Be Still Page 11

  There was a voice from behind him.

  “Nash.”

  Nash turned around. Stepping toward him was Dale … and Mira Lyndon.

  Dale’s leather jacket was draped over her shoulders. Bandages were visible. She looked frightened. And Dale looked determined, cold.

  “Jesus Christ!” Nash said, stepping toward him. “What is this? What the hell have you done, Dale??”

  “Mira and I are leaving.”

  Dale put his hand on Mira Lyndon’s shoulder and guided her forward. They walked past Nash and into the rain, each of them instantly soaked. The raindrops plopped on Dale’s leather jacket, running in waves down Mira’s back.

  Nash followed. The rain washed over him. He was instantly cold. His hair weighed down against his head.

  “Dale!”

  Dale didn’t stop, didn’t turn around.

  “Dale, goddammit, she’s hurt! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Dale finally turned around. He and Mira faced him.

  “I thought we were in this together,” Nash said.

  Dale shook his head. “No, Nash. You’re done here.”

  Chapter Thirty

  “Then he points a gun at you,” Ventress said.

  Nash nodded.

  She’d said it in the leading way, trying to further trying to paint a picture to the other people in the room. But Nash remembered what it had been like. The look on Dale’s face when he did and the Model 36 at him. It was a determined look, resolute, and he wasn’t going to let Nash come with him. But there was nothing in the expression that said they would actually shoot him. That was something a person like Pinterest could never understand. The way to people communicate without saying a word.Pointing a gun at another person is a serious thing. But the non-verbals had spoken for themselves.

  “That’s right. And told me I needed to get out of town. But HSPD intercepted me at the motel, so I’m guessing they found out pretty quickly what Dale had done.”

  Sadler leaned forward in his seat.

  “You’re damn right we did. And we’re gonna catch that son of a bitch soon enough.”

  “You’re not going to do shit, Detective Sadler. Your department is merely assisting my investigation.” She turned back to Nash. “Conley gave you absolutely no clue why he did what did? None at all?”

  “Not a bit. He said that the less I knew, the safer I’d be.”

  Sadler threw up his hands. “Oh, come on! He’s lying. This guy’s just as nuts as Conley.”

  “Quiet,” Ventress said. And then to Nash: “By your own admission, Conley makes his own rules, acts impulsively. And now he’s gone so far as to kidnap an attempted murder victim from the hospital, the killer’s girlfriend. Still you defend him. Why?”

  It was clear to Nash that this lady just wasn’t getting it. Even though she was obviously a dedicated law enforcer—a field steeped in righteous concepts and lofty ideals—she just couldn’t seem to comprehend how one human being could have strong faith in another, even if they’d been hurt by the other person in some way.

  “Because he does the things he does based on a code of honor. Whatever he’s done since he left the hospital yesterday, I’m certain it’s been noble.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  As Dale and Mira quickly walked away from the hospital in the pouring rain, Dale began to formulate a plan. He had them going in the direction of the Grand Promenade. A park. A place to regroup. And then they would go from there.

  This planning was not only immediately necessary, but it also served a critical second purpose. It was needed distraction, something to keep his mind centered on the present and away from the immediate past. Because the realization of what he had done hadn’t quite struck him yet.

  Taking a witness, the victim...

  He wasn’t going to focus on it. He was going to remain centered on the present.

  “I’m gonna find a place for us to stay low for a while. Until I can get this sorted out. They’re going to be watching for us. They’ll have all exits to town monitored. It’ll need to be somewhere in town. Like an abandoned building or—”

  “I have a place we can stay. It’s safe,” Mira said. “We need to take Goat Rock Trail to get there.”

  A few minutes later, Dale and Mira were sloshing through a soaking wet trail, so wet that a small stream of water had formed, cutting through the mud. Dale’s boots suctioned in the market, and all manner of moisture it’s soaked through them. The wet clothes misery that he despise so much was on him in full force.

  But at least the trail was providing privacy and an escape. They were the only ones out.

  “Luckily no on hikes in the rain,” Dale said, slipping in the mud again.

  Mira pointed. "That’s Goat Rock.” Ahead of them, a large rock formation jutted out of the side of the mountain. “We have to get off the trail from here on out.”

  They stepped into the woods.

  Dale sniffed the dry air as he in Mira ducked into the mouth of the cave. As he brushed the wet hair out his face, he took in his new surroundings. The cave was the size of a small bedroom. Squarish in shaped. In one corner was a flashlight and a large jug of water. In the other was a ratty mattress with a few scattered blankets and a couple pillows

  “This was my hideout when I was a kid,” Mira said. “To get away from my father. He … was no good. I dragged mattress all the way from our house, through the woods and up the mountain. A ten year old girl. Can you believe that?”

  Dale smiled at her.

  “Have you been here recently?” he said, pointing toward the flashlight and jug of water.

  “Like I said, as a kid, I used to come up here to get away from my father. But I’ve also started coming up here the last couple years to get away from Clyde. Whenever I knew he was out with one of those other girls. It makes me feel safe. Does that seem weird to you?”

