Time of Death (36 page)

“We’re taking it slow. The house is under close observation, so she’s not going anywhere.”

“How do you know she’s in there?”

“Neighbor saw her go in before the snow started and not come out. Like those sticky cockroach traps. We got her on thermal imaging. SWAT likes to know how many people are in a house before entering, anyway. She’s in there, all right.”

PJ’s first experience with thermal imaging hadn’t been much fun for her, except in retrospect. Schultz had brought in infrared goggles attached to a helmet, and said he could see through her clothing like X-ray vision. She kicked him out of the office. Later she found out from Anita that the thermal image included clothing and the only way he’d be seeing skin is if PJ was naked in the first place. Even then, the image was not detailed.

“You’re saying it might be awhile until April is taken into custody,” PJ said.

“Could be quite a while. I think the neighbor’s houses are slowly being evacuated. Don’t want any possibility of her running into one of them and starting a hostage situation. Excuse me, Doctor,” Howard turned away to talk to someone.

Excuse me, Doctor, I have something important to do.
She made a face at his back.
Oh, get a grip. Let the police do what they’re trained to do.
Suddenly ashamed of her pettiness, PJ’s cheeks were flushed with warmth in spite of the snow.

Turning away from her distracted boss, PJ thought that May, June, and Jasmine should be warned to stay wherever they were until April was in custody. Not that she could say so in those exact words. She was sure Schultz wouldn’t want news of this operation leaked out before an official arrest was made. Even then, it would probably be up to the prosecuting attorney to decide when and how much the women would hear of April’s story.

Don’t contaminate the witnesses or the process.

She headed back to her car, to sit in the relative warmth and make the phone calls. Roaming around, she couldn’t find her car. Officer Daniels had parked it somewhere, and she didn’t know where the officer was either. Ready to stomp her feet in frustration, she spotted Anita and hurried over to her.

“Any idea where my car is parked?”

“Not yours specifically, but there are several over there,” she said, pointing to several cars lined up along the street outside the blockade formed by the cruiser.

“Thanks. Call me when I can get in the house, will you? I want to study any setups April has, like photos or items collected from her victims.”

“Will do. Stay warm until then, Boss,” Anita said. “Great work on this case, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Anita had already turned to go. The wind swept PJ’s response away.

She found her car by remembering that the license plate number had double-oh-seven, James Bond, in it. For cars of the approximate size and shape of hers, she wiped off the license plates with her fingers. Only when she was standing next to the Focus did she remember that she’d left her keys inside for Officer Daniels to use.

Shit! What now?

PJ cleared some snow from the driver’s window, cupped her hands, and peered inside. The key was still there. She searched for the door handle under the snow, found it, and opened the door. Using the scraper thoughtfully put in the car by the rental company, she cleared a little of the front window so she could see what was going on outside. Then she got in and savored the feeling of being out of the wind. Snow covered all the windows and was already beginning to cover the area she’d cleared directly in front of the steering wheel.

Feels like being in an igloo.

PJ took out her cellphone, and then paused to get her thoughts together and plan something to say.

Something cold pressed against her right temple. She reached up instinctively to push it away, and her hand came into contact with the barrel of a gun.

“Hands in your lap, Dr. Gray.” It was a woman’s voice.

Fear stabbed PJ’s chest like an icicle. Although she’d never heard the voice before, there was no doubt in her mind that it belonged to April.

To the woman whose murders, counted and uncounted, probably exceeded the number of fingers on both her hands.

PJ’s hands dropped into her lap like stones into a pond. “Hello, April. I was wondering when I’d get to meet you.” She kept her voice as noncommittal as she could. One wrong word and her brain was likely to be decorating the window of her rental car.

The rental car company will charge extra to clean that up.

PJ squeezed the shakiness out of her voice and tried to wrap some discipline around her thoughts. The barrel of the gun made a cold circle where it was pressed against her head.

A cold kiss. A last, cold kiss.

She wasn’t dead yet, so April must want something from her or have something to tell her.
Or something to do to me. Don’t think that.

