by Steven James
“And the truth”—now she gave me a diminutive smile, and it lifted me more than anything else had in the last two days—“was something you never even saw coming.”
“Exactly.”
For a moment I thought of darker twists, those in the other direction, in which innocent people you think will survive don’t, or hope that seemed guaranteed disappears in a final dramatic plunge, but I pushed those thoughts aside.
Lien-hua went back to work but a minute later rested her chin in her hands; it was her turn to be deep in thought. “The Reiser case, Pat. Some of the things Jake told me don’t seem to fit.”
“Those are?”
“If the autopsy is correct, Reiser would have already been dead when the eyewitness said she saw him enter his trailer. The date of the unopened mail in his trailer supports that.” She leaned forward. “But if Basque did kill Reiser because we were getting too close, why linger in the area another day after killing Reiser? Or more specifically, why chance getting caught entering his trailer disguised as Reiser when that’s not even where Reiser was killed?”
“Good point.” I drummed my fingers on the desk for a moment. “Hang on. We’re already assuming too much. We don’t know that Basque killed Reiser and we don’t know if it was Basque at the trailer. In the search for truth, it’s only by chance that you can find the right answers without asking the right—”
“Questions,” she inserted, then quoted directly what I’d been planning to say: “So it’s always better to begin with inquiries rather than assertions.” A slight smile. “Yes, I know.”
“I’ve said that before.”
“Once or twice.” She stood, paced toward the window. “Okay, let’s back up for a minute. Is it possible that Reiser wasn’t even Basque’s partner at all, that he was set up for the crimes from the beginning? After all, he was a drifter and an ex-con, the perfect kind of person to lay blame on for a series of crimes like this. He lived in half a dozen different places while those crimes were occurring.”
“No,” I said, “that doesn’t work. Last summer his DNA was matched to that found at four of the original Basque crime scenes fourteen years ago. That’s a long time to sustain framing someone.”
“But the very thing that makes that unlikely also makes it unlikely that Reiser has been Basque’s accomplice all along.”
I looked at her curiously. “Why’s that?”
“Time, Pat. Fourteen years? Could Reiser really have made it that long without leaving any DNA at any other crime scene? Even if Basque was the dominant partner, serial killers almost never go that long between crimes.”
“You can’t just turn it off,” I reflected. She was right. Of all the hundreds of serial killers I’ve studied over the last fifteen years, unless they were incarcerated, only a handful had ever managed to stop committing crimes for more than a few years. A murder spree with Basque, then thirteen years of good behavior? It didn’t fit. “It would be almost unheard of.”
“Right. So think about it—all those years, no evidence left, and then suddenly he reconnects with Basque—who’s smart and meticulous—and Reiser starts leaving his DNA behind again?”
And now we only find news clippings and news coverage footage of the crimes with Basque? Why? If he was a scrapbooker, why only follow Basque’s crimes?
I let the implications sink in. Out the window I noticed a snowmobile approaching the motel. Two people on it, but at this distance I couldn’t tell who they might be.
“But if Basque has a different partner,” I observed, “it’s unbelievable they would have planted another individual’s DNA fourteen years ago and then picked up where they left off.”
“But fourteen years ago when the state of Wisconsin first prosecuted the case, the DNA hadn’t been identified. Could Basque or his partner have somehow recently switched the lab samples to point to Reiser now?”
“I don’t see how anyone could have done that. I’m more involved with this case than anyone, and even I couldn’t have pulled off something like that.”
She went on, undeterred. “But what if the unidentified DNA was never entered into the court records? Or, even if it was, those were all digitized two years ago; if a person had access to the online case files, she could—”
Her phone vibrated on the desk.
“I’ll get it,” I said. With a small flutter of apprehension I picked it up.
A text: “One hour. Woodborough hospital. Lower level. Come alone.”
The hospital? Why the hospital?
I noticed Lien-hua eyeing me inquisitively. “Who’s it from?”
Beyond her, outside in the storm, I identified Sean and Tessa on the snowmobile. My stepdaughter wore a pink snowmobile suit that must have been Amber’s. Pink was in no way Tessa’s favorite color, and it might have been comical if everything else going on right now wasn’t so serious.
“Pat?” Lien-hua indicated toward the phone. “What’s up?”
“It’s a source who might know something about the Pickron murders,” I said honestly. I had until 1:45 to get to the basement of the Woodborough hospital, but the road in front of the motel hadn’t been plowed in hours, and I didn’t have time to wait around for the trail groomer. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I can tell you right now.”
Before she could follow up with another question, I grabbed my coat and left for the lobby to get the thing I would need if I was going to make it to that meeting with Alexei Chekov.
55
I met Sean and Tessa by the front door. Snowmobile helmet off, my stepdaughter’s midnight-black hair swirled endearingly around her shoulders.
Though I was still a little upset that she’d left the Twin Cities against my will, I was relieved to see her, and when she came toward me, I held out my arm to her. “Tessa, I’m so glad you—”
Instead of an embrace, however, she smacked me hard in the arm. Not a friendly nudge at all.
