Crimson Lake Road (Desert Plains)

by Victor Methos

  She made her way over to a window on the far wall. It was small but wide enough for her to fit through. She went over to the chair Chance had been sitting in, brought it over to the window, and climbed onto it. She opened the window all the way. As she was about to pull herself through, she heard footfalls coming downstairs.

  Quickly, she jumped off the chair and ran to the door Chance had gotten the painting from. It was a closet. She stepped inside and quietly shut the door.

  The main door to the basement opened. She heard Chance say something and stop midsentence. Then he chuckled.

  “There’s not many places to hide, if you haven’t noticed, J.”

  His boots sounded against the bare pavement, and she could tell he was over by the window.

  “Shit!”

  She heard him run to the basement door again and then dash upstairs. She opened the closet door and hurried over to where Tucker was. There was no time to cut him loose. She grabbed a knife from the tools Chance had laid out and rushed to the stairs.

  72

  Baldwin waited on Gail Rhodes’s porch only long enough for the forensics team he’d called down from Vegas to pull up. He stepped off the porch and directed them to the SUV. Down the street, several LVPD uniformed officers were going door to door. Chief Wilson was inside Gail’s home, helping her search for a photograph. Whoever the Executioner was, Yardley had come closer to finding him than he felt comfortable with. He must’ve followed her and known she would recognize him, which meant it could be someone Baldwin would recognize, too.

  He had officers stationed outside Jude Chance’s home and an APB out on him and his car, and the same for Tucker Pharr. All he had on Chance was a coincidence—Leonard happened to die after Yardley told Chance they had a witness—but a coincidence was more than nothing.

  The chief came out of the house. Baldwin met him on the porch. “Anything?”

  “She only had the one photograph and it’s gone. You’re not thinking it’s him, are you? Bobby Jones?”

  He shook his head. “Found a death certificate for him in San Francisco. Suicide.”

  “Then who?”

  Baldwin put his hands on the porch railing and watched the forensic people dust around the door handles of the SUV. “I don’t know, but it’s not an outsider. The man who took her has been involved in this case since the beginning.”

  He couldn’t wait any longer. He told Chief Wilson he was going to check somewhere else. If the Executioner saw Yardley as part of this now, there was only one place Baldwin thought he would take her.

  Traffic wasn’t bad, and Baldwin got to Crimson Lake Road as the sun was setting. By his estimation, there were at least a hundred cabins and houses surrounding the lake. It would take days to search every one.

  He drove slowly through the neighborhoods, uncertain what exactly he was looking for. The Executioner could cross the street right in front of him, and Baldwin would have no idea. Still, it was better than sitting on his ass and doing nothing, hoping something turned up.

  He pulled the car over to think and tapped his finger against the steering wheel while he did so. Though searching every home here in time would be impossible, he could start with the ones the Executioner was likeliest to know. The cabins Kathy Pharr and Angela River were found in were two, and Tucker Pharr’s grandfather’s old house was another.

  Baldwin put the first address into his GPS and began to drive.

  73

  Yardley gripped the knife tightly. Her feet were bare, so her steps were quiet. The stairs were carpeted, and they looped around to the left. She stopped halfway and peered onto the higher floor.

  The house was empty. No furniture, no decorations. Just carpet, walls, and cobwebs. She had no doubt she was in a home on Crimson Lake Road.

  When she got to the top of the stairs, she paused and listened. She couldn’t hear anything but the water churning outside. This cabin was on the shore of the lake.

  A sliding glass door led outside from the kitchen. It was dark now, and she wondered how many hours it had been since she’d been in Fruit Heights. Outside the glass was a thicket of trees, and past that she could see water.

  Yardley made her way across the linoleum, stopping and listening again when she got to the sliding glass door. She hadn’t heard a car start, which meant Chance was looking for her on foot. Could she outrun him if she saw him? She didn’t know. And most of the cabins and homes were abandoned. There might be no one nearby who she could run to and ask to use their phone.

  As slowly as possible, she unlocked the latch on the door and slid it open, an inch at a time to avoid making noise. It got stuck on something. She saw a stick of wood the width of a finger pressed between the door and the wall to keep it from opening all the way. She bent down and removed the wood and laid it on the floor. Then she slid the door open.

  There was no rain here, and the night air was warm. Yardley stepped out onto the back patio and looked down the street. Only two homes had lights on, both near the end of the street. She made a run for the road. Her bare feet hurt as they pounded against the street, which was speckled with pebbles and had large cracks in the pavement.

  She heard noises behind her. Glancing back, she saw Chance run out from between two cabins. He looked up the street and spotted her.

  She pumped her arms, and her legs burned as though battery acid flowed through them. She was in a full sprint now. Chance was shouting something. Yardley didn’t try to figure out what.

  She held the lights of the homes up the street in her field of vision and nothing else. They took up her entire focus, like she was lost at sea in the dark and the lights of a ship had just appeared in front of her.

  Chance was nearly to her.

