Forever Man (4 page)

Izzy nodded. “I know, but what was I supposed to do? He’s my husband. I couldn’t tell him to stay away.”

“Bob’s got a point,” Sten agreed quietly. “It’s bad police procedure to have a civilian here, let alone the father of a missing girl.”

“I’m her mother,” she said, frustration creeping into her words. “Should I stay away too?”

“See what I mean?” Sten replied. “You’re trained for this, and already it’s getting to you.”

Izzy forced herself to relax. “I understand what you both are saying, but for now, he stays. We’ll deal with the rest as it comes.” Her eyes strayed to the plastic tarp. “Let’s get this over with.”

“You sure you want to do this?”

She swallowed past a lump in her throat. It would be difficult seeing Jimmy’s remains, knowing that her daughter was last seen with him. “I have to. It’s my job.”

“We’re going to have to call his parents soon. See if Jimmy’s actually at home.”

“I know,” Izzy said. She hated making these types of calls, but this one would be especially rough. She and Stanley had known the Cains for years. Denny worked as the assistant manager at Stanley’s drug store. And while he had some rough edges, he was generally a likable man. Maddie, on the other hand, was a sweetheart. News of her son’s death was going to crush her.

Sten crouched down and grasped one edge of the tarp. “You ready?”

Izzy nodded, and Sten lifted the tarp away from the body.

She stiffened. Jimmy had been ripped to shreds, his face reduced to a pulpy mass of lacerations. A large flap of skin had been peeled back near the hairline, exposing part of his skull. One blow had torn clean through both cheeks—his jaw hung obscenely open, his tongue poking through the destroyed flesh like some kind of pink slug. His eyes were missing, taken either by whatever had attacked him or by forest scavengers.

But it was his chest—

“Where’s…?”

Sten nodded toward the tree line. There, lying among the trees like a piece of discarded trash, was Jimmy’s ribcage. Something had torn it completely out of his body.

“Jesus,” whispered Izzy. “What could have done this?”

“No idea.” Sten lowered the tarp. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Animal tracks?”

“A few. I’ve marked them off.”

“We’ll need DNR up here. Maybe they can tell us what we’re dealing with.”

“I’ve already put in the call.”

“Hey.” Bob Talbert was waving them over. “You guys are gonna want to see this.”

“What’ve you got?” Izzy asked as they walked over to him.

“There,” Bob replied, pointing to a spot on the ground.

Izzy crouched down. Sten followed suit.

There was a small amount of dark fluid mixed in with the dirt. Its shape was uneven, as if it had been rubbed or smeared by something. Part of a leaf was stuck in it, making her think the fluid was viscous. To Izzy, it looked like congealed blood.

She glanced over at Jimmy’s body. It lay several feet away. And the ground showed no evidence that he’d been dragged there.

“And here,” Sten added, pointing to a low, sharp branch coated with blood.

Izzy stared for a moment, trying to puzzle together the meaning of the blood and the branch. “Where’s the ME?”

“On his way,” Sten answered. “Apparently he’d gone fishing. Muskellunge Lake. No cell coverage. Someone had to boat out and get him.”

“Make sure he types this. Nat’s is A negative. I don’t know Jimmy’s blood type.”

Sten paused. After an uncomfortable silence, he said, “You got it, Chief.”

Izzy frowned. “What? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I’ll tell the ME to put a rush on the blood typing. Make sure the results are forwarded to your office.”

Forwarded to my—? That’s when she realized she’d been issuing orders as if she were taking over his investigation.

“Sten…look, I’m sorry. You’re lead on this. Everything goes through your office.” She made a helpless gesture with her hands. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“You can run this, Chief. I’d understand.”

“No, I want you on it. I’d be too close, too emotional. I might miss something. Really, I’m sorry.”

“No worries. I understand. Hell, I’d behave the same if it were one of my kids.” His face grew serious. “We’ll find her, Izzy. Whatever it takes, we’re going to bring her home.”

She gave him a grateful smile, then heard a rustle of leaves. Turning, she saw Stanley round the corner of the trail.

His appearance shocked her. He must have been running through the woods for some time. Sweat had moistened his skin until he glistened. His damp hair hugged the contours of his skull. Branches had scratched fine lines across his cheeks. His clothes were a semaphore of torn fabric.

