Forever Man (22 page)

“Maybe. Maybe not. Don’t forget, Owens is the one who wants Kevin. As long as the old man sticks around, Vincent will eventually bring your boy back.”

“Then what? We still have to get him back, and from what you said, I don’t think Owens is just going to hand him over.”

Webber’s eyes widened in surprise. Then he smiled.

“You know, there’s hope for you yet.”

Izzy Morris sat at her desk. She and her group had just arrived at the police station. Her computer screen already displayed the results of an internet search for hotels near Kinsey. The station’s Yellow Pages directory lay open to the Hotel-Motel section. She was reaching for the phone to start calling when it rang, startling her.

She answered the phone. It was her dispatcher, Aggie Ripley.

“Phone call for you, Chief.”

“Now’s not the best time. Tell whoever it is to call back.”

Then Aggie told her who it was. Izzy sat up and snapped her fingers. Owens, Gene and Katie looked up at her.

“Put him through,” she told her dispatcher.

“Good afternoon, Chief Morris. Did you like my pictures?” Jack Sallinen sounded so close she could have reached out and choked him.

“Where’s my daughter, you son of a bitch?”

Jack laughed. “Not so civil now, are you?”

“Where is she?”

“Where you’ll never find her. Is Owens with you?”

“Yes.”

“Put me on speakerphone,” Jack said. “I want to talk to him.”

“Like hell. You’re dealing with me. Now tell me where my daughter is.”

She could almost hear the shrug over the phone. “Have it your way. You can bury your brat after I’ve mailed her back, piece by piece.”

“You’re bluffing. You’re a mean-spirited bastard, but you’re not crazy.”

“Think about it,” Jack said. “What have I got to lose? Those pictures mark my end. I might as well make it worthwhile.”

Izzy thought for a moment. “Listen to me. Tell me where Natalie is, and I’ll work with the district attorney. Give her back to me—alive—and I’ll fight for a reduced charge. Work with me, Jack.” Tell me where my daughter is, damn you.

“It’s insulting, you know. Thinking I’m stupid enough to believe you’d give me a break.”

“I just want my daughter back. Give her to me and I’ll help you. I promise.”

There was silence, enough that Izzy began to wonder if Jack had hung up. Then he said again, “Put me on speakerphone. I want Owens in on this.”

She took a deep breath. “Don’t hang up.” She put Jack on hold, hit the speakerphone button, then reconnected his line. “You still there?”

“Present and accounted for. Can you hear me, Owens?”

Bart looked to Izzy, who nodded for him to go ahead.

“I’m here,” he said. “Something I can do for you?”

“Yes, there is. I want my son back.”

“And I want an early retirement,” Owens replied. “Looks like we’re both out of luck.”

Izzy heard a tinny laugh that didn’t belong to Jack. Where ever they were, Jack’s phone had a speaker function. Probably his cell, which would make it harder to trace.

The new voice said, “Early retirement? Now
that’s
funny!”

Darryl Webber.

“Let’s stick with our deal, Jack,” Izzy said. “Will you tell me where Natalie is in exchange for my help with the prosecutor?”

“And I just told you, you dumb-bunny bitch,” Jack answered. “I want my son back.”

Izzy stifled a groan. The stubborn bastard was going to—

“You still there, Morris?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Look, why did you call? You must want something.”

“About time you got to the point,” said Jack. “We’re at what people call an impasse. I want my son. You want your daughter.” He paused for a moment. “I’m proposing a trade.”

Izzy’s hopes soared. If they wanted to trade, then Natalie was still alive.

Still alive
.

She was finally going to get her daughter back!

But Owens’ next words brought her crashing down. With a shake of his head, he said, “There’ll be no deal.”

“
What?
” Izzy and Jack said at the same time.

“You heard me. No trade.” The old man was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. When he was done, he pushed it to Izzy. WE DON’T HAVE KEVIN! “Now let me talk to Darryl.”

The answer seemed to have pushed Jack over the edge. He was screaming: “Give me Kevin or I’ll kill the girl! I’ll fucking kill her! You’ll never see her again, Morris!”

Owens raised his voice. “Darryl, if you don’t take the phone from this gentleman, I’m going to hang up. Then you’ll never see the boy again.”

