Missing: The Body of Evidence Page 8

A gentle smile appeared on her lips and a feeling of wellbeing washed through her body. He had an expression of the little lost puppy that she recalled begging her dad to buy her as a young girl, when her father had dragged her from the pet shop window crying. Her instinct told her the usual sarcastic flippant reply was not called for. Staring into his eyes, for the first time she could see into his soul. Perhaps, she thought, they were more of a kindred spirit as a couple than she had given them credit. It was just that one in a million reasons he gave that bugged her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and gazed into his eyes.

  ‘I care for you too, and I’m sorry for what I said yesterday.’

  She pulled him towards her and they shared a lingering kiss. As their lips parted, he squeezed her hands. Her heart was pounding so hard, she was sure he could hear it.

  Kyle spoke first. ‘I don’t know what’s going on in your mind, but honestly, if it’s not, you know... right for you, just tell me.’

  She could see he was pleading for reassurance. This was the first time she had seen him act so insecure.

  ‘I’m just in a bad place right now; be patient. I think you’re right, I need some time off. I think the stress of the six-month probation period has caught up with me.’

  He gave her a sort of ‘told you so’ look.

  ‘Good, glad you agree, because I’ve booked a log cabin for us in the Pine Mountain area for this weekend. We go tomorrow at five after work. Now, tell me why Tracy was here last night. I have to get back to work.’

  He seemed so cock sure of himself, like he’d switched to another persona, and she wondered if she had just been played.

  ‘Really? I mean great... can’t wait.’

  Nancy gave him all the details from Tracy’s visit. She found it hard trying to switch from her private life to work; it was like turning a tap on and off, but he seamlessly glided along like spreading butter. The weekend was sounding more and more like a good idea. Without work distractions, she was thinking maybe they would discover each other for who they truly were. She saw Kyle to the door and he turned to her.

  ‘Listen, Logan said to make sure you knew the case on the professor is closed. He’s got something else lined up for you.’ He put his hands on his hips and cocked his head slightly to one side.

  ‘Nancy?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, case closed.’

  ‘Listen, I’m on a stakeout tonight, but I’ll leave my cell phone on vibrate. If you need me, call me.’

  They shared a last kiss and she locked and bolted the door after he left.

  Why is Logan so insistent? Nancy returned to the living room and dialled CSI, only to be surprised when someone answered. The woman on the line told her they were still operational and when she asked about the file on the professor’s case, the woman at reception passed her through to Tracy’s boss.

  ‘Sorry, the file was lost in the fire after the explosion,’ he said. ‘Her findings were still on her PC and hadn’t been uploaded to mainframe. The PC’s hard drive was destroyed in the explosion. Luckily, I have enough background to write up the professor’s case as ‘spontaneous combustion,’ by causes unknown.’

  ‘I have a copy of Tracy’s file.’

  ‘No need, but you can send me a copy. I didn’t get a chance to tell Tracy the CIA had sent prints and a DNA sample to me and they proved it was the professor’s remains at the apartment. The file is on its way to the Coroner’s office now.’

  Nancy replaced the handset. It may be over for him and Logan, but it ain’t for me. She took the pen drive from her purse, inserted it into her computer and downloaded the file. Nancy made two paper copies, attached the downloaded file to an email and sent it for the attention of Tracy’s boss. She picked up the copy of Tracy’s report from her computer desk and hid it under the cushion of her sofa. The other copy she placed in an envelope ready to take to work. Nancy removed the pen drive and placed it in her purse. At least I know the professor must have been one of theirs, or at least one of their targets. Interesting, now I just need to find out where the janitor and his son fit into the scheme of things.

  Chapter 20

  With Kyle gone, Nancy settled down to read the newspaper. There was nothing interesting in the Los Angeles Times, other than a police shootout down on West Washington Boulevard; that, and an article, which raised a smile, about Madame Tussaud’s, who were claiming their Angeline Jolie waxwork was better than the Hollywood Wax Museum’s effort. It sounded to her like a schoolgirl; claiming her breasts were shaping up better than the girl who stood next to her at the gym changing room mirror. Nancy flicked through the pages. The weather forecast predicted unusual high temperatures over the weekend for the time of year. Need to pack. She headed for the bedroom.

