Snake Skin (12 page)

His pretense of being preoccupied with
traffic didn't fool her. "You didn't say a word the entire time we
were in there. And don't blame it on the pretty art teacher with
the cute ass you couldn't take your eyes off."

"Hey, I can look, c-can't I?"

Ahh, when he was angry she caught the slight
stutter. Okay, just so it wasn't something bigger, something that
might interfere with her search for Ashley. She was silent for a
moment. "You're right, my mistake."

He turned to look at her, a scowl crossing
his features. "You thought—Jesus lady, g-get your mind out of the
g-gutter, why don't you!"

"Sorry." She meant it; she should have used
more tact. "But this case is technically out of your jurisdiction
and last thing I need is some zealot fucking up my case."

"Just for the record, I was never molested
by anyone when I was a kid. Laughed at and picked on 'cause I
happened to stutter, yes. But I fought my own battles and no one
ever messed with me. Okay?"

She raised her hands in surrender. "Look, I
said I was sorry. It's happened too many times for me to ignore the
warning signs is all."

"Well, I'd say your radar is due for
re-calibration."

"I can't take any chances. Not with a girl's
life at stake."

He relaxed back in his seat and was silent
for a moment as they exited the parkway at Regent Square.

"You're right. If it'd been my case, I'd be
suspicious too, I guess." He glanced at her, a smile crossing his
features. "You're a pretty smart lady, Guardino." They stopped at a
light. A horde of kids were squealing and chasing each other in
Frick Park. "So how'd you get into this line of work anyway? If you
don't mind me getting personal."

She chuckled. "
Quid pro quo
, you
mean. No, I was never a victim myself. And none of my family are
cops, so can't blame it on that. Guess I'm just a control freak. I
have this need to make sense of this crazy world and this seems
like the best way to do it."

"Hanging out with perverts and child
molesters helps you make sense of the world?"

"No. Catching them does."

Chapter 10

Saturday, 2:32 pm

Gerald Yeager's home was a three-bedroom
apartment in a glass and steel high-rise complex in Highland Park.
One of the few high-rise residential buildings Lucy had seen since
arriving here in Pittsburgh, it looked out of place among the two
story rowhouses, shops, and single-family homes. The anonymous,
cold-blooded building fit Yeager to a T. They arrived before Taylor
but Lucy elected not to wait. She called Walden for an update from
the building's lobby.

Nothing yet on Tardiff, except he wasn't a
registered sex offender. Mrs. Yeager had agreed to a polygraph but
the Mister hadn't. Yeager had also refused to allow a policeman to
accompany him home, a phone tap, or a search of his premises.
Which, right now, made him suspect numero uno in Lucy's mind.

Cold, calculating, clever….Yeager was all
that.

Only downside to Yeager being their man was
that there was no good reason for him to take the time, risk, and
energy to spirit Ashley away unless he wanted her silenced.
Permanently.

Lucy sighed, only half listening as Walden
finished his report. She held the phone to her ear while she and
Burroughs waited for the elevator. She really didn't want to find
another dead kid. Her job was to save the children. At least the
best part of her job.

"I followed up with the Staties about the
NCIC report and list of registered sex offenders. Pretty clean
neighborhood," Walden continued. "Nearest registry offender is two
miles away. I'm letting the troopers handle those."

Lucy decided his instincts were probably on
target. This didn't feel like a stranger-danger quick grab. Just
the opposite. Someone had taken the time and energy to devote
himself to Ashley's needs—and to have his own gratified as well.
"Anything from the hospitals or morgue?"

"Nope. Dunmar didn't do so bad with the
press conference. Their emergency response center is manning the
hotline but so far nothing promising other than the cashier."

"No bus drivers reported anything?" The
elevator dinged its arrival. Burroughs held it for her while she
finished.

"No, but you knew that was a long shot."
Walden's tone was slightly chiding. She agreed; there would be no
easy way out on this case. "Nothing's popped on background checks
or financials. Still waiting to hear back from New York on the
photographer, Tardiff. You want me to stay here, baby-sit some more
or can I turn the duty over to the locals?"

