Dream Caller (19 page)

Ty liked guns almost as much as he liked his truck, so Jordan was pretty sure he’d be well armed. “What are you carrying?”

“My Sig. And I have a rifle and a Colt behind the seat. You?”

“Just my Glock. I didn’t bring a backup. Now I kind of wish I had. I thought us city slickers had problems with all of our drugs and gangs and robberies, but we’ve got nothing on you country folk. I’ve got an ugly premonition about being naked and chained to some psychopath’s water heater with a ball gag in my mouth.”

Ty chuckled. “If that’s a fantasy of yours, I’m sure we can work something out.”

“No one has seen Misty in two years. You know why? Because Jeb probably had a psychotic break from being forced to live in the ass-end of nowhere his whole life. Sounds like she didn’t even let him go to school. He probably got fed up and put her in the wood chipper.”

Ty shook his head. “A lot of people enjoy living in remote areas, baby. It’s peaceful.”

She was working on another smart remark when Ty’s headlights reflected off something shiny. “Stop. Look over there, just to the right. The woman at the gas station said about five miles up.”

“We’re at four point eight. Let’s pull off and check it out.” Ty pulled the truck over and killed the lights. Then he turned and reached for a backpack on the back seat. “Grab your gun and take this.” He handed her a flashlight. “The moon is fairly bright, so let’s try not to turn these on until we figure out if this is his place and if he’s here or not. Come on.”

She slid out of the truck, straight into mud. This probably wasn’t the time to throw out that he owed her one big whopping Caribbean vacation. But if they survived the excursion to Freddy Krueger’s trailer, she sure as hell intended to remind him.

Locked and loaded, they crept closer, dodging and stepping over weeds, wood, and wreckage that may have been, at one time, car parts. Everything else that was crunching beneath their feet, she didn’t care to inspect too closely.

They took cover behind a large tree next to a dilapidated and rusted old trailer.

“Stay down right here and cover the door,” Ty whispered. “I’m going around to the back to see if I can get a look inside. Listen for noise and watch for lights, but I don’t think anyone’s here.”

“You can’t be sure no one is here just because there are no lights or noise,” she whispered back.

“I’m sure because no one has shot at us yet.”

“Swell,” she mumbled. But she’d been thinking the same thing.

Ty returned a couple minutes later. “Anything?” she asked.

“I don’t think he’s here, but there’s a smell coming from inside that can’t be right. I’m going in to check it out. We might as well be sure this place is empty since we’ve come this far.”

“Yeah, cause you sure as shit aren’t getting me back out here again.”

“Once I’ve cleared it, I’ll come get you.” He grabbed her arm and slipped the truck keys into her jacket pocket. “If shots are fired, take off and drive until you have enough reception to call Jonesy.”

“Fuck off. If you wanted arm candy instead of backup, you should have brought Stinkerbelle. Right now I’m a cop, not your girlfriend. We go on three. You clear right, and I’ll go left.”

He wanted to argue, she knew by the barely audible
stubborn-ass woman
he muttered. But a second later he nodded.

They eased up to the front door of the trailer, and Ty positioned himself to kick it in. When it flew open, the stink flew out. In spite of the foul odor, they entered and swept through the place.

Clearing the small, jam-packed trailer wasn’t as easy as one would imagine. There was as much crap littering the inside as there was outside. And it was darker than pitch. Luckily, the place was only the size of a Cracker Jack box, so it didn’t take long to search all possible hidey-holes. But the smell continued to be a deadly beast wafting through the air.

After Jordan checked out a small room on the left and what may have been at one time a kitchen, she called out, “Clear.”

“Clear,” Ty echoed. “Jesus al-mighty
damn
, what reeks?”

Rotten food. Feces. One nauseating smell tried to overpower the other. But on top of it all, a foul layer of stale smoke permeated everything. And
that
was the smell Hailey had been trying to make Jordan understand. She was certain of it.

“Ah shit,” she heard Ty grumble.

