by Jonas Saul
“I’m sorry.”
“Things are better. It’s been a couple of years now. How about you? What’s your story?”
“Near retirement. Next month. This’ll be my last case.”
Aaron set his coffee down. “Wife? Kids? Golf?”
Now it was Lyson’s turn to look outside and stare at nothing. He turned the car on to combat the cold that was seeping in.
“Married once. No kids.”
“What happened?”
“She died.”
“Sorry.”
Lyson shook his head. “It happens. Routine stop. Drunk driver high on something was pulled over by my wife and her partner. They got out. Followed procedures, asked the driver to exit the vehicle. He didn’t.”
“What happened?”
“He hit the gas instead.”
“Surely she wasn’t standing in front of the car?” Aaron asked.
“No, no. She was on the side. The driver squealed away, spun the wheel hard to the left and did a U-turn in front of them. They were running for their cruiser. He rammed them doing at least fifty. Knocked himself out with the airbag.”
“And that killed her?”
“No, just stunned her. She got out, walked around the other car, her gun drawn, and ordered the driver out. The problem was they were on the side of a two-lane highway during the evening. Her cruiser’s lights and parking lights were knocked out when the other vehicle smashed the battery and engine block of the cruiser. The perp’s car was off, no lights. She had a flashlight, but that was it.”
“Oh, no …”
Lyson nodded. “A semi came along and didn’t see anything until it was too late. He jerked on the wheel and cleared both vehicles with his cab, but the trailer was overweight. It tipped and slid sideways, smashing the trunk of the cruiser first and working its way through the drunk’s car. It hit Caroline last, decapitating her. They found her head in the ditch thirty feet away from her body.” He turned to look at Aaron, his eyes rimmed with wetness. “Her gun was still in her hand.”
“Tough lady.”
“You got that right,” Lyson said and dropped the vehicle into gear. “We’ve still got a lot of work to do tonight. Let’s go make sure that everything is done at the warehouse and then I’ll take you home.”
“Home? I’m not going home.”
“I am. We have to sleep. We can’t work twenty-four hours a day to save people. We have to eat and sleep.”
“Isn’t there anything I could do to help?”
“Actually, there is. Go home and sleep. In two days we’re giving you a ride-along. We’re raiding known street gang hideouts. We’ll find Sarah and then get her to this meeting with the Leap Year Killer so we can nail him, too. Once he’s off the streets, you and Sarah can go back to your lives.”
“Somehow I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”
Chapter 28
Three days had passed without much happening. They had taken her down from the wall, tying her to a longer chain. She was still manacled, but now her limbs weren’t suspended above her. It had taken all of a day for the feeling to come back to what she considered normal.
They had fed her decently and gave her enough water that she was never thirsty. But no shower. Not even a wet cloth.
Death came and talked to her frequently throughout the day. No one was allowed in her room but him. He had posted a large, tattooed man as a sentry who was given breaks by a wiry youth no older than sixteen.
Sarah had come up with a few plans for escape, but all of them involved the chains not being on her wrists. So far, they had only removed them to hook on the longer links. She had to use a bucket as a toilet. At least they gave her privacy for that.
Presently, the sun was high and the house quiet. Through the day, most of them were doing whatever it was street gangs did. If she was ever going to get out of here, it would have to be the day time.
“Hey?” she called to the guy sitting just outside her door.
He didn’t move.
“Hey? Think I could get something to read? Pretty boring in here.”
“You’re not here to be entertained. You wait. Your time is coming.”
“I know that. Just thought maybe I could read while I wait. Like at a dentist or doctor’s office.”
He peeked around the doorframe, a sneer on his face, then looked away.
“When do you think Juan is coming? This is getting boring.”
“Soon enough. You’ll regret you asked that when he gets here.”
“He’s going to be pissed at you guys when he gets here. Not just me.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?” The guy looked around the edge again.
“Because, I haven’t had a shower in three days. You’ve left me chained to a wall. You think he’s gonna want to have a piece of this smelling the way I do?”
“You’re so stupid,” he said and looked away. “No more talking.”
“Why am I stupid? Seems rational to me. Let me take a shower.”
“You’re not showering because Juan likes it dirty. He’s the sickest one of all of us. Remember, it was his woman that he offered to fifteen of us to beat on as we violated her. He wanted to go last. You think he’s worried about your body odor? Classy bitch.”
This gang qualified for the worst humans she had ever met. They all deserved to either die or be in prison for the rest of their lives. There couldn’t be a reform for this kind of criminal.
“Can’t say I’ve been called a classy bitch before.”
