by Peggy Dulle
“Then what are they?”
“Security people.”
“Men who fight for money?”
“Sure.”
“That's the definition of mercenaries.”
“Okay,” William said, frowned, and then continued, “so they're mercenaries. That doesn't mean they aren't nice people. And the Jackal's right, I can't be trusted to play fair.”
I shook my head.
William's cell phone rang. He answered it, listened and smiled. “They found her. She's unconscious, but alive.”
“Thank God.” A wave of relief swept over me, as if I had held my breath since the Jackal had taken Sheryl. At least I wouldn't be responsible for her death, too.
William went back to his phone. “Okay.” He closed his phone. “They're taking her to St. Luke's Hospital.”
“I'll tell John and Jake.” I walked toward the door
William stopped me and put his hand on my arm. I glared at him, “What?”
“I'll call Matthew.”
“Thanks.” I nodded and left the room. How would Matthew react to Sheryl being found? When I had been taken, he had abandoned me in a strange city with William, a man I totally despised. This time, would he run to her rescue? Okay, I knew it shouldn't, but that just pissed me off.
I found Jake and John talking to the chief and gave them the good news. John said he would go to the hospital. Jake headed back to the hotel to catch up on the sleep he hadn't gotten in the last few days. He said he would check on Sheryl later in the afternoon.
As I walked back toward the conference room, my phone rang. I leaned against the wall, and took the call.
“I told you I'd play fair this time.”
“That's great. We appreciate it.”
“It just wasn't as much fun playing with William as it has been with you.”
“Sorry, he's such a fuddy-duddy.”
The Jackal laughed. “I can't believe this is coming from the woman who slept with him while she was still married.”
How did he know that? “It's in the past. Frankly, I don't care that much for the man these days.”
“I'm sorry. I wouldn't have asked for him if I'd known you didn't feel the same about him. I tried the best I could. I figured if I couldn't get you and Matthew back together, maybe it would work out with William.”
“Thanks for nothing.” Why the hell did I banter with this madman? I stood away from the wall. It was time to end this conversation.
“Don't be bitter, Connie.”
“I'm not. I'm just tired. Why don't you just come to my house in Arroyo? We can sit down, have a beer, and talk.”
“Tempting, but I don't think so. How about you and I play a new game?”
“I don't want to play. I want to go home.” I couldn't believe I actually whined at a serial killer. But I was so sick and tired of him, I could scream!
“Yes, a new game. I'll think of one and give you a call.”
“Try and call before you kill anybody next time.”
“I'll try. Have a good day, Connie.”
“Don't kill anybody today.”
He laughed and hung up.
What a nice civil conversation I just had with a man who had killed over twenty-four people. My life was weird!
My phone rang again. God, I hoped the Jackal hadn't found a new game already.
Chapter 23
“Hello.” I answered tentatively.
“Hey, Chief.”
It was Bob. Back to my own problems. The Arroyo scene flashed before my vision. The bag of bones, Doc, Bob, my grandpa. For a moment the longing for home overwhelmed me.
“What did Dr. Cain say?”
“The extra bones came from two adolescent females. In fact, the two skull pieces we found at first are part of the leftovers.”
“We still don't know who they belong to? They didn't fit anywhere?”
“Nope.”
“And he still thinks the leftover bones are twenty to thirty years old?”
“Oh no, that's another change, he's refined that time frame. He did some extra tests, don't ask me what, and the adolescent bones are definitely closer to the twenty-year mark.”
“Okay. See if Dr. Cain knows a forensic artist.”
“What do they do?” Bob asked.
“Draw a picture of a face based on the bone structure.”
“They can do that?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I'll give him a call.”
“Thanks, Bob.”
“Are you coming home soon?”
“Probably.”
“Good. I'm tired of being chief.”
“The bones getting to you?”
“No, the Larsens' oldest daughter, Samantha, ran away again and they want me to talk to her.”
“What's the problem this time?”
“According to her parents, she wants to go out on dates.”
“Well, she is fifteen.”
“I don't like dealing with family problems.”
“I know, Bob. Go over and talk to her anyway and talk to her parents, too.”
“Why the parents?
“Explain to them that Samantha's a good kid and should be trusted. Maybe she can go on some group dates. That should be okay with the parents and a step in the right direction for Samantha.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes.” I hesitated, then, “I'll be on the first flight home I can get.”
“Maybe you can talk to Samantha and her parents.”
“No, you do it. It will be good experience for you.” I hung up before he could complain any more. Then I dialed John's cell phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, John. I'm just letting you know that I'm headed home. I've got some things that need my attention there.” I told him about my conversation with the Jackal.
“It seems like he's given up on writing notes, so if you hear from him again, call me.”
“I will, John. I'll stop by and see Sheryl this afternoon and then take an evening flight to Arroyo.”
“Okay, Connie. Thanks for your help.”
“I wasn't that much help.”
“Yes, you were.”
“Would you say goodbye to Jake, Ed, and William for me?”
“Sure, if you want me to.”
“I need to get home.”
“Okay, Connie.”
“Is Matthew on his way to Riverbend?”
