Buried in Wolf Lake Page 18

  He waited about ten minutes for Carrie Herman to emerge from the building. She looked tired after her first day of work. There was a lot to learn in any new job. All Langley could think was, it was unnecessary effort since she wouldn’t live long enough to put her new skills to work.

  The Eve, Carrie, walked to the end of the block and took a seat in the enclosed bus stop shelter. It was another seven minutes before the bus arrived. Good. Very good. When the time was right, when he was ready for her, he would offer her a ride so she wouldn’t have to wait at all.

  Langley followed the bus. When it made a stop, he continued to the next block, did a quick U-turn, and got back into position to follow it. At the second stop there was a place for him to pull into one block behind the bus. The next time, he had to wait for a red light. Altogether, there were six stops, and he was able to maintain his distance and blend in with the traffic.

  Eve got off the bus on Cleveland Avenue and walked a short distance to a four-plex apartment building. Langley noted the number, drove a few blocks, and jotted the address of a random house in his notebook. When he asked Eve if she would like a ride home and she told him where she lived, he would tell her he lived a short distance away. Not out of the way for him at all.

  A rag with a little chloroform on it would knock her out in seconds. It would be dark by the time they got to his warehouse loft. No one would notice a thing.

  Langley felt Gideon rising to the surface again. Power and control were back within his reach.

  35

  My grandparents planned to leave for their winter home in Arizona the following week, so my mother held their going away dinner on my evening off work. Mom invited Nick, but he had a meeting he couldn’t beg out of. It was Grandma, Grandpa, Gramps, Mom, Sheriff Dennis Twardy, and I who gathered at the dining room table.

  “Corky, we’re not at the office. Call me Denny,” the sheriff said.

  It would be a while before “Denny” would roll easily off my tongue, but I was growing accustomed to seeing his car at my mother’s house. He and my mother were both visibly happier and more relaxed. The sheriff’s secretary had commented, on more than one occasion, that she was less worried about his health each week. He had even been able to cut back on his blood pressure medication. Where their relationship was headed was anyone’s guess. My primary concerns for my mother were her health and her happiness.

  “Denny, any new leads in the Wolf Lake dismemberment case?” my grandma asked when we took our cups of coffee into the living room.

  “Nothing that has panned out. When something big happens—and you can’t get much bigger than that—we get a lot of calls from people who think they may have witnessed something suspicious. Nine times out of ten, it’s nothing. But it’s always best to call in reports, ’cause you never know.”

  I wanted to lighten the timbre of the conversation. “Hey, I took a pretty unique call yesterday.”

  My grandma smiled in anticipation. “What was it?”

  “A woman called because a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound pig was on the loose. It was in her yard two days in a row, eating the corn she had out for the birds and squirrels. She was afraid to let her children go out to play.”

  Gramps frowned in disbelief. “You took a pig call?”

  “You never know what important task I’ll be called to do next.” I sucked in my breath and pushed out my chest.

  “So what did you do?” Mother asked.

  “Okay, don’t laugh. I tracked the pig’s hoof prints and saw they went west, then north.”

  Everyone was smiling by then.

  “I drove to the next farm, about a half mile away.”

  “That pig really traveled,” the sheriff observed.

  I nodded. “It was a very athletic pig, I found out. I talked to the farmer/owner, and he admitted he had trouble with that particular pig. He couldn’t keep him penned. You were farmers.” I looked at my three grandparents and my mother. “Have you ever seen a pig jump a three-foot fence?”

  “Of course not,” my grandma said.

  “Well, I did. When we were talking, that goofy pig jumped over the fence like it was stepping over a rock. None of the other pigs in the pen even seemed to notice.” I giggled. “I wish I had it on video. All I could do was laugh and tell the farmer he’d have to figure out different living arrangements for the pig. It was one of the funniest things I’d ever seen.”

  Sheriff Twardy set his cup on its saucer. “We do get our share of animal calls.”

