Chapter 71: Games People Play

Rebecca

This weekend was going downhill fast. The first wild goose chase, using Elizabeth Street to flush me out, had been bad enough. Now he had used Alicia's disappearance for a completely different purpose. Being set up is never fun; having your nose rubbed in it was another thing. What other purpose could he have for leaving a letter behind? That the letter was specifically addressed to me confirmed what I already suspected. On the other hand, being cocky meant that now his ego was involved, and ego had been the downfall of some of the greatest bad guys in history.

I called Bob on the way to the police lab. It wasn't too late to have him contact Jimmy to try and monitor the other girls. It hadn't done any good so far, but if someone suddenly didn't show up at all, or had been missing the past few nights, it was a good bet that our man was responsible. So far he had done a masterful job of both wasting my time and making me look like an idiot all at once. How many times can you show up and make the locals dance around without losing credibility? I hadn't even told Rod yet and it was a conversation I was not looking forward to. On the other hand, these two set ups pointed out very clearly just how good the killer was and justified the time spent trying to track him down. The problem is the local authorities didn't know any of this and being played by the bad guys wasn't good for my image, or the Bureau's.

We arrived at the lab, flashed our IDs and were escorted into a back work area where the envelope in question was already being examined by technicians. Aside from dirt smudges there wasn't much on the outside. It was a letter size manila envelope sealed with the standard clasp and the edge taped shut. The technician was thrilled, there appeared to be at least a partial fingerprint in the tape that the envelope was sealed with. I didn't get my hopes up. I'd be willing to bet that the print wasn't the killers. If it was on file anywhere at all we were probably about to bust some clerk at Staples. But still, you have to take what you can get and hope for the best. He carefully cut away the section with the print before offering me the envelope to open. I deferred and told him to continue. He carefully unsealed the envelope and spilled the contents out onto the tabletop. There were two sheets of paper inside. One held a carefully typed message; the other appeared to have a newspaper clipping pasted to it.

The technician flipped over the sheet with the clipping so we could see it. As I read it I could feel my heart start to beat harder and my face began to redden. By the time I was done my jaw ached from clenching my teeth. The clipping was from a San Diego newspaper; the subject of the article was the death of Celeste Boudreaux. Underlined in the article was a line which read, "According to sources, speaking on condition of anonymity, Miss Boudreaux was also under the watchful eye of the FBI." It went on to speculate that perhaps if we had watched a little closer, the girl might not have died. That bastard cop had shot his mouth off to the press. That's how the killer knew we were on to him. Frank Watkins just got bumped out of first place on the list of people I most wanted to hurt. If there is a special space in hell reserved for "anonymous sources," I hope we get visitation from heaven so we can watch the bastards fry. Of course, that was probably a sinful attitude but... not as sinful as what I wanted to do to him.

I moved to the letter and read what the killer had written;

Fuck.

The news wasn't all bad. We did catch one possible break. The convenience store next door to the storage place had a camera on their dumpsters. Apparently they had a history of problems with local homeless people and were concerned about possible lawsuits if one got hurt. Beyond the dumpster area was the storage yard. You couldn't see much because it was surrounded by a seven foot block wall, but the camera was mounted high enough on the building that you could get a partial view of the area. It was also date and time stamped. The store ran a separate tape for each day, rotating through a month before overwriting the previous month's tapes. We'd gotten all the tapes from the time of Alicia's disappearance. There on the tape, less than an hour after she went missing, a van pulled in front of the empty unit, rolled up the door and then closed it about fifteen minutes later. It was hard to make out a lot of detail as the focus was on the dumpster and we could only see the top edge of the van in the very top area of the feed.

Fortunately the van itself was discernable. Of course in this case, the model range covered over fifteen years. The distinctive design was quickly recognized as either a Chevrolet Astro or the comparable GMC Safari. The cargo model, not the passenger; there were no windows on the sides beyond the driver and passenger doors. There was a ladder rack on top with some kind of tube down the center. Reynolds identified it as a conduit carrier. He had a brother-in-law that was an electrician so he knew what it was called. Beyond that it was a non-descript white van. There were probably not more than two or three hundred in the local commercial fleets. We could rule out a lot of companies right away based on the lack of signage or company logos. That should cut the list considerably. Paul made a call to the office to start getting private registrations within the target area. That would push the numbers up considerably higher than the local fleet total, but it was a place to start. Sorting by color would narrow the list further. Not much to be sure, probably ninety-plus percent of these vans were white.

I looked back at the letter and realized that I had seen that van, or one just like it, recently. The bastard had been in Fresno watching every move we made. I had a call routed to the Fresno Sheriff's office and left a message for Dobbs or Ford to call me as soon as possible. I was surprised when the dispatcher put me on hold and then Dobbs came on the line.

"What's up, Hampton? Did you find something?"

"The killer was watching us at Street's."

"You're shitting me."

"Remember the cable van?"

"That was him?"

