“Can I talk to him?”
“He’s AWOL.”
“Still?” I asked, growing concerned until my utter stupidity hit me like a ton of masonry. “If Sylvia is behind this and it has to do with the fact that the jury bullied her and put an innocent man in prison, a man with whom she fell in love, what do you think she would do to the arresting officer?” I asked him.
“Son of a bitch,” he said. “She wasn’t at the news conference.”
“She was when I was there.”
“And so was your uncle.” He hung up before I could comment further, but I knew he would put every available resource on it.
Before I could put Misery into drive and peel out, Cookie called. I hesitated, unsure of what to tell her.
“Cook,” I said when I answered.
“Anything?” she asked.
“At Sylvia’s house? No. The cops searched the entire place.”
“Well, her parents have passed away, but I did find some property that belonged to them in Tijeras.”
“That’s just thirty minutes from here.”
“Yep. They owned a cabin.”
“And what a perfect place to take someone you’d just forced to write a suicide note and abducted.”
“That’s where I’d take someone I’d forced to write a suicide note, then abducted.” When I hesitated even longer, she said, “I’ll text you the address. It’ll take you a little over half an hour to get there from your current location.”
“Cook,” I said, biting my lip, “have you heard from Uncle Bob?”
“Not in a few. Why? What did you say to him?”
“I wasn’t very nice, but that’s not the problem. He was the lead officer in Reyes’s case.”
“I know, hon. I don’t underst —” My meaning sank in. I waited for her to absorb the reality of the situation. “Where is he?” she asked, growing wary.
“We can’t find him. He’s not answering his cell and he hasn’t been at the station in over an hour. Sylvia was there, and she’s gone, too.”
“Charley,” she said, her voice a whisper.
“She forces them to write suicide notes,” I rushed to assure her. “And even after that, she doesn’t kill them right away. There’s still time, Cook. We’ll find him.”
“Oh, my god, Charley.”
“Reyes is headed your way. Explain what’s going on, and tell him to get his fine ass in that muscle car of his and meet us out there. And call the captain. Tell him what you found.”
“Okay. Okay, I’ll do that now. Charley, please,” she said, pleading with me.
“We got this, Cook. We’re the best team ever. You solved this one. You. Let me do the rest.”
17
I already know I’m going to hell.
At this point, it’s really go big or go home.
— T-SHIRT
The sun set just as we pulled onto a long drive that, according to the GPS, was the road to Sylvia’s parents’ cabin. Tijeras had trees galore, but this area was out of the way and pretty barren. If she was out there, she’d likely see us coming.
I turned off Misery’s lights just in case and drove slowly. There was still enough of a pink afterglow on the horizon to lead the way. We crept over a small hill and were engulfed in trees once again. I had no choice but to turn on the headlights, but hopefully the trees would cover our approach.
After about a mile, we came to another clearing. A cabin sat in the middle, its windows illuminated.
“Stop here,” Osh said, jumping out of Misery before I’d managed a full stop.
He closed the door quietly and sprinted through the trees as I killed the lights again and tried to call the captain. No signal. Just in case, I sent a text to Cookie explaining that someone was at the cabin and telling her to call the captain to let him know. I hit send, then jumped out and followed Osh into the surrounding woods. He was going for the back of the house. Less likely to be seen that way, as the front was lined with massive plate-glass windows.
Scattered about the grounds were several departed. They were strategically placed to watch every opening, every nook and cranny. Reyes’s spies? I definitely saw the woman in white, the woman Reyes had been talking to who’d drowned in her flowing evening gown. That was definitely the way I wanted to go: in style.
She turned around, spotted me, and disappeared. “Hello,” she said, reappearing by my side, causing me to jump.
I looked up from my crouching position. “Hey. Did Reyes send you?”
“He did. We haven’t spotted any yet.”
“Any?”
“The Twelve. As far as I can tell, they aren’t aware of your presence. Here all alone. At night. Completely vulnerable.” She scolded me with a gathering of her delicate brows. If I were anyone else, being scolded by a dead woman in an evening gown with makeup smeared down her face would have freaked me out. Thankfully, I was me.
I scolded her right back. “My uncle might be in there. Can you see anyone in the house?”
“I’m not worried about in the house. Reyes sent me to guard you, not your uncle.”
I straightened to my full height. She still had two inches on me. In my own defense, she was in heels. “Can’t you just do a quick look-see? Pop in and out and just tell me if she’s in there and who she’s with?”
She didn’t answer me. She was looking toward the drive, where another set of headlights was approaching. If they belonged to Sylvia Starr and she saw my Jeep, she could do anything to Uncle Bob, assuming she did actually have him. How that tiny lady could kidnap anyone was beyond me. We knew she’d drugged at least one of the victims, Mrs. Chandler’s husband. She could have used Rohypnol, but how would she have done that with Ubie? It wasn’t as though they were having drinks into which she could slip the date rape drug in the parking lot at the station.