The Clockwork Teddy (31 page)

“What do you possibly have that I could want?”

“Your life. Your freedom. You could very well go free on all the charges if you make the smart decision now.”

There was a brief pause. When Lauren spoke again, I could tell that she’d moved away from the front door. “Open the door slowly and come in. But if you try anything stupid, I’ll kill you and then your wife.”

Twenty-seven

Tucking my cane under my left arm, I opened the door, which squeaked on its hinges.

Lauren snapped, “Leave your cane outside!”

I propped my cane against the porch rail and limped inside. The living room was mostly in shadows, except for a diffuse cone of yellow light emanating from a lamp on an end table. Lauren stood near a threadbare sofa and she was aiming what looked like an old pump-action twenty-gauge shotgun at me. Smaller than a police shotgun, it was a firearm intended primarily for bird hunting, but at this range it could kill a Lyon, too.

“What’s that in your hand?” she demanded.

I held up the robotic bear’s head. “Proof that Rhiannon ran Kyle down.”

“You could have done that yourself.”

“I’m not as devious as you are, Lauren.”

“Come inside and shut the door, slowly.”

I did as I was ordered and then I saw Ash. She lay sprawled and motionless on the wooden floor near the stone hearth of the fireplace and I had to peer at her chest to make sure she was breathing. My wife’s hands were resting on her stomach and secured together at the wrists with bonds made from silver duct tape. The heavy-duty tape also bound her ankles. But what rocketed my terror level up into the stratosphere was that she still wasn’t awake. Lauren had drugged Ash nearly ten hours ago, which was more than enough time for most sedatives to wear off. Yet my wife remained completely unconscious, which almost certainly meant that she’d received an overdose of the drug.

Ash needed medical attention
now
and I suddenly realized that I wasn’t going to have the luxury of time to convince Lauren that surrender was her best option. That meant coming up with a hasty and probably suicidal new plan. I limped a couple of steps closer to Lauren, until we were just a few feet apart.

Then she brandished the shotgun. “That’s as far as you come.”

“It’s as far as I want to come. I just wanted a better look at my wife.”

Although I was trying to keep an impassive demeanor, Lauren saw the fear in my eyes and said, “She’s fine. I took her gag off hours ago.”

Knowing it would strengthen her bargaining stance, I resisted the urge to blurt:
No, she’s not fine, you freaking psychopath. She’s been overdosed.
Instead, I bounced Patrick’s head once in my hand and replied, “Gee, am I supposed to say thank you?”

Her eyes flicked from the robot’s head to my eyes, yet the gun remained aimed at my midsection. “Don’t get smart with me. I could have killed her.”

“That’s true, but here’s some advice: From now on, your story is that you prevented Kyle from killing her.”

“What are you saying?”

“Oh come on, Lauren. As brilliantly as you’ve plotted this thing, please don’t tell me that you haven’t given
this
scenario some thought.” I bounced Patrick’s head in my palm again and Lauren’s eyes involuntarily followed the movement.

“If you’re suggesting that I betray my son . . .” She took a step forward and now the muzzle of the shotgun was a scant foot away from my abdomen.

Doing my best not to wet my pants, I said, “Hey, somebody has to be thrown to the wolves and it’s in your best interest if it’s Kyle. You know why?”

“You seem to know everything. Tell me.”

“Because his attorney is going to portray Kyle as one of Professor Pavlov’s poor little salivating puppies.”

“What are you talking about?” Her eyes narrowed.

“The lawyer is going to say that you physically and emotionally abused Kyle throughout his childhood, which resulted in him becoming conditioned to obeying you without question.” I tossed Patrick’s head in my palm again. “And I’ll bet that lawyer will even be able to find at least two or three liar-for-hire academic experts to bolster that claim.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“No, actually that’s a clever defense, especially since Kyle will get up in the witness box and testify to how you’ve utterly dominated his life.”

“My son would never do that!” Her face was growing pale with rage.

“Wrong. Even with a gun in his hand and me at his mercy, Kyle made sure I understood that this was all your doing. Take it from me. He’s going to give you up, Lauren. He’s weak,” I said regretfully.