"I think so. I got a piece of a van on a video at the scene of my latest headache. Don't worry, we found her; he was just fucking with me again. I'm betting if you get Ford out there with someone from the local cable company, you're going to find that the equipment on that pole has been tampered with. I think he was down there removing the remote link to the cameras in the Street home. That and checking me out. He left a letter at the scene this time, addressed to me. In it he says that my trip to Fresno put a face to the name of his adversary."

"Cocky bastard."

"You don't know the half of it. This whole trip was designed to pin me down so he knew where I would be. I think he left right after he locked her up and that there is another girl missing somewhere that we don't know about yet. She's the one he was after all along. All this was nothing but smoke."

"Well, I can tell you one thing. He's not the one that shot my officer. We found him. Apparently Henderson has a new girlfriend and her ex wasn't happy about it. He paid her a call to try and win her back, mentioned something about the competition being eliminated. The news of the shooting hadn't broken yet. As soon as she saw it in the paper she called. We found the gun wrapped in a sleeping bag in his attic. So your boy isn't quite as ruthless we thought."

"Actually he is; he just doesn't feel the need to draw the kind of attention that would bring. If he'd wanted to, he could have killed Street and my current victim just as easily. But murder investigations garner more attention and resources. He wants to keep this on a more personal level. I think to a certain extent he sees this as a game, with me as his opponent."

"I'll have Ford check out that pole first thing in the morning. No reason to wake her up for a look sooner than that is there?"

"No, I don't expect her to be able to do more than confirm my suspicions. Morning is soon enough to do that."

"We'll let you know what we find as soon as we can. You call me if you need anything else. Easy said to tell you 'Hi' if you called, so 'Hi.'"

Jimmy

It was a long tense weekend waiting for word from Rebecca. Every night I tried repeatedly to reach Alicia Sanderson. Every night I failed. I was in the office Sunday night when Bob called to let me know the girl had been found. He passed on Rebecca's assumption that this had in fact been a diversion. I tried to remember if any of the others had been missing from the monitors the past few nights. No one came to mind. The night ended fruitlessly all around. I can't say I was as frustrated as Rebecca must be, but I was beginning to feel less than optimistic about the future.

"Jimmy, stop it," Allison said. It was Monday morning and we were sitting at the table discussing it over toast and juice. "Beating yourself up isn't going to help. You're being unrealistic about all of this. We've been waiting all year for this to start. The last couple weeks you were concentrating on a way to get a jump on him, that's all. We never expected you to be able to keep him from taking someone. We just hoped that you would be able to tell who as quickly as possible. It didn't work. So now we do it the hard way."

"But he's probably already got her," I answered. "He could be torturing her right this moment."

"Then pray that he got a real fighter this time," Mom's voice came from the hall. "Someone that can hold out until you can find her. Otherwise we'll be waiting another year to try again. Your sister is right, James; you can't let this get you down. Whoever she is, she is counting on you to save her. Nothing has changed."

"Gee thanks, Mom," I said. "No pressure there." I was trying for sarcasm but the smile gave it away.

She kissed me on the cheek and said, "Anytime slugger. I'm just glad she has you working for her. Even though she'll think it was Rebecca, we'll all know the truth."

"Hey you never know it may be Rebecca that saves her. I may still strike out."

"There's that negative thing again. Must be something in your orange juice, maybe I should switch to buying apple instead."

"Yuck. I hate apple juice."

"Yes, I know. Try to keep that in mind before you open you mouth again."

I actually started to say something, but thought better of it and stopped.

"Um-hmm, that's my smart boy," she said proudly as she filled a mug with coffee. My dad hit the door about that time and she gave him a quick kiss on his way to the shower.

"You running with Tim again today, dear?" she asked when she turned back.

"Yeah, we're doing every other day for now. I'll run my normal stuff on the off days. We're pushing to hit 20K by the end of summer. Some sadistic coach somewhere suggested that the team should consider entering some of the local marathons in the off season. We're taking up a collection to have him knee-capped when we figure out who it was."

"But running is so good for you," Allison added with smile. I threw a napkin at her and she burst into a fit of the giggles. Mom kissed us and went to get ready for work. I had some stuff to do around the house before Tim got there so I headed out to get started.

Tim showed up on schedule and we headed out. We took the same course we had been running for the last week but today we were actually going for time. I actually kept up for most of the course. At about eight kilometers he started pulling ahead. I picked up my pace a little but still couldn't keep up. He had almost a quarter mile on me by the time he finished. I was getting better but I still couldn't keep up. Maybe I should start running in my dreams. The thought of what Allison would have to say about that put a smile on my face as I crossed the finish. The smile got me a really strange look from Tim.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Oh, just thinking that despite your lead at the end, I have actually improved; and that if I have to run behind someone, I prefer the look of your sister's ass to yours."

"Amen to that."

"So how's her trip going?"

"She must be having a good time. She hasn't even called. I figure she spent the weekend partying it up with the sisterhood. She hinted that she might but promised to make it up to me when she gets back. We're going to take in a 'movie, ' together tomorrow." He hung air quotes around movie and it wasn't hard to figure out what was really going to be going on.

