Fatal Storm (11 page)

“What is it about my father?” Adrian appeared
in the doorway like a specter. He rarely made a sound except when
he was coming down the creaky staircase. Immediately Colleen’s eyes
widened and she scooted closer to Sheila.

“Why is she afraid of you? If you have hurt
her in any way.” Sheila wrapped a protective arm around the
girl.

Walker moved like a cat, languid and
deliberate, and squatted down in front of Colleen. “I would never
hurt her. She's my sister.”

“That's impossible,” Sheila said. “You have
to be at least forty years older than her. Is she adopted?” Sheila
turned Colleen’s face toward her. “You can tell me the truth,
honey. Is he your brother?”

Colleen shook her head yes. Obviously they
had different fathers, Sheila surmised.

“And has he ever harmed you in anyway?”

Slowly Colleen shook her head no, but she
cast her eyes down, refusing to look at Walker. She moved closer to
Sheila and whispered, “But he's hurt other people.”

“Now Colleen. What have I told you about
telling secrets? Be truthful, little one. If you want to tell her
about harmful people, you should tell her about mother.”

With that one word Colleen stiffened. Sheila
had seen fear in Colleen's eyes when she had heard Walker
descending the stairs but this was different. Her eyes held terror.
But if Walker were close to fifty, how old were the parents? Were
they still alive?

“What on earth did she do that would make
this child so fearful?”

“Doesn't matter any more. She's dead.” Walker
straightened but kept his attention on Colleen. “Miss Monroe and I
are going to talk. Would you take your doll upstairs?”

Colleen looked out of the window at the sky
and shook her head no. “It's coming.”

“What's coming?” Sheila hated the cryptic
conversation between these two.”

“Colleen is afraid of thunderstorms.”

“I was, too, when I was your age. It's always
more comforting to be with other people.”

Colleen shook her head no and looked out the
window again. Adrian clasped her small hands between his. She
didn’t pull away. “Okay then. You can stay down here but Miss
Monroe and I are going to talk big people talk. How about if you
take your doll to the dining room?”

“We’ll be right here,” Sheila assured her.
Colleen stared at her with big blue eyes. Sheila brushed stray
hairs from Colleen’s face. “We’ll just be a few steps away.”
Colleen nodded and left the room.

Adrian took a seat at the other end of the
couch. Sheila edged back on her end and turned to face him. “Tell
me about yourself, Mr. Walker.”

“Please call me Adrian.”

“Fine, Adrian.” She wished she had her
notepad with her but why should anyone in a coma write notes? “How
old are you?”

Walker dismissed the question with a wave of
his hand. “Age is inconsequential.”

“How long have you lived here?”

Walker stared at the ceiling for several
seconds but Sheila knew a stall when she saw one. Finally he
replied with a smile, “All of my life. But truly, I want to find
out more about modern technology and this Internet you talk about
and how one can take pictures with a phone. I know about
electricity and the dial telephones, although my parents couldn’t
afford either.”

“I can tell you about them but not how they
work. I’m not an expert on electronics. You do know about
cars.”

Adrian nodded. “I’ve never owned one but I
have heard about them.”

“Well, there is a small gadget about the size
of a box of matches that when you press a button you can unlock the
doors by remote, you can even start it by remote. There are remote
garage door openers, robots that vacuum your house. And even cell
phones can set your security alarm on your house and even unlock
car doors.”

Adrian looked fascinated. “Do go on.”

So Sheila told him about traffic cameras,
GPS, satellites, the Hubble telescope, nuclear power, laptops and
notepads, trips to the moon, the Discovery shuttle, wars, one
hundred story buildings, flat screen television sets, microwave
ovens, CDs and DVDs, wind power, solar power. But for all his total
interest in what she had to say, his only question baffled her.

“Who is your most famous killer?”

“What?” Sheila shook her head as though not
hearing correctly. Suddenly something about the name Walker nagged
at the back of her memory. “What do you mean?”

“You still have crime don’t you?”

