Sara was standing by Smoke outside D. She grabbed my shoulders. “Oh my god, Corky!”
I felt my body getting limp as the fuel I’d been running on finally ran dry.
Smoke gave me a light slap on the back. “Good job, partner. If Leder wasn’t dead, I’d make sure we’d send his sorry ass to prison for a whole lotta years.”
“And I’d help,” Sara said.
“You know what struck me? Neither one of them questioned why we had a camera in the cemetery,” I said.
“Scary, isn’t it? Kids nowadays are growing up with no expectation of privacy,” Smoke said.
I thought about that a moment. “One positive thing—they gave us a possible motive.”
“Yes, but I don’t think the girls did it.”
“No, I don’t either. But if he did it to them, he probably did it to others.”
“We’ll keep pushing, but not tonight.” Smoke looked at his watch. “After eleven. My bed is beckoning me.”
“Yeah. Mine, too,” I said.
“Mine three,” Sara said, and I gave her arm a mild cuff.
CHAPTER 22
The weekend was a welcomed open book. Saturday, Sara and I spent a lazy morning reading, talking, checking e-mail messages. After she left at noon, I paid my bills then went into Oak Lea to buy a new cell phone and run through the long list of errands that had piled up. I stopped by Mom’s shop for a short visit, went for a needed thinking walk through the city park by Bison Lake then drove through Lakeside Cemetery.
I stopped by Gage Leder’s grave and thought of all the terrible things he’d done to people. He was a man who had escaped prosecution and prison time in life, but could not escape whatever judgment awaited him after death. But it was still our job to find out who had caused his death, and had staked his body out in Nodings’ soybean field.
Sunday was a day for church and yard work. Eric phoned on his way back from his parents’ Northwoods cabin to say he’d had a nice weekend and would be back in Oak Lea by early evening.
I had spent a nearly perfect two days. Then Sara called, and what she said changed everything. “Corky, turn on the six o’clock news. Channel seven.”
I was in the kitchen and grabbed the remote for the small television on a counter. I pushed on and zero-seven.
“. . . Langley Parker was being held in the Hennepin County Jail in connection with the murders and dismemberments of two women. His trial was set to begin later in the year. Authorities are investigating, but at this time believe a female corrections officer aided in his escape. He is considered armed and extremely dangerous.”
“Are you there?” Sara’s voice reminded me I still had the phone to my ear.
“I’m not processing this. Langley Parker escaped? It’s not possible.” I turned the volume down on the set.
“Oh my god! I can’t believe it. They don’t know when it happened for sure, but it was sometime this afternoon. They should have called you right away, since you were one of his victims.”
The one that survived. My phone beeped. “Sara, I got the sheriff calling me on the other line. Talk to you later.” I pressed the call button. “Sheriff. You heard about Parker?”
“That’s why I’m calling. Hennepin called the office to inform all of us, and you in particular. Communications got ahold of me right away. I called Hennepin back, said I’d do the official victim notification, save them a call.”
Victim notification. “How in the world did he escape? They said on the news a corrections officer may have helped him.”
“They have the name of an officer they believe is with him. They say there’s a minute possibility Parker had some sort of weapon, forced her to help. But more likely, she was in on the escape. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never figure out how that happens: an officer endangering the public—people we’re bound to protect—to help an inmate escape, especially the likes of a lunatic like Parker.”
“I don’t get it either. At all. The fact that he brutally tortured and killed two women should be reason enough to stay as far away from him as possible. Why would anyone, and especially another woman, help him?”
“He’s a psychopath. He must have figured out a way to get her over to the dark side, either through threats or promises. Maybe both. He’s had seven months to convince her. In any event, Hennepin County wants you to be on guard. And it goes without saying, so do I.”
I sunk down on a barstool by my counter. “They don’t think he’d come back here?”
“They talked to the FBI first thing, so they could post his escape on their Crime Alert page. And they also talked to that profiler who helped us. Kent Erley.”
“What’d Erley say?”
“He said there was a possibility Parker would return to Winnebago County.”
“No.” I stood back up and started pacing.
“Maybe you should stay somewhere else until he’s caught.”
“Did Erley think Parker would even think of coming after me? Actually risk capture like that?”
“He said it’s possible. As they say, forewarned is forearmed.”
“Armed is right. Thanks to Parker, I almost never leave home without a gun anymore. Either my service weapon or my Smith and Wesson. And I keep my doors locked. And I have Queenie to alert me if anyone is near the house.”
“You’re cautious, I know that.”
“On the news it said he escaped sometime this afternoon. Did Hennepin give you any better information?”
“They know it happened on first shift. The housing officer who delivered his lunch said he saw Parker in the flesh. Then on one o’clock rounds, the same officer said Parker was in bed, covered up. But he could see a little of his face. One-thirty, two-o’clock, rounds same thing, except he couldn’t see his face. Well, the officer started to get suspicious because Parker hadn’t changed positions, and he didn’t see signs of breathing. He called for back-up and they entered his cell. No Parker.”
