A Killing Rain (11 page)

It had stopped raining and was almost dark by the time Louis swung the Mustang into the park entrance. Two squad cars were at the gate, their bubble lights splattering red and blue on the wall of trees. Louis rolled down his window but the deputy standing in the road recognized him and waved him through.

He fought the impulse to barrel in, easing off the gas as he entered the park. In the distance, between the thick trunks of
the oaks, he could see more blue strobes.

He jerked the car to a stop and got out, his eyes scanning the clearing.

There were picnic tables and benches to his right, backdropped by trees and brush. The silhouette of a playground and a children’s train loomed against the darkening sky. To his left was the lake, shimmering black under the glow of the portable lights on the shore.

Sitting on the edge of the water was a wrecker, its gears grinding as the tow chain wound slowly against the metal pulley. The trunk of the black BMW broke the surface of the water first
. The sound of rushing water filled the cold air.

Louis hurried toward the
lake, paused only a second at the edge, then stepped into the water.

“Kincaid!”

He didn’t stop, trudging through the knee-deep water toward the car. A deputy rushed to stop him and Louis pushed him aside, but someone else caught his arms.

“Kincaid. Stop.”

It was Dan Wainwright.

Louis pulled his arm away and continued toward the car. By the time he reached it, it was fully exposed, the black finish streaked with muddy water, the windows too deeply tinted for Louis to see inside. He reached for the door, but Wainwright grabbed his arm, this time holding tight.

“Wait till it’s on ground, for God’s sake, Louis.”

Louis stopped, drawing back. Wainwright let go of him, and the two of them followed the car to the grass. The wrecker began to lower the BMW to the ground.

Across the roof of the car, Louis could see the tight faces of a half-dozen cops. Most were Fort Myers officers in navy blue uniforms and heavy dark jackets. Behind them were three Lee County sheriff’s deputies, wrapped in fur-collared green jackets. Louis’s eyes settled on the Fort Myers’s chief of police, Al Horton. Horton’s face was stiff and red, his eyes teary from the wind.

When the pulley stopped grinding, Horton stepped for
ward and looked up, meeting Louis’s eyes. He gave Louis a subtle shake of his head, a warning to stay back, stay calm.

W
ith gloved hands, Horton opened the driver’s side door. Water rushed out, and to Louis’s shock, the dome light came on.

Louis edged closer. The leather seats were puddled and muddy. And they were empty.

“Al,” Louis said. “The trunk.”

Horton
reached inside for the trunk switch, and a half-second later, Louis heard the trunk pop open. He stepped between the rear bumper and the wrecker, meeting Horton at the rear of the car. Horton looked at him again, then lifted the trunk with the tip of his finger.

Shapes. Big dark shapes.

A flashlight clicked on behind them.

It was luggage. Just suitcases sitting in a pool of water. Nothing else.

Louis turned away, walking up the grassy slope. He realized he hadn’t been breathing and he drew in a cold breath and ran a hand over his face. His nose was cold, and his feet were beginning to freeze, too. He shouldn’t have gone in the water. He shouldn’t have gotten wet. He shouldn’t have even left Fort Myers.

He looked to his
right, down the narrow jogging path that stretched into the tunnel of trees.

“Don’t even think
about it,” Wainwright said from behind him.

Louis
turned back at Wainwright. He was scraping the mud off the soles of his shoes.

“He still might be alive out here somewhere.”

Wainwright stopped scuffing and looked up at Louis. “I don’t think he is,” he said. “But we’ll search again in the morning.”

“But he might
be laying somewhere back there. He might —-”

“Listen to me,” Wainwright said. “We walked the whole park this afternoon. Me, Horton, and a dozen other cops. If Benjamin had been here, we would’ve found him then. Or he would’ve found us.”

Louis crossed his arms, burying his frozen hands under his armpits.

“Louis, they’re not here.”

“Then where the hell are they?”

Wainwright glanced back at
the car, then to the ground. “I think they’re dead.”

Louis swung his hand toward the car. “If they wanted him dead, they would’ve left him in the car,” Louis said. “They’ve taken him. I know it.”

