Flying in Shadows (The Black Creek Series, Book 2) (36 page)

Dr. Gray and she had discussed the great publicity the center could earn from televising
the release of the male. They also agreed that sometimes things were meant to be done
in peace. So, instead she waited for Grace to show up with the digital recorder. The
recording would be posted on their social network page and website. And, maybe Rose
would give a copy to Jenna Woith over at WCEL.

The reporter had been instrumental in getting updates and drawings of Miguel Ramirez
onto the local stations, all with her mother out of his sight. Rose wondered how long
her mother would be able to follow Dave around before her job was in jeopardy.

Pride swelled in her heart as she thought about how her mother had held up. She'd
made it through the hospital stay and stitches without sedatives.

She spotted Andy and Grace as they pulled around in separate four-wheelers and realized
that she had her own crutch—her own sturdy, sexy, thoughtful crutch. Glancing down
at the ring on her finger, she sighed at the exaggerated turns her life had made recently.
The flashes of her own eyes looking back at her from her biological father's weren't
as frequent now, although nearly as potent. The shape, the size, the color—there was
no doubt that she carried his blood in her veins, and wished she was as certain of
her declaration negating the importance of whose sperm created her as she once had.

Wes rode in the seat behind Grace, carrying the recorder and tripod. The grass was
still wet with dew as they parked and stepped out to greet her.

Andy held two steaming cups in his hands. Smart guy.

"Good morning." He kissed her softly and long enough to send a chill to her toes but
not long enough to cause Grace and Wes to suggest they get a room.

"That's the second time you've said that today." She smiled slyly and pivoted the
crate to the open field. Lines of thick trees were almost a hundred feet away but
still gave the feeling of an enclosed spot. Narrow trails could be seen, ejecting
periodically around the perimeter and into the woods, and looked like oversized mouse
holes.

"Almost ready." Grace spanned the view. "Got it. We're ready."

Wes held his camera prepared for action shots.

Andy stood on the balls of his feet with unashamed excitement.

Rose opened the door to the crate and stepped back. The bird walked around on the
inside, scraping talons on the plastic as he moved.

She stepped forward, opened the door farther. She murmured, "Come on, boy, you're
free."

Picking up a stick, she gently encouraged him to the opening. He grabbed it, jerking
it from her hands, then crushed it into splinters. Still, it worked. The eagle walked
to the edge of the crate and out onto the trailer of the four-wheeler. Squatting down,
the amazing creature braced for takeoff, then spread his enormous wings and lifted
to the sky. It only took a few flaps of his wings to gain enough altitude to then
use the wind beneath as a glide. Like riding a bike. The vast wing span dwarfed any
other species at the center. He soared in a circle before perching on one of the trees
just outside the perimeter.

"Are you getting this? Can you still see him?" she asked.

Grace smiled without moving her hands or her gaze. "Oh, yeah."

Wes shuttered shot after shot before they all cheered when he took off over the trees.

* * *

Andy decided there was time enough to check on Duncan's house before his meeting with
Dave at the station. As he drove through ruts and potholes, he made a mental note
to order a few more truckloads of road gravel.

When he reached the top of the hill, the first thing he noticed was the excellent
job the framers did with the plywood walls. No fiberboard for this house. The next
was the new bike—shiny black, very expensive and very fast. It sat far enough away
from the crew vehicles that Andy cocked his head. Duncan was in town? The last thing
he noticed was Rose laughing with him around the side of the house.

"Are you here to check on the place or make moves on my girl?" He and Duncan embraced
and smacked each other on their backs with two slaps.

Duncan jerked his head in response. "Both if you're not careful. Rose gave me the
tour, as well as her approval since we'll be neighbors."

Andy looked around. "How'd you get here?"

Rose and Duncan turned in unison and gestured to the motorcycle.

"Nice." Andy walked over to it. "Wait a minute; you took my girl out here on that?
Well, damn you." He shook his head with jealousy.

"I've decided to crash your scheduled party with the detective and the ice princess."
Duncan walked into his future foyer. "What are these two-bys here?"

"Front closet frame." Andy rolled up his sleeves and walked in with him. "Ice princess?"

Andy spoke a mile a minute about the house, what they'd finished and what was next.
Duncan added few words as he explained.

* * *

They made it to the station with time to spare. The front desk receptionist directed
Andy and Rose to the conference room, as there wasn't enough space in Dave's office
for the five of them—six, actually, with Duncan.

Duncan stepped in front of him and opened the door without knocking. At the look Officer
Savage threw him, Andy understood how she earned her nickname. He sensed she wanted
to say something, but she sat back instead and let Dave take lead. He could also tell
Duncan placed himself strategically close to her and sat defiantly, even more so than
he normally would.

"The purpose of the meeting is to update you on the status of Miguel Ramirez and outline
strategies to keep yourself as safe as possible."

He walked to a wall of dry-erase boards and pulled a map down over the top. "Officer
Savage, will take lead for this update." Dave looked to her and nodded with approval.

She wasted no time with greetings. "There have been a number of unconfirmed and false
sightings. However, we believe the reports from Columbus, four days ago, and Detroit,
two, are legit, which means if previous patterns continue, the perp is making his
way east. Both cities were home to suspected victims that have since been relocated.
We assume he spotted the PD surveillance teams and left." She followed in a general
pattern on the map.