Fearing that someone may have surprised him, she raised her gun and moved quietly to the tiny bedroom he’d entered. Her heart hammered as she aimed the flashlight and gun together and swept in. But Ty was alone, shining his light around the room.

“You scared the crap out of me,” she said. “I thought someone or some
thing
got you. Like maybe a giant man-eating rat.”

“We got bigger problems than rats. Take a look around. He’s got a whole room wallpapered with pictures of David Benson.”

Chapter 16

“Well, looky here,” Jordan moved her flashlight from one horrifying collage of pictures to the next. “We’ve got ourselves a real hard-core nutcase, wouldn’t you say, Officer McGee?”

“Damn.” Ty whistled long and low. “This is like entering a bad slasher movie about three seconds before one of us gets our heads lobbed off. Maybe we should back out, make some phone calls, and get a team up here before psycho-boy comes back.”

Jordan continued to shine her flashlight around the room, concentrating mostly on the newspaper clippings. “He’s not coming back. He hasn’t been back, in my estimation, in about a month.”

Ty turned the flashlight on his face as though he were getting ready to tell a scary story around the campfire. “This dude makes the whack job in
Silence of the Lambs
look like a pillar of society. How could you possibly guess what his next move is or when he was last here?”

She followed suit and shined her light up at her face. “My spidey senses are amazing.”

Unamused, Ty continued to stare.

“Okay, fine.” She shined the flashlight at a few of the newspaper clippings. “Look at the dates. That says January 7th. That one’s from December. That one looks like the most recent, January 22nd.”

Doyle Benson was big news in a little town. It looked like every time the man broke ground on another real estate deal or gave to charity, he ended up in the newspaper. David was often in the pictures, too.

“Look at all of these pictures and newspaper clippings, some going back a year or more. There are none about David being arrested for Hailey’s murder. And it’s been all over the news. Trust me, this kind of obsession doesn’t just go away. Wherever he’s holed up now, he’s got just as many pictures and newspaper clippings about David there. He wouldn’t be able to help himself.”

“I don’t disagree, but finding him is going to be difficult; he knows how to live under the radar.”

Ty shined his light on picture after picture. David alone. David and his father. David and Hailey. “He’s apparently obsessed with David.”

Jordan stepped closer and looked at the bizarre number of pictures of David’s clothing, David’s car, David’s hair. One whole wall was just David’s mouth and smile. Close-ups of his teeth, to be exact. “No, he was studying David. Everything about him. What he wore. How his clothes looked. His Hair. But most importantly, his teeth. It was the one thing he couldn’t copy.”

Jordan shined the light on her face and turned to Ty. “Holy fucking bingo. That’s what Hailey’s been trying to show me. That the person who killed her wasn’t David. Only I didn’t get it. Chances are I never would have because details that specific are hard for me to understand from a dream. And on top of it, I didn’t know what David’s teeth looked like. Why would I?”

She turned back to the pictures. “But I’ve run my tongue over every one of yours. I know your smile better than I know my own. You can bet if your clone showed up with jacked-up teeth, I’d damn well know the difference. And Hailey knew the difference too.”

Ty inched closer and studied the pictures of David’s smile, too. “I guess when your old man is loaded, braces and a million-dollar smile aren’t hard to come by.”

Jordan nodded and shined her light on a smile that was obviously not David’s, but Jeb’s. “But when you live wondering if you’re going to get to eat on any given day, braces are never going to be an option.”

“Until you want to impersonate your rich brother,” Ty added. “Shit. I thought he just wanted to screw with David and ruin his life. But do you think he actually wants to become David?”

“I’m not sure. I’m having trouble following Jeb’s logic on this one.”

He gestured at the images. “This place is going to need to be gone through with a fine-toothed comb, but I’m not touching any of it without a hazmat suit. From the stench, I’m guessing he kept using the john well after it had the ability to flush.”

Jordan followed Ty back outside, both of them heaving fresh air into their lungs after they’d stepped several yards away from the trailer. “I hope we didn’t just catch something in there,” she said. She bent over with her hands propped on her knees, attempting to breathe through a wave of nausea.