“For what? They didn’t want the boy, they wanted the ex-husband.”

Louis shook his head
. “Maybe they needed something from Austin, information of some kind. Maybe they had to take him somewhere to get it. And maybe Benjamin is leverage. What better way to get someone to cooperate than to threaten his
kid in front of him?”

Wainwright nodded sl
owly. “Okay. Maybe. So what happens after he tells them what they want to know?”

Louis was silent, his eyes focused on
the trees over Wainwright’s shoulder.

“Then what happens, Louis?”

They both die.

Louis felt Wainwright’s hand on his back and he stepped away from it
.

“
This is probably a drug double cross of some kind and these guys are most likely back in Miami or even South America by now,” Wainwright said. “They’re hired guns, Louis. Outlaw got himself in some shit and the boy is collateral damage.”

Louis faced Wainwright. “How
the hell do you expect me to tell Susan her son is collateral damage?”

Wainwright met his eyes. “As easy as you can.”

Louis looked at the ground. The bloodied images of yesterday came surging back, but now his imagination was forming pictures of Benjamin’s small body, broken and dumped somewhere, his cries unheard.

Adults knew. They knew that bad people did bad things. They knew what killing and torture and death
were, and if they were abducted they knew there was probably no way out unless they could save themselves. Because they understood that cops were just human and that there were no superheroes.

But kids.

How long did it take before they realized no one was coming for them?

Louis felt Wainwright’s hand on his back and he stepped away from it. He looked down the jogging path. “I think I’ll walk the lake once. I won’t step off the path.”

“Louis, there are over thirty cops here. Half of them on their own time. If there’s anything to find, they’ll find it”

“Damn it
, I have to do something.’’

Wainwright put a firm hand on the back of Louis’s neck. “You need to be with Susan. Now get the hell out of here.”

Louis eased the car to a stop in the sandy driveway of his cottage and turned off the engine. It was dark, except for a soft yellow glow coming from a nearby cabin. The rustle of the rain-driven wind in the palms drowned out the usual rhythmic rush of waves from the gulf.

He had decided to come home first before going to Susan’s. The first reason was to get his gun. He had left yesterday expecting to be gone only an hour or so, and had left the
Glock at home.

But the second reason he had gone out of his way to come home was pathetic. He wanted to postpone —- if even for an hour -— telling Susan that her son was still missing, probably dead.

The cold had saturated his body, numbing his feet and toes, and he was still wearing the same clothes he had left home in a day before, except for the sweatshirt Joe had given him. He sat for just a moment longer, then pushed open the car door and walked slowly to his cottage.

Flipping open the screen door, he reached for the knob on the inner door. It was locked and as he dug for his keys, he paused. He usually left the door unlocked.

Louis turned and peered into the deep shadows of the yard. Then he stepped to the window and looked inside. It was too dark to see anything. But he was so
tired, he might be wrong about locked up.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside, turning on the living room light. It was just as messy as he had left it
—- the newspaper scattered on the sofa, an empty Heineken bottle and a plate with bread crumbs on the counter.

Stripping off the Cleveland Browns sweatshirt, he sat down in the nearest chair. He pulled off his wet sneakers and socks, tossing them aside. His toes were red and tingling.

He rose and went to the refrigerator for a beer. Taking long pulls from the bottle, he moved into the bedroom. As he hit the bathroom switch, he paused again in the doorway.

Where was
Issy? She hadn’t eaten. She should have been at his feet the moment she heard the door.

He heard a bump and spun around, his hand automatically going for the
Glock on his belt until he realized it was in his nightstand drawer. The bedroom was dark, full of shadows cast by the weak bathroom light. His eyes moved slowly around the room.

“Who’s there?” he called.

A soft scraping, like a body sliding against a wall. Louis set down the beer and moved slowly toward the nightstand. He pulled open the drawer, groping for the gun. It wasn’t there.

Shit.

His eyes strained into the dark near the dresser. A figure was huddled there in the corner.

“Kincaid?”