“They’re supposed to see flesh or movement on each inmate on every cell check. So the officer probably screwed up on the one-thirty round.”
“That’s what they think. He escaped shortly after the one o’clock round, after pretending he was sleeping. By being almost completely covered, with just a little of his face showing, he probably thought he’d fool the officer into thinking he had pulled the covers up even higher the next time he came by. Parker was likely hoping for even more time than he got.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Promise me that until Parker is caught, you won’t go running alone on your road.”
“Sheriff—”
“I’ll change that to an order if I have to.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll promise you that, at least for a week.”
“Okay, if it takes more than a week, we’ll revisit it then. Take care of yourself. And that’s not the sheriff talking. It’s your future stepdad.”
Stepdad. “I will, Denny.”
After we hung up, I called Sara back. “I know they have to warn you and all, but if I were Langley Parker, Winnebago County is the last place I’d go. The whole department will be gunning for him,” Sara said, after I relayed everything Twardy had said.
“The sheriff said, ‘forewarned is forearmed.’”
“Very true, Corky, and you know it. Parker’s smart, but they’ll find him before long.”
“Yeah, the FBI is putting it on their Crime Alert, and by now every law enforcement agency in Minnesota has been alerted. The whole country will know before long.”
“You’re welcome to come stay at my house until this is over.”
While we talked, I wandered through the house closing all the main level windows that were open and checking the locks on the doors. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine here.”
I spent the next hour fielding phone calls from Eric, Smoke, other friends, and colleagues who were all stunned Langley Parker had escaped. I left a message for Tara and Dean Engen, the property owners where the dismembered b
ody of one of Parker’s victims had been found. I wanted to give them the opportunity to express any concerns they had about the escape. Their home had once belonged to Parker’s grandparents, but that was another story.
Profiler Kent Erley had told us Parker would re-offend again and again until he was stopped. And he was stopped. And incarcerated until now. It was impossible for me to believe a man with Parker’s intelligence would return to the county where he had been apprehended. When Hannibal Lector, the psychopathic cannibal in The Silence of the Lambs, escaped from prison, he headed to a South Seas island to avoid capture. Langley Parker may have obtained falsified identification papers and was on a plane to Timbuktu for all we knew. He had an estimated sixty minute head start on the authorities, and seven months to plan his escape and disappearance.
I phoned my mother and grandparents, asking them to make sure their doors were locked, in case. I had no idea if Parker knew who my family was or where they lived, but suspected he did, and I needed to alert them, to be certain they were safe.
I was in my home office at the computer, reading the news about Parker online, when the doorbell rang. It startled me to my feet. I ran upstairs to retrieve the Glock from my bed stand then back down to the front door. “Yes?” I called to the other side.
“Corinne, it’s me. Eric.”
When I opened the door, he glanced from my face to the gun I held at my side. “You think Langley Parker would ring the doorbell?” He smiled and stepped into the house.
My smile was more sheepish than his. “Guess not. But who knows? I was in the back of the house and didn’t hear your car. I didn’t want to make myself a target by peeking out the front window to see who was there.”
He softly tweaked my cheek with his fingers and thumb. “I’ll call next time.” He glanced around. “Where’s your dog? Queenie?”
“At a sleepover.”
“No, really.”
“Really. We visited Gramps earlier today and he loves her so much, I didn’t have the heart to take her away from him. I let her stay sometimes when Gramps is especially lonely.”
“Have you thought about getting him a puppy of his own?”
“Yes, but Mom would end up doing most of the work, I’m afraid. It’d be hard for Gramps with his health the way it is. He doesn’t get around very well anymore.” I moved my eyes to my gun. “I’ll go put this away.”
Eric was waiting in the living room when I returned and we sat down together on the couch. “So the man who brought us together, indirectly speaking, is back in the headlines.”
Of Langley Parker’s two known murder victims, one of them had been found in Winnebago County. Parker had flagged me as his next victim. He had knocked me out and kidnapped me, but when I regained consciousness, I was able to fend him off until help arrived.
Eric was working at his father’s successful law firm in Minneapolis when he started closely following Langley Parker’s case. His desire to have Parker brought to justice made him realize his true calling was in criminal law as a prosecuting attorney. When Winnebago County had an opening for an assistant county attorney, Eric applied and was hired. He had been there less than six months, but in that short time gained the reputation as a nose-to-the-grindstone, hardworking truth seeker. I figured he would be the head county attorney someday.
I picked up a pillow and laid it on my lap. “It was bad enough thinking I’d have to face him in court in a few months. But knowing he has stolen back his freedom, even for a little while, absolutely floors me.”
“That goes without saying for me, too. For a lot of people.” He drew his right leg up and dropped his ankle onto his left knee. “Switching gears here, how’s the Leder case coming?”
I punched the pillow with my folded hands and told him about what his daughter, Morgan, and former step-daughter, Lea, had disclosed.
“That’s sick. Why wasn’t he turned in?”
