The Serial Killer's Wife (30 page)

She just stared down at him.
 

“And they had one of those crane games in the lobby. Two chances to win for a buck. So we put in a buck, and do you remember what we won?”
 

“Of course,” she whispered. “A dragon.”
 

“Yes.” His mouth twitched in what may have been a smile. “We called him Denny the Dragon. We decided to keep him for when we had a child. It would be the baby’s first stuffed animal.”
 

At the door, David Bradford said, “Fuck this bullshit. Elizabeth, come on.”
 

Eddie turned his face to look up at her. In his eyes was more sadness than she ever thought she’d see in a man convicted of six murders. “Right now he’s the answer you’re looking for. He knows.”
 

“He knows what?”
 

Eddie just nodded. “He knows.”

CHAPTER 55

“W
HAT
WAS
THAT
?”
Bradford said, driving them through the prison gate. “Just what the
fuck
was that?”
 

“I don’t know,” Elizabeth said quietly. She was slumped in the passenger seat, staring out through the windshield.
 

“You don’t
know
, or you don’t want to
say
?”
 

She looked at him sharply. “Are you crazy? You actually think I’m hiding something from you?”
 

“Hmm, well let’s see. You were the one who went into hiding five years ago when your husband was arrested. Doesn’t quite make you the most reliable person in the world, does it? So come on, spill. Denny the Dragon. Just what the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
 

“I don’t know,” she repeated, though she wondered if that was true. She remembered the stuffed animal—a purple plush thing with black marble eyes and a large nose and a pair of green wings sprouting from its back—but she had trouble actually placing what may have happened to it.
 

“A sociopath,” David Bradford murmured. “Your husband is truly a grade-A sociopath.”
 

They didn’t speak the rest of the way to the strip mall. When Bradford pulled up in front of the Starbucks (he didn’t bother parking in a space), he turned in his seat to glare at her.
 

“Get the fuck in the back.”
 

Before she could move, though, the back door opened and Julia Hogan slid into the seat. “How’d it go?” she asked anxiously.
 

“Sit up front with me,” Bradford said.
 

Julia ignored him. “How did it
go
?”
 

Bradford gritted his teeth. Sensing that neither woman was going to do as he had instructed, he shoved the car in gear and got them moving forward. Without being told to Elizabeth unclipped the gun from her belt and handed it back to Julia.
 

Julia sensed the tension at once. She took the gun and sat back in her seat with a sigh. “How bad was it?”
 

“Bad enough.” Bradford glanced at Elizabeth. “Do you want to tell her or should I?”
 

Elizabeth just shook her head and stared out her window. Bradford cleared his throat and ran through the entire thing.
 

“What Denny the Dragon knows,” Julia Hogan said in a quiet, musing tone. Despite the fact her back was to the woman, Elizabeth knew Julia was speaking to her. “What do you think it means?”
 

“I don’t know.”
 

Bradford snorted. He said to the rearview mirror, “Do you believe that shit? I think she’s lying.”
 

“I am not! Why would you say that?”
 

“Oh, I don’t know. Why do geese fly south during the winter? It’s just their nature.”
 

Elizabeth looked back at Julia for support, but Julia was staring out her window. She turned to Bradford and said, as slowly and calmly as she could, “I am not lying to you.”
 

“Whatever.”
 

Bradford dug into his pocket for his cell phone and the BlackBerry. He hadn’t turned either of them on since they left the prison and had to wait about a minute for both to power up. Immediately the BlackBerry dinged, signaling there was a new message. He ignored it and, using his own cell phone, started dialing a number.
 

“What are you doing?”
 

“I’m tired of playing games. I’m doing what I should have done in the first place.”
 

“But you can’t. What about your son?”
 

He gave her a look that was all at once somber. “Most likely my son is already dead, just like yours.”
 

“You don’t know that.”
 

He nodded slowly. “I do.”
 

But before he could finish dialing, the BlackBerry rang. He set his own cell phone down, picked up the BlackBerry, frowned at the screen. Hesitantly, he answered it. Listened for a couple of seconds, then glanced at her.
 

“It’s for you.”
 

And handed her the phone.

•
   
•
   
•

“S
O
,”
THE
DARK
robotic voice said, “how was the family reunion? Was it everything you dreamed it would be?”
 

They were on the four-lane highway now, headed toward Reading. Bradford was doing easily ten miles per hour over the limit.
 

“What do you want?” She didn’t bother asking Clarence how he knew they had already visited the prison.
 

“What I want is to talk to you. I called your phone but it went straight to voicemail. What’s wrong—has the battery gone dead?”
 

She dug in her pocket, pulled out the BlackBerry, and turned it on. “There, it’s on.”
 

“That doesn’t matter now. I’m already talking to you.”
 

“What do you want?”
 

“You know exactly what I want. Now the question is, can you get it for me?”
 

She closed her eyes and was silent for a moment. In that moment the BlackBerry had powered up completely and, like with Bradford’s phone, she heard that familiar ding. She whispered, “Yes.”
 

“Good.
Very
good. When?”
 

“Soon.”
 

The dark robotic voice’s tone quickly soured. “When exactly is
soon
?”
 

