Mind Games (41 page)

Diana chastised herself. By interrupting him, she’d pulled him from the past into the present.
Stupid. Put him back there.
“What about the third girl? What happened with her? How did he kill her?”

Macon thrust out his jaw. “He didn’t. I did. I didn’t mean to, but I did.” He slipped back in time to the moment that turned into a murderer. “She came on to me, kept telling me I was good looking. I didn’t know she was thirteen. She was small but looked eighteen, all made up and strutting her stuff. I just wanted to have sex, but she started screaming when I entered her. She was little and I’m…well, you know what I am. Even then.”

Diana heard Alice’s intake of breath, heard her rustle in her seat. As if the woman didn’t hate Diana enough, now she knew what Macon had done when he’d kidnapped her.

Unaware of what he’d implied or even that Alice was there, Macon continued his story. “She wouldn’t stop screaming. I had to shut her up. I pressed my thumb on her windpipe until she stopped making noise. I came while I watched her die. I’d never experienced anything like that explosive, purely sexual feeling.” He laughed, then said, “Fucked up, I know.”

Alice gasped louder, but she kept quiet. Both of them ignored her.

“He guessed, that devil who called himself my stepfather. I never confessed. The day he killed the last girl—the one you found, the one I went to jail for murdering—he’d borrowed my truck. He picked me up from school. She was walking home. I knew her. She was a couple of grades behind, but we sat together in the library a few times. I liked her, nothing sexual like the girls who would do anything I asked. This girl was nice. I didn’t want to see her hurt. He asked if she wanted a ride, and seeing me she thought she’d be safe.” Macon snorted. “I tried to warn her off, but she got in. He drove down the road where you found her and pulled her out. I begged him to let her go. She was screaming, and he hit her to keep her quiet. I tried pulling him off, but he fought me to the ground and hit me hard. I guess I lost consciousness for a minute. When I came to, he was in her.”

Macon’s eyes were damp. He rubbed them so hard Diana thought he’d push them to the back of his head.

“She looked at me with half-open, pleading eyes. Then she was quiet. I begged him to stop, but he wouldn’t. I took the shovel out of the pickup and hit him over the head. He started to get up. He was mad, crazy mad, and came after me. I hit him again. And again. I guess I went a little crazy, because I kept hitting him. I wanted him to stop hurting her, but when I went to help her, she was already dead. They were both dead. I didn’t feel anything sexual.” He hesitated. “I didn’t feel anything at all.”

Diana couldn’t speak. The story was worse than she imagined, almost as if Harley Macon didn’t have a chance. That circumstances beyond his control had planted the seeds of evil without his knowledge or compliance.

Lost in his own story, he stood up and walked a few paces. “I carried him off and buried him deep in the woods. I threw some leaves over her until I could get back, but when she didn’t come home from school, her parents called the police, and they called you. You found the body before I could bury her. Before I had time to block you out.” He glanced at Diana. “I hated you for that.

“When they arrested me, I figured they couldn’t pin the murder on me, because I didn’t do it. I was wrong.” He shrugged. “So much for justice.”

Justice was on the money, you sick bastard.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Between Justice and Revenge

“N
o doubt about it,” Jenrette said. “Macon’s fingerprints are all over the place. Mayburn’s too. Must have been here a week or so from the looks of things. Any luck down there?”

“He’s got Diana. Snatched her out of the hotel a couple of hours ago using a newspaper reporter who was doing a story on her. About killed him.”

“You mean he left a witness?”

“Yup, so he could tell me I won’t be able to save her again. I have fucked this up, McCoy. I left her alone before the cop came on guard. If anything happens to her—” Lucier stopped. “Macon keeps slipping through my fingers. If I ever get him in my sights, I won’t let it happen again. I promised Diana I’d keep her safe, and I didn’t.”

“I don’t like talking vendetta shit, but I’ll make an exception this time. If you get the chance, take him out, but take him out right.”