Amanda covered her mouth with her hand. Rose ran both hands through her short hair.
Dave sat expressionless.

"He likes to stalk. Not for the sake of stalking, but as a sort of stake out. He's
looking for patterns. Therefore, don't give any. Come and go at different times. Drive
different vehicles. Share rides on days when you can. Change your lunchtime routine.
Mostly, be aware of your surroundings. If he's near, that alone will serve as a deterrent."

When Officer Savage turned, Andy noticed that everyone except he and Duncan had their
faces dropped practically between their legs.

"Holy shit, look at you," she said.

Dave shot up a look at her.

"I apologize, sir, but this isn't helping. I feel if I'm taking lead at his presentation,
I must repeat myself. Look at you. The girl," she gestured to Rose, "is knee-deep
with the guilt that her mother carried this... this burden for the sake of protecting
her. Your ex feels guilty because the perp discovered he has a daughter. And, if I
may, sir, you're the worst. The cloud you've been carrying around is bringing you
down. Amanda didn't want you to know and she's a smart woman. Everyone made their
choices. Bad things happen. How long has it been since you've let her out of your
sight? Does she still even have a job? No offense, ma'am. You've been a valuable,
on-site source. All this misplaced guilt is doing nothing but clouding the facts."

"And what facts would those be, Officer Savage?" Dave stood and asked her.

Andy watched the woman breathe heavily. Past issues? Or just nervous to be given lead.
"The facts are Miguel Ramirez is the one that raped Amanda and produced Rose. Ramirez
is the one who has been taunting her. No one else is to blame."

"Nickie's right." Duncan didn't move an inch, only turned his eyes toward her. "Someone's
going to slip up if they don't clear their conscience. What's done is done." He stood
and walked in front of everyone and right to the map. "And if patterns prevail, he's
almost here."

* * *

The man that hijacked Carolyn Foster's Honda thought she was dead, lying in the backseat,
and she was determined to keep it that way. He'd shot her in the chest, but she was
still breathing, still alive. She was cold and, even though she slipped in and out
of consciousness, she knew she was still bleeding.

When she would wake, she first cried salty tears of fear that she would soon be dead.
Then, she tried to listen to the man's ranting and tried to figure out where he was
taking her. He carried on about bus stations and trains and someone named Mandy. When
he finally mentioned a woman in Buffalo, Carolyn knew she didn't have much longer.

Holding her breath, she remained as still as possible as he parked her car on a busy
street. He didn't bother locking it and tossed the keys on the seat before casually
wiping down the steering wheel and door handles.

She waited as long as she could to make sure he was truly gone before opening the
door and rolling out onto the sidewalk.

* * *

Miguel smoked a cigarette as he walked down the street from the target's townhouse.
It had only been six months since their last little visit, much sooner than he would
have liked to have seen her, but the last two apartments were empty. Hadn't he shown
them pictures of what he did to women who moved without his permission?

He paced nervously, very much unlike him. He was generally smooth, observant and confident.
The wanted posters were too much. The fucking train station placed them so far in
the building a dozen people could have seen him before he was close enough to see
his face, his own face.

He shaved his head and coated himself with skin darkening cream, put in black contacts,
but it was still him. "This is Mandy's doing," he said out loud as he paced, forgetting
all about the townhouse he was staking out. "No one fights back." He took one last
drag, inhaling deeply, before throwing the cigarette in the street. "No one."

He started to walk when he saw an unmarked slow down in front of the place, pull over
and stop. Plain clothed pigs got out and walked around to the back. "Fuck." Miguel
turned and walked slowly toward the hijacked car. He was running low on money, and
it was getting to be a problem.

He would regroup, that was all. He didn't stay out of the light for all these years
on accident. He would make more stops, get new women if he had to. Get an extra large
stash, then alter his appearance surgically. When he rounded the corner to the car,
there were two black and whites and an ambulance. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Turning to backtrack
his backtrack, he saw the unmarked driving slowly, clearly looking for someone—for
him.

Chapter 30

"We have a probable victim in Buffalo." Dave used the station interactive whiteboard
to put up a map of confirmed sightings. "That adds to the one in Columbus, Ohio, and
another in Detroit, Michigan. He hasn't made another hit that we know of until this
woman." He showed a black and white printout of the woman. She hadn't been beaten
but was unconscious. "This is Carolyn Foster. She claims to be the victim of a hijacking
and has described and identified Ramirez as her assailant from a photo lineup. She's
been shot in the chest. The bullet missed internal organs and was removed from beneath
her left lung. This doesn't follow any pattern except the location, but we'll go out
and see what she has to say for ourselves."

* * *

Each from the group made conscious efforts to abide by Officer Savage's advice.

Amanda did, in fact, still have a job when she returned and knew she would. Homeless
shelter manager wasn't a highly sought-after job. She was thankful that was the case.
There was chaos, last-minute decisions, changes, and the need to be flexible. Mostly,
she loved being part of the reason someone may stick it out another day, helping them
find success in some corner of their lives.