“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just find her.”
At the emergency booth located across from the merry-go-round, Delta dialed Connie’s number. She answered it on half a ring.
“Delta, you’ve got to find him. He’s crazier than I thought. He’s, he’s going to kill a little girl or someone little. I think it’s a little girl. You’ve got to find—”
“He’s already got her.”
A small, bird-like sound escaped Connie’s mouth. “God, no.”
“What can you tell me, Con. we’re at a carnival with hundreds of people and any number of ways for him to escape. You’ve got to give me something to go on.”
The line was silent. Delta waited for what felt like hours for some response. “Connie?”
Again, that sharp, sorrowful sound crossed the lines. “I . . . I don’t have . . .”
“Come on, Consuela! Get a grip here. I need you. Now is not the time to fold on us. A child’s life is at stake.”
“I’m trying.”
“Where in the hell did he go?” Delta pressed the phone tightly to her ear to see if she could hear Connie at the keyboard, but the carnival noise was much too loud. “Damn it, Connie, where are you?”
“Okay, okay.” Delta heard Connie draw in a big breath. “Okay. After Dori sat on the unicorn, I had her just sit there and pet it. You know, try to make friends with it or something.”
“And?”
“And a little girl came out of the bushes and started talking to Dori.”
“Can you speed it up, here, Con, I’m in a hurry.”
“The little girl, obviously a virgin, hopped on the back of the unicorn, and it started to flap its wings like it was going to fly. Instead, a large vulture swooped onto the screen and took them both to this city in the clouds.”
Delta nodded, her eyes already scanning the carnival for anything remotely resembling a bird. “What next?”
“I don’t know. The bird dropped them off on a cloud, and I haven’t been able to figure out what to do. God, Delta, not a little girl?”
“Is that all?” Delta knew Connie was weakening every second, and she needed her to stay strong and coherent. They couldn’t afford for her to collapse now. Not now. “Connie, give me your best guess.”
The line was silent again. It was several seconds before Connie said anything again. “I’d say go to the highest rides. Look for anything that has to do with hawks or eagles or clouds. Anything that might resemble a bird would be good.”
“Got it. If you get anything . . .”
“I’ll beep you right away. Del, if only I could find a key. If I knew what the pattern was, we could at least have an edge.”
“Keep looking. I’ve gotta go.” Delta started to hang the phone up but heard Connie’s voice.
“Del?”
“Yeah?”
“You have to find her. I don’t know what I’d do if he—”
“We’re doing everything we can.”
“There’s one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“When you find him, kill him. Do it for me.”
Delta said nothing and hung the receiver up. She had never heard Connie speak like that before—Connie, who put spiders outside and never even owned a fly swatter; Connie, who bought hundreds of dollars of rain forest each year. The woman who valued life above anything else wanted him dead. Already, he was affecting her life. Already, he had tainted her spirit with his vengeful game. That was why he grinned that sadistic smile. He was winning—and he knew it.
Standing and looking at the ferris wheel, Delta shook her head. It was also too easy to trap him up there, and he would not be taken so easily.
Glancing around, Delta saw the lights and heard the noises of eight or nine other rides and knew she would stop them all if she had to.
Running over to the ferris wheel, Delta met Jan, who was standing with the operator and waiting for each seat to come to a stop at the bottom of the platform.
“This isn’t it!” Delta yelled above the carny music. “Too obvious. He’s taken her somewhere where he can get away. Look for bird symbols or clouds or something.”
Jan nodded and turned to say something to the conductor, who stroked his chin as he thought about whatever she had said.
Delta studied the midway. The first three rides were ground rides, so she crossed them off her list. The fourth ride was the teacups, and that didn’t fit. But there was something about the fifth ride that caught her attention. The chairs took the riders up in the air and swirled them around and then rocked them in a mock thundershower before disappearing back into the darkened tent where the ride both began and ended. The ride was called the “Goliath Cirrus.”
“Cirrus,” Delta mumbled. “Cirrus.” A classroom flickered across her memory track; a classroom with a professor she had only once, to fulfill a requirement. He was lecturing about cumulus and . . .
“Cirrus! Cirrus is a type of cloud! He’s taken her in there!” Sprinting across the midway, with Jan following close behind, Delta ran to the front of the “Goliath Cirrus” ride.
“This is it! I’m sure of it!” Delta yelled above the noise. “He’s here.” Delta ran over to the young, zit-faced controller and ordered him to stop the ride. “Did a man and a little blonde girl just go in there?”
The apathetic controller yawned and stretched. “I get lots of people on this ride. I don’t pay much atten—”
Reaching across the controls, Delta yanked him to his feet. “Listen, asshole, this man had black leather gloves on. Did you see him or not?”
Nodding quickly, the controller stammered, “Yeah. Yeah, I remember seeing that dude. Cute little girl.”
“Have they come out yet?”
“I, I don’t think so.”
Delta’s pager went off again, as she thrust the lanky teenager back into his chair. “I said stop this goddamned thing now!”
Flipping a switch, the kid backed off and held his hands up, as if he were being arrested. “Sorry.”
Jan hopped on the first car that came by. “Del, I’ll go through. I’ll drive him toward you. You meet the cars as they exit.”
“Did you call back-up?”
“On their way. Go on.”
Delta turned back to the controller. “No one else goes in there, you understand?”
The boy nodded.
“You send the chairs out to me slowly one at a time.”
“Slowly,” he repeated, as if he wasn’t sure he heard her.
“Is there another way out?”
The teenager shook his head and then nodded. “Yeah, but only the engineers and tech crew know about it.”
Watching Jan disappear through the two cloud-covered curtains, Delta felt her beeper again.