  "Not at all.”

  He noticed a large eye bolt screwed into the walk wall over the mattress. He pointed at it, gave her a confused shrug.

  “Oh, yes. I hung a painting there when I was a kid,” she said. “Something happy, something to help me forget my home life.”

  “Your eye bolt was a bit big,” Dale said with a smile. “You could have hung a twenty-gallon drum off that thing.”

  She chuckled, shrugged. “It’s what I had.”

  Dale gestured to the mattress.

  "Lie down. Please. We need you to rest. I’ll try to figure out when you need to take your pills.”

  Mira nodded and walked to the mattress. She covers with one of the blankets.

  Dale opened the pharmacy bag and inspects the bottles, squinting at the directions printed on the sides.

  “How did you figure it out?"

  Dale looked down at her in the bed.

  “That Sadler’s protecting Clyde?”

  She nodded.

  “When Sadler first told me and Nash about Clyde, he said that he knew of Clyde. But when I saw the photos on the wall at Sullivan’s, where Clyde spends so much of his time, it sure looked like they were close friends, more than just mere acquaintances. The photos also showed them both with a bunch of women, and by this point national had been learning about Clyde tendencies with women. Which got me to thinking, why was Clyde lying about his relationship to the serial killer and why were they both hanging out with so many women together.? Got me to wondering is are Clyde and Saddler in this together some how? Is Sadler somehow not only protecting Clyde, but is he feeding him with the victims? Is he one of the killers too?”

  “Well, aren’t you just Sherlock Holmes?”

  "I’d have preferred you to say James Bond, but thanks.” Dale gave her a grin. “It looks like you won’t need your antibiotic for a while, but do you need a pain pill?”

  She shook her head, wearing a polite smile. “I’m fine at the moment. Thank you.” She leaned up on the mattress, balancing on an elbow, looking directly at Dale. “There’s something else you should know. Somethin
g that might help you figure all this out.”

  Dale stepped toward her. “I’m listening.”

  “This is.… Really embarrassing. Mortifying.”

  Dale spoke to her earnestly. “I need to know anything I can to help catch Clyde, Mira. Whatever you say, there will be no judgment from me.”

  “Clyde and Bill are the best of friends. And they share everything. Everything. The first time Clyde suggested to me… I didn’t believe him. I thought it was some sort of fantasy of his. It disgusted me. But he kept pressuring and pressuring until finally I ended up in a room with the both of them. He watched. Can you believe that? That was part of his whole thing. Watching. They’d trade back and forth. This went on for months. Eventually neither one of them was the watcher. They were both participants. I hated it so much that we had a fight, and Clyde told that he had plenty of other opportunities with his other women. After that, he’d hardly touch. And he did just as he said. He and Bill would run through those other girls. God knows how many of them. But they had a few regulars. The ones who’ve been killed so far. So when you say that you think that Bill could be involved and not just protecting Clyde… I think your. Onto something.”

  “I’m … so sorry.”

  “You must think I’m worthless. That I’m garbage.”

  Dale stepped closer, got to his Need beside the bed.

  “No. No, no, no.”

  “That’s the way they looked at me. Like a piece of garbage. Looming over me…”

  She brought a hand to her face, began crying.

  Dale took her free hand between hers, patted it reassuringly.

  “It’s gonna be all right. We’re gonna get this figured out.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  An hour had passed. Mira was now resting in the bed. She’d taken her antibiotic and a pain pill, and both of them had drunk water from the jug.

  Dale sat by the mouth of the cave, staring forward at the opposite wall, deep in thought. Earlier, he had recognized that the immediate rush of activity and planning was a distraction for him from the realization of what he’d done. And now that there was some relative quiet, some relative peace, the thought intruded upon his mind. Completely, fully realized.

  He had taken a witness away from a murder investigation.

  This could get very bad very fast. But he wasn’t one to dwell. So he would put it out of his mind again. And besides, dwelling was the last thing he should be doing right now. Mira’s condition and everything that came with it—getting her to shelter, persuading her to rest, monitoring her meds, pondering how to get her food—needed to come first. And it was providing a welcome distraction.

  Suddenly, her voice cracked through the silence, making him twitch.

  “I did love him, you know.”

  Dale turned.

  “Really loved him,” she continued. “For way too long.” She paused. “That must seem crazy to you.”

  “No. Trust me. I’ve seen crazier.”

  “What about you?”

  “Am I crazy? I guess a little. Aren’t we all?”

  Mira laughed.

  “I mean, do you have someone you love?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever?”

  Dale didn't respond immediately. This wasn’t something he normally talked about. He tried not to even think about it. “I’ve only had one real girlfriend. And the L word was a bit of a contentious point between us.”

  “What was her name?”

  Dale looked back at her. She had turned around on the mattress so that her head was now at the foot end, getting close to him. Her head was in her hands, elbows beneath. Like a little girl at a slumber party. Asking the gross boy about his girlfriends.

  Dale reminded himself what had happened to her lest than twenty-four hours earlier. He could oblige her.

