Daly nodded. “They told me last night.”
“She’s trying to use it as leverage to get back on the rape case.”
“Then it’s time for somebody to deal with her. Discipline her, suspend her, put her on forced medical…. Can’t we require a psych evaluation to deem fitness?”
Hawkins’s eyes drifted away from Daly’s face to the bookshelves, retaining a glossy film, as though they weren’t really focused on anything.
“It’s not that simple,” he finally said.
“Well, it should be. She could end up jeopardizing Craig’s and Ashlyn’s safety, as well as compromising this case. You can’t expect me to stand by and let her self-destruct or take other people down with her.”
“She’s having trouble here, trouble at home…She needs something to put her back up against, you know.”
“That’s not my problem. She needs help. Before she hurts somebody else.”
Hawkins sighed. “I know. I know.” He stood up and walked to the door, pausing with his fingers on the handle. “I just wanted to give you warning, so you knew what was going on.”
“What I want to know is what’s being done about it.”
“I’ll handle it,” Hawkins said.
The door closed behind him.
Daly leaned back, his hands covering his face. He had a bad feeling about this.
The three girls moved to their spots automatically, kneeling against the cold floor while he set out the bread and wine.
They moved through the recitations flawlessly, he observed. Even the defiant one responded promptly, did all she was asked.
He smiled approvingly before lifting the bread.
“This is my body, broken for you. Eat of my flesh and we shall be one.”
He tore off a piece and passed it to the girl he called Hannah—whose real name was Maria—who also tore off a piece and passed it to Taylor, who he’d named Martha. She did the same, passing it to the girl he called Delilah.
Delilah tore a piece of bread away and glanced at the others, unsure, before passing the bread back to him.
He smiled at her.
“Eat my flesh.”
When he put the bread in his mouth, they did the same.
Once he’d swallowed, he repeated the process with the wine.
“This is my blood.”
He lifted the cup to his lips and drank from the chalice, wiped the edge with a napkin and passed it to Hannah. Slowly, it made its way from girl to girl until they had shared the contents.
“Let us pray.” He folded his hands together and closed his eyes most of the way, observing through the tiniest slit that they had all closed their eyes as well, sitting obediently in silent contemplation.
He let his thoughts drift to the other one, the one still out there, lost, soon to become a harlot. God’s voice was growing louder now, telling him it was almost time.
“These guys have been making you jump through hoops ever since you got here,” Paul Quinlan said to Craig as he gestured for him to sit down.
“They’re taking their best shot.”
“Always do.” Quinlan’s smile faded. “Any progress?”
“Ashlyn’s checking out everyone we’ve been in contact with since I joined. You’ve got a list of all the volunteers and firefighters for us?”
He nodded. “I hate to think of giving it to you, but there’s too much at stake. And if I’ve got an arsonist on my hands, I want him caught. He’s jeopardizing the lives of every man here.” Quinlan passed him a file. “It looks like your employment information, but all the names are in there. Just don’t let anyone else get their hands on it.”
“Once Ashlyn’s checked them, it will be destroyed.”
“You can circumvent the chain of evidence?”
“We’re checking everyone I come in contact with. If there’s a name on there that looks promising, you’re going to introduce me.”
“Kind of an end run, isn’t it?”
“I’m beyond caring. I just want this guy behind bars.” Craig stood. “There was something else we were wondering about.”
“What’s that?”
“Security cameras. You keep taped footage on file?”
Quinlan nodded. “A few weeks’ worth.”
“Any chance of us getting a copy?”
“Sure. How do you want me to get it to you?”
“Courier it to Daly at the department. He’ll make sure we get it.”
“How does Ashlyn like pushing papers?”
Craig smiled. “Believe me, she’s paying her penance for that stunt she pulled.”
“Mrs. Nolan?”
“Uh, who’s calling?”
“Craig Nolan was at our store a few days ago, getting a fire-department pager.” He rattled off the name and location, and she felt her neck itch.
“Yes, I was there. What can I do for you?”
“The department is reissuing new pagers to some people. It looks like there’s a better one on the market now that we have available. Can you come by and pick it up today?”
“I don’t have the other one. Craig’s at…” She swallowed. “He’s working.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay. If you want to pick this one up today, he can drop the other one off tomorrow or the next day.”
