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They Thought He was Safe

Page 21

by P. D. Workman


  “Zachary Goldman.”

  He froze at the whisper. The room was dark, but the whisper gave him something to focus on and, staring into the black space, he thought he could make out the outline of the man.

  There was a flare of light, and then a glow. An old-fashioned oil lamp, the wick lit by a match. Zachary swallowed and tried to lick his lips, but his mouth was so dry it didn’t help.

  The lamp was bright after the blackness of the night. The room around him was rustic. A cabin or shack, crudely furnished. The large shape put down the lamp and moved toward him.

  Teddy.

  Zachary immediately remembered Pat’s reassurance that Teddy was safe. They’d known him for years.

  And the serial killer had been operating for years, right under their noses, suspected by no one.

  Teddy was a big man. Looming up in the darkness, he was even bigger than Zachary remembered, tall and broad, casting his shadow all the way across the room.

  Zachary tried to move. He thrashed to escape, but it was no use. His hands were cuffed in front of him. He was on the floor and his leg was shackled to the iron frame of the bed beside him.

  “Thought you were smart, didn’t you, Zachary? You thought you could just waltz in and catch yourself a killer. Well, it isn’t that easy, is it? Not when the killer is smarter than you are, always a couple of steps ahead.”

  The noise of the tarp had covered the footsteps of the returning killer, Zachary realized, his mind shooting off on a tangent instead of staying focused on the man standing before him. Teddy had probably returned walking through the grass rather than on the gravel pathway, and the wind and the flapping tarp had kept Zachary from hearing his approach. He should have been more aware. He should have been looking around, keeping a better lookout.

  He should have waited for Dougan’s arrival.

  Zachary looked around the room, trying to figure out where he was. Was he still in the cemetery, in a crypt or an equipment shed? Had Teddy hauled him off somewhere even more remote?

  He was trying not to focus on the fact that Teddy was getting closer to him. He denied the possibility that he could be in even worse danger, that Teddy was there to kill him.

  Why hadn’t Teddy just rolled Zachary and Dimitri both into the grave and covered them up?

  Zachary looked at the bed. At least Teddy hadn’t brought Dimitri’s corpse back with him. How much time had passed, then? If he had stopped to bury Dimitri, that must have taken at least half an hour. Where was Dougan? Had he decided not to show up after all? Were he and Teddy partners in crime? Or had Teddy done him in too?

  Teddy reached down for Zachary’s leg and Zachary felt a sharp pain jab into his thigh. He let out a hoarse shout and his heart raced. He was sure that Teddy had neatly nicked an artery and Zachary was about to bleed out. He tried to reach for the wound, but the combination of the handcuffs and his woozy head prevented him from being able to sit up and put pressure on it.

  “There now,” Teddy crooned. “Just relax for a few minutes and let that take effect. Nothing to be concerned about. You’ll feel much better.”

  “No…”

  Teddy tousled Zachary’s head like he was a little boy, then gripped him under the chin, holding him tightly to prevent him from turning away. “You’re not a bad-looking boy. At least, you weren’t before they messed your face up like that.”

  Zachary tried to pull away, but his muscle responses were sluggish and he was starting to feel light-headed. Not light-headed, exactly, but removed. As if he weren’t the one in control of his body anymore. Whatever drug Teddy had injected him with was taking effect swiftly.

  He stopped trying to pull away from Teddy.

  Teddy smiled. The expression was ghoulish in the lamplight. “You see how much better this is? Why don’t we get you more comfortable?”

  He ran his hand slowly down Zachary’s leg to the shackle. Producing a key, he unlocked it. Zachary thought he should take the opportunity to kick Teddy. A well-aimed kick to the temple or crushing his nose would disable him, and then Zachary could make his escape.

  But he didn’t kick Teddy. Teddy bent over and picked Zachary up with one arm under his knees and one under his neck, like a sleeping child. He lay Zachary down on the bed.