“Yes. I got a call from him a few minutes ago. He left as soon as he heard Sheryl had been taken so he’ll be here in an hour or so.”
“That's good,” I said. “Goodbye, John.”
“Goodbye, Connie.”
I hung up. Matthew was on his way to see his girlfriend. William had his fiancée. And I needed to go home. I walked out of the station and into the afternoon sunshine. A patrol car pulled out of the lot and I flagged it down.
Ed rolled down his window. “Hey, Connie.”
“Can you give me a ride back to my hotel?”
“Sure.” He unlocked the door and I opened it. His patrol car was as neat as he was.
“Thanks,” I said, as I closed the door and put on my seat belt.
“You're welcome. What's the next move on the Jackal case?”
“Nothing at the moment. He called but hasn't set any new game in motion. I'm on my way back home. I've got things to handle in my own town right now.”
“I hope he picks another city next time.”
“Oh, he will. He's never hit the same place twice.”
“I guess I can be thankful for that.”
He pulled into the hotel's circular driveway. “Well, Connie, it was nice working with you.”
I opened the door and smiled. “You too, Ed.”
“Goodbye.”
“Bye.” I waved and walked into the hotel.
Five minutes later, I was packed. It was after three o'clock and my stomach growled. I called for a tuna sandwich to go from the cafe downstairs and made reservations for a six o'clock flight back to Ar
royo. That would give me time to eat, go and see Sheryl, and get to the airport early for all the security checks. Before 9-11, you could arrive ten minutes before your flight and still get on. Now, you spent hours in lines and couldn't even take nail clippers with you.
The valet called me a cab, and while I waited I ate the tuna sandwich. It was four inches thick and the tuna oozed out of the sides as I tried to eat it. The cafe had sent along a bag of potato chips and I devoured them too.
By the time I finished, the cab pulled up. It took me to St. Luke's Hospital, a six-story building with a three-story wing on either side. When I came into Sheryl's third-floor room, John stood by her bed.
She motioned me to come in. “Hi, Connie. Come on in.”
John put his hand on her arm. “I'll see you later, Sheryl.”
“Thanks for stopping by, John,” Sheryl said.
“You're welcome.” John smiled at me and left the room.
I walked over to Sheryl's bed. “How's your head?”
“Hurts like a bitch.” She smiled and then grimaced.
“I remember the headache. Tell them to give you some good drugs that will knock you out. That's the only way I could get rid of the damn thing.”
“I've been hit with a stun gun before. It never felt like this.”
“Yeah, I know. I think the Jackal made his stun gun a little stronger. Couple that electrical jolt with the drugs he gave you and the result is one hell of a headache. That's what my doctors thought. Did you sustain any other injuries?”
“No.” She shook her head, grimaced and held it tight.
“How'd he snag you?”
“My stupidity.”
“What happened?”
“I called the hotel on my way back from the station and ordered room service. I was famished and wanted to eat before I slept for a few hours. When I got to the room, my food sat outside on a tray. I took it in and gobbled down my cheeseburger. Before I finished the burger, I started to feel the effects of the drugs he'd obviously put in it. Then I felt the electrical spike through my body. I was out cold in a matter of minutes. When I woke up, I was bound, gagged, and blindfolded.”
“Did he talk to you?”
“Nope. I never heard or saw him. I felt a prick on my arm, probably a hypodermic needle full of knock-out drugs. A few seconds later, I was unconscious again. The next thing I knew, I woke up in this bed.”
“John told you what happened on our side.”
She smiled. “Yes, he told me about William and his soldiers.”
“It was very funny, especially when the helicopter arrived and the armed men jumped out. It was like a scene out of a bad movie.”
“John said William seemed over the top about my kidnapping.”
“Yes, his voice had a tone I’ve never heard before.”
“That's weird. I hadn't worked with him since the original Jackal case. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's nice that he was concerned and brought in his own men. But it seemed out of character.”
“It was. I've never seen him that angry before.”
“Well, you would know.”
“Not anymore.” I shook my head.
“What ever happened to the two of you?” Sheryl asked.
“I went back home. We stopped seeing each other. It was over.”
“I was always curious as to who broke it off, you or him.”
I thought about that for a moment. No words had ever been spoken to break off our relationship. It had just ended.
“There really wasn't anything to break up. I set the ground rules when we first got together: no strings or commitment, and when it was done, we'd just walk away. And that's what I did. I went home. He stayed in D.C. Long distance relationships don't usually work out.”
She nodded.
I put my hand on her arm. “I'm glad you're okay.”
Sheryl smiled. “Thanks, me too.”
I glanced at my watch. It was after four. “I've got to go, Sheryl.”
“Thanks for stopping by.”
I nodded, picked up the suitcase I had set by the door, and left her room. As I left the hospital, Matthew entered. His usual crisply ironed suit looked rumpled. In fact, he looked like he had aged a decade since the last time I saw him. He managed a small smile and headed toward me. I should be mad at him for flying to Sheryl's side, but part of me still cared about him and it made me sad to think how he was hurting. We gave each other a tentative hug.