  She ran to the first cabin and tried the door, but it was locked. She turned to run to the next. Chance was coming up behind her.

  Yardley jumped off the right side of the porch and dashed to the back of the cabin. There was no fence, and she raced across the backyard, which was nothing but dirt. Looping around, she was back out onto the street. She could hear Chance’s breathing.

  She couldn’t run forever, and she had no idea if people were anywhere near here. She sprinted up the road, hoping she might spot a car headed their direction.

  Her legs were tiring, and it felt like her chest was charred by fire. Chance was panting behind her, too, and she didn’t know which of them would give up first.

  Then she thought of Tara. Of Tara growing up in a world where people like Eddie Cal and Wesley Paul and Jude Chance were alive but her mother was not. Yardley had no doubt that if she died here, Tara would turn to Eddie Cal for solace. Despite everything else he was, he was still her father. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to live for Tara.

  Yardley stopped running and turned to face Chance underneath one of only a few streetlights on the road. Winded, sweat rolling down her face and neck, her chest heaving, she raised the knife. Chance smirked as he sprinted right for her. Yardley gripped the knife tighter and braced herself.

  A car engine roared past the corner, tires screeching.

  Baldwin’s black Mustang clipped Chance at the hip. Chance went flying, spinning through the air, then crashing onto the pavement. Baldwin leapt out of the car with his weapon drawn.

  “Lemme see your hands. Now!”

  Chance struggled to get up. He groaned as he got to his knees and spit a glob of blood onto the ground. Blood ran down his cheeks and forehead. He sat back and breathed heavily, watching Baldwin before turning his eyes to Yardley.

  “Tucker needs to die,” Chance said, out of breath.

  Yardley didn’t respond.

  “You know he needs to die. Let me do it. Let me do it and you can do whatever you want with me after. I don’t care. Full confession. But he has to die.”

  Baldwin said, “Sorry, Jude, but that’s not happening today.”

  Chance took several deep breaths before leaning forward on his hands. “Do you got a sister, Agent Baldwin? I did
. What if he did to your sister what he did to Sue Ellen or what some sick piece of shit did to my sister? What would you do to them?”

  Baldwin shook his head. “Whatever I would’ve done to him, it wouldn’t have involved his daughter. Now make your choice—you wanna live or not? If you wanna live, get down on the ground and lay flat with your hands out.”

  They watched each other a moment, and then Chance lay down.

  “Look left, Jude.”

  He did as he was told. Baldwin thrust his knee into Chance’s back and pulled his arms behind him. He holstered his weapon and then slapped cuffs on him.

  “He has to die, Jessica,” Chance shouted. “He has to die! Don’t let him get away with it. You can’t! He’ll keep doing it. You know I’m right. He has to die!”

  74

  Yardley was checked by the paramedics but refused to go to the hospital, though her lungs burned with every breath. She guessed Chance had used chloroform on her, but a paramedic told her that chlorine could have the same effect, except it also burned the lungs, and she would need breathing treatment for it.

  Baldwin came up to her. “We’re getting you to the hospital.”

  “I’m fine. I just want to go home.”

  “Yeah, well, sorry, you’re going to the hospital. Even if I have to arrest you to do it.”

  She looked at the police cruiser that held Jude Chance. He was staring at them, motionless. An officer got into the driver’s side, and the car pulled away. Tucker had already been taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital. Baldwin said some deputies were heading down there to get his statement.

  “The cabin used to belong to Tucker’s grandfather.”

  Yardley nodded. “I thought it would.”

  “Why do you think here? Crimson Lake Road and Tucker’s grandfather’s house?”

  Yardley had to take a moment to just breathe, as talking made it more difficult to get air. “Tucker used this house as a prison for the girls and dumped the bodies into the lake.”

  Baldwin took a deep breath. “Poetic to kill him here then, I guess. Gotta say, I can’t blame Chance. I checked out what he said, and it’s true. Ivy Chance disappeared when she was twelve and was never found. Someone does something like that to your sister . . . I don’t know. You don’t know what you’ll do until it happens, but anyone would be looking for some payback. Even if it wasn’t against the guy who did the actual deed.” He sat down next to her on the bumper of the ambulance. “He’s right about one thing—it’s not fair. It’s not fair that Kathy and Sue Ellen Jones died, but Tucker gets to live. Guess that’s just life, though, isn’t it? Has nothing to do with what’s fair.”

  Yardley stared at the cabin. “No, it doesn’t.” She looked at him. “I need to go.”

  “Where?”

  “Can I borrow your car?”

  “What? What are you talking about? We’re going to the hospital.”

  She held his gaze and said softly, “There’s someone I need to see first, Cason. Please.”

  “Who?”

  She held out her hand. “Please.”

  He didn’t move for a few seconds, then mumbled, “Shit,” and dropped the keys in her hand. “I’ll get a ride back to my place with one of the deputies. You gotta tell me where you’re going, though.”