I made as if to bounce the robot’s head in my palm once again. This time, however, I threw it to my left and across my body. As I’d hoped, Lauren’s eyes instinctively followed the flight of the white furry skull. That’s when I made a two-handed grab for the shotgun and wrenched the barrel upwards and to the left, away from Ash. Lauren jerked on the trigger and the gun went off only inches from my left ear.

Stunned by the deafening blast but otherwise unhurt, I tried to keep my hands on the pump action so that Lauren couldn’t chamber another round into the weapon. She was shrieking obscenities at me and sent a vicious kick at my groin. I half-blocked the blow and attempted to yank the gun away, but she clung to the weapon with an iron grip. Then there was another loud discharge and it took me a second to realize that the shotgun hadn’t caused it. It was the much louder detonation of a stun grenade. Having heard the shot, the SWAT team was making entry into the cabin.

In an instant, the living room was full of people wearing black uniforms and Kevlar coalscuttle helmets. One of the SWAT members shot a short burst of pepper spray into Lauren’s eyes and I suddenly had sole possession of the shotgun. Unfortunately, I was so close to Lauren that some of the ricocheting spray hit me in the face. It felt as if someone had just stuck a blazing road flare into my eyes. Meanwhile, Lauren was gang-tackled and she screamed in fear and pain.

Actually, I assume she was tackled, because I couldn’t see much through the swimming haze of burning tears. I handed the shotgun to a dark form that I could just barely discern as a SWAT guy and then dropped to my knees and blindly crawled toward Ash. When I found her, I pressed my ear up close to her mouth and nose. She was breathing, but her respiration seemed very shallow and far too slow. Now it wasn’t just the pepper spray that was causing my tears.

Cradling Ash’s head in my arms, I bellowed, “We need paramedics in here, now!”

A few seconds later, there was someone next to me. Pulling my arm, she said in a gentle yet firm voice, “I’m a paramedic. You have to let go of your wife.”

“But—”

“You’ve been pepper-sprayed and we can’t run the risk of that stuff migrating into your wife’s eyes.”

“Daddy, you have to let them work. They’ll take good care of Mama.” I felt Heather’s hand on my shoulder.

Reluctantly releasing my grip on Ash, I said, “Okay, but help me into the kitchen, so I can wash this crap out of my eyes.”

“Come on, sir,” said Colin, slipping his hand under my arm.

I was assisted to my feet and as I lurched toward the kitchen, I could hear Lauren wailing and sobbing about how badly
her
eyes hurt.

Gregg said to her, “We’ll wash them out when we get down to county jail. Then we’ll book you for murder and as many other felonies as I can think of.”

“Kyle killed that man! He threatened to murder me too if I didn’t go along with the kidnapping!” Lauren sobbed.

“Your son got run down by a car because he stayed loyal to you and it took all of fifteen seconds for you to decide to rat him out? Lady, the EPA ought to declare your soul a toxic waste dump,” Gregg sneered.

“You don’t understand. My son is a monster! If you need any proof of how evil he is, just look at the vicious computer games he’s designed,” she implored with a sniffle.

I caught myself before I could tell Lauren that if Ash died, I hoped the jury would buy her story. If she were free, it would make it that much easier for me to hunt her down and kill her. However, the cardinal rule for getting away with murder is to keep your mouth shut before and after the event.

“Jeez, get her out of here before I’m sick,” said Lieutenant Garza.

Lauren was still crying and protesting her innocence as the SWAT team dragged her from the cabin. Heather and Colin led me into the kitchen and I bumped gently against the counter. Then I heard the sound of water splashing into a sink. I reached out with my hands to find the faucet and then bent over to allow the cold water to wash my eyes. It was agonizing at first, but I forced myself to endure the pain. The sooner I washed away the pepper spray, the sooner I could return to Ash’s side.

I heard footfalls on the kitchen’s linoleum floor and then Gregg said, “You are one hell of a cop, partner.”

Spitting out some water, I replied, “How is Ash?”

“Okay, I think.” Gregg tried to sound reassuring, but I could perceive the doubt in his voice. “They’re getting ready to transport her to town and then airlift her to Sacramento.”

“Has she regained consciousness?”

“Well . . . no.”

“I’ve got to go with her. Give me a towel or something,” I said.

“There isn’t going to be any room in the air ambulance, but we’ll get you to the hospital. Don’t worry,” said Garza.

