Sleepwalker (34 page)

“Shut up.”

“You never read me my rights.”

“You have the right to shut the fuck up.”

Richard blew out a breath of exasperation, sat down on the end of the bench in the cell and closed his eyes. He watched the dancing shapes on the inside of his lids until he thought he heard a faint siren-like sound. He opened his eyes and peered down the hall where he could see Earl pacing crazily about.

The young cop stamped his feet a few times, then picked up the nearest desk phone--even at this distance Richard could see the anger and frustration seething on his freckled face--and started dialing. “Yeah, Tommy? This is Earl. My daddy says you gotta come to the station. Why? Him and Boyer are up in the hills checking out a body. Yep, a body. So come on here. I got a surprise for you. Nope, I ain’t
tellin
’. You
gots
to come and see for yourself. See you in a few--”

The momentum of Earl’s jiggling face went suddenly still, as if he’d just seen a ghost. His hand fell from his ear, the phone loose in its clutch as he set it back into the cradle. Apparently he’d seen something interesting, probably just beyond the front window because his eyes stopped wavering and his lower jaw hung real low with its fat bottom lip all slick with saliva, and he stood real steady trying to feign some poise in his chubby physique. All for what?

Richard heard the front door open, then the slow squeak of sneakered footsteps. He saw Earl smile real devilishly, as if he’d just been mistakenly handed a fifty dollar gift certificate to
Mr
Donuts
. The young trooper tried to speak, at least it appeared that way because his bottom lip was trembling so much, and all that would come out was a pathetic stutter of “G-Good evening, m-ma’am.”

The sneakered footsteps approached Earl but stopped just beyond Richard’s line of vision. Richard pressed his face against the bars of the cell, desperate to see who it was that had good ‘ol Cletus-Earl all tongue tied. A woman’s hand reached out, touched Earl’s fat sweaty face. He trembled, wiping his wet palms against his pants, the sudden bulge at his zipper testimony to his virginity. Earl, in an attempt to cover the pitched tent, tripped back against the wall. Richard almost burst out laughing but cut it short when the woman came into view, a slim shapely body in blue jeans, a man’s plaid shirt tied seductively at the waist to reveal a smooth belly, cut cleavage, and a lightly freckled chest.

For the briefest moment she peered down the short hall and locked eyes with Richard. Very quickly, and surreptitiously, she smiled at him.

Just like she did four months ago, in Stafford’s Coffee House.

Pam.

The car ride upstate was spent discussing all the finer details of the mystery, Leonard and Kevin taking turns to recall every minute of their day, divulging each specific, their testimonies showing no contradiction. Reese seemed genuinely impressed with their campaign, and on one occasion even displayed a grin of smug satisfaction--even if they
hadn’t
played everything by the book. Upon leaving Fairview he’d insisted on taking the wheel of Leonard’s car, and during the whole trip listened intently as the cops shared their incredible experience. He remained mostly quiet, systematically nodding along with them. But on occasion he made a point to comment on some of the more obvious discrepancies, offering up his own theories which either Leonard or Kevin respectfully discredited.

Kevin rode in the back seat with the box of evidence on his lap, poring over Delaney’s file on
Sparke
, even so much as re-reading a couple of pages with utter fascination. “Hey Len, you never told me about the tape.”

“Jesus...I forgot. Yeah, there’s something I want to check out.”

“What is it?” Reese asked.

“Kevin, hand me the tapes and the player.” As he reached over and took the items from Kevin, he said, “When we were interviewing
Sparke
this morning, from out of nowhere he said something along the lines of--and Kevin, correct me if I’m wrong--he said something about seeing a flash of light...a blue light, like a camera’s flash. Of course we didn’t see anything, so he told us to just forget it, and we did because we thought he was simply tired, and then we moved on. We’d completely forgotten about this little episode until we listened to the tape from the doctor’s office, and read Delaney’s notes. In the notebook, there was a reference to a flash of blue light, something we didn’t connect to Richard’s odd statement from this morning until Richard, on the tape, again said the exact same thing.”