But it was his eyes that disturbed her the most.

She had expected the bloodshot, puffy glare of a panicked father. But Stanley…his eyes had a darker cast, more bruised, as if they had been battered by his worst fears.

“I want to know,” he said evenly, his eyebrows drawing together, “where the hell you’ve been.”

She felt Sten go still. Next to him, Bob Talbert shifted slightly, eyes cast down, his hand settling casually on the butt of his gun.

“I’ve been here.” She stepped forward, putting her body between him and her officers. “Trying to figure out what happened.”

“What happened?” Stanley said. “Who the hell cares
what happened
? The only thing that matters is that Natalie’s missing. Our little girl is gone.”

“Stanley, please. We’re doing what we can to find her.”

“By standing around?” he exploded, throwing his arms in the air. “Why aren’t you out there, searching the woods? Don’t you have dogs that can track her? Or—or a helicopter? Something that can fly overhead and look?”

“You’re jumping to the end of this. There’s a process to an investigation. We follow specific procedures because they work. It’s the quickest way to—”

“Quit talking to me like a cop! Talk to me as my wife—as the mother of our missing daughter.”

“—to
find
Natalie,” she finished, her voice climbing. “I want that, too. More than anything, I want to find my baby. But if I waste resources on an assumption, then I do more harm than good. I need to know what happened before I can decide where to look.”

“Oh, come on,” Stanley said, his frown deepening. “It doesn’t take a Columbo to figure this out. Jimmy and Nat came up here after the dance. For whatever reason, they decided to take a walk. Something attacked Jimmy. Now Nat’s missing. She probably ran away from whatever”—he gestured toward Jimmy’s tarp-covered body—“did that. Now she’s lost in the woods, which is where we should be searching. How goddamn complicated is that?”

Izzy nodded. “Okay, let’s say you’re right. Let’s say she got away from whatever killed Jimmy. As soon as the sun came up, she’d have her bearings. She’d know that if she walked west, she’d either hit the trail or the lake. Either way, she should be able to find her way out.”

Except, she thought, for the blood and the branch. They bothered her. If the blood turned out to be Natalie’s, that meant she was hurt, possibly seriously. She might not be able to get out. Then again, if she was hurt, how could she have gotten away from whatever attacked Jimmy? Nothing about this made sense.

“So all you’re going to do is sit and wait?” asked Stanley. “Hope our little girl shows up?”

Izzy looked at Sten. He gave her a “go for it” shrug. Turning back to Stanley, she said, “We’re going to continue our investigation. Sten’ll wait here for the crime scene people. And Carlton will stay down by the lake. If Natalie shows up, we’ll know. I’m going to go talk with J.J. Sallinen. He was one of the last persons to see Natalie and Jimmy together. Maybe he knows something.”

Stanley’s hands clenched into fists. “That’s it? You’re not going to search for her?”

“I’m going to put the word out. If she doesn’t show up in the next couple of hours, we’ll organize a search party to comb the woods. We may be able to get a few hours in before nightfall. But it’ll probably be tomorrow morning before we have enough people to really go through those woods.”

“And what am I supposed to do?”

“I want you to go home.” She put up her hands to forestall another outburst. “I need you there in case she calls.”

“I’m not leaving her alone in these woods.”

“Dr. Morris.” Sten Billick stepped up next to Izzy. “If your daughter managed to get away from whatever killed the Cain boy, then she’s also likely to find her way out of here. And what do you think she’ll do first? She’ll call home.” He nodded his head toward Stanley. “She’s going to need her dad. And you’ll want to be there for her.”

Stanley shot the detective a look that could’ve chipped paint from a wall. His body tensed, and Izzy thought he was going to throw a punch. Then he began to tremble. With tears spilling from the corners of his eyes, he started walking stiffly down the trail.

“I’ll let you know if I she calls,” he said. “Find her, Iz. Please, just find her.”

Izzy watched until he disappeared from view. How could she be so uncertain about her feelings for him, yet still ache to see him hurting?

Turning to Sten, Izzy said, “Keep looking. I’ll let you know what J.J. has to say.”

“Good luck with that one,” he grunted. “I hope for your sake his dad isn’t home.”

