DF08 - The Night Killer (41 page)

“Good questions,” said Frank.

“If Travis knows you’re onto him,” said Liam, “he might not believe you can prove it’s him—if Andie is not here to testify. He might think it’s the smart thing to kill her . . . or to have her killed. He’s probably trying to look normal—going about his normal business as acting sheriff. If he has an accomplice, the accomplice will be guarding Andie.” He paused and seemed to be thinking, studying something in his mind.

“Neva, Mike, and Jin—salt King Cave as planned—and wait in the cave for him,” Liam said. “Go well armed. David and Izzy can go to the sheriff’s office, Travis’ house, his haunts, and see if they can find him. If you do find him, bring him to the meet site he specified. Diane will continue on schedule and I’ll follow her.” He turned to Frank. “Do you do stealth?” he said.

“I’m a quick study,” said Frank.

“Are you the one who taught her the uppercut?” asked Liam, nodding toward Diane.

Frank nodded. “Yes. And I can handle a gun. And I’m motivated. Andie’s a dear friend and Diane’s my heart.”

Diane studied Frank for a moment. The corners of her lips turned up slightly.

“Let’s do it then,” she said.

Diane was back in the woods again. It wasn’t raining this time. And she wasn’t alone. She was being watched over. Though she couldn’t see the watchers, she knew they were there. It would be dusk soon, but there was still light filtering through the trees in crepuscular rays. It was quite beautiful.

The woods had already dried out from the drenching rain that fell the first time she was in the woods. It wasn’t damp; nor were the leaves crisp under her feet. She walked in relative silence.

It wasn’t far to where she was going. It was near the cave where the bodies of Larken MacAlister and Bruce Gregory were killed and dumped. Diane wondered if that was the cave he was keeping Andie in. It seemed like a risky thing to do. The GBI might return. She hoped that was the cave. She hoped Andie was near. She hoped it would be over soon and it would end well.

The underbrush was getting thicker and taller and the way harder. She ignored the discomfort caused from being slapped by weeds and branches, and walked on.

She had driven up alone in case she was watched. Frank and Liam drove an alternate route that took them to the national park. Liam said it would be an easy trek from there. She had done a lot of thinking in the car on the drive. Mainly to keep her mind off the shards of fear that threatened to tear through her new resolve.

Diane had figured it all out. Many of the details might be wrong, but she thought she knew what had happened and why. Not so much through the sifting and weighing of evidence, but from understanding the dynamics of greed. Diane understood greed. She’d seen a lot of it in her investigation of dictators and wannabe dictators. Greed was more complex than most people realized and kin to feelings as diverse as wanting simply to feel safe and wanting to be powerful. With Travis, Diane suspected it was a little of both of those, with some entitlement thrown in.

What she concluded was that the whole chain of events grew out of a festering anger that began three generations ago. Travis’ great-grandfather and his grandmother, Cora Nell Dickson, believed they had been cheated out of a fortune in gold by Roy Barre’s grandfather, LeFette Barre. This was a lifelong obsession with Cora Dickson. She told her grandson Travis from the time he was a child that the gold mine Roy Barre knew about and was getting gold from rightly belonged in equal shares to Travis’ great-grandfather—and now to Travis.

As her mind deteriorated, Cora started talking about what obsessed her—about the gold mine. Most people didn’t believe her, but Liam’s clients did. They got gold fever and they were determined to find the lost treasure mine. Travis found out what they were doing. He caught them in the very act of searching for his gold at the creek. He couldn’t have them stealing his gold, so he killed them. And he probably enjoyed it.

Travis had waited long enough for his birthright. There was no telling who might find it if he didn’t take action. He was going to make Roy Barre tell him the location of the gold mine.

Roy may not have known about the mine. He was so focused on the arrowheads, he hadn’t paid much attention to a childish treasure hunt and lost treasure mine. And Roy’s grandfather long ago discovered that there was no gold, only pyrite. A secret gold mine was not part of the Barre family lore.

