Believing Again (14 page)

No one would hazard a guess as to why Jake’s patients were being targeted. He was well liked and everyone admired his dedication to the clinic. It made no sense to anyone.

The two detectives had worked through the list of former staff and volunteers, talking to them all with the exception of two who had left the state. Every single avenue led to a dead end.

For Danny, the most troubling loose end was Kaylea’s continued absence. She and Sam had looked for her. They tried tracking the cell phone Danny and Jake had given her. It had apparently been destroyed or damaged in some way because there was no trace of it. Jake had searched every place he knew where the homeless vets gathered, slept, or ate. There was no sign of her or of Bob Aronson, her protector from the Forest Park camp.

Then a few weeks after she disappeared, Danny got a phone call, which came, according to caller ID, from Kaylea’s phone.

“Kaylea? Where are you? We’ve been looking for you,” Danny said as soon as she saw the number appear on her phone.

There was no response.

“Are you there?”

Nothing.

“Kaylea, do you need help?”

Suddenly there was an odd, rustling noise. Danny thought it might be the sound of the phone being put under something like a blanket or stuffed into a pocket. Without saying anything more, she ended the call.

“Sam, let’s try tracking Kaylea’s phone again. I think it’s been turned back on for us.”

Less than twenty minutes later they had the location. She — or at least the phone she’d had — was back in Forest Park.

Sam insisted that if they were headed to that camp they would wear vests and take their Glocks. Although Danny didn’t want to appear threatening to Kaylea, she knew he was right — if it was Kaylea who’d called and she was too scared to talk on the phone, something was wrong. And walking into that place when something wasn’t right without protection and a weapon was plain reckless.

When they arrived at the trailhead parking lot, Jake Abrams was getting out of his vehicle. Surprised, Danny walked over to him. “What’re you doing here?”

He bent down and kissed her cheek. “I’m making rounds. What’re you doing?”

Sam joined them. “We got a call from that phone Kaylea Garwood had and it was traced here. We’re going to go look for her. How about you join us in the hunt?”

Danny gave her partner a quizzical look, not sure having Jake along was the best idea. But she didn’t voice her doubts. At least Jake could save them some time by taking them directly to the camp instead of having her lead Sam in what would probably be a more meandering path there.

Jake took the lead in the hike toward the camp. But as soon as they heard voices that indicated they were close to their destination, Danny went in front of him, with Sam bringing up the rear, both detectives with weapons drawn. Danny could hear a variety of male voices, some of them quite loud, in what sounded like an argument. She couldn’t tell what they were arguing about but it was heated and escalating.

They reached the edge of the camp and saw what was, presumably, the source of the disagreement — in the middle of the camp were two men on the ground, piled on top of each other. There was blood on the head and shoulders of the one on top, the one who was not moving. The other man underneath, groaned, as if in pain, and moved fitfully. Around the two downed men was a collection of about ten others, arguing. Kaylea was nowhere in sight.

As soon as Danny was spotted, one of the campers said in a loud voice, “Shit. Who called the cops? I thought we didn’t want them here.” The shouter glared at the others around him but no one answered. They seemed more interested in moving quickly to the edges of the camp, away from the approaching police.

Before Danny could move to stop them, or ask them what was going on, she saw, on the far side of the camp, a wiry figure dressed head to toe in black, from running shoes to Balaclava face mask, pop out of what Danny recognized as Kaylea’s shelter, dragging Kaylea by the feet. The men around the fire pit seemed as startled as Danny was. It was hard to tell much about who the person in black was but it wasn’t hard to see that the person was armed — a large, wicked looking, semi-automatic handgun was pointed at Kaylea.

Danny yelled, “Police. Drop the gun and let go of the woman.” As soon as she spoke, the group in the center of the camp disappeared into the surrounding trees, leaving a clear path between Danny and the two people across the camp from her.

With the attention of the man in black diverted by the oncoming trio, Kaylea was able to kick her way free. “I’m okay, Danny,” she called. “I’m free.”

“Now the gun,” Danny yelled. “Drop it.”