She wondered if the Sheriff was prepared for
the over-time hit their budget was going to take, manning the
control center and keeping people at the house with the mom. Not
her concern, officially, she was just there to advise and make the
locals look good.

"Hang out there a while longer. I'm taking
another crack at the dad, then I'll be back. Call me if anything
comes up." She hung up and entered the elevator. Her ears popped as
they were hurtled up to the fourteenth floor.

"Convenient place for dad," Burroughs told
her. "The zoo is right down the street, he can walk to work."

"What kind of man devotes his life to
working with snakes and lizards?"

He arched his eyebrow, a smile quirking at
his mouth as if he were about to question her own career choice
again. The doors slid open before he could say anything.

Gerald Yeager did not appear happy to see
them. He stood at his door, blocking their view of his personal
space, keeping them in the hallway. "Did you find Ashley?"

"Not yet, Mr. Yeager." Lucy stood so that
she was the focus of his attention, leaving Burroughs to observe
from the periphery. Observe and watch her back. Something hinky
going on with Yeager, something she couldn't quite put her finger
on. Yet.

"Then why are you here? You should be out
looking for her."

She noticed he didn't use Ashley's name.
Didn't or couldn't? "We need to speak with you. May we come
in?"

"Is this about the lie detector test? I
already told you people, I'm her father, I love her. I shouldn't
have to prove it." His voice came out flat, allowing no
argument.

His body betrayed him. A band of sweat on
his upper lip, the way his gaze dropped to focus on the floor, a
shift in his weight as he shrank away from Lucy.

She decided to take a gamble. "Actually,
Gerald, I'm here about the camera. Your camera. The one I found in
Ashley's room."

Bingo. The transformation from outraged
parent to cowering liar took only two heartbeats. As if he'd been
waiting for this moment, waiting for his lies to catch up with him.
Shoulders drooping, Yeager walked away from them, leaving the door
open.

Lucy followed, Burroughs on her heels. The
detective still had his hand near his service piece, but she didn't
think he'd need it. The dangerous part was usually when you
confronted the denials, challenged the carefully constructed web of
lies, not after they already admitted defeat.

"I'm sorry about the pictures," Yeager said,
dropping down into a black leather recliner. The entire room was
done in black and chrome, a match to Melissa Yeager's kitchen. As
if their entire married life had been devoid of color. "But they
have nothing to do with Ashley—well, they do, but not the way you
mean."

Lucy slanted a look at Burroughs who merely
shrugged. She sat down on the leather sofa, her knee mere inches
away from Yeager's. "Why don't you start from the beginning."

"It wasn't my weekend, I wasn't supposed to
have her. I mean, I have a right to my own life, you know?"

"The weekend when Ashley ran away and came
here? What did she find, Gerald? Something that scared her?"

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, face
buried in his hands, muffling his words. "Yeah. Then she got
angry—said I didn't love her, that I never had."

When he didn't look up, she knew Ashley had
probably been right. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.
Her voice low, secretive. A keeper of confidences. "What did Ashley
see, Gerald?"

He blew out his breath. Then he looked up,
not meeting her gaze but looking past her, out the window,
searching for an escape. "A friend of mine. Mark. He's the one in
the pictures. I know he looks young, but he's really 23, we're two
consenting adults. I swear, I didn't even know Ashley stole the
camera until a week later when she called. She threatened to tell
her mother about Mark unless I let her come live with me."

"What did you say?"

"I'm not going to let my own kid blackmail
me." He sat up straight, looked her in the eye once more. "Should
have known, growing up in that house, with that woman, she'd never
learn any respect."

"So Ashley told her mother? About you and
Mark?"

"Her mother already knows. Why do you think
we split up? I told Ashley that, said I didn't care if her mother
saw the pictures. After that she stopped talking to me." He sighed
as if he were the injured party. "All I did for that kid, and she
cut me out of her life, just like that."

Right, it was all her fault.
"Mr.
Yeager, do you have a computer?"

"Of course I do."

"Good. One of my technicians will need to
take a look at it. Is there anything on there that might cause
problems?"

