Deficiency (32 page)

"Well, I'm trying. He hasn't responded to the page yet. You want to continue holding?"

"Absolutely," Terri said. "We'll hold until hell freezes over."

She heard the secretary blow air through her lips and then the elevator music began again, periodically interrupted by messages and information from the district attorney's office, the county clerk's office, and the tax assessor's office.

"He's busy composing what new lies he's going to tell you," Curt said.

"My next call will be to the newspapers and radio and television stations," she threatened.

It was nearly fifteen minutes before the secretary came back on to say, "Please hold for Mr. Dennis."

Terri sat up.

"Before you start, let me tell you I've been on the phone all this time with Dr. Stanley's people," Will Dennis began.

"And?"

There was a truly pregnant pause.

"Apparently, we sent Dr. Stanley back in a body bag and not, what shall I call him, It?"

"What? How could that be?"

"You know he's a perfect duplication. If I had any doubt, which I didn't at the time, you would have ended it when you described how you had struck him in the forehead. Both of them had head bruises, and practically in the same place. He wore Stanley's clothing. He responded to everything the way I expected Doctor Stanley to respond. There just wasn't any way to tell," he claimed, his voice now high-pitched.

"What do you intend to do?" she asked.

"I'm working on it with the higher-ups," he said. "They're bringing in everyone they can. There hasn't been a manhunt like this since we went after bin Laden."

Curt, who was sharing the earpiece, pulled back and shook his head.

"Tell him, they have to have a press conference and let the public know it all," she told Will Dennis.

"It's not my decision, Doc. I've made that suggestion myself. It's out of my hands."

"It's not out of mine," she said.

"Nothing's changed in that regard, Terri. You do that and they'll paint you into a corner. They…"

"They've lost control now, Will. If you care at all about the people who elected you, and the people who are vulnerable to this, you'll take a leadership position, I'll stand beside you," she said. "We'll do it together."

He was silent a moment.

"Will?"

"Let me think about that, Terri. You might be right," he admitted. "I'll call you later today. I want to hear what they've got to say, what they're doing. Okay? I'll call you this afternoon."

"I'm not back home. I'm at Hyman's cabin in Willowemac. I'm supposedly taking a much-needed rest with Curt."

"Understood," he said. "I know the place. It's peaceful. I envy you."

"Yeah? Well, I'm not feeling very restful at the moment, Will."

Curt smiled.

"Squeeze the bastard," he cheered.

"If this goes on, Will, you will be the one blamed."

"Is that a threat?"

"Just a clearly thought-out realization, Will. You have the information and you're sitting on it and another person is dead, and a teenager to boot."

He was quiet.

Curt's smile widened as he nodded and whispered, "Yeah, right on."

"I'll call you later," Will said. The line went dead. She held the receiver a moment and then slowly cradled it.

"Maybe, I should go back to the office," she said.

"To do what? You're only an hour away, baby. Seconds away from reaching the media. Will Dennis knows that in spades now. We might as well go fishing. You've done what you can and very well, too," he added.

"I guess you're right," she said after a moment's thinking.

"Sure I'm right. It's like any negotiation. You deliver your best assault and then you let the other side stew. A watched pot never boils," he added.

She smiled.

"Who told you that one?"

"My grandmother always used it, and Dad never forgot it. He loved to move on to another case and leave the first one hanging there."

"Yes, well I don't know if this one is hanging or seeping," she said.

He leaned over to kiss her.

"You'll know soon enough," he said. "C'mon, I'll put the worms on the hooks."

She laughed and followed him out. He had their fishing poles set against the railing and a basket between them.

"What's in there? And don't tell me worms," she said quickly.

"No, some wine, some cheese, a loaf of that French bread. A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou beneath me in the wilderness. Ah love," he moaned and she poked him.

"Curt Levitt, since when did you become the romantic?"

"It was that smack on my head," he told her.

"In that case I'll bop you every night."

