Already Lured, page 8
Well, actually, that one was easier to answer. It ended here. She wasn’t going to be this stupid again. She was never going to try to tell anyone else. She shouldn’t have tried it with him. That kind of foolishness was over now.
“It’ll be alright,” Nate said, but it was cold comfort. Laura didn’t know whether he meant Chris would end up accepting her as she was, or whether he meant she would be fine without Chris. She was almost afraid to ask. “Anyway, we’re here.”
Laura looked up at the home in front of them. It honestly wasn’t what she had been expecting. It was a well-kept home in a good neighborhood, with a small yard out front and a moderately-priced car parked in the driveway. The car itself was sparkling clean as if the owner made sure to take care of it every weekend.
Stalkers, Laura supposed, were capable of emerging from all walks of life.
“Let’s go, then,” she said. A bit of action would help to keep her mind off things. If they needed to make an arrest, then they would at least not be able to dwell on other matters.
Nate followed her as she got out of the car and strode towards the door, full of sudden purpose that was mostly fake. She knocked loudly and waited, and glanced towards Nate as confirmation that he was bracing himself when they heard footsteps behind the door.
It opened to reveal a man in beige slacks, a button-down shirt, and a knitted vest over the whole ensemble, looking like nothing more than the generic nerd that might have been present in any lazily costumed movie.
“Hello?” he said, looking between them with some confusion.
“Are you Floyd Reedy?” Laura asked.
“Yes,” he said hesitantly, then seemed to come to a conclusion as to who they were. “Um, I actually already attend a church in the local area, so…”
Laura held up her badge for him to see. “I’m sure that’s very lovely for you, but I’m here about your physical crimes, not your spiritual ones.”
Reedy, who appeared mild-mannered and retiring, took one look at the badge –
And turned and fled.
Laura cursed out loud, then set off after him through the house, throwing a desperate and silent arm off to the side in the meantime. She heard rather than saw Nate start to run to the left, knowing he’d understood the meaning of her gesture. Go round the back. She charged after him as fast as she could, running into a shoe rack at a low level just inside the entranceway and then stumbling on as a sudden headache seized her temple –
Floyd Reedy was running around the side of the house, trying to get away. Laura saw him, his wide eyes set in a terrified face, his arms pumping up and down as fast as he could make them. He glanced over his shoulder but saw no one there, no reason to be afraid. Maybe he was starting to get away. Laura had no idea why she wasn’t right behind him, why she was apparently letting him get away –
And Reedy ran full pelt into Nate, who caught him in strong and wide arms that weren’t going to let him escape. He clipped handcuffs smoothly and expertly onto Floyd’s wrists, first one, then the other, and started to read him his rights.
Laura started to slow down, realizing there was no need for her to try so hard to catch Reedy. Her head was full of stabbing pain now, indicating that the vision revealed a future which was just about to happen. She stumbled slightly on her way to the open back door, holding onto the wall for support as her head stopped swimming so badly. The door had hit the back of the frame with the impact of Reedy running through it, and now it swung back and –
Laura reeled away. There was a hook on the back of the door – probably for hanging coats, but it stuck out at a sharp angle, right at the level of her eyes.
She gasped for breath, clutching onto a small bookcase on the other side of the hall for support, feeling her heart thunder in her chest. If she hadn’t had the vision and slowed down – if she had been right behind Reedy as he ran…
That sharp hook would have gone right into her head. Maybe through one of her eyes.
No wonder she wasn’t running after him in her vision. She would have been incapacitated at the very least. Given she hadn’t heard herself screaming when she had seen Nate make the arrest, there was a good chance she would have been dead.
Outside, she heard a shout and knew that what she saw had happened.
Laura took a breath. She was fine. She hadn’t died or been horribly maimed. She was fine.
She stepped out slowly, making sure to avoid the hook carefully, and made her way around the corner to see Nate grinning at her with Reedy in cuffs, shaking his head at her. “You get lost on the way or what?”
She smiled back weakly, trying to pretend that everything was fine. “I knew you could handle it,” she said. She could tell him the truth later – she wasn’t going to say it in front of a suspect, especially not one who could accuse her of some kind of illegal tactics later.
“Let’s bring him in,” Nate said, turning towards their rental car – and Laura stretched her arms above her head, grateful she hadn’t had to overexert herself, but hoping the headache faded at least a little bit before they ended up in the interview room finding out what Floyd Reedy’s deal was.
***
“Alright,” Laura said, putting down her cup of water on the table. Every sip of it seemed to temporarily ease her headache just a little bit, which was what she needed in order to get through this interview. “Floyd Reedy. You live on your own?”
“That’s right,” he said, fiddling with his own hands, folding them over and over again. “What is all this about? I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Laura almost wanted to laugh out loud. They always made it so hard for themselves when they did this – and so easy for Laura and Nate. “If you didn’t do anything wrong, then why did you run when the FBI showed up on your doorstep?”