“Of course. There are robberies, drive-by
shootings. Humans still find ways to inflict pain on other humans.”
There was something strange in Adrian’s eyes when he talked about
murder. Sheila couldn’t put her finger on it. She had seen the same
look in the eyes of a pit bull when she had written a story about
dog fights. Walker...where had she read about a killer named
Walker? “What technology do you remember and what kind of music and
movies do you like?” Sheila wanted to get him off the subject of
murder.

“Casablanca. I so loved that movie.” Adrian
relaxed a bit and sat back with a smile. “Gary Cooper and Humphrey
Bogart are fabulous actors.”

“They are dead.” Sheila blurted it out before
she could catch herself. Adrian looked crestfallen.

“How dreadful. When?”

“Sorry. I keep forgetting that I live in the
year 2011.” The look on Adrian’s face reminded her that she had not
mentioned the current year before.

“Good Lord,” Adrian whispered. “Judy Garland?
Jimmy Stewart? Elizabeth Taylor?”

Sheila winced. “Sorry.” That didn’t seem to
make him feel better. “Price of gas is over three dollars a
gallon.”

“Preposterous! How does anyone afford to
drive?”

“What else do you remember?”

“Those who owned television sets had a choice
of thirteen channels.”

“Over two and sometimes three hundred
stations on satellite TV,” Sheila countered.

“Ten cents a pack for cigarettes.”

“Over fifty dollars a carton now.”

“Really? Good lord. I’m glad I don’t
smoke.”

Now that she had him off the subject of the
crime rate, Adrian was much more animated, had a gentle, rather
attractive smile. This Adrian she could become accustomed to.

“The Carrolls in town bought a car for
fifteen hundred.”

“Four tires for my car cost fifteen
hundred.”

They laughed, loud enough to make Colleen
peek around the corner from the dining room.

“How about a tour of the house as you had
requested earlier?” Adrian suggested.

Some lines never changed through the years.
When a man wanted to give you a tour of his humble abode, it
usually meant his bedroom. But Sheila was in a coma and it wouldn’t
be the first time she had sex in her sleep. She grabbed his hand
and stood but the room started to swim and her stomach lurched.
Sheila slowly lowered herself back down.

“I don’t think climbing stairs sounds like a
very good idea just yet.”

Adrian gave a nod of his head. “Maybe later.
I do so enjoy your company.” He reached over, grabbed her hand and
kissed it. There was something in his touch that was too soft, too
insincere, and too cold.

“Let me get this straight.” Skizzy had a way
of jerking his eyebrows in two different directions. With both eyes
wobbling in their sockets, it made for a comical impression. “Some
ghost hunters spent the night in a haunted mansion, the rich lady
disappeared, a body shows up out of nowhere with her scarf around
his neck, the guy is wearing the same clothes and fresh tattoo he
sported when he left fourteen months ago. Then two ancient
skeletons are found in a well with rope around their necks tied the
exact same way as the current victim. Now you have been hired to
spend the night in the mansion to see if you can figure out if the
ghost hunters are guilty of any of the happenings at the mansion.”
Skizzy huffed and scratched at his torn tee shirt. “Someone’s
yanking someone’s chain. As far as the rich bitch, I’d say she’s
with all the other people who have been reported missing over the
years.”

Dagger refused to bite but before he could
warn Sara, she said, “And where’s that?”

“Why, kidnapped by aliens. Where do you
think, girlie?”

Sara’s withering look at Dagger told
him
thanks for the
warning
.

Skizzy leaned his elbows on the counter and
lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level. “Have you ever heard a
ringing in your ears? The pitch is low at first and then gets real
loud. That’s the aliens downloading directions to you to be at a
certain place at a certain time. Some people, their brains can’t
decipher the alien language and just ignore them. But others go off
like good little Stepford boys and girls, right to the meeting
place where...” Skizzy clapped his hands together so fast and loud
Sara’s body jerked. “Bam, that beam of light shoots down and sucks
them right up.”

Skizzy disappeared into the back room. Dagger
rubbed his forearm where Sara had dug in her nails. “It’s a good
thing I heal quickly.”

“I wasn’t about ready to let this case slip
through our fingers. Besides, watching you mope around all day is
very depressing. It isn’t healthy for you to stay secluded.”

