The Killing Vision (21 page)

“Are you denying this track is off your vehicle?”
Pettus asked.

“I know it’s mine,” Carver said, and Halloran felt a
thrill through his gut.

Woods’ face was ashen.  “Larry. . .”

“Shut up,” Carver told him.  “These people want some
dirt on the mayor, and they’ll get some dirt on the mayor.”  Carver swallowed and
looked at Halloran.  “I was at the river.  I won’t deny it.  I’ve been there
several times over the past few weeks.”

“Doing what exactly?” Halloran asked.

Carver shifted in his seat.  “I’ve been down there
with a few. . . ladies.”

Pettus gaped at the mayor.  “You mean, hookers?”

Carver nodded and stared at the table.  “Hookers,
prostitutes. . . whatever you want to call them.  I usually pick them up on
Fourth Street.”  He looked at Pettus.  “You know where I’m talking about.”

Pettus nodded.  “But why take them down there?”

“So we won’t be seen,” Carver said.  “I can’t very
well risk checking into a motel in town, now can I?”

“Can any of these women verify your story?” Halloran
asked.

“Undoubtedly.”  Carver rattled off three or four
names, including one well-known transvestite.  Halloran shot a glance at Pettus
and saw just the faintest trace of a smile play across his lips.

There was a knock at the door, and Chapman stuck his
head in and motioned for Halloran to join him in the hallway.  Halloran excused
himself and slipped out the door.

“How’s it going in there?” Chapman asked. 

Halloran shook his head.  “He didn’t do it.”

“What about the track?”

Halloran told him what Carver had divulged, and they
shared a quiet snicker over the transvestite.

“You think he knew it was really a guy?” Chapman
asked.

Halloran chuckled.  “After what we found in his
basement I wouldn’t be surprised.”  His gaze fell on the papers in Chapman’s
hand.  “What’s up?”

“Been talking with Shelley Mitchell—the roommate of
the Saunders girl.”

“What’d you find out?”

Chapman glanced at his notes.  “We’ve got a person
of interest.  She says the two of them partied a couple of times with a guy
named Wade Roberts.”

Roberts.  That name sounded familiar.  “Wasn’t the
guy that came in to see me about the mayor named Roberts?  Didn’t he say he had
a brother named Wade?”

Chapman nodded.  “One and the same.”

Halloran looked away, thinking. 

“Oh, and get this,” Chapman said.  “I ran a search
on all the vehicles registered in Wade Roberts’ name.  Got a hit on a black
Ford Escort like the kind that was seen in the Saunders girl’s neighborhood.”

Halloran took a deep breath.  “Sounds like we need
to pay a visit to Mr. Wade Roberts.”

* * *

11:30 AM

Derek sat at his desk watching as the homepage for
hotbabes.com
loaded with agonizing slowness on his computer screen.  Fucking dial-up
internet.  As close as they were to town they should at least be able to get
DSL.  Chad’s house had cable internet and they could watch full porn movies
there.  But here he was stuck with stills and most of them low-resolution. 
Hell, his dick would be limp by the time he got to see his first tit.

The crunch of gravel out in the driveway startled
him.  That couldn’t be his mom.  It was too early for her to be home from
church.  He glanced out his window to see an unmarked sedan pulling in.  The
car stopped and two men in suits climbed out.  One was a red-headed guy with
freckles.  The other had dark hair and a mustache, and Derek thought he may
have seen him on the news.  What the fuck were they doing here?

He slipped out of his room and padded barefoot to
the top of the stairs.  Below through the frosted glass of the front door he
watched them step up onto the porch.  There was a second of silence, and then a
light knock.  Wade had heard them as well, and he was already at the door to
meet them.

“Mr. Roberts?” came a voice on the other side.

“Yeah?”

“I’m Lieutenant Mike Halloran and this is my partner
John Chapman.  We’d like to ask you a few questions if you have a few minutes.”

Wade stepped back and opened the door wide.  “Sure,
come on in.”

The other men stepped into the living room and the
one with the mustache looked up and locked glances with Derek.  He nodded in
greeting and Derek nodded back.

Wade motioned to the couch.  “Have a seat.”

The three of them had moved out of Derek’s field of
vision, but he heard Wade say, “What’s this all about?”

One of the cops said, “We’re investigating the
disappearance of a female college student.  Abigail Saunders.  She hasn’t been
seen since Friday night.”

“What’s this got to do with me?”

The other man said, “Do you own a 2003 Ford Escort?”

“That’s my son’s car.

Derek felt sweat pop out on his brow. 
Fuck, oh
fuck
.

“That car was seen hanging around the Saunders
girl’s apartment on Friday.”

“What?” his father said.

“Is your son here?” the first cop asked.  “Maybe we
can clear all this up.”

“Derek!” his father called, and Derek’s legs
suddenly felt like rubber.

He moved down the stairs to the living room.  The
two detectives were sitting on the couch.  Wade sat in his recliner.  They were
all looking at him.  “Sit,” Wade told him.  Derek sank into the chair closest
to the cops.

The one with the mustache said, “Were you hanging
around on Woodside Avenue on Friday?”

Derek shot a glance at his father, then looked at
the floor.  There was no reason to lie about it.  They already knew it was
him.  “Yeah, I was there.”

“What were you doing?”

“Following a girl.”

The detective pulled out a small photograph and
showed it to him.  It was the angel.  “This her?”

Derek nodded.  “That’s her.”

“Why were you following her?”

Derek looked at him.  “I thought she was pretty.  I
just wanted to see where she lived, what she was doing.”

“How many times had you been there?”

“Just twice.  I followed her home from the Gas-N-Pack
on Thursday.”

“And you went back there on Friday?” the other
detective asked.

Derek nodded.  “I know it was stupid.  I just wanted
to get a look at her again.”