“Yeah. Like the plague. I guess if I ended up living like that and my twin got the golden goose, I’d be a little pissed too. But that”—he pointed to the trailer—“is a young man too bat-shit crazy to save.”

Satisfied that she wasn’t going to be sick, Jordan stood upright. “Or he’s just full of rage. You may be underestimating how resentful this guy is.” Jordan thought for a second, remembered what it felt like to believe you’d gotten the raw end of a deal where a sibling was concerned. “What I’m going to say makes me sound like a god-awful bitch, but . . .” She took a deep breath and met Ty’s gaze. “But a part of me always resented Katy. Especially right after the murders.” 

She never believed she’d admit such an ugly truth to anyone, but Ty had become her safe zone. It had happened when she wasn’t looking, but every day she was less and less afraid he’d run from all her ugly truths. “To me, it seemed that Katy got a better deal. And all she really got was a gunshot to the head.”

Ty stepped toward her. “Babe—”

“No, I’m fine. Really, I am. This isn’t about me, but I want you to understand that it’s easy to look at a sibling with jealousy and anger, even when there’s nothing rational or logical about it. Katy was murdered. She was young and innocent and had nothing to do with what happened, but God forgive me, because none of that stopped me from hating her just a little bit. She got to be with my mom and dad, and once again, I felt tossed aside like the freak I was. I wasn’t even worthy of being with them in death.”

“Jordan, no one tossed you aside. Your mom was trying to save you.”

“You’re right. Absolutely. And now as a rational adult—and I will use that term loosely—I can see that. But for a long time I was really messed up about it. So I wonder how messed up a guy would be if he learned that his twin brother went to wealthy parents. That he lived in an amazing home, had amazing friends, horses, in-ground pool, drove amazing cars, and attended college without ever thinking about where the money would come from.
And
had braces to make his smile nothing less than radiant. Hell, Ty, I could hate David just a little bit, myself, for those reasons.”

Ty sighed. “None of those things excuse what Jeb’s doing. I don’t care what his life was like; a shitty childhood is not an excuse to kill. And you know as well as I do, if he’s the one that caused that accident this morning, David may already be dead.” Ty raked his finger through his hair. “Let’s head back to the truck.”

When she followed him without another word, he stopped and turned to her. “What? You obviously have something to say and aren’t saying it. You think what he’s doing is okay because his childhood was crappy.”

“I did
not
say that. I’m just saying I understand the reasoning behind the resentment.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Ty’s arrogant dismissal of relevant facts burned a hot streak through her ability to censor herself. “You don’t understand because you lived like a member of the Brady Bunch all your life. Pies from grandma, horses on a beautiful farm, probably Disney vacations. Did you ever go without food? Did you ever sleep with one eye open because you were afraid someone was going to come into your bedroom and do bad things to you?”

Ty’s breath burst out in a rush. “Christ,” he murmured.

The night was dark, and his face was shadowed, but she knew she’d shocked him. And she wished like hell it was one ugly truth she’d kept to herself.

“Did someone hurt you?”

“No, not like you’re thinking. But it wasn’t for lack of trying. I was simply too damn mean for anyone to take advantage of. The point I’m trying to make is that I spent eight years in foster care. Most of them were okay. But I also know what it’s like to be in a home where no one cares if you eat, or take drugs, or get assaulted by older foster kids. It’s hard to care much about right or wrong when its survival of the fittest. What if Jeb Williams had an abusive, controlling nutcase for a mother and not much else? Maybe he’s lived out here like a social deviant for so long that he’s completely out of touch with reality.

Ty took her hand and led her to the truck. He opened the door, but before she could climb in, he pulled her against him. His arms slid around her waist and he held on. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For all the horrible things you’ve been through.”

“I’m not.” She touched his cheek. “I think it might be karma. When life craps you down a long, hellish tunnel, the light at the end can be pretty spectacular.” She laced her hands behind his neck, pulled his ear to her lips, and whispered, “Especially when that light has big muscles, big beautiful eyes, and a really big . . .” She reached down and stroked her fingers over his crotch, but then said, “Heart.”

