Passions of the Dead (A Detective Jackson Mystery/Thriller) (31 page)

He had failed this case but it wasn’t over. Jackson put in his ear piece and started the car. Zor had said Lori “started freaking out.” Had her memory come back? If so, what would she do next? Jackson headed for Alton Baker Park, just over Ferry Street Bridge, about a five-minute drive. His first call was to a detective in the vice unit, requesting he pick up Zor. The drug-dealing bastard would pay for his part in this tragedy.

Next he called Evans. “Where are you?”

“Gorlock’s trailer was empty. I’m on my way to Alton Baker Park. Lori’s friend Jenna called back and said it was Lori’s favorite place.”

“I’m headed over too. When you get there, wait in your cruiser for me. We have a new development.” Jackson clicked off before Evans could ask questions. He had two more calls to make and didn’t want to have to repeat himself.

He pressed speed dial #5 as he raced up the ramp to the bridge.

“Schak, are you at the airport?”

“Yep, but our little lovers are not. Do you want me to stay and keep scouting?”

“No. If airport security is watching for them, that’s all we need. I don’t think they’re getting on a plane this afternoon.”

“Do we have any idea where they are?”

“Evans and I are heading to Alton Baker Park on a tip. You might as well meet us there.” Jackson had planned to tell the taskforce all at the same time, but he realized Schak would arrive late and they would already be searching the massive area. Schak needed the information now. “We have a new development.”

“I’m listening.”

“Lori had PCP in her blood when she was admitted to the hospital.” Jackson waited to see if his partner would go in the same direction he had. Schak had been one of the officers trying to take down the PCP-crazed man.

It took him a full second. “Oh fuck. She killed them, didn’t she?”

“I’m starting to think so.”

“Jesus Christ. Did you see the dent in her father’s head? It looked like it was made by an enraged giant.”

“What about her mother’s hand?” Jackson still felt shell-shocked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” He slammed his brakes as the traffic slowed. Rush hour was over and the sun was dropping in the sky. The traffic surprised him. “Will you call McCray and update him? Tell him to meet us at Alton Baker. Lori and Shane bought methadone tablets this afternoon and may have crushed them to get high. I don’t know what to expect.”

“I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

Jackson was soon on the circular exit to the city park that stretched for acres along the river. Named after the man who founded the city’s newspaper, Alton Baker was connected by bike paths to other parks along the south bank of the river and to the Valley River Center mall on the north bank. Its four-hundred acres contained a duck pond, covered picnic areas, a slough for canoeing, and an outdoor amphitheater.

The parking area was surprisingly full. It was early June and all the high school and college students had just started summer break. The day had been overcast, but the young people playing frisbee wore shorts and sandals anyway. Jackson had one of those moments where he resented his long-sleeved sports jacket. It wasn’t required, but it was necessary to be taken seriously.

He locked his car, then jogged the length of the parking lot looking for the Walkers’ green Subaru. He didn’t see it, but there was another parking area closer to the amphitheater. On the return search, he saw Evans pull in. Jackson picked up his pace.

She hustled over, vibrant with energy. “What’s the new development?”

Jackson suddenly felt tired and wounded. “Parker called with Lori’s tox screen. She had PCP in her system when she was admitted to the hospital.”

“Holy shit.”

“It changes everything.”

A moment of silence. “You think she might have killed her family.”

“We have to consider it.” Jackson mentally kicked himself again. “We should have already considered it.”

“She has such a baby-girl face and she’s so scrawny. I can’t see her doing it.” Evans wasn’t arguing with his theory; she was going through the same process of rationalization he had.

“She was critically wounded too,” Jackson added.

“Do you think Nick stabbed her? Defending his parents?”

“Probably. He wasn’t knocked down with the bat, so he had a fighting chance.”

“Oh God. Poor girl. No wonder she blacked it all out.” Evans scanned the area as they talked, checking everyone who passed. “So Lori’s probably not in danger from Shane.”

“We can’t assume anything. Shane has a gun, and he may have participated in the murders.”

A flash of understanding registered on Evans’ face. “I don’t think so. The only bloody prints leaving the house were Roy Ingram’s. The killer never left the scene.”

She had nailed it. The thing that had been bothering him since Engall confessed to being there. “I think you’re right.”

“If her memory comes back, she could be suicidal. I would be.”

“Let’s put on our Kevlar vests and go find her.”

As they covered the main grassy area between the parking lot and the duck pond, Jackson noticed the frolickers thinning out. The sun was dropping fast, the wind had picked up, and it was past dinnertime. It would have been more efficient to split up, but Jackson didn’t want Evans finding the suspects and confronting them on her own. Seeing Whitstone as a hostage yesterday made him feel protective. They needed Schak and McCray to help them cover the park thoroughly and safely.

“Let’s check out the area by the theater,” Jackson said after they searched the park’s bathrooms. “Gorlock said Shane has been known to sleep there.”

“Wouldn’t their car be here somewhere if they were in the park?” Evans asked.

She had a point, but two people had given them the same tip. They had to be thorough. “They could have ditched the car, knowing we’re looking for it,” Jackson answered. “Or parked on the other side of the river and came over on the footbridge.”

The outdoor concert stage was in the east end of the park, closest to Autzen Stadium where the university’s football team played. They jogged along the curved road leading to the theater. Cuthbert’s seating area was empty and they saw no sign of activity. Jackson and Evans did a quick search of the brush anyway, finding plenty of trash, empty beer bottles, and a rain-weathered sleeping bag. They were wasting their time.

The river flowed by, singing its song, and the sky turned a glorious pink as the sun dropped toward the horizon. To sit on the bank, mesmerized by the current and the song birds was a gift, Shane thought. He stayed in the moment for as long as he could. This was the last time he would ever be this high, he promised himself. Today was an exception. He was struggling with the most unbelievable fucked-up thing he’d ever faced. Even at the peak of his euphoria, the horrible thing Lori had done lurked underneath, waiting for him to acknowledge it.