“Did you?”

Panic was starting to boil in Derek’s stomach. 
“Yeah.  I followed her back to the college.  I asked her out, but she kinda
blew me off.”

“That make you mad?” the cop with the mustache
asked.

“Sort of.”

“Then what happened?”

Derek looked at him.  “Nothing.  I came back home.”

“Did you go back to her apartment?”

“No,” Derek said, “I told you I came back home.”

“You’re sure you didn’t go back?”

Beside him, Wade sat up on the edge of his chair. 
“Look, he said he didn’t go back there.  What’s going on?”

The detective with the mustache looked at Wade. 
“Look, Mr. Roberts, we know you’re acquainted with Miss Saunders.  We talked to
her roommate.”

Derek watched his father’s face grow red, then
purple.  He thought at first Wade was having a stroke.  “Dad. . . ?”

Wade looked at him, then back at the cop.  He licked
his lips.  “Yes, I know them.  We partied together a few times.”

“So we’ve been told.”  The cop looked at Wade
squarely.  “Look, Mr. Roberts, Abigail Saunders hasn’t been seen since Shelley
Mitchell left their apartment on Friday at four o’clock.  We’re suspecting foul
play.”

Wade shot a glance at Derek.  “And you think one of
us
had something to do with it?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out.”  He shifted
in his seat.  “Look, we know you both know her.  Maybe you found out she had a
thing for your son and it made you mad.”

Honestly, now Wade’s head looked like it was going
to explode.  Sweat was pouring down his face.  “I think we’re done here,” he
said, and Derek could tell it was taking everything Wade had to stay calm. 
“We’re not answering anything else.”

The detective shrugged.  “Suit yourself.”  He and
the other man stood, and Wade did the same.  “We’ll be back.”

“You better have a warrant.”

“We will.”

The two men went out the front door.  Wade followed
them and watched them get back into their car.  He whispered, “Fuck.”

Derek watched the car back out of the driveway and
then looked back at Wade.  “Dad?  What’s going on?”

Wade kept his gaze on the black sedan.  “Nothing. 
Not a goddamned thing.”  When the car was out of sight, Wade shut the door and
looked at him.  “Not one word about this to your mother.  Understand?  Not one
fucking word.”

“Do you really know that girl?”

Wade didn’t answer him.  He sat back down the
recliner and turned on the television.  The NASCAR race was just starting and
Wade stared at it without saying anything else.

Derek turned and headed back up the stairs. 
Something weird was happening.  Something weird and big.

* * *

2:10 PM

For mid-July the day had turned out breezy and
pleasant.  The humidity of the past week was gone, and that made the heat easier
to tolerate.  Joel was glad.  He was always miserable to the point of
exhaustion in the heat.  And today he did not want to be miserable.

He and Dana had come to Riverside Park for the
afternoon.  Dana had packed a picnic lunch for them—“Cheesy, I know,” she told
him with an embarrassed laugh—and they had enjoyed it in the shade of the tall
oaks by the river.  The breeze coming over the water was steady and almost
cool.  Joel tilted his head back and breathed in the fresh air.  It was hard to
believe this area had been swarming with cops just a few days ago.

“It was right down there where they found those
bodies, wasn’t it?” Dana said, making him jump.

“You sure you don’t read minds?” Joel said and gave
her a grin.  He pointed to a pile of brush at the water’s edge.  “There, where
all those limbs and branches are.”

Dana shivered.  “I still can’t believe it happened
here in Cedar Hill.”

“I can’t believe they haven’t caught the guy yet.” 

“Wonder if you and I could solve it?” she said. 
“Between the two of us, reading people and objects, I bet we could find him in
no time flat.”

“Maybe.”  He hadn’t yet told her about his visit
with Lieutenant Halloran, and he wondered if they had even followed up on his
lead with the mayor.  He had been watching the news every night since, but
there had been no mention of anything.  Just as well.  He was sure he had come
across as some kind of nut case, and if he presented himself as a psychic that
would certainly seal it for him.  “You ever work with the police?”

“No, but I see it all the time on TV.”

Joel grunted.  “Something tells me our local cops
wouldn’t be as generous with their time.”

“Maybe not.”  She took a deep breath and blew it
out.  “I’d just like to help some way, you know?”

Joel nodded.  He thought of the mothers he had seen
on the news and their tearful, desperate pleas and how he wished to be able to
either find their children or bring them some closure.  He stared out across
the river.  “I went to the police last week,” he said. 

She gaped at him.  “What?  Why?”

He told her everything about what he found in the
mayor’s house, about speaking with Halloran and how he came away feeling he
might have done more harm than good.

“But you were just doing what you felt you had to,”
Dana said.  “I would have done the same thing.”

He smiled at her.  “I know you would.”

“And you don’t know what may be going on with the
investigation that isn’t being made public.”  Her voice was sounding excited,
and it was cute in a way.  “Maybe they’re watching the mayor, seeing what his
next move is.  Maybe they’re on a stakeout at his house.”

Joel thought of the detectives he had talked to
sitting in a darkened sedan with coffee and donuts and had to laugh.

Dana looked at him.  “What?”

He shook his head.  “You’re hilarious.”  He opened
his mouth to tell her about the strange call from Barry, but he stopped
himself.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to get into that right now.

Dana smiled and pulled a dandelion from the grass
and twirled it in her fingers.  He watched her and felt a strange warmth surge
through him.  And he knew what it was.

He was falling in love.

* * *

4:45 PM

Halloran could tell Wade Roberts was not surprised
to see him again.  Even as patrol cars swarmed into the driveway while he was
serving the warrant, Roberts showed no emotion.  Behind him, Halloran saw a
haggard blonde woman—presumably his wife—peeking at them from the kitchen.