The Botanist (8 page)

Stieger twisted his lips in dissatisfaction. That was one woman he’d have to track down.

Chapter 13

Cody retired a little after midnight. He was ready to drop. It had been an exhausting day and he knew tomorrow would be worse. He was following up on several leads at once, by far the most interesting of which was Alex Thompson’s.

He didn’t know what to make of her. She had a quiet confidence about her, a dignified form of self-possession that made him want to trust her.

As he got into his jeep, he dialed her number to go over some clarifying details that were overlooked during preliminary questioning. Not until the phone started ringing did he get his car started and glance at the digital clock, which read 12:18. He immediately tried to hang up, but before he managed it, she answered.

He cringed. “Alex, it’s Cody. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking about how late it is. Did I wake you?”

“Oh, detective. No, you didn’t wake me. I . . . haven’t gone to bed, yet.”

“Oh,” he was relieved. “Night owl, huh?”

He heard the measured hesitation before she answered. “Not exactly.”

He waited.

“Just . . . you know . . . strange place and all.”

He decided not to pursue it. “Well, will you be up for a while?”

Again, the hesitation, before her noncommittal, “Probably.”

“I have a few questions to ask you—just some clarifying points. Would it be possible for me to drop by your motel? Or would you like to meet me somewhere?”

She was quiet so long he thought perhaps the call had been dropped.

“Alex?”

“Yes, I’m still here. The truth is detective—and try not to be angry at me for this—”

“What?”

“I know I promised not to leave town . . .”

“You left town?”

“I just went on a drive. I took the main highway just to get some air, and I blew a tire.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine. But I’m kind of stranded. I have a spare but not a jack. I don’t suppose there’s any good roadside assistance to be had in Mt. Dessicate?”

“Well”—Cody was pulling out onto the highway—“there’s a towing company, but they’re not much good after six o’clock.”

“Why not?”

“Happy hour.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll come and get you. Just turn on your hazards and tell me where.”

After
hanging up her phone, Alex got back into her car, which she’d successfully navigated onto the dirt shoulder of the highway. Her forearms ached from gripping the wheel so hard when the tire blew. She wished she’d never left the motel.

She was half an hour from town, which meant it would be at least that long before Cody reached her. She pulled her mp3 player from the glove box. Her charm bracelet caught on the corner of the glove box door, and she reached over with her other hand to untangle it. She was never without that bracelet, and she knew it was only a matter of time before the clasp broke.

Making a mental note to look into having the bracelet cleaned and reset, Alex turned on her mp3. Jamming the buds into her ears, she got out of the car and walked around for a few minutes, letting her favorite country singer’s ballads sooth her. When she tired of that, she sat on the hood of the car, sliding back far enough to stretch her legs out in front of her and leaning against the windshield. She gazed toward town, willing the headlights of Cody’s car to appear, and tapping her foot to the rhythm of the music.

Nothing moved. There was no wind, no tumbleweeds, no nocturnal desert creatures. It was as though the scenery around her was a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree plastic panorama.

Alex didn’t know what alerted her to the presence of something other than herself in the still desert night. There were no lights, but perhaps it was a movement of air, or the sound of tires on gravel penetrating the ear buds. Either way, she twisted around to look behind her, yanking out her headphones.

A dingy, ancient-looking squad car pulled up directly behind her on the gravel shoulder. Her stomach did a summersault as she flashed back to that night four years ago when she’d been pulled over in this very spot.

There was no doubt in her mind this was the same squad car. Though she couldn’t have made the connection back then, she realized now how old a model the boxy, gaudy cop car was. The eighties probably wanted it back.

The driver’s side door opened, and the man that stepped out filled Alex with icy dread. It was the same man; there was no mistaking him.

Alarm bells clanged in her head, signaling danger, just like before. But what could she do? Run? Despite being very tall and stocky—he could probably hold her down with his little finger—he didn’t look particularly athletic. She was sure she could outrun him. The problem was he had a car, and she couldn’t drive on her rim.

Jumping off the hood of her car, she planted her feet to face him. It made her feel more in control. As he sauntered toward her, taller than she remembered and exuding just as much menace as he’d shown four years ago, every ounce of that control slipped through her fingers like oil.

He kept walking until he was only a few inches from her, and she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. She refused to back up. They stared at one another for several seconds before he spoke. “Havin some car trouble, are ya?”

She jumped. His voice was still a raspy whisper.

Alex swallowed and willed her voice to be steady. “Yes, officer. I blew a tire.”

His eyes went casually toward the shredded left front tire of her car, then returned to her.

“Waitin’ for prince charming to drive along and rescue you?” He had a slight lisp when he said his
s
-sounds, but he was trying so hard to cover it, they came out more like a hiss.

“I’ve already called somebody. He’s on his way.” She emphasized the “he” part, hoping that knowing another man would soon be here would intimidate him somewhat.

He laughed softly—the same, sinister sound she remembered from before—and Alex had the sneaking hunch he wasn’t intimidated in the least.