He kissed her cheek. “You’re a beautiful disaster, you know that?”

She laughed as she hopped up into the truck. “But I’m your beautiful disaster. Aren’t you lucky?”

When Ty slid into the driver’s seat, she said, “You know, I like that. Nothing has ever summed up my life quite so accurately. I just might get that tattooed on my ass.”

Ty looked at her and shook his head. “Wouldn’t surprise me any.” He started the truck and pulled back onto the dirt road. “But before we locate a tattoo parlor, we’ve got to drive until we get phone reception so I can get a crime scene unit out here. And um . . .”

“I know, I know. You’ve got to call Cherry-bomb because it was her case, too. I get it.” Earlier hadn’t felt like the right time to bring up vacation, but now certainly did. “But it’s going to cost you. You owe me at least a week of beautiful, clear Caribbean water. And there’d better be no economy hotel. I’m talking five stars, spa, massage, room service.”

“Okay. Geez, I get it. Don’t get your panties in a twist again.”

Jordan folded her arms and sat quietly. Her panties weren’t necessarily twisted, but they were definitely bunched in all the wrong places. She forced her mind to something a bit more productive. “You know, with Hailey gone, and maybe David now, too, all Jeb would need to do is impersonate David for a few short months until the trial. He knows Doyle is going to spare no expense to get David off. Once he’s acquitted, all he’d need to do is make sure Doyle dies in a nasty accident. Then Jeb could collect all of Doyle’s money as David Benson, heir to the Benson real estate fortune. Who would ever question his identity?”

Ty took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That’s a seriously twisted plan.”

“I think what we just witnessed qualifies as seriously twisted.”

“True. He’d need to lay low and keep his distance from Doyle, make a conscious effort not to give himself away because of his teeth. Maybe he could pull it off, but I doubt it. It would be a hell of a gamble. Although I guess the worst case is he ends up in jail. And after seeing that trailer, jail would be a step up.”

“And best case is that he ends up millions richer.”

“Wow.” Ty shook his head. “The kid may never have gone to school, but he wasn’t stupid, was he?”

***

Jordan and Ty were sitting in front of Jeb Saunders’s trailer on the tailgate of the truck when the first police units arrived.
Oh, lovely
, Jordan thought. She watched Isobel Riley slide out of her sleek, expensive SUV.

Jordan’s nerve endings reacted like someone had not only clawed, but carved the top layer clean off a chalkboard.

Ty squeezed Jordan’s hand and gave her a sideways glance as he slid to a stand. “Play nice, or I’ll tattoo
mean girl
instead of
beautiful disaster
on your ass.”

“I could take her in a heartbeat, you know,” Jordan mumbled as she watched red-headed Isobel saunter closer in her stylish coat. “Snap her in half and leave her here for the crows.”

“Let’s not do that just yet.” Ty gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m planning to stick her here with the crime scene unit while you and I look for Jeb.”

“Really?” Jordan’s mood brightened. Until she noticed Isobel wasn’t so much sauntering as blazing a trail toward Ty.

“What the hell, McGee? If you were going to investigate further, you had no right doing it alone.”

“He wasn’t alone,” Jordan said mildly. “He had me.”

Isobel turned a sharp glare on Jordan. “You are not an investigating officer on this case.”

Jordan hopped off the tailgate and stepped toward Isobel. “Actually—”

Ty shot her a please-let-me-handle-this look. “Actually,” he interrupted, “because Jordan is a St. Louis detective who specializes in controlled substances, Chief Donner agreed to let her act as a consultant since David claims to have blacked out from alcohol.”

Isobel scowled at both of them. “Donner is an idiot and we both know it. I don’t care what he says—
she
is not a part of this investigation.”

Isobel stabbed a finger in Jordan’s direction. “You can’t make her a consultant just because you’re screwing her.”

“Watch it, Isobel.” Ty’s voice was low. It would have appeared deceptively calm to the average observer, but Jordan recognized the danger woven through the cool words.