Floyd looked down temporarily, studying his hands again and moving his jaw a second before answering. “I heard about what happened to Brooke,” he said. “I thought you might jump to conclusions and come and arrest me.”
“So you do know what this is about,” Laura said. “That’s once already you’ve tried to deceive us. You don’t seem to be very good at it, Mr. Reedy. If I were you, I would seriously consider telling us the truth. It’s going to be easier on you.”
“I didn’t,” Floyd began, stopping himself and then starting again. “I didn’t do anything to Brooke. I promise I didn’t. I just panicked.”
“When did you panic?” Laura asked, leaning forward, and trying to bait him. “When Brooke told you your feelings weren’t reciprocated and you lashed out in anger?”
“No!” he said, his eyes wide and horrified. “No, that never happened, I swear! I never even told her about my feelings.”
“Well, Mr. Reedy, it seems to me that she would have probably gotten the message when you followed her all the way from work to her home,” Nate said. “Don’t you think?”
Reedy made a kind of grunt in the back of his throat, as though the memory was unpleasant to him. “That Neanderthal husband of hers certainly did. He punched me in the face.”
Nate shifted slightly but didn’t lose confidence in his line. “You were stalking his wife. I imagine many men would react the same way.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Reedy repeated. He was pleading with them, his hands open and out in front of him – but Laura noticed with distrust that his fingers were strained and controlled so hard that the tendons in his wrists stood out, every single line of his hands bold and sharp. He was only just hanging onto his composure. How far would he go, Laura wondered, if he was really confronted?
“Where were you last night between six and eight in the evening?” Nate asked. It was an abrupt topic change that they often employed to catch out their suspects – to get them to confess to something they didn’t mean to.
“At work,” Reedy replied immediately.
Nate raised his eyebrows and looked at Laura, and she met his gaze with a similar expression. “You were at work between six and eight last night?” he asked.
“Yes,” Reedy said. “I work in an office, but it’s always awfully noisy in there. I spoke with the HR department and they eventually allowed me to change my working hours so I would get uninterrupted time in the evening. I still have to share the space with others for the rest of the day, but I get to go in late, so there’s time to relax and have a good coffee before I start.”
“A good coffee and a chance to watch her, right?” Nate commented.
Laura glanced sideways at him momentarily. She was starting to get the feeling he was pushing his angle too hard. The answers Reedy was giving were starting to check out.
“Your office,” Laura said. “Does it have security cameras?”
“Sure,” Reedy nodded. “They cover the entrance and the reception. You can’t get out the back of the building without going through reception, either.”
They would have to check, of course. There was always a chance he was bluffing. Laura glanced towards the dark glass at the other side of the room over her shoulder, hoping that one of the detectives was standing there and would get the hint to go and get the footage.
“It was Friday night,” Laura pointed out. “Why were you working so late on a Friday? You didn’t have anywhere better to be?”
“We have a big project on right now. Everyone’s doing overtime over the weekend,” he said. He glanced at a watch on his wrist. “I should be finishing off the last bits in the office now, actually.”
“What about Wednesday?” Nate asked, ignoring his obvious request to leave.
“I was also working then,” Reedy nodded.
There was still something that bothered her about him. Laura couldn’t tell if it was because she didn’t believe his alibi, or because she found him creepy. “Tell us about Jessika Granger,” she said. She watched his face closely – but there didn’t seem to be any reaction on his face, only a puzzled blankness.
“I don’t know who that is,” he said.
“You ever had any kind of therapy?” Nate asked.
“No,” Reedy said, frowning, looking between him and Laura. “Why should I?”
Laura bit her tongue, and looking at Nate sideways, she could feel him doing the same. This wasn’t the time to be giving people free advice about their mental health.
“Do you know anyone who has gone to therapy locally?” Laura asked instead since they needed to get to the crux of this.
“No,” Reedy said, shaking his head and screwing his face up. “What is this about therapy? Has someone told you that I do go to therapy? I don’t.”
Laura rested back in her chair, regarding him wearily. His name hadn’t come up in the patient files, after all. It was likely that he was telling the truth about not knowing Jessika Granger.
An alibi for both murders, and no connection to the second victim. It was looking extremely likely that their suspect was not actually a suspect at all.
Yet another dead end.
“Alright,” Laura said, getting up and effectively giving up. “You’ll need to stay here for a couple of hours while we verify your alibi. If it checks out, you’ll be free to go home.”
Nate followed her as she left the room, too frustrated right now to stay and go through any niceties. The good thing about being in a city that had a good police force was the fact that she could rely on someone else to do all the usual exit procedures now that he was cleared – or all but cleared.
“Now what?” Laura asked, leaning her head against the wall, too weary.
“I have an idea,” Nate said. “But I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Laura slumped with her head against the headrest, looking up and frowning. Nate was right. She didn’t like this one bit.
“Can’t we just go back to the precinct for a bit longer?” she asked. “A couple of hours – tops.”
Nate snorted. “No, we can’t,” he said. He took the keys out of the ignition as if to underline his point. He gestured towards the motel’s office, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I’ll go and get our keys. Can you get the bags out of the trunk?”
