Mind Games (27 page)

“Diana wouldn’t play his game unless he promised not to kill his victim. So he had to find someplace to hide her. Someplace no one would look. Where’s the phone book?”

Jenrette pulled out two books from his bottom drawer. “This book encompasses most of the parish.” He scanned the yellow pages. “There are some storage units that aren’t in here. You know the kind—two or three units attached to another business or in someone’s back yard.” He left his office and returned. “Deacon and Farley each have a book and I told them to split up the calling. Dumar’s gone out to cover the little ones around here that aren’t in the books. He knows this area good as anyone, and nobody holds back information when he comes around. Macon may have paid someone to keep quiet, but I’m sure they didn’t know what he had in mind when he rented the place. All they have to hear is they’d be an accessory to kidnapping and a possible murder, and that’ll open ’em up fast.”

Lucier liked the way McCoy Jenrette did business.

In less than half an hour they had a hit when Farley stuck his head into the office. “The clerk at one of the units off the four-lane rented a space two days ago to a guy fitting Macon’s description. Dumar’s halfway there.”

“Good work.” Jenrette called EMS and told them where to go.

Lucier and Jenrette were out the door and were at the storage place within half an hour. The ambulance waited when they arrived and Dumar was talking with the owner.

“Macon requested a back unit,” Dumar said.

“Didn’t you see his picture on the news?” Jenrette asked the owner.

“I only watch the sports channels,” he replied. “Why’d he want a back unit anyway? The two break-ins I’ve had have been in back where no one can see.”

“He didn’t want anyone to see him bring his valuables,” Dumar said.

“I think you’re right, Carl,” Lucier said, “and I’m sure he took his chances being recognized. But I don’t think he expected Ms. Racine to get us this far.”

They followed the owner to the last row in the complex. The ambulance crawled behind.

“This is the place, right here.” The owner singled a key from the ring, slipped it in the lock, and raised the overhead door.

Jenny
McClellan
sat on the floor in the far right corner, duct tape across her mouth and around her hands and feet. A chain wrapped twice around her waist and fastened to a hook in the cement wall prevented her from getting to the metal door to make noise. From the terror expressed in her red, swollen eyes, she expected her assailant had returned for her.

Lucier identified the group as police and inched toward the girl. “We’re not going to hurt you. We’re here to take you home.” He yanked the tape from her mouth—fast was best—which unleashed a flood of sobs.

“I want to go home,” she said through hiccupping sobs. “I want my daddy.”

“We’ll take you to your parents. You’re going to be all right, Jenny,” Lucier said, removing the binding tape. He gestured to Jenrette, who went outside to call the McClellans and let them know their daughter had been found safe and that they’d meet up at the hospital.

Dumar returned from his pickup with a bolt cutter and snapped the chain, releasing the girl from her bondage. Jenny McClellan’s legs had fallen asleep from sitting so long in one spot, so the paramedics lifted her and carefully laid her on a stretcher, checked her vitals, and loaded her in the ambulance. When inside, they inserted an IV.

“The son of a bitch would have let her die without water or food,” Dumar said. “So help me, if I get a crack at him I hope you all look the other way.”

“You’re gonna have to push me out of the way first,” Jenrette said.

“Not a problem, Chief,” Dumar said.

* * * * *

L
ucier returned to the station for his car so he could tell Diana in person about finding the girl. Deacon met Jenrette with a message.

“A guy by the name of Granger called. Said a man fitting Macon’s description was at The Roadhouse the other night. That’s about twenty miles from the cabin.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

A Lesson Learned

L
ucier and Jenrette had a hell of a time finding the trailer park where Mitch Granger lived. They followed his directions but kept missing the obscure cutoff, which the man failed to mention. Lucier caught a glimpse of a rotted wood sign covered by weeds at the end of a dirt driveway, and a quarter mile down, they found a cluster of dilapidated trailers. Granger stood in front of the most habitable-looking one, hands folded across his chest. A tarp-covered motorcycle sat next to his souped-up Dodge Charger, its back window adorned with confederate flag stickers. A self-satisfied smile lit his face until he saw Lucier get out of the car.

“Ya have trouble finding the place?” he asked.

“Hell, no,” Jenrette said. “Drove right up.”

Lucier detected a flash of disappointment on Granger’s face and figured the man intentionally gave them the most circuitous route.

Granger, tough looking and grimy, could have passed for a bona fide Hell’s Angel. Maybe he was. His swarthy complexion—made grittier by a three-day growth of beard—greasy black hair, and tight fitting Harley-Davidson T-shirt matched in style to the complicated tattoos decorating both arms, including an ominous-looking swastika. No doubt an ex-member of the prison brotherhood. An unfiltered cigarette hung from his mouth, and when he spoke, Lucier noticed two rows of rotten teeth. The man’s squinty stare and curled lip directed at Lucier persuaded him to let Jenrette do the talking.

“Why are you so sure the man is the one you saw on television?” Jenrette asked.

“Because it looked like him,” Granger said. “He didn’t flaunt his face around or nothin’, but it was him all right.”

“Was he alone?”

“Yeah, when he came in. Hard not to notice a stranger when he walks into a local bar. They kinda stand out, if you know what I mean. ’Specially one looks like him.” He locked his beady black eyes on Lucier. “Like fish outta water. Catch my drift?”

Jenrette ignored the blatant racial innuendo. “Did he talk to anyone or leave with anyone?”

“He sat at the bar and talked with the bartender the whole time. Course she was all over him, sticking her big tits in his face. He couldn’t ignore them. Not if you’ve ever seen Alice’s tits. He was still there when I left.”

“What time was that?” Lucier asked.

Granger answered Jenrette as if Lucier didn’t exist. “’Bout one. Knowin’ Alice, she got what she wanted after she closed up.”

