Deadly Dreams (48 page)

“Take out the envelope.” He cast a careful eye up and down the alley, but there was nothing back here but an overflowing Dumpster and a mangy cat. “Take out what’s inside it.”

The guy obeyed, but his hands were shaking so badly he dropped the letter he withdrew onto the ground. “Oh shit, my nose hurts,” he whined.

What a fucking pantywaist. Walt bent down to get the letter and suddenly the guy wasn’t there anymore. Something was shoved in his face, and he fought to turn around, to aim his weapon.

But he couldn’t see to point it. The world around him was spinning. Until consciousness receded completely and the gun dropped from his hand.

“The address is fake,” Risa reported glumly as she pulled away from the curb in front of Hastings’s house. “And I called Cooper’s number a couple times. He isn’t answering.”

“If he’s the one behind these killings, he’s been busy,” Nate responded tersely. “The tail I had on Eggers was just taken out in a drive-by shooting.”

Ice water splashed through her system. “And Eggers?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. He hasn’t returned home. I dispatched officers there as soon as I heard about Huxley.”

“Cooper got to him.” She’d seen this, she recalled sickly. Had known it would happen. And yet again, had failed to prevent it. “Eggers is the next victim. I told you that this morning.”

“Eggers could just be running scared. We don’t know anything, other than the fact that we need to bring him in. We put a BOLO out on his car, and it was found within fifteen minutes in front of a liquor store near the station house. I’m on my way over to question the clerk.”

Meaning he’d follow procedure. And in the meantime, Eggers’s chances of surviving would decrease by the minute.

He was a putrid little man. Not the sweet innocent that Ryder Kremer had been. But the courts should mete out justice for his actions. Not Darrell Cooper.

Or Sam Baltes.

She looked down at the seat where she had the drawings from last night. Balanced the steering wheel with her knee as she shook one after the other open. A blaring horn behind her had her grabbing the wheel again and returning her attention to the road.

“What’s that?” Nate demanded.

“Bad driver.” No need to mention that the bad driver was she. Risa turned onto a residential street and eased to the curb. Put the car in park and picked up the sketches to study them.

“Listen I don’t have time to wait for you. I’m heading out now. But here’s the address.” He rattled off the location of the liquor store. She didn’t bother to write it down. “You can meet me there.”

“I’m going to check something else out first.”

The sketch of the road sign swam on the page in front of her. Left off 104. A deeply rutted road. Overgrown, with branches scraping the vehicle as it bumped by.

“Risa.” Nate’s voice held a tone of warning. He was on the move. She could hear the change in the background noise as he moved through the station house. “Get back here. I can’t afford to be worrying about you with all hell breaking loose.”

“You don’t have to. Because I’m not going to take any chances.” She didn’t dare, did she, when she couldn’t even trust herself to draw her weapon. To fire it.

But she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t check this out. Especially if they discovered tomorrow, or the next day, that Eggers had been burned to death just like the other victims. And that this time the scene was right off 104.

She wasn’t sure she could bear another failure.

“Keep me posted on your progress, and I’ll do the same.”

“Risa!” She clicked the phone off on the urgent word. She knew he was worried. Knew he wouldn’t believe her when she told him that he didn’t have to be. She wasn’t about to run headlong into danger.

But she needed to check out the road sign from her dream. She owed the next victim that much.

Dusk was fast approaching when she slowed on route 104. She looked instinctively to her left. There was nothing to set the road apart from any of the others that she’d passed. Nothing but a chill working down her spine. And a flash of memory from the dream the night before.

Sometimes the dreams were a depiction of what had happened. What might happen. And sometimes they were a jumble of past, present, and future. Dreams were open for interpretation, just like Nate had said. The pieces in them couldn’t be fit together like a puzzle. Some of the elements in them made no sense.

The prickling along her spine told her that this piece fit. But Nate would require proof.

