Repent, page 12
Nikki nodded, surprised Jack was more optimistic about the psychic consult than she was. She didn’t even know if Sonja could talk to Sparky. Her friend’s business revolved around people. Sonja certainly didn’t have pet communication listed on her website.
On the other hand, Sonja had once told her that Gunner wanted special dog biscuits. She’d also insisted that he wanted a pony. Nikki hadn’t doubted that—Gunner loved being around horses—but that probably could be said about a lot of dogs. At least, it had given Nikki another reason to rescue Stormy, the aged pony who had taught her to ride, and who was now living in comfort at Sonja’s farm.
Jack leashed Sparky, opened the hatchback and let the dog jump to the ground. Sparky pulled at the leash, seemingly excited about heading to the coyote brush closer to the building. But Jack growled a command and Nikki heard a flood of liquid as Sparky relieved himself on her back tire.
“You can take him for a little walk,” Nikki said. “He probably wants to stretch his legs after being cooped up in the car. I’m surprised he hasn’t complained yet.”
“The dog is fine,” Jack said. He loaded Sparky into the car, settled back into the passenger seat and shot Nikki a sardonic look. “Sparky doesn’t complain. He’s an animal. Of course, I’m not a psychic so maybe I’m missing something.”
“You don’t have to be psychic to understand your dog,” Nikki reached back between the seats and patted Sparky’s velvety head. “A little thoughtfulness goes a long way.”
“Gran and I don’t hold with spoiling animals,” Jack said. “He’s lucky she hasn’t told Billy to get rid of him.”
Sparky poked his head over the console and dragged a pink tongue across Jack’s cheek.
“Guess he is kind of cute.” Jack gave a grudging smile. “But he hasn’t helped find Billy. So he doesn’t deserve anything more than a piss break.”
“You and your gran are tough customers,” Nikki said, pressing in Sonja’s number. “I’m calling the psychic now. Just don’t expect too much.”
At least Sparky looked more alert after his brief trip outside the car. He was still standing, nose poked between the two seats, staring intently through the windshield.
Nikki held the phone to her ear, waiting for Sonja’s voice.
“You’ve reached Sonja’s Psychic and Consultants,” the throaty message said. “I’m either with a client or the office is closed. You are important to me so please leave a message.”
“Well that sucks,” Jack said. “Sexy voice though.”
Nikki motioned for him to be quiet while she left a message. “Please call me as soon as you can,” Nikki said. “It’s important, and I won’t have cell service for long.”
“So now what?” Jack asked. “She calls you back tomorrow?”
“No, if it’s important she always calls quickly.”
“But what if she doesn’t listen to the message for another hour? We can’t waste time sitting here, and your phone won’t work if we leave.”
“We won’t have to wait long,” Nikki said. “Sonja will know.”
“How?”
Nikki shrugged, shifting in the seat and stretching out her legs. She was a reluctant believer and still struggled to understand the psychic thing. She only knew Sonja always called when Nikki needed her.
“So this is what private investigators do?” Jack’s lip curled in scorn. “Sit around all day in their cars? Suckering clients into paying an hourly rate?”
“And expenses too,” Nikki added with a teasing grin.
“What a rip-off. How long do we sit here?”
Nikki’s phone buzzed, saving her from answering. She shot Jack a triumphant look, then grabbed the phone and filled Sonja in on the pertinent details.
Sonja listened silently. Then she laughed. “So that’s the personal item?” she said. “A dog?”
“Sparky is who he cares about most,” Nikki said.
“Has he been upset since Billy disappeared?”
“A little. But not now.” Nikki peered over the seat, checking that Sparky was still awake. “I can bring you something else of Billy’s tonight. In the meantime can you talk to the dog? Maybe he saw Billy take a sleeping bag or food into the woods.”
“Animals aren’t my specialty,” Sonja said. “Sometimes I can communicate with them, but not consistently enough to offer it as a service.”
“I’m just asking you to try,” Nikki said, putting Sonja on speaker. “No expectations.”
“But it’s not what I do and even harder over the phone.”
