“Damn. How’d she pull off the antifreeze bit?”
“She kept it simple.” Waverly leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “The tapes showed her following Amborn to the food court. She got in line right behind her and must’ve listened to her place her order, then she ordered the same drink—same size. The food court’s tape shows her setting her bags down and taking a bottle out of her pocket. The antifreeze must’ve been in there. She kept her back to the camera, but it stands to reason that’s when she added the antifreeze to the drink.”
Ray put his coffee down. “How’d she make the switch?”
“Once Amborn sat down at a table, she walked over with the cup and a sandwich container in her hands. She made a big show of fumbling around with the shopping bags hanging on her arms. When she got next to Amborn’s table, she dropped the sandwich—surprise, surprise—and while Amborn bent down to pick it up for her, she switched cups. You could tell Amborn didn’t suspect a thing. It was just an automatic reflex—a nice woman helping someone else out.”
“Any chance you were able to find the cup?”
“No way.” Waverly took a deep swig of his coffee. “Hey, did you watch the evening news?”
“Damn right I did,” Ray said. “Dunham’s picture was only on screen for about twenty seconds, but the information’s out there now. Someone’s bound to spot her.” He took a better look at Waverly. “You look beat.”
Grinning, Waverly said, “Now, that’s why you make a good detective, buddy. You don’t miss a thing. By the way, word from the lab is that there’s nothing incriminating on Dunham’s computer. Nada, Ray. The way things are going, I’m afraid the D.A. could decide there’s not enough evidence to prosecute Dunham once we find her. The only solid piece of evidence we have that connects her to Hugh Conley’s murder is those Nike prints. Everything else is circumstantial.”
“That sucks,” Ray said. “At least we know Christine Wald was killed with the same gun she used to fire those shots through my front window. That’ll make the case against Dunham for Wald’s murder stronger.”
“Yeah, but it’s not exactly the silver lining I was looking for. I want to nail her for Conley’s murder, too.”
“No more than I do,” Ray said.
Waverly stood. “Look, I’d better get home. Glad to see you got your window fixed. Maybe if you wait long enough, those holes in your wall will heal up on their own.”
“Interesting theory, but I’m going to patch up the holes and paint the wall tomorrow. I’ve got the day off anyway; Roth won’t approve any more overtime this month. I’ll have the place to myself for a while anyhow. Gail’s going shopping and then she’ll pick up the kids, so If I start early enough, I can get the job done before the game starts.”
“Lucky dog. A peaceful Sunday, the house to yourself, and the Viking/Packer game to look forward to. Looks like I’ll be missing that one.” Waverly slipped into his coat taken from the standing coat rack at the front door. “I’d better get moving.” He gave Ray a pat on the shoulder as he turned and stepped outside. “Enjoy your day off, buddy.”
“That’s the plan. You have a good one, too, Dick.”
Neither of them would.
45
Around ten-thirty the next morning, Gail stopped beside Ray long enough to check out the wall repair. The holes had been filled, and a leftover quart of Moss Rose paint sat at his feet, a color he still thought looked better in the can than on the wall.
“It’s looking good, hon,” she said.” Is there anything you want me to pick up for you while I’m out?”
“Maybe some chips and dip for the game later on.”
“Okay, but ’m not sure I’ll be back by then.”
“If not, don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ll scrounge around in the cupboards and find something to snack on.”
“All right then. I’m on my way. Enjoy your game.”
Just as Megan Amborn had the day before, Gail became unwary prey as she backed her SUV out of the garage. It was obvious Detective Schiller’s wife had no idea she was being followed.
Mirroring each of her lane changes and turns to the Eden Prairie Shopping Center began to feel like déjà vu.
At the parking lot, the similarities ended. There was no need to follow her into the mall or for the ethylene glycol still bottled in a jacket pocket. Repetition was tedious. Creativity kept the long, slow process of revenge interesting.
And unpredictable.
That unpredictability kept her victims and the authorities off balance. In any event, Amy was the ultimate target. Just as in Hugh Conley’s case, whoever came into the line of fire was a means to that end. They were meant to serve a purpose. The question still in need of an answer was how.
No clear plan emerged while waiting for Gail Schiller to return to her SUV. An opportunity would surely present itself just as it always had. Maybe not today or even tomorrow, but it would come. Despite that belief, the taste of revenge grew more bitter at the prospect of postponement.
Gail pulled out of the parking lot feeling a growing sense of well-being. Amy was out of the house and safe. A winning combination. The thought of Ray produced what she and Julie called the ‘warm fuzzies’, and they were getting warmer by the minute. Having the kids back home would be a hassle. A wonderful hassle. She smiled thinking of her family nestled at home again—the danger past.
At the McNeil’s, she picked Laurie up. Sullen, she climbed into the seat beside her mother as they drove to Julie and Dan Monroes’ house.
Parking at the curb, Gail said, “I’ll get Krista and Joey and be right back.”
Laurie’s eyes did a double roll. “I could die of hypothermia out here before you and Mrs. Monroe finish visiting.”
“I won’t be long. If you like, I can leave the engine on and the heater running,” Gail said, “or you can come in with me. What’s it going to be?”
