Authors: Lisa Jackson
Afraid to Die (6 page)
He doubted anyone would understand his need for perfection, the subtleties involved, but as long as he knew the depths of his dedication and talent, then the rest wasn't important.
Humming along to the notes of the “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy,” he felt inspiration well deep in his soul as he worked with excruciating precision. He only had a few hours, so he couldn't afford any mistakes.
He smiled at that ridiculous worry.
He didn't make mistakes.
Of course he didn't.
That was just one of the things he and God had in common.
Chapter 5
“Y
ou're such a liar,” Alvarez accused Pescoli as they drove down the steep hill that separated the older section of town from the new. Near the river, the buildings had been built near the turn of the previous century, some, like the courthouse, built in the late 1800s. There were newer buildings interspersed with the old, but this section of town definitely had an Old West feel to it and the town fathers made a point of keeping it looking as if the “Old Grizzly Falls” could be used as the set for a western movie or television series.
ou're such a liar,” Alvarez accused Pescoli as they drove down the steep hill that separated the older section of town from the new. Near the river, the buildings had been built near the turn of the previous century, some, like the courthouse, built in the late 1800s. There were newer buildings interspersed with the old, but this section of town definitely had an Old West feel to it and the town fathers made a point of keeping it looking as if the “Old Grizzly Falls” could be used as the set for a western movie or television series.
Up the hill, past a few old mansions that had been built by copper and timber barons, the newer part of town spread along the cliff face and into the surrounding countryside. While on the waterfront brick-and-mortar buildings stood tall, above, on Boxer Bluff, a few strip malls, fast-food restaurants, the new school and hospital became part of what townsfolk laughingly called Grizzly Falls's attempt at “urban sprawl.”
“A liar?” Pescoli eased her Jeep past the courthouse, where the Christmas tree was already adorned with hundreds of white, twinkling lights that sparkled twenty-four-seven. “Why is that?” She found a parking spot one block up from Wild Will's and eased into it.
“The Secret Santa drawing. You didn't get your own name the first time you picked a name from Joelle's Santa hat.”
Pescoli cut the engine. “I did, too.”
“Nope. Big lie.” Alvarez climbed out of the seat and slammed the door shut behind her.
“How would you know? Oh, don't tell me. You drew my name! Oh, great. I'll probably end up with boxes of herbal tea or some such crap from you.”
“I thought you hated the game.”
“I do.”
“Then why worry about what you'll get?” Alvarez picked her way over the crusted, dirty snow that had been pushed against the curb by snowplows. “And, no, I didn't end up with you; I could just tell. My powerful skills of detection.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Admit it, Pescoli, you cheated.”
Pescoli scowled as they crossed the street. “Okay, so you caught me. Big deal.” She was really agitated. “I just couldn't deal with trying to find cutesy little gifts for Brewster twice in two years. Trust me, that's my own personal version of hell. It's bad enough I have to deal with him as my damned boss. I refuse to play games with the man!”
“Jeremy and Heidi ever break up?”
“From your lips to God's ears,” Pescoli grumbled as she walked through the doors of Wild Will's, where as soon as they were inside, they were greeted by Grizz, the stuffed grizzly bear standing guard at the door. Over seven feet tall, his lips pulled into a permanent snarl, long teeth gleaming, razor-sharp claws extended, he was always in costume, a regular ursine fashionista who was dressed with the season. Today he was wearing elf attire, complete with a silly little hat decorated with a jingle bell, a red and green coat and huge striped stockings around his hind legs.
“Is it Grizz or Will Ferrell?” Alvarez joked, though she wasn't in a jovial mood. The holidays always brought her down and the three missing women were bothering her. It didn't help that the hot water situation at her home hadn't been alleviated. Jon, the sometimes repairman, had been ducking her and she'd been reduced to heating water on the stove or taking a shower at the gym. Jon had left her a message on her phone earlier: “Hey, uh, this is Jon. Got your message about the hot water. I'll get to it ASAP.” What a joke; the guy had no idea what ASAP or STAT meant. It was irritating. Damn irritating, but she wasn't going to focus on it now.
It was around one o'clock and the restaurant was busy, all of the booths and most of the tables occupied. Conversation buzzed through the high-ceilinged room and a fryer in the kitchen sizzled, competing with the strains of Christmas music filtering from hidden speakers.