  Zachary tried to protest. “No…”

  “Don’t you worry. I’ve never had anyone complain, when it was all over.” Teddy chuckled to himself.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Z

  achary was far away when the cavalry finally rolled in.

  Without any warning to Teddy, the cops came crashing in through the door of the shack, flashbangs tossed in ahead of them to stun their quarry. Teddy didn’t have a gun. He froze with the knife in his hand, too startled to do anything but turn toward the door with his mouth open.

  In the seemingly chaotic entry, Teddy was disarmed and thrown to the ground. He clearly had nowhere to hide any additional weapons. They handcuffed him, shouting charges and a Miranda warning. They wrapped a blanket around him and hauled him out of the shack, Teddy grinning like he was having the time of his life.

  It was Dougan who bent over Zachary on the bed, feeling his pulse and calling his name, but Zachary himself was far from the scene, watching it all from a distance, time and space morphing into shapes he hadn’t known existed. He remembered Santiago’s words, ‘I’ve never really felt like I move linearly through time…’ It hadn’t made sense to him before, but now he understood.

  He watched without emotion as Dougan took a series of pictures and then pulled the single sheet of the bed over Zachary’s body.

  “Need paramedics in here!” Dougan barked. “Where are they?”

  They must have arrived and assembled with the cops before the breach, because they were right on hand, pushing their way in the door as soon as Dougan called for them.

  “Preserve all the evidence you can,” Dougan ordered. “Make sure they take blood as soon as he gets to the hospital. Swabs of everything. Full forensic kit. Act as if this is the one and only thing we can get Mr. Archuro for. I want it to be ironclad. Is that understood?”

  “Not our first rodeo,” one of the paramedics growled, bending over Zachary’s body to shine a light in his eyes and check his pulse.

  “I don’t care about your hurt feelings. This monster needs to be locked up.”

  “We’ll take care of it,” the other paramedic, a woman, reassured Dougan.

  The drugs were wearing off and Zachary was more in control of his faculties a few hours later when he heard Mr. Peterson and Pat arrive. The ordeal of the forensic examination was finally over. He could hear the doctor talking to them before they were allowed to see him.

  “Is he alright?” Pat demanded. “I want to know what that bastard did to him.”

  “Under patient privacy laws, I really can’t give you any specifics. I’m sorry. If Mr. Goldman wishes that information to be shared, I can talk with you later. But right now, I have to assume that he wishes it to be kept private.”

  “Is he awake?” Mr. Peterson asked.

  “He may be in and out. And he may appear to be conscious of what’s going on around him and be able to answer questions, but then later wake up and have no recollection of it. His memories of the past few hours and the next few may be patchy or even totally lost. Don’t worry if he asks you the same questions over and over. It will probably be a while before he’s really back with us.”

  “He was drugged, then.”

  “I can’t answer that. Let’s see how he feels about sharing that information once he’s feeling like himself again.”

  There were a few more murmurs, and then the two men were escorted to Zachary’s gurney. There were curtains pulled around the bed. Zachary knew by the noise on the other side that he wasn’t in a private room yet. He was still in the emergency room examination area.

  “Zachary.” Mr. Peterson was the first to his side, reaching out to touch him and reassure him. “Zach, how are you?”

 
; Zachary shied away from his hand, his body convulsing with sudden panic.

  “Whoa.” Mr. Peterson pulled back slowly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. Too fast.”

  Zachary let his body melt back into the mattress again, breathing through his open mouth and watching the two of them uneasily.

  Mr. Peterson leaned in slightly, trying to meet Zachary’s eyes and evaluate his state. “Pretty rough night, huh?”

  Zachary breathed in and out a couple of times and nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Oh, Zach,” Pat’s face was lined with grief. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. All because I had to involve you in Jose’s disappearance.”

  “No. Not your fault. I shouldn’t have gone on without Dougan.”

  “Why did you?” Mr. Peterson asked. “You said you weren’t going to meet with Dimitri alone. Why didn’t you wait?”