  “Allie,” he said.

  “She must’ve been pretty special if she’s the only real girlfriend you’ve ever had.”

  He thought of Allie then. The dark red hair. The occasional bouts of sarcasm. The smile. “She was a special gal, that’s for sure.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  Dale really didn’t like talking about things like this. Relationships. Emotion. Bleh.

  Come on, man, his inner voice said. Her boyfriend tried to kill her this morning.

  “I met Allie on an assignment,” he said. “She and her father were treasure hunters. She’s tenacious. Smart. Tough as hell in some ways, and in some ways incredibly soft. Red hair, curly freckles. Curves like you would not believe.”

  “And you broke her little heart?”

  “Actually, she broke mine.”

  “Do you still think about her?”

  Dale shrugged. “Against my better judgement, she does pop into my head from time to time.”

  “Good memories or bad?”

  “Good. I try to filter out the bad in life. You know, it’s funny—the memory that sticks out the most to me is this one time in bed.”

  Mira groaned and let out a small laugh. “In bed. Of course. Such a guy way of remembering someone.”

  “Not like that,” Dale said. “Just literally in bed together. Sleeping. And I woke up.”

  Allie’s apartment. Years ago.

  The window was open. Allie liked the sleep that way. She liked natural air, even in the middle of the city.

  She was spooned against Dale, asleep. His arm was around her, nestled in the curve above her hip.

  He was awake. He stared past Allie to the window. The sun hadn’t come up yet. A bit of light from the streetlight outside her window came into the room. His attention turned to the back of her head, the mass of curly hair right in front of his face.

  He buried his nose in it, closed his eyes, and inhaled.

  Allie stirred awake. She looked back over her shoulder for a moment before letting her head fall back to the pillow.

  “What you doing?"

  “Smelling your hair.”

  “Really, Dale. Why are you awake?”

  “I tolds ya,” he said in a thick drawl. “I’s smellin’ yer hair. You smell real nice, purdy lady.”

  “You’re weirder than a blind optometrist. At least I didn’t catch you playing with my boobs or something.”

  She rolled over, faced him, put her hand on his face, stroked her finger back and forth over his stubble.

  “You like the smell of my hair?”

  “It smells like ... I don’t know, kind of clean but also kind of like a really subtle perfume. Or wildflowers, maybe.”

  “It’s lavender, goofball. Essential oil. From the natural shampoo I use.”

  “No. I know what your shampoo smells like. It’s not just that. It’s you.”

  She looked at him for a moment, still rubbing his cheek.

  “I love you, Dale.”

  Dale smiled and kissed her on her forehead.

  The ethereal look on Allie’s face faded, became a bit pained.“You still can’t say it back.”

  Dale didn't respond, just continued with his smile.

  “You know, if you’re smelling a person’s hair at four in the morning, it means you love them.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Shh.”

  She squeezed up against him, resting her face on his chest, head under his chin.

  “Just be quiet. Let’s get another hour or two of sleep.”

  “Why couldn’t you say it back to her?”

  Dale paused before answering. He’d been reminding himself what Mira had been through, but there were some things he just wasn’t going to share, no matter what had happened to her

  “It’s a long story.” He stood up and walked toward the supplies. “You need your antibiotic. Then we need to get some rest. I’m gonna head into town tomorrow to see what I can dig up.”

  He picked up the pharmacy bag and started going through the contents. There was a noise behind him. Mira had gotten out of bed.

  “Hey, what are you doing? You shouldn’t be up.” />
  Mira went to the water bucket.

  “Water. I’ll need some for the pill. And you haven’t had any fluids in at least an hour.”

  “I can get—.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  She took the lid off the water jug, grabbed the pair of tin cups sitting beside it, and ladled water into them. She walked over to him, reaching one of the cups in his direction.

  “Good for what ails ya.”

  Dale took the cup, trading her an antibiotic capsule. While she took her pill, Dale downed his cup of water. She was right. He was parched.

  When he’d drained it, he smacked his lips together, trying to decipher the taste.

  “Huh,” he said. “This tastes different from the water I had earlier. Bit of a metallic taste.”

  “Oh, yes, that’s understandable,” she said. “Each of the springs in town has a different mineral composition, which gives each one a different taste. People have their favorites.”

  Dale took her empty cup from her and placed both cups by the jug. He pointed at the mattress. “Someone tried to ... really hurt you this morning, and you haven’t slept yet. It’s time for you to get some rest.”

  “Okay.” She walked over to the mattress, climbed under the blankets again.

  Dale lowered himself to the cave floor and stretched out. The rock floor immediately dug into his back. It was going to be a long night. Maybe if he—

  “Hey.”

  Dale turned. Mira was propped up on an elbow in the bed.

  “There’s no need for you to sleep on the rock. It’s a queen-size mattress. There’s plenty of room.”

  It was an incredibly kind offer from someone with bandages all over her, someone who should have been in a hospital bed. “I’ve slept on a lot worse. I’m fine, thank you.”