Izzy’s police cruiser slowed as it approached the Sallinen house at the end of Ryanwood Street. She saw Jack Sallinen’s black Mercedes CL 600 parked in the driveway and swore under her breath. Her day was about to get worse, if that were even possible.

She parked behind the Benz, then headed up the front walk.

Two large oaks shaded the expensive colonial. Along the front of the house, manicured tea roses mingled with designer shrubs. Jack Sallinen had even replaced the concrete walkway with red paver stones. The landscaping alone had to have cost at least fifteen grand.

Must have been nice.

At the front door, she pulled out her notepad and rang the doorbell.

A few moments later, the door opened. Instead of Jack, his son Kevin stepped out onto the porch. The eight-year-old wore blue pajamas that ended about two inches shy of his ankles. Unruly black hair framed his face. His eyes roamed the landscape, skimming over everything but her. In one hand, he held a Pop-Tart. In the other, a piece of paper with a drawing on it.

“Hello, Kevin,” she said gently.

“Pop smart.” He held out the half-eaten pastry.

“Yes, I see. It looks yummy.” Pointing to the paper, she added, “Did you draw that?”

At first Kevin didn’t respond. She was about to repeat her question when he lifted the paper toward her. On it was a crayon picture of an animal. Although the drawing was limited to brown and black smears, Izzy could make out four limbs and an elongated body. The head looked a little wolfish. He’d added raindrops and lightning bolts.

“That’s wonderful. What is it?”

“Fickle-fek.”

His answer puzzled but didn’t surprise her. The boy’s autism made conversations difficult.

Izzy heard a door shut and looked up. Jack Sallinen had emerged from a room and was striding down the hallway toward them, his face a mixture of anger and resentment.

At the doorway, he crouched down next to his son. “Hey buddy, why don’t you go watch some TV? Or maybe draw me another picture? I think I can find a spot on the fridge.”

Kevin nodded, turned—then stopped. He held out the drawing to Izzy.

She frowned slightly. “Yes, I saw. It’s lovely.”

He gave the picture a little shake.

Finally understanding the boy’s intent, Izzy nodded and took the picture. “Thank you.”

Wordlessly, Kevin retreated into the house.

Okay, she thought. Time to deal with the dad.

Jack Sallinen stood. He was dressed casually in beige chinos, a polo shirt, and deck shoes. His brown hair was neatly combed, his cheeks clean-shaven. Even though he had put on a few extra pounds over the years, Izzy couldn’t help but begrudge how handsome he was. At least, on the surface.

“Chief Morris,” he said, glancing at her shorts and sweatshirt. She hadn’t had time to change. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’d like to talk to J.J.. Is he here?”

“He just got back from the gym,” he said, a puzzled look on his face. “He’s in the shower. Why? What’s this about?”

“Something happened last night.”

Jack stepped outside and closed the door behind him. “And this ‘something’ involves my son?”

She briefly summarized the events of the morning.

“The Cain boy’s dead?” Jack said, sounding amazed. “But I still don’t understand. What’s this got to do with J.J.?”

“He was Jimmy’s best friend. He and Katie were at the dance with Jimmy and Natalie. Maybe he saw or heard something last night that can help us understand what happened.”

“I see,” he muttered, apparently lost in thought.

“Jack, this is serious. I’ve got a dead boy, and my daughter is missing. She could be hurt. I really need to hurry on this. So please, could you go get your son?”

“Tell me,” said Jack. “Have you determined whether the Cain boy’s death was accidental or intentional?”

“What? I don’t see how—?”

“Please bear with me. Do you think his death was an accident or not?”

Where the hell was he going with this? “It’s too soon to tell. And that’s all I’m going to say at this point.”

“So, it
could
go either way. We could, at some point, be talking about a possible homicide?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, irritated at the man’s persistent stalling. “I’m simply not going to discuss an ongoing case. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to talk to J.J..”

Jack was silent for a moment, then he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Chief Morris. I can’t let you involve him in this. Just being questioned by the police…people might get the wrong impression. I won’t risk the taint of a criminal investigation getting attached to his name. And I do have my own reputation to consider.”

Izzy slowly lowered her pad and pen. “You’re worried about reputations? Okay, maybe you didn’t understand me, so I’ll say it again, this time in short sentences.” She spoke her next words with exaggerated clarity. “My daughter is missing. J.J. might know something. I need to talk to him.”