Page 80
Story: Deep as the Dead
“Ethan.”
Alexa’s quiet voice had his attention jerking to her. She pointed. There, under the bed, was a bright blue object. He took a couple of steps closer and crouched down. Gingerly lifted the stained coverlet aside where it was dragging on the floor. Recognition punched into him. He reached out for the object. Held it up. It was a Toronto Blue Jayscap.
Just like the one Patrick Udall had worn when they’d spoken to him inTruro.
* * *
“The thinkingnow is that the kid might have been snatched early yesterday evening.” Nyle wiped a hand over his face as he walked through the door into the conference room. Jonah and Ian looked weary as they trailed behind him. “Hey, Steve. When did you getin?”
Steve Friedrich waved a hand in response. “About three. Could have walked faster. Nothing but holdups. You talking about the missing boy inTruro?”
Ian took up the thread. “Yeah. Just left there after interviewing the family. Patrick called home yesterday evening and talked to one of his brothers. Said he was spending the night with a friend and then hung up. That’s a violation of household rules, apparently. He didn’t speak to his parents. My guess is Tillman had him then and forced him to make the call. Slowed down the police responsesignificantly.”
“He could have taken the kid out of the motel room in broad daylight today,” Nyle said, slumping into a chair. “It had a rear-facing window. If the car was back there, put the kid in the trunk, and no one sees athing.”
Ethan speared a hand through his hair. “Why?” He directed the question to Alexa. “What does he gain with this? What’s heplanning?”
“Without consulting my crystal ball, I’d guess we’re going to learn very soon. He needs the boy for whatever comes next.” And it was all too easy for her to imagine the terror Patrick was going through right now, especially after talking to Logan Sherwood earliertoday.
“If it’s a trade he wants, there’s noway.”
Alexa met Ethan’s gaze, recognized the adamant look there. “He’s escalating,” she said quietly. She’d spent the hours while the officers were in Truro going through all the information she’d compiled about Tillman’s patterns. And this one was fairly clear. “Just like the trigger that provoked the four recent murders in a short period, he’s taking bigger risks. Re-exerting the control he lost when he was injured at Simard’s direction three years ago. He’s redoubling his efforts after being disappointed at the vigil.” His disappointment had stemmed from discovering she wasn’t there. There was no question that Alexa figured into Tillman’s plans, but she wasn’t going to voice that thoughtaloud.
Alexa wondered now if she’d underestimated just how seriously the vigil scene had affected him. Tillman couldn’t believe that Ethan would allow her to be traded forPatrick.
So, he had something else in mind. And whatever it was, it’d be far more dangerous for the boy than a simpletrade.
* * *
Alexa opened her eyes,disoriented. It took a moment for comprehension to filter in, snippets at a time. Darkness. She blinked a few times. Recalled she was in bed. In her room.Alone.
There was a flash of disappointment, quickly elbowed aside. Patrick. She sat straight up in bed as she remembered the boy. Tillman hadPatrick.
A sound emanated from the tablet she’d laid on the bedside table, and she came totally awake. Alexa snatched it up, her hand shaking a little as she logged in. Checked heremail.
Seeing the message in the inbox, she jumped out of bed and raced across the hall to Ethan’sroom.
The speed with which he opened the door told her he hadn’t been asleep yet, although his shirt was hanging unbuttoned and loose from the waistband of his pants. She pushed by him without a word, noting the clock on his bedside table. It was only midnight. She’d slept for less than anhour.
“There’s amessage?”
Nodding, she sat on the edge of the bed and opened it. Ethan sank down beside her. Neither of them spoke until she’d clicked on the image in the body of themessage.
“Oh, God.” Alexa clapped a hand to her mouth. It was critical to remain objective, to keep her mind clear, but seeing the picture of Patrick sent objectivity up in flames. The boy’s eyes were wide and frightened. There was duct tape over his mouth and wrapped around his body, securing him to a straight-backchair.
“Why has no one recognized the car he’s driving?” She set the tablet aside and bounced from the bed, striding to one end of his room and back. “What good is the damn BOLO alert if no one can find the damnhim?”
“I’m guessing he changed vehicles.” Ethan’s voice was expressionless. He had the tablet in his hands and was studying the photo. “Maybe he switched plates. He could have gotten tipped off that we’ve ID’d him, but I don’t think so. He’s probably just that fucking cautious. He was driving that rental when he went to Truro last time. Perhaps he was afraid it’d berecognized.”
His calm defused her sudden burst of temper. She crossed to the bed and sat beside him again, reaching for his hand. His fingers linked with hers and Alexa leaned her head against his shoulder, dread pooling nastily in her belly. Because there was more coming. Whatever Tillman had been planning the last couple of days was about to come to ahead.
Minutes later, when the tablet sounded an alert, she was proven right. As she began reading the email message, her stomach dropped infreefall.
Alexa.I didn’t have a chance to tell you how much I appreciated your words at the press conference. I think you are coming to know me. Not as well as you will, of course. And I have come to know you. Infanticide is an ugly sin. The worst there is, perhaps. She gasped, her hand clutching more tightly to Ethan’s as pain speared through her.But there is no sin too great to be forgiven if the sinner is sincerelypenitent.
I’m offering you a chance for God’s mercy. Confession. Penance. Redemption. You can save this boy and receive forgiveness for the child you murdered. But if you don’t follow directions exactly, you’ll doom him to a grave like the one in which your daughter resides. And doom yourself to the fires ofhell.
You have six hours before the boy dies. Get in the car and take highway 102 to Truro. Come alone. I’ll be in touchsoon.