  “Yes, we do. That was my first involving trespassing and thieving by a hurdle-jumping pig.”

  Everyone laughed.

  I stood up. “I’ll do the dishes, then head over to Sara’s. She rented a video for us to watch.”

  My mother made a shooing gesture. “No, just go. It’ll take two minutes to load the dishwasher. Tell Sara ‘hi.’”

  I nodded and gave everyone, except the sheriff, a hug. If I had thought ahead, I would have skipped the hugs altogether to avoid being rude. At least he didn’t appear offended.

  “Corky, you want some popcorn?” Sara opened a food cupboard.

  I patted my stomach. “No thanks, too full.”

  “Red or white wine?” She held up the bottles so I could read the labels.

  “Maybe red tonight.” Sara pulled only one glass out of the cupboard and set it on the counter. “Aren’t you having any?”

  She shook her head. “I’m too tired. My caseload just seems to keep growing.”

  “Hey, we don’t have to watch the movie tonight.”

  “No, I want to. I have to stay up at least until ten, or I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep.” She sat on a stool, plopped her elbows on the counter, and rested her chin in her hands. “So how is your love life going?”

  I sampled the wine. “Oh, I like this. My love life? Fine, I guess. Not that I see much of Nick, but we get along great when we’re together. We are having dinner tomorrow night.”

  She lifted her head and stretched her neck. “Things been awkward with Smoke?”

  “We’ve been friends for so long—and almost lovers for not as long—so I try to keep things in perspective and try not to dream about him.”

  Sara’s eyes shot wide open. “Corky.”

  I shrugged. “Sometimes it’s just hard to get your emotions to agree with your logic.”

  “Tell me about it.” She leaned over and touched my arm. “By the way, I have a date.”

  I held my glass up in a mock toast. “Yay. Who with?”

  “Casey Dey. You know, the Oak Lea officer.”

  “Sure. Good for you, Sara. Casey seems like a great guy.”

  “So how was the family dinner, with the sheriff included?”

  I moved my head from shoulder to shoulder. “It’s getting more natural. He’s a different person away from work.”

  “Still seems strange—your mother dating anyone, much less Twardy.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  36

  I made arrangements with Social Services, the courts, the jail, and the Brenners to take Rebecca to see Alvie. Despite her terrible crimes, I believed Alvie loved her granddaughter. In her warped brain, she believed she was helping Rebecca, in some way, by getting revenge for her father’s death. That was only speculation on my part, though.

  Rebecca was dressed and ready when I picked her up after school on Friday. I admired how healthy and pretty she looked in her gray pants, plum turtleneck, and gray tweedy woolen jacket. Her cheeks had splashes of pink, and her eyes sparkled when she saw me.

  “All set?” I asked.

  Rebecca nodded, a look of worry replacing her smile. “I’m a little scared.”

  “Of the jail? Of seeing your grandmother in there?” I guessed.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Let’s just concentrate on the positive stuff, okay?”

  She nodded again and held my hand on the way to my car.

  “I never got to ride in a car this old b
efore, Sergeant Corky.”

  “Well, buckle up and hang on,” I kidded.

  I helped Rebecca get situated in a visiting booth then took a seat in the adjoining waiting room. Alvie Eisner and her escort arrived a minute later. The officer locked Alvie into the inmate side of the booth. She put her hand against the glass, and Rebecca mirrored her action. Alvie’s face broke into a genuine smile, and I was struck for an instant how attractive she was when she showed genuine, positive emotion.

  They picked up their phones, and I watched Alvie’s face as she talked to Rebecca. I could read most of the words spilling from her lips. She told Rebecca she was sorry she had to go away and that she loved her. She said the sergeant would find her a good home. She said it would be the last time they could visit in person, because children weren’t allowed to visit in prison. Rebecca’s thin little shoulders quivered, and I knew she was fighting to be strong.