“How's she doing?” Matthew asked.
“She's okay.”
“Thanks for saving her, Connie.”
“It wasn't me, Matthew. You have William to thank. He figured out the clue and I think his soldiers deterred the Jackal from killing Sheryl.”
“I'm indebted to him, again.” Matthew shook his head and then I heard him whisper, “I hate that man.”
I didn't know what to say. I put my hand on his arm. “Forget about William. He doesn't matter. Go up and take care of Sheryl.”
His eyes filled with tears. I wasn't sure who they were for, Sheryl or me. “I'm so sorry, Connie.”
I stepped toward him and we gave each other a big long hug. My heart ached for him, and me, and the marriage that hadn't worked in spite of the fact we loved each other so much. Tears ran down my cheeks. I brushed them with the back of my hand and then pushed away from him.
“It's okay, Matthew.” I tilted my head toward the hospital. “Go up and be with Sheryl. She's a great woman.”
He nodded. “Yeah, she is.”
He walked toward the hospital door and I let him go. It seemed like I did that a lot. Let go. Before I could call for a cab, one pulled up and Jake got out. He was in the same disheveled suit from earlier and his face was pulled tight in a huge frown.
“Are you trying to sneak away without saying goodbye?”
“Not me,” I said.
He turned and spoke to the cab driver, who turned off his engine and parked. “You're a liar, Connie.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “That's rude,” I teased.
“I call them like I see them.”
“I've got problems at home I've got to deal with.”
“I'm sure you do, but that doesn't mean you can slink out of here without saying goodbye.”
“Fine, Dad. I've forgotten all the fine manners you taught me.” I grinned.
He frowned. “I am not quite old enough to be your dad, Connie.”
“Yeah, but you sound like him.” I sat down on the steps of the hospital and put my head in my hands. Jake dropped down beside me.
“I'm sorry, Connie. I was just kidding you. What's the matter?”
I shrugged. “I'm fine.”
“There's that damn word again.”
I shook my head. “Leave me alone, Jake.”
“I think you need a stiff drink, possibly a shoulder to cry on, and maybe another story.”
“I have a plane to catch.”
“Perfect.” He stood up. “I'll take you to the airport. I've got friends there. We can have a drink in the bar.”
He grabbed my bag and stormed toward the cab. He motioned to the cab driver, who started his engine. I didn't want to talk to the man, I didn't need a shoulder to cry on and if I had one drink, I might not stop. It was all a bad idea, but I ran to catch up with him and yelled, “Wait for me.”
Within a few minutes on the freeway, we hit traffic. The cab driver complained that the freeways were as bad as those in L.A., Jake kept trying to talk to me, and I deliberately stared out the window and ignored them both.
But Jake was right about the airport. He motioned to a few people, showed his badge and mine and it took only a few minutes to get through security. Five minutes later we sat at a bar across from my boarding gate with two margaritas in front of us.
He took a long swig of his drink. “Okay, Connie. Spill your guts.”
I sipped my drink. “Nothing to say.”
“Oh, yes there is. What's going on with you and William?”
�
��Not a thing. He has a fiancée and, I assume, is getting married.”
“Does that make you mad?”
“Not really.” I shrugged. “He's got his life and I've got mine.”
“Connie, you need to get mad about something.”
“Why?”
“Let me see. You get kidnapped, gutted, and buried alive, your husband abandons you, your lover abandons you, you discard the career you love, your mother gets cancer, your dad dies, and then your mother moves out of your family home and gets a condo. One of those events would make anyone spitting mad, but you're calm and you just let it roll off of you.”
“Isn't that a good thing? I deal well with adversity.”
“No, Connie. You don't deal with it at all.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Did you ever deal with things or is this just since you were kidnapped?”
I thought for a moment before I answered. I was the kid who walked away from a fight, but I always thought that was because it was the right thing to do. I couldn't remember any time that I got really angry at anyone. Maybe it wasn't in my nature. I shook my head at Jake. “No, I just don't get mad.”
“That's not what I asked. Do you ever deal with anything?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know how they teach us about the steps to grieving?”
“Sure: denial, anger, bargaining, compromise, acceptance. Right?”
“Yes. Well, you skip the first four and jump to acceptance.”
“Well, some people would think that was a good quality.”
“It could be, I suppose. Except in your case, I figure you've got so much denial and anger stored up, that someday you're going to explode or implode.”
I laughed. “I am not.”
“Oh, yes, you are. And I personally don't want to be in the line of fire when you do.”
“Humph!” I snorted, picked up my drink, and finished it.
Jake signaled for the waitress. “That's my girl. Let's have another.”
“Fine.” I handed the waitress my empty glass.
I was not much of a drinker, so after two drinks, I was seriously feeling the alcohol. And fate being what it was: a bitch, that's when I saw William walk by the bar. Actually, stomping was a better description. And he had a scowl on his face.
Jake called out to him, “Hey, William.”
He whipped his head around and saw us. His scowl turned to a serious frown as he walked over to our table and looked directly at me. “Nice of you to stop in and say goodbye before you left, Constance.”
