Dark Eye (52 page)

I felt a sharp aching in my left wrist. God, I’d almost forgotten that was there. If only I’d done it right. I might be gone, but Rachel would be safe.

This was my fault. This was all my fault.

Next thing I remembered was Patrick sitting beside me, Darcy hovering behind him. Patrick was careful to keep his face sympathetic but calm, strong. And Darcy was expressionless. Was that because he wasn’t picking up on the nonverbal clues, didn’t comprehend my fear and sadness? No, I think he got it, perhaps more than anyone. He just didn’t know what to do about it. Who could?

“We have to ask you some more questions, Susan. Not just about what happened tonight, but about Rachel in general. Anything you can tell us about her that might be helpful.”

I felt so useless. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even raise my eyes to his.

“But I don’t know why it has to be done here,” Patrick continued. “Best if we take it back to headquarters.”

So I won’t be around if the crime techs start making discoveries? Like Rachel’s blood? Evidence of her death or torture?

“Why don’t you ride back with me? I’ll get a sergeant to bring your car-”

“No, I’ll drive,” I said, snapping out of it with a suddenness that startled both of us.

“I don’t think that’s wise.”

“I can do it. I’ll meet you back-”

He grabbed my wrist and held it tight. “We need you on this, Susan. We need you one hundred percent.”

I knew what he was saying. He knew why I wanted to drive myself. But it was all so far beyond my control.

O’Bannon crouched down beside me. “Susan, I’m sorry to have to do this to you, but you’re off the case.”

“What?”

“Your niece is a victim now. You’re too close. I could overlook your own involvement, but not hers. Effective now, your consulting contract is canceled. You can keep the desk. I’ll try to assign you something else when an appropriate case comes along. But as for now-”

That was when the phone rang, cutting him mercifully short. I don’t know what I thought I was doing. But I was sitting right next to it. So I picked it up.

No. I have to be honest. I knew who it was. And I knew it was for me.

“Yeah.”

“I have her.”

“Son of a bitch.” I clenched the receiver so tightly my fingers turned white. “Why Rachel?”

“I needed her. She’s the Vessel.”

“You said you cared about me, you bastard!” I shouted, feigning a toughness I did not feel. “If you do anything to her, anything like what you did to me-”

“Please calm yourself, dear. This is pointless.”

“I’ll make your god Poe look like an unimaginative grandma when you see what I can do. Have you hurt her?”

“Of course not.”

“What is it you want?” I cried. “What is it you want from me?”

“Now? Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Then why-”

“I just called to tell you that you needn’t worry. I have Rachel, and I will take good care of her, after my fashion. There’s no chance that you’ll catch me or recover her. So relax and enjoy what little time is left.”

My head felt thick and unresponsive. There must be something I should do, something I should say. But what was it? “What do you mean, what little time is left?”

“I’ve told you before, Susan. The end times are upon us. I have everything I need now. Everything.”

“Let me talk to her. If you really haven’t hurt her, let me talk to her.”

A long sigh. Followed by: “Five seconds.”

The phone passed. “Oh, my God, Susan, it’s him. It’s really him. I haven’t been this scared since that day when we rented a video just after my parents-”

“Time’s up.”

“Bastard!” I wailed, my voice hoarse. “You could at least let her finish the sentence.”

“I’m afraid we must go, just in case you’re tracing.”

“Can I talk to her again tomorrow?”

“I… doubt she’ll be… able to communicate clearly.” I heard him sigh. “I wanted so much to save you, Susan. But I couldn’t do it. And who else is going to try?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think you know. Good night, Susan. Try not to make a mess of it this time.”

The line disconnected.

While they were all babbling about the trace and the recording and what it meant, I stumbled to my car and drove away, fast, before Patrick got up the strength or numbers to stop me. My heart was pounding and my brain was racing. A thousand thoughts cruised through my head at once. It was like being drunk without being drunk. Was this what they called a dry drunk? I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t get a grip on myself, on anything.

