Dead Even (32 page)

*   *   *

Thomas Reivich looked up with a start. The Delaney woman? Isaac? Jason Miller? He pulled the crumpled note from his coat pocket and read through it again. Good Lord! The little gal had been telling the truth! He forced his way through the crowd, and up to the officer standing beside Markham's door.

“I have to see the captain!” he shouted over the noise.

The young officer held his arm out, blocking his way. “Yeah, you and half the people in town! I'm sorry, but the captain isn't to be disturbed.”

“Listen young man,” Thomas said. “I have a note from Audra Delaney. Now you either let me in to see the captain, or I'm giving this note to those reporters!”

*   *   *

Mike sat down on the couch. “Now then, Philomena, what did you talk about when Isaac came to visit? Did he ever mention anything to you about where he might go if he was in trouble?”

Philomena rubbed her brow, frowning. “No—not that I can think of, anyway. Actually, I guess
I
did most of the talking, as a rule. Ivan never—
Isaac
never talked much about himself. But he was always interested in what I had to say.”

“Such as what?” Mike asked gently. “What kinds of things did you discuss with him?”

“Well, he liked to hear about the old days. I told him how my grandfather was one of the original Volga Germans who came from southern Russia in 1875. How my family all grew up in Victoria, that sort of thing. Nothing that would help you, I'm afraid.”

Mike nodded encouragingly. “What else? Was there anything he asked you about several times? Anything at all? No matter how unimportant you might think it to be.”

Philomena shook her head. “Nothing except—maybe how my father helped build the church at Victoria. St. Fidelis. He was certainly interested in that. I told him how my father and the other settlers hauled and dressed all that rock. It's one of the most famous churches in the country. Did you know that?”

Mike nodded, then, realizing the futility of such an act, answered yes.

This wasn't getting him anywhere. He had hoped the old woman would be able to provide some clue as to where Isaac might have gone. So far it had been a dead end.

“I have a key to a secret room at the church,” Philomena was saying. “When they decided to board up the tiny alcove, my father left the door in place and kept the key. When I die, it's to be given back to the church, but I always hated to part with it. My father treasured it so.”

Mike was only half listening, but he gave Philomena his full attention now. “What? What did you just say about a room? A key?”

Philomena stood up and went over to her curio cabinet. “It was my father's.” Her hand moved back and forth over the glass shelf. She turned back to Mike. “It's gone! My key is gone!”

Mike went over to the old lady, guiding her gently back to her seat. “Tell me about the key.”

Philomena started to speak, but the ringing of the telephone interrupted her. Her hand reached out, and she brought the receiver to her ear. “Yes?” She handed the telephone toward Mike. “It's for you.”

Markham's voice was tense. “Mike, I have a farmer here who has a note from Audra. He says he loaned her his pickup earlier this evening.”

“Yes, Captain. I know about that. Tell him Audra took his pickup to the Rock Road Inn. We'll get it back to him tomorrow.”

“No, Mike. Listen to me. The man says he met Audra heading east on I-70 when he was coming into town.”

“I don't think so, Captain. Audra was going over to stay with Bess.”

“I know that's what you told me, but I phoned Bess, and she hasn't seen Audra. Can you think of any reason why she would be heading out of town?”

Mike had a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Captain, ask the man if he by chance noticed a yellow Studebaker on the road in front of his pickup.”

He could hear Markham repeating his question, then speaking into the phone. “He says as a matter of fact he did. He used to own a Studebaker, and was looking at it when he saw his pickup.”

“Damn it!” Mike swore. “I think I know where they were going. Victoria. St. Fidelis Church. Send several units. Butch and I are on our way. We should be there in fifteen minutes.”

Chapter THIRTY-ONE

Audra entered the church by the front door and accustomed her eyes to the darkness.
Where are you, Jason?
She wanted to scream his name. Instead she moved quietly into the sanctuary, searching for a shadow, listening for a voice. The massive stained glass windows seemed eerie in the darkness. She moved quickly down the aisle toward the altar.

