Satan’s Lambs (28 page)

“Sally too?” Neil asked.

“Sally too.”

It was a small Jeep, high off the ground, roll bar across the top. Eloise, Neil, and Shelly were wedged in the back. Moberly drove, and Lena shared the passenger seat with Sally. Lena pushed Sally's head away.

“What about that one?”

“That old thing? That's old lady Eggle's pickup. She's not in on this.”

“Slow down. Move, Sally. Slow down and let me look.” Lena checked the license number. It wasn't on the sheet.

“Daddy, I'm
hot
. This is boring. You said we were going to swim.”

“I said we might swim, Neil. It's too cool. Your mama would skin me if I let you catch a cold.”

“My other daddy would let me swim.”

“Your other daddy's a lot of fun, Neil, I know that.”

Shelly smiled. “He would not, Neil. He wouldn't let you swim if Mama said no.”

“Nobody does anything when Mama says no.”

Moberly grinned. “Ain't that the truth.”

Lena's head began to ache.

“Getting hard to see,” Moberly said. “We'll try one more place. Then I've got to get the kids back. Okay, Lena?”

She nodded.

Moberly turned onto a dirt forest road, moving uphill through water-filled ruts.

“You get a lot of rain yesterday?” Lena said.

“Our fair share.”

Mud caked the tires. The road was narrow, and tree branches whacked the sides of the Jeep, making Neil squeal and duck his head.

“A little shrimp like you doesn't need to duck,” Shelly said.

Neil punched her shoulder.

“Daddy, Neil's acting up.”

“Hush, both of you.”

The road climbed uphill, and petered out into the forest. There were no cars, no tire tracks. Moberly stopped the Jeep. He took a pair of binoculars from the glove compartment and scanned the woods.

“Nothing, Lena. Sorry.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Remember the deal.”

“Sure.” She would take Eloise Valetta to a hotel. She would come back alone. She would ignore the deal.

Moberly turned the Jeep around, bouncing it through deep, muddy ruts. The sun was all but gone, and it was getting cold. Neil leaned against Shelly. She put her arm around him, and he closed his eyes. Lena looked into the side mirror and watched Eloise silently scanning the woods.

Moberly paused at the end of the dirt road, watching traffic. He waited for a van pulling a dirty green bass boat, then turned onto the two-lane highway.

“Maybe you should check that one,” Shelly said absently.

“What one?” Ted said.

“The one we just passed.”

“Shelly, there's no turnoff between here and the landing.”

“It wasn't on a turnoff. It was back in the trees, behind those rocks.”

Moberly looked at Lena.

“Please?”

He turned around and backtracked two miles.

“I think you passed it,” Shelly said.

Moberly frowned. He turned around again, dipping into the grass on the side of the road, then pulling back onto the highway.

“There's no car along here, Shelly.”

“Yes, there is. It's yellow. I think it's a Honda.”

“Sing out when you see it.”

“There, Daddy, see?”

“Those the rocks? I don't see anything.”

“Pull up. It's behind the trees.”

Moberly parked the car in the grass on the side of the road and craned his neck.

“See?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I see. Good eyes, Shelly.” He looked at Lena. “Come on. Bring the list.”

“I want to go,” Neil said.

“I should go, I saw it,” Shelly said.

“Stay in the car,” Moberly told them. Something in his tone of voice kept them quiet. Shelly folded her arms, and Neil put his chin in his hands.

“Guess we're never getting any supper.”

Lena glanced over her shoulder at Eloise and the children. She didn't like leaving them.

“Stay, Sally,” Moberly said. He looked at Lena. “You coming?”

She got out of the Jeep.

The ground was soft, the thick grass waterlogged. The car was about a hundred feet into the woods, behind the rocks, and it had chewed up the underbrush getting there. A bird whistled, then was silent. Moberly moved quickly, a few feet ahead.

“Lena?” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Look there. Tennessee license plate.”

Lena stopped behind the car. “Knox County. Knoxville.” Her hands were shaking as she pulled the computer printout from her pocket. Ted looked over her shoulder. It was hard to see in the dying light, but they both found it at the same time.

“I'll be damned,” Ted said.

