The Botanist (16 page)

Sitting
in his office, Captain Brecken rubbed the bridge of his nose while pressing the receiver to his ear. The shock of the revelation the caller had made had worn off, but a dull ache brewed behind the captain’s eyes.

“And they’re certain?” he asked.

He barely registered what the tinny voice talking in his ear answered, except that it was an affirmative. He supposed the question had been mostly rhetorical anyway. Minutes later, he put down the phone. This case was becoming more complicated by the hour, and that worried the captain. A lot. Mt. Dessicate didn’t see many things like this, and he wasn’t sure they were equipped to deal with it.

He sighed as he walked into the room where his four lead detectives’ desks faced one another. They were all working overtime on this case, which meant they went home for dinner, but then came back for a few more hours. Cody, the only one not married, barely bothered to go home at all, which was why the captain was surprised that he wasn’t at his desk. Of course the one he needed to talk to wasn’t there.

“Tom, where’s your partner?”

“Dunno, captain. I haven’t seen Cody all afternoon. Assume he’s out chasing a lead.”

“Ope!” Out of the corner of his eye, the Captain saw Frank slap his palm to his forehead. From Frank, that was admission of guilt.

“Frank?”

“Sorry, captain. He’s at the safe house with Alex.”

“Why?”

“The uniform assigned to her had to leave—called back to duty by his captain in Gunnison. I was supposed to send a replacement hours ago, but I got busy with this and totally forgot.”

The captain sighed. It wasn’t really Frank’s fault. A criminalist by the name of Tandy was being sent out to deal with the journal Cody and his PI friend had found. The captain didn’t have the time or inclination to deal with all the red tape, so he’d made Frank his liaison until Tandy arrived. Frank had been on the phone making travel arrangements and giving instructions, directions, and information to half a hundred people all afternoon. No wonder he’d forgotten something as mundane as a spare unie.

“Find a replacement now, Frank, and I mean
now.
If you can’t get one over there in less than fifteen minutes, one of you go. Cody has other business.”

All three detectives stopped what they were doing to stare at him.

“What’s going on, Captain?” Tom asked.

“I just got a call from the Point of the Mountain. Jagar Resputa wants to see Cody. Says he has some information about our case.”

“And you believe him?”

The captain glared at Court.

“Uh, I mean, should we believe him, sir? He’s just trying to waste our time—torment Cody some more.”

The captain sighed again. He was doing that a lot today. “Just before the prison called, I got another call, from one of the search teams. Twenty minutes ago, they found another mass grave.”

The silence was so uncomfortable, it was prickly; the detectives squirmed in their seats.

“Is it one through eleven?” Tom asked.

“No,” the captain said. “It’s thirty-six through forty-eight.”

Court gasped; Frank’s mouth dropped open; Tom shut his eyes, expression pained. The gravity of the situation settled on each of them. The captain saw it. He felt what they felt as well. Unless the killer had numbered his plots randomly, there were nearly fifty victims here. And who knew how many more?

“I don’t want to deal with Resputa anymore than you do, and I’m certain Cody won’t either. But we can’t afford to not hear what he has to say if it means information on this case.”

“But how would Resputa know anything about our guy, Cap?” Frank asked.

“Resputa was caught in the same general area. Criminals often know of one another’s work.”

“I think he’s just seen
Silence of the Lambs
too many times,” Frank grumbled. His face shifted with renewed attention as the person he’d been dialing picked up. “Hello, yes. I need a uniform . . .”

“Why tonight, Cap?” Tom asked quietly. “Can’t this wait for tomorrow?”

“Resputa’s holding our time hostage. He wants Cody there before midnight. At midnight, his offer of information expires, and he won’t give it to us for any price.”

“You know he’ll try to negotiate a deal.”

“Cody won’t be authorized to give him any deals, unless it’s to convince the warden to supply Resputa with an extra roll of toilet paper each week.”

Tom smiled but without humor.

“Resputa came to us with this, Tom. He knows no one’s going to cut him any deals. That alone makes me wary. I know we’re busy here, but I think it’s dangerous not to know what he’s up to.”