When Roy Barre wouldn’t give Travis what he wanted, Travis killed Roy’s wife, Ozella. When that didn’t work, he killed Roy out of anger. Travis knew a little about forensics; he had gone through deputy training. He knew that wearing a Tyvek suit would lessen the likelihood of trace evidence that might lead to him.

Of course, the Barres knew Travis. That was how he got in that night. They might have thought his dress was strange, but he was a deputy. Probably thought he was involved in some important investigation. But they knew him. They may have even liked him. Diane had.

The Watsons never fit. Diane suspected all along that they were a red herring. They were Travis’ attempt to make everyone look for a serial killer. He chose the Watsons because they were his father’s nemeses. If people didn’t buy the serial- killer solution, they would look with suspicion at his father and his church, which Diane suspected Travis hated.

The strange thing—Leland Conrad must have known it was Travis. He was trying to protect him. That was why he tried to frame Liam. Sheriff Conrad thought Liam was a drifter, a guy camping in the woods. Diane remembered the fear and panic on his face when she told him Liam was a Medal of Honor recipient. Sheriff Conrad hadn’t expected that. He respected bravery in defense of country. He wasn’t going to go through with it. When Dr. Linden was about to reveal the results of the blood analysis, Leland had said, “Not now.” But Linden didn’t understand and he blundered on, thinking he was catching a killer. In the end, Leland was going to take the blame.

It was Travis who played chicken with her on the road. Maud and Earl said he was into reckless driving as a kid. That probably meant drag racing and playing chicken. He probably wanted to scare her, keep her off balance, and he probably thought it was fun.

Understanding Roy Jr.’s accident took her a little longer, but like a flash of revealing light, it became clear. Travis had taken the cigar box because it was the only thing in the house that looked like it had gold in it from the “lost mine.” He probably searched the house and became frustrated when he didn’t find the diaries. He had asked Diane about them at Slick’s that night and she hadn’t picked up on it.

Diane had photographed the crime scene when she found it. She knew the box was missing. When Travis took Roy Jr. through the house to see what might have been stolen, Roy Jr. said nothing. He would have noticed the cigar box gone, so Travis had put it back—probably minus the pyrite spheres. Travis was in a spot. Diane knew the box was missing at the crime scene, but it was back when Roy Jr. toured the house. It would be obvious that someone had returned it, and there would be only a handful of people who could have—Travis being the main one. Travis had to get rid of him. So now Roy Jr. lay in the hospital with brain damage and a lengthy recovery in front of him because of a missing and returned cigar box.

Diane was almost to the place for the meeting. It was a small clearing near a wide spot in the stream. She remembered it from when they were searching the banks near the cave.

Diane had been walking through the woods for almost an hour. She had occasionally stopped and listened for any sound of someone stalking her. She hadn’t heard anything suspicious. Her heart was pounding harder. She wanted it to be over. She stopped and called out.

“Travis, let’s talk. Travis.”

“How’d you know it was me?” His voice filtered through the trees. He was a distance away, but not far.

“I’m a detective,” she said.

“Must be a good one. I didn’t think I left any evidence,” he said.

“That’s the thing about evidence. You often don’t know you’ve left it, or picked it up,” said Diane.

Diane was standing in the clearing, trying to get a handle on where his voice was coming from.

“I’m here,” he said, closer than she expected. She jumped.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.

“Really?” said Diane, trying to sound amused.

Diane turned around. He was standing about twenty feet from her. He wore a straw cowboy hat, a Western shirt, jeans, and running shoes. If he had a gun, she didn’t see it. Clearly, Izzy and David weren’t going to find him in town.

“You bring the diary?” he said.

“Partway,” she said. “I need to know Andie is alive. You understand, it’s just business.”

“Sure, I understand, as long as the diary is nearby. Your lives are depending on it.”

“Who’s got a gun on me?” said Diane. “Is it Jason or Bob?”

Travis laughed, turned his head away for a moment, then back again. “I told Jason you’re smart. He didn’t believe me. He’s in a good place to get a straight kill shot before you can move three feet. It’s just business.”

“I hope it’s business, Travis. I’m hoping you want the location of the lost gold mine more than you want to kill Andie or me.”