Unbidden and unwelcome, images of Old Hank’s barn streamed through her head. Flies in the middle of winter. Blood soaked into the grain of the old workbench. Shriveled pieces impaled on nails.

Stop!

“What do you want from me?” PJ said.

“First, toss that cellphone into the back seat.”

PJ didn’t want to let go of it. It seemed like a lifeline to the world of sanity and safety. But she lobbed the phone over her shoulder and heard it land on the seat.

“Now,” April said, “I want you to drive out of this area. Act like nothing is wrong. Honk the horn and it’s the last thing you’ll do.”

Snow covered the front window like a grave blanket. “I’m going to have to clear the window,” she said. “I can’t see to drive.”

PJ shifted toward the door, one hand on the handle. There was a sound near her ear that could only be the pistol’s hammer being cocked. She put her hand back in her lap.

“Use your windshield wipers. I don’t want that front window too clean, anyway. It’s more private like this, don’t you think?”

PJ switched on the windshield wipers. The wiper on the driver’s side, which had less snow to clear, did a fair job. The one on the passenger’s side tunneled under several inches of snow and dislodged some of it.

“Pull forward and make a right turn onto Morganford. I’m taking the gun away, but remember, Dr. Gray, bullets can go right through this car’s seat and out through your chest.”

The gun’s hammer dropped harmlessly, and April withdrew into the back seat, crouching down. PJ breathed for the first time since she’d put her hand on the door handle to get out.

She started the car. The heater came on full blast and startled her. She adjusted it lower and turned on the headlights. The snow in the beams of her headlights blew almost horizontally, lashed by the wind.

PJ gasped when a gloved hand thudded on her window and a flashlight followed.

“That you, Dr. Gray? Didn’t mean to startle you.”

PJ sat still. She couldn’t open her mouth or the scream inside would get out.

A whisper came from the back seat. “Answer.”

“Dr. Gray?” The person outside made a gesture with her hand: Roll down the window.

PJ opened the window a couple of inches. “Oh, it’s you, Officer Daniels.”

“Yes, ma’am. I saw your headlights come on and thought I’d check to see that everything was okay. Wouldn’t look good to have a car stolen from the crime scene with all these law enforcement personnel around.”

PJ tried to force herself to laugh, but it came out as a choking sound. She patted her throat. “Catching a cold, I think.”

“This is the weather for it. Good night, ma’am. Drive safely.”

PJ closed the window, wondering why the officer couldn’t see the fear she was certain was shining from her eyes like beacons.

“Excellent,” came the voice from the back seat. “Let’s get moving.”

PJ drove in silence as April called out directions. There was almost no traffic on the street and the plows weren’t out yet. The Focus clung to the road, traveling through twin ruts in the snow.

“So who’s that back there in your house?” PJ asked. She felt she’d better start talking, engaging, charming, whatever it took.

“A prostitute,” April said. “Can’t draw in the Johns with bruises all over her body from her last beating, so she’s taking time off. A hundred bucks, and all she had to do for it was sit around in my living room and watch TV. She’ll be lucky if some trigger-happy cop doesn’t blow her head off. Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“Turn off the radio, will you? The voices are distracting me.

PJ reached over and turned the knob, even though the radio was already off.

“How much did Jasmine tell you? I was never able to get a bug into that office of hers,” April said.

PJ hesitated. The less she revealed, the better.

“She told me that you had some problems living at home and went to her country home for awhile.”

“That’s it? No lies about paranoia, bad temper, seeing things?”

“No. I don’t think Jasmine wanted to talk about you. I was the one who went there and pressed her for information.”

“How did you find out about me?”

“June told me there were rumors of an older sister. I was curious.”

I’ve got to be the one asking the questions, drawing her out.

PJ wondered if this was to be the last hour of her life. That made her think about Arlan, the stand-in for the man who’d raped both April and her mother. What had he endured in his last hours? She would have to be strong.

Fortunately, I am a cool-headed woman of science.