Izzy started to protest—
you’re going to get my daughter killed
—but Owens raised a hand to silence her. She glared at him. He nodded that he understood her concern, then mouthed
trust me
.

Through the phone she heard a struggle going on. Jack kept repeating that it was his phone. The other man said something low that Izzy couldn’t make out. Then Webber was on the phone.

“Why do you have to be so difficult, Bartholomew?”

“I’m just being practical,” Owens replied.

“Seriously,” Webber said. “What’s your beef with the trade?”

“Because you’re in a worse situation than I am.”

“How so?” There was a note of caution in Webber’s voice.

“You know perfectly well what I mean. We both came here for the boy, and I’m the one who has him. I’d hate to be you when this blows up in your face.”

“Not funny,” Webber said, his voice thin with anger. “I will kill the girl. Jack here may not be a slicer and dicer, but you know perfectly well what I’m capable of. I’ll send her home in tiny little bits. First her fingers, then her toes, then her mouth, and then her nose.” Webber gave a chilling laugh. “Keep the boy from me, old man, and you’ll have to watch that woman put her daughter back together like a fucking jigsaw puzzle. Take the deal.”

Izzy watched as Owens’ gaze rose to meet hers. She saw the answer in his eyes. There was going to be no deal. There couldn’t be. They didn’t have Kevin.

Stall
, she mouthed to Owens.
Take the deal
.
Please.

His small, sad head shake was like a stab in her back.

Natalie was going to die.

“I’m sorry, Darryl,” said Bart. “There’ll be no deal. I’ve got him and I’m keeping him. Good luck with the rest of your short life.”

When Webber’s voice came back, it was pure venom. “This is going to fall on your head, Bartholomew. Everything that happens from this point forward will be your fault. Morris and her daughter. The bartender and that girl. They’re all going to die while you watch. Their blood will be on your hands—as if there isn’t enough of that already.” Webber was breathing heavily, his rage palpable even from this distance. “Do you know who you’re dealing with, Chief Morris? Has he even told you the truth? No? Oh this is rich! You’re gonna love this one. Chief, you’ve partnered up with one of the Fo—”

“—Bye, Darryl,” Owens said and quickly broke the connection.

Izzy shot to her feet. “Wait! What was he going to say? One of the what?”

Bart Owens sat back, crossed his legs, and calmly folded his hands on his knees. Then he looked down and drew in a deep breath. When he spoke, he was still avoiding her gaze.

“I’m sorry. I can’t let anything distract us from finding Darryl. His stories would’ve done just that.”

Izzy’s anger had been growing inside her, first at Jack, then at Webber, and now at Owens. “You told me to trust you, but you just sacrificed my daughter to that madman! You could’ve stalled. Given us more time to find them. But you didn’t. And now they’re going to kill her! You owe me, Owens. I want an explanation. I want to know what Webber was going to say. I want to know who you really are.”

Gene was scowling openly at Owens. Katie looked like she couldn’t decide whether to be concerned for Izzy or curious about Owens.

Owens closed his eyes and drew in another deep breath. Then he opened them. His expression was as hard and unforgiving as granite, and as lonely. “I’m sorry,” he apologized again. “I can’t.”

Gene leaned back into his chair and threw his hands up in the air. “You’re a piece of work, you know that. A real piece of work.”

Owens ignored Gene. He continued to hold Izzy’s gaze.

She stared into his hard, blue eyes. She knew he wasn’t going to look away this time. He was waiting for her to give answer to his refusal.

She set her jaw and leaned forward, placing her hands flat against the desktop. “Fine. Keep your damn secrets. I have two kids to find and they need to come first. But don’t think for a minute I like this situation. Or that I like you. I’m going to focus on finding Natalie and Kevin. And when they’re found—and I
will
find them—I want you gone. Go back to your covert life, hiding behind whatever agency you work for. But Kevin Sallinen stays here. With us. Got it?”

Owens nodded a slow assent. “I understand.”

“You put these pieces into play,” said Izzy to the old man. “What do we do next?”

“Webber has a temper, a bad one, if you can get under his skin. Plus, he’s got to be feeling the pressure. Failure for him is not an option.” Owens expression softened a bit. “Don’t forget, your daughter isn’t his focus. He has to get Kevin. I don’t think he’ll waste time with her until he has the boy. But if he does find Kevin first….” He left the implications hanging.