She pulled over on the opposite side of the road, ahead of where the turnoff was. It’d be better to walk in. She could stay inside the underbrush that way. Even if the thought of pushing aside those branches—the ones that had been licked with flame in her dreams—turned her skin to ice. Swallowing hard, she hesitated for a moment. Then forced herself to plunge inside the wooded area.

It was darker without the setting sun overhead to illuminate the way. Easier to stumble over fallen limbs hidden beneath a layer of decaying leaves. After several minutes she began thinking she had miscalculated by not taking a more direct route. A half hour later she was certain of it.

Until she saw something through the trees that had all other thought fleeing from her head.

Fumbling for the cell in her pocket, she pulled it out. Punched in a familiar number. Was rewarded a few moments later with a growled, “McGuire.”

“You need to come out here.”

“Risa? Wait.” The din in the background made it almost impossible to hear him. A few moments later when he came back on the line again the noise had lessened. “Where are you?”

“Twenty miles west of interstate one on route one oh four. My car is on the side of the road. The path you’ll want to take is on the left. It’s overgrown and on foot it’s a thirtyminute walk in.”

“Listen, all hell is breaking loose here. We’ve got a good lead on the car of suspects who fired at Huxley. If we can track them down and discover their identities . . . or who hired them . . .”

“Best guess is Juicy. I think he and Darrell are working together somehow. But listen.” Her voice was low but no less urgent. “What kind of car did Randolph drive? The one that disappeared when he did?”

“A burgundy Chrysler, why?”

She peered out between the branches at the vehicle parked on the rutted road another quarter mile ahead. “Because I think I’m looking at it right now.”

There was dead silence on the other end of the phone. Then, “Give me the directions again.” She did so. “Risa, I want you to go back to your car and wait for me.”

“I’m not going to do that, Nate.” She squinted into the distance. But beyond the car she could see nothing. “It’ll be dark soon. I have to track them while I can still see where I’m going. But I don’t have any intention of making a move unless Eggers is in immediate danger.”

His curses were fluid and creative. “Dammit, I mean it. Don’t take another step until I get there.”

“I’ll call you back when I have more information.” She cut off the call and set the phone to vibrate. Then she visually measured the distance between her location and where the car was parked. Using the underbrush for cover, she crept closer.

Ten minutes later she was at the empty vehicle. There was nothing to see through the windows in the car. The trees grew thicker up ahead. The overgrown road became impassable, which was likely why the vehicle had been abandoned here. Staying low, she crept along the rutted path, the branches of the low-hanging trees clutching at her as she passed with greedy grasping fingers.

The sun had disappeared over the horizon. And soon . . . much too soon, the area would be shrouded in darkness.

As she moved farther past the car, she heard the sound of voices. She couldn’t make out the words at first. But the closer she pressed, the clearer they became.

“Fuck you. Think I’m going to say I’m sorry? If I had it to do over, I’d burn the fucker again. And again.”

Risa drew in a shaky breath. Eggers. She stopped at the ring of trees and squinted through the leafy branches. What she saw had her catching her breath.

Eggers was secured to a straight-backed chair in the center of a clearing. His tone taunting, Cooper was standing in front of him.

But not Darrell Cooper, she reminded herself. Sam Baltes.

“We’ll see what you have to say once I drop a match. That was a mixture of diesel fuel and gasoline I sprayed you with. It burns nice and hot when it gets going. You should have seen what it did to your friends. There really wasn’t a whole lot left of them to bury.”

Risa froze. There was no way to get closer without leaving the shelter of the trees. But she began to doubt that she was going to have the luxury of waiting for Nate before being forced into action.

“I did you a favor by burning that motherfucker,” Eggers screamed at him. “If Lamont had lived, you’d have ended up hooked on the same poison he had your mother shooting in her veins. You should be thanking me.”

“You’re right. And I’ve arranged a very special thank you. I wanted you to be last. I hated you the most. But flexibility is the key. I can come for the other two later. When Juarez and Gorenson least expect it.” There was blood on Baltes’s face. His voice sounded strange. Risa’s best guess was that Eggers had put up a fight.