“Just try already,” Jack snapped. At Nikki’s sharp glance, he added, “Please.”
Sonja heaved a sigh. “What’s the dog’s name?” she asked.
“Sparky.” Nikki and Jack blurted out at the same time.
“Okay,” Sonja said. “Hold the phone up to Sparky, still your minds and stay silent. The next person who talks should be me. Remember that...Jack.”
It was quiet in the car. Nikki held the phone between the two seats, close to Sparky’s head. She turned away, staring out the side window, afraid if she looked at Jack she’d either laugh or cry. And still her mind? How was that possible when anxiety hummed through her gut?
She wondered what Justin would think of her Hail Mary effort. He liked Sonja but he certainly hadn’t added her to his detectives’ approved consult list. She’d have to ask him if he ever resorted to psychics. If so, which ones.
And though she tried to keep her mind blank, it kept churning with thoughts and fears and questions. The one that gave her the most hope was that Sonja had known Jack’s name. Nikki hadn’t revealed his name, except to Justin.
She had no idea how many minutes they were silent. Jack, to his credit, didn’t move. Didn’t talk. Didn’t seem to even breathe. At one point, she even glanced over, checking that he was still in the car.
When they finally heard Sonja speak again, they both whipped around in their seats, staring at the phone and the dog.
“I didn’t get much,” Sonja said. “Sparky’s confused and lonely and misses Billy. Says he hasn’t been getting any treats lately. But he really liked the white thing he had today. He wanted more. Way more.”
“Must have been the piece of biscuit,” Nikki said.
“What crap,” Jack muttered. “How is this going to help?”
“Sparky was very open and receptive,” Sonja said. “Maybe you should be a little more open, Jack.”
Jack rolled his eyes.
“Was there anything else?” Nikki asked, privately sharing Jack’s disappointment. “Anything about where Billy might be?”
“Take me off speaker please,” Sonja said. And all the lightness in her voice had disappeared.
Nikki pressed a button. “You’re off,” she confirmed, pressing the phone to her left ear, trying to keep it far away from Jack’s sharp ears.
“Do you see a big box?” Sonja asked. “Sparky wants you to check it.”
“There is something like that here,” Nikki said, feeling Jack’s gaze sharpen. She kept her eyes straight ahead, didn’t want him racing to the dumpster to the left of her car. The metal bin squatted only forty feet away, close to an employee side door, a cavernous steel container big enough to hold a body.
“Thanks, Sonja,” she added. “I’ll drop by with some of Billy’s clothing later.”
Nikki cut the connection and looked at Jack. “Can you go inside and grab us something to drink. Get a hotdog too if you’re hungry. There’s money in the console.”
“What did she say?”
“Not much. Sparky doesn’t have a big vocabulary so it’s only guesswork. You know, like calling a biscuit the white thing.”
Jack smacked his fist into the palm of his hand, the noise vibrating through the small car. “Tell me what she said! You don’t understand. Billy’s my brother!”
Nikki sighed. Earlier she would have been alarmed by Jack’s aggressiveness. Now she felt like opening her arms and wrapping him in a comforting hug. She certainly didn’t want to open that dumpster with him beside her. Seeing a dead body was hard. When it was a loved one—thrown away like garbage—the pain was crippling. She knew that firsthand.
Jack laced his fingers together then pressed them against his lap, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “Please tell me. I know she said something bad.”
Nikki glanced at Sparky. He wagged his tail, delighted with his odd day. Surely he wouldn’t look so happy if he thought his beloved owner was stuffed in a garbage bin? A box, Sparky had called it.
“All right,” she said slowly. “Sonja wants me to check something.”
“What?” Jack asked. “Whatever it is, I’m coming with you.”
“Only if you agree to follow in my steps. You know...in case we have to preserve evidence.”
“Don’t make excuses. I know the ground’s too dry for prints. I’m not stupid.”
No, he wasn’t stupid. And Nikki’s heart ached for him, and what they might find. “Let me go first. Just in case. Agreed?”