“Some choice,” Laurie said. “I guess I’ll come in.”
A few minutes later, Julie offered Gail a cup of coffee.
“Moooooommmm.” Laurie’s roller coaster inflection needed no interpretation.
“Thanks, but I’d better get going, Julie. The kids are already in their coats and ready to go. Thanks again for watching them for us.”
“They’re great little houseguests.”
“That’s good to hear. C’mon, kids, let’s go home.” She picked Joey up and motioned Krista to follow as she started toward the door with Laurie in the lead.
“Oh. Gail, hang on a second,” Julie said. “I forgot. Let me give you the chafing dish I borrowed. My sister said to say thanks.”
“How’d her party go?”
“Moooooommmm.”
“This will just take a minute, Laurie.”
She reached out to take her brother from her. “Joey and I will be in the car. I’ll put him in his car seat to speed things up.”
“Fine. Krista and I will be out in a minute.”
Julie was going from cupboard to cupboard. “Where in the world did I put that thing?”
At the SUV, Laurie sighed. “Let’s get you buckled up, Joey,” she said. Busy settling him in, she didn’t turn to check out the sound of hurried footsteps behind her. The feel of something hard jammed into her back got her immediate attention.
“Bring your brother and get into my car.”
“What?” She saw the gun in the woman’s hand.
“Do it now.”
46
The football passed through the uprights, scoring the last point of the game as Ray reached for the ringing phone on the end table.
“Hello?”
He nearly didn’t recognize the voice; he’d never heard Gail in such a panic.
“Ray, they’re gone! Laurie and Joey… They’re gone!”
“Wait a minute. What are you saying?”
“They couldn’t have been outside for more than two minutes, but we can’t find them!”
His own level of panic rising, he told her, “Gail,
calm down. Where are you?”
There was a moment’s pause before Dan Monroe’s voice came over the phone. “Ray, it’s Dan. Gail and Krista are here with Julie and me.”
“What the hell is going on, Dan?”
“Gail came by to pick up the kids. Laurie and Joey went to the SUV to wait for Gail and Krista and two minutes later, they were gone. Joey’s car seat is still in the back seat, but there’s no sign of them.”
He realized Dan was doing his best to hold it together. “Maybe they went for a walk or something,” Ray said.
“No. No.” Dan paused to collect himself again. “The rear door was wide open, and one of Gail’s shopping bags was lying on the street. I drove all over the place looking for them. Nothing.”
Abject fear took hold. “Have you reported it?”
“We were about to, but—”
“But what?” Ray realized he was shouting and lowered his voice. “Dan, tell me what’s going on.”
“Before we could phone 9-1-1, Gail got a call from Laurie on her cell phone. Laurie barely managed to say ‘hello’ before some woman took over. She…she said if we called anyone but you, she’d kill the kids—that the same went for you; you’re to call no one.”
For a moment, Ray couldn’t breathe. In the background, he heard Julie trying to comfort Gail.
“Ray, listen,” Dan said, “the woman said Laurie and Joey will be fine as long as you follow her instructions.”
“All right,” he said, trying to hold off his panic. “What does she want?”
“I don’t know. I mean…she didn’t say a whole lot—just that she wants you to come here—that you’re going to need Gail’s vehicle.”
“That was it?”
“That’s all, Ray. She must be planning to contact you directly with other instructions.”
“Okay. Tell Gail to hang tight. I’m on my way.”
He’d barely gotten into his car and started the engine when his cell phone rang. “Hello.”
Ray heard, “By now I imagine you’ve heard from your wife.”
He sat frozen behind the wheel. “Where are my kids?”
“With me…at least for the moment.”
His voice vibrated with anger. “What do you want?”
“Don’t ask dumb questions, Detective Schiller. I want Amy, and you’re going to bring her to me.”
“She’s not here. After you shot up my house Friday night, they moved her.”
“That’s a shame. I hope that doesn’t mean you can’t deliver her to me, because if that’s the case, I’ll put your kids on the phone so you can say goodbye to them right now.”
His mind raced. “No! I can do it.”
“Good, because if you don’t, you’ll only have yourself to blame for what happens to them. You shouldn’t have interfered. That really pissed me off.”
“Tell me what you want me to do. Where do you want me to bring her? What time?”
There was a soft sigh on the other end of the line. “When is up in the air right now. There are things I’ve got to do first, but they shouldn’t take terribly long. You might want to put that time to good use, because when I’m done, I’ll call again, and your deadline for getting Amy to me isn’t likely to leave you a lot of wiggle room.”
“What about the location?”
“Relax, Detective. You’ll get the directions as needed. After all, I don’t want to find a welcoming committee of cops meeting me when I arrive. That wouldn’t do me or your kids any good.” A sense of menace permeated a long pause. “And, Detective, if you do anything—anything at all to muck this up, your son and daughter will die.”
“I understand.” Ray waited for the click that would signal the end of the conversation, but it didn’t come.
“And, Detective Schiller…”
His apprehension heightened. “Yes?”
