Dance For The Devil (28 page)

Cari frowned. “I’m not sure I follow you.”

“As bona fide cult members, we can get any weapon we desire.”

She was beginning to understand. “Untraceable weapons. Very nasty and highly illegal.”

“Don’t forget immoral.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Probably more than I should. After all the waiting and worrying, it feels good to be doing something proactive.”

She began to mumble softly and he looked at her quizzically. “Now what are you doing?” Jake asked.

“I’m chanting, channelling my energy.”

“Why?”

“Call it my way of being proactive.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Of all the girls, Gina was, surprisingly, the most effective in dealing with Amy’s emotional and physical pain. “Never forget,” Gina instructed hoarsely, “none of this is your fault.”

The crying jag intensified. “If I’d been better, this never would have happened. My dad wouldn’t have sent me here.”

Gina snorted. “That’s the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard. Your father never sent you here – you were kidnapped, idiot. Set up from the very beginning.”

“What do you mean?”

“I overheard Vandercamp talking, after I had the baby. He thought I was asleep, or hell, maybe he didn’t care if I heard or not, figuring I’d never get out of this shithole alive. Anyways, h
e says to that snooty broad he’s married to, old-plastic-face –”

“Hey!” Jason cut in, “that’s my mother you’re talking about.”

Gina shot him a look. “No she ain’t. You’re adopted, asshole.”

He bristled, caught between defending his mother and the loathing he’d been wallowing in. “Suzanne isn’t so bad,” he stated finally, his voice lame. “She’s always been good to me. She’s the only mother I’ve ever known.”

“Yeah, whatever. Anyway, she was complaining about having to move here, how it’s too small, how she can’t see any of her friends for a while, and how she can’t even find a decent hairdresser, and Vandercamp cuts her off, telling her this whole fucking mess is her fault, that if she hadn’t killed that dumb broad everything would be hunky-dory.

“Then she shoots back that it’s his fault because he’s the one who’s been so fucking obsessed with his twisted revenge scheme, and she did him a favor by doing the bitch in. Any idea what they’re talking about, pretty boy?”

“Don’t call me that,” Jason snapped.

“Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“God, you’re a nasty bitch.”

“Yeah? You try living in a dungeon for two years and see how nice you turn out. Hey,” she added, tapping her head comically, “looks like you’re going to get the chance.”

Amy started crying harder and Charise stood up, wringing her hands. “Come on, you guys, stop bickering. It’s bad enough here without you guys hollering every two seconds, practically trying to kill each other. Look, it’s even bothering Lauren.”

They all stopped and looked at Lauren, rocking back and forth in the corner. “No,” Gina said after a minute. “Lauren is the same space
-cadet as always.”

Charise stroked Lauren’s hair. “No, she’s listening, aren’t you Lauren?” Lauren remained mute, rocking steadily. “Well, it’s bugging me, and I know it’s driving Amy crazy.”

Amy stopped crying. She stood up, her face full of resolve. “Charise is right. We must band together and find a way out of here. Maybe if we stick our heads together –”

“I gave up on that pipedream ages ago, babe. No way out, except for death.”

“But that was the other place, maybe this one is different. And we have Jason to help us.”

Gina snorted, ready to spout a zinger, then held back.

“Look,” Amy continued, wiping her runny nose with the back of her sleeve. “Mr. Vandercamp will have second thoughts about keeping Jason here. He really cares about Jason, and he was just steamed. Maybe Jason can pretend he’s really sorry, then when he gets out, he can send for help. Would you do that Jason?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’d do anything to help you, Amy, to help all of you.” He turned, saying, “I’m sorry, Gina. I knew my Dad – uh, Gil,” he correct
ed, still reeling from the revelation he wasn’t the biological child of the man he’d loved and loathed his entire life. “I knew Gil kept girls in the basement, but I never knew it was this bad. I swear. I guess, well, I guess I tried not to think about it at all, and it never seemed real.”