  Her weekend travel bag was almost out of reach on a high shelf. She jumped and grabbed for it a few times before finally making a connection. The bag tumbled out, with a whole host of other bric-a-brac and her backpack, sending her careening backwards onto the bed. She sat up, forlorn at the pile before her, before setting about packing for her weekend trip.

  With the chore finished, she returned to the living room, sat on the sofa and turned on the television. After a minute channel hopping, she turned off the TV and went to make a coffee. Nancy poured the boiling water and savoured the aroma as it hit the granules. She grabbed a milk carton from the refrigerator and tipped it over the cup. Thick blobs of foul smelling curdled milk oozed out. Yuk, holy crap. With the contents dumped down the sink, and the carton washed out, she headed for the living room, put on her shoulder holster and jacket. Grabbing her purse, she set off for the supermarket.

  At her car door, she looked up to the heavens. The moon looked like a waning crescent in a clear sky. Nancy opened the door and worked her way onto the seat. She opened the glove box and stowed her purse before belting up and closing the car door. A dust covering on the windshield obscured her vision and she gave it a blast of water and turned the wiper control. A twist of the key in the ignition and with an arm over the back of the seat, she reversed out, stopped and set off to hit the road.

  Nancy could hardly remember how she had ended up on Ronald Reagan Freeway. Her mind had tangled, like strands of spaghetti thrown on a dish. The trauma of visiting her dad, breaking down in front of Kyle and trying to work out what Astral Chemical’s connection could possibly be to the CIA had all fought for her attention, with each strand coming to a dead end.

  The task on hand came to mind. She turned off the freeway, picked up Porter Ranch Drive and turned right to head toward Wal-Mart. Only a month back she had been here on business. She had assisted the other detectives taking statements from witnesses to a pepper-spraying incident during a Black Friday melee. Nancy parked, took her purse from the glove compartment, and made her way inside the store.

  With the festive season in full swing, she was surprised at how quiet it was with five minutes to closing. In contrast to Black Friday, she thought she could have driven an RV down the aisles with ease.

  Nancy tried to shut out the festive goods on offer. That was the next nightmare she had to face alone and a date on the calendar she tried to ignore. To add insult to injury, she found herself in the children’s clothing section. A turn of her heels, and a quick reverse brought her back on mission. Nancy picked up a carton of milk and mooched around the aisles looking for a microwave meal. She stopped and picked up a frozen-lasagne, with exactly the same packaging she had found at the Kelly’s apartment, and headed for the checkout. She paid for the goods and set off back to her car.

  Her hands felt clammy as she gripped the steering wheel with the engine idling. ‘Case closed,’ Logan had said, re-enforced by Kyle. She didn’t know if it was out of some sense of stubbornness, or idiocy, but she couldn’t let go and set off to the Kelly’s apartment.

  ***

  There were no lights on in the apartment when she crawled past in her car and parked some way down the road. She began to wonder if she was unhinged and going through a crazy stalker stag
e. Persistence and following your nose was one thing, but it was beyond credibility in her mind that she could just walk up and knock on the door at that time of night to ask how his son was, or whatever other lame excuse she could conjure up. At least the logic of her notion told her she had some sanity left. Nonetheless, she got out of the car and walked behind the Kelly’s apartment, to see if there were any lights showing.

  The moon was not giving much light around back, there were no lights on in the bedrooms and she edged toward the window. There were no curtains at any of the windows, which she thought was odd, and made her way around to the front of the block. She looked at her watch under a street lamp; it was ten-thirty four. She recalled the woman at number five left for her night shift at eleven o’ clock, and maybe she could ask her some questions about the janitor. Nancy froze. There were no curtains at the front windows of the janitor’s apartment. She inched toward the window to the living room window and peered inside. It was empty.