The buzz from the crushed methadone was already wearing off, and he felt the hard coolness of the rock under his ass. He glanced at Lori. Eyes closed with worry lines puckering her forehead. Very soon, they had decisions to make. Lori had to consider at her future and decide how to live with it. Or not. He hoped she would turn herself in.

“Shane?”

“Yes?” He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it, his lips gentle on her cool freckled skin.

“Do you love me?”

“Of course.”
Did he?
When he looked at her, she was still his lovely Lori. When he thought about her, she was someone else.

“I want you to kill me.”

“Don’t even say it.” When Lori’s memory of that tragic night had come flooding back, she’d become hysterical and her first coherent thought was she wanted to kill herself. Shane had tried to soothe her but his clumsy efforts had been wasted. He couldn’t even bring himself to tell her it would be okay. This was not something she would ever get over. He didn’t know if he still loved her but he couldn’t take her life. “I can’t do it, Lori. It’s too weird.”

Her eyes pleaded for understanding. “I can’t live with this. I killed my whole family. I’m a monster and I want to die.” Because of the methadone, her voice was soft and melodic. As she came down, her self-hatred would only intensify.

Shane had wanted her to experience a few hours of peace before she turned herself in and went to jail. “You’re not a monster. Zor gave you a drug you didn’t ask for. A drug that made you hallucinate and act violently.” He kissed her forehead. “A jury will understand. You won’t be in jail long.” He didn’t believe it but he wanted to give her some hope.

“This is not about a jury or going to jail. I can’t live with
myself
. Would you want to go on living if you had done this?”

Shane wanted to be encouraging but he couldn’t. “No, I wouldn’t.” Thinking about her dreadful situation shredded the last of his peaceful bliss. His heart ached for her and he wanted to help, but he didn’t know how.

“Thanks for giving me these few hours. And thanks for not hating me.” Lori rose slowly, still moving in a haze. “Let’s go up on the pedestrian bridge and look at the river from up there.”

“Okay.” She had so little time left. If she didn’t turn herself in soon, the police would find them. Shane almost hoped they would.

They strolled down the pedestrian/bike path toward the newly built footbridge. Feeling guilty, Shane said, “We could still go to Maui. You were willing to go on the run with me, so I should be willing to go on the run for you.” He prayed she would say no. It was one thing to be a fugitive when you knew you were innocent. It was another to hide out with a wanted killer.

“I can’t run from this,” Lori said. “It’s inside me. Thanks for being sweet.”

They took the pedestrian steps connecting to the bridge. From their vantage point, Shane could see the park had mostly emptied. A couple of cars were in the parking lot, but he didn’t see anyone in the grass below. A breeze tickled his skin, but it gave him no pleasure.

They ambled up to the peak of the arch.

“If I jumped from the bridge, would it kill me?” Lori peered over the railing at the cold, green river below.

“Maybe.” Shane thought about what jumping from the bridge would be like. “The drop isn’t that far but the impact would stun your body, then the cold water would send you into hypothermia. Especially if you weren’t strong enough to swim to shore against the current.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I think you should turn yourself in.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Hold me for a while, please.”

Jackson and Evans hurried along the asphalt to the parking area. He started to regret listening to a low-life like Tyler Gorlock. Yet Evans had heard the same tip about the park. Maybe they hadn’t looked in the right places yet. Or maybe Shane and Lori were in the Subaru headed south on Interstate 5. What did people do when they were high on drugs? He honestly didn’t know. Violence was not usually in a junkie’s bag of tricks, but the thought gave him little comfort. Jackson was now more worried Lori would kill herself and take Shane with her.

Jackson would not underestimate Shane when and if they encountered him, but he had serious doubts Shane had been involved in the killings. His hair found on Carla could have been transferred from Lori as she lay on her mother. Shane belonged in jail or maybe in-patient rehab but he wasn’t a throw-away yet.

“What if they’re not at the park?” Evans said, breathing easy as they ran. “What next?”

“We put Lori’s picture on the news and hope someone turns her in.” Jackson’s abdomen burned in a steady pain he tried to ignore. He wished he’d been able to keep the pain tablets down. He wished he’d had a decent meal today too. Was he getting too old for these round-the-clock cases?

In the fading daylight, McCray stood next to his cruiser, waiting for them. The three city-issued Impalas, plus one old VW bug, were the only vehicles in the area.

“Hey, McCray. You must have heard from Schak. ”

“He’s still on the way. I don’t want to believe that girl is a killer, but I’ve seen what PCP does to people.” McCray shook his head. “This is why I can’t work narcotics.”

“Ready for a search party?”

McCray glanced at the VW parked in the far corner. “I don’t see the Subaru. Is this a dead end?”

“We haven’t searched along the riverbank yet.” Jackson hadn’t coordinated this kind of search in years. “Let’s work in teams. Evans and I will search this whole bank to the left.” He gestured in the direction of the electric plant across the river. “McCray, start on the area past the foot bridge. Let’s make short work of this. We don’t have much daylight left.”

They started off in different directions, then McCray called out softly, “On the footbridge.”

A couple stood near the railing at the peak of the bridge, arms around each other. In the fading light and distance, Jackson couldn’t identify either person, but their sizes matched Shane and Lori.

The three detectives herded back together and Jackson laid out a plan. “McCray, I want you on the other side of the footbridge. We’ll wait until you have the exit covered. Evans and I will approach from this side. Shane and Lori may still be high, and they could be unpredictable. Go.” McCray took off running, his lean body covering the forty yards to his car in a few seconds. Jackson hoped to be that fast and agile when he was in his fifties.