The Devil's Closet (15 page)

“She really loves him, doesn’t she?” I whispered, the ill feeling coming back yet again.

“I’d say that’s pretty obvious. She’s right, you know.” He was quiet.

“Right about what?”

“I know everything just happened, but no matter what you say, you can’t seem to let go of Eric.”

That was easier said than done. I also felt the need to apologize to Michael for continuing to put him in an awkward position of not fully knowing whether we were going forward or not. Each time I made a commitment to him, feelings rose up to loosen it. He said he wasn’t uncomfortable with my behavior, that I needn’t apologize, and he understood. How much longer would I continue doing this to him?

I looked at Michael. “I just realized, if you hadn’t come back, we may have never seen each other again—ever. I mean, if Eric had left me for Jordan, I would’ve never gotten up the nerve to call you. I think I would’ve been too afraid you’d have already found someone else.”

He responded by holding me tighter and quietly chuckling. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but when I saw the look on your face I thought for sure you were going to knock her out right there in the parking lot.”

I began to laugh just a little, too. Michael always tried to find the amusing aspect of everything, no matter how dire it appeared on the surface. We reluctantly agreed to go back to the office. While we walked, I asked Michael what he was doing in the parking lot and what Jordan was saying to him. Turns out, he had gone to get a file out of his car as she was pulling in. Just to be friendly, she walked over and started chatting away about nothing in particular.

“Why, CeeCee? Were you jealous?” He smiled.

“As a matter of fact, I was.” I raised one eyebrow at him, and his smile grew bigger.

But we really needed to put the personal drama aside for more important efforts. Immediately, Michael started using my phone to contact other agents and direct them here and there. I still couldn’t get myself back on track. All I could think of was that I couldn’t call Eric yet. He probably still had five more hours of driving before he and the girls got to the condominium. I didn’t want to shock him into a car accident by telling him about Jordan. He had said he would call me when they got there. There was nothing I could do till then.

Michael was gabbing away on the phone, so I motioned that I was going to get a cup of coffee. He gave a thumbs-up, and I quietly grabbed my keys from behind him. I passed the coffee machine and went straight to my car. I hated lying to Michael, but I was protecting him. What he didn’t know couldn’t get him in trouble.

As soon as I turned onto Jim Carlson’s street, I spotted a woman with a small black terrier standing in the yard of her house, which sat directly to the east of his. I needed to be careful. She couldn’t know I was a cop.

An idea came to me, and I pulled right into her driveway. I told her I was from a bank and that we were getting ready to foreclose on the residence next door. The payments hadn’t been kept up and the house appeared to have been abandoned. I needed to make sure no one was living there before the foreclosure papers were filed. I said whatever I thought would make her comfortable with me.

“Carl fell behind in his payments? That’s unusual.”

She clearly knew Malone owned the house. “Unless the fellow who lives there fell behind in rent, and Carl just couldn’t cover it.” She looked down at the ground, thinking about what she had just said.

I told her I would appreciate it if she didn’t say anything to Carl or anyone else right now. The foreclosure wasn’t a done deal and if I could get a hold of the renter, I could see if he was planning on catching up the payments.

“He’s not home much, ma’am. I just assumed he travels a lot.”

I began to ask the woman, Ellen Powers, a series of questions. She said he was tall, wore glasses, had brown hair and a thick mustache. She had never spoken to him because he always seemed in a hurry. He had lived there alone for a little over ten months and drove a large black pickup truck.

It was him; it had to be. It was a dark pickup truck that tried to run me off the road. He traveled, which told me he was hiding the girls somewhere else. He’d only been here ten months, but that was just enough time to plan his kidnappings. I’d bet if I checked out his last state of residence, I’d find a couple of missing girls. If I knew his real name.

And lastly, I was sure his appearance was nothing but a disguise. I was itching to get inside that house, but I had to keep my wits about me. After I thanked Ellen and left, I drove past Carl Malone’s house hoping to catch him and ask about his renter. No such luck because, again, he wasn’t home. It was getting late. I had been gone over two hours and had turned my phone off. I turned it back on and called Michael, who, I was sure, was bouncing off the walls by then. Predictably, he answered on the first ring.

“I suppose it’s pointless to even ask?”

“Pretty much, I’m headed back right now.”

“Just go to the hotel and we’ll go grab dinner.”

He was irritated, which was hardly a surprise.

When I got to the hotel, he was sitting in a chair at the small table in the room, talking on his phone. I gave a playful wave and he only responded with a glare. He hung up and just as he began to badger me, my cell phone rang. Eric.

There were no lesser of two evils in this case. I didn’t want to deal with either man right now. I pointed to my phone and mouthed
Eric
before stepping outside. He and the girls had arrived safe and sound, all three exhausted from the drive. For a moment I almost considered not raising the issue of Jordan at all, but I had to. It went worse than expected.

When I told Eric about Jordan being pregnant, I heard him gasp, and then he said nothing. I had to remind him several times that the girls were there and he needed to keep it together, though I hope he had the sense to leave the room they were in while we talked.

I told him how I discovered he had been seeing Jordan while she was in the academy, and I even went so far as to call him a bastard once or twice. I yelled that he deceived me, our daughters, and our marriage. He began to bring up Michael, but I cut him off immediately.