“Well.” He stepped toward her, and now they were toe to toe. “Maybe I can keep you company. Until he gets here.”

Alex did step back now. Not only was he way too close for comfort, but his breath was horribly foul. She started to put a hand to her nose to block his stench, then realized that might offend him. She covered by running her hand through her hair.

“That won’t be necessary. I’m sure he’ll be here any min—”

The massive cop grabbed her wrist and yanked it toward him. She yelped before she could stop herself, wondering what on earth he was looking at. It took a moment for her to realize he was staring at her bracelet.

Then she remembered. That night he’d first pulled her over, he had remarked on the bracelet, asked where she’d gotten it. Now he was looking at it again.

He studied the silver charms for several seconds, then a light dawned in his eyes. They shifted to her and she shivered violently.

He remembered her.

Breathing raggedly, she yanked her arm away from him. He didn’t try to keep it, but his eyes had taken on a predatory glow.

“Cordelia?” he hissed, stepping toward her.

She stepped backward, but he followed her, step for step. They were locked in a deadly, linear waltz now, and she knew she had to run.

She understood then. The thought pealed more clearly in her head than any she’d had in her life: this man was going to kill her.

She didn’t know if she could get away. He could get in his car and run her down easily. She still couldn’t see headlights in the darkness, but the highway wasn’t a straight line. It twisted and turned around hills and rises on its way south. Cody should be coming around that far bend any minute now. Perhaps, if she could stay near the road, she could run out and get his attention when he got near.

Knowing she should have done it five minutes ago, Alex spun on her toe and leapt away.

Even as she began her first sprint, strong fingers dug into her scalp. She screamed as he yanked her backward by her hair and slammed her head into her own car window.

Chapter 14

Cody had to take three different detours to get out of the city. With all the extra people, large sections of town had been blocked off. Consequently, it was nearly thirty minutes before two flashing hazard lights came into view in the distance.

As he came level with Alex’s car, he couldn’t see her, but he figured she was lying down in the back seat. It was nearly one a.m. after all. He parked on the other side of the road.

“Alex, I’m here,” he called, getting out of the car. He got into the back of his jeep and rummaged around until he found a flashlight, a tire iron, and a jack. He crossed the deserted highway, wondering if she had headphones on, or was just a deep sleeper, and noticed the driver’s side window for the first time.

The glass was thick and tempered, not easy to break, but a fist-sized, circular crack was in it. Spider web splinters spiraled into its center and grew out of the crack, and a dark substance dripped from it.

Suddenly wary, Cody stepped up to the car and ran his light over the front and back seats. Alex wasn’t in there.

Knowing he ought to be wearing gloves, but not caring at this particular moment, he touched the dark substance and brought his finger up to study it in the concentrated beam of the flashlight. It was red—the bright, arterial kind.

Blood.

Whirling around, Cody brought his flashlight up to his shoulder, turning in complete circles.

“Alex. Alex!”

When he stood on the staggered stripes of paint that divided the two-lane highway, he dropped into a crouch, looking under her car. Nothing. He circled the perimeter where she was parked, letting his light play over the uneven desert just off the highway, casting tall shadows behind the dirt mounds, peppermint bushes, and sagebrush.

“Alex!”

What could have happened to her? The desert held plenty of predators, but none that would have wandered into the yellow, blinking lights of her car, slammed her into the window, and then dragged her away. Cody’s heart pounded. Where was she?

His light hit something tall and dark off to the side and he did a double take. It was the historic monument she mentioned in her report. Cody’s hands went cold. This was almost the exact spot she claimed she’d been pulled over four years ago. He looked over at the blood on the window, then at the monument.

It loomed, twelve feet tall, dark, and ominous, about a hundred yards from where Alex’s car was parked, the kind of historic monument that had to be protected, even though no one could remember what it commemorated. Cody thought it might have something to do with where the town had originally been established. No one he knew could say for sure.

He was only ten feet from where he had parked, but he’d already been completely swallowed by the darkness. The beam of his flashlight was his only salvation. He kept it on the ground, looking for anything that might trip him up as he made his way to the monument. He knew he’d have to leave the paved road and that meant treacherous footwork.

As he moved onto the shoulder, he noticed a track from a large tire with a wide tread. It transected the highway—a strange way to drive. Cody played his light over the road and found small, crushed dirt clods that had probably come off the same tire that made the tread. Following the trail with his light, he realized this vehicle had been parked directly behind Alex.

Whirling back to the shoulder, Cody followed the track with his flashlight. It led into the desert. Feeling a sudden, desperate urgency, he ran back to his jeep. After slamming the door, he belted himself in, grabbed his radio, and blessed the car gods that had invented four-wheel drive.

Turning on the spotlight that was situated just outside his window, Cody spurred the jeep onto the rocky, virgin terrain.

“Dispatch. Dispatch, this is Detective Oliver. Respond.”

The radio crackled for a few seconds before a voice came through.

“You’re supposed to use your identification number, Cody.”

“Shut up, Dave, and listen. I need back up.”

At least five seconds passed before a response came, and Cody could just see the nighttime dispatch officer scratching his head.