  Nancy rushed through the entrance, up the stairway and knocked on the woman’s door.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Detective Roberts, we spoke the other day.’

  After the rattle of the door chain and the sound of bolts being drawn, the door opened.

  ‘Come in. It’s late. I need to be going to work soon. How can I help?’

  The woman was polite enough, but Nancy could see she wasn’t pleased.

  ‘I see the janitor has moved out of his apartment. Do you know where to and when?’

  ‘Moved out this afternoon, around two I reckon, when I went to see if I had any mail.’

  ‘Did he say where he was going?’

  ‘Didn’t see him, I thought maybe he was in prison after your gorillas knocked his door down.’

  The woman kept glancing at the time on her wristwatch, clearly agitated.

  ‘How do you know he moved then?’

  ‘Like I said, I was going to check my mailbox. I couldn’t get past a woman who sat on the stairs with her arms around that young man. I gave you a description of the boy, if you remember. I had to ask them to move. Then the moving guys blocked my way, carrying a sofa.’

  ‘So you didn’t see Kelly.’

  ‘No, the same guys who painted the apartment where the fire was turned up after all the furniture had gone, with cans of paint.’

  ‘Did you get a look at the moving truck?’

  ‘No, I just emptied my mail box and went back upstairs. I only noticed the decorators when I went to the store, but I didn’t take any notice of a vehicle.’

  Nancy sat pondering. The woman stood up, her facial expression indicated Nancy had outstayed her welcome. The fact that the decorators were the same people who had painted the professor’s apartment after the fire, nailed a connection to the CIA. Then she thought, maybe they hired locals for the job. The woman beckoned Nancy to leave with the nod of her head toward the door and a glance at her watch. She followed her to the door, firing a few final questions.

  ‘What about the woman, can you describe her?’

  ‘Late forties; smartly dressed; brown hair and wearing glasses.’

  ‘Was her hair tied back, and where her glasses half rimmed?’

  The back of Nancy’s neck tensed as the woman locked her door and stood back. The woman’s eyes looked upward and inwards, as if she were searching the dark corridors of her mind, pensively considering the question and hoping for an answer.

  ‘No, sorry. I can’t remember.’

  Nancy glanced at her watch. It was 10:40 p.m.

  Chapter 21

  Friday morning and Nancy was lying in bed in a state of paralysis. Unable to move a muscle, her eyes popped open. She fought to catch her breath and suddenly sat bolt upright. The duvet slipped off the edge of the bed and onto the floor. Beads of sweat ran down her brow and stung her eyes, but she felt ice cold. She had just had the weirdest of nightmares. She was fuzzy headed and disorientated, besides having a sense of absolute panic. Whimpering hysterically, she drew her knees to her chest, grasped her ankles and began to rock to-and-fro.

  There was no way she could figure out if it had been a nightmare. Everything that transpired, had taken place in the familiar surroundings of her bedroom.

  In her nightmare, she had awoken lying in bed; everything in the room was in place as it should be. She experienced a great pressure on her chest, struggled to breathe, and was pinned to the bed by an invisible force. Try as she may, she could not move any part of her body. A hazy vision of the janitor’s son, David, had appeared at the foot of the bed staring down at her and laughing. His laugh sounded metallic, like it was vibrating in an echo chamber. His vision took the form of a naked body made up of flames. He was holding his arms out in front of him, his palms facing toward her as if he were controlling an invisible force. One of his hands waved, beckoning, and the duvet slid down her body leaving her vulnerable. Even with all her will power, she couldn’t call out, or move a muscle.

  Nancy’s mind had screamed for him to leave her alone. He had withdrawn his hands and covered his face with them as if protecting himself from the pleas in her mind. A faint memory passed through her mind of an awareness of tears in her eyes and the futility of her managing to move the small finger on her left hand. And then the vision of David faded. Finally, Nancy managed to break free of the force that pinned her down.

