What Burns Within (42 page)

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Authors: Sandra Ruttan

Tags: #Police Procedural, #Police, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction, #Suspense Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense

BOOK: What Burns Within
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“Twenty, thirty minutes ago. Just as I was driving over.”
This time, Craig’s gaze met Ashlyn’s before he moved around the sofa and sat down beside her.
“Then it might not have anything to do with Tain. Lori showed up here. And she thinks she can use my alleged relationship with Ashlyn to get back on the rape case.”
     
Ashlyn had gone upstairs before Daly left. Craig found her already in her pajamas, in the spare bedroom. “Thinking of exchanging vehicles?”
“Very funny.”
Craig picked up the photo, resting a hand on the back of the chair she was sitting on. “What’s the significance?”
“Taylor Brennen’s brother remembered seeing a car like that around their house before she went missing.” She leaned back and looked up at him. “The kid’s a car fanatic. He noticed it. Tain asked Lindsay Eckert’s brother and sister. They remembered a similar car in the area.”
“Hardly conclusive. There are a lot of ’78 Corvettes around.”
“Still, easier to track down than red Honda Civics.”
“Isn’t anything?”
She smiled. “We’re grasping at straws, but you know how it is. We have to check out everything.”
“Well, if you’re thinking your abductor used this vehicle, you’ve got a little glitch to consider.”
The smile vanished. “What’s that?”
“No standard trunk. Storage is behind the seats. There are three compartments, one with the battery, one for general storage and one for the jack.”
“You’re telling me with a backend like that there’s no room for a kid to be stashed?”
“Well, you could put stuff on top of the compartments and use one of those screens that pull up, the kind people have in station wagons to conceal anything that might be interesting to car thieves. I’m just not sure that it would be the most practical. Whoever grabbed these girls had to pull the seats forward, stuff them in there, and the slightest bump or wiggle could reveal their presence to anyone looking. It would be risky.” He set the photo down. “But he could have scouted out the area in this car and had another vehicle he used when he grabbed them.”
“I don’t know. It seems to me he was opportunistic. He grabbed Isabella when she went into the woods for a ball. You couldn’t know beforehand that was going to happen and plan to take your car with the trunk instead.”
“Unless this guy is a fortune teller.” Craig started walking down the hall to the bedroom. “Do you need the bathroom?”
“No, already done.” She followed him. “If he is, then he knows we’re coming after him. Wouldn’t he change his methods or move?”
“I guess that depends on whether the future is fixed and unalterable and we’re all just pawns on somebody’s chess board, or whether we have freedom to make our own choices.”
The light from the bathroom reduced to a trickle, and she climbed into bed. Within minutes he was lying beside her.
“We are not having this debate,” she told him.
“You’re no fun.”
“Maybe the guru with the chess set made me an unhappy pawn.”
“Thought we weren’t having this discussion.”
She grabbed the extra pillow between them and hit him over the head. “Not my fault. I’m just a puppet with somebody else pulling the strings.”
Ashlyn started to turn over and felt the pillow land against the side of her face.
“I take it you don’t believe in a higher power controlling your destiny.”
She tossed the extra pillow on the floor. “If we’re all just pieces in some cosmic game, then what’s the point of what we do? It isn’t anybody’s fault that they’re a rapist or a child murderer or an arsonist. It’s that cosmic being that’s responsible.”
“So we should arrest God?”
When she turned to look at him, she was surprised to find his face only a few inches away. It was becoming so normal to touch him in public, she’d found her hand going to his arm or his waist automatically when they were together, but lying there, virtually nose to nose, his presence wasn’t just another part of the routine.
“Have you never felt like blaming God for all the suffering you see?” She shrugged. “Even for the things you’ve had to deal with in your life?”
“So that I could avoid taking responsibility myself?”