He searched the tape of
Sparke’s
session with Delaney until he found the segment he was looking for. He played it for Reese: Richard interrupting his therapy session to comment on an unexpected flash of light. A few seconds later when the conversation resumed between doctor and patient, Leonard stopped the tape.

Reese cleared his throat then commented, “Okay, so what are you driving at?”

“I remembered,” Leonard said, switching tapes, “that when I interviewed
Sparke
two years ago about the attack on his wife, he’d said something very similar, about seeing a ‘strange light’. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, and it’d quickly escaped my memory. Until now. Kevin...that’s why earlier I couldn’t be certain about it him saying it--because for so long I didn’t remember it. Now it’s as clear as day, I can even recall exactly when he said it. Give me a minute.” He fast-forwarded the tape, listened to a few seconds of dialogue before stopping it. He fast-forwarded a little more, then stopped. “Okay, right here...listen to this. He pressed play:

‘So you’re saying, Richard, that your wife’s injuries were fresh, that she’d without doubt obtained them that night as she slept?’

‘That’s correct. While I slept too.’

‘Do you feel, unequivocally, that there was an intruder?’

‘No, I don’t, but I don’t see any other possibility.’

‘Any idea, if there was indeed an intruder, who it might--’

‘What’s that?’

‘What’s what?’

‘I saw a light...a bright blue flash...like a flash from a camera.’

‘I didn’t see anything, Richard.’

‘Don’t worry about it. Forget it...I must be dreaming.’

Leonard stopped the tape. “He even mentioned the part about ‘dreaming’ earlier this morning. It’s like history repeating itself.”

Kevin said, “Must sound weird hearing yourself from two years ago having a conversation with the man who’s been our primary focus for the last twelve hours.”

“Weird’s an understatement.”

“Here we are, finally,” Reese said, slowing down. He pulled the car into the right lane and exited the interstate at
Bledson
Hills. Once on State Road 35, he unbuckled his seat belt and kept his eyes focused on the dark winding road.

“Should be on the right,” Leonard said. About a mile up.

“Nothing but trees.”

Leonard paused for a moment, his mind and thoughts shifting back to Janice. He never called her to tell her where he’d be, or when he’d be home. Never gave it a second thought, really. Was it fair to leave her sitting at home wondering where he was? Whether or not he was okay? Leonard shrugged away the creeping guilt. This wouldn’t be the first time he stayed on the job late, and Janice very well knew that he sometimes lost track of time. He’d always told her in the past,
No news is good news. Don’t wait for the phone to ring
. But he also knew that she hadn’t figured him to be eighty miles away investigating a double murder--that he wouldn’t be coming home at all tonight.
She’s probably seen the news
, he thought.
She must know what I’m doing
. He wondered if she really cared.
Maybe she’s sleeping? She’d be better off lost in some dream than waiting for my call.

“There!” Leonard pointed, regaining his train of thought. Just past a bend in the road was a Sheriff’s car sitting on the shoulder alongside a wire fence. In front of the car was a path that ran under a section of the fence with hinges on it--a gate, one perhaps utilized by local authorities. When they pulled up and parked in front of the trooper’s vehicle, a middle-aged man with short cropped hair emerged from the front seat to greet them. He wore plain clothes--jeans, a red plaid shirt, and baseball cap--but Leonard could see he was a cop by the harness and gun belt draped over his chest. His eyes smiled and he wore a pleasant grin beneath a bushy moustache. He looked relieved that they’d finally arrived.

“Good evening. Fairview’s finest, I suppose.”

Reese smiled. “I’m Captain Reese. This is Officer Leonard
Moldofsky
, and Officer Kevin Hughes. We came as quickly as possible.”

They exchanged handshakes. “Assistant Deputy
Harnisch
. Pleased to meet you.” Pointing further up the road, and getting right down to business, he said, “There’s a lot of physical disturbance near the park’s main entrance, but this here service entrance will make the going a good deal shorter. Why don’t you gentlemen come with me.”