“So we’re back to either finding Kevin first or finding Webber.” Izzy sat down with a sigh. “I think Jack was using his cell phone. Let’s see if I can locate the towers he connected to. That’ll at least narrow down the area we have to search. This is going to take a few hours.”

Izzy reached for the phone and got back to work.

While Webber argued with Owens on the phone, Jack Sallinen managed to pull himself into some semblance of self-control. It hadn’t been easy—in fact, it’d been damned hard—but he’d managed. The fact that it’d been so hard bothered him. It bothered him because it looked like the Be Nothings were finally getting to him.

And that worried him. Worried him and, truthfully, frightened him.

At that moment, Webber let out a string of expletives that would’ve made a seasoned fisherman like Chet Boardman blush three shades of red. He stood, lips pressed hard together in a thin, bloodless line, and tossed the phone on the dresser.

“You okay there?” Jack asked Webber, ignoring his phone for now.

Webber’s breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps; his lips moved as he formed words Jack could barely make out.

“….Thinks he’s got me beat, does he? Thinks he can outsmart me?” Webber scowled at Jack. “I know what he’s up to, you know. He’s trying to fuck with me. Wants to see if I’ll screw up. He’d love for that to happen. He’d downright
love
it.” Jack was stunned to see tears in the corners of Webber’s eyes. “I won’t let it happen, Jack. I
can’t
. If I don’t finish this job, if I don’t come back with your son—” Webber roughly wiped at his eyes. “Owens is too confident. Too sure of himself. That’s always been his problem. This time, I’ll make sure it’s his undoing.” He gestured for Jack to get up. “Come on, we’ve got something to do.”

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘come back with my son’? What the hell’s going on?”

Webber shouted, “Let’s go!”

Jack took a cautious step back. “Fine, but where are we going?”

“I want to look at the trees,” was Webber’s response as he strode out the door.

Jack didn’t have much choice. He followed the man outside.

To the right of the door, Denny Cain sat in a chair he’d dragged from the room. He’d zipped his jacket up to his chin to help ward off the cold. At his feet sat a brown paper bag.  His hand held a wide, green beer bottle, the kind with the wide mouth that helped you drink faster. From the wet look in his eyes, Jack thought Denny had probably gone through a third of his case already.

“Where you off to?” Denny asked.

Webber stormed by without answering.

Jack shrugged. “He said he wants to see the trees.”

The color left Denny’s face, as if what Jack had said scared him.

Jack stopped walking and stared at the man. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Be careful,” replied Denny. “Watch yourself. And don’t go
into
the woods, no matter what.”

“Jack,” Webber called out as he rounded the corner of the motel. “Move your ass.”

Jack wanted to ask Denny what he meant, but he also didn’t want to make Webber more upset than he already was. With a dismissive shake of his head, he left Denny to his drinking and hustled after Webber.

The ground behind the motel was thick with weeds and tall grasses. Jack moved several feet in and found a white-enameled sink that someone had been using as a fire pit, along with a handful of empty beer cans, some cigarette butts, and even what looked like two used condoms.

The Be Nothings
had set up camp here.

They’re everywhere, son.

Yes, Daddy, they certainly were.

Webber had stopped near the edge of the woods. Jack knew this part of the forest stretched far to the north, maybe far enough to reach Lake Superior. The trees here were old, their massive trunks covered with gray-green mosses. They grew so close to one another that Jack couldn’t see more than a few yards into the forest. The wind hadn’t stripped the leaves from the branches, and the treetops almost glowed with the fires of autumn.

Watch yourself
, Denny had said.

“You wanted trees,” said Jack, spreading his hands. “Well, there they are. Now can we go back? It’s getting cold.”

“Not so fast,” Webber said. From his pocket, he withdrew a small knife that Jack hadn’t seen before. The handle looked like it had been hand carved from some kind of dusky white material, maybe ivory or horn—or bone. There may have once been ridges running along the handle’s surface, but they had been worn smooth until they resembled the veins under a dying man’s skin. The blade was also white, the same white as the handle. Jack realized the entire knife had been carved from one piece of material.