When the car passed under a streetlight, PJ glanced up to the rearview mirror. She caught a glimpse of April. Thin, almost gaunt. Red hair unkempt, gone too many days without a shampoo. Eyes constantly on the move. Lips pressed together into a line that sliced across her face like the stroke of a knife. She seemed to be listening to something, almost certainly was: the odd chattering of a schizophrenic mind.

Things might have been different if April had gotten early treatment. A better life for her, and people might not have died.

PJ tried to picture the face in the mirror as the teenager in the swimsuit in Mexico, holding a beach ball. At that time, April’s schizophrenia hadn’t stepped into her life like an elephant tearing up a garden.

With the rape, her life hadn’t been a garden anyway.

It was time to test the waters. “Why are you so angry with your sisters, April?”

A stream of profanity flowed from the back seat. PJ waited it out, wondering if she’d get any answer other than that.

“I have to get them before they get me. Now that I’m out, see. Destroy them so completely they can’t come after me and put me back there. I can’t understand why the fucking police couldn’t get it right. May killed those men. I watched her plan it and watched her do it.”

“You mean May’s husband and June’s husband?”

“She shot her husband through a pillow. Feathers floated down and stuck in his blood. She’s guilty. The little bitch was always guilty of something. She hid cookies from me.”

“What about Arlan? Did she kill Arlan, too?”

“The goddamned knife was in her house! May had to punish Arlan. He did something really bad. But she murdered him and she should be in jail for the rest of her life. Locked up. They put me in handcuffs. Now it’s her turn. Turn left at the next corner.”

She’s going to kill me for sure. She’s giving away so much because she already knows I’m not going to tell anyone.

April continued talking, raging against May for a variety of offenses. A new image in PJ’s mind drowned out the words from the back seat—tucking Thomas into a body bag instead of his bed, and zipping it up over his bloodied face.

Despair blackened the edges of PJ’s vision. It was all she could do to keep her hands on the steering wheel. She wanted to reach back and yank the gun away from April.

I have nothing left to lose. When I get a chance, I have to take it.

“June was only a baby when you left St. Louis. What about her?”

“She got my life. May got my life, too. They both have to pay.” April laughed, a sound that froze PJ’s blood. “Auntie Jasmine’s already paid. Didn’t I ask you to turn off that damn radio?”

“Sorry. I’ll take care of it now.” PJ turned the silent radio off again.

“That’s better. Right turn here. I could never forgive them for not helping me when I was locked up. You’re supposed to love your sister.”

Helping you? You were dead to them.

“April, did you know that your parents and Auntie Jasmine told everyone you were dead? They had a funeral for you and everything. May and June didn’t know you were alive and being held against your will.”

April’s shrill voice was abruptly cut off. She didn’t know, couldn’t have known because all information that reached her was undoubtedly filtered. Jasmine was responsible for that, and it seemed like Jasmine was already dead.

The first of how many today?

“That’s a lie. I’m not dead, I’m right here. They abandoned me.”

PJ wasn’t going to break through April’s delusions. If it were even possible, it would take a lot more therapy than PJ had time for. They had just arrived at May’s home.

The snow had let up as rapidly as it had started. Walking to the door, PJ noticed a few stars poking through thinning clouds. It would have been a beautiful view, the pristine expanse of snow and the heavy coating on the trees, like paint splashed on with a heavy brush. Beautiful except for the gun shoved in the small of her back.

PJ knocked on the door. April didn’t want to use the doorbell that probably had multiple receivers around the house, and she stood off to the side of the tall doors. PJ gauged the distance April had placed between them, and judged it too far to get the gun away.

I’m only going to get one chance at this. Can’t waste it. Wait for it.

PJ’s stomach was in knots. She hoped no one answered the door. There were lights on in the house, but there might be lights on somewhere in the huge place all the time.

The door swung open and Mary Beth smiled a warm greeting.

Oh God, no, no!

Sensing April moving up behind her, PJ swung both of her arms up, trying to block the entrance. “Get out of here!” PJ shouted.