“And you haven’t rinsed your eyes enough, Daddy,” said Heather, pushing gently on my shoulder.

Bowing to the inevitable, I stuck my head under the faucet again. This time it didn’t hurt so much. Meanwhile, I heard the distinctive metallic clicking sound of an ambulance gurney being either elevated or lowered. Pulling my head from the water, I again tried to go into the living room to be with my wife.

Blocking my path, Garza said, “Brad, you saved Ash’s life, but now you need to let the paramedics do their job.”

“And you still have enough pepper spray on you to make
my
eyes sting,” said Gregg.

“Daddy, I’m scared for Mama, too. But we’d just be in the way,” Heather added.

“Okay, but I want someone to promise that I’m not going to sit around here for another thirty minutes waiting for a ride back to town,” I snapped. I realized that everyone meant well, but I was becoming frustrated.

Captain Tewksbury stuck his head around the corner. “You’ve got it. I have two patrol units standing by to transport your group into town.”

“Thanks, Captain,” I said, and then stuck my head back under the faucet.

Although my ears were still ringing from the gunshot and the stun grenade, I heard a truck engine roar to life and then the howl of a siren over the sounds of the rushing water. The paramedics were taking Ash to Jackson to rendezvous with the air ambulance. I rinsed in the cold water for another five minutes or so. When I stopped this time, Gregg handed me a roll of paper towels. I dried my face and hair as we headed for the door, pausing only for a second to retrieve my cane from the porch.

The sheriff’s deputies drove at such a breakneck speed back to Jackson that we almost overtook the paramedic van as it arrived at the small community hospital. I was relieved to see that an air ambulance was already on the helipad, with its engine idling. However, I had to watch from a distance as Ash was wheeled out to the chopper on the gurney and put inside the craft. Then the helicopter’s engine began to race and a few seconds later the air ambulance rose into the twilight sky.

“Where are they taking her?” I asked.

One of the deputies replied, “Sutter Medical Center in downtown Sacramento.”

“Time’s wasting. Let’s roll.”

“Sorry, partner, but we can’t go.” Gregg held out his right hand. “We have to interview Lauren and then process the cabin for evidence. Call me when you hear anything.”

“I will and give my best to Danny,” I replied, shaking his hand. “Oh, and you have my permission to give me a swift kick in the ass if I ever ask to go to another homicide scene with you.”

Turning to Garza, I extended my hand, but she brushed past it to give me a hug. “Thanks for being the best training officer a cop could ever have. Now, go and take care of that lucky wife of yours.”

I joined Heather and Colin in the sheriff’s cruiser and we took off. It was almost fifty miles to the hospital, but the deputy covered the distance in just over forty minutes. By the time we arrived at the emergency room entrance of Sutter Medical Center, the helicopter had already landed and Ash was in a treatment room. Fortunately, since we’d arrived with an Amador County cop, there weren’t going to be any of the usual hassles over whether the hospital could release information to me about my wife’s medical condition—not that there was anything to report yet. We were ushered into the staff’s break lounge and told to make ourselves comfortable.

Over two hours passed in mostly nervous silence before a doctor came in to tell us that Ash had briefly regained consciousness and was going to be all right. The identity of the drug used to sedate my wife was still a mystery, so the hospital was going to admit her overnight for observation. I hugged Heather as she buried her head in my neck and began to sob with relief. Colin joined us for a group hug and then I grabbed the phone to call Chris, but remembered he was still airborne. I left a message on his voice mail and then telephoned Gregg with the wonderful news. As I spoke with my old partner, I could hear Garza
whoop
for joy in the background.

It was nearly midnight before they moved Ash to a room in the Intensive Care Unit. A nurse came to lead us upstairs. Suddenly shy, Colin remained outside in the corridor, while Heather and I went into the room.

Even knowing she was going to make a full recovery, the sight still hit me like a kick to the stomach. Dressed in a pale blue hospital gown, Ash was lying on the bed and obviously still asleep. She had an IV attached to one arm and was hooked up to all sorts of medical monitoring equipment. Heather crept up and kissed her mother softly on the forehead. Ash didn’t stir.

“Chris’s flight is going to be landing soon. I have to call the PD and have someone pick him up,” whispered Heather. She gave me a peck on the cheek and left the room.