Elizabeth didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure what to say. The truth was she had no idea how to get Clarence the trophies. If Eddie had tried to give her a hint—and why he just couldn’t come out with whatever it was he wanted to say, she still didn’t know—then he had failed, because yes, she remembered Denny the Dragon, but where was it now?
 

“Elizabeth?”
 

“I’m working on it.”
 

“That doesn’t answer my question.”
 

“Soon.”
 

“Again, I ask you when exactly is soon?”
 

Again, Elizabeth didn’t answer. Bullshitting a man this insane was not a good idea, and yet she was trying the best she could, and she knew she was being sloppy.
 

“Okay,” Clarence said. “Let me ask you this then instead. Has Special Agent Bradford done what was needed of him?”
 

She risked a glance at the man behind the steering wheel. He quickly glanced back at her, mouthing,
What?
 

Shaking her head at Bradford, she said into the phone, “I’m not sure what you mean.”
 

“What I mean is has Special Agent Bradford done what I instructed him to do? He got you in to see your husband, and your husband told you where you can find what I want. Correct?”
 

She was staring forward at the highway in front of her. She could feel Bradford watching her—could even sense Julia Hogan watching at her—but she forced herself to not acknowledge either of them.
 

“That’s correct.”
 

“Good. Then get rid of him.”
 

“What?”
 

“Get rid of him. Do you need me to spell it out for you?”
 

“But what about his son?” she asked, and the car swerved suddenly as David Bradford’s grip on the steering wheel twitched.
 

“His son will be fine. Believe it or not, I do consider myself a man of my word. And my word is that his son will remain safe. Of course, they won’t be reunited just yet—not until you get me those trophies—so that last part is up to you. Are we on the same page?”
 

“Yes.”
 

“Good. Now make it happen. As evidenced by the last picture that was sent to you, you have fourteen hours left or else I kill your boy.”

He clicked off.
 

Elizabeth kept the BlackBerry to her ear for several more seconds. Then she blinked, turned in her seat, and extended the phone to Bradford.
 

He snatched it at once. “What was that about?”
 

“You need to let me out.”
 

“Say that again?”
 

“Clarence says your part in this is through.”
 

“What about my son?”
 

“He said your son will be safe as long as I can still get him the trophies. But you need to let me out.”
 

Bradford’s fingers were white around the steering wheel. He glanced up at the rearview mirror to see Julia’s reaction to all of this. He seemed to think about it for another couple of seconds, and then shook his head.
 

“No.” The car’s engine gave a meaty roar as Bradford pressed his foot down on the gas. “No, that is not going to happen.”
 

“Please,” she said. “Be reasonable.”
 

“Reasonable?” He laughed. “
You
are asking
me
to be reasonable? Are you fucking insane?”
 

“David,” Julia Hogan said quietly in the back.
 

Bradford shook his head again. “No. What we’re going to do now is call the Bureau. That’s the smart thing to do. It’s the
only
thing to do.”
 

The car’s needle was up to eighty now, the car swerving from lane to lane.
 

Elizabeth leaned back in her seat. She stared out her window. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and retched.
 

Bradford said, “What is it?”
 

Her eyes still closed, she retched again, holding her stomach. “Remember ... how I felt ... before we went ... into the prison?”
 

“Yeah, so?”
 

“I think ... I’m going to ... throw up.”

CHAPTER 56

D
AVID
BRADFORD
MOVED
over into the right lane and slowed the car until they came to a stop. Elizabeth threw off her seatbelt and opened her door and nearly fell onto the ground, dry heaving, crawling away from the car up the grassy embankment.
 

This patch of highway was moderately busy, traffic streaming past in both lanes. Still she could hear Bradford’s door opening and closing (he’d left the keys in the ignition, the car
ding ding ding dinging
while the door was open), the crunch of gravel as he came around the front of the car. Bradford saying, “Elizabeth, what’s wrong?” and then saying, “If this is a ruse to keep me from calling the Bureau, you’re wasting your time.”
 

She stayed where she was on the ground, on her hands and knees, continuing to dry heave. She could hear the car’s door opening and closing again, only this time it was the back door, Julia Hogan asking, “Is she okay?”
 

“She’s fine.” Bradford directly behind her now, only a few feet away, the sun positioned just right that she could see the top of his shadow next to her. Then, talking into his phone, “Yes, this is Special Agent David Bradford. I need to speak to the Special Agent in Charge immediately.”
 

Elizabeth dry heaved again. She stared down at the grass, stared at the top of David Bradford’s shadow. Only a few feet behind her.
 

“Agent Bradford?” she said weakly.
 

The shadow grew just slightly, the man advancing a few steps. “What is it?”
 

“I’m”—another dry heave—“sorry.”
 

The shadow grew even more. “For what?”
 

Instantly she was on her feet, spinning around and driving her fist into David Bradford’s solar plexus. He let out an
oomph
and doubled over, the BlackBerry falling from his hand, and she managed to grab it with one hand before it hit the ground and turned into him, reaching for the gun holstered to his belt. She unsnapped it and pulled out the gun just as Julia Hogan shouted at her.
 

“Freeze!” Julia Hogan was slowly advancing up the embankment, her own gun aimed straight at Elizabeth’s head. “Drop the weapon!”
 

David Bradford groaned and was standing up straight when Elizabeth stepped behind him and pressed the gun into his side.
 

“I don’t want to shoot you,” she whispered into his ear.
 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he said.