Paperwork. The bane of his existence. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ll be right in.”
He refilled his coffee, his mind still on Kathryn. Judge McAllister hung up the phone, his face pale and frightened. “My attorney, Elliott Lancaster, is on his way over,” he said. “You’re not puttin’ her in a cell, are you?”
He couldn’t deal with this right now. “I’m sorry,” he said, and left McAllister standing there, open-mouthed. Inside the interrogation room, Neely was still weeping softly, and Linda rolled her eyes and beckoned him in.
“These damn forms are new,” she said. “And I’ve never filled one out. Will you look it over and make sure I haven’t missed anything?”
Nick made a mental note to schedule a staff workshop on the topic of paperwork. He picked up the form and squinted at the tiny print, wondering if this meant his vision was about to go. Next thing he knew, he’d be wearing stocking garters and whistling Glenn Miller tunes through his dentures.
“Chief?”
He looked up blankly at Teddy, who was leaning in the doorway, his face ashen. “It’s the phone, for you, sir. It’s Henley.”
He dropped the piece of paper and stalked across the lobby to the dispatch desk. Picked up Teddy’s headset and put it on. “DiSalvo,” he barked.
“Evening, DiSalvo.”
Henley’s voice was scratchy, fading in and out, and Nick realized he was on a cell phone. “Henley,” he said. “We’ve been looking for you.”
“I imagine Neely’s been runnin’ her mouth. I tried to protect her, but there’s nothin’ more I can do.”
“We know all about Ruby,” he said. “And all the rest of it. Turn yourself in, Henley. You know the score. If we have to come after you, it’ll look a lot worse.”
“Oh, you’ll come after me, all right. I have somethin’ that belongs to you.”
His heart slammed into his throat as Kathryn’s voice said, “Nick? Christ, Nick, I’m so sorry.”
“Kat.” He closed his eyes. “Ah, Jesus, Kat. What happened?”
“I’m sorry. I never meant to cause you trouble
—
”
She was cut off abruptly, and Henley was back on the line. In the background, the hunting dogs yapped and whined. “We’re goin’ hunting,” Henley said. “Your lady friend, me, and the dogs. It gets dark real early out here in the swamp. And there’s all kinds of wild critters out here. Bugs and snakes. Maybe even a gator or two. Not to mention the dogs. They got real sharp teeth, DiSalvo, and they been itching to track down a coon. Or somethin’ bigger.”
“What do you want?” he said grimly.
“Well,” Henley said, “I figger at this point, I got nothing to lose. But I’m a reasonable man, DiSalvo. So I’m gonna give you a chance to show me what kind of a lawman you are. You get to her first, you get to keep her. Fair’s fair. But if I get to her first—” He paused, then chuckled. “you get to watch me kill her. Oh, by the way, I almost forgot. There is one other thing.”
His heart, already beating rapidly, went even faster. “What?” he said.
At the other end, the phone was fumbled. It buzzed and sputtered, and then his daughter’s voice said, “Daddy?”
And his blood turned to ice water.
Dusk came early in the swamp, and all its sleeping creatures awoke. Kathryn swatted at a mosquito as she stumbled along the damp, spongy ground behind Janine, the nose of Henley’s hunting rifle pressed against her spine. “Why don’t you just kill us now?” she said. “It would be easier.”
“Well,” he said, “I suppose it would be easier. But it would take all the fun out of it, now, wouldn’t it?”
Her wet sneakers squished with every step she took. Henley had changed into hip waders before he led them out into the swamp, but she and Janine were still wearing their Nikes. The dogs trotted along ahead of them, yanking at the leashes that Henley held with grim tautness, eager to get on with the night’s excitement. Beside her, Janine trudged along, silent and stoic. She had more than a little of her father in her, Kathryn thought, and an inexplicable pride shot through her at the courage the girl displayed. “You okay, Janine?” she said.
“I’m okay,” the girl said.
Henley paused to look at the sky. “Stop here,” he said, reining in the dogs.
The swamp lay before them, miles of dark, murky wetlands, thick with cypress and crawling vines, dotted with mossy hummocks and clumps of cattail. “Take off your shoes,” he said.