He knew that voice.

A man moved slowly from the shadows. Louis froze when he saw his
Glock in the man’s trembling hands.

“Outlaw?” Louis asked. “Austin Outlaw?”

The man came into the thin light from the bathroom, the gun aimed at Louis. “Yeah, yeah, it’s me.”

For a second, Louis could only stare at him in shock. Then the question flashed in his head. “Where’s Benjamin?”

Austin blinked. “Ben?”

“Where the hell is Benjamin?” Louis asked again.

“He’s not with Susan?” Austin asked.

“What? Fuck no, he’s not with Susan,” Louis said. “Where the hell is he?”

Austin didn’t answer, running a hand over his face. Louis stepped forward and jerked the gun from Austin’s hand. “Where’s Ben?”

“I don’t...I don’t know.”

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t know?”

Louis clicked on the lamp near the bed
room door. The light was bright and Austin brought up a hand to shield his eyes.

“Ben is missing,” Louis said. “He’s been missing for twenty-four hours. We figured you two were together.”

Austin’s eyes widened, then his shoulders slumped and he covered his face with his hands.

“I lost him,” he whispered.

Louis stuffed the gun in his jeans and went to Austin, jerking him out of the corner. Austin’s yellow polo shirt was streaked with dirt and he had bits of dried leaves and twigs in his hair. Austin gave out a sharp cry of pain, grabbing at a towel he was holding against his thigh.

“What the hell happened?” Louis asked. “How did you lose him?”

“We were at the park, getting ready to leave. I got out of the car to throw away the ice cream cups,” Austin said. “That’s when I heard the shot zing by my ear. When I turned around, that’s when I got hit with the second shot.” Austin motioned toward his leg, wrapped with a bloody towel.

“Where was Ben?” Louis demanded.

“In the car. It was a good thirty feet away.”

“What did you do?”

“I jumped in the bushes.”

Louis could only stare at him.

“I heard this guy coming after me,” Austin went on. “So I crawled deeper into the trees. And then I ran.”

“You ran? You ran and left Ben there? How could you just leave him there?”

“I thought I saw him get out of the car and run away. What was I supposed to do?” Austin snapped “I didn’t have a gun. I didn’t even know who was shooting at me. I figured whoever it was, they were after me. I didn’t think they’d even bother with Ben. He’s just a kid.”

“What the hell did you think happened to him?”

“I figured he made it home. He’s a smart kid,” Austin said.

“But you didn’t even call to make sure!”

“I did call!” Austin shouted. “I swear I called twice and a man answered. He wouldn’t let me talk to her. So I just hung up.”

“
That was a cop. Why didn’t you tell him who you were?”

“How the hell did I know who
he was? I thought it might be the guy who shot at me!”

“Are you crazy? How could you just assume that?”

“I figured if Ben hadn’t made it home, I would’ve heard something. When I got here, I watched the TV...”

“Watched TV?”

“Calm down, man,” Austin said, his eyes going to the Glock. Austin wiped a trembling hand over his sweaty face and his eyes slid back to Louis. “I thought Ben would be okay.”

Louis stared at him hard “You should’ve gone back.”

“I did go back,” Austin said. “I waited. When it was dark I went back. When I saw that my car was empty, that’s when I figured Ben got away, found a phone and called home. That’s what Susan always told him to do.”

“Why the hell didn’t you call the cops?”

Austin hesitated then took another step away from Louis. Louis grabbed his arm, pulling him back. Austin yanked away, squaring his feet.

“Stop jerking on me. I’m wounded!”

“You sonofabitch,” Louis hissed, stabbing at Austin’s chest. “You’re wanted for something, aren’t you? You were protecting your own ass. Who wants you dead?”

“I don’t know.”

Louis started to raise his hand and Austin stepped back. “I don’t know, goddamn it! I swear I don’t know!”

Louis turned away from him. He didn’t understand any of this. He didn’t understand what Austin was doing here, who he was running from, or how he could have left Ben. Nothing was making sense.

He drew a breath and looked back at Austin. “Have you been here this whole time?”

