Chasing The Dead

Chapter Fifty-Two

Alex stayed in the patio chair while Bethany’s body was bagged and carried out of the trailer. The wooziness she’d felt had passed. Harris approached her.

“You okay to drive yourself home? I can have an officer take you and another one drive your car.”

“Thanks, but I think I can handle it.”

“Okay, then. We’re pretty much wrapped up here.”

“What about Charlotte?”

“We’re combing the area. If she’s on her own, she’s probably fairly close by. If the killer took her, it’s anybody’s guess. We don’t have much to go on.”

“I guess Rossi thinks Judge Steele killed Robin.”

“Yeah, lover’s quarrel and all of that. They’ll have him in custody before you get home.”

She shook her head. “The whole thing is unbelievable. Robin and Judge Steele. How could he do it? How could he kill her?”

“C’mon, Counselor. You spend enough years doing what you and I do and there’s nothing we can’t believe. Look on the bright side. You may not have found the killer you’re looking for, but because of you, Rossi got his guy.”

“Swell.”

Alex took her time going to her car, slow steps less painful than rapid ones. If Rossi was right about Judge Steele, then the judge must have also tried to kill her. But if he had, why invite her to his chambers the next morning? She slid into the driver’s seat, grunting at a flash of pain, and sent Rossi a text, asking him to let her know when he arrested Judge Steele.

As upset as she was about Robin and Judge Steele, she was more worried about Charlotte, ten years old and alone in the world. Had she been home when Bethany was killed and somehow escaped? Was the killer hunting for her because she was a witness? Or had she been out wandering only to discover Bethany’s body when she came home, leaving again because she was afraid and didn’t know what else to do? And if she was on her own, where would she go? Alex could think of only one place: Liberty Park.

She left her car at the north end, just as she had before, making her way south, taking her time, zigzagging from side to side to cover as much ground as possible, calling Charlotte’s name as she went, hearing nothing in reply. The sun was beginning to set, shadows washing in from the west and climbing up the eastern bluff. The ground was covered with a tangle of weeds that grabbed at her ankles, tagging her with burrs and thorns. She caught her foot in a rut, falling to her knees, groaning, her wounds burning.

As Alex neared where Joanie’s body had been found, she hugged the creek bank, hoping to find Charlotte at the water’s edge, but she wasn’t there. The campground was deserted. Even Gladys Knight’s tent was gone. That left the thick woods at the south end, a trek she wasn’t certain she could make. She sat on a tree stump to catch her breath, peering into the creeping dusk for a sign of the girl, a flickering light at the base of the bluff catching her eye.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way toward the light. The closer she got, the more the light danced, and then she realized it was flames coming from a campfire shielded by a low rock wall. A moment later, a voice called out from behind it.

“That’s close enough.”

Alex stopped. “Gladys? Is that you?”

“Who else would I be? The question is who the hell are you?”

“Alex Stone. I talked to you the other day. How are the Pips?”

“Just dandy. Now, go away.”

“What happened to your tent?”

“Blew away. Got me a nice little hollowed-out cave instead. Suits me just fine.”

“I’m looking for the little girl I told you about. Her name is Charlotte.”

“Get lost. Don’t know anybody named Charlotte.”

Alex heard someone rustling around in the cave, then the sound of something being scraped against the rocks and a child humming, though it sounded more like a closed-mouth whine.

Alex scrambled over the wall, finding Gladys sitting cross-legged in front of the fire and Charlotte banging her spatula against the cave. Gladys jumped to her feet, putting herself between Alex and Charlotte.

The hollowed-out cave was exactly that, extending no more than five feet into the base of the bluff, as if it had been carved out with a giant ice cream scoop, the ceiling just high enough for Alex to stand. The campfire was at the mouth of the cave. Gladys’s belongings, including a stack of milk crates filled to the rims, were piled against the back wall.

“You got no right,” Gladys said.

“How long has Charlotte been here?”

“Hmph. Her name’s Charlotte? Never knew what to call her, so I didn’t call her anything. She showed up in the middle of the night last night, same as usual.”

“She can’t stay here. The police are looking for her.”

“Who said anything about staying? She’ll go home when she’s ready like she always does.”

“She can’t, not anymore.”

Gladys scratched her cheek, looking over her shoulder at Charlotte, who was tracing an invisible pattern on the cave wall, oblivious to them. She motioned to Alex to follow her. They walked around the mound of rocks, Gladys leaning against them.

“Why not?”

“Charlotte was living with her mother and aunt in a mobile home park not far from here, and now they’re both dead. Her mother was the woman whose body was found in the creek. Her aunt was murdered last night. Charlotte might have seen who killed both of them.”

Gladys squeezed her eyes tight, shaking her head. “What’s gonna happen to that poor child?”

“I don’t know, but she can’t stay here. I have to call the police and tell them I found her. Someone from Child Protective Services will pick her up, and they’ll probably put her in foster care for the time being.”

“I don’t want no goddamn police coming around here.”

“Then I’ll take her.”

“Like she’d go anywhere with you! She don’t know you. You try and make her and she’ll just run off, sure as hell.”

“Can’t be helped. It’s either me or the cops.”

Gladys tugged at her hair. “Ah, hell! She’ll go with me, so you’ll have to take both of us, but we ain’t goin’ to no goddamn police station.”

“Where else would we go?”

“You got a house, don’t you? Child could use a bath.”

Alex smiled. “Sure. That’ll work.”

They went back into the cave. Charlotte had knocked over the stack of milk crates and was sitting on one of them, hugging a black dress. Alex stepped toward her, but Charlotte retreated, swiveling around on the crate, giving her back to Alex.

“Gladys, where did she-where did you-get that dress?”

Gladys spit in the fire, cocking her head at Charlotte. “She brung it.”

“When?”

“What difference does it make?”

“A lot, maybe. Charlotte’s mother was wearing a black dress the night she was murdered.”

Gladys cocked her head, her rheumy eyes fluttering. “I wouldn’t know nothing about that.”

“I’m not saying you do, but that dress could help us find whoever murdered Charlotte’s mother and aunt.”

Gladys circled the fire, muttering.

“Okay, goddamn it. I mind my own business and see what it gets me! That child showed up in my tent last week with that dress, and when I heard about the body they found in the creek, well, I ain’t stupid.”

“The killer probably stripped the body in the woods and while he was dumping it in the creek, Charlotte must have taken the dress. Which means she could have seen her mother die.”

“Way I figured it.”

A wave of dizziness came over Alex. She pressed a hand against the cave wall to steady herself, the other hand to her forehead.

“What’s the matter with you? You look feverish.”

Alex couldn’t think of a reason not to tell Gladys the truth.

“Somebody stabbed me last night.”

“And people say being homeless is dangerous.” Gladys put her hand on Alex’s cheek. “You’re burning up.”

Alex turned away from her. “I’ll be okay.”

“Not if you keep bleeding like that.”

“What?” Alex reached behind her, feeling her back. Some of her stitches had given way and she was oozing blood.

“You better see a doctor.”

“I’ve got one waiting for me when we get home.”

“Well, ain’t you the lucky one. She know you’re gallivantin’ around?”

“No. She’s called me half a dozen times today and I told her that I was watching television.”

“Well, if she’s waitin’ for you at home, that story ain’t gonna get you too far, but it might be fun to watch you give it a try.” Gladys reached out to Charlotte. “Let’s go, child.”

Holding on to the dress, Charlotte took her hand.