“Know this: your children won’t be with me when we meet. Their safety is going to rely on your cooperation. I’m the only one who’s going to know where they are, so if you do anything to cross or apprehend me, you’ll be sealing their fate. I’ll let them die, so help me, God.”
Ray heard the click ending the call and slammed his car into gear.
47
The drive across Eden Prairie felt like it took an eternity. Thoughts raced through Ray’s mind as he sped across town. His options were few, his viable options fewer. Forty degrees out and he was sweating.
Outside the Monroes’ house, he pulled in behind Gail’s SUV, grabbed his cell phone and punched in Dick’s number. It didn’t ring. No dial tone. No voice mail. Wherever Waverly was, his phone wasn’t getting service.
“Text,” Ray muttered to himself. He forced himself to slow down enough to type a decipherable message. He knew it wouldn’t get through until Dick got into an area with service, but it was all he could do. Ray sprinted to the front door as Dan Monroe swung it open and stepped aside.
Gail stood in the center of the room, face drawn, her arms wrapped around her torso as though she was literally trying to hold herself together. “Ray…” It was all she could manage to get out.
He hurried to her, gathering her into his arms.
Her head dropped against his chest. “What are we going to do?”
“You’re going to stay here.” His eyes shifted toward Dan, who nodded in agreement. “I’m going to go get our kids back.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet but, God willing, I’ll find a way.” He said it to reassure himself as much as her. “I got a call from Dunham as I left the house. She’s going to call again. I don’t know how long I’ve got before then.” Ray kept the rest to himself. He let go of Gail and looked around the room. “Where’s Krista?”
Julie stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. “In Bailey’s room, Ray, with Bailey and Taylor. They’re better off in there than here for now.”
“Does Krista know what’s going on?” Julie nodded. He headed down the hall to her daughter’s bedroom, knocked and stepped inside.
Krista ran to him. “Dad, did you find them?”
“Not yet, honey.” Ray crouched in front of her and ran his hand over her blond hair. “Don’t worry; they’re going to be all right. You got that?” He returned her hug and got up, thumbing the tears off her cheeks and smiled—a harder feat than he’d imagined. “Krista, you stay here with Bailey and Taylor. Mom’s right in the other room. Listen, I’m counting on you to keep thinking positive thoughts, all right? Can you do that for me?”
“Okay, Dad.”
“I’ve got to go.” He hugged her again as though it might be the last time, knowing that was a distinct possibility. “I love you, Krista. See you later, sweetheart.” He kissed her cheek, then closed the door behind him and returned to the living room.
He tried Dick’s number again. Nothing. “Damn it.” Ray turned to Gail. “Babe, I’ve got to reach Dick. I can’t get him on his phone. I sent a text, but if he doesn’t check his messages, I’m screwed. If you reach him, tell him to call me ASAP.” He started toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To every house on this block. Somebody must’ve seen something—a strange car, the color, the make, the woman, our kids. Something.” Rushing out the door, Ray called over his shoulder, “Get Dick for me.”
48
Both Laurie and Joey were sleeping like babies. It was a drug-induced sleep, but it was the result that mattered, not the method. The boy had gulped down the doctored chocolate milk like it was the best treat ever. It required some persuasion to get the girl to drink hers. Seeing the gun pointed at her little brother did the job nicely.
Laurie. It was a pretty name, well-suited to the fresh-faced girl. She’d grow up to be a heartbreaker someday, assuming her father did as he was told. If not…
While the car sat parked along the outer perimeter of a Menards parking lot, a blanket taken from the trunk was used to cover Laurie and Joey lying on the back seat—concealment, not warmth being the primary cons
ideration.
After a hasty checkout, the car, with a bag of innocuous purchases on the front passenger’s seat, was driven toward Chaska, Minnesota. While inexpensive, the items could be put to use to make Ray Schiller pay dearly for any deviation from her instructions.
Proceeding on schedule, the car pulled into the Super 8 in Chaska fifteen minutes later with both children still unconscious.
While Laurie remained concealed in the back of the car, the desk clerk cooed over the sleeping boy draped over the new lodger’s shoulder. “What a cute little boy.”
“Thank you. He is, isn’t he?”
“He looks exhausted,” the clerk said, completing the check-in process.
The clerk slid the key card across the counter. “Enjoy your stay.”
Two minutes later, his breathing deep and even, Joey lay on the motel room bed minus his knit cap and new jacket. Completing the remaining task, she knelt beside the bathtub checking to make sure Joey was still blissfully unaware of what was happening and duct taped his arms and legs to the dry bathtub floor. That took less time than it did to adjust the temperature and flow of the water afterward.
A trickle. A warm trickle, barely more than individual drips.
Judging the amount of time it would take for the water to rise to a lethal level was imprecise, but with luck, the boy would come away from the experience wet but well…provided his father did as he was told. If not, learning Joey’s location would come too late to save him. Schiller’s fault, not hers.
A final strip of duct tape was slipped over Joey’s mouth in the event he woke from his drugged slumber.
Done.
“Sleep tight, sweet boy.”
Targeted: A Ray Schiller Novel (The Ray Schiller Series Book 3) Page 26