“No more talking.”
“Yeah,” a voice boomed from the front of the house. Death was home. “No more talking!”
He stomped through the house and entered the living room. Fresh blood smeared his hands.
“What happened to you?” Sarah asked.
“Rival gang. Wrong territory. Didn’t read the signs on the way in. Learned to read today.” He turned to the sentry posted at the door. “Take a break.”
The guy got up and walked away. A door slammed somewhere deep in the house. Death wiped his hands on his pants and yanked the sentry’s chair from the hall. He straddled it backwards and sat down facing Sarah.
“We have a problem,” he said.
“What’s that?” Sarah asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.
“I like air. I enjoy watching things fly.”
She had gotten used to talking to Death. His name wasn’t all that original. He was big on honor and doing right by the gang. And he loved killing a little too much. His views on things were twisted.
“Planes are nice.” Her tone wasn’t patronizing. “Go to an airport. Watch them fly.”
“I like watching things fly that don’t have wings.”
“What, like skateboarders, motorcyclists doing jumps?”
“Close. I’m talking about unnatural flight.”
“Okay,” she said, even though she had no idea where he was going.
“I’ve killed a lot of people. Young and old, male and female.”
She stayed silent. Sentences like that made her want to pummel him, break a few bones in his face and wait for the police to take him to prison. How Death was still in society was beyond her. It only reminded her of how many truly sick individuals walked among the general public every day without anyone knowing who they were.
“But I have never thrown anyone off a building before. I want to see that. I want to see someone die from flight.”
“Interesting.”
“And I want that to be you,” he said, pointing at her. “I am going to take you to the top of a building somewhere and throw you off. How’s that?”
“I’m not afraid of heights,” she said. He leaned back and smiled. “I’m not afraid of falling, either. It’s that sudden stop at the end. That’s a real bitch.”
He dropped his hand and stared at her. “That was a joke, right? I get it. Good one.” He stood and moved the chair aside. “I’ve decided. Tomorrow night. I will throw you off a building. Then you die.”
He headed for the door.
“Juan’s going to be pissed. Isn’t he coming for me?”
Death turned at the door. “He’s being released tomorrow afternoon. His lawyer has secured that. We’ll be picking him up. But he won’t be upset that he misses out on you.”
“Why’s that? Doesn’t he want his revenge?”
“You haven’t been listening. We have a party when one of us is released from prison but we can’t have that party here. Too much attention. This has become a fortified clubhouse in the woods. We’ll locate a building, have a party, deal with Juan and then I’ll throw you off the roof.” He smiled wide, his crazy look mastered. “Once, a long time ago, we were featured in National Geographic as one of the world’s most dangerous gangs. Even Newsweek did a feature on AOV. We’re famous for knives and machetes.”
“You’ve told me some of this.”
“I know, but you weren’t listening. When one of us tries to stop someone from getting shot or hurt, that’s an act of disloyalty. That person must die next and more violently than anything you can imagine. We have to set an example. Better to swallow your conscience, or die in a way you didn’t even know possible.”
She was putting it together. Juan was coming home—to his own funeral for stopping the initiation on his girlfriend. He was never going to get near Sarah. They only had her here to make her pay for what she did to one of theirs. And to make an apparent show of allegiance for Juan while he was in jail.
“When you shot Juan, he was arrested and taken to the hospital. Tomorrow he’s out on crutches. We deal with him then. When he’s dead and dismembered, I’ll deal with you.”
“Then let me help.”
“Help? How?” He blinked. “Why?”
She could tell he was instantly suspicious of her motivations. She told him the address Vivian had given her. “It’s north of the 401 on Keele. Abandoned warehouse. Find a way in. It’s over three stories high. If I don’t die on the first throw, bring me back up. I could fly twice.”
Death laughed and she laughed along with him. It grated on her nerves.
“You’re joking, right?”
“You need somewhere secluded, where no one will know you’re there. I’ve looked at this place. Secluded and in the industrial part of town. After ten or eleven at night, no one will be around. The warehouse is huge,” she added, though she hadn’t been inside it yet. “Check it out yourself beforehand.”
“Why would you help? You’re not making sense. You die in the end.”
“Because I would rather die from a fall than the alternative with Juan. You have saved me from that hell.”
He frowned. “You are strange.” He stared at her a moment more. “I don’t believe you, but I’m curious.” He stepped close and flexed his hands. “I might check this address out. If I see cops or anything out of the ordinary, or I think it’s a trap for even one second, I will come back here and rape you with a machete. Understand?”
She tried hard not to listen to his words. The thoughts that entered her mind were difficult to banish.
