Dark Visions (12 page)

While everyone talked, Caleb couldn't help
but think about where he was. His daughter was missing and he was
in a room with self-professed psychics.

He turned to Dolan. "Why don't you help?
You've done this sort of thing before. There has to be a reason she
wrote your name down so prominently. Maybe it was a cry for help.
Can't you use some psychic power to conjure up an image of where
Sarah might be?"

Dolan was shaking his head. "It's not that
simple. Besides, I'm retired. I know it's not what you want to
hear, but I stopped helping the police about a year ago."

"Why would you do that? It seems to me if
you've got a God given talent, you should use it."

Dolan stood. "If you must know, I'm sick of
the notoriety. I'm old and I not only can't handle the people
anymore, I don't want to. The police will just have to find all
their missing persons with real investigative work."

"That's ridiculous. Listen to yourself. My
daughter is missing and you're saying you won't help. Especially
after it started here."

"What started here?" Dolan asked.

The office door swung open, hitting the
guard who still stood in front of it. He moved out of the way as a
man walked in followed by two uniformed police officers.

The mantra came back to Caleb.
No
police
.

Dolan spoke first. "Alex, what's this?"

"Your security guard called them. After the
break in yesterday by his daughter, then the prowler at Esmerelda's
trailer last night, security thought it better to have the police
deal with him."

The guy was pointing at Caleb.

"Heh, look," Caleb said, he raised his hands
in supplication. "I'm dealing with this amicably now. The story
isn't so mixed up after all."

"Doesn't matter. You still assaulted the
security guards."

"They grabbed me," Caleb said, his voice
showing his exasperation.

One of the cops stepped in and nodded at
Dolan. He appeared to be well known.

"Come with us," he said to Caleb.

Caleb wanted to run. If whoever had Sarah
saw him with the police, it would be all over.

"No," was all he could think of.

Everyone looked surprised. The air seemed to
thicken.

"There's the easy way or the hard way," the
cop said.

"I pick the hard way," Caleb said for
Sarah.

Chapter 26

Amelia lifted the phone. This was fruitless.
It had been thirty minutes and she'd gotten nowhere. One more
hospital to call. Then she'd call the police. She wasn't waiting
any longer.

The doorbell rang. She placed the phone in
its cradle and stood. Could this be news about Sarah?

She walked to the door like a zombie, the
remnants of her headache an echo in her skull. When she got to the
door she straightened her shirt, pulled her shoulders back and
opened it. She was as ready as she would ever be.

"Can I help you?" she asked. A dark blue
sedan was parked in her driveway. She could spot an undercover
police car anywhere after living next door to a cop before moving
here.

"My name is Sam Johnson. I'm the lead
investigator in last night's hit and run fatality. I'm sorry to
intrude, but would you be able to furnish us with a current picture
of your daughter."

Amelia stepped back and frowned. Fatality?
What was he talking about?

"I'm not sure I understand what you're
saying about. Is Sarah hurt?"

The officer made a strange facial gesture.
It looked like he was surprised. He stepped back and looked at the
number on the house. "Are you Amelia Roberts?"

Amelia nodded.

"I had two officers come by here earlier to
explain what happened on Birk Street last night and to talk to your
daughter. They met your husband but forgot to ask for a picture. It
seems the witnesses' descriptions are scattered. If you could just
furnish me with a..."

Amelia wavered, feeling light on her feet.
She grabbed the door handle for support.

"Is everything okay, ma'am?" the cop
asked.

"Is Sarah dead?"

The officer tilted his head to the side. "I
wouldn't know that."

"You said fatality."

"A man was run down by a vehicle on Birk
Street. Witnesses said the driver was your daughter. We went over
this with your husband. He didn't tell you?"

"He said it was Jehovah Witnesses at the
door."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Why would he lie,
Mrs. Roberts?"

"He didn't say anything about police."
Amelia raised a hand to her forehead. "I need to sit down. Come
in," she said as she made her way to the couch.

"Is there anything I can do? Would you like
me to get you some water?"

"No. Just tell me what your men told my
husband."

She sat back and listened while the
detective walked her through what he knew about last night.

"And Caleb knows about this?"

"Yes. They even showed him your daughter's
notebook. Can you tell me anything about this notebook? Was Sarah
in and out at odd hours? Did she ever talk to you about it?"

Amelia shook her head. "No. She was quite
secretive." She leaned forward, put her elbows on her knees and
started to massage her temples. "I just can't believe this. There's
no way Sarah's involved in any sort of criminal activity."

"First we need to locate her and then we'll
be able to ascertain what's really going on. You have to
understand, Mrs. Roberts, from our point of view, that notebook is
pretty detailed and I don't want to jump to conclusions, but," he
left it hanging.

Amelia looked at him. "Don't then. Sarah is
not involved in any crimes."

"We can't confirm that until we talk to your
daughter. Although, it could be that she was helping people. We're
just not sure. On two separate occasions we've got photographs from
reporters with what we believe was the person who saved a life.
That individual disappeared each time. And then that news anchor
woman was saved by a girl about your daughter's age. She was
wearing a bandanna. There's a possibility it was Sarah."

Amelia's thoughts were starting to scatter.
"I thought my husband told me he was going to the police station.
He said a missing person's report would be easier to file in
person." She stood up, not knowing what to do next, but wanting to
do something.

The cop was looking at her. "A picture would
really help."

"Right."

Amelia went to her photo albums and withdrew
a picture from a few years back. Since Sarah had started losing her
hair she refused to have any pictures taken. Amelia snapped one of
Sarah while they were on a four day mini vacation in Florida. Sarah
had only started pulling her forearm hair and eyebrows by that
time.