“What’s wrong, Cody?”

“I think we have a 207a in progress.”

“A 207a? Of who?” Dave’s voice was incredulous.

“Alex Thompson. She had a lead in the Shakespeare case. Her car is parked on Route 24 with the hazards on, just past mile marker forty-one. You know that old historical monument?”

“Is that old thing still standing?”

“Yes! Send people out that way. Her car is parked facing south. Tell them to turn west when they get there and head into the desert.”

“Now wait a second, Cody. I can’t just wake people up and tell them to go for some midnight off-roading.”

“Dave, this is serious! There’s blood on her car and tire tracks that lead into the desert. Get me some back up. Make sure they come in vehicles equipped with four-wheel drive, got it?”

Another short pause.

“They’re on their way. Be careful, Cody.”

Cody followed the track for more than fifteen minutes, keeping his spotlight trained on it so he could carefully imitate its twists and turns. The view of the terrain from the road was deceptive. It looked like there was only a few hundred yards of ground flat enough to drive on, even with off-road capabilities. After that, steep rises became tall plateaus and mountains.

In actuality, the ground rolled so much that he kept dipping down steeply enough that he no longer had a view of Alex’s parked car. Then he would crest the next rise and see it again in his rear-view mirror. There were hundreds of places to hide in the shadows out here, and he couldn’t have been more than a quarter mile from the road.

The thick tread was heading for a mountain that loomed straight ahead, blacking out the stars. It seemed as though the vehicle had driven in a straight line to the base of the mountain, but Cody’s headlights were bouncing off that base now and there was no one in sight. The driver must have driven to the base of the rise, then turned and driven along the length of it for a while. Cody would have to follow the tread all the way in to determine which direction it would go.

Something moved in the corner of his eye, coming from the right. His head snapped in that direction, but neither his headlights nor his spotlight were pointed there, so he couldn’t see much of anything.

Then, without warning, his headlights illuminated a figure. The bright color of the person’s clothing, made neon by the concentrated light, was a shocking contrast to the muted tones of the desert. Cody recognized Alex right away and, sucking in his breath, slammed his foot down hard on the brake pedal, but it was no use. She’d run so suddenly into his path that, at the speed he was going, he couldn’t stop in time.

Alex’s legs thumped sickeningly against the jeep’s grate. Her body popped upward like a Tiddlywink, rolling over the hood and halfway up the windshield before sliding up over Cody’s side mirror and careening across the driver’s side window. Cody’s window was still rolled down, and he had a reflex to grab her, but it came too late and he missed completely. She landed with a hollow thud.

The jeep came to a stop with such a wrenching jerk that Cody hit his chin on the steering wheel. Cursing, he leapt from the car to find Alex.

She’d landed ten feet from the jeep. Even as he jumped out and ran to her, she was trying to get up. He immediately pushed her back down.

“Alex, don’t move. What’re you doing? You need to lie still.”

She was breathing hard, almost gasping, and her eyes were wild.

“We have to go! He’s coming!”

“Who is?”

“
He
is. He’s gonna . . . he’s trying to . . .”

“Alex, lie still. I hit you going really fast. You might have a neck injury.” Despite the calmness in his voice, which he’d been trained as a cop to put there, no matter how he really felt, Cody reached down and quickly un-holstered his gun. “There’s help on the way, but I need to call them and tell them to bring an ambulance. Lie down—”

“No! We have to go. If he finds us—”

“Who?”

“It’s him! The guy that took me . . . the same guy from before. He’s gonna kill me. We have to go!”

“Stop shouting!” It came out more harshly than he’d intended, but her panic was infecting him. He took a deep breath and rested his hand on the joint between her neck and shoulder, pressing down gently to keep her shoulder blades on the ground. It was only then that he realized she was trembling violently and her behavior was probably a result of adrenaline. She was terrified. From what he’d seen, this woman was calm and deliberate, with very little drama. Now she was on the verge of hysterics.

“We . . . have . . . to . . . go. He’ll come back.” Her voice shook and her eyes shifted every which way; she looked like a cornered animal.

He leaned over her. “Alex, look at me.” He waited until her eyes locked on his. “If he comes back, I will kill him.”

She froze, staring up at him with tears in her eyes.

He held his gun up so she could see it. “Okay?”

After a moment, she nodded, and all the tension drained out of her like unstopped water. She slumped back onto the ground and lay there shivering.

“I have a first-aid kit in my car with a space blanket. I’m going to get it for you.”

He stood and went to the jeep. After grabbing the kit, he took the opportunity to play the spotlight over the mountain, running it along every crevice and nook in the terrain. Only shadows and sagebrush revealed themselves, and there was no sound at all.

A soft crunch of gravel made him swing the light to one side, but it revealed only a loping jack rabbit that turned its back to him, stuck its tail in the air, and kept going.

Cody radioed in his position, told Dave to send an ambulance, and then went and wrapped Alex in the space blanket.

He sat by her, gun cocked, listening for any void in the silence, and prayed that her injuries weren’t serious.