  “No, but I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  Yardley parked the car up the street from River’s home. She still felt a tinge of light-headedness, but not enough to impair her ability to drive. The skin around her mouth had burned and become light pink. A cough had developed that wouldn’t go away. She would have to go to the hospital, but not yet.

  Yardley went to the front of the house. No lights were on. She looked through a window of the garage and only saw one car, Zachary’s.

  She tried the front door and several windows before she discovered that a window by the back door had been left open. She lifted it up, and no alarm went off. It was wide enough that she could easily make it through.

  The house was quiet and still.

  Yardley checked the living room and then went to the bedroom. Clothes were scattered over the floor and bed. Someone had packed in a hurry.

  She closed her eyes and leaned against the doorframe. Then she took out her phone and dialed Baldwin.

  “I was just about to call you,” he said.

  She rubbed the back of her neck, attempting to alleviate the pain radiating out from the base of her skull. “Have you interviewed Chance yet?”

  “Letting him cook a little first. Where are you?”

  She ignored his question. “I’ll be at my house. If you want to pick up your car, you can, or I can swing it by to you tomorrow.”

  “Are you really not going to tell me where you are right now?”

  She looked over at River’s bed. “There’s nothing to tell. I just wanted to check something. I’m going home now, Cason. Tell the detectives they can get a witness statement from me in the morning.”

  “Yeah,” he said, confused. “I’ll swing by. Look, um, you okay, Jess? I mean, this is a big—”

  “I’m fine. I just need some rest. Thank you again.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m gonna come by in a few hours and we’re going to the hospital.”

  “Good night.”

  She hung up and found she didn’t have the strength to stand. She sat down against the door, brought her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. The closet door was open, and several pieces of luggage were out on the floor. Some of River’s bracelets were on the nightstand. A watch had fallen near the bed.

  After a few minutes, Yardley rose and left the house.

  75

  Her house was dark when she got home. Tara was asleep.

  Yardley decided she wouldn’t be telling Tara everything. She would find out enough on her own, but there would be details left out online, and those wouldn’t be filled in by Yardley. Tara didn’t need an image in her head of her mother unconscious in a dark basement.

  Eddie Cal would hear about it as well. She thought back to her conversation with him and how he had praised Jude Chance’s article.

  He knows his subject well.

  She wondered if it was just a little praise for a graphically violent article that excited him, or if he had somehow pieced together that Chance was responsible.

  Yardley stood under the shower, letting her head rest against the tile in front of her. Her eyes closed, and she felt like she could drift off to sleep right there. When she got out, she put on a robe and then rubbed aloe vera on her face, but it did nothing to alleviate the sting. The steam had fogged the mirror, and she swiped her hand across it, revealing a blurred image of herself. Placing both hands on the sink, she stood there and enjoyed the heat from the steam that permeated the skin on her face.

  When she came out of the bathroom, she jumped and gasped.

  Tara yelped with shock and dropped the bottle of water in her hand.

  “Holy shit! You gave me a freaking heart attack, Mom.”

  Yardley put her hand to her chest, as though physically trying to calm her heart, and took a few deep breaths. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

  “Why were you out so late?”

  She let out a long breath. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going to sit on our balcony and drink wine until I’m drunk.”

  “Can I join you?”

  “No, you may certainly not. Get to bed.”

  “I just gotta pee.”

  Yardley slipped past her as she went into the bathroom. She turned while in the hallway and said, “Tara?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I know, Mom. I love you, too.”

  Yardley pulled out a bottle of wine from the pantry and got a chilled glass from the fridge. She sat out on the balcony and leaned back into her deck chair. The cushions were soft but, she decided, not soft enough. She would be getting softer ones. She would order them from . . .

  Stop.r />
  Her mind was filling the blank spaces between her thoughts so she wouldn’t have to think about what she already knew to be true about the reasons why Angela River had suddenly left town.

  She debated her options for a while. She took a deep breath and knew the only decision she could come to was that she couldn’t come to a decision. So instead, she went inside and got a quarter out of a drawer and then went back to the balcony. Sitting on the deck chair, watching the sand dunes and canyons behind her home, she tossed the quarter into the air and caught it. She opened her hand. Heads.

  She tossed it again, and it was heads again. Letting out a heavy sigh, she placed the quarter on the side table next to her.

  Yardley picked up her phone and dialed the number for the extradition division at the US Attorney’s Office so she could leave a voice mail.

  76

  Baldwin went with Lucas Garrett to the hospital to interview Jude Chance after he’d been cleared medically to have visitors. It wasn’t Baldwin’s case—it was Garrett’s—and he’d have to cover his ass with Young, but he figured the Bureau being seen as involved in the apprehension of the Crimson Lake Executioner would more than make up for any blowback.

  Kyle Jax was standing outside the hospital with a sucker in his mouth.

  “Come to pick the bones clean, Kyle?”

  He smirked. “Just want to make sure the interview goes well. I’m gonna nail this guy and can’t have one of you making some rook mistake like not Mirandizing him properly.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll let you know when we’re done so you can get the credit.”