A hostess led them to a table in the center of the large dining area, where, upon the rough-hewn walls, heads of animals stared down at them. Alvarez had always thought the decor bordered on the macabre and never felt completely comfortable with the glassy eyes of deer, elk, a moose and even a cougar glaring down at the patrons.
They had settled in and ordered before Sandi swept by. She put on the brakes when she spied Pescoli. “Don't suppose there's any news?” The lines in her face seemed deeper than usual, her eye shadow a sparkling metallic green, probably in homage to the season.
“Not yet.”
“Damn!” She shook her head and her eyes narrowed suspiciously, green eyelids even more noticeable. “You'd better check out Ray, the ex. Brenda and he have been in a battle royal for those boys. He wants full custody and so does she. There's always something going on there, with the courts. He's even had the gall to call your damned department and report her if he can't get through to his kids, and he's been on the phone to human services, sending them out to Brenda's house, trying to prove she's unfit or some such nonsense!” Sandi snorted at the insanity of it all. “A mean one, he is.” Nodding as if agreeing with her own theory, she pointed a red-tipped nail at Pescoli and jabbed the air in front of Pescoli's nose. “If you ask me, she was way too good for him, and he knew it! I never did like him. A real loser.”
“Aren't they all? Exes, I mean?” Pescoli asked and Alvarez guessed she was thinking of her own.
“Well, yeah, most of 'em! And you can sure throw mine in there.” Her red lips pursed thoughtfully. “Although Connie Leonetti gets along with hers. She even bakes him
and
his mother cookies for the holidays. And I'm not talking about the arsenic or Ex-Lax-laced kind. If you ask me, that's just an abomination of nature.” She didn't crack a smile at her attempt at humor. “I just hope you find Brenda. And it's not because I've had to pull double-duty without her. She's really a sweet, sweet woman and when I think of those boys of hers ... Oh, man, she adores them.” Sandi's lower lip quivered a bit and Alvarez wished there was something that could be said, some platitude that would soothe her. There wasn't.
and
his mother cookies for the holidays. And I'm not talking about the arsenic or Ex-Lax-laced kind. If you ask me, that's just an abomination of nature.” She didn't crack a smile at her attempt at humor. “I just hope you find Brenda. And it's not because I've had to pull double-duty without her. She's really a sweet, sweet woman and when I think of those boys of hers ... Oh, man, she adores them.” Sandi's lower lip quivered a bit and Alvarez wished there was something that could be said, some platitude that would soothe her. There wasn't.
Clearing her throat and squaring her shoulders, Sandi said, “If you ask me, Ray Sutherland is behind this. He didn't want the divorce and wasn't happy with the custody arrangement. If I were you, I'd be lookin' at him hard.
Real
hard.” With that, she saw a table that needed to be cleared and took off, her quick steps wending her expertly through the tightly packed tables. Closing in on a lackadaisical busboy, she snapped her fingers to gain his attention. Obviously, the pudgy teenager wasn't quick enough with his dishpan and towel to suit Sandi.
Real
hard.” With that, she saw a table that needed to be cleared and took off, her quick steps wending her expertly through the tightly packed tables. Closing in on a lackadaisical busboy, she snapped her fingers to gain his attention. Obviously, the pudgy teenager wasn't quick enough with his dishpan and towel to suit Sandi.
Probably no one was.
As far as Ray Sutherland went, they'd already talked to him, this morning, early enough that the trucker had obviously just rolled out of bed at the pounding on his apartment door. He lived on the second floor of an L-shaped stucco building. A surly sort with the beginning of a pot belly and in serious need of a razor, he'd seemed genuinely surprised when they'd told him about his ex-wife.
Had he been nervous?
Maybe.
Alvarez had noted that he ran a hand through his dull brown hair, all of which was sticking up at odd bed-head angles.
“Of course I have no idea where she is,” he'd said, perturbed. “Why?”
“Because she didn't show up for work, she's not at home and her car is abandoned at the side of the road.”
That made him blink, some of his just-woken-up outrage fading. “Jesus. What happened?”
“That's what we're trying to find out,” Pescoli had said. “Mind if we come in?”
Grumpily, he'd allowed them into a mess of an apartment, throwing some newspapers and jackets and a wadded blanket out of the way so that Alvarez could sit on the grimy cushions of a beat-up couch while Pescoli stood near the door. The shades were drawn and Sutherland, cinching the belt of his striped robe around his belly, settled into a fake leather recliner that had seen better days.