  That’s when she sat up, gasping for breath. What she was still finding hard to figure out was if she really had been unable to move and breathe, and if the vision had been the result of a lack of oxygen in her brain causing her to hallucinate.

  Whatever had happened, she just wanted to get the hell out of the bedroom. Nancy swung her legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand, but her legs buckled under her and she landed sprawled on the floor. What the hell’s happening? Her head pounded as if she were taking a beating. Her fingers clawed at the mattress and she hauled herself onto her feet. She took a moment to take short breaths, which seemed to work and she started to feel normality return. Nancy stumbled to the living room, using the walls for support where she could and made a final effort to get to her computer desk. Her elbows rested on the desk and she stretched out her fingers. The hands and fingers trembled, as if a force seven on the Richter scale was shaking her. Gradually, she stopped shaking and the pounding in her head settled down. Her backside managed to find the chair and she sank down onto the cushion. Nancy picked up the mug of cold coffee she’d left out from the night before and guzzled it down in one gulp, hoping a shot of caffeine would help.

  Logic started to kick in as she began to think straight and she wondered if she had just experienced an asthma attack in her sleep. She hadn’t had hay fever since she was a child, but the experience came a close second to what she could recollect. Damned asthma at my age.

  Nancy dialled her doctor’s number and the answering machine picked up the call. A garbled message spewed out of her mouth. She wished she could cancel the message and start again, as she tried to explain why she thought she needed an urgent appointment. The call ended, with her leaving her name and cell phone number and she hung up the phone.

  She sat back, tried to relax and took a moment. Maybe, she thought, the caffeine had done the trick. Her hands were no longer shaking, her head was clear and she felt able to breathe normally. Fingers gripped the arms of her chair for support and she stood. The strength in her legs had returned and she moved about her apartment, opening all the windows, finishing in the bathroom, where she turned on the shower.

  Nancy slipped off her nightdress, donned a bathing cap and stepped into the shower. The spray of warm water hitting her face had never felt so good. She took hold of the shower gel and started to wash herself. Thoughts of what had happened wouldn’t leave her mind and she began to dwell on the loneliness she had felt. The fear was that if she hadn’t broken free there was no one there to save her. She wondered if that was maybe what the dream was about... her being alone.

  Soap caught in her eye and as she
reached out for the bath towel, she slipped on the tiles, her arms and hands flailing to stop her falling. It was too late and she hit the floor of the shower tray, banging the side of her head in the process. Her skin started to sting as hot water hit her body. She reached out to try to grab the faucet, but she couldn’t locate it. Boiling hot water spray scalded her body. Her other hand felt the towel and she pulled it over her and clawed with her hands as she searched to open the shower door. The door slid open; she dove and finished spread-eagled on the bathroom floor. She desperately rubbed her eyes with the towel. When she finally managed to open her eyes, the bathroom was full of steam. Nancy flushed the toilet, paused and then tested the shower water. Flushing the toilet had done the trick, the water had cooled and she turned off the shower. Thank you, Kyle. If it wasn’t for him flushing the toilet the last time she took a shower while he was here, she wouldn’t have known what to do in that situation.

  She couldn’t be certain if she had caught the faucet with her hand, or if it was faulty. Nancy now knew it was going to be one of those days. The best thing she thought she could do at that moment was to get the hell out of there, put her bags in the trunk, get to work and to keep her head down until it was time to go with Kyle to the cabin. She dressed, picked up her baggage for the weekend trip and headed for her car.

  The journey to the office was slow as she hit heavy traffic. When she finally arrived in the parking lot at the station, her cell phone rang and she took the call from her doctor’s receptionist.

  ‘Can you make it for twelve-thirty?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure, it’s as good a time as any.’

  Nancy hung-up and sat a while. Damn, I feel like a fraud now. Here’s hoping he doesn’t say I shouldn’t go on the weekend vacation.

  Chapter 22

  Logan was leaning on the desk at reception talking to Claire when Nancy arrived at headquarters. They stopped talking, glanced her way and nodded. Nancy responded with a smile and greeted them both.