“That’s right, Henley,” she said. “Make it a fair fight.”
“Shut up!” he said, and swung the barrel of the gun at her head. It connected with her temple with a sharp crack, and everything in her vision went red. She swayed on her feet, and Janine caught her.
“Stop that!” the girl shouted. “Leave her alone, you pig!”
“Take the damn shoes off!” he roared, “or you’ll be the next one to get it!”
Janine kicked off her sneakers, helped Kathryn into a sitting position. “Kat?” she said as she rapidly untied the laces to Kathryn’s sneakers. “Are you okay?”
After trying for a while, she located her tongue. Her vocal cords. “I’m okay,” she said. “My head hurts a little, but I’m okay.”
It was an understatement. Her head felt like a melon that had been slammed onto the sidewalk and burst into smithereens. But she couldn’t let the girl see. Barefoot, sitting on her rump on cold, wet ground, she patted Janine’s hand. “Thanks,” she said.
Henley pulled a bottle from his pocket and handed it to her. “Rub it on,” he said. “Both of you. Starting with the feet. I want it all over you.”
She stared at the bottle without comprehending. “What is it?” she said.
And he gave her that smile she’d come to hate. “Coon scent,” he said. “Dogs got to know what they’re after.”
She looked at him stupidly. “Fuck you,” she said.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked so hard that tears filled her eyes. “Rub it on, bitch,” he said, “or I kill the girl right here.”
He released her, and with clumsy hands, she silently poured a puddle of the oily substance into her palm. “Here,” she said as she passed the bottle to Janine. “Baste yourself up real nice.”
They both rubbed it on their feet, their legs, their arms and necks. “Faces, too,” he said, and silent, steaming, Kathryn complied. The dogs, who’d already caught the scent, were getting restless and excited, yelping and growling and straining frantically at the leashes. Without a word, she handed the bottle back to him. “That’s more like it,” he said. “I like my women obedient.”
“You’ll fry in hell, Henley. That’s my only comfort.”
He nudged her with the rifle barrel. “Get up,” he said.
Janine held out a hand to her. When she stood, her head screamed, and the sky tilted above her. Her stomach lurched, and for a moment she thought she would vomit, but she regained her equilibrium and the nausea went away.
Darkness was descending rapidly now, and Henley clicked on the flashlight he carried. “Lover Boy’s on his way,” he said. “Care to wager on whether he gets to you before the dogs do?”
“We’re not afraid,” Janine said, looping an arm through Kathryn’s. “My father’s smarter than you. He’ll come. Won’t he, Kathryn?”
Kathryn turned her head in slow motion. Christ, she was proud of the kid. “That’s right,” she said. “And when he does, Henley, you’re dead meat.”
As the dogs yelped and strained, he spun around. “Shut up!” he yelled, and they paused mid-yelp, cowering as he swung the rifle through their midst. It hit one of them, and the injured dog let out a sharp yip before falling silent and staring at Henley through soft, accusing brown eyes.
“You’re just a prince among men, aren’t you?” Kathryn said. “Abusive to women, children, and dogs. An equal opportunity offender.”
“Shut up,” he said, “and listen good. I’m givin’ you a ten-minute head start before I turn the dogs loose. Now, this is up to you, of course, but I’d advise you to move fast. Them dogs can cover a lot of ground in damn little time. And they been trained to tear a coon to shreds when they get hold of it.”
“You thought of everything, didn’t you?” she said. “Covered all your bases.”
“You sure do have a mouth on you, Miz McAllister. I kinda hate to have to kill you. I’ve enjoyed this little sparrin’ match. Almost as much as I’m gonna enjoy the hunt. But duty’s duty, and if the dogs don’t kill y’all, I’ll have to finish off what’s left. While DiSalvo watches, of course.” He turned off the flashlight, plunging them into darkness. “And then,” he said, “I’m gonna kill him, too.”
“You bastard.”
“You got ten minutes, ladies. If I was you, I’d leave now.”
* * * * *
“Chief?” Teddy said. “You okay? Chief?”
“The son of a bitch has my daughter,” he said. “The goddamn son of a bitch has Kathryn and my daughter!”
Teddy’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. “Holy shit,” he said.
