Kill Her Again

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“ Evan had a seizure. Looks like epilepsy.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Worthington muttered. His voice sounded as if it were coming through a wire stretched between two tin cans.

Anna hated cell phones.

She had considered calling Royer, had known it was proper protocol, but hadn’t felt like dealing with the inevitable headache. She figured she was sparing him one as well.

Instead, she’d dug out the business card Worthington had slipped her just as she and Evan were climbing into the cruiser, and had called him directly.

“I’m sure glad we had that medic take a look at him,” Worthington said sourly.

“It’s not like he was wearing a sign. But Pope told me if he’d known, he never would’ve put him under.”

“I wouldn’t think so. Is Evan all right?”

“I’m sure he’s been better. The hotel doctor is checking him over.”

“Hotel doctor? At the Oasis?”

“I have a feeling it’s one of Pope’s poker buddies.”

“Figures,” Worthington said. “What about the session? You have any luck?”

“Not much, but it may be enough. Turns out the babysitter broke the house rules and took the kids on a surprise field trip. Introduced them to a guy Evan thinks was her boyfriend-only he’s probably twice her age.”

“That sounds promising. You get a description?”

“Adult male, first name Rick. Dark hair, eyebrow ring, dragon tattoo on his neck. Drives a black Ford Mustang with a flame on the side.”

“Should be easy enough to track. I’ll put out an alert and we’ll check with Tammy’s friends, but it doesn’t sound like anyone from around here.”

Judging by the neighbors who had stood gawking in the street, Anna wasn’t surprised. Ludlow was more Travis Tritt than Tommy Lee.

Then she remembered the photo on the Fairweathers’ camera and a thought struck her.

“Didn’t you say the carnival’s still in town?”

There was a pause on the line, Worthington’s silence filled by an annoying digital static. Then he said, “A carny. I should’ve thought of that. Those lowlifes are always hitting on the high school girls. They’ve got an encampment on a vacant lot next to the campus. If he’s still around, ten to one that’s where we’ll find him.”

“Whatever you do,” Anna said, “approach with caution. If he’s our guy and he’s got Kimberly with him…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll do a little reconnaissance before we strike. You want to be part of this?”

Anna felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. “Definitely.”

“Then you’d better get back here ASAP. We’ll need time to organize, but I don’t want to drag this thing out. Not if there’s a chance the girl’s still alive.”

“What about Evan?”

“Sounds like he needs to stay put for a while. Leave him with Danny.”

Anna looked around the hotel corridor, noting the stained carpet and faded wallpaper. This was no place for a seven-year-old boy.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“He’ll be fine,” Worthington said. “I’ll make some calls and get someone from social services out there as soon as possible.”

“And if Pope objects?”

“He won’t.”

“He didn’t seem too thrilled about this whole proposition in the first place. And to be honest, I’m not sure he’s entirely stable.”

Worthington laughed, but it was a dry one, with little humor attached. “I’ve known Danny Pope for nearly forty years. Considering what he’s been through, he’s about as stable as they come.”

Anna thought about this and, despite her initial misgivings concerning the entire enterprise, decided Worthington was right. Evan had fallen asleep shortly after his seizure, and social services would probably be out here before he even woke up. It didn’t make much sense to sit around and stare at him.

There was Kimmie to think about.

A killer to catch.

And… something more.

Call it fate, a feeling, just a sliver of intuition, but Anna suddenly felt as if what had happened out here in the desert was somehow related to her visions.

Was that even possible?

The onslaught of images that had assaulted her back at the crime scene seemed to have been triggered by the photo of Rita Fairweather and her kids. The Ferris wheel in the background. The house of mirrors. And although she knew, instinctively, that the little girl plaguing that dark corner of her mind was not Kimmie-not even close-there was something synchronistic about those images. About this case.

Something about it all that just… fit.

She wasn’t sure how-wouldn’t even try to guess why-but she knew that she was meant to be here. Meant to be part of this.

Thoughts of sideshow psychics once again rose from the back of her brain. Maybe she was psychic after all.

Or just plain nuts.

When she returned to Pope’s room, the so-called hotel doctor was finishing up his exam. He was an old guy, with rheumy eyes, who smelled faintly of Preparation H and carried the distinct air of a man who, at one time in his career, would have been perfectly comfortable performing backroom abortions.

“Vital signs are all stable,” he said, rising from the side of the bed. “He’ll be fine in an hour or two. Best thing now is to let him sleep.”

Stuffing a stethoscope into his black bag, the doctor nodded to Anna and Pope, then headed back to the casino or wherever it was he’d come from. When the door closed behind him, Anna turned and told Pope about the phone call with Worthington, immediately broaching the subject of babysitting.

Pope balked. Big-time.

“Do I look like I’m equipped to take care of a kid?” He gestured to their surroundings.

“Worthington said you wouldn’t mind.”

“Nice of him to consult me first. But that’s Jake for you. Always trying to keep me engaged. He hasn’t quite accepted the fact that I’m a lost cause.”

“A lost cause with a flair for the dramatic,” Anna said.

Pope frowned. “That’s why I do a show six nights a week. You want tickets?”

“What I want is for you to keep an eye on Evan.”

Pope shook his head. “I promised Jake two hours. No more, no less.”

“Then you still have some time left. It’s only until social services gets here. I wouldn’t leave him, but-”

“Then don’t.”

“Look,” Anna said, studying him intently. “I don’t know if you’re enjoying this woe-is-me act, or you just can’t help yourself, but I saw the way you interacted with Evan, and I know you know exactly what he’s going through right now.”

Pope faltered a bit. Seemed thrown by her assessment of him. “So what’s your point?”

“Just do the right thing, okay? Watch him until someone comes to pick him up, so I can go help Worthington snag the son of a bitch who did this to him.”

Pope stared at her a moment, then shifted his gaze to the sleeping figure on the bed. Evan looked smaller and more fragile than ever.

Then Pope went away for a while, and Anna knew he was lost in a memory. Something bittersweet. Painful.

When clarity returned, he looked at her again. He’d made his decision.

“All right,” he said. “Go.”

“Thank you.”

Pope shook his head and stared out his window at those ever-present prison lights.

“Just do us all a favor and catch the motherfucker.”