"Sounds like my kind of flick. But I have cable so I get to watch at home," I said with a smile.

"Fuck you."

"Sorry, no can do. My dance card is full. Now if you can talk your sweet sister into it, I'm sure I can make room."

"Yeah, I'll bet you could. Good run, though. You really are getting better. I think we're going to have a strong team this year."

We stretched, showered, and headed for the pool to watch the girls. And to think I almost gave all this up for a car. One of my more brilliant moments, if I do say so myself. Yes, with enough days like this my summer was looking really fine. That lasted until just after midnight, and then the world came crashing down around me.

We were meeting with Rebecca to catch up on the latest developments. She told us all about the weekend events. When she told us about the letter and that the killer had been in Fresno watching her, it kind of creeped us all out. She mentioned that he was pretending to be a cable repairman. I didn't think much about it at the time. She mentioned the van on the tape and I got a cold feeling as something tickled at my brain.

"Can you show us the video?" I asked. Everyone looked at me strangely for a second then turned to her.

"Sure I guess. Bear with me a second guys, I've only done this once." She closed her eyes and the scene from the crime lab formed around us.

We ran through the whole scene once but her viewpoint was too general. I had an idea.

"Try it again." Again everyone looked at me strangely, but she rewound the scene and this time when it replayed I tried moving the viewpoint toward the monitor. It worked and soon we could all see a blown up, if somewhat grainy image of what appeared to be the killer moving Alicia into to empty storage unit. He already had her on the gurney. He made two trips so she speculated that he had gone back for the IV unit. You couldn't see his face in any of the images, just the top of his head moving past the van. The chill creeping up my spine got suddenly colder. Something about the van...

"Rebecca, show me Fresno. I need to see the van better."

"What? Why do you need to..."

"Just do it! Please."

"Okay, okay. Hold on a second. I never really paid much attention to it so..."

"Just run the whole thing! There's something about that van."

She closed her eyes again and I felt Allison's hand on my arm, "Jimmy? What's..." she stopped as the scene took shape around us showing Rebecca and Dobbs driving onto the street where Elizabeth Street had disappeared. There, straight ahead, was a man on a ladder above a van, he was obscured by the pole but it was the van that had my interest... something about the tube on top... Memories cascaded as I flashed back to a cold night last fall.

I jolted upright in bed. It took a second to orient myself and then I was scrambling for my phone. I hit the speed dial and it was already ringing when Allison came in. I wasn't sure what effect my disappearing in the middle of a dream would have on everyone else, but it obviously let them know something was seriously wrong.

Rebecca answered on the second ring, "Jimmy, what the hell just happened? What did you see?"

I could already feel the tears coming as I answered, "The van. I've seen it before and I think I know who he has." Beside me Allison stiffened.

"You what?"

"Is Angela Osborne on your list? She's a runner at my school, state champion last two years, four plus g.p.a..."

"Osborne? Yeah, she's on it but she's like fifteen or something, no boyfriend, no history of violence, too clean."

By now Allison had her face in her hands, sobbing quietly. I wiped my own eyes, put my arm around her and pulled her to my side, stroking her arm, comforting her as much as myself.

Rebecca's voice came again over the phone, "Jimmy? Talk to me, Matthews. What do you have?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath and answered, "I was on a date with Angela last fall. We were parked out on an overlook talking and fooling around. We weren't doing it or anything but we had some issues to deal with. The van was parked off to one side, facing where we were parked. Think about the van for a second. There is something strange about the tube on top. It curves the wrong way."

"Shit, a parabolic microphone! If it's even a little bit movable he could have heard every word Dobbs and I said in Fresno. So what did he hear that got him interested in her?"

"The reason she doesn't have a boyfriend is she's sleeping with her brother, Tim."

"Oh yeah, that would do it. Are you sure it's her?"

"Not sure, but pretty sure. She went to Phoenix this weekend to check out the university. No one has heard from her since. She was supposed to be back yesterday. I ran with her brother today and he said she still wasn't home."

"And she's not even one of the girls that you've been watching."

"That wasn't really working anyway."

"Hey, don't do that. Just because it didn't work doesn't make it a waste of time. It could have worked. It would have been a lot worse to not think of it until after someone was missing and wonder if you might have prevented it. No effort is wasted, if nothing else it kept you busy so you didn't dwell on it. This could be a break for us."

"How can him having my friend be a break for us?"

Allison answered, "Because it's someone you know and already have a link with."

I guess Rebecca heard her, "Exactly. It should be, may be, easier for you to find her than one of the other girls. Okay, let's assume that it's her. No one really knows she's missing yet and we can't just call over there blind. I need a reason to call. I'm guessing she parks on the street?"

"Or the driveway, her dad has so much stuff in their garage there is only room for one car and her mom parks there."

"Okay, I'm going to call Bob and have him drive by and see if her car is there. This late he should be able to get there in no more than twenty minutes. Call me back in thirty minutes and I'll let you know if she's there or not. What does she drive? Just in case he doesn't know."