Night Eyes (The Detective Temeke Crime Series Book 2) (9 page)

Temeke wasn’t looking forward to meeting the old trout and he wasn’t looking forward to telling her there was still no sign of her son. As he recalled, Mrs. Raine Oliver rarely went out in public and kept her family life private. According to her picture, she had shoulder length hair and a warm smile. A former ballet dancer born in Belgium with a striking resemblance to a well-known 1950’s actress. She was a surgeon now.

Temeke showed the housekeeper his badge and glanced sideways at the taped off living room as they entered the house. Walking into the library, he was suddenly aware his mouth was hanging open. This Mrs. Raine Oliver was no old trout, a petite brunette in her late thirties, her bust in the early forties. She was half the Mayor’s age, sleek black pants and heels sharper than a bayonet.

Temeke squared his shoulders and held out a hand. “Detective Temeke and this is my partner, Malin Santiago,” he said.

She ran two narrowed eyes down Temeke’s shirt until they stopped at his belt. It was the gun that frightened her, or the badge, he couldn’t decide which.

“Have you found him?” she said, gaze shifting from Temeke to Malin. There was the hint of a foreign accent and a puppy dog expression that seemed to turn on and off at the drop of a hat.

“No, ma’am, but―”

“You were only, what… half an hour behind them.”

“More like a couple of hours, ma’am,” Temeke said, sitting next to Malin on the couch. He tried to keep his voice just above a whisper. “We’ll find him.”

“What if you don’t? What if you never find him?”

It was a good question, although Temeke was reluctant to voice it. He knew they would find Adam, he just didn’t know what condition the boy would be in when they did. “The police are combing the area now.”

“The area?” Raine tilted her head.

“The Bosque, the river, further if need be.” He didn’t want to tell her the kidnapper had a nice truck and might be headed for the Arizona border. He noted the tight nod and a pair of arched eyebrows that could only have been achieved with a stencil.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“We start the search at the house, ma’am, then spiral out,” Malin said, making a circle with a finger. “Then we ask the neighbors since someone might have seen something. And then that circle gets a little wider.”

Hopefully, not into outer space, Temeke thought, since they’d suffered a few budget cuts recently. “Your boy’s smart. Got a good head on his shoulders.”

“I need to get back to―”

“Your husband, I understand. And how is the Mayor?”

“Unconscious.”

“He’ll come round.”

“Sometimes they don’t, detective.”

Temeke caught her frown and the silence after her words. “Let’s talk about Sunday night. Let’s talk about what you saw.”

Raine gave a weak smile and looked up at the ceiling. “It was around eleven o’clock when I got home. There weren’t any lights on… there’s always a light on. I left my coat on the chair, left my purse on the table. And then I heard something. A whimpering… I thought it was Murphy. Our dog. I thought he’d been shut in the kitchen.”

Raine began to breathe loudly through her nose. “I was scared… really scared. The sound was coming from the living room. I turned the light on… saw Bill on the floor. He was tied up and there was blood on the side of his face. I called 911 at around eleven ten… pressed my scarf to his ear. The ambulance came after that.”

“How did you know it was eleven ten?” Malin asked.

“It was on the lock screen.”

“Of your cell phone?” Malin caught the nod and continued. “Was there anything else that struck you as odd?” 

“The front door. It was open. The dog was gone.”

“He might have been in the back yard.”

“No, he wouldn’t have been in the back yard. Bill always brings him in at nine.”

“Maybe he ran off to a neighbor’s house.”

“I think he ran after Adam,” Raine said, staring hard at Malin. “They’re close you see.”

Temeke was glad to hear it. He placed one hand on the plain brown envelope Hackett had left. “Do you know anyone living in Forest Road?” he asked.

“Placitas?”

“No, the one in Catron county. Over by Gila River.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“You received a phone call from someone claiming to have taken your son.” He watched her nod, watched her fingers as they curled over each knuckle. “We traced it to that address. Did you recognize the voice?”

Raine cleared her throat, eyes grazing past him to the door. “No… he just said Adam was with him.”

“Did you believe him?”

“I had no reason not to.”

“He could have been a crank caller. Could have been a neighbor.”

“We don’t speak to our neighbors. We don’t even know them.”