Why would Isaac have come here? What had drawn him toward this famous church? It had to have been planned. Jason knew their destination before ever leaving the attic room. Or had he? Maybe that turned down page meant nothing. The Cross of Gold speech certainly had nothing to do with this church. She had just assumed Jason had hoped the reference to a cross would make someone connect William Jennings Bryan and St. Fidelis. Could she be wrong? If she were, Isaac could be back on interstate, going God knows where with Jason.

No. The massive twin towers of the church, each topped with a cross—that had to be what Jason was trying to relate with those marks in the dust. And everyone in this part of the country would associate William Jennings Bryan with St. Fidelis—his Cathedral of the Plains, as he dubbed it. She couldn't be wrong.

Audra moved silently down a row of pews to the three confessionals, drew back the half curtains, and looked inside. They were empty. She crossed over and walked up the steps to the altar, searching quickly behind the pulpit and in the small rooms to the side. Nothing. She came back out and stood at the front of the church, looking out over the seating. They could be anywhere, in any of the smaller rooms. Was there a basement? She didn't know.

*   *   *

Isaac shoved Jason into a corner, then lit the Coleman lantern he had purchased for his room. As near as he had been able to tell, no electricity had ever been run into the small space. The room was only about five by eight feet, and he guessed it had originally been designed as a storage unit.

He knew this section of the basement was rarely used. He had never encountered any problems when he stocked the room.

The door was behind paneling on the east wall. When he had first checked it out, he thought the old woman had been crazy—feeding him a line. It had taken him hours of searching to find the door, and even then he had to loosen a section of the paneling.

He hadn't bothered slipping it back in place this time. He would have to dispose of the kid's body. He looked at Jason, sitting on the floor, his arms wrapped around his knees. It was too bad.

Jason could sense there had been a change in Isaac. He had tried to make conversation to keep on his good side, but Isaac seemed to be retreating into his own private little world. Jason closed his eyes.
Please, God! Let someone find me!

Isaac drew out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shook out one, and lit it. The flame flared, and he watched it until it died. He inhaled deeply, and immediately began coughing as his damaged throat rebelled at the harsh fumes.

He leaned back against the wall and studied the small boy. His own son. It was too bad there wasn't a different way.

He remembered the anticipation he had experienced when he planned what he was going to do with the woman and the boy—back before he knew Jason was his son.

What a shame that he was going to miss out on all that fun.

He stood up and walked over to Jason, then sat down beside him. He put his arm around the boy's shoulders and pulled him close.

Jason stiffened, pulling away.

Isaac took another drag on his cigarette, and was again consumed with coughing. He ground the butt out on the cement floor, then reached for Jason. He traced one finger down the side of the boy's cheek. So fair. So fragile. Why not? What difference did it make? He was going to kill him, anyway.

“Don't be frightened, Jason. I'm your father. I won't hurt you.” He twisted his fingers tight through Jason's hair and forced the boy flat on the floor.

Jason opened his mouth and screamed as loudly as he could.

*   *   *

Audra had heard the faint sound of coughing, but couldn't tell where it was coming from. “Oh, my God!” She spoke the words in a ragged whisper when Jason's scream tore through the quiet church.

“Isaac!” she stood at the front of the church and screamed his name, then raced over to the pulpit and flipped on the microphone. “Isaac! You bastard! I'm waiting for you. And I'm alone! Come get me you ugly son of a bitch!” Her words boomed through the church.

*   *   *

Isaac released Jason and jumped to his feet. He couldn't believe it. She was still alive! The bitch was still alive, and somehow she had found him!

He grabbed Jason's arm. “Come on, son. Your precious
mother
is waiting for us!” He reached down and picked up a long knife from the floor. He felt a little shiver of excitement tingle through his body. How wonderful. It was going to go just as he had planned it after all.

The quiet church basement echoed with his insane laughter as he left the safety of his room, dragging Jason after him.

