Snake Skin (19 page)

"I'll finish setting up the equipment first.
My family knows how important my job is. Sometimes there's a price
to pay."

Lucy bit back a sigh as a sudden image of
Megan, her face flushed with fever, dashed through her mind. "Yeah,
there's always a price. I'll see you tomorrow."

Taylor came up behind them. "Hey, LT," he
said. "Fletcher said you forgot these on your op this morning."

She turned as he released a cascade of
rubber snakes from a pressurized can. She yelped and batted the
things away, realizing too late that the rest of the squad had
gathered around.

Everyone laughed except Burroughs, who
looked puzzled. Lucy joined in on the laughter as well. "Okay, you
guys. You got me good."

Walden came in, just in time to seen the
aftermath of the joke. "Can I have your autograph?"

He handed her a printout of a still shot of
Indiana Jones caught in the snake pit with a torch….only Lucy's
photo replaced Harrison Ford's face beneath his fedora.

"I'm not going to live this down, am I?"
Lucy said, thumbtacking the photo to the nearest corkboard. It was
good to see Walden had a sense of humor, she'd been beginning to
doubt that his expression ever shifted out of dour deadpan.

"I take it you had a run in with a snake?"
Burroughs asked as she ushered him, Taylor, and Walden into her
office.

"Told you, you should have taken me this
morning," Taylor said, plopping onto one of the chairs at the
conference table. "I'm not afraid of snakes."

"Neither am I—at least I wasn't until this
morning."

As Walden drew a time line onto the white
board and began to add all the points documenting Ashley's recent
behavior, Taylor gleefully told Burroughs about the op at the snake
handler's church. His version sounded much more exciting than the
real thing had—and far less messy. Burroughs straddled a chair
behind the conference table and pivoted to grin at Lucy.

"Gee, the glamorous life you feds lead. So
were the twins molested? Or were the creeps really trying to save
their souls?"

Walden paused in his writing. "Staties said
they still aren't sure. The first forensic interview didn't get
much from them except they missed their parents."

"It's out of our hands," Lucy said, bringing
their focus back to Ashley. She remained standing, behind them,
pacing the area between the table and her desk.

"She planned this," Taylor said, eagerly as
if it was an original thought.

"With help," Burroughs added. "No way a girl
her size could have gotten the waitress's body into that bin by
herself."

"So there must be two," Walden said. "Either
Ashley working with someone, or someone else coercing Ashley."

"Either way there had to be communication."
Burroughs took the handoff. "What did you get from her cell
phone?"

"Just the Fegley kid. And nothing from him
in over a month. Only other calls were from her mother."

"So who
has
been talking with Ashley
this past month?" For the first time Lucy spoke. She still didn't
agree with their assessment, but she wanted to hear their thoughts
without influencing them with her own opinions.

They looked at each other. "She has another
cell," Walden suggested. "Bought herself a prepaid."

Trying on theories was like trying on new
shoes and so far they all pinched Lucy's toes. Until now. Walden's
suggestion felt right. "Untraceable."

She narrowed her eyes at the board. She
didn't like committing to one line of investigation or one theory
of the crime too early, but Ashley had been missing twenty-nine
hours already. Statistics said if she were taken by a stranger or
coerced by a predator, she'd be dead in less than
forty-eight—actually, most were dead within three hours of an
abduction, but Lucy refused to think that way.

How could they be this far into things and
nothing still made sense?

"What about Tardiff?" she asked.

"Not in any registry, never charged with a
crime," Walden supplied. Lucy leaned forward, hearing an implied
"but" in his tone. "However, he has had several civil actions
brought against him for improper supervision of a minor. All
settled out of court, all sealed."

"Well hell." They all knew what "sealed and
settled" was code for: guilty. She moved to the front of the room
and a clear space at the board. Wrote Tardiff's name up high. "So
we have one freaky-deaky involved—"

"But as far as we know he hasn't even been
in town lately and hasn't had contact with Ashley," Taylor
said.