“Remember,” she admonished the controller, as she withdrew her .357. “Send the chairs through slowly.” Leaping over the railing, Delta waited at the mouth of the dark tunnel and signalled for the controller to begin. The first carriage slowly pierced through the darkness and pushed open the double doors, which had a tornado painted across them. Inside, two teenagers, oblivious to the fact that the ride had started again, were making out. When they looked up and saw Delta pointing her gun in their direction, the girl screamed, and the boy wiped his mouth. With a jerk of her head, Delta sent them flying out of the car and scurrying for safer ground.
As the next car made its approach, Delta’s stomach tightened.
This was it.
She could feel it.
The next car was empty, as was the third. Delta slowly licked her lips and tasted blood. In anxious anticipation, she’d bitten her lower lip.
When the fourth car passed her, Delta felt the reverberation once more and tried to ignore it.
“Come on, you bastard,” Delta growled, watching the fifth car emerge. At first, she thought it was empty. But as she peered closer, she could see the sole of a shoe protruding from the bottom of the car.
“Stop!” Delta yelled, jumping over the railing. In an instant, Delta was in the car.
As it slowed to a stop, Delta looked down and saw the still body of the little girl lying on the floor of the car. For a second, Delta thought she saw her move, and reached down to gently lift her from the floor. When Delta touched her arm, she realized the little girl’s body was limp.
“No,” Delta murmured, kneeling on the floor of the carriage. The girl’s hair was in disarray, and her dress was mangled and slightly torn. When Delta turned her around to see if she was breathing, two empty eyes stared back at her, as the head flopped awkwardly to one side.
“No,” Delta moaned, setting the tiny body on the seat of the carriage and feeling the small-boned wrist for a pulse she knew was not there. Already, there was a certain discoloration in her neck, face and lips, and it was difficult for Delta to look at the dark, unmoving, lifeless eyes of the little girl she had failed to save.
Failed to save.
This was a failure worse than any she had ever imagined. She had been given a chance at stopping him and this was the consequence of her inability to do so. Inside, rage grabbed at Delta, replacing the sadness in her spirit. She could handle white-hot anger. It was the sorrow of seeing a tiny body broken by a madman that shook her most.
“Del? Did you find som . . .” Jan pushed through the tornado doors and stared down at the still body. “Oh, no.” Reholstering her gun, Jan barked orders to the controller before doing the same into her radio. When she turned back around, Delta was kneeling over the girl, trying to resuscitate her.
“Del,” Jan said, touching her on the shoulder. “Del, it won’t do any good. Her neck looks broken.”
Moving away, Delta looked down at the crooked neck and slumping head. She was dead. Her life energy had been snuffed out by a man she probably didn’t know. Inhaling deeply and forcing her angry tears back, Delta shook her head.
He had crossed that line and killed a child.
In Delta’s mind, Elson Zuckerman had just signed his own death certificate.
“Del?” Jan whispered, helping her to her feet.
“Fucking bastard,” Delta said, feeling her hands and legs tremble. “Fucking crazy bastard.” Reaching a shaking hand out, Delta closed the little girl’s eyes. She was so young, so innocent. She had done nothing but talk to a man she did not know was evil. Feeling her insides split like stitches busting, Delta fought to control her rising rage. She needed to keep her head. She needed to control the emotions running like the carnival roller coaster over the landscape of her being. He had won this round. Delta swore it would be his last.
Jan bent over and twisted the girl’s hair around her finger as she studied the lifeless face. The child looked like she could be Mariah’s age.
“Homicide and ambulance are on their way.” Squeezing Delta’s shoulder, Jan glanced at Delta’s belt where her pager hung. The red light was flickering. “Del, your pager. You need to answer Connie’s call.”
Still staring at the broken body, Delta barely heard Jan. He had killed her, just like that. He had her little neck in his hands and snapped it like a pencil, and for what? How could he be so cruel and so full of hate that he could destroy a life that had never even touched his? A life that had so much living to do, yet he snuffed it out like it meant nothing. How could such a base individual continue living?
“Delta Stevens, did you hear me?”
Delta shook her head and looked questioningly at Jan. “What?”
“Your beeper. It’s been going off for awhile now. Why don’t you call Connie, and I’ll meet the guys out front. We’ve cordoned off the streets, and Leonard is on his way. I’ll wait here. You go call Connie.”
Glancing down at her beeper, Delta nodded. “I’ll be right over there.”
As Delta’s trembling fingers dialed the phone, she heard the sirens in the distance. They were coming to the aid of a child who could no longer be helped. Pushing away the image of the little blonde girl being zipped up in a black body bag, Delta shivered. This was happening too fast. Things were spinning out of control, and if she didn’t get a grip on him soon, many more people would end up like the little girl. With her ear pressed hard against the phone, Delta heard Connie pick up the phone before it could finish one ring.
“Con?” Delta said, her voice weary and worn. How was she supposed to tell Connie that he had murdered a child?
“Please, Storm. Please tell me he didn’t . . .”
Inhaling deeply, Delta squeezed her eyes closed. There was no easy way to tell her. “I’m afraid—”
“Don’t say it. don’t you dare say it.”
“He . . .” Delta couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“Did he . . . did he break her neck?”
Even with her eyes slammed shut, a teardrop managed to force its way through. “Yes.” Delta heard a muffled sob emit through the phone lines.
“Is she—”
“Yes.”
“And he?”
“I don’t know. He disappeared. It’s possible he may still be in the carnival, but who knows? The Sarge has everyone on it, and Leonard’s on his way.” Delta wiped her eyes. “Con, I am so sorry.”
No response.
“I did everything I could.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“What now?” Every ounce of energy drained from Delta.
“Take care of business there. I can’t help you out tonight. He won, again. He wants to hurt me, and he has. More than anyone could ever imagine.”