Her hand crept to her weapon. Hovered above the holster. Damn, she
could
touch it. Could use it. She’d proved that the other night, hadn’t she?

“I’ve dreamed of this moment since I was eight years old. Today is justice day. But you’re not going to die quickly.” The hatred in Baltes’s voice was apparent. “It’ll be slow. Agonizing. And I want you to remember when you start begging and pleading what it was like for me to hear Lamont die. Remember you started this whole thing.”

“He was a lying sack of shit and a cheat.” There was a thud when Baltes’s fist planted in Eggers’s face. But it didn’t stop the man. He spit blood at Baltes and continued. “Tried to cut us out of his operation and, when that failed, threatened blackmail. Burning him was an example, and an effective one for over twenty years. No one dared try to screw with us after that.”

“You’re going to scream.” Baltes’s voice held an element she’d never heard in it when he’d pretended to be Darrell. “You’re going to beg. I won’t be able to watch your death dance with this setup.” There was no mistaking the regret in his voice. “But I think you’ll agree that this is a little extra special. Think about that for the next few minutes.”

With supreme effort, Risa forced herself to grasp her gun. Draw it out. And then nearly dropped it, her hand shook so violently. Baltes was on the move. She may be given no better opportunity to release Eggers. If only she knew how far the other man was going. Back to the vehicle? To a stash inside the brush? There was no way of being certain. But he had already faded into the darkness. Which meant she had to move.

She approached Eggers in a swift crouch. Her weapon hand was steadier now. But holding the gun was a far cry from pulling the trigger. Just like shooting a window bore no resemblance to shooting a man.

Martin Volk swam across her mind, holding a terrified Ryder Kremer. Should she have taken a chance with the man’s kneecap? The cost of her moment’s hesitation had been devastating.

Risa shook the image from her mind. There would be no reason for indecisiveness if she had the opportunity to wound Baltes.

Unless she froze in the act of pulling the trigger.

There was brush on two sides of Eggers. But a huge clearing was in the center of it. There was no protection as she hurried toward the victim, even as she took care to stay down. Whichever way Baltes approached from, she and the detective would be plainly visible.

She was coming up on Eggers from behind when she slowed. There was a huge trench dug around the man. Two feet wide. A foot deep. And it was lined, she noted sickly, with brush and branches. It was all too easy to imagine what Baltes had in mind.

He planned to surround Eggers with a ring of fire.

For a moment, horror at the thought held her motionless. Then she straightened enough to leap over the trench. Piles of discarded dirt were piled inside the circle. She stumbled over an abandoned shovel as she raced across the twelve-foot expanse of grass to where the solitary victim sat waiting for death.

“What the . . . Keep away from me!”

“Quiet,” she hissed at Eggers. “Stay still.” He was twisting in his chair, trying to see behind him. Risa had to set her weapon down to fumble with his bonds. She didn’t want to admit to the slight relief she felt when she no longer had to hold the gun.

“Hurry up! That fucker will be back any minute. Where are the others? Where’s McGuire?”

“Don’t worry,” she muttered. He was secured with duct tape, she realized with a sinking heart. And the most effective way to release him was with a knife to cut through it.

She didn’t have a knife. By touch alone she discovered that the tape trussed the man’s entire body to the chair. Even if she were able to free his hands, she couldn’t afford to expend the time necessary to loosen all of it.

Which meant she wouldn’t try. She reached out and tipped the chair toward her. Pulled.

“What the hell are you doing?” His whisper was harsh. Terrified. “Cut me loose!”

Risa bent to retrieve her weapon, but she had to holster it. She couldn’t drag Eggers to safety without both hands free. “Unless you happen to have a knife on you . . .” She pulled the chair with all her strength. Dragged it several feet before having to stop and rest for a moment. The man had to weigh one eighty. She pulled again. Moved him several more feet.

Then a shot rang out, kicking up dirt several yards away. She tipped the chair over in an attempt to make Eggers a less visible target and dropped to the ground, drawing her weapon with unconscious fluidity.