Why not? Its logical. Thats when his wife was killed.
And what hell expect us to think. Jacob glanced in the rearview mirror. Snows getting heavier. To answer your question, Critchs parole officer is pissed off as hell that hes lost one of his charges. He said he was going to report Critch in the morning. He did it tonight instead.
Romana laughed. You have such a persuasive way about you, Detective. Does he have any idea where Critch might be?
None that I could persuade him to share.
So were down to Critchs family, his friends, maybe his teaching cronies.
And his theater buddies.
Critch was an actor? She tried to form the image, but no matter how she sketched it, she couldnt picture the lanky chemistry teacher with his sandy-blond hair and semirugged features on a stage. I thought he was into nature and weird experiments. I read that he had an extensive lab in his basement.
Science lab in the basement, costume storage in the garage.
Huh. What kind of theater?
Local amateur stuff. I imagine Belinda got him into it. She belonged to a community arts club.
Really. That sounds so Rob and Laura Petrie, so suburban and, I dont know, happy, I suppose.
Maybe they were happy.
Then why did she? The question that had almost slipped out earlier came close to slipping out again. With a sigh for the quirk of his lips, she finished it. Okay, Ill pry. Why did Belinda want to meet with you two days before she died? You werent friends, she might have been happy with her husband. What did she want from you?
Jacob checked the mirror again. She said she was being stalked.
I take it she didnt know by whom.
She said she didnt. That could have been the truth. Belinda flirted with men. At her silent look, he added, All men, Romana, not just your ex.
Go in another direction, okay? Belinda was being stalked. Could it have been by her husband?
It could have been by any number of people, with names known only to Belinda. She wouldnt give me anything specific. She simply wanted to know how to obtain a restraining order.
And after you told her, she What is it, Jacob? Romana demanded when his eyes strayed to the mirror for a third time. Is someone tailing us?
For the past two miles.
And youre only telling me about it now? She zeroed in on the headlights behind them. So thats why were zigzagging all over the city core. She tried to gauge the distance, but it was difficult with the heavy snowfall. I think hes closing in.
Jacob turned left, away from the busy downtown streets, toward Riverview Park. The vehicle behind them made the same turn.
They wove a path into an older part of the city. Tall, thin houses seemed to sprout straight out of the white-coated ground. Many of the windows were dark, a few were boarded up. Romana counted five Christmas trees in total, plus a trio of inflatable snowmen rocking in the wind.
In the middle of the street, a woman pulling a toboggan piled high with bags walked against the wind. Jacob swerved to avoid both her and a parked car. At the last minute, so did the vehicle behind them.
Im not sure playing cat and mouse is the best idea here, Knight. Romana scanned the dash. Whats your dispatch number?
Ninety-one-Vector.
She would have called it in if he hadnt reached over and removed the radio from her hand. No backup, okay? Lets keep this unofficial. When she started to argue, he added an even, Like you are.
She blinked, drew her hand back. For a single, unguarded moment, shed slapped on her old hat, the one shed packed away after a few short years on the force, a painful personal evaluation and a brief struggle with guilt.
Still amazed by the easy switch, she refocused on their pursuer. Hes pulled to within thirty feet.
Hes also using his high beams. Jacob squinted into the mirror. Can you make out the vehicle type?
I think its a GM off-road. Dark color. No front plates. And either hes speeding up or youre slowing down, because hes ten feet off your back bumper.
As she spoke, the trucks engine revved. The vehicle leaped forward, rammed into Jacobs SUV, backed off and prepared to charge again.
This is ridiculously predictable. Romana fought a ripple of fear with irritation.
After another solid hit, Jacob unsnapped his holster. Can you shoot out a front tire?
Yes, but thatll make things pretty official.
He handed her his gun. Just dont kill him.
Lowering the window, she braced her left knee on the seat and waited for the truck to close again. Youd think a guy whod spent most of his youth in the Amazon jungle would be a bit more inventive, wouldnt you?
Jacob checked the side mirrors. Whatever works, Romana.
She started to lean out but was suddenly jerked sideways as Jacob swerved yet again. Unanchored, she toppled into his arm, and almost into his lap.
Jacob, what are you
Civilians.
She pulled herself upright. Shoving the hair from her eyes, she peered through the snow until she spotted a pair of men in baggy parkas. They were carrying lunch boxes and holding their hoods up with their free hands.
Behind her, the trucks engine roared again. Snow spat out from under all four tires.