“You’re kind of being stupid. You know that, don’t you?” he said. “You know me. Seen me. How stupid is that?”

“How important is the gold to you?” said Diane.

He laughed again. “It’s pretty important. I’ve been waiting all my life for it.”

“It’s so close. Don’t blow it,” said Diane.

“Why should I let you live after I get the diary?” he asked.

“You know the answer to that,” said Diane. “There’s a difference in what I can prove in court and what I simply have as a theory.”

He frowned. “You patronizing me?”

“It’s in my best interest to keep you happy,” said Diane. “I want to live. I want Andie to live. Let’s do the deal. Andie for the diary. You can stay in Rendell County and I can stay in Rosewood.”

“It’s not that easy,” he said.

“It is if you make it that easy,” said Diane.

“You don’t understand,” he said.

Diane thought she was detecting some self- pity starting. She didn’t want that. That led to feelings of entitlement.

“I understand you killed the young couple looking for your mine. Your father found out. Probably from the blood on you. Was that the first time you killed? Maybe it frightened you, but it was kind of exciting too. But surprise, your father didn’t turn you in. Instead he helped you get rid of the bodies. Without a body, crime’s hard to prove. Was that the first time you realized your father loved you?” said Diane.

“You’re good at figuring things out. I didn’t think he loved me. I thought he wanted to avoid embarrassment. Then he kind of took the blame, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did,” said Diane.

“If you’re good at figuring things out . . . I’ve always wondered why my mother killed herself. People say Daddy was good to her,” said Travis.

“It was probably a chemical imbalance in the brain,” said Diane.

“Chemical imbalance? I always thought it was me,” he said.

“Kids always think that. But it’s never their fault. Ever,” Diane said.

“What if they’re bad?” he asked.

“Kids are never bad,” said Diane. “Undisciplined, perhaps, into mischief, but never bad. Only adults are bad. Your mother probably had a chemical imbalance. Out-of-balance brain chemicals can cause uncontrollable emotions; they can make you depressed and you can’t get any peace from it,” said Diane.

He looked sharply at Diane. “Mama always said she just wanted peace.” He stood looking as if he were studying something inside himself. “Maybe you’re right. Wow, then what a waste of my life.” He laughed.

“Where’s Andie?” said Diane.

“I didn’t rape her. I know I said that’s what I was doing, but I’m not that kind of guy,” he said.

“That’s good to know.” Diane tried to sound casual. “Where is Andie?” she asked again.

“Nearby,” he said. “Where’s the diary?”

“I don’t want us to be at an impasse. Why don’t you bring Andie out and we’ll all go get the diary?” said Diane.

He nodded. “We can do that.” He turned to go, then turned around.

“Are you sorry it’s me?” he said.

“Yes,” said Diane.

“You kind of liked me, didn’t you?” he said. “Admit it.”

“I thought you would make a good sheriff and I was looking forward to showing you forensics,” said Diane.

“Yeah, I knew it. You liked me,” he said.

Diane started to speak but she was grabbed around the neck from behind and thrown to the ground.

Diane’s backpack was jerked off her arm, sending a pain through her elbow and shoulder.

“I’m fucking tired of this.” The voice wasn’t one she recognized. Diane scooted backward and looked up at the balding Jason, one of the Rendell County deputies. He was emptying the contents of her backpack on the ground.

“Where’s the fucking diary?” he yelled. “Travis, you said she’d bring it with her. You said we’d be rich. Damn it. Where the fuck is it?”

Diane had rolled away as Jason was messing with her backpack. She managed to rise to her feet and tried to get her gun from the back waistband of her jeans. But it wasn’t there. She saw it on the ground near Jason’s feet. She wouldn’t be able to get it before he could draw his gun and shoot her. She shifted her gaze away from her gun, hoping he wouldn’t notice it.

“The diary is in a safe place,” said Diane. “I didn’t trust you to make a fair exchange. Obviously I was right. Where is Andie? You want to be rich? Bring Andie.”

Jason whirled around and straightened up, looking at her. “I want the diary.” She saw every rotten tooth in his head as he yelled at her.

“I want Andie,” she said.