"Then it's your job to track him down,
verify his whereabouts. I don't want to wait for the New York
office to get back to us."

Taylor nodded eagerly, his puppy-dog grin
returning now that he had a new bone to play with. "I can cross
check his calls with mom's, see if he's using an alternative cell,
maybe we can track him that way."

"Just do it. I'm tired of hearing about this
guy and not having any facts." She turned back to the board, wrote
Ashley's name. Below it she added: victim? Willing accomplice?
Coerced? Acting solo?

"I still say she couldn't do the Tastee
Treet girl by herself," Walden said as she wrote the last.

"The chick was pretty skinny," Burroughs put
in, obviously still liking the idea of Ashley as a do-er.

"So was Ashley," Walden argued.

Lucy tried to be objective. "Consider the
force needed to hold someone face down into a vat of 400 degree
boiling oil. They'll be fighting with everything they have and you
have to hold them there for what—a minute or two?" She shook her
head and crossed the solo item off their list. "I don't think so."
Burroughs opened his mouth to protest and she pointed the marker at
him. "Not unless your ME says otherwise. Why don't you follow up on
that as well as check in with Monroeville, see if anything else
popped during their canvas. Oh, and while you're at it, you can
phone in your report to the mayor."

His mouth snapped shut. Did he really think
she'd believe he was hovering so close to her because he liked how
she filled out her sweater? She may be new to Pittsburgh, but she
wasn't born yesterday.

He flashed her a sheepish grin. "Sorry about
that. It's an election year."

"Not really interested in politics right
now. I'm interested in facts. And we're pitifully short on them.
Which brings us back to her computer."

All heads swiveled to stare at Taylor. He
held up his hands, palms out, fingers splayed. "You guys need to
understand, these things take time."

"Just tell me what you have so far." Before
he could open his mouth, she added, "In English."

The light in Taylor's eyes dampened. He
opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Lucy placed her weight on the
table, leaning forward. "You and your geniuses have been at it all
day."

"We have a lot of possibilities—we're
analyzing every fragment we can isolate, I've a team working on
tracking the scrubber program back to its source code, another one
tracing her email and online activity. But there's nothing
concrete, no solid leads." He hung his head. "I'm sorry, we need
more time."

Lucy straightened, wrapping her arms around
her chest, holding back from telling Taylor what they all knew.
Ashley Yeager didn't have more time to spare.

Ashley was motionless. Jimmy would have
thought she was asleep, except that her eyes were open. Staring
into space, staring straight into his heart.

Pressure built behind his eyes. One finger
stroked an eyebrow as he grew clammy with sweat. Was it time?

He crouched before the video monitor as if
by getting closer to the screen he could get closer to Ashley. Only
one chance to do this right. He glanced over at the large aquarium
that sat on the floor beside the monitor.

Dozens of snakes coiled, slithering over top
of each other, confined to an impossibly small space. Several
raised their heads and stared at him with cold, reptilian eyes.
Jimmy didn't like snakes. It had taken every ounce of courage and
will power for him to collect them.

Ashley was even more terrified of them than
he was. She'd told him about what her father had done to her,
forcing her to handle anacondas and other snakes in front of crowds
of visitors to the zoo when she was young. How he'd chided her for
her fears, tried to "cure" her of them by making her handle the
snakes until she'd broken down in terror during one of the shows
and wet her pants.

Jimmy wished there was another way. He
tapped the wall of the aquarium and the mass of snakes writhed as
if it were a single creature. None were poisonous, of course not.
But their effect on Ashley would be devastating.

The whole point. She had to break with her
old life in order to join him in their new life together.

Only one chance. Was she ready?

The lilting sounds of his Piano Man ring
tone jolted him. He checked the number. Alicia.

Ashley and step four would have to wait.

Family first.

Chapter 17

Saturday 10:41 pm

Melissa's footsteps echoed in the empty
house. She was exhausted but couldn't sit still long enough to fall
asleep. Her sister had arrived from Philadelphia, cooked them and
the sheriff's deputies a huge meal, picked a fight about Melissa
not eating, and then retired to the guest room while Melissa
prowled the house, trying hard not to think. Finally Melissa ended
up in Ashley's room.

