Little Belle Gone (36 page)

“Why go there? We know she isn’t there and finding her is
the
number one priority for me, saving her is my
only
priority, actually. I think we should go to the Sanders Avenue house.” Anger flushed her cheeks. They weren’t going to investigate another crime scene, they were going to create one. Heading to Alex’s apartment seemed like a waist of time when she was sure she knew exactly where he had taken her. Jack heard her anger and tried to temper it with some logic of his own.

“I doubt seriously he will use that house again. I know you think it means something to him, but I think he used up all of that meaning when he killed the Kirds there. What I do think is that he will have left us a clue to where he has taken her at her apartment. He still thinks like a cop, remember? So he is expecting us to behave accordingly.” She could tell that he was growing upset, but she didn’t much care. It wasn’t his best friend that was in the hands of a murderer; he wasn’t facing the very real possibility of losing yet another person close to him.

Frustration and rage barely restrained, Liz snapped back, “Which is exactly why going there is a bad idea! If it’s what he wants it’s a mistake. No doubt he has left some horrific calling card, something specifically designed to unnerve me and make me weak. And I’ll be damned if I am going to let him rattle me, not now! Not when Alex needs me! I can’t fail her! I can’t...” Her voice cracked and fled. Tears streamed down her face, cooling the heated rage in her cheeks. He didn’t understand, couldn’t seem to grasp how personal this was for her and she didn’t have the time to explain. For a long moment the van was silent again, save for the sniffles and sobs coming from her as she tried valiantly to end her tears. Then Jack’s voice broke in again, though this time it was calm and kind.

“You’re probably right, but I still think we should go to her place first.” She couldn’t believe it. He agreed with her, knew how dangerous it would be for her, and yet he still wanted to go. As if he could feel her confusion, he continued, “He has most likely decided that the only way to defeat you, to
collect
you, is to beat you down before he faces you. I read your academy file, Liz, the very afternoon Matt brought you to see me that first time. He can’t hope to defeat you in a fair fight, not with your training and skill level, but no one ever said it had to be a fair fight. He is trying to unnerve you. But I think that’s exactly why we should go. I don’t really think he can, that you are beyond his reach.” She gasped. For the first time, she seemed to understand his meaning. The angry heat in her cheeks was replaced with embarrassment as his compliment sank in.

“You’re stronger than he knows, Elizabeth. Stronger than you know. A warrior, remember? No one else could have seen the memories, the personal nightmares, you saw today and been able to move, let alone set out like we have. No one but you.” Matt’s voice startled her. Not because he hadn’t spoken up until then, but because of the confidence in it. She couldn’t respond, only blink in disbelief. They believed in her while she doubted herself. “I think Jack is right. It will be hard, but I will be there with you. Whatever he left there for you, we might need it to finish this. I think we should go.” Nodding stupidly, considering neither of them could see her, she slumped back against the uncomfortable bench seat and sighed.

“Okay.” Her voice was soft but sure. If they truly believed she could handle it she would try her best to believe it too. “Just the other side of the next bridge you need to take a left onto Clark.” With that, she started a short set of instructions that led them to Alex’s apartment complex. It had been over a year since her last visit, but nothing on the island ever changed, at least not where townies were concerned. Once inside the complex, the maze of side streets and cul-de-sacs spread before them, but she managed to remember the intricate directions necessary to get them there. As they rounded the last corner, their destination became apparent. A large crowd of police cars and a few news vans completely blocked the narrow street ahead of them. Elizabeth swallowed hard when she saw Claire, normally a rock for others to lean on, slumped meekly, resting on the hood of a cop car at the edge of the circus. She pinched her eyes closed and gathered all the fragments of courage she could find in her heart. No matter how weak she felt, she needed to be strong for Claire, and for Alex.