Except one thing. I knew where I was going. Gordy’s. Back where this all began. It was appropriate, no? Symmetrical.

Had I ever really thought for a minute I could give up drinking? Who was delusional now? The bartender would still serve me, I thought, and if he didn’t, there was a liquor store next door. Hell, that might be quicker. What did it matter? No shortage of places to get drunk in Vegas.

Soon as I got there, I parked, popped open the car door, put one leg out-and froze.

Not voluntarily. I wanted to move. I kept telling myself to move. It was as if I’d lost all control, as if some alien being had taken over my body.

I closed my eyes and saw Darcy-Darcy, of all people-in my mind’s eye. The autistic savant, the boy who didn’t comprehend emotion, but who nonetheless had given me so much emotional support. He was just staring at me. He liked me, I’d have to be blind not to see that, but he wasn’t happy to see me. He was sad. So sad.

Rachel wasn’t sad. Worried, not sad. I saw almost everyone I knew, Lisa, Patrick, Granger, the chief, my parents, my suspects, all of them, all of them, all of them.

David.

They were so sad.

I somehow managed to get my leg back inside the car and close the door, but that was such a strain that I decided to forget about trying to move again for a while.

My wrist throbbed. Throbbed, like an aching in the hollow of my heart.

“Don’t let him win, sugar bear.”

“It’s so… hard,” I said, even though I knew I wasn’t speaking.

“Naturally,” David replied, with his understanding smile. “It’s meant to be.”

“I wish you hadn’t done it, David. I wish you hadn’t.” I folded over on the seat, hands tucked into my lap, cradling like a fetus. “I just wished you’d loved me enough to stay.”

David looked at me with heavy eyes. “I’m sorry, Susan. It’s hard to admit, but-there are times when love has nothing to do with it.”

I lay on the seat like a pathetic baby, which is exactly what I was. “I don’t forgive you, David. Not now, not ever. I will not forgive you.”

His eyes only deepened. “This is my last visit, Susan.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you need to get on with it. And you won’t, as long as I’m around.”

And then he was gone. And I lay across the front seat of my beat-up car, crying into the vinyl, hurting, hurting so much.

But I was still inside the car.

When I woke up, I didn’t know how much time had passed. Somehow, all the smoke and cobwebs that once had fogged my brain had cleared, like someone had gone in with a mini-vac and sucked it clean. The aching, the craving, was still there. But it was manageable. I could make it. I knew that I could make it.

Rachel needs you, the voice in my head insisted. You have no more time to waste.

And yet I didn’t immediately start the car. I sat up straight and stared into the mirror. All I could see were my eyes, but somehow, that was enough.

I could catch this man, I told myself, looking right into those red, tired, mismatched eyes. I had the means, the gift. If only I could put it all together…

I tried to let my mind drift, free-associate. I thought if I opened things up enough, I might spark a connection, discover whatever it was I knew but my conscious mind had not yet seen.

Relax, I told myself. Breathe in, hold it, release. Breathe in, hold it, release.

I had been so sure I had him, back at the Transylvania. I could almost feel him in my grasp. But I’d come up short.

Pull back, Susan. Let your mind wander…

Had the three cheerleaders come to the Transylvania? Had the others?

My eyes opened.

Uniforms.

That was the key, damn it. Uniforms.

What did Helen have on the walls in her bedroom? What did she have pasted into her scrapbook, on her Web page? Not rock stars. Not TV hunks. Cops, firemen, doctors, pilots…

And what did they have in common? Uniforms. Where did she sneak out to in her black leather bad-girl getup? A biker bar? The teen stud club? No. The Army grunt hangout. Because that’s where she would find men in uniforms.

Helen had a thing for uniforms. She liked them.

She trusted them.

Tiffany admired policemen, firemen. She dreamed of one day being a cop herself, because she admired them so.

She trusted them.