Tom nodded. “I’ll call Cody.”

Chapter 27

Alex squealed with delight when her hand beat Cody’s for the fifth straight time. Cody laughed. She thought his smile was beautiful.

“You are
way
too good at this, Alex. Who taught you to play poker?”

“Ex-boyfriend. It’s how he made his living.”

“And you conveniently forgot to mention that?”

“Don’t worry. I’d never take your money. Just your candy.” She unwrapped a tootsie roll and popped it in her mouth. They’d found a stash of mixed candy in the pantry, divided it evenly, and used it to bet with.

“Maybe we should switch games.” Cody feigned worry with his eyebrows, though he was grinning broadly.

“Hmm,” she said, with mock seriousness. “Well there are the classics: Go Fish? Old Maid?
Memory?”

Cody shook with quiet laughter but before he could answer, his cell phone buzzed.

“Maybe Frank finally got you a replacement.” Alex tried to sound more chipper than she felt at the prospect.

Cody answered his phone. “Hey Tom, you guys finally remember—”

His face froze, then slowly fell.

The area around Alex’s heart turned chill. Something was wrong.

Cody got to his feet and walked to the window, turning his back on her. Not wanting to look as though she was trying to eavesdrop, Alex picked up their soda cups and took them into the kitchen, but she could still hear his voice.

“Now? Tonight . . . are you sure?”

Alex turned on the faucet and rinsed the cups before placing them in the dishwasher. Before she finished, Cody came into the kitchen, looking more serious than he had all evening.

“Everything all right?”

He frowned. “I have to go talk to someone. Tom’s gonna come stay with you.”

Alex studied Cody. He was obviously distraught. She was curious, but she also knew that police business was none of hers. If she asked, he would be well within his rights to tell her to butt out.

“A lead in the case?” She clapped her hands together in mock joy. “Is it solved?”

He didn’t laugh as she’d hoped, but smiled a bit. “No. It’s a guy in the state pen. Says he might have some information for us. Captain wants me to go talk to him.”

“Any reason it has to be you in particular?”

“Yeah. He asked for me.”

Alex frowned. Someone
in
the state penitentiary asked for a particular detective? “Why?”

“He sort of knows me.”

“Did you help put him away or something?”

Cody stared at her levelly for a few seconds. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

After that, Cody clammed up, and the silence got awkward. Twenty minutes later, Tom’s unmarked car pulled into the driveway beside Cody’s.

“See you tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder as he headed out the door. He and Tom conversed in the driveway briefly before Cody got into his car, and Alex tried to read their expressions. Tom looked . . . was that sympathy? The lines around Cody’s eyes tightened as they spoke, and his lips pressed into a thin line. Then, looking supremely annoyed, he drove away.

Tom moseyed into the room. “Ms. Thompson.” He grinned at her.

“Alex, remember? So you stuck here all night with me?”

“Maybe. For a few hours, at least. Frank’s trying to track down a uniform, but it’s getting late and most of them have gone home. He may not be able to find one to assign to you until morning. We’ll see. But no worries. I called my wife. She’s cool with it.” He grinned again, and Alex returned it.

“She’s cool with you not coming home all night?”

“Told her I was protecting a beautiful woman half her age.”

“Tom! You should be nice to your wife.”

“Why?”

He was teasing her and she knew it, but she couldn’t help but return the banter. “Because she cooks your dinner.”

Tom laughed. “You have a point there.”

“Speaking of”—Alex glanced toward the kitchen—“have you eaten tonight?”

“Actually yes, but”—he followed her gaze—“whatcha got back there?”

Alex was glad he’d asked. In her experience, food often loosened a man’s tongue. “I’ll make you something.”

When he was digging into a plate of microwave pasta, she sat across from him and asked, “So, am I allowed to ask what’s going on, or not?”

“Going on with what?”

“Cody. Where’d he go?”

Tom studied his uneaten pasta for a full minute before answering.