She agreed to drop by and hung up the phone.
Okay, I’ve gone through the missing persons files for July eighteen. As expected, nothing that fits our profile. Still no sign of any photos of Nicky Brennen being posted. Damn, what if they’re for Wilson’s private collection? She tossed her jeans on the end of the bed and changed into a short dress.
When she got to the telephone outlet that doubled as the company’s main district office, she pushed the sunglasses up on her head and leaned against the counter, explaining her business.
Within minutes the man who’d been watching her from the hallway when she’d been there before appeared, equipped with smiles and pleasantries, holding out a chair for her, double checking all their information.
“Mr. Nolan or you can drop off the other pager anytime. This one really will work much better….”
Ashlyn tuned out the techno-babble, but she did take note of how his gaze seemed to continue to find its way back to her instead of the gadget he was holding. When he passed it to her, his fingers lingered on her skin for just a smidge longer than she liked.
She smiled and thanked him, keenly aware of his close proximity as he followed her back to the main counter.
“When did you say Mr. Nolan could drop the other pager off?”
I didn’t, she thought. But she forced a smile.
“I’m sure he can bring it by tomorrow or the next day. He’ll be working nights then.”
Whatever trivial nonsense he said to that barely registered. She wrote down his name as soon as she got back to her car and underlined it twice.
Tain waded through the clusters of children and preteens filling the spaces between the rides, wondering how many actually came with adults. It was a sea of opportunity for some child snatcher.
People think because it isn’t Toronto or Los Angeles, nothing bad can happen. He shook his head as he approached the row of vendors.
Tain found his first likely suspect, walked up behind him and tapped his shoulder.
The clown spun around. “You don’t look like my usual customers.”
“What about her? She look like one of your regulars?”
“Her?” The clown took the picture, his exaggerated mouth turning down into an enormous frown. “She looks familiar.”
“Think back to last weekend, the fair in Coquitlam.”
“Oh, her. Yes, I think I saw her. Tried to get her to sit down and get her face done, but she ran off.” He passed the picture back.
“And you didn’t think it might be relevant to tell us that, what with her going missing that day?”
The clown’s face froze. “I didn’t know.”
“What’s your name?”
“Who�
��s asking?”
Tain held up his ID.
The clown’s expression didn’t change. “I don’t see how I can help you.”
“That’s for me to decide, not you. I’m giving you a choice. You either answer my questions here or come down to the station.”
The clown sighed, and the cheery, child-friendly voice vanished. A raspy one replaced it. “Look, I’ve got a sheet, all right? But for nothing like that.”
“What for?”
“Petty theft. Name’s Bert Klavic.”
“That’s your full name?”
“Robert, if you must know.”
“You telling me you didn’t come forward because of your record?”
“Everybody’s anal these days about hiring criminals, especially for stuff like this. I’ve been clean for two years, you check yourself. But nobody wants a convict, even just a thief, around their kids.”
“It’s quite a career change.”
“Not really. It’s a good way to distract parents while they aren’t paying attention to their wallets. Not that I do that. But you’d be amazed what they’ll shell out to make their kids shut up.”
Tain almost laughed as he shook his head. “Creative, I’ll give you that.”
“Anything else?”
“There was a jewelry vendor who might have talked to her.”
“Him.” The clown spun around and pointed down to the end of the row. “Now, he’s one they should take a look at booting.”
“Why?”
“Just watch him for a bit. Wait until a girl buys a necklace.”
He started to move away, and Tain grabbed his arm. “Anyone else who might have seen her?”
The clown frowned, then shrugged. “She ran off in the direction of the merry-go-round. It was beside the park.”
Tain let go, but he didn’t leave.
“Sometimes, there was a religious nut there, trying to talk to people.”
“Was he there that day?”
“Look, I’m not sure. But he got kicked out a few times for scaring some kids. Some load about saving them from their carnal desires or something.”
“Merry-go-round guy, he working here?”
Bert shook his orange hair. “Sorry. Think he went to the fair in Aldergrove.”
This time, when he turned to walk away Tain didn’t stop him.
Craig glanced up and smiled. “What brings you here?”
She held up the pager. “Seems the one you’ve had for forty-eight hours isn’t good enough.”