Laura nodded uneasily. She hated this. Going to sleep for hours when there was a killer on the loose always felt so wrong. But she knew the argument by heart already: Nate would say that if they were sleep-deprived, they would have even less of a chance of catching him. The best way to get ahead of a killer was to be fresh and on the ball, ready to act on any clues and put things together. And, of course, any rest she could get now would help with any visions she might be able to bring out tomorrow.
Nate was already at the office and talking to the attendant by the time Laura opened her door, slowly walking around to the trunk and lifting both her and Nate’s bags out. They were light, refined down to only the basic necessities after long years of practice. He headed back towards her and she handed one over to him, swapping it for the key to her room.
“Don’t look so low,” Nate told her. “Remember, rest is a good thing. We’re going to get super fresh and in the morning we’ll spot something new that we haven’t seen before.”
“Right,” Laura muttered. In her own head, she added: probably a new body.
She was reluctant even to turn and follow Nate as he headed towards the rooms. This felt like giving up, in the worst possible way. Rondelle had told them they needed to get in there and find answers fast. And what were they doing? Literally sleeping on the job.
“Come on,” Nate called out without looking over his shoulder.
Laura sighed and followed him. There was no point in trying to argue, anyway. He always won these fights in the end. Mostly because, as much as she hated to admit it, Laura was as human as anyone – and, like anyone, she did function better on a bit of sleep. Especially when she’d already had the wind taken out of her sails a little by a vision earlier in the day.
Laura raised her eyebrows in a farewell at Nate, rolling her eyes when he pointed meaningfully at her door while he unlocked his. They’d booked neighboring suites, as usual. When you knew there was a fair possibility that you were going to get up at three in the morning and have to wake up your partner, it was not just practical but also thoughtful to others to be next door.
When he was inside, there was nothing for her to do but follow suit, unlocking the door that had been assigned to her and heading in. She glanced around at the depressingly familiar interior, which didn’t have much to recommend it over the hundreds of other motels she had stayed in before. At least the wallpaper was a plain rust-colored covering in this room; sometimes motel owners picked out headache-inducing floral patterns which practically gave her nightmares.
Laura sighed, dumped her bag on the bed, and then grabbed the files she’d snuck inside her jacket and spread them out on the bed as well. Nate could have his way and make sure she checked into a motel room for the night. He couldn’t force her to actually stop working.
She chewed one of her fingernails as she went back to the very beginning, going over the first briefing and the initial details again to see if there was anything they had missed. She picked up the crime scene photographs that had been taken of Brooke Ware where she lay, red livid marks around her throat, her eyes open and staring at the sky. She dropped the rest and focused on one to look at it even closer, tracing a finger over the pictured ligature marks as a headache stabbed her forehead, trying to see what she could gain from the –
There was a terrible crashing noise splitting the world apart, the sky coming down on the ground, everything tumbling and moving all at once. For a moment Laura didn’t know how to breathe, didn’t know how to interpret what was going on. It was like she’d been sucked into an unexpected hurricane, or a plane had crashed into the motel, or –
No. Her world stabilized and she saw what it was. It was a car, now upside down, the sky visible through the lower part of the windshield and everything wrong. The glass was gone, scattered now in winking crystals across the seats, catching the headlights of other vehicles screeching to a stop nearby.
There was someone in front of her. A man. He was older, though his face was obscured by blood, by the crumpled look he had. He was trapped. Laura could see he was trapped. He stirred slightly once and then closed his eyes, opened them again and shut them. Laura heard him groan faintly, a wheeze that went out. A kind of final breath. There were crunching noises of footsteps nearby, shouting voices, lights – but he was gone, his eyes shut, no longer aware of anything around him.
Laura blinked, dropping the photograph. A car accident? What did that have to do with –
The man was walking along a pathway. Laura found her thoughts racing, unable to understand what was happening. A double vision? The same man? Did this vision come before the one she had seen?
He was walking along a pathway in the evening, his breath forming a cloud on the cold air. It was winter – like now, Laura thought. What was this? Was he about to be hit by the car? But in the vision she’d had just now, it had seemed like he was inside the car to begin with when it crashed –
There was someone behind him. Laura saw them, her eyes opening wide with shock, wanting to shout out and warn him. It was another man. A man in a dark hoodie with a cap shading his face – an outfit she recognized – an outfit she had seen very recently on security footage. It was dark here, too dark to catch a glimpse under the cap, his whole face shrouded in shadow – Laura strained to see –
He made a quick movement of his hands and the man, the one Laura had seen die in the car crash, put his own hands up to his neck. He was grasping at something, going down, hitting the floor. Laura went down with him, like a camera that was fixed a set distance in front of his face. She didn’t want to watch him die a second time. She wanted to look up – to look into the killer’s eyes, to know who he was. But as ever, her vision didn’t obey her. Instead, she watched the man struggle and fight, his eyes wide and then popping out, his face going red and then purple as the life was drained out of him.
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