  “I wanted to make sure… I was afraid of losing the evidence. That by the time Dougan got there, it would be gone and he wouldn’t be able to get a warrant. And I wasn’t sure… I didn’t even know, at first, if what was going on in the cemetery was related. It could have just been a coincidence, someone in the cemetery right before I was supposed to be meeting Dimitri. I didn’t know if it was anything related, I just wanted to check.”

  “You took a real risk.”

  Zachary nodded. “Poor impulse control,” he reminded Mr. Peterson with an embarrassed shrug. “It’s always been at the top of my psychological profile.”

  “Yes, it has. Of course, we had hoped you would outgrow it.”

  “Not yet.”

  Mr. Peterson gave him a warm smile. “I think you turned out pretty good. I just worry about you. If the police hadn’t gotten there when they did…”

  Zachary swallowed. He had no doubt whatsoever how it would have ended. Teddy had been explicit in his descriptions of what he planned to do, and he hadn’t planned for Zachary to be found when it was all over. Teddy had plenty of places close at hand in which to hide a dead body, where he could continue to visit it for years to come.

  “The police got there,” he said. “I’m okay.”

  “Are you?” Mr. Peterson’s eyes moved down Zachary’s body and back up again. With Zachary wearing a hospital johnny and a sheet pulled up over him, Mr. Peterson couldn’t see the things Teddy had done. The most he could do was guess. Zachary wasn’t going to divulge any details.

  “I’m just sore,” he said. “Nothing a few pain pills won’t cure.” He closed his eyes, resting, thinking about sleep. As removed as he still felt from himself, he wondered whether he would ever sleep again. Maybe he would always float above himself, watching his sleeping body from a safe distance. “You won’t have to worry about me taking my pills tonight,” he said, nodding toward the IV bag.

  Mr. Peterson lowered himself into a chair. He kept his hand near Zachary’s head, as if wanting to comfort him, but worried about Zachary’s reaction. “I’d rather be worrying about your pills tonight.”

  There were strange lights and colors behind Zachary’s lids when he closed his eyes. He opened them again. “I’m sorry about that. About taking too many. I’m usually very careful.”

  “I know you are. I think that’s one of the reasons it scared us so much. You’re more likely to not take something you ought to than you are to take too much. When you weren’t up and I went into your room and found you so pale and your breathing so shallow… I was afraid at first…” He didn’t finish the thought.

  Zachary knew what he’d been afraid of. Mr. Peterson knew that Zachary had attempted suicide in the past. That he might not have made it past the previous Christmas if he had been left alone.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  Some time passed without any of them saying anything.

  “Where’s Dougan? Did he come to the hospital?” Zachary asked.

  “He’s got his hands full right now,” Mr. Peterson advised. “He said he would check in when he could, but he’s got a body and a serial killer on his hands, and that’s way above his pay grade. He will be passing everything on to whoever is heading up the investigation into Teddy Archuro.”

  “Teddy,” Pat repeated, putting his hands over his eyes and shaking his head. “Can you believe it? I can’t. He never seemed… he was normal, just like anyone else. I never saw anything weird…”

  Zachary thought about how Teddy had zeroed in on him at The Night Scene. Zachary had attracted Teddy’s interest as someone new. He remembered how Teddy had suggested a shorter, more intense relationship. Just how short and intense, Zachary had not guessed. Teddy had been a predator, on the prowl for fresh meat.

  “I think I’ll go to sleep now,” he said. “I want to be awake when Dougan gets here later.”

  Both men nodded. Mr. Peterson touched Zachary’s shoulder very lightly, the weight of a butterfly. “Do you want someone to stay with you? In case you wake up and don’t know where you are or need someone to talk to?”

  “No.”

  Zachary was too enervated to explain. He wanted them to just go home and leave him alone.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  H

  e knew that Dougan would come when he was able, to discuss the case and tell Zachary what their findings had been so far. He lay awake into the morning, staring at the tiles on the ceiling, knowing that despite what the doctor had said, he wasn’t going to fall asleep.