  The corrections officer unlocked Alvie’s side of the booth, stepped back, and waited. Alvie made a kissing motion, mouthed “I love you,” and slowly went back into the jail with the officer in tow.

  Rebecca turned her tear-streaked face to me, and I gathered her into my arms. I silently vowed to help make her life happy again.

  “Sergeant Corky, my grandma says I can’t see her anymore after today.”

  “I’m very sorry, Rebecca. That is a sad thing to think about, but we’ll see if she can call you sometime, maybe write letters.”

  “She didn’t say it, but I think she wants me to forget about her.”

  “I know you’ll never do that.”

  And I won’t, either. Unfortunately.

  37: Langley

  Langley got through the week knowing he would get his reward at the end. He almost felt his control slipping a few times. He had to concentrate on the work he was doing for Sheik to bring himself back. Control was key to his continued success.

  Several of the researchers got to work early on Friday so they could take off early in the afternoon. By four o’clock, the place was practically deserted. Fewer potential witnesses. The Eve-Carrie was scheduled until four thirty. At four twenty, Langley was in his car, ready and waiting, barely able to contain his excitement. He didn’t want to appear overly zealous and scare her away. He needed to act calm and casual, maybe a little charismatic, to get her interested.

  He overheard a conversation between one of the other researchers and the Eve-Carrie. She had moved to St. Paul to attend college and had fallen in love with the city. She lived alone in an apartment. A perfect arrangement. Hopefully, no one would miss her until she failed to show up for work on Monday.

  If anyone happened to see him pick her up after work, he would, of course, admit to giving her a ride home. He knew where she lived and could give the address, if asked. He would say the last time he saw her was when he dropped her off at her building. An easy lie.

  And no one would ever see her again.

  At four thirty-five, the Eve-Carrie walked out of the building and looked around. She spotted a car, smiled, and waved. A fluke Langley had not anticipated. A man was picking her up—maybe for a date.

  Damn. Damn. Damn. He had it planned so well. Everything was waiting for her at his loft. He put his head in his hands and rubbed the stubble that was starting to grow back on his head. Regroup. Rethink the night, the weekend.

  There was nothing to do except to go cruising when it got dark out and the streets filled with harlots. He would find his Eve. He had to. In the meantime, he headed home to do some training and weightlifting. Gideon needed to stay strong and powerful.

  Langley stared at the heads of the harlots, the Eves in his freezer, for a long time. He relived the ultimate high he had felt dividing Eve I. Why was Eve II a letdown? It didn’t make sense. He would hit his stride again with Eve III, and any disappointment he felt would dissipate forever.

  Gideon would triumph once again.

  38

  The early October sky was overcast and dreary. The brisk air carried a slight breeze that breathed across my face as I jogged down my road. Between the court trials at which I was scheduled to testify—a domestic abuse, a criminal vehicular homicide, and a felony burglary—the Molly investigation, and my new guardianship, my brain was on overload. Running usually helped clear my mind and put things in perspective.

  After I dropped Rebecca off at the Brenners the previous afternoon, I had agonized about her future, and when and how I would tell her about her great-grandmother, the blood relative Rebecca didn’t know existed. She had her first chance at a stable family environment, but there were three women hovering in the shadows who had the potential to mar her happiness: her grandmother, great-grandmother, and her mother, the woman who had left after her birth and was out there somewhere. I had begun to worry she would show up at some point in time and cause Rebecca more suffering and pain.

  When I’d gotten home from work that night, I had gone immediately to bed, emotionally spent, only to toss and turn most of the night.

  Now as I ran, questions kept popping up, one after the other. If I married Nick, would I drive myself crazy worrying about Faith? If we had more children, what kind of a mother would I be? I wasn’t a nervous person by nature, but I feared I would turn into a replica of my mother, the woman who had held an umbrella over John Carl and me all our lives. Mom was overprotective, hovering to the point of being slightly neurotic, but overall, very good-hearted.