“You know where Alice lives?” Jenrette asked.

“There a reward for this guy?” Granger asked, his eyes like lasers on Lucier.

“Could be, if we get him ’cause of your information.” Jenrette moved in front of Lucier to break Granger’s eye contact. “Alice, you know where she lives or don’t you?”

“Hell, every man in town knows where Alice lives.”

Granger gave them directions to Alice’s apartment complex. Lucier hoped they were better than the ones he gave to his house. Before getting into the car, Lucier turned and asked, “What kind of car does Alice drive?”

“Red Camaro, eighty-eight,” Granger said to Jenrette.

* * * * *

J
ake Farley drove his pick-up into the parking lot of Alice Mayburn’s apartment complex. He saw the silver Corolla with Alabama plates and called Jenrette. “The Corolla’s here, but I don’t see the Camaro.”

“We’re two blocks away, Jake. Don’t do anything till we get there. Deacon and Dumar are on their way too.” Jenrette flipped his phone shut. “I think we’ve gotta move fast. Either Macon’s there alone or he’s killed the woman and taken the car.”

The two unmarked vehicles drove into the complex with little fanfare. Farley stood outside the door of her building. Deacon covered the back exit. The three men joined Farley and entered the building. With guns drawn, they silently mounted the steps to the second floor apartment. Standing to the side, Jenrette banged on the door and made the customary police announcement. No response.

Carl Dumar motioned everyone to stand back while he mustered his impressive power and kicked the door open with one thrust of his huge foot. They rushed inside, scattering to every corner of the apartment, checking the bathroom and opening closet doors.

“Looks like they’ve split,” Farley said. “When a woman’s personals are gone, she’s gone.”

“Shit,” Jenrette said. “The son of a bitch is always one step ahead of us.” He speed-dialed his office and ordered a BOLO for Alice Mayburn’s car. He emphasized that Macon was armed and dangerous and to approach with extreme caution. “We’ll get ’em,” he said. “We’ll get the fuckers.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Daddies’ Little Girls

D
iana lay in bed, trying desperately to meditate her mind clear, the one weapon she had to defeat Macon. She’d been overjoyed to learn
Jenny
McClellan
was alive and safe. The girl was somewhere in the hospital getting a thorough check-up, after which she planned a visit to Diana’s room to thank her.

“You saved that girl’s life, you know, baby,” Galen said. “Story’s all over the newspapers and television.”

“Macon will go ballistic when he sees she’s been found. Ernie figured out the location.”

Galen held eye contact with her. “He’s a pretty smart fellow for…”

“Yes, Galen? He’s a pretty smart fellow for what?”

Galen squirmed in his chair. “For…for figuring all that out.”

“Does that mean Macon will try and contact you?” Blanche asked.

Diana, in a fierce stare-down with her father, turned toward Blanche. “I hope not, but he’s obsessed. He still has something to prove, maybe now more than ever.”

“Don’t worry, honey, the police will get him,” Blanche said.

Lucier knocked and opened the door without waiting for a response. “Oh, sorry, I’ll come back later.”

“No, no, come in,” Galen said.

Diana, surprised at Galen’s hospitality, said, “We were just talking about you.”

“You were?”

“Yes. My father said how clever you were to find the girl. She would have died if it hadn’t have been for you.”

“Really.” Lucier’s skeptical expression focused on Diana’s father.

“Yes, weren’t you, Galen?”

“Hmmph, good job, Lieutenant,” Galen mumbled. “Good job.”

“Diana gave me all the information,” Lucier said, sneaking a glance at her. “I just put the pieces together.”

Another knock and the door opened to Jenny Mc
Cl
ellan holding her father’s hand. “Is this a bad time?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Diana said, doing her best to hide a wince caused by sitting up. “You must be Jenny.”

The girl withdrew at the sight of Diana’s face, but regained her composure and approached the bed. “I want to thank you for finding me,” she said in a tiny voice. “I didn’t think anyone would.”

The girl, tall for her age, prompted Diana to think how much faster girls grew up these days. When she was fourteen, she looked nine. Now, a girl fourteen looked like a college coed. But they were still fourteen.

“Come here, sweetheart, sit down on the bed for a minute so Lieutenant Lucier can hook your locket around your neck. Anyway, he’s the one who figured out where you were from a few clues I gave him.”

“Thank you,” Jenny said to Lucier.

He smiled, then fastened the locket. “There you go. How are you feeling?”

“I was hungry and cold when the police found me, but I feel better now. I’ll be glad to go home with my mom and dad.”

“I bet you will,” Diana said. “One thing I’m sure everyone’s told you is that even a grown up girl like yourself has to be very careful about talking to strangers. Don’t be fooled by good looks and a nice way. That’s the type of stranger you should stay away from. You’re a lucky girl. You know that, don’t you?”

Jenny nodded, then looked at her dad.

“The man who took you is very bad. He took me too, and although I may not look lucky right now, I’m grateful to be here.”

“I guess we’re both lucky,” Jenny said. “I promise to be more careful from now on.”

“Good. Me too.”

“We’d better go, dear,” Mr. Mc
Cl
ellan said. He looked at Diana and Lucier. “I can’t tell you how beholden we are to you both. We’ve lived every parent’s worst nightmare, and I thank God nothing happened worse than it did. And a speedy recovery to you, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mc
Cl
ellan.”

He took his daughter’s hand and left.

“Well, a happy ending,” Blanche said. “We better go too, Galen. Diana needs her rest.”

“Okay, dear.” Galen looked at Lucier. “You coming, Lieutenant?”

“No, I think I’ll stay awhile, Mr. Racine. I have some things I need to discuss with your daughter.”

Galen looked toward Diana, who dared him to object.