*   *   *

Audra was standing at the front of the church screaming Isaac's name when she saw them appear at the end of the aisle. Isaac had one hand clamped on Jason's shoulder, and in the other hand, she saw the knife. She started down the aisle, both hands raised above her head. “Let him go, Isaac. It's me you want.” She lowered her voice seductively. “Don't you, Isaac? Don't you remember how it was before?”

Audra reached the first pew. She leaned down and grabbed up Thomas Reivich's rifle where she had placed it only seconds ago. She brought it swiftly up to her shoulders and aimed it down the aisle.

“Let him go, Isaac,” she said coldly.

Isaac laughed at her. “Who are you kidding? You won't shoot. Not with the boy here.”

“I will if I have to,” Audra said. “I'm one hell of a good shot.”

Isaac didn't move, and Jason could feel his fingers digging into his shoulders, getting a better grip. He twisted his head downward, and sunk his teeth into Isaac's hand. Isaac let go of him with a howl, and Jason ran up the aisle toward his teacher.

Isaac started after him, and Audra's first instinct was to back away. Instead, some unseen force propelled her forward boldly. “Come on, Isaac,” she said. “Come a little closer. I can't tell you how much I want to kill you. I've dreamed of nothing else for ten years.” Her voice was cold, hard.

Isaac stopped and looked at her. “Do you know what, Audra? I don't think you really know how to use that rifle.” He laughed. “Do you have the safety off, Audra? Are you sure it's loaded right?” He started walking toward her again.

“Jason, turn your head!” Audra spoke harshly. “I don't want you to see this.” She tipped her head slightly to sight down the barrel, and moved forward.

Isaac stopped, suddenly unsure. “You'll never hit me. It's too dark in here, and I'm too far away.” Again he laughed, but this time there was a distinct nervous note to his laughter.

“I can hit you, Isaac,” Audra said matter-of-factly. “I can drop a pheasant at one hundred yards. I shouldn't have a bit of trouble with you.”

Isaac looked down at the knife in his hand. Should he take a chance? Was she bluffing? Would she really use the gun in front of the boy?

“Listen to me, Isaac,” Audra said. “You are Jason's father. I do rather hate to kill you in front of him. Because of that, I'm going to give you a choice. You can leave right now, and I won't try to stop you. No one knows I'm here. You'll have a chance to get away.”

Isaac tried to think. She was right about one thing. She was here alone. There had been no other cars around the church when he left the basement. Just the pickup, which he had assumed Audra was driving. Maybe he could use it.

How long would he have before they got to a phone? Could he make it back to interstate and flag down a car? Maybe get to Kansas City? St. Louis?

Or should he rush her—take a chance? If he could get back to the basement, to his room, no one would be able to find him. Not if she and the boy were dead.

Isaac started down the aisle toward Audra. Again Audra resisted an urge to back away from him. Instead she took two steps forward and laughed. “Good! I was hoping you wouldn't run! Which eye do you want me to shoot out first? Beg me, Isaac—beg me to shoot you! You know the game. Come on, you bastard. I want to see you beg!”

She's crazy!
Isaac thought.
Stark raving mad!
And in a flash of insight, he realized he wasn't prepared to run the risk of dying. He would take his chances on interstate. He turned around and ran for the door.

Outside St. Fidelis, rushing up the long flight of steps, six police officers crouched to a shooting position as Isaac burst through the door.

“Hold it right there!” Mike yelled. “You haven't got a chance!”

Isaac looked around desperately, then dropped his knife and put his hands in the air.

Several officers grabbed Isaac as Mike rushed past them into the church, terrified of what he might find. “Audra! Jason!” he yelled.

Then he saw them—sitting on the steps leading up to the altar, their arms wrapped tightly around each other.

“Mike?” Audra spoke his name tentatively at first. “Mike!” she shouted.

*   *   *

They came down the steps of the church to cheers from the congregation of police officers. Mike was holding Jason in one arm, and his other arm was around Audra. She was still holding Thomas Reivich's rifle.

A few feet from them, Isaac stood in handcuffs with two officers gripping him. He looked over at Jason. “I wouldn't have hurt you, son. Really I wouldn't have. Will you write to me? Let me know how you are getting along?”