Hidden Fire, Kobo (3 page)

"Not a problem." Eldridge
turned to his men. "Hatch, Frasier—canvass the neighbors on our side of
the property. Report directly to Detweiler and keep me apprised of anything you
find."

Two men nodded and peeled off, leaving
Eldridge with one other deputy. "All right, Claussen," Eldridge said.
"You can get back to work. And I need your nightly reports on my desk by
nine tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," Claussen said.

After the man left, Eldridge shook his
head. "Decent cop, but he hates the paperwork. He's taken twelve calls
already tonight. Can't seem to get it through his head that without the
reports, he's keeping everyone in a vacuum."

"I hear you. At least everything's
computerized now." He extended his hand. Eldridge's grip was firm with no
attempt at one-upmanship.

Eldridge departed and drove off in the
last county car as Kovak's car pulled up. The Pine Hills Police Department's
other detective got out and strode toward him. Under the bright lights, his
close-cropped blond hair glowed almost pink from the scalp beneath it. He
smiled his crooked grin.

"Glad to see you back, big guy. I
didn't expect you until tomorrow."

"Can't say I'm glad to be here. This
is a mess."

Kovak nodded. "Once I saw the scene,
I knew we had an all-hands-on-deck case and called the chief. How'd you get
here so fast?"

"My last case wrapped up early. I
was already in town when the chief called me."

Kovak's gaze swept over Randy. "And
from the way you're dressed, he called you away from something. Let me guess.
You were having dinner with Sarah. Rob's or Martinelli's?"

Randy shook his head. "Rob's. I
trained you too well, partner."

"Sorry to cut your evening short."

"Not as sorry as I am." He
pushed those regrets aside. "You get anything from the neighbors? Gunshots
should have been loud enough."

"Yeah, right." Kovak thumbed
through his notebook. "The usual excuses. Not home, watching television,
in the shower. Asleep, thought it was a car backfiring. Kids take pot shots in
here all the time, nobody pays much attention. A lot of wild oats sowing, maybe
a little grass smoking. 'Kids will be kids' seems to be the attitude."

"What about the busybodies? There
are always a few," Randy said.

"Of course. They saw suspicious
characters lurking last week, last night. Saw someone in the grocery store who
looked like a criminal. Might be male, female, black, white, or anything in between."
He glanced at his notes again. "Mrs. Crenshaw is positive she saw the
latest
America's Most Wanted
suspect."

"I'll get back to her. Cars?"

"Always, but no two said the same
thing. Houses are set back from the road and it's not a high-traffic street. We've
got a van, SUV or sports car. Maybe a pickup. Or a Corvette. Red, or black, or
blue. Going to be impossible to track down."

But they'd have to try. Thoughts of sleep
flew away like a scattered flock of pigeons.

Connor called out. "Hey, if you two
are done with the reunion bit, I could use some help. We have a scene to
process. County's sending backup with their fancy gizmos, but no reason we can't
make some headway while we wait. For now, our lower tech equipment will have to
do."

"Let me grab a coverall from my
truck and I'll be right with you," Randy said.

"Get my metal detector," Connor
said. He tossed Randy a set of keys. "With all the leaves and undergrowth,
it's going to be hard to spot a shell casing without it."

Kovak followed Randy to the edge of the
woods where they'd parked. "You want me to go run databases or help with
the scene?" he asked.

"Technically, it's your case,"
Randy said. He found his kit behind the seat of his truck and pulled out his
coveralls. "You got the call out."

"I've got no problem turning it
over. I've got enough to do closing the cases I've worked while you were gone.
Nothing like this, of course, but you're the senior detective and I'm happy to
let you bask in the glory."

"Yeah—you mean you don't want to
deal with reporters." Randy climbed into the blue jumpsuit and zipped it
closed, then got his flashlight from under his seat.

Kovak grinned. "See—that's why you're
the head detective. You've already deduced an important fact."

"With any luck, we can toss the
media to the chief. He's the master of the 'talking without saying anything'
hype. But fine, I'll lead. And as leader, I say we work the scene until the
county CSIs get here. Maybe we can impress them with an amazing find."

"You got it. I'll change and get a
camera." Kovak headed toward his unmarked unit.

Randy filled his pockets with evidence
bags, hung a camera around his neck, then unlocked Connor's van and retrieved
the metal detector. "I'll start where they found the body," he said.

"I'll see if I can find where they
came in," Kovak said. "They didn't beam down into the middle of that
copse of trees." He stood at the edge of the property and scratched the
top of his head. "This sucks. Twenty-five acres of potential crime scene?"
He swept his arm in a broad circle. "Any leaf, twig or rock could have
trace on it. We could be here for months."

Randy took his notebook from a coverall
pocket and opened it to a clean sheet. He drew a circle. "Okay, this is
the property. The body was found here, about thirty yards in." He marked
an X in the circle. "Seems to me, they'd have entered somewhere on this
side. Why take the long way around, especially if you've got someone who's not
happy to be there? Or, if you've already rendered him unconscious, why carry
the dead weight?" He drew two lines in an upside down V with the apex at
the body and the wide portion at the edge of the circle. "I'm guessing if
there's a point of entry, it's somewhere along here." He tapped the paper
on the outside of the arc he'd drawn. "This area is all densely wooded, or
covered with undergrowth. I say if there's evidence to be found it'll be in
here."

"Got it," Kovak said. "But
it still sucks."

Randy adjusted the headset over his ears
and set off for the point where the body had been discovered. "X marks the
spot," he muttered.

Connor called from the distance. "Detweiler.
Over here."

Sarah rushed to the living room and
clicked on the television, thumbing the remote for Channel Six, getting a used
car dealer from Salem touting his bargains. At the knock on her front door, she
crossed the room to the peephole, trying to keep her eye on the screen at the
same time.