Blissfully alone. It felt good after a day
where strangers had dogged her every movement, where she had to
play a role for the cameras and reporters, where her emotions
repeatedly swamped her, dragging her down until she had nothing
left.

She didn't turn the lights on. The bed
sprawled, a ghostly white square in the middle of the room. Naked.
The police had taken the sheets and covers. For what Melissa did
not want to dwell on.

They had left Ashley's pillows. Melissa
climbed onto the barren bed. The air conditioner cycled on,
startling her with its chilly breath. She curled up into a fetal
position.

She had no one else to hug, so she hugged
herself, burrowing into the pillows, trying to escape.

The faint sound of a phone ringing propelled
her from unconsciousness.

It was all a dream, was her first thought as
her hand shot out, searching through empty air for the phone.

It wasn't there. She rolled over, eyes open
now, realizing where she was. In Ashley's room. On Ashley's bed.
Alone.

It wasn't a dream.

The phone rang again and her heart slammed
into her throat as she leapt from the bed. How many times had it
rung already? She ran down the hall to her room, her bare feet
drumming against the hard wood in a frantic, primal rhythm.

"Don't hang up," she called out even though
she knew the sheriff's people wouldn't let that happen. She lunged
across her bed, snatching the receiver. "Hello?"

At first there was only silence. Melissa's
chest heaved with adrenalin, her heart pounding so hard she
couldn't swallow.

"Hello? Ashley? Is that you?" Her voice was
sandpapery with unshed tears. "Speak to me. Ashley, where are
you?"

More silence. Melissa's hand clenched the
phone so tightly her fingers went numb. So did her lips and toes.
During those few seconds her entire body became one impenetrable
block of ice.

"We know your secret." A taunting, sing-song
voice that wasn't Ashley's jolted through the air.

She leaned forward, elbows between her
knees, fighting nausea. "Where's my daughter?" She couldn't feel
her tears against the frozen tundra of her face, but she saw them
as they splashed her robe, small, irregular dark splotches on the
shiny silver fabric. "Please let me talk with her, I beg you.
Please."

Laughter was her only answer.

"Allegheny County is relaying a call. It's
coming from the kid's phone." Burroughs poked his head in from the
bullpen as Lucy was talking to Ashley's English teacher.

"I'll have to get back to you, Mrs.
Forrester." Lucy hung up and rushed out to where everyone gathered
around Taylor's station.

"Where's my daughter?" Melissa Yeager's
voice shrieked through the speakers.

"We know your secret," came a man's whisper.
Followed by the sound of laughter. Then the click of a receiver
being hung up.

"Too short to trace, but if they don't turn
the phone off, we can get GPS," Taylor announced to everyone. He
touched his Bluetooth earset. "I got it, thanks." His fingers
tapped methodically on his keyboard for a moment before he swiveled
to face the H-Tech team. "Okay guys, we've got the file. I want the
voice analysis and background noise dissected like yesterday."

The computer guys broke up into smaller
groups, chattering eagerly. A chance to get in on a real-life
real-time possible kidnapping was much more exciting than playing
with internet porn.

"Play it back for me," Lucy asked Taylor.
"Burroughs, you get on the horn with Verizon and you don't hang up
until they have coordinates for us. Walden, reach out to the mom,
tell her we're working it, we'll let her know as soon, you know the
drill."

Before she could say more, Melissa's voice
filled the air once more, sounding tissue thin, shredded. A
computer screen filled with jagged waves as she spoke. The entire
conversation lasted only thirty-eight seconds.

"Sounds like a man," Taylor said.

"Play the laugh again," she directed. They
both listened to the final seconds of the call. "That was more than
one person. At least two, and one of them sounds like a woman."

"She's right, Taylor," one of the H-Tech
volunteers called out from a nearby desk, one ear covered with a
headphone. "Two people: a man and a woman. Stress analysis
indicates possible intoxication."