Matt pulled the van to a halt about twenty yards away from the circus and turned to look back at Elizabeth again. Though she looked a little paler than he would have liked, she seemed solid. He had meant what he said. He truly believed she could handle what they were about to discover, he only hoped that he could stand with her. He didn’t want to put her through this, didn’t want to let her see what was waiting for her, but as Arrons had said, it was meant for her. Smiling sadly when she met his gaze, he flicked his head and opened his door. He could hear the side door slide open and then bang closed as he slammed his door behind him. Fishing his badge out of his pocket, he repositioned in on his belt and checked his holster as he moved around the front of the van. Within a few seconds, Liz’s fingers slid into his waiting hand and the three of them moved together toward the chaos.

Her small hand was so cold and he could swear there was a slight tremble to her fingers, though he couldn’t decide if it was the cold or fearful anticipation that was making her shake. When he squeezed her gently, she squeezed him back firmly and his spine stiffened slightly. He noticed Claire at the exact moment that she noticed Elizabeth. Sliding his hand free of hers, he took a slight step away in preparation for what he could see coming. Claire shot off the hood of the car, with speed a woman of her size and age should not possess, and launched at Elizabeth. Wrapping around her neck, the older woman said nothing, only sobbed openly into the auburn cascade of Elizabeth’s hair. Arrons nodded to him and then left the emotional scene to go speak with the local cops standing outside the apartment door. Matt did not move away, but stood patiently waiting for Claire to compose herself.

“Oh, Liz, you shouldn’t have come here.” Claire’s voice was hoarse and strained as she finally pulled back from Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Not here. It’s too awful.”

“We know he left a message for me, Claire. We know him, too well, actually.” Elizabeth tried to support the large woman’s swaying figure but was failing. Matt, seeing the effort she was exerting, chimed in. He reached for Claire’s left arm and lifted her slightly. The older woman blinked up at him for a moment and then smiled.

“Oh yes, the partner. Thank you...Matthew, was it?” Matt smiled weakly and nodded as she gave him the better portion of her weight to support. He could tell from the way she carried herself that the fright of the afternoon had left her on the verge of a breakdown. Helping her around, he and Liz escorted her back to the hood where she had been reclined when they arrived. “I was so pleased to see that Liz had found a gentleman when you came to see me last time. She will need you now. That man, that monster...he...he knows things about her he shouldn’t know.” Her eyes were wide with terror and it became contagious. Matt could feel the chill leaking from her flesh to his as he tried to imagine what missive could be left within that would cause her such disquiet.

Much to his amazement, Claire’s warning seemed to affect Elizabeth conversely. Her posture improved and he could tell from the implacable set of her jaw that she was steeling her heart. Pride and desire shot through him like an arrow. It didn’t matter how ugly the world around her became. She was, is, and would ever be, the most beautiful woman he had ever, or would ever meet.

“He knows a great deal about who I was, Claire, he has no idea who I am.” The confidence and determination in her voice stole his breath. He dared not look at her for fear he would be lost. In spite of everything, even in a place like this, facing what they were surely facing, she could heat his blood to boiling with the smallest gesture. That kind of strength of spirit, after all she had been through, was enough to set his heart racing.

As they helped Claire reposition herself on the cop car, another voice rang out through the din of confusion. Matt was almost grateful for the distraction. Helping Claire had left him within arms reach of Liz and the heat coursing through him was almost powerful enough to cause him to do something rash. One more heroic lift of her chin or confident nod of her lovely red head would send him launching at her, wanting to drown his tension in her sweet curves.

“Detectives, I’m glad you’re here. Looks like the same guy alright, only this time the vic. is alive, or at least seems to be. I mean, we haven’t gotten a report of a body discovered anywhere yet.” Shuffling closer to them, spewing his callus words without thought or consideration for Elizabeth or Claire, was detective Bill, the rather brusk man they had met for a few moments at the Sanders Avenue scene. Much the same as last time, he gestured for them to accompany him and Matthew waited for Elizabeth to break away from Claire before he wrapped his arm lightly around her waist. Whether Bill noticed or cared meant little to Matt. He needed to feel her in his arms. “Looks like the vic. was getting ready to go out when the assailant kicked in the door. He must be a big son-of-a-bitch, he broke the damn door in half. After that it looks like she fought him off and then he carted her out. What’s strange is what he wrote on her bathroom mirror. I think that might be for you.” Reaching the front door as he finished, Bill turned and pointed a chubby finger directly at Elizabeth and Matt cringed.

