The Many (23 page)

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Authors: Nathan Field

BOOK: The Many
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20

 

Dawn stepped out onto the sidewalk, the cold night air pressing against her cheeks. She moved to the edge of the restaurant canopy, trying to escape the doctor’s hand at the small of her back. Looking up the road she could only see silent, stationery cars. No exhaust fumes; no parking lamps.

Where the hell was Karl?
He should’ve been hovering outside, waiting to follow them.

“Cold night, hmm,” Dr. Reynolds said, putting his arm around her waist and leaning into her. Dawn tensed at his touch, surprised by the presumptuous move. He was drunk, she thought, or at least tipsy. She willed her muscles to relax, remembering she was supposed to be semi-sedated, but her body wouldn’t respond. Every last ounce of her wanted to wriggle free.

“Don’t worry,” the doctor said. “I know the valet looked untrustworthy, but this is a reputable restaurant. They wouldn’t hire a common thief.”

Great: the arrogant fuck thought she was worried about his car being stolen. Dawn gritted her teeth, remembering the end game. “I’m just so tired,” she said. “And I noticed how his eyes lit up when he grabbed the keys.”

“A Jaguar has that effect,” Dr. Reynolds laughed, giving her a squeeze. “If he’s a thief, he has very good taste.”

Dawn continued looking anxiously up the road, struggling to see through the after-rain haze. There was still no sign of Karl. Maybe the car had been booted, or the engine wouldn’t start. She wondered if she should duck back to the restroom and give him a call. It would look suspicious, but there was no way she was getting into Dr. Reynolds’s car unless she was 100 percent positive Karl was behind them.

“There,” the doctor said, squeezing her again.
She wished he’d stop doing that.
“Told you he wouldn’t be long.”

Across the road, headlights flashed across a row of storefronts as a car turned into their street. Hearing the engine’s soft purr, Dawn’s stomach churned.

“You can relax now,” Dr. Reynolds said as his dark Jaguar pulled up in front of them.

Dawn was about to tell him she needed to back to the restaurant to throw up when a dull set of parking lamps blinked on at the side of the road. She could just make out a tousle-haired silhouette in the driver’s seat.

Karl.
He’d been there all along.

“Are you all right, Rosie?” Dr. Reynolds asked, seeking her eyes. “You look pale.”

“It’s the cold,” she said weakly, knowing then that she would see the plan through to the end. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me. It’s like my batteries ran out.”

“We’d better get you home then,” Dr. Reynolds said, guiding her forward.

The grinning valet held the door open for her. He probably thought she was just another young floozy who’d had too much to drink. Dawn lowered herself into the passenger seat, the cold leather squeaking under her. She glanced again at the valet as Dr. Reynolds circled the car. He was no longer smiling, staring at the crumpled bill in his palm. It figured that the doctor was a cheapskate.

“Laurelhurst, wasn’t it?” he said after buckling himself in.

“Yeah, Southeast 48
th
Avenue,” she said, wriggling down further in her seat.

Dr. Reynolds took a moment to study her, his eyes running over her face like a scanner. Dawn met his gaze, blinking slowly. Hoping like hell her face didn’t look as nervous and guilty as she imagined.

“Not too far,” he said, turning to the front and putting the car in gear. “But take a nap if you’re tired. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

“Okay, thanks,” Dawn said, yawning.

As soon as she closed her eyes, she heard the central locking click.             

 

Karl eased the car out as the Jaguar rolled by, heading south down the avenue. They’d chosen a bogus address in Laurelhurst because there was only one logical route to take, which also happened to be the way to Mount Hood. If Karl got held up in downtown traffic, he could easily catch up with the Jaguar on the expressway. 

He didn’t envisage any traffic problems, though. The city had gone to bed early and there were long spaces between cars. His biggest challenge was not to appear too conspicuous – a test he almost failed at the second intersection when a tailing car forced him to pull right up to Dr. Reynolds’s bumper. Karl lowered his head, pretending to fiddle with the stereo, and was relieved when the Jaguar took the next right, continuing towards the on-ramp.

“Fuck off,” he muttered at his cell when it started singing from the passenger seat. How many times would McElroy call before he got the message? They were doing fine without him. In half an hour, they’d hand the detective his case on a plate.