“We—everyone in the sheriff’s department—ask ourselves similar questions about perverts every day. It’s that victim guilt thing where they feel it’s their fault somehow, or at least partly their fault.”
“And since many of his victims were likely family members, that component needs to be factored in.”
We sat silently for some time.
“They think he might come back here.”
“Who? Parker?” Eric’s hazel eyes darkened.
I nodded.
“Why?”
“Unfinished business.”
“They don’t mean you?”
“They do.”
He shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”
I shrugged.
Eric jumped up and walked back and forth. “Corinne, I feel awful. I was honestly kidding when I made that stupid comment about Parker when I got here. I know how careful you are living out here alone.”
I stood, stepped in behind him, and put my arms around his waist. “It’s okay, Eric. I don’t want to talk about that monster anymore.”
He turned to face me and moved his hands behind my back to my shoulder blades. “I’d feel better if I stayed here with you tonight.” When I started to protest, he added, “On the couch.” He kissed my forehead then his lips traveled to mine. “Unless, you are ready to take that next step.” He deepened his kiss and he held me tighter.
I turned my face slightly to speak. “Not quite ready for that yet. We’ve only been dating a few weeks, and I know that’s an eon to a lot of people, but I’m one of those old-fashioned girls. Sex is a really big deal for me.”
“It’s a really big deal for me, too.”
His earnest, pleading look was out of character and made me smile. “Back to the original offer. Thank you, but I will be fine. I’ll even lock my bedroom door for added security. And I keep my gun next to my bed.
“You have to be at work early in the morning, and if you stayed here you wouldn’t sleep a wink. You’d hear all the sounds that houses make, the ones you don’t notice when you’re in your own home. You’d think every little noise was someone trying to get in. You’d be wandering around checking on things and I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Thank you, though.”
“You sound like you’ve been there before.”
“We all have.” I kissed him and pushed him toward the door. “Rest well, Eric.”
He gave me a last kiss. “You too, Corinne.”
The house felt empty when he left, and after the sun had set and the sky darkened, I was on edge. I drew the blinds and triple checked the locks on the door. I intended to get a home security system, but had yet to figure out how extensive and expensive I was willing to go.
When I’d seen and heard enough news on Langley Parker’s escape, I grabbed a book Sara had recommended and loaned me, went upstairs, and drew a hot bath. I added my lavender salts and climbed in to soak and read.
A popping, pinging sound against the window and on the roof made me sit up straight to listen. Rain. Great. Rain was not my friend when I was listening for unusual sounds. At least I had a good, light-hearted book and would read until morning if I couldn’t sleep.
Damn that evil Langley Parker.
It was only nine o’clock when I got into my pajamas and climbed into bed with the book. The heartwarming adventures of the characters in the story helped, but did not completely block out thoughts of Langley Parker. I had to believe his capture was imminent.
My phone rang and when I dropped my book, I realized how anxious I was.
“Where are you?” It was Smoke.
“Home.”
“I’m sitting in your driveway and it’s so dark in there, I thought maybe you were out, or better yet, spending the night elsewhere.”
“No, I’m here. Reading in bed.”
“Can you let me in?”
“Smoke, you don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do, for my sake.”
“I’ll be right down. I’ll open the garage door so you can drive in and stay dry.” I hung up the phone and grabbed a ligh
t robe from the closet, then went to the garage door off the kitchen, opened it, and pushed the automatic garage door opener.
The burden on my heart lightened when Smoke pulled his vehicle in and I closed the door behind it. “So that’s how you prevent the world from knowing who spends the night here,” he said when he climbed out of his SUV.
I smiled and shook my head. “So you think Special Agent Erley could be right?”
“It’s the ‘could be’ that brought me here.”
I went into the kitchen. Smoke stopped on the top step, pulled his shoes off, and joined me by the counter. “Want something to drink or anything?” I offered.
“Nah. Thanks. I was in Little Mountain at my nephew’s baseball game when we talked on the phone earlier. I would have come then, but the sheriff assured me he had deputies posted in unmarked cars on both ends of your road. So I went with my brother’s family to grab a bite after the game.”
“The sheriff has me under protection?”
“A little extra precaution.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t want you to know he was as worried as he is.”
“Parker knows we’re all watching for him.”
Smoke nodded. “And if he’s half as smart as everyone thinks he is, he’s headed for Canada or some far-away place by now.” Smoke leaned against the counter, stretched out his legs, and crossed his left ankle over his right. “Ortiz and LeVasseur will be standing guard and cruising down your road from time to time until eleven. Holman and Maple will take over from there. They’ll call me if they see anything suspicious. It helps there’s so little traffic on your road.”
“I guess it does make me feel better, knowing they’re out there. And that you’re here.”
Smoke reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “Go back to your book. I’ll make myself at home. Your couch is like a second bed for me.”
Smoke had slept on my couch only once before, so I raised my eyebrows. “I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket. . . . But if you’re not quite ready to go to sleep, I’d rather talk to you than read my book.”
The Noding Field Mystery Page 21