“Thanks, Bill, but I think we can show ourselves in from here.” Matt was trying to be polite, but it was proving to be far more difficult than he expected. Looking into the entryway, he could see the shattered door, signs of a struggle, what’s more, he could feel the rage welling up in Liz at his side.

“Her name is Alexandra, and Alex is my best friend, Detective. I would thank you kindly to speak about her with respect.” Elizabeth’s tone was visceral as she pulled away from Matt lightly, scowled at a flabbergasted Bill, and entered the apartment without so much as a toss of her dark head in his direction. Matt couldn’t help the wicked grin that tugged lightly at the corners of his mouth as he nodded to the shocked detective and followed her into the scene. There were signs of a struggle everywhere he looked, but Matt didn’t have time to evaluate the scene like he normally would. Elizabeth was on a mission and he was doing his best to keep up with her. Rounding a corner, he stepped through an open door into a ransacked bedroom. Clothes were tossed all over the floor and the bedding was pooled beside them, barely clinging to the far corner of the bed. For one horrified second he was frozen. Thoughts of Moreano violating Alex filled his mind, drowning him in despair. He might not know her well, but he knew Elizabeth and what that would do to her and it killed him. As if she knew what he feared, she turned back. Though she seemed unable to give him even a weak smile, her voice was light as she said, “It always looks like this, Matt. Alex is a slob.”

He looked up to see the warm clarity of her eyes and felt the growing cold in his bones give way to the warmth of her gaze. He needed that. Catching up to her in two steps, he took her hand and held it at they entered the master bathroom. There, written in lipstick, was a message that could only have come from Moreano.

Naughty little Belle. You lied to me. Looks like I have to make do with the help. But we both know that blood is blood
.

Matt read the words slowly to himself as he felt Elizabeth squeeze his hand. Turning to face her, he could see the same truth in her frightened eyes that he had reached. “George.” They stood frozen for only a second before turning and heading for their vehicle at an even faster pace than they had entered the apartment. At the front door they found Jack engaged in a professional discussion of the scene, and the collection techniques the locals were using, with Bill. Their quick re-emergence seemed to stun Bill. He had apparently expected them to linger over the scene, evaluating the clues and signs of struggle for hints.

“You’re leaving?
Already
?” He seemed disturbed by the thought, but Matt had no time to explain.

Nodding curtly toward Bill’s befuddled expression, he turned to Arrons and said, “He has George. We need to hurry, before it’s too late.” He and Elizabeth never stopped. Once the exchange was finished, their pace quickened in the direction of the van, leaving Arrons to quickly catch up. Elizabeth had climbed into the passenger seat next to Matt before Jack could make it to the van.

“Who is George?” His voice was soft as he slid into the back seat and fished for the seat belt. Matt was too busy trying to turn the over-sized van around in a neighboring driveway to answer. When Elizabeth’s voice pierced the silence, his heart jumped. She didn’t sound frightened, even nervous. She sounded fierce, solid. It made the hot blood already coursing through him to turn molten.

“My aunt and uncle’s butler. I have known him as long as I have known Alex. Judging by his note, Harvey knows that Mark and Aggie are out of the country and he is upset that he’s having to make do with replacements.”

With a few instructions from Elizabeth, Matt managed to find the road that led into the countryside, one he had driven once before. As the familiar signs of up-sweeping real estate values flew by his window, he began to dread what lay ahead. If they arrived at the Targstead estate and found nothing but another cryptic note, or worse, another brutal crime scene, devoid of a killer or usable clues, he felt sure that Elizabeth’s confidence would falter. What’s worse, he was truly afraid that his would fail as well. If she lost her footing he wanted, needed more than anything, to be the rock she would require, but he could not pretend that these events did not affect him as strongly as they did her. He had fallen in love with her too far, too fast, and too deep not to feel the power of this tragedy as she did. He risked glimpses of her out of the corner of his eye as he maneuvered the top heavy vehicle swiftly around curves and corners that it wasn’t built to handle at those speeds. She sat stoic in the seat next to him, her face so blank he began to fear she was already gone.