She waited until he gave a curt nod. Then she reached in her bag and pulled out two pairs of latex gloves.
“This is what Sonja said.” She passed him a pair of gloves. “Sparky wants us to check a big box. I believe that means the dumpster behind the store.”
Jack’s gaze shot to the steel bin. The blood drained from his face. “Oh fuck,” he said.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Nikki and Jack sat for a moment, staring at the metal garbage bin. Then Jack scraped a hand over his bloodless face, pushed open his door and stepped out. He waited by the hood of her car, staring at the ground, slowly tugging on his gloves.
He wasn’t in any hurry to look either, Nikki thought, stepping from the car and adjusting her gloves.
They trudged single file toward the bin with Jack walking so close behind her that his ragged breath fanned the back of her neck.
She stopped in front of the squat bin and pulled in a cautious sniff. The air wasn’t pleasant but it certainly wasn’t repulsive. Nothing that screamed of rotting meat. But plastic could serve as a good scent barrier, especially cling wrap.
Steeling herself, she grabbed the handle and swung back the lid.
Flies rose in a swarm around her face. Pesky brown ones, too small to be blowflies. She clamped her mouth tight, rose on her toes and peered in. Then squeezed her eyes shut in an overwhelming moment of relief. There was nothing in there but a pile of rotting carrots: greenish-orange ones with limp tops. In some places, the bottom of the bin was visible, spotted with clumps of dried lettuce.
Jack squeezed up beside her. She heard his exultant chuckle. Then his choke as he swallowed a fruit fly. He backed away, choking and spitting but still grinning from ear to ear.
“Damn, that Sparky is useless,” he said. “Scaring us like that. All he thinks about is food.”
Nikki dropped the lid with a clang. They walked back toward the car, side-by-side, their steps much lighter than during their approach.
“Your job sucks,” Jack said. “How can you do this every day? My heart was in my throat.”
“Most of my work isn’t like this. Most of it is boring. Checking insurance claims, process serving or tailing an errant spouse.”
“When did you start?”
“I was sixteen when I started part-time work in an investigator’s office, learning the ropes. My official apprentice period took about three years. I went out on my own awhile ago.”
“At least you don’t have to put on a police uniform. And turn into an asshole.”
“Police have a tough job. Without them, there’d be anarchy.”
“I suppose,” Jack said. “Guess I feel a little sorry for them now. Don’t even want to think about what they see.”
“Let’s take a break,” Nikki said. “Grab a drink. And I want to show the owner Billy’s picture. See if she remembers him.”
Jack didn’t even argue that it was a waste of time. They climbed the three worn wooden steps, companionably close, and entered Lena’s country store. An overhead bell tinkled, announcing their arrival. A woman with a gray ponytail and thick-lensed glasses glanced up from behind a sturdy counter. Her back was bent and stooped, and she appeared to be at least eighty.
“Finally,” she said, peering at Jack. “I had carrots put aside. But they’re all spoiled now and I had to dump them.” Her voice turned accusing. “I thought you were coming back on Saturday, Billy?”
Nikki stepped forward, passing the woman her card. “I’m Nikki Drake. And this isn’t Billy. It’s his brother. We’re looking for Billy. I gather he was here recently. Was it last Saturday night that you expected him?”
The woman nodded, her annoyance turning to concern. Over the next ten minutes she answered all Nikki’s questions, speaking slowly and thoughtfully. Apparently Billy stopped by regularly, looking for old or misshapen carrots. He’d told Lena all about Radar and his job at the horse stable. And he’d never missed a pick-up before.
“I see you have a surveillance camera,” Nikki said. “May I take a look?”
“I’m sorry, no,” Lena said, shooting a wary look at Jack. “That camera outside is fake. A lot of teens park here for hours at a time.”
“Not surprising,” Jack cut in. “This is the only place with reception in a ten-mile radius.”
“Yes, but you people don’t have to block the gas pumps and intimidate my customers. Or steal fruit from the bins. Be like your brother and ask first.”
Jack scowled. Then gave a slow nod. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll talk to the boys.”
