Bone Cold (20 page)

Friday, January 26
3:30 a.m.

“M
innie,” Jaye called softly, crouching beside the pet door. “Are you awake? Come talk to me, I can't sleep.”

Silence answered her and Jaye sat back to wait. Over the past nights she and Minnie had become secret friends. Minnie came to her in the dead of night, always while he slept. Jaye had never tried calling her before. But she was feeling particularly anxious tonight, lonely and on edge. She needed someone to talk to; she needed Minnie.

Jaye rubbed her arms, chilled. Minnie was the most fearful and timid person she had ever known. Everything, every sound, suggestion or request frightened her. Jaye felt her hatred growing for their captor and what he had done to the younger girl.

Jaye wondered sometimes about Minnie's folks, if they still looked for their daughter. Jaye assumed Minnie had been kidnapped as a little girl and wondered how
her family would feel about getting her back so many years later? Would they still want her?

She and Minnie would find out sooner than later, because they were going to escape. And Jaye was going to see to it that Minnie got home.

Home.

Hopelessness settled over her. Over the past days, she had come to realize that no one was looking for her. Since she had run away before, no doubt everyone thought she had done it again. Even Anna, because of their fight.

Jaye leaned her forehead against her prison door, a sigh escaping her. If only she could go back in time. If only she could take back the hateful things she had said to Anna. If not for their fight, Anna would have looked for her. She wouldn't have rested until Jaye had been found.

Despair rose up in her and she called for her friend again. “Minnie, please… Can you hear—”

“I'm here,” the girl whispered. “Are you all right?”

“I'm okay.” She swallowed hard. “I was just thinking about my friend Anna.”

“Don't think about her,” Minnie said. “It'll make you sad.”

“But how do I stop? I'm so worried about her. And I just…I want to see her again.”

“Maybe you will. Someday.”

“Is that what you do?” Jaye persisted, pressing closer to the door. She could hear Minnie breathing and Tabitha purring. “Just not think about the people you love?”

“It works. And pretty soon…you just forget.”

Jaye's eyes burned with unshed tears. “But I don't want to forget, Minnie. I just want to go home.”

“But…if you go, I'll be alone again. I don't want you to go, Jaye. Besides Tabitha, you're my only friend.”

“I won't leave without you, Min. We'll go together.”

“That's not true. You will go without me. She did. She said she wouldn't, but she did.”

Jaye's breath caught. “Who? How did she escape? Was she here, in this house?”

“Her. Another girl. I…don't remember her name. I don't remember any of it.”

“You have to, Minnie. You're just scared. Try. Maybe it…it might help us.” Minnie was silent, and Jaye pressed on. “Please, Minnie. If you could remember—”

“I told you, I can't remember!” Her voice rose. “I won't!”

Jaye's heart began to thunder; she bent her head closer to the door. When Minnie got upset, she ran away. “I'm sorry, Minnie. It's okay. You don't have to remember if don't want to. But listen to me, I promise I won't go without you. Not ever.”

The other girl let out a shuddering breath. “You really wouldn't leave me behind?”

“I really wouldn't.”

“I want to believe you, but I'm afraid.”

“I know, Min. But you have to trust me. When I escape, I'm bringing you with me.”

Minnie calmed and they talked for a while, about what they would do when they were free, where they would go. Jaye assured Minnie they would stay together, and though she didn't know how she would keep her word, she promised herself that she would.

But she needed Minnie's help.

“Minnie,” Jaye whispered, “you have to find us a way out of here. There has to be some—”

“I can't. He'll find out and be angry. I don't like it when he's angry.”

“But what will it matter if we're gone? He won't be able to hurt us then. Right, Min?”

“I…guess so. He…he hides the key to your door. He won't let me see where.”

“Maybe there's another way.” Jaye gentled her tone. “You could go without me. Get help and send them back for—”

“I won't go without you. I won't!”

“I know there's a phone because I've heard it ringing. When he's asleep or out somewhere, call 911. They'll come, they have to. It's a law. You have to do this, Minnie. You—”

“Oh no! He's coming!”

Jaye froze. “Are you sure? Maybe it's only—”

“Yes, he's…” Minnie moaned. “Oh God, he knows I'm here. What's he going to do to… I can't stop him. I—”

“Get away from the door!”

The man's voice boomed through the darkness and terrified, Jaye scrambled backward.

He laughed, the sound the personification of evil. “Not so brave now, are you?
Minnie,
” he mocked,
“you have to find us a way out of here. I'll take you with me, I promise.”
He lowered his voice to a threatening growl. “Like I would let you take her anywhere. She's mine. A part of me.” His voice lifted, taking on a teasing quality. “We're inseparable, Jaye. And she's not going anywhere. But then, neither are you.”

“What do you want with me?” Jaye cried, marshaling her courage. “What do you want with Anna?”

“That's for me to know and you to find out. Though it won't be long now.”

Jaye shuddered and inched farther away from the door.
Minnie, where are you? Are you all right?