“The clinic. Let's see. Belongs to a Delgado, Charlene Delgado.” Lena chewed her lip. “Charlene. Charlene. Oh, Jesus H. Christ.”

“What?”

“That's the secretary, the one at the clinic. The last one to see Charlie. Mendez and I talked to her. She said Valetta brought Charlie in and didn't act right with him, and that she was worried about him. She said he seemed hungry and she gave him suckers. She sat there …” Lena felt her face getting red. “She sat there and cried, that
bitch
. And promised to call if she remembered anything. Oh, God, how stupid. Mendez and Hackburton, investigating the hell out of that Dr. Whitter because she
seemed
so guilty. And all along it was that secretary and her crocodile tears.
Shit
.” Lena wadded the list of license numbers and jammed it in her pocket. She looked at Ted. “That's why Charlie hasn't been seen since. She took him. She's had him all this time.” Lena peered in the windows of the car, jerking the door handles. She moved away into the trees, and came back with a large rock.

Moberly caught her arm.

“Lena, what are you doing?”

“Breaking in, and don't try to stop me.”

“Put that rock down and hold still. I mean it. Hold still. I'll be right back.”

Ted headed back through the woods to the Jeep. Lena looked through the car windows. McDonald's bag, a folded copy of
The Knoxville News Sentinel
, an empty can of Sprite. No little boys sleeping on the seat.

“You'd make a lousy car thief,” Moberly said. “You don't even watch your back.”

“Shit. Don't scare me like that.”

Moberly held a slender strip of metal. He pushed it down between the top of the window and the rubber molding. The metal caught the door lock and pulled it up and open.

“Where'd you get that?” Lena said.

“People are always locking their keys in their car. Pretty inconvenient, way out here. Just be glad she didn't have those theft-proof locks.” He opened the driver's door and reached across, unlocking the passenger's door on the other side. “I'll take the front, you take the back.”

Lena went to the other side of the car. It was a two-door. She fumbled for the latch at the base of the seat, and pushed it up and out of the way.

Moberly was rummaging in the McDonald's bag. “Big Mac,” he muttered. “Phew. Large fries. Ah. Happy Meal.” He looked at Lena, and held up a multicolored cardboard box. “Chicken McNuggets. Didn't eat all his french fries. Barbecue sauce. Aw.”

Lena looked up.

Moberly held up a plastic hamburger man on wheels, still in the cellophane bag. “He didn't get his toy.” Moberly tucked the toy in his shirt pocket. “Lena, don't you cry on me now.”

“I'm not.”

“Sure you're not.”

There were newspapers on the back seat. And wads of tissue. Lena looked down at the floor of the car. One of the newspapers had been shredded into small pieces—odd, irregular shapes torn out. She scanned the back seat, looking for the signature mosaic. She looked over the seat at the back ledge and caught her breath.

“What is it?” Ted asked.

“He was here.”

“What?”

“Come look.”

Moberly leaned over the front seat. Lena pointed.

“Dust,” Moberly said. “And torn-up newspaper.”

“You don't understand. Go get Eloise. Let her look at it. She'll know.”

Moberly stared at Lena, eyes dark and worried. “He really was here, wasn't he?”

“Go get his mother. He really was here.”

Eloise Valetta came quickly, stumbling through the underbrush, the patch over her eye sliding sideways. She stopped at the car door and looked at Lena.

“Eloise, I want you to try and clear your mind, and just answer one quick question. You say sometimes you and Charlie liked to go to McDonald's?”

Eloise nodded.

“What did he like there? What did he want you to order?”

Eloise began to breathe hard. “You found him,” she said. “He's dead.”

“No,” Lena said. “He's not dead. But I think he was here in this car. Take deep slow breaths, Eloise. You okay? Now what did he like to order?”

“I … God, my mind is a blank.”

“It's okay. Take your time.”

“He … he liked. Oh. Those nugget things.”

“Chicken McNuggets?”

“Yeah. He … that's right. He'd have a Chicken McNugget Happy Meal, with barbecue sauce, french fries, and ketchup. And he usually left two McNuggets, and about half of the french fries.”

Lena looked at Moberly.