“Save it, pretty boy,” Gina said, but her voice was softer. “Like I said to the princess here, none of this is your fault, or hers, or mine. It’s all Vandercamp’s. If we don’t place the blame where it truly lies, then we’ll all go crazy with might-have-beens.” She spared a glance at Lauren, who’d traded her rocking for staring blankly at the wall. “Then again, maybe crazy isn’t so bad.”

Jason watched as Gina unconsciously rubbed her stomach. “Gina? Your baby is safe. I took her away and hid her in the woods and called the police. They should have found her by now.”

She turned to him, her fourteen-year-old eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It’s a girl
?”

“Yeah, and she’s beautiful. Looks like you, Gina.”

“Thanks, pretty boy,” she whispered. Then she went and sat beside Lauren, taking the other girl in her arms and holding her.

**

Benny Carmichael replaced the phone in the cradle, cracking the first smile in what seemed like days. After a twenty-minute search of Goldstream Park, they’d located the infant exactly where the informant described. She was being examined at Victoria General and the consensus was very good. The swaddling had protected her from the elements, and aside from dehydration, the infant was in remarkably good form. It appeared an angel had been looking over that one.

**

The other part of the search turned up a more gruesome find: a severed hand, presumably female, found at an old church-site deep in the park. Very fresh, zero decomposition, excellent chance of matching prints if the victim had priors.

“Okay,” Carmichael said thoughtfully to the team assembled before him. “Here’s the plan. We’re going to find Vandercamp by putting him in a pressure cooker and turning the setting up to high. Let’s make life so unbearable for him that he’ll be
g us to take him into custody.

“First
, we make his face more well-known than the American president. Splash his picture over television and newspapers. Physical descriptions of him and his family, and of the Montclaire girl, to the radio stations.

“Then we hit him in the pocketbook. Shut down Marvelworks, seize his assets. He’ll have plenty of cash on hand, of course, but it’ll scare him just the same.

“Next, we attack his social connections. Make people afraid to go anywhere near him. Lean heavily on every suspected cult member and hangout we know about. I want Vandercamp painted into a corner, running scared. Let’s flush him out.”

A junior officer put forth the question: “Won’t that cause him to go deeper into hiding?”

“Perhaps, but at this point, we have no alternative. We’ve been pussyfooting around for days, hoping for a break while Vandercamp’s terrorizing the city. We’ve got two missing kids, a severed hand which probably belongs to one very dead female, and an infant intended for sacrificial use. This is one sick asshole we’re dealing with, and by all accounts he’s intelligent, which makes our job harder. Maybe if we put an unbearable amount of pressure on him, he’ll start moving, or at the very least, make a mistake. If we’re lucky, he’ll panic.”

“It’s like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.”

“Somewhat, but our location works for us. The island will be hemming him in on all sides, and someone, somewhere, will know where Vandercamp is. I suggest we start at Marvelworks, somebody is bound to know something.”

“But will they talk?”

“With the right incentive.”

“Like?”

“Like immunity from prison. Any luck locating Jake Montclaire and Cari Valentine?”

“Nope, those two have disappeared. Haven’t returned our messages, empty house. What are they up to?”

Carmichael tapped his pencil on the desk. “That’s interesting because I need to bring Montclaire in for questioning. Got some unanswered questions about his housekeeper’s death.”

“Think he’s got something to do with it?”

“A few loose ends. Like, why didn’t he tell me his housekeeper had a large accidental life insurance policy, with him named beneficiary?”

“How large?”

“Very. We’re talking millions.”

**

No way out, except the window. At first it appeared inoperable, but was only jammed from lack of use. It creaked eerily as he swung it open, the ancient hinges protesting crankily. Skeeter shimmied his skinny body through the narrow crack, then carefully closed it back up.

He was a long way up, higher than the nearby trees. A quick glance down
ward confirmed his suspicions, and for an awful moment, the earth swayed dizzily below him. Bile backed up his throat and he forced it down, squeezing his eyes shut.
No different from climbing that big old oak back in Toronto,
he told himself.
You can do this.