Alexa’s quiet voice had his attention jerking to her. She pointed. There, under the bed, was a bright blue object. He took a couple of steps closer and crouched down. Gingerly lifted the stained coverlet aside where it was dragging on the floor. Recognition punched into him. He reached out for the object. Held it up. It was a Toronto Blue Jayscap.
Just like the one Patrick Udall had worn when they’d spoken to him inTruro.
* * *
“The thinkingnow is that the kid might have been snatched early yesterday evening.” Nyle wiped a hand over his face as he walked through the door into the conference room. Jonah and Ian looked weary as they trailed behind him. “Hey, Steve. When did you getin?”
Steve Friedrich waved a hand in response. “About three. Could have walked faster. Nothing but holdups. You talking about the missing boy inTruro?”
Ian took up the thread. “Yeah. Just left there after interviewing the family. Patrick called home yesterday evening and talked to one of his brothers. Said he was spending the night with a friend and then hung up. That’s a violation of household rules, apparently. He didn’t speak to his parents. My guess is Tillman had him then and forced him to make the call. Slowed down the police responsesignificantly.”
“He could have taken the kid out of the motel room in broad daylight today,” Nyle said, slumping into a chair. “It had a rear-facing window. If the car was back there, put the kid in the trunk, and no one sees athing.”
Ethan speared a hand through his hair. “Why?” He directed the question to Alexa. “What does he gain with this? What’s heplanning?”
“Without consulting my crystal ball, I’d guess we’re going to learn very soon. He needs the boy for whatever comes next.” And it was all too easy for her to imagine the terror Patrick was going through right now, especially after talking to Logan Sherwood earliertoday.
“If it’s a trade he wants, there’s noway.”
Alexa met Ethan’s gaze, recognized the adamant look there. “He’s escalating,” she said quietly. She’d spent the hours while the officers were in Truro going through all the information she’d compiled about Tillman’s patterns. And this one was fairly clear. “Just like the trigger that provoked the four recent murders in a short period, he’s taking bigger risks. Re-exerting the control he lost when he was injured at Simard’s direction three years ago. He’s redoubling his efforts after being disappointed at the vigil.” His disappointment had stemmed from discovering she wasn’t there. There was no question that Alexa figured into Tillman’s plans, but she wasn’t going to voice that thoughtaloud.
Alexa wondered now if she’d underestimated just how seriously the vigil scene had affected him. Tillman couldn’t believe that Ethan would allow her to be traded forPatrick.
So, he had something else in mind. And whatever it was, it’d be far more dangerous for the boy than a simpletrade.
* * *
Alexa opened her eyes,disoriented. It took a moment for comprehension to filter in, snippets at a time. Darkness. She blinked a few times. Recalled she was in bed. In her room.Alone.
There was a flash of disappointment, quickly elbowed aside. Patrick. She sat straight up in bed as she remembered the boy. Tillman hadPatrick.
A sound emanated from the tablet she’d laid on the bedside table, and she came totally awake. Alexa snatched it up, her hand shaking a little as she logged in. Checked heremail.
Seeing the message in the inbox, she jumped out of bed and raced across the hall to Ethan’sroom.
The speed with which he opened the door told her he hadn’t been asleep yet, although his shirt was hanging unbuttoned and loose from the waistband of his pants. She pushed by him without a word, noting the clock on his bedside table. It was only midnight. She’d slept for less than anhour.
“There’s amessage?”
Nodding, she sat on the edge of the bed and opened it. Ethan sank down beside her. Neither of them spoke until she’d clicked on the image in the body of themessage.
“Oh, God.” Alexa clapped a hand to her mouth. It was critical to remain objective, to keep her mind clear, but seeing the picture of Patrick sent objectivity up in flames. The boy’s eyes were wide and frightened. There was duct tape over his mouth and wrapped around his body, securing him to a straight-backchair.
“Why has no one recognized the car he’s driving?” She set the tablet aside and bounced from the bed, striding to one end of his room and back. “What good is the damn BOLO alert if no one can find the damnhim?”
“I’m guessing he changed vehicles.” Ethan’s voice was expressionless. He had the tablet in his hands and was studying the photo. “Maybe he switched plates. He could have gotten tipped off that we’ve ID’d him, but I don’t think so. He’s probably just that fucking cautious. He was driving that rental when he went to Truro last time. Perhaps he was afraid it’d berecognized.”
His calm defused her sudden burst of temper. She crossed to the bed and sat beside him again, reaching for his hand. His fingers linked with hers and Alexa leaned her head against his shoulder, dread pooling nastily in her belly. Because there was more coming. Whatever Tillman had been planning the last couple of days was about to come to ahead.
Minutes later, when the tablet sounded an alert, she was proven right. As she began reading the email message, her stomach dropped infreefall.
Alexa.I didn’t have a chance to tell you how much I appreciated your words at the press conference. I think you are coming to know me. Not as well as you will, of course. And I have come to know you. Infanticide is an ugly sin. The worst there is, perhaps. She gasped, her hand clutching more tightly to Ethan’s as pain speared through her.But there is no sin too great to be forgiven if the sinner is sincerelypenitent.
I’m offering you a chance for God’s mercy. Confession. Penance. Redemption. You can save this boy and receive forgiveness for the child you murdered. But if you don’t follow directions exactly, you’ll doom him to a grave like the one in which your daughter resides. And doom yourself to the fires ofhell.
You have six hours before the boy dies. Get in the car and take highway 102 to Truro. Come alone. I’ll be in touchsoon.
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