He'd answered their questions while yelling at his boys to get ready for school. When he'd gotten no response when he'd craned his neck back to the bedroom wing of the small apartment and called to them, he'd gotten up for a few minutes, trod down a short hallway, opened a door and given some muffled orders before reappearing and taking up residence in his chair, positioned in front of a flat screen that seemed to be six feet if it were an inch.
When asked, he'd offered up an alibi for the night his ex had disappeared. Though he didn't seem sorry to hear Brenda was missing, he did appear shocked.
“She should be more careful,” he'd muttered, reaching into the top drawer of the small table positioned near his chair. He withdrew a pack of cigarettes, found it empty and, swearing under his breath, crumpled it. “I tell her all the time.”
“Why?” Alvarez asked.
“Because she's the damned mother of my kids, that's why!” At the mention of his offspring, he'd glanced down the hallway, scowled, then said to Alvarez, “Are we done here? I've got to get my boys off to school.”
“We may have more questions later.”
“Yeah, yeah. Fine.” He'd gotten to his feet and began lumbering toward the bedrooms again while Alvarez and Pescoli had taken their leave.
But maybe Sandi was right, Alvarez thought now. Ray Sutherland, a trucker, might have given an Oscar-worthy performance this morning. But she doubted it.
While Pescoli dug into her burger and fries, Alvarez picked at her salad of field greens and her cup of shrimp bisque, all the while tossing the case over in her mind.
“Don't see how you live on that crap,” Pescoli said, pointing a French fry at Alvarez's meal before dredging the crispy potato strip through a puddle of ketchup on her platter.
“Ditto.”
“I don't think Ray Sutherland's our guy.” She plopped the fry into her mouth.
“If there is a guy.”
“Right. If there is a guy. Could be three women just took hikes, y'know. It happens.”
“You don't believe that.”
“Nope. I don't. Just don't like the other possibilities.” She thought for a few minutes as she took a final bite of her burger before tossing the remains onto her plate.
They split the bill and Alvarez was shrugging into her coat when she saw Pescoli's gaze narrow. “Uh-oh,” she whispered.
“What?” She turned, and from the corner of her eye saw Grace Perchant approaching.
“Here comes the nutcase,” Pescoli said under her breath, her words barely audible.
If Grace heard Pescoli's remarks, she didn't react. Thin and pale, dressed in a long, white coat that seemed to billow around her, Grace walked slowly and steadily toward their table. Her pale green eyes were fixed on Alvarez with the intensity of someone incredibly determined.
“Detective Alvarez,” she said, her voice low.
“Yes.”
Almost as if in a trance, Grace grabbed Alvarez's hand, and from the corner of her eye, Alvarez noticed Pescoli reach for her sidearm. With a slight shake of her head, Alvarez silently told her partner to stand down. She wasn't in danger.
“What is it, Grace?” she asked.
“Your son needs you.”
“What? I don't have a son.”
Grace's fingers tightened. “He's in grave danger.”
“Who are you talking about? I don't have a son.” Her gaze locked with that of the kook's.
“He needs you,” Grace repeated, and then, as if suddenly realizing how awkward the situation was, that people in the surrounding tables had stopped eating to stare, Grace released Alvarez's hand as quickly as she'd gathered it.
Then, looking straight ahead, she walked out of the restaurant.
Pescoli snorted. “I told you, nutcase with a capital N.”
“Yeah.” Alvarez flashed a bit of a smile as she pulled on her gloves.
Sandi scurried over. “Geez, I'm sorry about that,” she said. “Grace is a bit off, I know, but she usually keeps to herself.”
“Don't worry about it,” Alvarez said and was already on her way to the door. “It's no big deal.” Which, of course, was a lie. Another one. Inside she was shaking, the old familiar pain taking hold of her, but she wouldn't think about it, not now.
You have to someday; you can't just shove this into a dark corner forever.
Okay, fine. Just not today. And though Grace was a bona fide oddball who thought she could talk with ghosts, Alvarez couldn't just shake off her warning. Even though Alvarez didn't believe in all that psychic nonsense Grace tried to peddle, it was true that the strange woman had helped the department in the past. Several times. If nothing else, she brought a calmness, an equanimity to some of the most brutal and barbaric cases. It was weird. And bothered Alvarez.
Still she couldn't brush off the woman's concerns out of hand and Grace's dire warning chased after her for most of the afternoon, drifting into her brain while she was trying to concentrate on somethingâmake that anythingâelse.
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