She walked back to the living room and gave
the picture to the cop. Tears were starting to crawl down her
cheeks. She wiped at them and sat on the couch.

The detective studied the picture for a
moment and then slipped it in his jacket pocket. "I'd like to
monitor your phones in case your daughter calls in. Would you mind
if I had a couple of technicians come in to set up a tap?"

Amelia nodded. "Please do."

"If she is in trouble and gets a chance to
call, at least my guys may be able to trace the call."

He stood and pulled out a cell phone. Amelia
heard him talking to someone about getting everything set up. She
ambled toward the kitchen for a glass of water. She was suddenly
very thirsty. At least her headache was gone. It had been replaced
by a different ache.

Where was Sarah? What happened to her? Could
she really have been driving a car that killed a man?

Amelia's stomach did a flip. She wondered if
she was going to be sick. Why did Caleb lie?

There was a soft knock on the kitchen door.
She told him to come in.

"They should be here within a half hour.
I'll have a little paperwork for you to sign."

The phone rang.

Amelia grabbed at it. She answered before
she heard any of the muffled warnings coming from the cop.

"Hello, hello, Sarah?"

"No, I'm sorry. My name is Dolan Ryan. I'm
with the Psychic Fair."

Amelia almost hung up. She even saw herself
slamming the phone down. She'd had enough of these people from the
fair. "This isn't a good time."

"I understand. I'm aware of Sarah's
troubles."

"You are? How's that?" She looked up at the
cop standing a few feet away.

"Your husband explained everything and I'm
sorry to hear how it's turned out. I thought the least I could do
was give you a call to tell you that..."

"Is my husband there with you?"

"That's why I'm calling. Your husband isn't
here. He was taken away by the police."

Chapter 27

He tapped the steering wheel with his
fingers. This wasn't going to work. It's not supposed to be this
way. Every cop would be looking for this police car soon. His
brother was dead. The bitch in the backseat did it. They were down
to one or two more jobs and that would've been it. The boss had
promised. But the bitch in the backseat went and fucked it all
up.

He would have to make her pay. Seriously
pay. But she was too ugly to do anything fun with. He had committed
to himself he'd have a little fun with the next girl they take, but
he couldn't with this one. He wouldn't be able to get past all the
missing hair. Whenever he looked at her body all he could think
about was a nuclear bomb survivor.

"What happened to you anyway?"

She didn't answer him. He looked in the
mirror at her.

"I asked you a question. What happened to
your hair?"

She continued to look out the window.

"Fuck you then."

"It's a disease. It's contagious," Sarah
said.

He shook his head. Yeah right.

Another gas station went by. That was two
within the last ten minutes. No cop cars in sight. He looked in his
rear-view mirror. No one following him.

He wondered if the cop had radioed in his
position when he did the traffic stop. Could a broken taillight be
important enough to call in the stop?

He saw buildings coming up ahead. A small
town soon became visible. The sign said population 11,000. It also
said, 'where daisies grow'. He chuckled; the bitch sitting behind
him would be pushing some up soon.

Doubt played with him. He realized that he
probably wouldn't be able to pull this thing off. His brother was
the one who always handled the details. He didn't know what to do
next. Where would he go? Where did he think any kind of ransom
money was going to come from?

A cop was dead and here he was driving
through the town where the officer probably patrolled. People might
recognize the car and wave, expecting the dead cop to be
driving.

He swore out loud, smashed his hand against
the steering wheel and hunkered lower in the seat.

He was making too many mistakes. The boss
hated mistakes. He should have loaded the cop's body in the trunk.
It might delay things a little. Instead of looking for a cop
killer, they'd need to find the cop first. Too late now.

He needed to think things through
better.

Number one was ditch the cop car. He thought
about killing the bitch, but decided to keep her alive for now. He
may need her to get out of a sticky situation. Maybe he could use
her against the boss. Blackmail the boss to pay him quiet money or
the girl goes to the cops with all the information needed to put
the boss away for a long time.

There, a plan was forming. Maybe he could
clean this mess up after all.

He had to get out of this small town first.
Everyone probably knew everyone else and they wouldn't recognize
him behind the wheel of a cop car. More witnesses to tell where
they saw the car later on.

He ducked down just enough so he could still
see over the dash.

Moments later he came to the edge of town
and passed the last house. He looked in the mirror and spotted the
girl in the backseat scrunched up, her knees drawn to her
chest.

"This is your fault. Things would have been
easier if you had minded your own business. Who sent you anyway?
How did you know about our plans two different times?"

She didn't respond.

"Did you hear me? When this is over, you
die. You do know that?"

He rounded a corner and saw what looked like
an old motel. From what he could see, the place looked abandoned.
He pulled off the two lane highway and stopped in front of the
rundown building. A sign said the area was slated for demolition.
That would explain some of the construction equipment and the small
white trailer on the side.

He pulled away from the front and drove
around back, parking the police cruiser away from view of the
highway. He had been in police cars before so he knew there was no
need to worry about the bitch in the backseat. She could only get
out when he opened the rear door from the outside.

The back of the motel looked like it had
some work done to it recently.
That's strange
, he thought.
Why renovate when they're taking it down
.

He stepped out of the cruiser and scanned
the gravel and mud driveway. No recent tracks. At least none since
the last rainfall.

The last place to look was the construction
trailer. Having arrived in a cop car, he strode toward the trailer
with authority. If someone saw him they'd have to assume he was
under cover.

The door to the trailer was locked. He
looked in the window to the right of the door. No one was in
sight.

Perfect. He could use one of the abandoned
rooms to keep the girl for a day or two. Since it was a Friday
night he didn't figure anyone would come back to work here until at
least Monday. But he'd be gone by then. Long gone.