  I was so lost in thought I didn’t notice the disabled vehicle until I was almost upon it. It looked like a car I had seen on my road before. The trunk was open, and a young man was bent over the driver’s side back tire. He stood and turned to me. There was something familiar about him. Before I could speak or react, he raised his arm. I saw a flash of metal before I felt the blow. Everything went black.

  39: Langley

  He wasn’t able to gag her or tie her up. A tractor pulling a hay wagon came down the road toward him. All he could do was dump her in the trunk and close it before she was seen. It shouldn’t be a problem—she should be unconscious for a long, long time. He didn’t want to kill her; that would spoil the fun. He just needed to transport her, first to Hamel, then to his Minneapolis loft.

  Langley hadn’t figured on any traffic on the rural road, so the tractor was a big surprise. He abhorred the unexpected. The last times he had been on Brandt Avenue, there wasn’t a car, or truck, or bicycle, or other moving vehicle in sight. He couldn’t obsess about it. The rest of his plans would flow smoothly.

  He was Gideon, and Gideon would gain ultimate control of the Eve-cop. All the power she wielded would end. She was a worse kind of Eve than the others. The Eve-cop not only dressed up in sexy outfits to tempt men, she also put on her cop uniform, and drove a squad car, and pulled people over for stupid things like a burned-out headlight. Her false sense of authority and control was about to end.

  Langley met a Winnebago County squad car. He smirked when it drove past him. The sooner he got out of the county, the better. He couldn’t take any chances of getting stopped for speeding so he willed himself to calm down and enjoy the ride.

  His reward would begin that night.

  There was a crash on County Road 35. It appeared a car had attempted a left turn in front of another car and hadn’t made it. Lights from squad cars and an ambulance lit up the scene. It didn’t look very serious, but traffic was halted while the crashed vehicles were loaded onto flatbed trailers. Langley was tempted to turn around and find another route, but that might be the slower option. Take deep breaths, he told himself over and over. It was almost time for his next reward.

  40

  I became aware of things in a fog, or maybe it was a dream. I kept pushing to wake up. It was dark and I was moving. How could I be lying there and be in motion?

  I hurt.

  It was the side of my head that hurt the most. I slid my arm up and gently probed my skull with my hand. I had a bump on the side of my head. I tried to open my left eye, but it wouldn’t budge. T
here was a buzzing sound in my ears. Something smelled bad, like rubber and metal and dirt and gasoline all mixed together. And why would I be lying down in such a place? If I wasn’t dreaming, then I must have gotten injured somehow.

  The last thing I remembered was running down my road. Maybe I got struck by a vehicle. Was I in an ambulance? If only I could think.

  “Hello?” My voice didn’t sound like my own. “Hello? Is anybody there?”

  No answer. I heard road sounds. I was in a moving vehicle. Why?

  My right arm was the only part of me I could move, and I patted places on my body within reach to see if anything was broken or bleeding. My hand rested on something hard. It was the cell phone I had stuck in my inside pants pocket. Maybe if I called someone, they would know where I was going.

  I was finally able to move my left leg. I stretched it out, then bent my knee and turned it upward. It touched a low ceiling of something hard and cold. Metal.

  I was in the trunk of a car.

  Smoke answered on the second ring. “Morning, Corky.”

  “Smoke . . .”

  “Corky, what’s wrong? Are you crying?”

  “Um, um, I’m in trouble.”

  His voice held an edge of urgency. “What happened? Where are you?”

  “I don’t know what happened, but I’m in the trunk of a car and it’s moving. I don’t know why. I just woke up.”

  “Corky. You’re in the trunk of a moving car and you don’t know why.” Smoke’s rapid breathing sounded like he was running. I heard him suck in a deep breath. “Okay, let’s talk this through. What is the last thing you remember before you fell asleep? Were you in your bed?” His voice had calmed, I suspected for my benefit.