I blinked. “What was that for?”
“Almost getting killed.”
She could really pack a punch. “Keep that in your repertoire in case you need it for some guy sometime.”
She looked at me incredulously. “I’m seriously upset and you’re making light of everything?”
Sean stepped to the other side of the lobby to give us at least a modicum of privacy.
“Listen,” I said to her. “I haven’t seen you all week, and now you just walk in here and—”
“Hang on.” A hand in the air, palm toward me. A teenage girl’s stop sign. “You almost drown, you almost freeze.” Her voice caught. “I have to drive through a complete blizzard . . .” As she struggled to get through her sentence, I could tell she truly was upset. It hadn’t struck me so much yesterday, but she must have been terrified when she heard that I almost died. She falteringly picked up her thought where she’d left off, “And then everywhere I go, everybody’s cooking animals.”
She unzipped the pink snowmobile suit, and it looked like she was going to comment about that too, but instead her jaw quivered slightly and a wide tear formed in her right eye. I stepped forward, took her in my arms.
“Hey, it’s okay.”
“You seriously cannot die on me.”
“I won’t,” I said, although I was aware I was promising something that was beyond my control.
As anxious as I was to get going, I could tell that right now I needed to be here for her, at least for a minute or two. “I didn’t mean to make light of anything.”
At last she stepped away and quickly brushed her hand across her face to dry her eyes. “Yeah, I know.” She tweaked her hair back. Tried to smile.
“I’m serious.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, because I just need you to—”
“Don’t overdo it,” she said. “It’ll get weird.”
“Right.”
“I’m just . . . I’m glad you’re still here.”
“That makes two of us.”
“But I have to say, jumping into a rive
r in subzero weather? That is way off the screen. Even for you.” Her gaze drifted toward my feet. “So, frostbite?” she said uneasily. “Any toes missing or anything?”
“Still intact.”
“Good. ’Cause that would have totally creeped me out.”
Pat, you need to get going.
I turned to Sean. “Thanks for bringing her over.”
“No problem. It’s good to see you on your feet.” He handed me a bundle of manila envelopes. “The papers you gave me yesterday at the sawmill.”
Donnie’s personnel files and time cards. “I appreciate it.”
A second passed.
How to do this.
I turned to Tessa again. “Listen, I’m really glad to see you, but—”
“I said that’s enough.” She spoke softly, and I noticed that she was eyeing the young man working behind the counter. I hadn’t really noticed before, but he was in his midtwenties, with ruffled hair, dark, deep-set eyes, and a cute, sly sort of grin. He’d been checking her out too and abruptly averted eye contact when he saw me look at him.
Tessa always goes for the older guys and doesn’t always show prudence when it comes to vetting dates, boyfriends, on-the-spot crushes.
“Come here.” I led her to the room beside the lobby, and when we were alone and the guy at the counter was out of sight and wouldn’t distract her, I said, “I need to go somewhere for a little bit. It’s very important, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She looked at me quizzically. “I just got here and—by the way, were you limping just now?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I turned my ankle a little yesterday. It’s no big deal. So, I’m just saying—”
“You’re leaving.”
“Yes. This isn’t about us. This is—this was from before.”
“Then why did I even come?” She didn’t sound angry, just confused. “Why’d I have to go and ride a snowmobile all the way over here in this weather if you were just gonna leave as soon as I got here?”
Obviously I hadn’t even known she was on her way, but that wasn’t really something I needed to point out at the moment.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I repeated. The words were true enough, but I was also aware that if I did head out with Alexei to look for the Pickron killers, I might be gone for hours.
“This has to do with the case?”
“Yes.”
She scrutinized me. “Agent Vanderveld’s here, right? So have him check it out.” She knew I’d been working with Jake on the Reiser case in Merrill, so it wasn’t a master feat of deduction to guess that he was here.
“This time it has to be me.”
“Why?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Really.” Ice had crept into her voice, and I was getting disoriented by our conversation’s penduluming swing of emotions. “Just a minute ago you were telling me how glad you were to see me and now you’re just taking off.”
“This doesn’t have to do with you.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Tessa—”
“You almost died and I would have been alone.”
“I wish I could stay here, right now, with you, but I have to—look, we’ll talk through everything later, okay?”
She started for the lobby. “Right.”
“Hang on a sec.”
She spun. “What? I just agreed with you.”
“Trust me on this. Okay?”
“Trust you?”
“You can stay here with Sean and Amber.”
“End of discussion, right? Is that it?”
“Don’t be like this, Tessa.”
She turned on her heels and swept out of the room, and I followed, ready to confront her again, but then I saw that Lien-hua had entered the lobby. Her eyes flicked from Tessa to me to Tessa.
“Hey, Tessa,” she said.
“Lien-hua. I didn’t know you were here.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” Tessa strode to the far side of the lobby and then stared, arms folded, out the window. The guy behind the counter looked toward her, then glanced my way and quickly went back to texting someone on his iPhone.