"Big talker," he teased, kissed her on the cheek and started for the boat. She watched him a moment and then followed. Despite it all she couldn't help feeling guilty about enjoying anything. She should be doing more, she thought, only she had no idea what it was she could do now.

Pick on the unsuspecting fish, she thought and hurried to catch up to Curt.

He sat in his vehicle and watched the front entrance of the county building. At one point he saw the two men who had accompanied Will Dennis to the motel and handled the cleanup. They went into the building and a little over an hour later, they emerged, but without Will Dennis.

He wasn't patient, but he looked patient sitting there in the car, calm. No one going by paid the slightest attention to him, he thought, actually, to us. He actually felt invisible. Finally, Will Dennis came out of the building. He was accompanied by two sheriff's patrolmen. They stopped at the bottom of the steps and spoke for a while. Then the patrolmen went to their vehicle and Will Dennis walked around and into the parking lot where his county vehicle was parked. He got into it and drove out.

Following at a safe distance behind, he could see Will using his car phone. He drove a good fifteen minutes before pulling into a self-service gas station about five miles or so past what was once the Monticello Trotters Race Track. Restaurants and gas stations, as well as motels had sprouted around it, but it all looked in hibernation now. There was nowhere near the bustling activity that characterized the area in its heyday.

Ghosts, he thought to himself. This place is haunted by its past. Memories lingered in old road signs that made promises no longer kept, hawking this bungalow colony or that small hotel, tempting visitors with now faded pictures of beautiful lakes and emerald-green golf courses. We've got to do our business and move on, he thought. There was an inherent danger to camping out in cemeteries. The dead might enjoy your company.

He pulled up behind Will Dennis, who was again on his cellular, talking while he filled his gas tank. Dennis had his back to him. He got out slowly, fingering the pistol he had used back in the motel owner's apartment. There was only one other gas customer, and he was finished, closing his tank and getting into his car. He watched him drive away. Will Dennis still had his back to him, still talked on the phone.

"Okay then," he said, "I'll be there in an hour."

He flipped his phone closed and turned to reach for the gas hose, which had stopped its flow. For a moment, probably because of the black hair, he didn't recognize him. He even flashed a smile and said, "Just about done."

"Leave it," he told him.

"Pardon me?" Will said. He stared and then rose slowly as his eyes began to reflect recognition.

He pulled out the pistol.

"Leave it," he repeated. "Just walk to my car."

Will Dennis looked about frantically.

"Move," he ordered firmly.

"Look, there are people who can help you. They're here now, and I was just going to meet with them, actually. Why don't you follow me in your car and…"

He pulled the hammer back on the pistol.

"Walk to my car or die here," he said.

Will nodded and started toward his car. He backed up to let him pass. The driver's door was still open.

"Get in behind the wheel," he commanded as he opened the rear door. "Go on."

"What do you want?" Will asked.

He smiled.

"I told you that before. I want more. Now get in and close the door."

Will did and he got in behind him and held the pistol close to the back of his head.

"Imagine," he said, "your brains splattered on that windshield. What a mess of thoughts and memories, huh?"

"I can help you," Will said. "Really. I'm on the phone with everyone involved. We have a solution."

"Oh, I know there is a solution. I know you can help me." He stopped smiling and added, "I want you to take me to her. Go on."

"Take you to whom?"

"The doctor, Dr. Barnard, the one who could make trouble for us. Go on."

"But…"

"Drive or decorate the windshield," he said putting the barrel of the gun against the back of his head.

Will dropped the shift into drive and pulled around his own car, looking at it longingly, as longingly as a man who was being swept past his last hope for rescue at sea.

"There's no need for this," Will said. "You're a very valuable person. They want to take you back, to help you, to make sure you're healthy and everything you need is provided."

"I know what I need and I know how to get it," he said.

Will thought.

"I don't know where she is," he said.