As if reading her thoughts, he said, “Minnie's scurried off, the little mouse. Afraid of everything, even her own shadow.” He laughed again. “Did you really think she could help you? Did you think anyone could? Are you really so stupid?”

Jaye heard him insert a key into the lock and a cry rose up in her. She inched backward, looking from side to side, for something to protect herself with, for someplace to hide.

But instead of her captor coming through the door, the pet hatch swung open. A paper fluttered to the floor.

Heart in her throat, Jaye inched toward it. A cry flew to her mouth when she saw what it was.

The note she had written in blood.

“You will cooperate with me in every way or I'll hurt Minnie. Do you understand?” She whimpered that she did and he continued. “The time has nearly come. The time for your friend Anna and I to meet.”

“No! Please! Leave Anna alone. She hasn't done anything to you.”

“What do
you
know of Anna's sins? Nothing!” His voice rose, becoming high, unnatural-sounding. Frightening. “You're just a stupid little nobody.”

The pet door swung open again. A tube of lipstick dropped to the floor, followed by a sheet of paper.

“Seal it with a kiss,” he ordered. “Then pass it back.”

It was a letter, Jaye saw. To Anna. Her heart stopped. A letter to Anna from her youngest fan, written in childish handwriting. Minnie's handwriting.

He meant to trick Anna. To lure her out of hiding
and into his trap. He was going to hurt her. Maybe kill her.

“No!” she shouted, hugging herself. “I won't do it! You're a monster and I won't help you hurt my friend!”

“Cooperate or Minnie dies.” He paused a moment, letting his words sink in. “Seal it with a kiss. Do it now.”

Trembling with the force of her despair, she applied the bloodred lipstick, then pressed her lips to the paper and passed it back.

“Don't do this,” she begged. “Let me and Minnie go. Leave Anna alone. Please—”

He cut her off, amusement in his tone. “Did you know? You just sealed Anna's letter with a kill.”

Monday, January 29
2:00 p.m.

A
nna stared at the letter, at the bloodred kiss at the bottom, her hands beginning to shake.
Dear God, it couldn't be. Not Jaye, please not Jaye.

Anna bent and dug her purse out from under the sales counter. She snatched out her wallet, ripped it open and frantically flipped through the photos until she found the one she sought—a close-up of Jaye, her expression dreamy, the light filtering across her face, highlighting the diagonal scar across her mouth.

The scar on the lip print matched Jaye's.

A sound of denial escaped Anna. One of fear. For Jaye. And Minnie.

“I'm back, Anna darling,” Dalton announced, entering the shop. He shrugged out of his coat and laid it over his arm. “Lunch was absolutely divine. The roasted-duck salad was as good as any I've ever—” He stopped short. “My God, Anna, what's happened now?”

His question bordered on comical. It seemed her life had become a series of bizarre calamities.

She wasn't laughing. She was terrified.

“It's Jaye,” she whispered. “He has her.”

“Who has her?”

“The man from Minnie's letters.” A knot of tears formed in her throat and she held out the letter.

Dalton crossed to the counter and took it out of her hand. He immediately saw what she had and the color drained from his face. “You were right,” he said. “About Minnie and the man from her letters. You were right about Jaye not running away. Lord Almighty, what do you think he—”

He didn't finish the thought, he didn't have to.
What was Jaye being forced to endure?

Dalton looked ill. “What are you going to do? I think we'd better—”

“Call Malone. I'm calling Malone now.”

 

Thirty minutes later, Anna and Malone, armed with the letter and a picture of Jaye, were halfway across the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway, on their way to Mandeville.

Luckily, her call had caught Malone in; he had come immediately. He'd taken one look at the lip print and photo and asked her if she would like to take a ride across the lake. Anna had jumped at the offer—waiting around to hear what he found would have been agony.

After Malone's initial round of questions, they had hardly spoken. It seemed to Anna there was nothing to say. She sat, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, hands clenched tightly in her lap.

He reached across the seat and covered her hands with one of his own. “There is good news here, Anna. There is.”

Sudden tears stung her eyes, but she met his anyway.
Defiantly. “And what would that be? That Jaye's in the hands of some maniac or perver—”

She choked on the words and fought to regain her composure. When she had, she continued. “She's been missing since the eighteenth and no one's been looking for her. You can't imagine how that feels. How afraid for her I am.”

“
You've
been looking for her, Anna.” He squeezed her hands, then brought his back to the steering wheel. “You never let her go. You never gave up.”

“Didn't I? I could have done more. I should have.”

He glanced at her out of the corners of his eyes, expression sympathetic. “And what would that have been? You went to Jaye's foster parents, her social worker, the police. You talked to her friends, followed every lead. What else, Anna?”

She looked away, knowing he was right—and that her efforts hadn't been enough. “I went on with my life,” she whispered. “I shouldn't have. I…I feel so guilty.”

“I know. But you need to let it go. It's not helping her.” He glanced back at her. “So, how about that good news? You look like you could use it about now.”

“An understatement.” She looked at him. “A big one.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “The good news is, we have a lead. Something to go on. Something concrete.”

“I'm overwhelmed.”