He shook his head. "No, just more photos of
Mark and me. Go ahead, you can look anywhere you want."

The phone rang and Yeager jumped. He looked
to Lucy for permission before answering it. She nodded her
assent.

"Hello?" Yeager's face creased into a scowl
of anger and worry. Lucy tensed—was it Ashley? A ransom demand?
"I'm on my way. Get the others back inside before any harm comes to
any specimens."

He slammed the phone down. "Someone stole my
specimens. I have to go."

"Mr. Yeager, we need you here. In case
Ashley calls."

He blinked. He'd forgotten about Ashley.
Lucy exchanged glances with Burroughs.

"But—"

Burroughs gave it a try. "Surely your
assistants can care for your—ah—specimens?"

Yeager slumped back in his seat.

"Were they poisonous?" Lucy asked, thinking
of the snake handlers. Maybe Pastor Walter's flock had tried to
replenish their serpent supply.

"Poisonous? No, of course not. They're
harmless. I'm not sure why anyone would want forty-two
Colubridae
. They're not exotic, not worth
anything."

"Probably just a prank," Burroughs reassured
him. "Kids playing."

A knock rattled the door. Taylor, right on
time with the warrants. The technician got busy with the computer
while Burroughs and Lucy searched the guest bedroom where Ashley
stayed. Nothing except some toiletries and a pair of baggy
pajamas.

"Mr. Yeager, now that we've discussed
everything, would you mind taking a polygraph?"

Yeager shrugged. "Sure, whatever."

"We'll also have someone stopping by to
monitor things. In case Ashley calls," she added.

It seemed best to have someone keep an eye
on the father. Now that she'd wrung all his secrets from him, she
doubted he had anything to do with Ashley's disappearance, but
she'd been wrong before. No sense taking any chances.

Once they were back in the elevator heading
down, Burroughs slouched against the wall.

They reached the lobby and headed out to the
car.

"Where to now, boss?" Burroughs asked as he
turned the ignition on.

"Back to Ashley's house." Lucy plopped down
into the passenger seat, feeling discouraged. "Think you can have
your precinct guys keep an eye on Yeager?"

"We call them zones here in Pittsburgh."

"Right. And someone needs to talk to
Yeager's boyfriend."

"The infamous Mark." The car had warmed up
considerably, basking in the eighty-five degree sunshine. He turned
on the AC and pulled out onto the street. "I'll do it myself if you
don't have something more constructive for me to do."

"I wish I had something more constructive
for
me
to do. I hate this part, the waiting part. But until
we crack her computer and finish tracking phone calls there's not a
whole lot more to do."

He turned a corner and they pulled up to a
Eat 'n Park. "Sure there is. We can have lunch, recharge."

She said nothing. Food was the farthest
thing from her mind and she doubted she would taste anything she
ate. Dammit, there had to be something more she could be doing.

No fourteen-year-old's life could be such a
dead end.

Burroughs didn't give her any choice,
getting out of the car and waiting for her to join him. He held a
small thermos.

"Refilling the coffee?"

"I wish. My testing gear and insulin. I
carry it in case my pump fails, but it needs to stay cold."

"Jeezit, Burroughs. You should have said
something, we could've stopped sooner."

"I'm good. Snuck a protein bar before we
left the house." He shrugged. "Got it down to a science. Go ahead
and grab us a booth and I'll be back in a jiff."

The restaurant was busy, but a wave of her
credentials got Lucy the next available table. While she perused
the menu and waited for Burroughs, she called Taylor and got an
update.

"Got the LUDs from mom's phone. The call
that woke her this morning came from Ashley's cell phone."

Lucy dropped the menu she was holding. Damn,
maybe Burroughs was right. Ashley
was
playing a
game—tormenting her mother for starters. "You're kidding. Got a
location?"

"Not yet. Since the call already
happened…"

"It will take time." She was all too
familiar with the routine. "Anything on dad's computer?"

"Some guy on guy stuff, nothing illegal. No
suspicious web browsing. I'll comb through his emails later, but I
want to get back to Ashley's unit."