The Killing Vision (24 page)

When the body was on the ground, she rolled it over
toward the tree line.  Close by were some dead limbs and brush.  In the eerie
red glow from the taillights, she gathered what loose branches she could and
laid them over the crumpled form.  When she was satisfied, she shut the tailgate
and climbed back into the truck.

At the highway, she turned back toward town.  God,
she needed a drink, and she wasn’t ready to face whatever might be waiting for
her at home.  On an impulse she wheeled into the lot of O’Connell’s Tavern,
turned off the engine, and watched the cars in the lot.  It was still early,
and the rough crowd was at least two hours from showing up.

She grabbed her purse, stepped out of the truck, and
entered the bar.  Some Trace Adkins song was blaring and everyone seemed
preoccupied with conversation.  No one looked at her.  She headed down a narrow
hall to the women’s restroom, stepped inside and locked the door.

A stranger stared back at her in the mirror.  Her
hair was sweaty and tangled and her face was smudged with dirt from the
branches in the woods.  She quickly washed her face in the sink and patted it
dry with some paper towels, then brushed the loose dirt from her shirt; it was
dark blue, so it didn’t appear too dirty.  She ran a brush through her hair and
took a deep breath.  She at least looked presentable now.

Back at the bar, she ordered a rum and Coke and
surveyed the crowd.  Good old boys and rough women, all talking loud, laughing,
having fun.  She took a long sip of her drink and felt the coolness trickle
down her throat.

“Don’t remember seeing you around here before,” a
voice drawled next to her.

She turned and was staring into the intense blue
eyes of a stubbled masculine face.  Short brown hair peeked from beneath his
ball cap, and his t-shirt clung so tightly to his frame she could see the
outline of his chiseled chest.  He was smiling at her.  She smiled back.  “I
don’t come here much,” she said, and took another sip of her rum and Coke.

“Yeah, I think I’d remember you,” he said.

She realized he was flirting with her, and she felt
a surge of adrenaline, like lightning through her body.  She could have him,
she thought.  She could take him outside to the truck right now and climb on
top of him in the seat and go at it.  And maybe when she was done with him,
she’d come back inside and grab another guy.  And then she would go home and
tell Wade all about it.  Wouldn’t that just be fitting?

Instead, she drained her glass, paid for her drink
and left without another word.  Right now she just wanted to get home and stand
in a hot shower. 

She drove back the way she had come, past the hidden
dirt lane, and turned up the road to home.  She saw that Derek was already
home, and she was surprised when she looked at the clock on the dash.  She had
been gone almost six hours.

She stepped out of the truck, suddenly wobbly from
exhaustion and the rum, and was just about to head into the house when she
remembered Abby’s license in her pocket.  She pulled it out, rubbed both sides
of it with her shirt and flicked it into the darkness under the seat.  Let the
bastard explain that one.

And now she stretched in the sun, feeling the warmth
deep in her muscles, and closed her eyes.  Tonight she just might head back to
O’Connell’s.  She might find the guy in the ball cap.  And this time she
wouldn’t run away.

* * *

4:45 PM

Joel had just pulled up to the stoplight when his
cellphone rang.  He looked at the screen and felt a rush when he saw Dana’s
name.  “Hey, girl.”

“How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know.  Okay, I guess.”

“What’s new with Wade?”

He filled her in with what he knew regarding Wade
being denied bail.  “I think something else is going on, though,” he said.  “I
don’t believe Marla’s told me everything.”

“Why would she keep anything from you?”

“I don’t know.”  Truth was, he wondered if Marla was
involved somehow with the girl’s disappearance.  He had seen how Wade treated
her, and if she had the chance to even the score, he thought she might take
it.  “I’m on my way home right now.  I’m going to stop by there and see if she
heard anything else from the attorney today.  I know this has all got to be a
big misunderstanding.”

“Why don’t you let me fix dinner for you tonight?”