With her rib cage pressed to the door, Romana stuck her head and hands through the window, took aim and fired.
The truck immediately skidded sideways, struck a mailbox and spun in a wild half circle.
The engine subsided for a moment, then gave a growl like an enraged bull. More streams of snow shot upward. The back end of the truck fishtailed before gaining traction. With the front bumper now pointed toward the city, it bounced across a corner lot and vanished into the darkness.
Jacob reversed.
Wait. Romana caught his arm. Critch knocked the mailbox onto one of those men.
Clearly frustrated, he watched the taillights fade.
She hopped out and ran to the sidewalk where the second man kneeled next to his friend. Are you hurt?
Foots caught. The pinned mans breath whooshed out. Was that guy playing chicken with you?
In a way. Going to her knees, Romana examined his trapped foot. Theres a cushion of snow under your ankle. It might have prevented a break.
We should call the police. The mans friend fumbled for his cell phone. That guy was a nutcase.
Its covered. Jacob revealed the badge on his waistband. Crouching, he snagged the top corner of the box. On three, he said to Romana.
Within seconds, the trapped man was free. He flexed his foot. Feels okay, he said in relief. He frowned at Jacob. Dont chases involving the police usually work the other way round? You go after him?
Guys a nutcase, his friend repeated. He started shouting when his tire blew. I didnt catch all of it, but I heard the last part clear enough.
She didnt want to know, Romana told herself. Really didnt want to know. Can you tell us what he said? she asked.
Yeah, he said this was the first threat. How many more you get depends on how he feels. But the real things coming, and when it does, its gonna make you real dead. Then he spun his tires and yelled, Merry Christmas, murderers.
IT WAS DONE, ANOTHER THREAT had been delivered. Damn, but he felt good.
He knew when he wanted to do it; the gray area remained the manner of their execution.
Hed been working on his plan of revenge for years, since before those prison doors had clanged shut. Hed created and re-created Christmas cards for both of them, constructed and deconstructed a thousand bloody scenarios. Hed visualized them in death. Hed pictured himself placing mistletoe on their graves.
Whatever else he did, however it went down, mistletoe would be included in the killings, because mistletoe leaves had been scattered around Belindas cold body.
Could you strangle a person with it? He didnt think so. Stab a rough sprig through a frantically beating heart? Probably not.
He pictured Romana Grey. She had a dazzling face, and, he suspected, an equally amazing body. Another time and place
No, he wouldnt think like that. Couldnt. He was going to kill her. Knight would watch, then he would die. Revenge complete, all wrapped up like the perfect Christmas present.
It would be perfect, too, because no matter how long and hard the authorities searched afterward, they wouldnt find their man. Warren Critch knew the Amazon basin as well as anyone alive. He wasnt about to be captured.
A dark Christmas song dribbled out of the radio. Sadly, he couldnt run Romana and Jacob over with a reindeer-hed have enjoyed that-but he could shoot them. And with something other than bullets.
Ah, yes, now there was a tantalizing prospect. He wouldnt implement it too soon, of course. They needed to suffer first as Belinda had, but in time, in time
Smiling, he picked up a handful of darts and began launching them at the wall. The first one struck Jacob Knight in the throat, the second got Romana Grey below her lovely left breast.
His smile widened. Killing them was going to be worth the six-year wait.
Chapter Three
With the exception of several colorful additions during the holiday season, nothing ever really changed at the station house. Reports were typed in cubbies by officers whod rather be anywhere than behind a computer. Suspects, cuffed and uncuffed, shuffled in and out, phones rang, conversations ebbed and flowed. Once in a while, an overstressed lieutenant barked out an order.
Chapter Three
With the exception of several colorful additions during the holiday season, nothing ever really changed at the station house. Reports were typed in cubbies by officers whod rather be anywhere than behind a computer. Suspects, cuffed and uncuffed, shuffled in and out, phones rang, conversations ebbed and flowed. Once in a while, an overstressed lieutenant barked out an order.
By early December, tinsel had been stapled around desk fronts, and most of the tall plants were draped with twinkling lights. An animated Santa ho-ho-hoed boisterously in the corner. Menorahs stood next to fiber-optic pine trees, snowflakes hung from the ceiling, and there were snowmen and penguins plastered to every glass partition. As a rule, no less than three platters of cakes and cookies sat on the front desk, the largest being in full view of the captains office.