The comment was odd in light of a statement received from Eli Sandoval, a neighbor who regularly fished with the mayor. “Did you ask to speak to Adam?” Temeke saw the shake of her head, the downturned eyes. “To find out if he was still alive?”

“Do you know what it’s like when the police take away your personal belongings? Look for fingerprints, tape off rooms so we can no longer use them. Do you know what it’s like to stare out of your son’s window and plead with God to find your child? Do you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I don’t remember what I said, Detective. It was all a blur.”

“I believe you said ‘I understand.’” None of it was a blur to Temeke. He’d listened to the tape recording five times. “Just so you know, he’s got the money. There was no exchange. That’s why we don’t have Adam, Mrs. Oliver.”

He watched the blank stare, the sagging mouth and wondered what on earth she was thinking. Whether it crossed her mind that the kidnap could have been linked to the Ringmaster. It had certainly crossed his.

“You will find him?” she asked.

“The police are doing everything they can, ma’am. Did you also hear about the helicopter… the one that came down in Gila National Forest last night?” Temeke conjured an image of pilot Danny Michael peppered with shot and shrapnel as he studied that smooth brow. “It was on the six o’clock news this morning.”

She returned Temeke’s look with a scorcher of her own. “My husband was shot, detective. I was up all night at the hospital watching
him
not the TV!” Then came the puppy dog look. “They don’t know if he’ll live.”

Temeke was silent for a while. There had been a choice. Stay by her husband’s bedside in the hospital or stay at home waiting for the kidnapper to call. He would have chosen the latter.

He opened the envelope and pulled out a transparent evidence bag. Inside was a badly burned piece of paper, the corner of which was barely readable. He slid it across the table. “This was fished out of the fireplace. Seen it before?”

She squinted at first, eyes flicking from one side to the other as she read the few remaining words. Then she opened her mouth to say something and seemed to think better of it.

“No, I’ve never seen it before.”

In the morning the camp fire was flat on the ground and there was hardly any smell to it. The flames had long since died and all that was left was a patch of gray grass and fish bones.

The rabbit had been packed with onions to keep the flesh moist, so Ramsey said. A slow roast cooked on a spit until the outer flesh was the color of a baked red potato. It tasted like ham.

Ramsey was hunched over the fire, flicking through some photographs of a girl in a bikini. Snapped them back in his backpack when he saw Adam looking.

“What’s that?” Adam said.

“Nothing.”

“It’s porn isn’t it?”

“No it isn’t porn. You can see it’s not porn.”

“It was a girl with hardly anything on.”

“I don’t look at porn.”

“I bet you did when you were my age.”

Ramsey shook his head and something between sadness and fear crossed his face. He looked down then as if he was ashamed.

“Why do you keep looking at her?”

“She was special.”

“Is she dead?”

“No, she’ll never be dead. Always have a little of her in me and a little of me in her. That’s how it is with love. But you wouldn’t know about that. You wouldn’t know about girls.”

“I know they’re crazy. They don’t say what they mean.”

“It’s a two-way street.” Ramsey gave him that sideways smile. “Someone you like?”

Adam nodded. He liked Runa the girl from Bombay. He liked her long sleek hair and brown eyes. Trouble was, she was in seventh grade and smiled at him maybe once a year. What chance did a sixth grader have? Adam sensed those eyes digging deep into his head like Ramsey could see everything inside.

“Girls take most things a guy says and rotate it a hundred and eighty degrees,” Ramsey said. “If you tell her you’ll call her later, what exactly does
later
mean? Because to a girl it means that night or tomorrow. And you… you’ll be thinking… eh, maybe after soccer practice or maybe next Tuesday. And she’ll be checking her messages every ten minutes and if it’s not your number on her caller ID, chances are she’ll ignore you next time she sees you.”

Adam scrunched up his face. “That’s dumb.”

“They operate on a first-come, first-served basis. If you tell them you’re going to call on Tuesday and don’t, and then she goes out on Friday and meets a new man… poof! You’re history.”

“Boys aren’t like that are they?”

“Depends. I could say to a woman, ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’ And what I actually mean is ‘I’ve heard all your dirty little secrets and I’d like to include myself in a few.”

Adam felt the chuckle deep in his belly and when it came up he doubled over like he’d never get up again. A hearty laugh through a wide open mouth.

Ramsey grinned and patted the air with his hand. “Better check your snare.”