“If it’s police business, you don’t have to tell me, Tom. I’m just wondering.” She secretly hoped he’d tell her anyway.

Tom shook his head, and she was sure he’d refuse to say anything. “It’s not police business. It’s a closed case, so it’s not illegal for me to tell you about it. It’s just that it’s something I think Cody should tell you about.” Tom heaved a great sigh. “But then I suppose he won’t do that. It’s not something he cares to talk about much.”

Alex leaned forward and rested her chin on her fists.

“All right. A few years ago, we had a really awful case. Actually, it was a federal case, made the news, so you might remember it. A pedophile went on a rampage. Guy by the name of Resputa started in Washington. He was driving south through all the states, snatching kids as he went.”

Alex swallowed. “And doing what to them?”

“All kinds of things. Molesting, assaulting, terrorizing.”

“But not killing them?”

“Not according to him. Most of them were picked up at truck stops, rest stops, or gas stations along the highway, exploited, then dropped off a few hundred miles away. We had to double our highway patrol presence because kids were being found wandering on random, desolate stretches of highway.”

“How awful. But you said most, not all?”

“Seven children who were snatched from similar locations while this was going on were not dropped off anywhere or ever found alive. The bodies of three of the seven were found sometime after we caught Resputa, and they were all buried not far off the highway. They’d been sexually exploited, in some cases tortured, and then killed.”

“And you think he’s the one that took them, too?”

“Yes. I’m sure he did. Just couldn’t ever prove it. He left no DNA on them.”

“Did he on the others? The ones he let live?”

“No, but they all identified him.”

“Why would he do that? Let some live that could I.D. him?”

Tom sighed. “I don’t know, Alex. Resputa is a sick, twisted man. Once we caught him, we all interviewed him numerous times. We couldn’t get an answer as to his motives that made any kind of sense. He’s a criminal. Only he knows why he does what he does.”

“So what’s this all got to do with Cody?”

“The entire country was on alert, but Resputa’s pattern was headed due south. Once he realized he had the FBI’s attention, he made a break for the Mexican border. Figured he could lose us there, and he probably would have. He just had to keep to the back roads.” Tom waved his arms about to indicate everything that was around him. “Enter the great metropolis of Mt. Dessicate.

“This was two years ago. Cody had only been a detective for a few months. One day an elderly rancher that Cody had known for years—friend of his uncle’s, I think—called Cody to say that he thought someone was squatting in his barn. The rancher was too old to be chasing trespassers off his property anymore. Because they were friends, Cody offered to just go over himself and have a look around, rather than dispatching a uniform. I think he expected to find some teenagers screwing around in there or something.”

“Was it Resputa?”

“Yeah. He had four kids with him. Cody announced himself as a cop before he realized it was Resputa. He just thought he could scare the trespassers off. Resputa attacked him. He’s the one who gave Cody the scar across his face.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Sliced at him with some kind of scythe he found in the barn. Cody was lucky to keep his eye. He got hurt pretty bad otherwise, too—broken ribs, punctured kidney. Despite all that, he managed to cuff Resputa to one of the barn columns; kept him there until backup arrived. I think the thing that really messed with his head were the kids.”

Alex inhaled sharply. “They weren’t dead were they?”

“No, but they were a mess. Not all of them were clothed. When he tried to help them, they all started screaming. After what they’d endured at Resputa’s hands, they were afraid of men. Hell, most of them were probably afraid of their own fathers after that. Terrible situation.”

Tom rubbed his eyes, and Alex felt guilty for making him recount a painful experience.

“I don’t think Cody was ever the same after that. A case like that makes you grow up real fast, and not in a good way.” He paused, lost in memory.

“So,” Alex prodded, “is this Resputa guy the one who called from the state pen today?”

“Yeah. He claims to have information on the Shakespeare case. He said if Cody didn’t come talk to him tonight, he wouldn’t tell us.”

“How would he know anything about it?”

“I don’t know. He was driving around the desert down here for a while, hiding out, before we caught him. Maybe he stumbled on something . . . but I doubt it. I think he’s yanking Cody’s chain. He’s always trying to get Cody to come down and talk to him.”