“We haven’t a clue where he is, just a number made from a cell phone registered to Castor’s business about the time we think Joey Dree was in his restaurant. Problem is, the call was made to a local distributing company. There must be two hundred employees on second shift and a not very cooperative owner. We’re checking to see if he owns other properties that Macon could use for a hideout.”

“You haven’t found Castor?” Jenrette asked.

“He and his wife left for an unexpected vacation a couple of nights ago, and Dree’s disappeared. Not a trace of any of them. We put a watch on both cells. Nothing.”

“They’re hiding from you, Ernie. They’re guilty of something. Or dead.”

“I think Castor just skipped once he realized who he harbored, but I think Joey Dree’s bought the farm. Macon’s desperate and desperate men do desperate things. Right now I’m desperate too.”

“I’ll keep searching for Dree up here, although you’re probably right. I’ll call you if I have any news. Meanwhile, you take care. Keep me informed.”

“I will.”

“Oh and, Ernie, take it easy. You’ll get him.”

“I’ll get him all right. I only hope I’m not too late.”

Lucier hunched over his desk. Something had to break soon. He knew Macon wouldn’t drag it out this time. Oh no, he’d finish the job and get the hell out of town.

“We’ve got a couple of leads, Lieutenant,” Cash said, waving a notebook in his hand. “We checked Castor’s calls, and he’s buddies with the owner of Rico Distributing, Cappy Rico. He’s out of town at some food chain convention in Vegas. Left early this morning. His wife gave me his cell number, but he didn’t answer. I called the missus again. She didn’t want to help, but I reminded her of the liability if something happened in one of his buildings that she could have prevented.” He smacked the notebook. “Here’s the list of properties she knows about, but she said there may be more because she’s not privy to business information. I checked with Lands and Deeds and found one other building not on her list. I marked them on this map.” Cash pulled the map out of the notebook and spread it on Lucier’s desk.

Lucier called in Beecher, Halloran, and a few others.

“Now I’ve checked out Rico,” Cash said, “and the word is he’s straight. Started small and built the business with hard work. My guess is he’s clueless who he’s hosting.”

“Which property didn’t his wife tell us about?” Lucier asked.

“An old warehouse on the back end of Industrial Boulevard. Rico built a larger distribution center in the new part of the park but never sold the old one.”

“You’d think his wife would know about that one,” Beecher said.

“Maybe she thought he sold it,” Cash said. “He hasn’t used the place for business in years.”

“Or maybe he uses it for something else. Something he doesn’t want his wife to know about.”

Since two of Rico’s properties were residential, and two of the three industrial sites were in heavily developed areas, the group’s decision was unanimous—the old warehouse seemed the perfect location.

“Pull the guys together,” Lucier said. “We won’t have the cover of night, so we need to plan the best approach to the warehouse without spooking Macon.”
If he’s even there.

After ironing out their strategy, they left in two cars. The building was at the end of a dead-end street. They could park a block or two away and circle around on foot without being seen.

“One last word,” Lucier said, after they gathered outside the cars. “If this is the place, no matter what we find, Macon is mine.”

When the group dispersed, Beecher stayed, narrowing a cold, hard stare at his boss.

“What are you looking at me like that for? Don’t you think I know the difference between justice and revenge?”

“Ordinarily, yes, but these aren’t ordinary times. This man isn’t another suspect. He took your woman. Not once, but twice.”

Lucier stared back. “You’re beginning to sound like my conscience.” He put his hand on Beecher’s shoulder. “You finished?”

“Yup.”

“Then let’s go.”

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Coming Unglued

D
iana had to keep Harley talking.
Come on, Ernie. I’m here. Find me.
“You were innocent. Why didn’t you tell the truth at your trial?”