Adam had forgotten about the snare. The branch was bowed slightly and swinging dead center was a rabbit in a noose. He pumped the air with his fist. Unhooking it,  he felt a stab of pity as it flopped to the ground. But Ramsey was right there beside him, picked up that rabbit and loped off towards the tent. “Fill in the fire. We’re moving out,” he said over one shoulder.

Adam set off at a jog just to catch up with him. “Is it the rogue ranger?”

Ramsey coughed up a wad of phlegm and thought better of spitting it out of his mouth. “He’s tracking us.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

Adam brightened. “Like I know about the Anasazi and the Mogollon.”

“I guess.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Ramsey nodded as he folded up the tent, knee anchoring it to the ground.

“Can I call my mom?”

Ramsey stared at him for time and then lifted his chin. “Did you hear what I said? Ranger’s coming. And there’s not enough bars out here to use a phone.”

“But there might be… if we get to higher ground.”

Ramsey blew air through his nostrils, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s wait until we get to the village.”

“What village?”

“I would have driven there, would have turned off at 180. But I wanted to show you something. Something you’d always remember.”

Adam began to mentally run everything through in his mind, his father’s face, his father’s blood. It was possible he wasn’t dead and Ramsey was just plain lying. “When can I call her?”

Ramsey clenched his jaw and then rolled his bottom lip beneath his front teeth. “Don’t want that rogue ranger listening in. And he will. He’ll even trace it to your mom and go after her. You don’t want that do you?”

Adam shook his head. No, he didn’t want that.

Ramsey shouldered up the backpack and blew in his cupped hands. “Ready to lead. Ready to follow. Never quit,” he said, hooking the duffel over Adam’s shoulders. “That’s our new motto.”

Adam repeated it. He felt important carrying that duffel bag, felt a little uneasy too. He missed his mom, missed her voice. There was a strange whisper in the wind that afternoon and he stifled a sob, chest hurting a little more with each step.

He looked at Ramsey’s back and the rabbit that dangled from his belt. He was taller than his dad, shoulders straight and level, and tanned skin that seemed to stretch over a stocky frame. He was an athlete. Had to be. The top half of his hair was tied up leaving the rest to fall down to his shoulder and there was a certain curve to his cheek as he turned occasionally to check Adam was there.

It was the mystery of it all that nipped at Adam’s subconscious. He memorized the shape of Ramsey’s upper lip, even the slightly crooked front tooth. The way he drank, ate, slept. All afternoon he thought about it until the sun went down. They were headed west.

God… it’s me… Adam. I know you’re up there with dad watching, but please could you send a hundred police officers. Quietly though, because Ramsey’s got a gun and he’ll use it if he has to. I don’t want mom to worry. I don’t want her to cry―

Ramsey stopped suddenly, held up his right hand and turned a half circle. He herded Adam alongside with one arm, eyes narrowed on something in the shadows. 

“Stay behind me,” he whispered.

Adam could barely swallow. He heard a twig snap, heard the rustle of leaves. Smelled the smoke of a nearby campfire. He looked up the slope at a regiment of pine trees, brown and gnarly like an old man’s whiskers. He saw a flash of light between them, a coyote running perhaps? Heart hammering, he thought he was going to choke.

He heard the pitter-patter of rain and deep pulses in his ears. Ramsey must have heard it too, eyes rolling back and forth with a wildness to them. Gun out in front, safety off.

Adam looked to the left and the right, didn’t see Ramsey slip behind a cluster of chokeberry. It all happened so fast. He felt the arm across his chest, another across his mouth and he could smell the gagging stench of filth. Felt himself being dragged backwards and away from Ramsey. Couldn’t scream, couldn’t shout, just a whimpering that came from the back of his throat. On and on smashing through a dark puddle of water and up a steep bank.

He was yanked into the darkness and that’s what terrified him. Damp soil and the scratch of spiny roots through his hair and cheeks.

Stop… please…

But the man wouldn’t stop. Kept tugging at him, turning him around in circles, wrapping him in twine and then pushing him against something hard.

Adam couldn’t feel his hands or his legs and he wanted to scream. But it was the scratching sound and the flare of a match that stopped him. A single flame illuminated the face of an old man whose chin was thatched with red whiskers, skin whiter than a dog’s bone.