He smiled.  The traffic light turned green, and he
pulled on through the intersection.  “That’s awfully sweet of you,” he said. 
“What time do you want me?”

“Why don’t I come over to your place?” she said. 
“I’ll bring all the stuff and fix it there.”

“Sounds good.”

“You like spaghetti?”

“This is sounding better all the time,” he said. 

“I’ll try to be there about six-thirty.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

He hung up the phone stared at the road ahead.  He
could feel the silly grin that was plastered to his face.  He imagined what he
looked like to other drivers and that made him laugh.  Tonight would be just
what he needed to get his mind off everything else.

* * *

5:03 PM

Halloran leaned back in his chair, blew out a breath
and closed his eyes.  Tomorrow they would formally charge Wade Roberts in
connection with Abigail Saunders’ disappearance and the murder of Sarah Jo
McElvoy.  Even though most of their evidence was circumstantial, Halloran was
sure they could get a conviction.  They had not even told Roberts yet; the plan
was to meet with him and his attorney, then hold a press conference and make
the announcement.

It had been a godawful couple of weeks.  No one in
the department had slept much since Sarah Jo’s body had been discovered, and
now that they were all seeing some light at the end of the tunnel, a sense of
relief had swept through the office.  People seemed a little happier, a little
friendlier.  It was almost like Christmas.

“Taking a nap?”

Halloran opened his eyes.  Chapman stood in the
doorway with a smirk on his freckled face.  “I could sleep for two weeks,”
Halloran said.

“I know what you mean,” Chapman told him.

Halloran rubbed his eyes.  “I really hope this is
the end of it.  The only thing that would make this any sweeter would be a full
confession.”

“Don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Chapman said.

“You’re probably right.”

“Hey, how about you come over to our house for
dinner tonight?”

“I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not?” Chapman said.  “I’ll call Sheri and tell
her you’re coming over.  I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Honestly, all Halloran really wanted to do was go
home, strip down to his boxers, and relax in front of the television with his
cat and a cold Bud Light.  But he hated to turn down any invitation for a free
home-cooked meal.  “Okay, you twisted my arm.”

Chapman gave him a wide grin.  “Great.  You head on
over there, and I’ll call Sheri and tell her to meet you at the front door with
a monster margarita.”

Halloran laughed.   “Just a beer will do.”

* * *

5:10 PM

Joel pulled the cable truck into Wade’s driveway and
immediately knew something was different.  Marla was sprawled in a lawn chair
on the porch, and you didn’t have to be psychic to know she had been drinking. 
Her eyes were glassy and unfocussed, and her face was colored with a flush Joel
knew wasn’t sunburn.  “What’s up?” he said, sliding out of the truck.

“Not a goddamned thing,” Marla said, and Joel winced
at her slurred speech.  “How’s my favorite brother-in-law?”

“Any more news from Wade?” Joel asked.  “You talk to
the attorney again today?”

“No.”  She turned up her glass and Joel caught the
strong whiff of alcohol.  Marla had evidently been at this for a long while.

“Did you try to call him?”

“What for?  I’m sure he’ll call if he knows
anything.”

Joel shrugged.  “Okay, whatever.”  He turned to go. 
“Well, let me know if you hear anything else.”

“Hey, Joel,” Marla said, “when all this is over, we
should go on a trip.  You and me and Derek.  All three of us.”

“Sure.”

“We should go to Disney World.  I always wanted to
take Derek to Disney World.”

“Whatever you want.”

“We’d have a real good time,” she said.  She reached
over and grabbed his arm.

And suddenly he saw it all.  He saw the struggle
with Abby, Marla strangling her with the iron cord, then dumping her on a
secluded road.  He saw the years of beatings and verbal lashings from Wade, the
brutality and cruelty, and he knew his fear was real.  She had set Wade up. 
Had wanted to see him punished.  And she had done it the only way that would
keep him from retaliating against her.  And she was proud of it.  She had used
Wade’s own indiscretions against him.