Instead, the shooter raised the pistol. Calling to Sam, “I’ve got the shot,” Danny took a stance to fire but before she could squeeze the trigger, found herself face down in the dirt with a heavy weight crushing her from the back.

She heard the sound of a gunshot from behind her as she tried to get out from under whatever — whoever — was on top of her. She finally wriggled out, sat up, and looked around for her target. He was sprinting into the nearby woods, out of range of her weapon, with Sam in pursuit. Prepared to give one of the transients hell for what they’d done, she turned to see who’d tackled her.

It wasn’t one of the campers. It was Jake.

“What the fuck? Why did you do that? I had the shot.” She was furious and made no attempt to hide it.

“He was going to shoot you. I had to do something to protect you.”

“Protect me? I was doing my job and you interfered.” After she wiped the wet dirt off her pants and the sleeves of her shirt, she picked up her weapon. “Goddammit, Jake. Because of you we probably lost him.”

Sam returned, winded and even more pissed than Danny was. “Christ, Doc. You really fucked this up. You know we could arrest you for interfering with a police officer doing her duty, don’t you? What the hell were you thinking?”

“He was going to shoot Danny,” Jake repeated. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

“First, she had a clean shot at the guy. Second, she’s wearing a vest and is a helluva shot. Third, you had no business interfering. Fourth, that guy’s gonna keep shooting your patients until we catch him and you just fucked up the best chance we’ve had to do that.” He wiped his hand over his face in frustration. “You happy about that?”

Jake didn’t back down. “I wasn’t going to stand by and let him shoot Danny when I could prevent it. So I did what had to be done.”

“No,” Danny said. “You did what you had no business doing.” She put her weapon back in her shoulder holster. “Go take a look at those two guys on the ground. One looks like he might be dead, but the other’s alive. You take care of your business and let us take care of ours.” She knew she sounded cold but it was the only way she could control the hotter-than-hell fury she was feeling.

Before he could respond, she walked through the camp to see how Kaylea was. Danny found her in her shelter where she’d gone after she’d escaped from the man in black.

After she determined Kaylea was all right, Danny asked her what happened. The story Kaylea told confirmed what Danny had suspected — the woman had been scared into silence. She wasn’t positive who the killer was, as Danny had thought, but after the last time she’d seen him, she realized there was something about the eyes — the perp’s only visible feature — that Kaylea knew was familiar. It was only an impression. She couldn’t remember exactly what it was but there was something playing at the edges of her mind that said she’d recognize the killer if she saw him without the Balaclava on.

She’d told Bob Aronson she wanted to disappear and asked for his assistance. He’d made her take the battery out of the phone so they couldn’t trace her and he helped her move. In fact, they’d moved three times in the past ten days, trying to keep out of the way of the killer, the police, and Jake Abrams.

Coming back to Forest Park had been his idea, not hers. She was nervous about being there. But things had seemed okay. Until that morning when Kaylea had seen someone dressed all in black hanging around the forest on the outskirts of the camp.

He seemed to be waiting. She didn’t have to wonder what it meant. Someone was about to get shot and Kaylea was afraid it was her. But she figured he was biding his time until it got dark before he made his move.

So she dug out the battery, put it back in the phone, and made the call to Danny. But when the detective answered, Kaylea heard someone outside her shelter. She didn’t think it was the guy in black but she didn’t feel safe talking so she hid the phone in her pocket, keeping it on in hopes that Danny would trace it and get to the camp before the battery power was gone or anyone else got hurt.

But the guy didn’t wait. Not too long after she made the call, once again Kaylea heard a rustling noise outside her shelter, this time closer. She pulled out her broken bottle and waited, wondering where her friend Bob was, wondering if she was going to be the next victim, like the message on her shelter had said.

Nothing happened.

Thinking maybe she’d been too anxious, she peeked out of her shelter, wondering if the noise had been made by some animal.