There’s more, I heard a voice within me saying. Keep working it, keep digging…

Darcy had shown me the burn mark where the door had been forced, the door to the ballroom where Helen Collier was found. But why was that significant?

Because it pointed
away
from the room, not toward it. Because the chain had been torched from the inside.

Edgar had already been inside when he brought out his acetylene torch. He’d had access to the room. Breaking the chains andforcing the lock had been just another clever trick to throw us off his trail.

My respiration spiked. I was breathing hard and heavy, my heartbeat racing. I was getting there. I knew I was getting there.

I stormed into headquarters, taking them all by surprise. The feds appeared to be reorganizing our offices into an FBI hostage crisis center. Which wasn’t a bad idea, in theory. But I knew that by the time they were finished, it would be too late for Rachel.

Patrick was in the chief’s office, conferencing. Darcy sat silently behind O’Bannon’s desk.

“Susan!” O’Bannon bellowed. “Where the hell have you been?” He looked at me suspiciously.

“Go ahead, sniff my breath. I haven’t been drinking.”

“Then what? Damn it-this is your own niece.”

“I know that,” I said firmly. “I also know he won’t kill her. Not yet. He might… do things to her. But she’s strong. She’ll survive. I did.”

“Susan, our investigators have a thousand questions-”

“And I’ll answer them. But in exchange, I want five plainclothes answering to me and complete freedom.”

They stared at me, all of them, speechless.

“And I’d like Patrick, if the Feebs can spare him. And Darcy,” I added. “Most importantly, Darcy.”

O’Bannon stared at me uncomprehendingly. “Have you taken complete leave of your senses?”

“Just the opposite. Regained them, finally.”

He looked as if he were about to burst a blood vessel. “Even given the bizarre assumption that I said yes, what do you think you’d do?”

“Go back to the Transylvania.”

“You already played that hunch! It was a good theory. But it didn’t pan out. None of the guests-”

“He isn’t a guest. He works there.”

Patrick stepped forward. “Susan, I looked at the employee rolls. I didn’t see anyone who-”

“Then we need to line them up and let me look. I’ll recognize the rat bastard.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. It’s obvious, once you know.”

“Know what? What do you think he does?”

“I’m not sure. But I know he wears a uniform.” I paused. “I think there’s a good chance he’s a cop.”

He frowned. “A cop?”

“Or something like a cop. Don’t they have security at the Transylvania? I thought I remembered seeing some.”

“Of course they do. But they might contract the security out, like most of the big houses.” He snapped his fingers. “Which would explain why he didn’t turn up on the employee rolls.”

“I need to get over there immediately.” I turned to O’Bannon and looked him square in the eyes. “With your permission.”

He barely hesitated a second. “Consider yourself back on the case.”

“Good. I’ll stay in touch.”

“You won’t have to. I’m coming with you.” He pulled out his desk drawer and tossed something onto his desk. A gun. My gun. “I think you may need this.”

“I don’t know. If you’re not-”

He pressed it into my hand. “I insist.”

“We need to blanket the hotel,” Patrick said. “Make sure he doesn’t slip out before we identify him. How much time do we have till this Day of Ascension?”

I checked my watch. “Only a few hours.”

“
Hours?
Then the Day of Ascension-”

“When else?” I led the way to the door. “Today. Halloween. At the witching hour.”

“You think this place will be ready in time, Ernie?” Martin asked.

He was calm and confident. “I don’t see why not. The grand opening isn’t until midnight.”

“But there’s so much still to do.” Both pairs of eyes scanned the ballroom. The façade of the Notre Dame cathedral was largely in place, but some of the surrounding decorations were in pieces on the floor, waiting to be assembled. Exposed scaffolding occupied a corner of the room. “I hear the hunchback is still experimenting with his makeup. And what’s with these bells?” He gestured toward the huge six-foot bells that were being hoisted into place at the front of the cathedral. “Those mothers are huge. And heavy. Why would the hotel lay out so much for bells?”