Merging onto the highway, Karl let a green hatchback in between them, giving him just the right amount of cover. The Jaguar set an even pace in front, staying a few miles inside the speed limit. Dawn’s head was no longer visible – she must’ve been slumped down in her seat, pretending to black out. She’d have to go through the rest of the ride with her eyes shut. Karl hoped she was keeping it together, for both their sakes.

He was struggling to remain calm himself. His mind was already in the woods, preparing for the final act. His eyes flicked regularly to the glove box, where he’d stored the gun. He was fully prepared to use it if Dawn’s life was in danger. Dr. Reynolds, Maxine, Leach – he’d shoot the lot of them if he had to. There was no room for fear.

Just stay focused
, Karl told himself, tightening his grip on the wheel. When his mind wavered, it helped to think of Stacey and what she must’ve gone through in Leach’s basement. The pain she’d lived with afterwards. When he found out the details, he knew they would shock him to the core.

Those fucking animals,
he seethed, feeling strong again
.
Karl didn’t care if he was hopelessly out of his depth. He was going to make them pay.

21

 

The light behind her eyes darkened as they left the city behind them. The whooshes of passing vehicles had gradually slowed, and now minutes went by when all she could hear were the Jaguar’s tires slipping over the road. Dawn imagined the river on her left, smooth and black as an oil slick. The tangled woods on her right, breaking through the icy ground.

Keeping her eyes closed was harder than she’d imagined. The temptation to look around was overwhelming, especially when she sensed the landscape changing outside. She peeked through her eyelashes at regular intervals, but only for a half-second at a time. A sideways glance from Dr. Reynolds while her eyelids were fluttering and it would be game over.

The biggest unknown, the thing she desperately wanted to confirm, was that Karl was still following in the Civic. She had no reason to believe he wasn’t, but the uncertainty was driving her crazy. What if he’d had an accident? The roads were wet and greasy – he might’ve got stuck behind a trailer and then taken a corner too aggressively in a frantic bid to catch up. Or the cops could’ve stopped him for speeding. The more she thought about it, the more she realized a millions little things could’ve gone wrong.

Dawn only realized she’d moaned when she heard clothes shifting beside her. The car dropped its speed and she felt Dr. Reynolds stealing glances at her between watching the road. Her features trembled, betraying her fear. Had he guessed she was acting? She’d only made a faint sound, an involuntary release of dread from her body. Surely it was normal to whimper and moan when you were drugged, just like when you were dreaming.

Her muscles unclenched when the car slowly accelerated again. As if to drown out any further disturbances, Dr. Reynolds turned on the stereo. Classical music – nothing Dawn recognized. Quiet horns and a violin playing a long, weepy solo. At first she was glad for the distraction, even if it wasn’t her kind of music. But as the solo progressed and the violin grew increasingly high-pitched, the sound started to grate, like a mosquito buzzing in her ear.

She wished for silence. But instead, Dr. Reynolds cranked up the volume so the music filled the car.

Dawn couldn’t even grit her teeth, afraid the tension would show on her face. Was the deafening music a deliberate ploy? A way of testing if she was really unconscious? She tried to block her ears to the sound, but the fucking violinist was demanding to be heard, playing note after fucking note….

“Brahms, violin concerto in D Major,” the doctor suddenly boomed over the music.

Dawn’s body jolted in fright.
Jesus Christ.
A voice was the last thing she’d expected. She swallowed nervously, realizing her mistake. He must’ve seen her reaction; known she was faking.

The doctor turned down the volume, chuckling quietly to himself. “It was always one of my favorites,” he said.

Dawn kept her eyes shut, keeping up the pretense even though she’d given herself away.
He had to have noticed.
But instead of calling her out, Dr. Reynolds continued driving.

It took a minute of uneventful silence before Dawn realized he wasn’t going to say anything. Either he thought she’d had a sleep twitch or he was going to play along until they reached the cabin. And playing along was fine, Dawn reassured herself. It didn’t even matter if Dr. Reynolds had guessed she was Isobel’s daughter, out for revenge. He didn’t know about Karl – that was the importing thing. The ace up her sleeve. As long as Karl was right behind them, everything would be all right.

 

Karl switched on the radio and found an alt rock station to soothe his nerves. They’d been traveling on the river highway for about half an hour, the temperature steadily cooling as they climbed higher. They were now deep in forest parkland, meaning Dr. Reynolds could veer off the highway at any moment. Karl wondered how much further they had to travel. The fuel gauge had dropped below a quarter full and he worried that the Jaguar had a tank the size of a refrigerator. Despite all their planning, stopping for gas was one variable they hadn’t factored in.