It was some animal — a human one. The guy dressed in black stood in the middle of the camp. He wasn’t very tall, shorter than Danny, and skinny but he moved like an athlete. As Kaylea watched he began to turn in a circle and fire indiscriminately in the air. After the first volley of shots there was chaos, of course. But it accomplished what the shooter wanted — as everyone ran to get out of the line of fire, he took aim at one specific person and fired. Apparently, someone got in the way because there was another round of gunshots and then two men down in the center of the encampment, one of them slumped over the other by the fire pit.

After the second man was shot, the shooter ran to Kaylea’s shelter. He never spoke to her, only threatened her by waving the gun. When she resisted following him outside, he hit her with the gun, knocked her down, and dragged her out by the feet.

The rest Danny knew.

When Kaylea finished her story, Danny said, “Kaylea, now will you come in with us and let us find you a safe place to stay? Please?”

Tears welled up in the other woman’s eyes. “I can’t live inside a little room. I can’t. Besides, if I go someplace where he knows the social service puts people like me, he’ll track me there. Please, Danny. Let Bob take care of me. We’ll disappear again. But this time I’ll keep in touch with you. I promise.”

Danny scraped her hands over her face in a gesture she realized was exactly like the one her partner used when he was frustrated. “I can’t force you to come in, although I have a good mind to put you in protective custody.”

Kaylea shuddered. “Jail? Please, no. I’d go crazy.”

Danny stared at the terrified woman for a long moment, a solution to the problem beginning to occur to her. “I have an idea. If you won’t let me find you a bed in an SRO, would you come home with me?”

“You mean to your house?”

“Yeah. I have a guest room. You’d have to share a bathroom with me but you’d have your own room and a place to, I don’t know, watch TV or read or something, where you’d be safe. You could stay there until we find a place for you. An apartment, maybe. Not just a bed or a small room.”

“Why would you do something like that?”

“Because you’re in danger and I need you safe until this is over. And I very much doubt this guy will track you to my house.”

Kaylea stared at her, chewing her lip for a long time before saying softly, “Let me talk to Bob.”

“Okay. While you do that, I’ll go take care of some personal business of my own.”

Danny ducked out of the shelter and scanned the camp. Sam was talking to a couple of the campers. Two uniformed officers and a couple EMTs were working the scene, too, in response, she assumed, to a call from her partner. It was apparent from the reduced number of men standing around the shelters and tents that some of their witnesses had disappeared into the woods before anyone had a chance to stop them. And she was certain they wouldn’t willingly reappear to talk to a bunch of cops. She wasn’t sure she could blame them. Talking to the cops hadn’t helped get this guy shut down. They must’ve felt they were better off disappearing into the wilderness park.

The person she was looking for wasn’t immediately apparent either. Then, from behind her, she heard his familiar voice.

“Am I forgiven?” For the first time since she’d met him, Jake sounded unsure of himself.

She faced him. “Forgiven? For what you did? Hell, no. How would you like it if I burst into your surgery and threw myself on you so you couldn’t operate because I was afraid the patient had HIV and you might catch it by operating on them?”

“That’s absurd. We do all sorts of tests and take every possible precaution against something like that happening. I’m perfectly safe.”

“Right. Like we train for potentially dangerous situations and take every possible precaution to make sure we’re safe. You had no right — you had no business — doing what you did, any more than I have the right to interfere with what you do in your job.”

He tried to put his hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off. “No, Jake, you’re not going to cuddle or kiss or caress your way out of this.” She stepped back out of his reach. “I’ve told you every way I know how that you can’t dictate to me how I do my job. But apparently I wasn’t clear enough. So let me be now: What you did today is unacceptable. I won’t tolerate it. Ever. Under any circumstances. Do you understand?”

She could see his anger building by the set of his shoulders and the thinning line of his mouth. He looked like he did the first time she’d seen him, when he was angry about the death of Jim Branson. “I don’t give a damn what you say. If I had it to do over, I would. I won’t stand by and watch the same thing happen to someone I love that happened to the guys in Iraq.”

“We’re in Portland, not in a war zone.”

“It sure as hell looks like a war zone to me. How many more dead and wounded does it take for you to qualify it as one?”

“It’s a crime scene and I’m a cop. This is what I do. And you cannot — I won’t let you — keep me from doing my work.”