Unhinged (16 page)

He was panting heavily. “You know I did this all for you. To be closer to you.” He brought his hands down and rubbed his stomach. His eyebrows cast a shadow over his eyes, making him appear devilish. Was he fantasizing about me now?

I heard the back door open and thought help had finally arrived, but the subsequent action wasn't what I had hoped for.

Dorrick yelled, “Freeze. Drop your weapon, or I'll fire.”

I thought he was yelling at Spider, but how could Dorrick see him? I was the only one visible from the back of Eleanor's house. Spider was inside the shed, two footsteps away from escape.

I heard a shot and nearly peed myself, but there was no burning sensation in my back. Dorrick had fired a warning shot.

Dorrick yelled again, “Drop it.”

“It's Dupree,” I shouted. “I got Spider. He's here in the shed. Somebody go around back.”

“Dupree?” Dorrick shouted as he trotted closer to me. “Where's Lotz? In there?”

I had turned my head for only a second, but when I refocused, Spider had vanished, and all that was left was the sound of a rattling fence. “He's gone.” I sprinted through the shed to the back entrance and almost ran into the chain-link fence. Spider was nowhere to be seen. I was about to hop the fence and randomly pick a direction to run in.

But Dorrick grabbed my shoulder. “What were you thinking? Your backup was just feet away and you go in alone?”

“There was no time. I had him.” I looked at Dorrick, not wanting to blame the deputy director of the FBI, but my eye contact told him everything.

“It seems to me you lost him. We'll deal with it later. Right now you have to call this in and get every available cop out here on the streets looking for him. Go. Now.”

I ran around the shed, pulling my phone from my pocket.

Ron was at the steps waving me down. “I already called. Help is on the way. There're four cars in the area. They've been told to start searching the neighborhood, then fan out.”

Dorrick power walked over to Agent Wayne, who had been inside when Lotz's escape went down and had just caught on. He came out the back door and stood on the steps.

“C'mon, Wayne,” Dorrick commanded. They bolted for their car.

Ron and I were right behind them, everyone racing for their cars as if pole position were at stake. Spider was on the loose, and I had a gut feeling my side of the story wasn't going to sound as good as Dorrick's.

We started the search by circling the block, then broke off in different directions, occasionally passing a squad car.

“Ron,” I said as I turned my car around, “let's go check on Sarah Simpson. She lives right down the street, and if Spider knows, he might have gone there.”

“You're right.”

I had a breath of hope.

We pulled into Sarah's driveway two minutes later. Everything appeared normal as Ron ran to the rear of the house and I shot up the stairs to the front door. I knocked loudly, shouting her name.

Sarah answered wearing a full set of clothes this time, although it was a tank top and jogging shorts.

“Can you step outside with me a moment?” I backed away.

Sarah followed me, sticking close to my side. “Is something going on? Do you think Gene's here?” There was obvious panic in her voice.

“It's true we're searching for him, and we want to rule out your residence as a place he might hide since you have a history with him. But he hasn't come here, right?”

“No.” The light violet on her lips glistened in the sun.

The sound of sirens echoed in the background, which didn't help matters, letting Spider know where they were coming from.

“Gene probably doesn't know where you live.”

Ron approached. He saw me shake my head and waved to both of us as he got into the car to make a call.

“What should I do?” Sarah had my full attention again.

“If you want to stay here, lock all the doors and windows. You know my number, and if you can't get a hold of me, call 911. If you'd feel better going to someone else's house, I'd certainly understand that, too. Right now I gotta go.”

As I ran down the steps, I heard her call out, “Detective Dupree, will you please check on me later? It would make me feel better.”

I nodded and left.

“Y
ou know Greenwood's going to believe the Feds on this one,” I droned as Ron and I returned to Eleanor's house. We had searched the whole neighborhood for two hours. There were five or more squad cars circling, including Dorrick and Wayne, who even authorized a helicopter to fly over the Gentilly area. Spider had eluded us. Nevertheless, we were going to keep two squad cars patrolling the area into the evening hours.

“Don't worry about Greenwood,” Ron said as we attempted to pull into Eleanor's driveway. Three news vans had parked outside, each one set up and reporting live. “Dorrick distracted you. It's all his fault. I'll back you up on that.”

Ron's commitment didn't mean much to me at this point. We finally parked, blocking the driveway, and pushed past several reporters spouting questions on our way to the front door.

“Dorrick and Wayne are here already.” I nodded at their car parked up the street.

Ron's face started to turn red. He headed up the steps and entered the living room, and I followed. I began to doubt if either one of us was going to have a job at the end of the day.

“Be calm,” I cautioned, but I don't think he heard me.

“What do you think you're doing?” Ron yelled when he spotted Dorrick rummaging through the house.

I spied Wayne talking to Eleanor in the kitchen. She was visibly upset.

Dorrick shut a dresser drawer. “I'm looking for something that may lead us to Gene Lotz, the killer your partner let escape.”

“You messed that one up, Mr. Director. We're the detectives on this case, and you're going to listen to us. You're supposed to help us, not hinder us. I know you're not used to taking a backseat, but this time you're dealing with someone who has a spine. I don't care who you know.”

Dorrick ground his teeth. I thought the big, bad agent would have tried to hit Ron if there weren't witnesses.

Wayne stood in the background awaiting an outcome. If the situation escalated, would Wayne go for his gun? It was like a showdown of two powerhouses, each too proud to back down. It was Dorrick, the immovable object, against Lacey, the irresistible force.