Karl was trying to remember the last gas station they’d passed when the Jaguar signaled a right and moved to the exit lane.
North Hill Road.
Karl took his foot off the pedal, easing into the trail. If he got any closer, Dr. Reynolds would surely notice. There wasn’t exactly a stream of traffic getting off at the North Hill Road exit.

The off ramp led to a traffic circle where the Jaguar signaled another right. Within seconds of following the gentle curve in the road, there was tall timber on either side, blotting out the sky. There were now only two of them on the road, driving up into the heart of the woods.

Karl snapped off the radio. Van Halen seemed inappropriate under the circumstances.

He was careful not to crowd Dr. Reynolds, staying one bend back from the Jaguar. The taillights were occasionally lost in the trees, but they would always show up again, like red eyes in the mist. It was a fine line though – he couldn’t let them get too far ahead. Lila Hewitson had described a dirt road, suggesting there was at least one more turn to come.

“You’re kidding me,” he groaned when his cell started playing again.

He was about to hit the reject button when he had a brain flash. McElroy couldn’t fuck up their plan now – they were already on the home turn. In a few minutes, Leach’s secret hideaway would be exposed. Now was the time to involve the police, not blow them off.

He brought the phone to his ear, keeping his eyes fixed on the red eyes in front. “Detective.”

“Karl,
Jesus
. Where the hell are you?”

“I’m following Dr. Reynolds, he’s about to lead me to Leach. I told you – he’s the one responsible for all the deaths…”

“…Okay, calm down. Where are you,
exactly?”

“Near Mount Hood. Just off the Columbia River Highway.”

“Just off, where?” McElroy pressed.

“I took the North Hill Road exit. Then a right at the traffic circle.”

“Right at the traffic circle,” McElroy repeated to himself. “What are you both driving?”

Karl gave a quick description of Dr. Reynolds Jag and the mud brown Civic, complete with license plates. He didn’t mention the Civic was Dawn’s car.

“Do you know where you’re heading?” McElroy asked next.

“To a cabin in the woods, where they took Stacey and Isobel. I don’t have an exact location, but it’s on a dirt road. We must be almost there.”

“What do you mean –
we?
Is Dawn with you?”

“Yeah, she’s here,” he said, not mentioning she was in the car in front.

“Listen to me, kid – you need to turn around now. They’re playing with you.”

Karl’s mind stalled, briefly thrown by the suggestion. “No, we’re playing with
them
,” he said confidently. “I told you, they’re taking us right to Leach’s doorstep.”

“You think it’s that easy? I’m familiar with Ivan Leach, okay? He’s managed to evade the police, the FBI, and the Marshalls office for over two years. Either he’s very clever, or he’s getting a lot of help. Either way, he’s not about to be outsmarted by a couple of kids.”

“We’re not fucking kids,” Karl said angrily, suddenly wishing he’d never answered the call.

“I’m pretty sure Virgil was involved, too,” McElroy continued. “I can’t believe he just stumbled on the connection to Leach. I think they were using him to push you down a certain path. And after he’d served his purpose, they killed him.”

A sick feeling rolled in Karl’s stomach. Virgil had sent him the late night text about Dr. Reynolds dating again, giving him the idea to use Dawn as bait. Jesus, had Leach been manipulating them the entire time? Pulling strings behind the scenes, luring them into a deadly game of cat-and-mouse?

Karl had to admit, it was possible. But he wasn’t going to discard all their hard work on a possibility. Besides, it was too late to change course. They had to see the plan through to the end.

“I hear what you’re saying,” he said, squinting into the thickening murk. “And I think you’re right, we have to be cautious.”

“You have to be more than cautious, Karl. You need to pull over and turn the fuck around. These people will kill you.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll talk it over with Dawn.”

“You tell her what I said, okay? Don’t sugarcoat the fact your private eye’s been murdered. Actually, put Dawn on the line – let
me
talk to her.”

Karl was only half listening. Was the mist getting worse or had the Jaguar accelerated? Either way, he’d lost sight of the red taillights. There was only the dark road ahead, bending into the trees. “My battery’s running out,” he said, stepping on the gas. “I’ll call you in a bit.”

“Just promise me….”

Karl hung up, flipping on his high beams.

Where the hell had they gone?

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