   
The four piled into the trooper’s sedan.
Harnisch
used a remote control to open the steel gate, and took them into the state park.

“That’s pretty cool,” Kevin said.

“Isn’t it? These here fences were put up back in the eighties in order to keep the deer from going out onto the road. They just installed this remote control gate so the ranger doesn’t have to get out of his car every time he goes in and out. Anyway, there’s a bunch of cabins up here in the park that the town council rents out to state employees. A fringe benefit, I guess, if you like to camp or hunt, although we’re out of hunting season at the moment. Jake Hammer, a park employee, was using one of the cabins for a little ‘r and r’ when he heard some gunshots. Doesn’t have a gun, so he waited a while before going out to have a look around. About three hundred yards further on up the mountain from where he was staying, he found a body. Nasty gunshot wound to the head. I haven’t seen it yet, but Sheriff Porter’s up there right now with Deputy Boyer. Said it must’ve been a shotgun blast at close range.”

“Must be a messy scene.”

“Uh-huh, that’s what I figure.”
Harnisch
cleared his throat. “Anyway, Sheriff Porter got the printout of your fugitive today over the computer and had it in his pocket when he got to the body. Said it’s definitely him. He radioed me at the station and had me call you right away, then told me to wait for you by the service entrance.”

The car jostled as the road began to thin. It curved upward over a rough embankment, the headlights dancing across the dark environment like nightclub spots. They reached a flat area of land where
Harnisch
stopped the car beside a large pine. To the right a small cabin sat against a backdrop of trees, two windows and a front door illuminated by the amber glow of interior lights. Dozens of moths danced and flitted around the windows, beetles the size of nickels gripped the screens. The front door opened and a man appeared. He was probably in his fifties, but his grizzled appearance made him look older. His hair was mussed, and he needed a shave three days ago. He wore a similar but dirtier outfit to the assistant deputy, plaid shirt and Wrangler jeans that’d seen better days. He coughed like an old car and spit out a wad of tobacco juice before offering a receptive grin.

“Jake, these here are the detectives from Fairview. Sheriff thinks you might’ve found their man.”

“Evening officers...
Harn
, you want me to take ‘em up?”

“You bet. I’m coming along for the ride,
heh
heh
.” The two men shared a giggle, slapped each other playfully on the shoulder. Leonard grinned at Kevin, who eyed Reese, who in his silence seemed to say,
Where the hell are we? Mayberry?

Jake went into the cabin and returned with three flashlights.
Harnisch
retrieved two more from the cruiser so each man could have his own. With Jake in the lead, they began to walk through the woods, Leonard finally ‘getting’
Harnisch’s
bad joke about coming along for the ‘ride’. Redneck humor, simple and quite unfunny.

The full moon’s light trickled through the dense pines, allowing them a trace of visibility even beyond the span of wavering beams from their flashlights. Keeping a steady pace, they ventured uphill over sticks and rocks and twigs for a good ten minutes, their footsteps nearly drowned out by the never-ending serenade of crickets and cicadas. Leonard shuddered as he tried to comprehend the overwhelming variety of bugs teeming throughout the woods, the different shapes and sizes they came in, the different clicks and chirps they made. His skin crawled and gooseflesh ran across his arms as he visualized them creeping beneath his clothes, pincers digging into his skin looking to scoop out their fair share of flesh and blood.

“You better stop scratching, Len. You’ll get an infection.”

“Damn mosquitoes. How much further in is it?”

“Another couple of minutes,” Jake said. “The woods are starting to clear now.”

Soon the woods did clear and a wide open stretch of nature came into view, dimly illuminated beneath the pleasant lunar radiance. The sound of running water immediately rose from a nearby trough, at a safe enough distance, it seemed, so they didn’t have to worry about falling in. Ahead and to the left a pair of construction spots ignited a small area about fifteen feet from the edge of the trough where two men stood beside a dark figure on the ground. They walked in the direction of the lit area, the earth much wetter here in the open, their sloshing footsteps announcing their disorderly approach.