  Nurses checked on him periodically, usually expressing surprise at finding him wide awake. An orderly showed up to take him to the room he’d been assigned. He entertained Zachary with a Caribbean-accented monologue as he wheeled Zachary’s gurney through the hallways and elevators to find his new home.

  Zachary couldn’t help evaluating the orderly as he’d been evaluating everyone the last few days. An immigrant, obviously. But not an illegal or he wouldn’t be working in the hospital. He didn’t match the body type of the immigrants who had disappeared. He had a big, well-padded body rather than the small, wiry frame Teddy seemed to prefer. That meant that Zachary could relax. The orderly was just the man taking Zachary to his room, away from the constant din of the emergency room, where he would be able to sleep.

  Except he knew he wouldn’t.

  Eventually, Dougan did come see him. His face was tired and drawn. He looked like he had aged ten years since Zachary had first met him. But he gave Zachary an encouraging smile and nod.

  “We’ve got him. We’ve got him wrapped up nice and tight. He’ll never see the outside of a cell again.”

  Zachary waited for the relief, but it didn’t come. The world went on, whether Teddy was in jail or out. He was hardly a blip on most people’s radar. Others like him would continue to operate in the dark long after Dougan and Zachary had shuffled off their mortal frames.

  “How did you find him?” After the words were out, Zachary knew he should have said ‘me’ or ‘us.’ But he didn’t correct himself. Dougan flopped into a chair and leaned back, arms and head draped over the sides and back like a long-legged spider.

  “You led us to the cemetery, where, as you probably guessed, we found Dimitri’s body. It was obvious by the state of the body that he’d been dead for some time. Not just an hour or two, but probably since you first talked to him. That threw suspicion squarely onto Teddy. We put all of our resources into finding him. APB out on him and his vehicles, warrants to track his phone, Dimitri’s, and yours, searched title records for any properties he owned, got dogs to try to track his vehicle where it had been parked at the cemetery, everything we could think of.”

  Zachary nodded.

  “The land titles got him. It wasn’t just a place he had found, that shack in the woods. It was on land that he owned. There were fresh tire tracks on the road and we had a helicopter with thermal imaging fly over, which told us that there were, in fact, two men inside. With that, we went in hot on the basis of imminent danger.”

  Zachary stared at the tiles on the ceiling.

  “He’s talking,” Dougan advised. “Just lik
e you said, these guys love to talk once you catch them. They want to show you how clever they are and how they managed to avoid suspicion for years. All of the close calls that they had when a traffic cop pulled them over with a dead body in the trunk or some guy drugged and unconscious in the passenger seat.” Dougan shook his head indignantly. “They’re just so damn charming they get away with anything.”

  “When I met him at the bar…”

  “What did you think? Did you suspect him?”

  “I thought… he was off. He made me uncomfortable, but I thought it was just… because he was coming on to me. He thought I was gay, so he treated me like a possible conquest.”

  Dougan considered this, nodding. “I suppose it’s lucky he was interested in you. If he’d been smart, he would have killed you and disposed of your body right away instead of just capturing you.”

  Zachary swallowed. “Did he say… why he didn’t?”

  Not that Zachary didn’t know. That had been clear from the start. Zachary just wanted to know if they knew.

  Dougan hesitated. “He’s like a cat… likes to play with his food before he kills it. He didn’t figure we were right on his tail. Thought he had plenty of time to stash you in the cabin and then go back to finish burying the body before anyone found it. Who would be tramping through the cemetery in the middle of the night?” Dougan cleared his throat. He didn’t look at Zachary. “Then he could go back to the cabin and take his time. From what he’s confessed, it takes him a few days to get through all of his usual rituals.”

  Zachary concentrated hard on the white tiled ceiling and the sounds and smells of the hospital around him. He would not acknowledge what had happened to him. He would simply deny the memories. They were not a part of him.

  “What about Philippe? I didn’t see any sign of him. If he wasn’t at the cemetery and wasn’t at the cabin… did Teddy have other places? Would he ever have several quarries at the same time?”

 

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