The Botanist (24 page)

The captain sounded weary when he responded. “What do you suggest, Cody?”

Cody looked out over the desert, realizing he didn’t have an answer. It only took him a minute to think of one.

“Let me go down there. If anything happens, she should have a bodyguard nearby.”

“She’s surrounded by SWAT, Cody.”

“Yes, but they’ll be focused on
him,
not her. I can go from foxhole to foxhole and just stay close to her.”

Frank’s voice came on the com for the first time. “No, Cody. You could be seen.”

“I know how to keep to the shadows, Frank. And with no moon, all there
are
are shadows.”

“What if he has night vision?”

“If he has night vision we’re screwed anyway.”

“Okay, enough,” the captain broke in. “Go ahead Cody, but keep your distance.”

Frank couldn’t have told the captain of what had happened between Cody and Alex earlier that day. If the captain even suspected there was a conflict of interest on Cody’s part, he’d have sent Frank or Court instead.

Cody turned to Merriton. “Do you have some goggles, rather than binoculars, that have night vision on them?”

Merriton dug around in his bag for a few seconds before producing a heavy-looking pair. Cody secured them to his head. “Thank you.” Then he was off, before Frank could spill the beans and the captain could change his mind.

By
the time Cody reached the first foxhole, Alex was a third of the way through the loop. It was taking a lot longer for her to walk it than it had been to drive it. Cody jumped into the small, concealed hollow in the ground. The SWAT guy didn’t flinch.

“Sir,” he whispered when Cody squatted down beside him.

“Where is she?” Cody breathed, winded.

“Ten o’clock, sir.”

Cody spotted her, but he was too far away still. He pushed the com button.

“Desert-6, I’m heading to your location. Be there in about fifteen seconds.”

“Roger, sir.”

He patted the SWAT guy on the shoulder and bolted from the foxhole. When he landed lightly in Desert-6’s hole, he was actually a bit ahead of Alex. She would pass by his location in the next minute or two.

As she came level with his position, she stopped. She seemed to be looking at something across from where he was crouching. He was about to ask what she was looking at when she spoke.

“Captain”—her voice came clearly across the com—“I’m looking at a smooth boulder about ten feet south of me. Permission to climb it?”

“Why?” the captain asked.

Cody was close enough to see Alex shrug. “Maybe he’ll think I’m tired and looking for a place to rest for the night. Maybe he’ll . . . I don’t know . . .”

“Think you’re a sitting duck?” Cody broke in. “That’s off the loop, Alex, and that’s exactly what you’ll be.”

“But it’s up higher. If he comes, it’ll give our guys a crystal clear shot, won’t it?”

Cody looked at the SWAT guy he was squatting next to. The man nodded.

“She’s right, sir. If he comes at her from any direction, I’ll have him.”

Cody sighed—not the answer he’d been hoping for.

The captain must have gotten the same information from someone else near him. “She’s right, Cody. Permission granted, Alex, but climb slowly and tell us exactly what you see up there.”

“All right.”

He watched her deftly climb the boulder. She slid onto the top of it, then spun in a slow circle on her backside, taking in her surroundings.

“I don’t see much of anything; it’s too dark. I s’pose I’m offering a free meal to any nocturnal creatures who care to venture this way.”

Cody rolled his eyes. “Not funny, Alex,” he said into the com.

“Oh, lighten up, Cody. I’ll admit I was nervous about this operation. Now I’m just bored. The only thing up here is sagebrush, dirt, the wind wafting through the prickly pear. You know, normal stuff.”

Cody felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. “We don’t have prickly pear in Utah,” he said as seriously as he could manage.

“Really? So what
are
the names of the cactuses here?”

Cody opened his mouth, then clamped it shut again. He glanced over to see the SWAT guy grinning stupidly into his rifle’s scope. “What’re you laughing at,” he muttered out of the side of his mouth. “Do
you
know the names of—?”

“Detective!” The rest of the sentence was forgotten when the SWAT guy suddenly gasped and lifted his gun.

Cody jerked his face forward in time to see what looked like an arm coming up out of the earth and wrapping itself around Alex’s waist.

“Cody!” Her shriek came from out in front of him, rather than through the com. It stopped his heart and cinched around his stomach. Cody leapt from the foxhole, sprinted, and scaled the boulder she’d been sitting on in five seconds flat.

When he stood on top of the boulder, she had vanished. There was no trace of where she’d gone. Cody pulled a flashlight from his pocket and shined it out as far as he could, expecting to see her being dragged off. There was nothing.