Austin nodded, the muscles in his jaw twitching.

“Why did you come here?”

Austin hesitated
, looking up at him. His dark eyes looked like pools of oil. “I didn’t know who they were or what the hell they wanted. I didn’t want to lead them back to Susan’s.” Austin shook his head. “I had about forty bucks on me, so I spent it on a cab to come over here. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“But why here?” Louis pressed.

“Shit, man,” Austin said. “All Benjamin could talk about was you. How you lived on Captiva at some place called Branson’s on the Beach, how you were such a big shot private eye who could catch anybody.” Austin’s eyes bore into Louis. “I figured maybe you could help me.”

Louis turned and walked back to the living room. He ran an arm across his brow then looked down at the phone.

Call Susan? No. Wainwright.

He dialed Wainwright’s number and waited until they got him patched through. Louis could hear the rain and the wind and knew Wainwright was still at the park.

“Chief, I need you to meet me back at Susan’s.”

“Can’t. Not for a while. We’re just wrapping this up and just got a call on a missing delivery guy. What
’s up?”

“Austin Outlaw is at my place. He’s been hiding out.”

“Holy shit.”

“Someone took a
few shots at him,” Louis said.

“And the kid?”

“Still missing.”

Silence.

“What should I do with him?” Louis asked. “You want him at the station?”

“No...
no. Taking him anywhere exposes him. Let me think. Can we keep him there for a few hours?”

Louis glanced back at Austin. He was sitting on the bed and had taken off the towel to examine his wound.

“I need to get back to Susan’s,” Louis said. “I haven’t even told her about the car yet. Can you send someone to watch him?”

“In a couple of hours I can.”

“Good.” Louis hung up and walked back to the bedroom, stopping in front of Austin.

“Your partner
Sorrell. He’s dead. And so is your secretary. They were killed yesterday.”

Austin didn’t look up. “I know. I saw it on the news.”

“Jesus Christ, it didn’t occur to you then that we were looking for you?”

“All it gave was the place and the names. They didn’t say anything about me. Or Ben being missing.”

Louis wanted to belt him. “I don’t believe you don’t know what this is about,” he said.

Austin shook his head, quiet
.

“Talk to me!” Louis shouted.

“I don’t know anything!”

“Fuck you.” Louis walked to the bathroom and set his gun on the sink. He pulled off his T-shirt and unsnapped his jeans. When he looked back into the bedroom, Austin had stood up and was looking around.

“Don’t leave,” Louis said.

“Where the fuck you think I’m going to go?”

Louis watched Austin for a moment. Then he went to the nightstand and jerked open the drawer. He grabbed a pair of handcuffs and snapped one on Austin’s wrist. Austin tried to pull away, but Louis jerked him back and had the other cuff around the wood slat in the bed’s footboard before Austin could react.

Louis headed back to the bathroom.

“I need something for my leg!” Austin called after him.

Louis jerked open the medicine cabinet and pulled out some gauze and tape. Grabbing a
clean towel, he went back to the door and tossed them on the bed. Without looking at Austin, he went back and got into the shower.

The hot water burned and he leaned into it, his head down, his eyes closed. He wanted to lose himself in the heat and steam, to stop the aching coldness for just a few minutes.

His head shot up.

Sonofabitch
.

He pushed back the curtain and grabbed a towel. Wrapping it around his waist, he went quickly back to the bedroom.

Austin looked up from bandaging his leg.

“You lying fucking coward,” Louis said.

“What?”

“You never went back to your car,” Louis said. “It was gone.
They shoved in the lake.”

Austin stood up, the chain between the cuffs tight. “Christ, Kincaid, if they took him it was already too late,” he said. “Don’t you get it? I couldn’t have saved him.”

“You didn’t even try.”

Austin just s
at there. Louis turned in disgust and went back to the bathroom. He stood in front of the fogged mirror, staring at his own blurred reflection. But he was seeing Benjamin’s face, seeing it and wondering what he was thinking as he watched his father run. And wondering what he was thinking when his father didn’t come back.