The sick feeling abated without diminishing entirely, and gripping the cobbled roof, he moved crablike across the shingles, hiding behind a turret.

Rat’s voice, loud and clear. “I know you’re there, you slimy puke.”

Skeeter took a deep breath and froze.

“Don’t make me come out after you.” Silence. “If I have to come out there, I’m gonna push you off.” Ribald laughter as Rat’s unseen companion found this sentiment apparently hilarious.

A creaking sound, the old window kicking up its protest again. “Oh, fuck, it’s too narrow.” Rat’s voice holding something akin to relief.

“You gotta get the little bastard or your ass is toast.”

“I ain’t going out on no fuckin’ roof. It’s gotta be a hundred feet off the ground. Fuckin’ suicide.”

“Yep,” the companion agreed. “Toast with marmalade.”

“Would you
shut-the-fuck-up
and let me think? I know, I got a pellet gun in the back of the car. Let’s say we go down to the parking lot and shoot the little bastard off.”

The companion laughed nastily. “Good idea. I get first shot.”

**

“She’s not coming
.”

“Stop fretting
,” Jake remarked. “She takes her coffee break here every morning. Maybe her new boss is more demanding and she’s running late.”

Cari snorted. “More demanding than you? Hah. You’re a virtual slave driver.”

“On what basis did you form that opinion?”

“On the basis
that we’ve been waiting here forty minutes and you won’t let me have a cup of tea.”

“You’re a little cranky without your morning cuppa,” he teased.

“Every girl needs her vice.” Her eyes narrowed testily.

“You really need to cut down on that stuff, you’re addicted.”

“Me? That’s rich, coming from a guy who drinks three dozen cups of coffee per day.”

Now he was openly smiling. It occurred to her she could cast just the tiniest spell to get back at him. Make him squirm a little. Itchy. Nothing serious, just mimic a mild case of poison ivy. Or fleas. Itching that would magically disappear the moment she took her first sip of blessed tea.

“See what I mean?” he goaded. “You’re
terribly cranky, classic sign of withdrawal. Next you’ll get the shakes.”

“From tea? I hardly think tea is addictive, especially herbal tea.”

“Depends what the herbs are. I read an article that said – oh, here she comes. Now, just like we planned, okay?”

They remained hidden behind the wooden pillar until Lisa had taken her seat and spread out her
People
magazine. After she had been served coffee, Jake sprang forward, sitting beside her. Cari watched for a moment, to be certain that Lisa wouldn’t bolt, then quickly ran across the street and into Marvelworks.
Ten minutes,
she thought. Jake said ten minutes. She would have to work fast. She checked her red wig one last time. Not much of a disguise, but on the chance that Vandercamp had alerted staff to watch for her, it might buy a few minutes.

**

Lisa looked up in surprise. Several emotions flickered across her face and her body tensed, as if ready to flee.

“Relax,” Jake said, “I only want to talk to you for a moment.”

“I could get into a lot of trouble.”

“I know, that’s why I picked this coffee shop. I know you always come here, alone. It should be safe here.”

“What do you want, Jake?”

He
raked his hand through his hair. “Help, I guess, maybe information. I’m grasping at straws, Lisa. I don’t know who else to ask.”

“Why me?”

“We always worked well together, didn’t we? I always played fair with you.”

“Yes, you were the best boss I
ever had. This new guy’s a real creep. Thinks my ass is his private perk and I’ve got the bruises to prove it. And that’s not the worst of it...” She played with her coffee cup. “Okay, Jake, I’ll give you two minutes, but no more, and I won’t promise you anything.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. My kids are missing, Lisa. First Amy, now Skeeter.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“Vandercamp took them.”

She took a deep breath but remained silent.

“He’s gone into hiding, Lisa. I need to know where he is.” When she remained
tight-lipped, his voice cracked, full of anguish. “Please, Lisa, I’m
begging
you. If you know anything at all... anything. Come on, Lisa. You know my kids, know they don’t deserve this. If he’s got a problem he should take it out on me, not on innocent children.”