He backed off from her, staring at her.  He was sure
his face gave away what he knew, but Marla was too drunk to notice.  “I’ve got
to go,” he managed to sputter.  He whirled around and headed to the truck.

Inside the cab, he pulled Halloran’s card from his
wallet and dialed the police station with shaking fingers.  But the call was
answered by Chapman, and Joel remembered he was the younger detective he had
seen yesterday.  “Is the lieutenant in?” Joel asked.

“Already gone for the day,” Chapman said.  “Anything
I can do for you?”

“This is Joel Roberts.  I’ve got some. . .
information about my brother’s case.  It’s urgent.  I need to talk to him.”

“Tell you what,” Chapman said, “I’m getting ready to
leave here myself.  How about I just swing by your place on my way home and
talk to you there?”

“Sure,” Joel said.  Talking to Chapman surely would
be just as good as talking to Halloran.

* * *

5:37 PM

Halloran pulled into the drive at Chapman’s modest
brick house.  Even though the grass needed to be mowed and a couple of toys
littered the lawn, the place looked comfortable and homey.  He thought of his tiny
apartment across town, with no one waiting there for him but Mel, and he
suddenly felt old and worn-out.  He knew he was just tired.  After tomorrow he
would finally be able to get some rest.

Sheri met him at the door before he could even ring
the bell.  “Come on in,” she said, and stepped back to let him enter.  She was
blond and petite and moved with the grace of a pixie. 

Halloran sniffed the air.  “Something smells good.”

“Enchiladas,” she said.

He looked about for Chapman’s daughter.  “Where’s Isabel?”

“Taking a nap,” Sheri said.  “She’ll probably wake
up just in time to be cranky for dinner.”

Halloran followed her into the kitchen.  “Hope you
don’t mind me coming over like this.”

“Not a problem,” Sheri said.  She stirred the rice
on the stove.  “I’m used to John bringing home strays.”  They laughed, and then
she whirled around.  “Oh, I forgot.  He just called and said he’s going to be a
little while.  Said he would tell you about it when he got here.”  She opened
the fridge.  “You want a beer?  You can relax for a while in the den until
dinner’s ready.”

“Sounds great, thanks.”  He smiled.  Sheri certainly
knew how to take care of a man. 

* * *

5:57 PM

Joel opened the door just as the detective stepped
up onto the porch.  “Saw your car pull in,” he said.  “Thanks for coming out
here.”

“My pleasure,” Chapman said.  He stepped into the
kitchen and looked around.

Joel had been tidying up since he got home,
preparing for Dana, so at least the place didn’t look too bad.  He motioned
toward the table.  “Have a seat.”

“Thanks.”  Chapman slid into a chair and pulled out
a small memo pad.

“Would you like something to drink?” Joel asked. 
“Coke or water or anything?”

Chapman licked his lips.  “I’d love some water if it’s
not too much trouble.”

Joel pulled two bottles from the fridge and offered
one to Chapman.  “I never drink the tap water,” he said.  “When I was growing
up we had well water, and it was good and sweet.  Then when the county came
along and put in lines, the water always had a funny taste after that.”

Chapman unscrewed the cap and drank thirstily.  “Oh,
that’s great,” he said.  “Been dry all day.”  He set the bottle down and pulled
a pen from his jacket pocket.  “So what did you need to talk with us about?”

Joel hesitated.  He wasn’t quite sure how to go
about this without sounding crazy.  “It’s my sister-in-law,” he said.  “I think
she had something to do with that Saunders girl’s disappearance.”

Chapman’s expression became puzzled.  “What makes
you think that?”

This was where Joel had no idea what to say.  He
could tell the truth and risk being thought of as a nut, a hindrance to law
enforcement.  Or he could lie.  And even if he lied, he would still be doing
the right thing in the end.  Right?  He looked at Chapman.  “She told me,” he
said.