retribution

  (Remington James Novels)

  Double Exposure

  (includes intro by Michael Connelly)

  Separation Anxiety

  (Sam Michaels / Daniel Davis Novels)

  Burnt Offerings

  Separation Anxiety

  (Love Stories)

  Carrie’s Gift

  (Short Story Collections)

  North Florida Noir

  Florida Heat Wave

  Delta Blues

  Another Quiet Night in Desparation

  (The Meaning Series)

  Meaning Every Moment

  The Meaning of Life in Movies

  Sign up for Michael’s newsletter by clicking here or go to

  www.MichaelLister.com and receive a free book.

 

 

 


‹ Prev