“Happens sometimes,” said one of the men leaning against a counter between chewing his mouthful of sandwich. “Wives are always bitching about that guy giving out the wrong pager.”
Craig noticed Ashlyn’s left eyebrow arch as he offered her his old pager.
“No, thanks. You get to take that in tomorrow.”
“You’re out anyway.”
She smiled. “But I have other things to do.”
“That reminds me.” He went to his locker and removed a large folder. “My employment information. Can you take that home?”
She took it from him and looked at one of the other men by the counter. “You were on that one arson a week ago, weren’t you?”
He nodded. “Nasty call that was. Heard you got suspended.”
She shrugged. “When you’ve got missing kids, you’ve got to go the distance. Bosses don’t seem to get that. We’ve got a dishwasher that doesn’t work. Adrian told me there’s a repairman you guys use who’s pretty good.”
“Bob.” He flipped open a cupboard and grabbed a piece of paper, writing down the number. “He ends up fixing most things for the guys around here. Dishwashers, dryers, stoves. Does a bit of plumbing too, strictly on the side. Not much of a talker.” The man passed her the paper. “But he gets the job done.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Craig said, putting his hand on her back as he ushered her to the door. “What’s the real deal with the pager?”
“Just what I said. Called me up and went over everything again. Wanted to know when you were working,” she murmured.
“And the repair guy?”
“He connects to the department, doesn’t he? Makes sense to get your dishwasher fixed and charge the RCMP at the same time.”
“There’s a complete staff list in the folder. I told Quinlan we’d destroy it once we checked everyone out.”
“You know all those guys are still watching us from upstairs, right?” she asked as he opened her door.
He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “The things I do for this job.”
She smacked him with the folder, and he walked away.
Tain introduced himself and held up his ID.
The man didn’t respond.
“We going to do this here or at the station?”
The shaven head lifted, the steely eyes unblinking as the tattooed arms flexed.
“Look, I’ve got all day. All I have to do is call the exhibit coordinator and mention I have to take you in for questioning in the disappearance of a young girl—”
“Fine. What the hell do you want?”
Tain held up the picture of Taylor. “Remember her, Lex?”
Lex scowled. “At the fair a couple weeks ago or something.”
“But you didn’t think it might be important to phone that in?”
“You damn cops, always stirring up shit for people doin’ nothing wrong.”
“I like your little setup here. Polish these glittering things up nice and shiny and then get the girls to come over, half of them wearing low-cut T-shirts, bending over your displays.” He frowned, pretending to compare the setup to the other ones on the strip. “Is it just me, or is this table a bit shorter than the rest of them?”
The scowl became a snarl. “Look, she was alone. The clown tried to get her to sit down, but she took off. Bit young for me.”
“Did you see where she went?”
“Over by the merry-go-round. Looked like she was going to go to the park, but that Jesus freak stopped and talked to her.”
“Did you see what happened then?”
“No. Bunch of people came by. Never saw her again.”
“What about the Bible thumper?”
“Gone.”
“And you didn’t think that might be important when you found out the girl was missing?”
“Hey, one day, every couple hours different security staff came around to clear him out of there. Going on about carnal sin or some such crap, freakin’ kids out. One girl was bawling ’cuz he told her she was going to hell.”
“What did he look like?”
“Like your average nutcase.”
“Seriously.”
“I don’t know. Nothing about him stood out. Average. Not too old, short brown hair, not too tall but not a shrimp either. Not fat but not super-skinny.”
“You’re a real help, you know.” Tain slapped one of his cards down on the table. “If you think of anything else.” He walked away.
Lori walked in the door and was halfway into the living room when she saw the suitcases.
“What’s going on?”
He didn’t look up from his newspaper. “I don’t think we’ve got much left to say to each other.”
“Vish, really. I—”
He put the paper down and stood. “I’m serious, Lori. I think you should move out.”
They stood in absolute silence, him staring at the wall behind her, her staring at him, trying to will him to shift his gaze and look her in the eyes.
“You never could accept my job. This is just your excuse to try to get me to be something I’m not. If you want some secretary or schoolteacher who’d punch a clock, why didn’t you shack up with one of them to begin with?”
“That wasn’t what I wanted,” he said, his voice sounding strained, as though he was fighting to choke the words out. “But you’ve never been satisfied with this.”
What Burns Within Page 31