"It's me." Maggie's voice came
from behind the door.

Sarah unlocked the door for her neighbor.
In her yellow terrycloth robe and slippers, Maggie bustled inside, her red
Lucille Ball curls bobbing as she walked.

"What's on the news?" Sarah
asked. "Right now the station is in commercial mode."

"There was something about a murder
and Randy was there."

Sarah heard "murder" and "Randy"
and her heart ricocheted around her chest. "What?"

"I saw the trailer at the end of the
last segment. That new reporter was out in the woods somewhere and she was with
Randy. No sound, only that 'stay tuned' nonsense."

Relief surged through her and Sarah sank
to the couch, tugging her nightshirt over her knees. Neither woman spoke while
the series of ads for everything from hair products to foot creams played out.
When the familiar anchor desk set appeared, Sarah upped the volume.

"Back to our lead story. A body was
discovered on the outskirts of Pine Hills. Channel Six's own Penny Scholnik was
on scene. Here is her report."

The image shifted to a jerky panorama of
a wooded expanse, bright lights and lots of police cars. Penny Scholnik looked
nervous as she held a microphone to Randy's face and asked about a serial
killer.

"Serial killer?" Sarah gasped. "Here?
In Pine Hills?"

"Shh," Maggie said. "Listen."

Sarah refocused her attention to Randy.
Oh, she'd seen that look, although never from the receiving end. He was
furious. Quickly, he rearranged his features into a neutral expression, but his
anger at the reporter's question was obvious to Sarah. He was in full-blown cop
mode and someone was stepping into his territory.

Summarily dismissed by Randy's words,
Penny Scholnik faded off the screen and the anchorman promised to update
viewers as the story unfolded. The broadcast moved on to reports of zoning
disputes from Salem, where the news channel was based. Sarah surfed for a
minute, but there was nothing more on the Pine Hills story. She switched off
the set and stared at the blank screen.

"What do you think, Maggie?" If
anyone could bring a sane and sensible approach to a crisis, it was her retired
schoolteacher neighbor.

"I think little Penny what's-her-name
is an obnoxious twit who has no business carrying a microphone, that's what I
think."

"So you don't think there's a serial
killer in Pine Hills?" Sarah tossed the remote from hand to hand.

"Hogwash. You saw Randy's face. Did
he look like he was covering anything up?"

"No. He was pissed. Royally."

"That he was. I'll believe what the
anchorman said. That they found a dead body out in the woods. Period. Nobody
even said it was murder, much less a serial killer. The way I see it, if there
was anything to worry about, Randy would have called you and told you to bar
the door or get out of town."

Sarah laughed. "Like he did when
there was a peeping Tom across the way."

Maggie stared at her.

"What?" Sarah asked.

"Sweetie, I think that's the first
time you've laughed at anything related to what happened to you. It looks like
you've turned another corner. One of these days, you'll even be able to talk
about it for what it was."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Maggie gave her a look that was both
stern and compassionate. Her schoolteacher stuff. Or was it surrogate mother,
Maggie's self-appointed role in life? "You keep referring to it as your 'little
adventure'. Child, you were kidnapped and could have been killed. That's far
beyond an adventure."

"You have your ways to cope, I have
mine, Maggie. I'm doing fine."

Maggie leaned over and crushed Sarah into
a bear hug, one it took effort to return. "It's not fast and never easy,
but I'm glad to see you're moving forward. How are the nightmares?"

Much as she loved Maggie, Sarah didn't
have the energy to deal with her in mother-hen mode. "No problem,"
she said, but her tone was curt. She got another look from Maggie, less
compassionate this time. "All right," she admitted. "I have them
once in a while. But I wish you'd quit bringing it up. It's over, it's done,
and Chris is in prison."

"That he is, thanks to Randy,"
Maggie said.

"I guess." Her belly tightened.
She dropped her gaze.

Maggie leaned forward and clutched Sarah's
hands. "Oh, my. My, my, my. What happened between you two?"

She tugged on her nightshirt. "Nothing.
I'm just … confused … a little. If we're serious about the relationship, he's
going to be called away like tonight all the time. I'm not sure that's what I'm
looking for."

"Sarah Tucker, you listen to me.
That man loves you and you love him. End of story."

"I loved David, too. And his job
wasn't dangerous. We ran a boutique. If I let myself feel that much for Randy,
what would it be like if I lost him, too? I don't know if I could go through it
again."

Maggie gave Sarah a stare that must have
chilled the bones of countless students. "Life has no promises. No
guarantees." Her eyes glistened. "Sweetie, if you don't follow your
heart, you'll spend your life looking back and wondering what might have been.
Trust me, you don't want that. Randy's good for you."

"Why? You think I need someone to
take care of me?" Sarah extracted her hands from Maggie's grip.

"Of course not. But I do think you're
the kind of person who wants to share her life. With a partner, not a
caretaker."

"That's part of the problem. Randy's
a cop. He's used to being in charge."

"Don't be so quick to pigeonhole
him," Maggie said. "You've been apart for a while. Sometimes when you're
alone, your brain fills the empty places with what you need at the time, not
what's good in the long run. Don't make any hasty decisions."

Right now, she didn't want to make
any
decisions. "I think it's time you went home, Maggie. I have to get some
sleep."

Maggie narrowed her eyes, then stood and
tightened the belt of her robe. "Lock the door behind me."

Sarah heard hurt in Maggie's tone, but
couldn't deal with it now. She walked Maggie to the door and threw the
deadbolt. After a few deep breaths, she wandered into the bedroom and crawled
into bed.

You get out of my head, Christopher
Westmoreland. You're in New Jersey, in prison and I'm fine. You can't hurt me.
You should be the one having nightmares, not me.