“Alex!” His voice echoed in the silent isolation of the desert. “Alex!”

In the next instant, a half dozen SWAT team members were standing around him. They produced flashlights and spotlights, and in a matter of seconds, the area was well-lit. Then more people were appearing on and around the boulder. They were digging, knocking, patting, and doing a host of other things to the area Alex had just been in.

Cody recognized the man he’d been squatting next to less than a minute ago.

“Why didn’t anyone shoot?” he asked the man.

“All I saw was an arm, detective. I could have hit it, but my ammo would have gone through it and hit her in the abdomen. I didn’t want to risk killing her.”

“Detective! Over here!”

Cody strode over to where several of the men were digging. When he got there, Frank was standing beside him. The men had discovered a tarp of some kind with dirt clods and desert plants glued to it. It covered what looked like a manhole, blending perfectly into the landscape.

“Open that!” Cody yelled.

They felt around the flat circular hatch for some kind of opening device; they dug around it; they pounded on it with their shovels. It sounded metallic, but didn’t give under their efforts.

“I think it’s cemented shut, sir.”

Cody ran his hands through his hair, panic washing over him. The Botanist had Alex. The sound of her voice screaming his name echoed between his ears and scratched up and down his spine.

“What do you mean it’s cemented shut? How is that possible?”

“I don’t know, sir. But it’s gonna take us some time to get it open.”

Cody turned, pacing, barely keeping from tearing his own hair out. He kicked a nearby dirt clod and cursed.

Chapter 37

Cody remained on site until well after sun up. The entire area was being excavated. It was obvious that the Botanist had some kind of underground system to move around the desert without being seen, just as Resputa predicted. Cody didn’t want to think about how long it would take to build something like that, or why no one knew about it.

The problem was they were having a hard time breaking into his system. Bull dozers were on the way to help, but it would be nearly ten o’clock before they arrived. Alex had already been missing for hours. When Cody thought of what that animal might to do her—of what had been done to the other victims—panic rose in his chest to the point that he found it difficult to breathe. He pushed those thoughts away, telling himself she’d be all right.

She wasn’t the only one he had in his clutches. It was a horrible thing to think, but Cody couldn’t help it. It made him feel better to think that maybe the Botanist wouldn’t torture Alex right away, that maybe he’d leave her for later, giving Cody time to find her first. Then the guilt over caring more about her safety than Melissa’s set in, and Cody’s chest started to hurt.

Just as the bulldozers arrived, Cody got a call from the station.

“What is it, Rose?”

“I need you to come back to the station, Cody.”

“Why? The bulldozers just got here. They’re going to try to break in—”

“The captain told me that even with the heavy metal it might be a few hours, Cody. A man named Vern Thompson just arrived. He’s asking to speak with the detective in charge of the case.”

“Who?”

“He’s Alex’s father.”

Cody
arrived back at the station an hour later, exhausted and scared. He hadn’t shaved or showered in two days, and the last thing he felt ready for was meeting Alex’s father, especially when he’d allowed a killer to kidnap her only hours earlier.

“Cody?”

Cody turned toward the familiar voice. His eyebrows rose when he saw his father standing beside the station door. Cody eyed him warily. More questions? More accusations? Cody wasn’t up to either, but his father merely looked sad.

“Dad? Is everything all right?”

“Yes. I know you’re busy, Cody, but I wondered if we might talk for a few minutes.”

Cody glanced toward the station. Alex’s father and the captain were waiting for him.

“I’d like to, Dad. I really would, but there are people waiting for me.”

His fatherpaused, then nodded. “Okay.” He turned and headed for the parking lot. Something tugged at Cody’s heart.

“Dad, wait.”

His father turned, and Cody had no idea what to say.

“How—how’s Mom?”

“Fine. Better now that we know you’re okay.” Guilt washed over Cody again, but his father continued. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

Cody’s eyebrows jumped. He didn’t think his father had ever apologized to him before.

“I was so worried about you that it didn’t occur to me that you’d know the detective who died. I’m so sorry.”

Cody swallowed, but didn’t trust his voice.

“We’ve been watching the news. They’re saying a young woman from up north was attacked, but managed to get away. I’m sure you’re working with her. I don’t want you to think that I’m angry with you for trying to help her.”

Cody winced as though struck, and his father paused, looking at him.

“Cody, what is it?”

Cody swallowed and took a deep breath. Tears of frustration and fatigue welled up behind his eyes. He hated being vulnerable in front of his father, but try as he might, he couldn’t completely blink away the tears.

Cody glanced toward the station, but no one was nearby.