“Right on the money,” he said.

“Okay, Eloise. Now I want you to look at this newspaper on the floor of the car. See that?”

“Yeah.” Eloise's voice had gone high-pitched and breathy.

“Move over, Ted. Can you look over the seat okay? Look at the back ledge and tell me what you think.”

Lena held her breath.

“Oh, Lena, oh, my God, he was here. Charlie done that. He was
here
.” Eloise's breath came quick and hard, and tears rolled down her cheek.

Lena held her shoulders. “Keep it together, El. Don't fall apart on me now.”

“Lena—”

“Come on, sweetheart.” Ted Moberly put his arms around Eloise and pulled her gently from the car. “Come on, back to the Jeep.”

“But he—”

“He's not in the car now, Eloise. You come on back to the Jeep with me.” He looked over his shoulder at Lena. “No mud on the tires. This has been here since yesterday, anyway. You lock it up, put everything just like it was. They may check back, and we don't want anybody getting suspicious. Don't want anything to get in the way of tonight's big party, before we get there.” He looked at Lena. “You and me. We'll get the boy back.”

47

Shelly and Neil stood side by side, their eyes wide and alert. Eloise sat on the edge of the living room couch. Sometimes she looked at Lena. Sometimes at Neil.

Ted Moberly held up a shotgun. He broke it open and offered it to Shelly.

“Now, I loaded it for you, see there?”

Shelly nodded.

Moberly snapped the gun back into place and handed it to his daughter. “You know how to use it. Jordan should be here in an hour. Until then, anybody you don't know tries to come in here”—he looked at Eloise—“
you
get on the radio. Shelly”—he looked at his daughter—“you plug 'em.”

“Aim for the knees?”

“No, baby. Tonight you aim at the chest or stomach. Tonight is serious business. Just don't open that door for anybody but Jordan.”

Neil took hold of Shelly's hand, his eyes wide. Moberly grimaced.

“Should have sent
you
upstairs before the lecture.” He bent down, balancing on his haunches. “Neil, this is all just in case. Nothing's going to happen. If I thought it would, I wouldn't leave you. And if something
does
go wrong”—he patted the dog—“Sally here is a super good watchdog. She won't let anybody bother you. Just knowing she's around will keep most folks away. And Mr. Jordan will be here before too long. You going to be all right?”

Neil nodded. “Shouldn't you call the police?”

“Son, the police we trust are a long way away. We tried, but they weren't at their office.”

“Can I have a gun? Like Shelly?”

“No sir, not yet. You want to learn to shoot?”

“Sure do.”

“I got rules for that. You don't touch that shotgun, it's loaded. You be good, and tomorrow I'll take you out and get you started. “You're awful young. But if you're ready to try, I'm willing. A boy who is big enough to leave a loaded gun alone when he's told to, is big enough to start learning. We understand each other?”

Neil nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Good.” Moberly stroked the boy's head. “It's full dark now and we got to go. You kids take care of Ms. Valetta, you hear?”

They nodded.

“I'll be back. Now, I got three movies I rented for you, so watch the VCR all night, if you want. Make popcorn and hole up together in here.”

The kids grinned. Eloise Valetta watched Neil.

“Be good,” Moberly said. Sally followed him to the door. “Sally, stay.”

She whimpered.

“Guard, Sally.” He opened the door.

Sally yelped and barked once.

“Sally.”

The black Lab lay down, and sank her head between her paws.

“Stay now, girl. Guard.” Moberly looked at Shelly. “Lock this door behind me.”

Lena followed him out onto the porch. Moberly paused, listening to the locks click into place.

“We could wait till your friend gets here,” Lena said.

“No. We're cutting it close as it is. We got a ways to go just to get there.”

Lena headed for the Jeep.

“Not that way,” Moberly said. “Come on.”

He headed around the back of the house, past a small black barn, then into the woods. It was dark now. The ground sloped downward, and Lena followed slowly. She went left through the underbrush. Moberly grabbed her arm.

“Poison ivy,” he said. He pulled her to the right-hand side of the path. “This way.”

They went another fifteen feet, then they were out of the woods, angling down a slope of wet sandy soil.