Five minutes later, Nikki and Jack returned to the car with two homemade chocolate chip cookies, compliments of Lena, along with a new understanding of the area where Jack and his friends were welcome to park.
“I’m going to take you home,” Nikki said. “And update the police. What we found will energize their search.”
“But Billy could be anywhere by now,” Jack said, dropping his uneaten cookie into the cup holder of the console. “The interstate is accessible from here. Maybe some pervert gassed up at Lena’s, then grabbed him. We have no way of tracking it.”
“Police will check store sales for that night,” Nikki said.
“And highway cameras. There’s a bank machine inside so they can request that information as well. They have access to tons of stuff, much more than I do. This is all helpful.”
Though her voice was calm, she gripped the steering wheel with both hands, her palms clammy. Billy had been missing for seven long days, and it was impossible not to imagine the horrors he might be enduring. And the thought of Mrs. Tanner waiting hopefully in her kitchen left Nikki aching.
“This is my fault.” Jack rubbed his face in misery. “I wouldn’t let him take carrots from our garden. But why did he have to worry so much about damn horse treats?”
“Your brother loves animals. Sgt. Smith said he brought carrots all the time. It’s no one’s fault. Certainly not yours.”
“Gran warned us not to hitchhike,” Jack went on. “But I didn’t want to stay out here in the sticks. Billy probably thought it was okay to hitch rides too. I never thought anything like this would happen.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Nikki studied his expression, feeling another nudge of suspicion. “There’s still a chance he hooked up with that youth gang,” she said. “You know...the ones he was with when he tossed those fire bombs.”
“No,” Jack muttered. “He wasn’t in a gang. He never liked the city. Not like me. He’s the good grandson. The one with no record.”
Nikki absorbed the misery etched on Jack’s face, the sort of look she’d worn when her sister had gone missing. She also remembered Sonja’s statement that Jack should be honest. And Nikki knew now what he was hiding. And why the skin on his right hand was pale and puckered.
“It was you that night, wasn’t it?” she said.
Jack shook his head but a muscle twitched in his jaw.
“Social Services would have taken you,” she went on. “So Billy claimed he threw that firebomb.”
Jack crossed his arms, staring straight ahead.
“If we knew Billy wasn’t involved with your old gang,” Nikki said, “the police won’t waste any more time checking the usual city spots. It could help find him.”
It was quiet in the car, silent except for the hum of the engine. And Jack’s ragged breathing.
Jack finally broke. “I didn’t ask him to take the fall,” he muttered. “Billy insisted. Said it would kill Gran if they took me. He made me promise to get my shit together. And I have. But now I lost my brother.”
Nikki sighed, already piecing together new scenarios. So Smitty was correct. Billy hadn’t been upset when he left the barn that night. He hadn’t wanted to ditch his community service either. And he certainly hadn’t been looking for any street friends. All he’d wanted was horse carrots.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s assume he was in a great mood when he stepped off that bus. He wants to pick up the carrots and Lena’s store closes at ten. Would he walk there on the road or take a shortcut?”
“He’d stick to the road,” Jack said. “There are lots of game trails that he knows from hunting and snaring. But they’d be slow-going in the dark.”
“Does he have any friends who live between the bus stop and Lena’s store? Any place he might have stopped?”
“No, he wasn’t into girls or hanging out. All he did was talk about horses. Especially that one with the nasty burn.” Jack paused, his face turning a guilty red.
Nikki gave a reassuring nod. “I saw Radar yesterday. He’s doing well.”
“I never meant to hurt any horse,” Jack said. “We just wanted to get back at the cops for always hassling us. I thought the trailer was empty...until I heard the screams.” He slumped back against the seat. “Billy mentioned that the horse liked carrots. They helped keep him quiet when he rubbed on ointment. Guess that explains why Billy was backtracking to the store.”
Nikki veered east along a nondescript gravel road, following Jack’s instructions for the quickest way home. She didn’t want to think of poor Radar. She just wanted to drop off Jack so she could talk candidly on the phone.
