Phoenix Feather (25 page)

“Thanks,” he said, his voice betraying more emotion than his face was willing to.

Trent put the plate in front of him. “You’re welcome. Are the dog supplies in the trunk?”

Bryan nodded and Trent took the keys from him. Aidan put on her boots to help bring in the dog food, bed, and toys.

“Oh,” Phoebe gasped. “You guys are amazing.”

“Um,” Bryan coughed. “There are some more gifts in the paper bag.”

Trent rummaged around until he found two small boxes wrapped in plain brown paper. Aidan smiled at the simple wrapping. She found it sweet, and fitting to Bryan’s personality. One had her name on it, and she felt slightly apprehensive as she carefully undid the tape on both ends. She pulled out a plain cardboard box and opened the lid. She was stunned. Inside on a piece of white tissue lay an eighteenth century sundial compass, an authentic one at that. Aidan ran her fingers over the hand-polished bronze. She used to have one like it, back when it was the standard way to tell time. She watched the needle swing as she swayed from side to side.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “Thank you.”

He shrugged one shoulder in discomfort and grabbed his mug to occupy himself. Aidan smiled. The man was growing on her. She could see how proud Trent was, which only made her happier.

Phoebe squealed again in delight at something Gypsy did, or possibly even just for looking at her with those big brown eyes. Aidan laughed at the sound. It was nice, and reminded her of what life had been like two months ago, before the diagnosis.

Trent came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. He leaned his head next to hers and swayed with her in his embrace. “Do you want one?”

She laughed. “Maybe later. I think I’ll enjoy being a doting aunt first.”

Bryan stood up from the table. “Thanks for the waffles. And for the gift.”

Trent released Aidan and rolled his eyes. “You’re not trying to leave already, are you?”

Bryan’s mouth set in a grim line. “I want to close this case.”

“Is Jess still at Kathy’s?” When Bryan didn’t answer, Trent continued, “You can at least stay until she calls to say she’s going back to work.”

Bryan’s jaw worked as though to argue, but he didn’t, so everyone migrated to the great room where they could talk and watch the puppy play. It was a memorable Christmas for many reasons, both sad and happy. In so many ways it felt like a shift from the life they had all been leading to a new path. The trip had meant to be a break from everything, one that would end and they would return. Aidan hadn’t known that it would serve as a launching ground, and that they wouldn’t be going back to the way things were. While it saddened her in the way loss does, she was excited for what it might also bring.

***

Any other Christmas or birthday before now, Bryan might have scoffed at such a gift. Today though, it was like the beacon of a lighthouse pointing him in the direction he needed to go. He had been making progress, as Jess and Trent kept affirming to him, but a small part of him still had to force things. Rock climbing, however, at least back when he used to do it, came naturally. The gift card to the store with the indoor rock wall was just what he had been looking for: that next step to reclaiming the life he had abandoned.

He was glad he came up for Christmas. He was even glad he picked up that puppy from the pet store and did that favor for Trent and Chris. The gratitude everyone seemed to be feeling for each other felt almost electrifying, making every topic of conversation worth laughing about and participating in.

Bryan watched the way Trent held Aidan in his arms, and the way she leaned into him. They both had serene looks on their faces. He could see them together for many years, and he was surprised by the sudden image of his own parents leaping into view where Trent and Aidan sat. He wanted to relax and just be happy for them, but there was still that nagging, that irrepressible fear of something he had yet to put an end to, and it threatened to terrify him more than any other evil he had ever faced.

“Are you guys going to stay through the New Year?” he tried to ask nonchalantly.

“I have to be back at work Sunday,” Trent replied.

Bryan nodded in understanding, but inside he felt the urge to try and convince them to stay. If they went back to the city before Bryan could arrest the serial murderer, then Aidan would be in danger again. He tried to calm himself by thinking about how she had been safe this week, and had had a wonderful time in addition to that. Bryan just wished he knew what he could do to keep it that way.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID. “Merry Christmas, Jess.”

“Merry Christmas!” the others around him shouted.

“I’m glad to hear you’re still up there,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said with a small smile. “But I’ll be heading back soon.”

“No need. I had an idea, but we can’t act on it until tomorrow.”

“About the case?” he asked, and moved to the kitchen where he wouldn’t be overheard.

“I was thinking about how we were making this list of possible targets,” she began. “And it occurred to me: how did our killer get his list?”

Bryan paused at the thought. “He’d have to have access like we do.”

“Right. So I figure we take that sketch of Scott we got from the chop shop guy to the State Adoption Department. It’d be possible for him to break in and just steal the records, but if he was going to get the records from other states, I think he probably works for Social Services.”

Bryan snorted. “Not a bad way to make a few contacts for his side businesses.” And then Jess’s previous comment clicked. “But the offices are closed on holidays.”

“It’s just one day, Bryan. Enjoy time with your friends. We’ll get him soon.”

“Yeah.” He knew she was right, but that didn’t make him feel like following her advice. They were closing in, only to be put off by a day any normal person looked forward to every year. It was a little infuriating. “No new disappearances or bodies?” he asked.

“None.”

What is he doing?
“Okay. See you tomorrow.” He hung up and went back into the great room.

“Work calls?” Trent asked.

“Not really.” Bryan sat down again. “If you can bear it, I can stick around a while longer.”

Trent grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

Phoebe and Chris took Gypsy outside for a walk, Trent went to clean up the remnants of breakfast in the kitchen, and Aidan started gathering up the pieces of wrapping paper and stuffing them in a garbage bag. Bryan helped by picking up the scraps near his chair.