Dorrick got within an inch of Ron's face and lowered his voice to a near whisper. “If you had handled this case like a professional, I wouldn't have to be searching this house, doing your job for you. I'm in charge now. I have the authority, written or not.”

Ron didn't waver. “You smug bastard. Instead of meeting us at the station, you broke your word and came here without us. Is that how the FBI gains the trust of local law enforcement agencies? I should break my foot off in your ass.”

Dorrick backed off; then his expression lightened. “And there goes your career. Expect this to be your last day on the job, Detective.” He walked out, waving for Wayne to follow him.

“Fuck that guy. Sorry, Wayne, but your boss is a jag.”

Dorrick and Wayne walked out the front door with newspapers covering their faces. Reporters instantly began to scurry.

I saw a look of resignation on Ron's face. He closed his eyes as if agreeing with what I was thinking.

I knew Ron had a chip on his shoulder from years of taking orders from men and women he should have been in command of. But because he did the right thing, he never rose through the ranks of the NOPD. Still, I found more comfort in having him doing what he did best instead of being behind a desk.

“I'll bet my onions they found something that might lead them to Lotz. Why else would he have left instead of throwing us out?” Ron's voice had lost all conviction.

“Maybe because he doesn't have the authority,” I said.

“Not yet, but he will.”

“Let's take a look around before John gets here to bag the collectibles,” I said, then yelled down the hall to the policeman who was with Grandma Lotz. “Tell her we'll be with her in a minute.”

The cop nodded.

The house had five rooms total: a foyer, bedroom, bathroom, living room, and kitchen. It was small and didn't take long to search. We didn't find anything and came to the conclusion that the shed was Spider's sole residence. I imagined the same spot where he slept was exactly where Eleanor Lotz used to punish her son, Spider's father, but I don't know why the thought occurred to me. As endearing as the wrinkled old lady appeared, she had to have had some part in making Spider's father the way he was.

Ron and I ended up in the kitchen, which was the last room before exiting the back door. Eleanor Lotz sat in one of her chairs, looking around nervously. She had already drunk half a pot of decaf.

“Mrs. Lotz?” I walked to her side. “Detective Lacey and I are going out to the shed for a moment. When we come back, we're going to ask you some questions. Then we'll be all done, okay?”

She twitched her hand towards the door as if dismissing us. The phone rang at that moment, and Eleanor looked at us for permission to get it. Ron nodded.

She got up to answer it. “Hello? . . . Who? FOX News? . . . What about Gene?”

I walked up to her and took the phone, hanging it up with a bang. She appeared frightened; then I steadied her with a soft voice. “You're probably going to be hearing from a lot of reporters. There's quite a few on your lawn right now. It's best if you don't talk to them. Let your answering machine pick up, and only call back the people you know, all right?”

She agreed and returned to her seat at the kitchen table.

Ron and I stepped outside into the heat and peeked around the house to see three television cameras swing in our direction. We hid our faces and entered the shed.

“We got to be careful with this investigation from here on out,” Ron said as we entered the rusting heap of tin. It didn't seem to have dawned on him yet that he was probably going to lose his job or at least be reassigned.

He flicked on the light when we entered, and I headed straight for the curtain partitioning Spider's little area. When I pulled the sheet off the rope, I saw a stained mattress with a red blanket balled up on it. There were a bag of potato chips, a shirt, and a little radio lying facedown. Against the wall was a huge, battered traveling chest, the kind you might take on safari.

Wearing latex gloves, we opened it up, finding several sets of clothes, two Polaroids of Spider and me taken at the Dixie-Mart, and snapshots of some construction workers hanging new siding on the neighbor's house. Two big plastic bags held what appeared to be wigs, but I knew it was hair I once ran my fingers through.

In a small drawerlike compartment was a nice Fossil watch, a diamond ring in a gold setting, and a pair of black dress shoes. I glanced to the side of the trunk and saw three bottles of Absinthe Original. “Hmmm, a few nice things. Just like Wayne said. Damn it. We had him.”

“What's in the little fridge?” Ron asked, spotting it in a corner.

I carefully opened it, letting a burst of cold air escape into my face. It felt good as I waited for the tiny box to clear itself of fog. Then I spotted two objects wrapped in aluminum foil and a can of Barq's on the bottom shelf. I reached for one of the silver, medallion-shaped disks and inspected it.

“I'll bet those're the nipples,” Ron said.

“I'll bet you're right.” I put the aluminum-wrapped package back where I found it, so John could collect it properly. “But shouldn't there be two sets of nipples if he's keeping them?”

“Maybe he's got the second set with him or somewhere else. Maybe he thought ahead and already has another hiding place. That's why we can't find him.”

“Ron?” someone called.

“In here,” Ron yelled.

Dr. John walked in with the bad-smell face, prepared to begin his job. “Heard you almost had him.”

“Yeah, Decland had him, but the Feds fucked it up. Don't believe anything they say. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Anything I should know about?”

“No,” Ron said as we walked to the door to leave Dr. John to his business. “I just don't know if I'd send anything to the FBI you don't have to. I have a feeling we'll never see it again.”

“Why's that?” John stood upright. He was all for loyalty, but he played by the rules.

“I had it out with the deputy director. I don't think they're going to be playing nice anymore.” He paused. “Come and get us if you find anything.”

He nodded and looked at his kit.