Nick ripped off the headset and threw it at Teddy. “Call Doc Winslow, tell him I’m coming by to pick up the dog. Get Earl on the radio and tell him to meet us out at the turnoff by Lake Alberta.”
“Yes, sir.” Teddy spun around in his chair and put on his headset.
He strode toward his office door.
“Bucky!”
he bellowed as he shoved it open so hard it crashed up against the wall.
Bucky was still sitting there, still on the phone, still looking beleaguered. He looked up, saw the expression on Nick’s face. “I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone, and hung it up.
“Hunting rifles,” Nick said curtly. “Do you have hunting rifles?”
“I’ve got two at home, Chief. Loaded and ready to go.”
“Give me your car keys, Officer. We’re going after those rifles.”
Bucky dug out his keys. “Yes, sir,” he said, flipping them across the desk. Nick caught them in midair. “May I ask—?”
“He’s got Kathryn,” Nick said grimly, already heading for the door, “and Janine. Out in the swamp. He has the dogs with him. He’s going to hunt them down and kill them.”
“Holy mother o’ God. Has Shep finally lost his mind?”
“I’d say he lost it a long time ago.
Linda!”
he yelled as he strode across the lobby.
“Yeah, Chief?” She popped her head out of the interrogation room.
“You’re in charge until we get back. Try to keep the roof on the place.”
“Yes, sir!”
The cruiser’s powerful engine purred like the monster machine it was. He pulled out at full torque with lights on and siren screaming. “Listen, Chief,” Bucky said, “I’ve been huntin’ that swamp since I was a boy. I know damn near every inch of it. And I know where Henley’s favorite huntin’ spot is. I’ve been there with him. I’ve hunted with the son of a bitch.”
“Good,” he said. “You’ll have to navigate. How big is the swamp?”
“About three miles long. Three-quarters of a mile wide. Shep usually goes in off the Swanville Road, half a mile or so past the turnoff.”
He took the corner onto South Hickory with his tires squealing, and came to a screeching halt outside Doc Winslow’s veterinary clinic. A lamp was burning in the window, and the old gentleman was waiting for him with Elvis, who was perched on a green Naughahyde settee. The dog had a large bandage on his right shoulder, evidence of the stitches he’d needed after he went through the window.
“Come on, boy,” Nick said, and the dog hopped off the settee and ran to greet him. “Thanks, Doc,” he said, rubbing the dog behind the ears. “I’ll settle the bill later.”
When he opened the back door of the cruiser, Elvis jumped in. “That sure is one big dog,” Bucky observed.
“That’s a trained police dog,” Nick said, “and I just deputized him. Which way to your house?”
“Turn at the end of the block, go down two streets, and hang a right. Third house on the left.”
The thirty seconds Bucky was inside the house seemed more like thirty years to Nick. Bucky emerged with the hunting rifles wrapped in a blanket. He loaded them into the trunk and hopped back in the car, and Nick tapped the siren switch and floored the accelerator. “What are we likely to run into out there?” he said.
“Besides snakes? There’s all kinds of small mammals. Otters, beaver, that kind of thing. But they’re not dangerous. Lots of pesky insects. I’ve heard tell of a gator bein’ found out there once, but that was twenty years ago, and nobody’s seen one since. There’s all kinds of waterfowl, and of course, bats
—
”
“Of course,” he said.
“But mostly it’s the snakes. Cottonmouths and copperheads. Big and mean.”
He slowed for the Swanville Road, fishtailed a little in the gravel, but the year-old Crown Victoria cornered like a race car. Siren still blasting, he shot down the gravel road doing ninety. He slowed near the turnoff, where Earl sat waiting in his patrol car, and pulled up to Earl’s open window. “I don’t understand,” Earl said. “I worked with Shep for twenty years. He always ran things his way, but I never thought he’d do anythin’ like this.”
“He’s gone off the deep end,” Nick said. “Listen, Bucky thinks he knows where Henley would’ve taken them. You in shape to go with us? It’s rough terrain.”
“I can try. Damn lumbago’s been bad.”
“Maybe it would be better,” Bucky said, “if Earl drove around to the other side. If they get across, they’ll probably be comin’ out on Old Raleigh Road.”