“And implicate myself in three more murders, one of which I carried out all by myself? Three murders everyone thought I’d committed anyway? I’d die in prison of old age. Besides, I was a minor. Good chance I’d get off with a few years. All the evidence was circumstantial. A fucking pebble in my tire, a footprint near the tracks. How could a jury convict me on that? Certainly not enough for the death penalty, even if they did. When my court-appointed attorney explained that, I decided to keep my mouth shut and hope for the best. Either way, I was going to prison.” Macon plunked down on the sofa next to Alice. “I played the odds and lost.”

“But I never found the others.”

“Every time the police brought you in, the papers made such a big deal. I blocked you. Except for the first girl. I never knew where she was. I wasn’t sure I had the power, but I did, and I didn’t need a T-shirt either.” He laughed. “I proved my point. You weren’t so perfect after all. The little prodigy failed.”

Diana fought to restrain her ego. She wanted to argue the point, to defend her record, but she didn’t need to prove her percentages to him. “How did you explain the disappearance of your stepfather?”

“He wasn’t my stepfather,” Diana had never heard words delivered in such a cold, unforgiving voice. Macon’s voice pierced through Diana’s skin like icicles, cold and unforgiving. “He was my mother’s fuck. And they never found him because they never looked for him. I told the cops he’d left with another woman. Ha. That they believed.

“You know, I could touch a person, and if I tried, I could see his fate, just like you. I knew the monster would die. But I didn’t know I would kill him.”

“But why hate me? I was a child. I never found the murderers, just their victims.”

“I couldn’t let go. All those years in prison I thought about how I could have been like you. How I could do what you did. Even now.”

In that moment, Macon woke from the false sense of security into which Diana had lulled him. “Don’t you think I know what you’re doing? You’re buying time so the cops will find you. They won’t find you this time. You have to die, Diana. Don’t you see? I won’t be free until you do.”

Alice sat silently through Macon’s story. But now that it looked like he’d come to his senses, she said, “You gotta get rid of her, Harley. You told her too much. Don’t go soft now.”

Macon acted like he’d forgotten Alice was there. He dragged his focus from Diana. “Don’t tell me what to do, Alice. I make the decisions around here.”

“Fuck you, Harley,” Alice spit out. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d’ve been caught by now, back in jail, fucked by the first faggot got you alone. I got you this far. Me. I put my life on the line. For you. If you get caught, I go down with you, and all because you ain’t got the balls to do some snot nose bitch who could put us both on death row.”

Macon turned around and punched Alice so hard she staggered across the large room. He stared down at her, his face contorted. “I never once asked you to do that.” His voice was calm. “Fact is, if you hadn’t you’d be dead now. So don’t get in my way. I need to think.”

Alice groped to a standing position, her cheek marked in red where he’d hit her. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. “What’s to think about? It’s either her or me, and she ain’t gonna do the things to you I can.” She moved closer, put her hand on his crotch. “We deserve each other, Harley. She says you two are alike. That’s bullshit. We’re two of a kind. See, I don’t give a fuck if you did everyone in prison. I don’t care if you screwed your mother or your father or did them both at the same time. She was a pig, like my father. Kill Diana and let’s get the hell out of here while we still can.”

Macon raised the gun in a shaky hand and aimed at Diana.

Afraid Alice’s words were getting through to him, she said in the soft therapeutic voice that had worked before, “Your mother wasn’t a pig, Harley. Tell Alice that. Tell her your mother loved you. She came to visit you in prison often, didn’t she? Would she have done that if she didn’t love you? No, you were her one and only.”

Alice’s patience had run out. “I can’t listen to this shit another minute. Dammit, Harley, kill the bitch. Isn’t that what you wanted all along? Can’t you see what she’s doing? She’s trying to get into your head, distract you from what you gotta do. Kill her, goddamn it, kill her. If you won’t, I will.” She grabbed Macon’s arm. “Gimme the fucking gun, Harley.”

Macon yanked his arm away. “Shut up, I said. Just shut up. And stop saying my name in every goddamn sentence.”