“You know what I mean, Craig. Life isn’t fair. Some people start with harder lives than others ever live to experience.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I know. I don’t have all the answers.”
“Yet at quarter to eleven on a Saturday night, when you have to get up and go to work tomorrow, you want to debate about free choice?”
“I was curious to know if what I thought you believed was correct.”
“Can I ask you something?” When he nodded she took the plunge. “Why don’t you go by Daly?”
For a moment there was silence. “Nolan’s my middle name,” was all he said.
She felt as though a dozen butterflies had just fluttered into her chest as he rolled over, little more than a dark shadow beside her as she lay staring at his back. After what felt like hours, wondering if she’d hurt him, Ashlyn propped herself up and saw that he was already breathing deeply. She collapsed back against the pillow, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling for the third night in a row.
SUNDAY
Ashlyn was sitting with Tain at the dining-room table, catching up on the meeting with Burnaby that she’d missed the day before. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.” Tain grinned. “I’ve never seen a chick look so pissed.”
“Not even one you were hitting on at the bar?” She smiled. “Is Daly getting you some help on this?”
“Sims is now my loyal servant.”
“What did he do to piss off the powers that be?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, but I’m not complaining. He’s thorough. Although he’ll be disappointed when he finds out about you and Craig.”
She groaned. “Is it something in the water these days, or what? Never mind,” she said when she saw his eyes pinch together questioningly. She told him about the rear design of the ’78 Corvette. “I checked. Craig was right.”
“Damn him.”
“Still, we should check them out. Even if someone was around the area, you never know if they saw something.”
“True. It just feels like one step forward, three back on this.”
“What else is still pending? It seems like every time we have a plan, something sidetracks us and we’re chasing down new leads. What have we forgotten?”
“A big, fat circle around the name Doug Fisher, who did some on-call desk work at Southside Recreation and Fitness Center.”
Ashlyn nodded. “He was the only staff person who wasn’t working a normal schedule during the week before Lindsay’s abduction.”
“Hardly conclusive.”
“And I know his name from somewhere.”
“Okay, I’ll run that down. I also have a lead on our clown and jewelry vendor. They’re at the Pacific National Exhibition today.”
“You’re going to the PNE? Lucky you.”
“I won’t be riding the rides, Ashlyn, or taking in a concert. Just going to track these two down. Imagine if we found witnesses to Taylor’s abduction.”
“I’d be wondering why they hadn’t come forward.”
“They could also be suspects.”
“Hey, that would be a first on this case. Did you ever find out why Alex Wilson stopped working as a photographer?”
“I’m just one person, not Superman, you know.”
“And your friend from morality crimes?”
“He’ll call you, but it sounds like it’s hours of tedious screening and a lot of luck.”
“Wonderful.”
“We also need to go through the runaway and missing-persons reports for July eighteenth.”
“I’ll add that to my list.”
Tain leaned back in his chair, scratched his head. “So what else will you be doing?”
“There’s a guy who has a contract to do repairs for the fire halls. I’m going to track him down and see about getting him to fix Craig’s dishwasher.”
Tain’s eyebrows rose. “How…domestic of you.”
“Actually, I thought anything mechanical was men’s work.”
He whistled. “Don’t let Hawkins hear you discriminating against the better half of the department.”
“I’m not discriminating against the better half.”
“You’re in a mood.”
“Ever try sleeping with Craig?” She groaned as soon as she realized what she’d said. “Never mind.”
After she gave him a rundown of the other things she planned to cover, he left. She started a load of laundry, grabbed a glass of juice and returned to the computer, prepared to devote one more hour to scanning vile websites for photos of Nicky Brennen.
     
Hawkins let out a long, slow breath as he sank into the chair across from Daly. For a moment, Daly kept his eyes focused on the desk while he rubbed the stubble on his chin. Then he looked up.
He looked almost as bad as Lori. Daly felt his stomach plummet and twist.
“There’s no easy way to put this. Lori knows that Ashlyn is staying at Craig’s.”
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.

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