“You can’t repeat this, Dad. Not to anyone.”

His father looked very serious, and he nodded. “All right.”

“Alex is gone. The killer took her.”

His father’s eyes widened in alarm. “What?”

Cody dropped his head, feeling the need to explain. “We were trying to draw out the killer. She volunteered to do it, but I didn’t feel right about it.”

Cody’s father was silent for a few seconds before whispering, “Did you say anything?”

“Yes! I did, but I was out-voted. It was her decision, and I know that, but I still should have fought harder against it. Or I should have stayed closer to her, done something—anything—to keep her safe.” His voice cracked on the last word.

His father’s hand came up to rest on his shoulder. “Cody,” he said quietly.

He didn’t say anything else, but it was enough. Norman was a good father, but it had been years since they’d had any kind of tender moment together. Now standing together with a feral wind wafting in from the black desert, Cody felt closer to his father than he had in years.

After a minute of companionable silence, his father dropped his hand. “Cody, there’s something I want to tell you. I . . . I know that . . . you’ve chosen your profession based on a sense of honor, and not just to piss me off, even though it sometimes seems like that’s what I think.”

Cody nodded and wiped his eyes, his voice quiet. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“It’s just, there are reasons, Cody. Reasons I didn’t want you to become a cop.”

“I think I know what they are, Dad.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. You and Uncle Clyde had some kind of falling out, so when I wanted to do what he did, you didn’t like it.”

Cody’s father sighed. “I suppose I understand why you think that’s what happened, but that’s not exactly how it played out.”

Cody turned more fully to face his father. “Then how did it play out?”

His father immediately withdrew, looking away and stiffening his shoulders. “Perhaps this is a conversation for another time. You have a lot to worry about just now.”

“I’d like to hear it now, if you’re willing.” Cody was afraid if he didn’t press for answers now, his father would return to his same old closed-mouth self, and the window for getting answers would be gone.

His father sighed, hesitating again. “Your uncle and I were always close. We didn’t have a falling out. I never had a problem with the fact that he was a cop; I even thought it was cute when you started asking for toy guns and plastic sheriff’s badges as a kid. Truth is, I didn’t have a problem with his job until after he died.”

“But why? What happened?”

His father hesitated again, scrutinizing the sidewalk below their feet with an intensity usually reserved only for his wife’s cooking.

“Cody?” a feminine voice said.

Cody turned to see Rose’s head and shoulders peering around the station door. “They’re waiting for you, Cody.”

Cody nodded, about to tell Rose he’d be right there, but Norman was already on his feet.

“Dad, what—?”

“Go to your meeting, Cody. Solve your case. We’ll talk again later.”

“But, Dad,” Cody whispered. “I want to hear this.”

His father nodded. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. I should have told you years ago, I suppose. But now is not the time. Solve your case. Bring Alex home. Then we’ll have a conversation.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Cody finally said.

“I know.”

He and his father hadn’t hugged in years, but it felt like they should, and things were suddenly awkward.

“Uh, well, tell Mom I’ll come see her in a few days.”

“I will. Take care of yourself, Cody. Go get some sleep when you’re finished here.”

Cody hoped the look he gave his father was reassuring even though he had no intention of sleeping anytime soon.

He watched his father get into his car and pull out onto Main Street.

“Sorry.” Rose came up beside him. “I didn’t mean to interrupt a personal moment, but the captain stressed urgency when he had me call you.”

Cody shook his head. “Don’t be. I think he was looking for an excuse to exit the personal moment anyway.”

Rose smirked, then turned and led Cody into the station.

Cody had prepared himself for rage, for terror, for anxiety; he prepared himself for every reaction Alex’s father might have . . . except the one he actually did. When Cody walked in, he could see the captain speaking with a man inside the door. Even from behind, streaks of gray were visible in the man’s hair. Cody took a deep breath and went in.

Alex’s father was not tall, but was solidly built. Deep laugh lines had settled around his eyes and mouth, and the gray in his hair swirled with the brown like a peppermint candy. He was not irate or terrified. Though his eyes had a haunted look about them, he held himself with a quiet dignity that Cody had seen in Alex. Though she looked nothing like her adoptive father, she exuded an air that was unmistakably his.

“Mr. Thompson.”—the Captain stood as Cody walked in—“this is Cody Oliver, lead detective on the case.”

Alex’s father stood, shook Cody’s hand firmly, and stared at him with a direct, hawkish gaze that Cody found unnerving.

“Mr. Thompson”—the Captain addressed Cody—“has driven most of the night to get here.”