“Thanks for the gift card.” He had noticed her name inside the envelope.

“Have you ever gone climbing in the mountains?” she asked.

“A few times in college.” He hadn’t realized what he’d lost when he let those friendships go.

“Does Trent like it?”

“He’s gone with me once or twice.”

Aidan smiled. “I bet he’d go again. And I’d be up for a new challenge.”

Bryan stared at her. What an image that brought to his mind: the three of them camping in the mountains, rock climbing. It didn’t look half bad. Then, unbidden, came the image of nieces and nephews. So ridiculous was the vision that Bryan laughed out loud.

“What?” Aidan asked.

He shook his head and tried to school his features. “Just wondering if you had a sister,” he covered.

She smirked. “Sorry, no. But Phoebe would love it too.”

Bryan lowered his eyebrows at her. “Not very subtle.”

“Neither were you.” She grinned impishly.

He laughed and conceded. “Trent’s a lucky guy.” He watched Aidan automatically look back to the kitchen where Trent was washing dishes.

“I’m the lucky one,” she said softly. “So was it good or bad news that made you able to stay longer?”

Bryan stiffened. “Good news that won’t take effect until tomorrow. But we’re close,” he said, feeling the strange need to reassure her of an end to a danger she knew nothing about.

“Good.” She tied off the trash bag.

He stood up and took it from her. “I’ll take it out.” Once outside, he could hear the laughter of Phoebe and the yips from the dog. They brought back so many memories of family gatherings growing up: grandparents cooking in the kitchen, children playing outside in the snow, his cousin’s dog running after squirrels. Memories that used to oppress him now made him smile. Once again, though he hadn’t planned it this way, he was glad of the way things turned out.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bryan pulled up in front of the small apartment complex and killed the engine. Three marked police cars came in from the other side of the street.

“Apartment Seven,” Jess said from the passenger seat.

Bryan got out and unclipped the holster of his gun. Scott Copeland lived at this address, halfway to Lynnwood. The picture in his employee file at the Department of Social and Human Services looked like a good match to the police sketch. And today was his day off.

Bryan and Jess waited at the bottom of the stairs until officers confirmed they had all the exits covered, and then they went up. Jess knocked on the door as Bryan stood off to the side and out of sight of the peephole. No one answered. He motioned for an officer to use the entry tool to pry the door open with a snap. They drew their weapons and charged in, shouting and announcing their identification as police.

The one-bedroom apartment was easily cleared. Scott Copeland lay in his bed, completely wasted. The oppressive smell of alcohol hung in the air. Bryan surveyed the empty liquor bottles lining the dresser and night table and the condom wrappers that didn’t make it in the garbage can.

“Someone had himself a little party,” he muttered.

Jess snorted in disgust. “Get him back to the precinct to detox.”

Two officers hauled Scott out and Bryan and Jess went about searching the apartment. They found drugs and a few hiding places for wads of cash, but nothing to prove he was the serial killer they were looking for.

“No list,” Jess said hours later, bitterness lacing her tone. “An apartment is not the prime location to torture four women.”

“No,” Bryan agreed, equally disappointed. At least they finally had the guy in custody. Trent and Aidan would be coming back the next day, and Bryan could relax a little. “We have the cars though. We’ll get a confession.”

They drove back to the precinct and began gathering background information on their suspect. It would be a few more hours before he’d be sober enough to talk to them coherently.

“College graduate,” Jess said. “Got high marks. Looks like he was busted for running a few money-making scams on campus, but was never expelled.”

“Sounds like he got into social work for exploiting rather than helping people.” Bryan really wanted to find out what made this guy tick. Was it an ex-girlfriend who had spurned him, someone who had red hair and was adopted? Bryan couldn’t find any indication that Scott had known any of the previous victims, but many times serial killers saved their most precious victims for last. He grimaced at the thought, and as much as he wanted to protect Aidan, asking her about past relationships didn’t seem like a good way to go.

“I wonder why he stopped.” Jess rocked back in her chair, the gears squeaking. “He’s been showing up for work as usual. He partied the night away last night with one can guess what kind of companions.” She shook her head in confusion.

“We’ll just have to ask him.” Bryan glanced at the clock every so often, anxiously ticking away the hours until they could get that piece of scum into a room and finally get the answers they needed. Bryan checked himself. Sometimes there were no answers to the hardest questions, such as why.

An officer eventually came to inform them that Scott had been transferred to interrogation, and that his attorney had also arrived. This news dampened their enthusiasm a bit. They gathered up their files and headed to the Interview Room.

Scott’s lawyer stood as they entered. He wore a prim suit, but his wide comb-over dampened his attempt at looking serious. “I’m Mark Briggs, representing Mr. Copeland.”

“Have fun with that,” Jess muttered.

Bryan coughed lightly and they both took a seat across the table. “Your client is a suspect in four homicides.”

“What?” Scott spoke up.

“You didn’t inform my client at his arrest?” Briggs asked.

“He was unconscious and drooling at the time,” Jess replied.

“We have testimony that Mr. Copeland sold four stolen cars to a chop shop,” Bryan continued. “These four cars belonged to the four women kidnapped, tortured, and murdered over the past few months.” Bryan fixed Scott with a glare.

Scott held both his palms up. “A guy asked me to take those cars off his hands. He said he needed them to disappear, and I could make some extra cash taking care of it for him.”

Bryan and Jess exchanged a look.

“That story’s already been used,” she said.