"Then make a call and find out. You can find out anything you need to find out, and believe me," he added poking him sharply just where his neck and head joined, "you need to find this out."

"She's at work for sure," Will said.

"See. You're screwing up already. I know she's on vacation."

"Well, then she's gone. She's out of the area."

"She's only away for a few days. She can't be far. If she is gone, you are gone," he said. "Either you will die or she will die today. Who will it be?" he asked.

"Why do you have to kill her, or me for that matter?"

"We've got to protect ourselves."

"We?"

"Yes, we," he said.

"Look, if you're including me in this, I want to assure you…"

"We're not," he said.

Will gazed into the rearview mirror and saw him, his eyes fixed on the back of his head. He's mad, he thought. Whatever he is, he's insane.

"This won't help you," he said. "They won't take you back if you do something like this. I'm the chief law enforcement officer in the county!"

"That doesn't matter to us. We don't want to go back now. We want to go forward. Axe we going to her or what?" He leaned closer.

"Okay, okay, we're going to her," Will said.

"We knew you would make that choice," he said smiling. "We know you as well as you know yourself."

Will Dennis shuddered with a chill that brought him back to his childhood days when he first confronted something horrifying in a movie. He had gone with his older brother and his older brother's friends. His older brother wasn't supposed to take him, but he had to watch him that day and he wasn't about to be stuck in some G-rated film. He confronted his first vampire on the screen and cringed at the sight of blood dripping from those long, sharp teeth.

The creature seating behind him, for that was the only way he could think of him, a creature, revived those images. Would he lean forward any moment and sink his teeth into his neck, drawing out some precious nutrient and leaving him in mortal agony? Will Dennis thought his position had brought him face to face with some pretty cruel and violent people, but he always had the sense that he and the force behind him had the upper hand. They were there to punish, and punish they would. This was different. No court, no laws, no objections and motions to strike mattered. He was as helpless as the women who had fallen victim.

"You understand, I hope, that I was cooperating with your people. I've kept your existence secret, just like they wanted, and like I'm sure you want, right?"

"What did they promise you?" he asked.

"Me? I just do what I have to do to help. It's all for the better, isn't it? I mean as I understand it, you will be the answer to all diseases and illness, to aging itself. You're quite a wonderful thing."

Will saw him turn his eyebrows in. He had him thinking.

"You're absolutely right about this," Will continued, excited by the apparent breakthrough. "You've got to stop this Dr. Barnard. She doesn't have the same view of things. She's threatening to make trouble. She threatened me on the phone just an hour or so ago, in fact."

"Oh?"

"She said she was going to go public and expose you. She was going to put the blame on me. Actually, when you came up to me at the gas station just now, I was talking with your people, deciding how we would handle her."

"Well, now you know how we'll handle her."

"Yeah, right. That's good. She's at this cabin that belongs to the old doctor she works with, Templeman. It's on the lake, in the woods. We're about forty minutes away. I know exactly where it is. I've fished on that lake, hunted around it, too. I grew up here, you know."

"That's nice," he said.

Will actually felt himself relax.

"Now she's not alone. I'm giving you important information here. She's with her fiancé, this lawyer, Curt Levitt. He's the one who you, I mean, who Dr. Stanley, confronted. You've got to be careful."

"Oh, I'm careful," he said. "Drive on and keep talking. It's better than the radio."

Will saw him smiling. Was he really satisfied or was he toying with him. Keep talking? Yes, that was the way to handle people like him.

I'll slip out of this, he thought. Somehow, I'll survive.

He drove on and he kept talking.

Although the day began quite overcast, the cloud cover thinned and weakened until direct sunlight wove through the gauzy layers and brightened the water on the lake. In the distance it looked like ice to Terri. The wind had died down and the boat barely rocked now. She was lying back in Curt's arms. They had just eaten their cheese and bread and had nearly finished the bottle of Merlot. She felt cozy and warm as she leaned back. He leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead and move off some strands of her hair. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.