“Understood.”
He walked away, taking the chair back to the door. A minute later, someone else walked down the hallway and sat down.
The sentry was back on duty.
Chapter 29
Aaron’s knuckles tingled with the need to punch somebody. He couldn’t believe how incompetent the police were in handling Sarah’s disappearance. Four days had passed and they had no leads. She could be anywhere by now. Or dead.
Since there had been no demands made by potential kidnappers, they weren’t sure if she was still alive. Lyson told him to prepare for the worst since the odds were working against them.
But they didn’t know Sarah like he did.
The raids on gang hangouts and known crack houses had gone well, netting dozens of arrests. But there was no sign of Sarah. No one on the street, according to Lyson’s task force, had seen or heard of Sarah Roberts.
Earlier today, a member of a violent street gang named Angels of Violence, known by the tattoos on his face, had been seen near the warehouse where Lyson and Sarah were supposed to meet The Leap Year Killer. Martin Rankin, the medical examiner, had been elevated to a person of interest.
When a member of the task force set up across the street had called in to report a street gang member was seen in the area, Lyson told him to stand down. Let him go. Do not be seen and do not follow him.
“Why not have him followed?” Aaron asked. He stormed into Lyson’s office ready to fight. “You know that AOV members were in the area when those two FBI agents were attacked. And now one shows up at the warehouse where you and Sarah are supposed to be tonight. Too coincidental for me.”
Lyson set his pen down and looked at Aaron over thin glasses that sat on the end of his nose. “That tattooed man got inside the warehouse, toured it and was seen on the roof. According to Justin, who manned the cameras across the street, the freak reentered the building and left through a hole in the fence at the back. He disappeared after that. We figure he walked through the snow-covered field at the back and used the train tracks to leave the area by another route.”
“Right. Back to my original question. Why not have him followed? He’s probably the one holding Sarah. That was the purpose of the gang raids a few days ago. Wasn’t it?” Aaron rubbed his face in frustration. The police had their own way which didn’t always make sense to him.
“We didn’t follow him because the risk of being discovered was too great. If he is holding Sarah, which I suspect he is, and he saw a tail, Sarah wouldn’t be there tonight.”
“What?” Aaron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “If you followed him he would lead you to Sarah.”
Lyson shook his head. “No, not these guys. They are very good. He would see us following him a mile away and never go back to his clubhouse. Sarah would be lost forever. Providing they’re the ones who have her.”
“Why not nab him and make him talk.”
Lyson chuckled. “You think these are the kinds of guys who rat out the others? You think he’ll tell us where she is? An Angels of Violence member would rather spend ten years in prison before he would rat one of his own out. I’ve seen what happens to one of their members when they’re caught being disloyal. No, that would never fly.”
“You’re instilling hope that Sarah is doing well having spent almost a week with these kinds of people.”
“Sorry. It’s just reality.”
There was a moment of quiet between them. Lyson picked up his pen and continued writing.
“Have you found Rankin? Did anyone go to his house?”
“What is this, Aaron? Twenty questions?” Lyson took his glasses off and set them on the desk. “I’ve been doing this a long time, you know, cop stuff.”
Aaron gestured with his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m worried for Sarah.”
“She can take care of herself. If anyone can, Sarah can.”
“Look, Lyson, I’m just trying to get up to speed on what’s happening. Tonight’s the meeting and you don’t have Sarah yet.”
“True, but I believe she’s going to be there and she’s bringing friends.”
“How so?”
“She knows about the warning from Russell. You told her on the phone when she called you. She was given the warehouse address from Vivian and the time. She knows where she needs to be. We think AOV took her because she shot one of theirs, Juan, who we released today. Juan is being watched. So far, no Sarah. We also surmised that the AOV guy who checked out the warehouse earlier was there on the advice of Sarah. Somehow he got the address from her. Sarah doesn’t know that the Leap Year Killer requested her at the meeting tonight but she does know that she’s supposed to be there because of Vivian and has worked it out somehow with AOV that she is.”
“And you don’t feel that’s stretching things a little?”
“No.” Lyson picked up his glasses. “Call it a hunch.”
“A bunch of hun
ches.” Aaron looked at the far wall lined with pictures of Lyson shaking hands with other well-dressed men. “What about your medical examiner?”
Lyson looked up at him.
“What?” Aaron said, gesturing with his hands again, his shoulders raised. “I’m just checking.”
“We searched his home. Came up empty. If he’s been murdering women for twelve years, which I’m beginning to believe he has, he’s been very meticulous about it.”