“What do you mean? About what?”

“Over the last two years, he’s tried to lure Cody out to talk to him a handful of times. Cody went the first time, thinking maybe Resputa was ready to confess to something—the murder of those seven children, perhaps? It only took one trip to realize that Resputa just enjoyed toying with him, messing with his head. After that, Cody didn’t go again. Until now.”

“But why target Cody specifically? Cody stumbled on him accidentally. It wasn’t like he was really invested in the case or anything. What’s Resputa got against him?”

Tom shrugged. “We’ve all been trying to figure that out for two years, Alex. Maybe it was because Cody was the one who tangibly beat him. Maybe because they tussled. He nearly killed Cody, but then Cody won. Maybe he thinks they bonded over it. I don’t know. This is a pedophile and probably a child-killer.”

Tom leaned forward. “You need to understand something, Alex. Cody is . . . a good person. He’s an exceptional human being, and an even better cop. Maybe this is my wife’s book club coming out in me, but there’s something epic about the kind of goodness in Cody meeting the kind of evil in Resputa. I think Resputa saw Cody and knew him for what he was: a good man that refused to be beaten by a lowlife pedophile. I think Resputa can’t help himself. He has to try to torment Cody. He hasn’t given up yet. Nor will he ever.”

“But he won’t ever get out of prison, right? He torments because it’s his only pastime?”

“Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way.”

“What? But after all those kids . . . ?”

“We couldn’t get him on the murders. Sex offense laws are always evolving but they aren’t as strong as most of us would like them to be. Resputa cut a deal of sorts. He agreed to plead guilty to assaulting all the kids that I.D.’d him in exchange for the prosecutors not seeking the death penalty. It was agreed. The idea was that he would get life, but he has good lawyers. As of right now, he’s serving a sentence of fifteen to life, and his lawyers are appealing even that.”

“So he
could
serve life.”

“Or he could serve fifteen. He won’t get out any time soon, but there’s a very good chance he could get out someday. When he does, he’ll be just as dangerous as when he went in. Probably more so.”

Alex shivered. No wonder Cody’s mood had turned dark so quickly. She found herself worrying about him, having to go speak to that monster. She wouldn’t want to do it.

Her shudder didn’t go unnoticed. Tom smiled sadly. “Sorry, Alex. I suppose I’ve said too much.”

Alex shook her head. “No. Don’t be. I asked. I wanted to know. It’s just a lot to deal with. You and the other detectives are all so happy and . . . goofy, for lack of a better word. How do you do it? How do you deal with all this and still smile?”

Tom leaned back in his chair, looking more relaxed. “We do the best we can. We try not to obsess about our jobs. We work hard, chase the bad guys ‘til they’re caught, then go home at night. We try to find joy in our families, our friends, the smaller parts of our lives. We have to find it, really. If all you see is sadness in everything, the world becomes an overwhelming place pretty quickly. So we keep moving forward, and know that every scum bag we get off the street is a small mercy.

“Like you said, Resputa might serve life. If he does, we’ve saved a lot of families a lot of pain. If he doesn’t, at least we got him off the streets for a while, and we’ve established a history that will convict him faster and for longer next time. Optimism, Alex. Optimism is the only way to go through life.”

He grinned his floppy grin and Alex smiled back. Cody wasn’t pessimistic, but he was more serious than Tom. She could see why they would work well together as partners. Tom’s experience and positivity countered Cody’s caution and seriousness.

Alex yawned. “I suppose I should turn in. The doctors say I should be sleeping twelve hours a night for the next week.”

Tom looked at his watch with concern. “Better hurry, then. It’s getting late already.”

Alex laughed. “Well then you’ll just have to do your own dishes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Will there be a uniform here when I wake up in the morning?”

He shrugged. “Possibly. You’d better hope so. I’m not as charming in the morning as I am in the evening.”

“I think that’s true of most of us, Tom. Thank you. Thank you for coming to stay with me, and for telling me about Cody.”

“Sure. Sleep tight.”