Cody looked at Mr. Thompson. “You’ll have to forgive me, sir. Alex didn’t tell us you were coming.”

“She didn’t know I was coming,” Mr. Thompson said. “I spoke with her two nights ago, right after I got back from a business trip. She assured me and her mother that she was fine, but I had a bad feeling about it. This morning, not long after midnight actually, I had a nightmare. I woke up feeling alarmed. I felt like Alex was in trouble, and she wouldn’t answer her cell. I told my wife I was coming down here, and I drove straight through.”

Cody’s eyes widened as the man spoke, and he couldn’t seem to shrink them to their normal size. He’d had a nightmare about Alex just after midnight? That was right when the Botanist nabbed her.

As if reading the thought, Mr. Thompson repeated it. “Your captain tells me that’s about the time that this guy took her.”

“And that doesn’t surprise you? The timing, I mean?”

Mr. Thompson merely looked at him. “No. Why should it?”

Cody exchanged glances with thecaptain, but didn’t answer.

“She’s my daughter,” Alex’s father said. “I know when she’s in trouble.”

“So, you came out of fear for her safety? You don’t have anything to add to the investigation?” Cody changed the subject just to help himself stop staring at the man.

Mr. Thompson hesitated. “I can tell you what I remember of her adoption, and the bracelet she wears. I don’t know how much help it will be, but that’s what your captain has been asking me about.

Cody blinked. “Of course. Anything you can tell us might be helpful. Please, sit. Tell me what you remember.”

They both took a seat on the couch in the captain’s office, but the captain’s cell phone rang. He glanced at it.

“It’s my wife. I think I’ll step out and take this. Please give your statement to Detective Oliver, Mr. Thompson.”

Alex’s father nodded, and the captain left the room.

“First of all, sir,” Cody began when they were both seated, “I want to say how sorry I am that it turned out this way. We took every precaution, but—”

Alex’s father held his hands up. “Please, son, you don’t have to apologize. Your captain has already told me everything, including the part where Alex got out of the van when she wasn’t supposed to. That’s just her way.”

Though he looked far from amused, Alex’s father said the last part with affection. “She’s always been a proactive person. She gets things done. Of course I’m terrified for her, but Alex is intelligent, independent, resourceful. If anyone can keep it together, get away from a dangerous man, it’s her.”

Cody nodded, remembering Alex had already escaped from this guy. Twice. Cody elected not to bring it up at this juncture, especially because he couldn’t agree more with what her father was saying.

“I believe you’re right, sir. What can you tell me about her adoption?”

“Only that it was strange from the get-go. I looked into it myself, even investigated the origin of the bracelet.”

Cody arched an eyebrow in surprise. “You did?”

“Yes. I always had an . . . unsettled feeling about it. An investigation was done, but it wasn’t extensive. When a child is found wandering on the highway and her parents don’t come looking for her, let’s just say no one is in any hurry to return her to them.”

“Understandable. So what did you do?”

“I tried to find out where the bracelet had come from. The investigators hit a dead end with it, but it was mostly about not having the manpower or resources to investigate further. I’m a curious man, Detective. I can be relentless when I want to find something or someone.”

“Sounds like some investigators I know.”

Thompson shook his head. “I’m not anymore, but when Alex was four I joined a PI firm, worked there for the better part of a decade.”

“What made you leave it?”

“Frankly? Not enough money to raise a family on. But I was good at my job, Detective.”

Cody rubbed the bridge of his nose. He tried to imagine what might have been going through this man’s mind during that time in his life.

“Forgive me, Mr. Thompson, but what were you hoping to find? Surely, you didn’t want to actually find her parents.”

Thompson sighed, looking tired. “I don’t know, son. I suppose I was just looking for peace of mind. Like I said, I always had a strange feeling about Alex, about the way she came to me. We always believed she was meant to be ours—my wife and I—but I also always had this strange feeling that someone was waiting around every corner, waiting to take her away from me. Even if my investigation had led me to drug-addicted guardians that neither knew nor cared that Alex was no longer with them, I suppose at the least it would have given me closure. It would have been something I could tell her when she was old enough to understand.”

“So what did you find?”

“Not much. I traced the origin of the bracelet, based on a partial serial number that was on the back of it. It was part of an exclusive collection—only a hundred or so pieces were ever made like that one. The craftsman who made them didn’t keep them together though. We’re talking about somewhere between seventy-five and one hundred buyers, who then might have sold them to others. The pieces had all been made and sold ten years before Alex was born, and they weren’t worth enough to be traced beyond their first selling.”