He arched an eyebrow at her sarcasm. “Compare where we are right now to yesterday at this time. Hell, to this morning. Every solved case begins with one lead, Anna.” He held up his right index finger. “One, that's all. If everything goes our way, the mailbox guy will
roll over and the address he gives us will lead directly to Jaye.”

“And if it doesn't?”

“We'll keep trying.” They exited the Causeway; he turned and looked directly at her. “I won't give up on this, Anna. We're going to find Jaye, if not today, another day. I promise you we will.”

The manager of the Mail & Copy store, under police pressure, did, indeed, roll over. The box was rented to one Adam Furst of Lake Street in Madisonville.

Madisonville was a small community located five miles west of Mandeville. A charming enclave on the Tchefuncte River, in recent years Madisonville had become a trendy area of renovated Victorian cottages, seafood restaurants, coffeehouses and million-dollar homes built along the riverfront.

Adam Furst's address, however, led to none of those. It led to a ramshackle-looking double on a street that had yet to be discovered by the yuppies flocking to the “country” from the frenetic pace and crime of New Orleans.

Malone drew his Bronco to a stop in front of the building. He shut off the engine, then looked at her. “I want you to wait in here.” She opened her mouth to protest; he stopped her. “Let me rephrase that, you will wait here. Understood?”

Anna agreed, though grudgingly, and watched as he walked up the overgrown walk to the sagging front porch. He rang the bell, waited, then knocked. He looked back at her, motioning that he meant to walk around the back of the house.

The moment he disappeared from view, she climbed out of the vehicle. No way could she sit back and wait.
Jaye might be in that house; if she was, Anna was going to find her.

The porch creaked as she stepped onto it. She crossed to the door, rang the bell then put her ear to the door to listen.

“Can I help you?”

Anna jumped, yelping in surprise. She swung in the direction the question had come, a woman coming up the walk, arms loaded with bags of groceries. A tiny woman with short, flyaway gray hair and arms like toothpicks, she looked about to buckle under her load.

“Here,” Anna said, moving forward, “let me give you a hand with those.”

“Thanks,” the woman said, her tone suspicious. “They are kind of heavy.”

Anna took several of the bags, then let the woman assume the lead to the front door. She unlocked it, then glanced back at Anna, eyes narrowed. “Be right back. Don't go anywhere with those groceries.”

Anna promised and several moments later the woman returned for the other bags. She took them, disappeared into the house again, reappearing at the same moment Malone did.

“I thought I told you to stay in the car.”

“Who's he?”

The two uttered their questions simultaneously. Anna chose to answer the woman's and ignore Malone's. “Police,” she answered. “We're looking for your neighbor, Adam Furst.”

The woman made a sound of disgust. “Got ID?”

Malone held out his shield and she inspected it for several moments before nodding and returning her gaze to Anna. “I'm not surprised to see you two, not a bit.
That man was a weird one. I always thought he was up to something.”

“Thought?” Malone asked. “You don't anymore?”

“He moved out a couple of weeks ago. No word to nobody. Left owing me rent, too.”

“Are you the landlord?”

“That's right. This house is the only thing my no-account husband didn't drink away.” She crossed herself. “Thanks to Jesus, Mary and Joseph for that.”

“What was weird about him?” Anna asked, working to hide how anxious she was.

“Came and went all times of the day and night. Mostly night, though. Sometimes I didn't see him for a week or more. Didn't talk, never had visitors. Kept his blinds closed tight, all the time. Not that I would ever spy on one of my tenants.”

“Of course not,” Anna said quickly, smiling at the woman.

“Couple times I offered him a beer and tried to start a little conversation, you know? Cut me off, real cold like. Nasty. Made my skin crawl.”

Anna rubbed her own arms and the goose bumps that crawled up them.

“When did he move out?” Malone asked. “Can you remember exactly?”

“Sure can.” The woman nodded for emphasis. “Day I planned to collect his rent or boot him out. The eighteenth.”

The same day Jaye disappeared.

Anna felt the blood drain from her face as she looked at Malone. He met her eyes. She saw that he had also realized the significance of the date.

“He lived alone?” Malone asked.

“Far as I know.”

“He didn't have a child with him?” Anna cleared her throat. “A young girl, maybe ten, eleven years old?”

“Never saw a kid with him.” The woman squinted up at the bright sky. “Come to think of it, though, I thought I heard a kid crying sometimes. Late at night. Didn't think too much about it till now, you know how sound carries at night. Do you think—”

“I'll need to get into that apartment, Mrs.—”

“Blanchard. Dorothy Blanchard. Though most folks around here call me Dottie.”

Malone nodded. “I'll need to get in there this afternoon, Dottie. Me and some other officers.”

She smiled broadly, revealing a gold tooth. “Hot damn, you going to dust for prints and stuff?”

“Yes, ma'am. And stuff.”

Malone started down the walk; Anna followed after him, hurrying to keep up.

“So what'd Furst do?” Dottie Blanchard called after them. “Kill somebody? Rob a bank? Just what kind of creep was I renting to?”