Oh, boy.
Salvage this and then get out of here.
Sean and Lien-hua said nothing, and I realized they’d never met. I quickly introduced them. “Sean, this is Lien-hua; Lien-hua, Sean.” They shook hands amiably, but their attention was obviously still on me and Tessa.
“Sean,” I said, “I need to borrow your sled.”
“It’s Amber’s,” he told me needlessly.
“Right.”
He must have been able to tell I was anxious to leave because he didn’t argue, just handed me his helmet. “Nothing impulsive, okay? It’s the only snowmobile we have left.”
“I promise.”
I gave Lien-hua the personnel files and time cards that Sean had brought with him. “Take a close look at the date Donnie started working at the sawmill,” I said. “And check to see if and when he clocked out on the day of the murders and if he received any phone calls that day at the mill prior to leaving.”
When I mentioned the phone calls, Sean reached into his pocket. “Oh yeah. Almost forgot.”
He passed my cell to me, but I realized that Alexei had Lien-hua’s number, not mine, so I would need to keep hers in case he texted me again.
I gave her my phone. “I’ll get yours back to you as soon as I can.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have an errand to run.” Then I said to Sean, “Amber’s in room 104. Can you guys keep an eye on Tessa?”
“Absolutely.”
After reading Amber’s note this morning, I wondered when she was going to tell Sean about leaving him. I hoped she’d have the good sense to wait until Tessa and I were out of town.
Go, Pat. You need to move.
“I have to go, Raven,” I called. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She was quiet.
“Tessa.”
She didn’t turn. “Sure.”
Wonderful.
“Lien-hua.” I motioned toward the door. “Can you come here a sec?”
We stepped outside, and I held out my hand. “I need your gun.”
“What’s going on here?”
“Mine’s in a snowbank by the Chippewa—”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I can’t—”
Her hands went to her hips. “Are you going to the ELF site by yourself?”
“No, it’s just . . . Please . . .” For the second time in two minutes I said it: “You have to trust me.”
“Trust you.”
“Yes. You trust me, don’t you?”
The hesitation in her reply made me think of last night when she’d walked in on me and Amber, but then she took off her holster and her Glock and handed them to me. “Be careful and call me if you need me. Don’t shut me out.”
“That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”
I wanted so badly to hold her, feel her arms encircling me, gain strength from her embrace, the scent of her presence, but I knew things were still tenuous between us. Instead, I placed my hand gently on her arm. “You’re the person who matters more to me than anyone else.” As I said the words I realized they were true to an extent I’d never even been aware of before. Yes, I cared fiercely for Tessa, loved her in a protective, parental way, but with Lien-hua I had to acknowledge that my feelings were the deepest, most intimate kind. “You know that, right?”
“Yes.” The answer didn’t come as promptly as I would’ve hoped, but there was no uncertainty in it.
After a moment’s debate I gave her a light kiss on the cheek and whispered, “I love you.”
“You too,” she said softly.
And in her words I found a shot of courage and a renewed sense of hope that we were going to work things out after all.
She turned and went back into the lo
bby, and as the door opened I heard Jake’s voice. “Where’s he going?”
“Out,” she answered.
Then it swung shut, and I limped down the path to the snowmobile to go meet Alexei Chekov in the basement of the hospital I’d been in yesterday, recovering from trying to save the man he’d thrown into the Chippewa River.
I only hoped I would be more successful saving Kayla than I’d been when I tried to save Bryan Ellory.
56
On the computer screen in front of her, Solstice monitored the progress of three of her mercenaries.
Forty minutes ago Tempest, Eclipse, and Typhoon had skied toward the east entrance to the national forest, where they were now preparing to take down the telephone lines that led into the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest.
Meanwhile, in the corner of the room, Cane and his two Eco-Tech hard-liners were reviewing the speech he was going to record after the team had taken over the station. Seated at a table beside them, Gale and Equator were online, keeping tabs on the JWICS chatter through Terry’s back doors. Nothing so far on subs or the ELF station. Cirrus was analyzing the base schematics, calculating the most effective placement for the TATP ordnance.
Solstice had thought the team members might be troubled about Clifton White’s or Tsunami’s demise, but everyone seemed to accept that the mission took precedence over any personal attachments. In fact, Solstice had a feeling that seeing her decisive response to incompetence and insubordination had served a solidifying effect on their loyalty.
Or maybe it was all about the money to them after all. The best and most reliable motivator on earth—a bigger bottom line.
The three operatives in the forest all wore cameras attached to their headsets, and now, through the video signal relayed to her computer, Solstice saw that Tempest was ascending a telephone pole.
A few residential customers would be affected by the downed telephone lines, and she was confident that soon enough the scattered users would contact the phone company on their cell phones, and the disruption in service would be reasonably blamed on the storm.
The staff at the ELF base would no doubt use their satellite uplink to get an update on the disruption in landline service and have no immediate cause for concern.