“Don’t you dare! I made a choice a year ago, and that choice was you,” I shouted. “I never lied to you, Eric. I told you everything about Michael. Had I known you’d make me pay for it every day since, I might’ve made a different decision and saved us both a lot of grief. If you didn’t think you would get over it, why didn’t you just walk away back then? Did I really deserve all of this?” Any attempt at composure was over. I was crying hard now.

He sighed. “I thought I would be able to get over it, CeeCee, but I couldn’t. Now I see I never could. The minute I realized that, I should’ve walked but didn’t. I kept thinking something would change.”

“Do you love her, Eric?” I didn’t know if I wanted the answer or not.

After a long moment of silence, he answered, “Yes, CeeCee, I do.”

It was hard to hear, but at least I knew this time it was really the truth. At long last. He wasn’t finished, but I already knew what he was going to say.

“But I still love you, and if I had the choice right now, I would give anything to work things out with you.”

“I still love you, Eric, but you and I both know the damage is done and it’s over. I could never look at you the same again, and you couldn’t look at me. I’ve slept with Michael now and you know that and no matter what you might say or think, you’ll never get past it. Not to mention the lack of communication we’ve had the last several years. After Murder Mountain you’d always say, ‘I’m here if you need me,’ but then would shut me out the minute I tried to talk. I felt very alone.”

We remained quiet for a while. I saw I hadn’t shut the hotel room door all the way. Michael could hear every word. It was just as well; I wouldn’t have to explain everything later. I needed to hang up with Eric but had one more thing to say.

“Eric, you should call her. If you really do love her, call. She’s carrying your child and she needs you right now.” My stomach turned while I said this, but I knew it was right.

He admitted he had to. Then we said that the first moment it was safe, we would talk to the girls, agreeing not to throw Michael and Jordan in their faces. They would need a long transition, Selina especially. It would be a considerable amount of time before they learned about the baby. It was an hour and a half later by the time our conversation finally ended. I was drained.

I stayed outside for another half hour, mindlessly gazing at the interstate. It had been another mentally exhausting day.

“You heard most of my conversation.”

He nodded, but got up from his chair and came over. He pulled me into a comforting, forgiving embrace that seemed to last forever.

“The only thing I have to say or ask is, are you sure I’m who you want? No matter how many times you said it, I’m still not convinced. I’m not going to lie to you, and as much as this might scare you right now, I want you to be my wife someday. Not tomorrow or next week, but when you’re ready.
That’s
how much I love you and can’t live without you. But it’s up to you to figure it out and keep to whatever decision you make. Most important, whatever decision you make has to be for the right reasons, and not out of fear of hurting me or Eric.”

I pulled away. “I’m sure now, Michael. You’re who I want, who I need, and who I belong with. Who I’ve always belonged with. I should’ve realized that when I thought you died on Murder Mountain. I didn’t think I could go on.”

We embraced again, completely silent. Too many words had been said too many times. Somehow I felt we may have been very near the end of all our problems. The tension released when we heard Michael’s stomach growl and both of us laughed. It was an unusually warm night, so it was lovely to be able to walk to the nearest restaurant. Despite being a little more relaxed, I still didn’t have much of an appetite. Today’s events essentially still squashed it.

Michael expressed concern over my eating and sleeping habits, and promised that when the case was over, he was taking me away on a much needed vacation, anywhere I wanted to go.

The promise sounded wonderful, but a trip was a long way off. There were way too many things that needed to be taken care of before then, my planned stakeout that night being the first. I thought about waiting until Michael went to sleep and sneaking out, but after all the truth telling this afternoon, I didn’t feel right about it. Back in the room after dinner I took both of his hands in mine and sat down with him on the bed.

“Michael, do you trust me?”

He looked baffled and a bit dismayed, worried there was yet more to be hashed out. “Of course I do. Why?”

“I’m not talking personally, Michael. I mean professionally.”

He looked even more confused. “CeeCee, get to your point.”

I told him. Not everything, but most of it. I told him that I had been investigating the case behind the lines and had found something, but I couldn’t tell him what it was right then. I wasn’t sure about my find yet and the less he knew, the better off he’d be. I told him I was close to being sure who the killer was, but I needed a little more time.

I told him I had to go out that night and he’d have to take my word for everything and simply trust me.

“Trust you! You know who the killer is? Is that where you’ve been? My God, CeeCee, what’s the matter with you! After Murder Mountain I thought you would have learned!”

I had prepared myself for that reaction, but I wouldn’t budge about giving him any more information. He certainly wasn’t finished.

“Where do you think you’re going tonight?”

“I can’t tell you.”

He was floored. “You can’t tell me?” Now he was getting angry.

“Michael,” I said coolly, “you can’t know. I have nothing on this guy yet. Think realistically. If I get caught and the FBI finds out you knew about it, you’ll lose your job—if they don’t throw you in jail first.”

“Jesus! What the hell are you doing, burglarizing houses?” I felt my blood pressure rise a tad at his reference. He said it jokingly, but if he only knew. “I won’t let you leave here tonight until you tell me. I picture you going out and getting yourself killed, or at least federally indicted. Prison or a graveyard are two places I really don’t care to be visiting.”

Before I could argue back, his cell phone rang. He looked like he didn’t want to answer, but picked it up. “What is it!”

He laid the phone down. “Oh, fuck!”

“What?” I barked. Michael didn’t curse very much, and it always scared me when he did.

“He took another one. Let’s go.”