The concern in her eyes pulled at his black
heart strings. It seemed like ages ago that she had walked into his
office wearing what resembled a handmade sack dress. She had looked
like a street urchin begging for a handout. How wrong he had been.
Now she shops at Christopher & Banks and developed a penchant
for anything floral. She didn’t as much wear the clothes as they
adapted to her. Gone were those shaky steps in her first pair of
heels. And gone was her fear of him. What she probably would never
outgrow was her fear of crowds. Quite understandable considering
how her parents had died.

Skizzy emerged from the backroom and set a
laptop on the counter followed by battery packs. He disappeared
into his hidey-hole again.

“I think we need to stop at Subway and pick
up some sandwiches, maybe pack a cooler with bottles of water, cans
of soda,” Sara suggested. “We’ll need some ammo, just in case the
ghosts are human.”

“I can deal with the human kind. Don’t know
what we will need for the other kind.”

“Padre will probably bring the holy water,”
Sara said with a laugh.

Skizzy returned and added two oblong silver
cases to the collection on the counter, and something Dagger could
swear was a geiger counter.

“Hold up. I don’t have time to learn how all
this stuff works.”

“I know.” Skizzy smiled revealing a mouth of
mismatched teeth. “Which is why I’m going with you.”

Skizzy and a house of roving ghosts. Dagger
didn’t know which scared him more.

“How are we going to handle this?” Chief
Wozniak asked Padre. “We can't tell the widow that his tattoo is
fresh. Hopefully, she won't notice. And we can't give her his
clothes back. She might recognize that they are the same clothes he
wore when he left fourteen months ago.”

“Definitely not. I'll just tell her Forensics
has his clothes. They will be cutting them up, processing them.
There won't be much to give back. I'll just give her his watch. We
didn't find a wallet on him. And with any luck she won't notice
that the tattoo is still fresh. We can dance around that subject,
tell her Forensics had to put some oil or something on it to make
an impression which is why it looks so fresh.”

John tapped the watch. “Uh, I don’t think we
can give her the watch.”

“Why’s that?”

“It stopped on the date that her husband
disappeared.”

Wozniak saw a figure approaching from down
the hall. She was attractive in a country girl sort of way. A
short, no-fuss hair cut, framed a heart-shaped face. “Here she
comes.”

Padre met Kara partway. Her eyes were red and
swollen and she clutched her purse like a life vest. Padre clasped
both of her hands in his. “Our heartfelt apologizes for your loss.
I know this is devastating for you. Is someone watching your little
girl?”

“My parents drove in from Indianapolis. Bella
is with my mom. My dad is parking the car.”

“That's good. You should have someone with
you when you identify the body.”

A tall man in a suit appeared in the doorway.
He patted stray hairs as he hustled down the corridor. Padre
introduced himself and Wozniak. Lee Atwater shook each of their
hands firmly, then wrapped an arm around his daughter. His face was
a mask of sorrow as he kissed Kara on the side of her head.

“What a horrible thing to happen, Sergeant.
Kara's mother and I were so critical of Rick at the beginning,
thinking that he had up and left our daughter and granddaughter.
Then to have this happen. Do you have any idea where Rick has been
all this time?”

“We are still trying to piece together the
last fourteen months. The fact that he didn't have identification
on him could signify robbery and assault. It's possible he had
amnesia. We just won't know until we get his photo out to the other
cities to see if anyone recognizes him.”

“When will the body be released so we can
make arrangements?” Lee asked.

Kara clung to him tightly, a .pressed to her
face.

“I should know something from the medical
examiner tomorrow.”

One of Luther's assistants opened a door and
poked his head out. He nodded toward Padre. “They are ready.” Padre
accompanied them into the room and watched as an assistant in blue
scrubs pulled back the sheet. Kara let out a sob and buried her
face in her father's shoulder.

“It's him,” Lee said. “It's Rick.”

Lucky for Padre, Kara did not ask to have the
sheet brought down past Rick's head.

“Where was he found?” Lee asked.

Padre looked at Wozniak. The chief replied,
“In an unincorporated area outside of town. It will take awhile to
track his whereabouts for the past fourteen months. We will first
send his picture out to area hospitals and then widen the
search.”