A man said, “Hold on a minute, I have to take a piss.”
The voice belonged to Bristol.
The driver’s door opened.
The vehicle rocked slightly as the man got out.
The door shut.
Waverly didn’t move a muscle.
Bristol wouldn’t go far, one or two steps away from the car at most. He’d piss, he’d get back in and that would be it. Waverly concentrated on keeping down and not moving even an iota.
Suddenly the side of her head exploded in pain.
Lights flashed inside her skull.
Her legs gave out and she crumbled to the ground.
Gravel grabbed her cheek and bit in.
Then rough hands grabbed her, yanked her up and threw her into the back seat. Before she could get her bearings, Bristol was in the front seat, twisted around, pointing a gun into her face.
“Surprise,” he said.
His face was contorted, almost insane.
Waverly looked at Jaden.
The woman’s face was cold.
It showed no compassion.
“I don’t understand,” Waverly said.
“It looks like I’m really not your friend after all,” Jaden said. “It looks like you’ve been set up.”
“No!”
Bristol swung his arm back and smacked Waverly on the side of the head.
“I gave you every chance to back off,” he said. “You worked yourself into this corner. You don’t have anyone to blame but your own stupid self.”
Waverly fought through the pain.
Think!
Think!
Think!
She reached into her back pocket with as little motion as she could and pulled out a knife. She unfolded it. Bristol was too far away.
Jaden was right in front of her though.
Waverly grabbed the woman’s hair, yanked her head back and put the blade to her throat. Then she hardened her face and looked into Bristol’s maniac eyes.
“Put the gun down!”
He smiled.
“You won’t kill her.”
“Yes I will.”
“Show me.”
Jaden squirmed.
Waverly pulled harder on her hair and sunk the edge deeper against her skin.
“I’ll do it, I swear to God.”
“Go ahead,” Bristol said. “You’ll save me the trouble.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“Kill her,” he said. “Do it.” He brought the barrel of the gun up over the seat and pointed it at Waverly’s face. She was trapped. There was no way she could get her hand out from around Jaden’s neck and over to him. He’d be able to pull the trigger five times. “I’m going to count to three,” he said.
“One.”
Waverly couldn’t move.
“Two.”
She couldn’t breath.
She couldn’t think.
She couldn’t do anything.
“Three!”
The gun fired.
131
Day Four
July 24, 1952
Thursday Night
Wilde took refuge from a violent storm under River’s boxcar, waiting for the man to return. The rail yard was darker than death. A few city lights could be seen through the weather but only as washed out shells.
Wilde’s heart was hard.
Alabama was dead.
River was the one who did it, him and his twisted little sidekick. Now it was time for them to pay the price. Screw the police, screw the courtrooms, screw the hundred little chances they would have to squirm their way out.
Wilde would never regret doing it.
He already knew that.
The only thing left to do at this point was to do it.
Headlights suddenly cut through the weather. Wilde crawled out and hugged the opposite side of the boxcar, then scurried around the vehicle from behind as it came to a stop.
He opened the back door, darted in and shoved the barrel into the back of River’s head.
“You killed Alabama,” he said.
“No I didn’t.”
Wilde pointed the gun at the roof and pulled the trigger. The explosion was like a thousand lightning bolts striking the car. He smashed River’s head with the barrel.
“You killed Alabama,” he said.
January started to say something but River said, “Shut up!” Then to Wilde, “Alabama’s fine. We have her, that’s true, but she’s unharmed.”
“Bullshit.”
“That’s the truth,” River said.
“Where is she?”
“She’s in a shed up in the mountains.”
“Take me to her.”
“Sure, let’s go.”
River shifted into first.
The vehicle pulled forward.
They headed west to Golden and then into Clear Creek Canyon. Wilde knew the area well. He used to kayak the river back when he was a kid.
“If she’s dead, you’re both dying,” Wilde said.
“Fair enough.”
“It won’t be quick. I’m going to start with your kneecaps.”
River chuckled as if amused by something.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re timing is pretty good,” he said. “Me and Gapp were going to kill you tonight.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think? You’ve been snooping around that Charley-Anna Blackridge murder too much.”
“Meaning you were afraid I was going to find out you were responsible sooner or later,” Wilde said.
The storm pummeled down.
Vertical canyon walls were to their right, not more than a few feet off the edge of the road. To their left was a drop into the river.
“Actually, no,” River said. “I didn’t kill the woman. I suspect Gapp did but I’m not sure. He was in the club with her that night.”
“Gapp? Who’s Gapp?”
“Gapp is Robert Gapp, Robert Mitchum’s double.”
Robert Mitchum.
Robert Mitchum.
Robert Mitchum.
“If you didn’t do it and he did, then what do you care if I’m snooping around?”
River shrugged.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll tell you, why not? We have to have a deal though, right here, right now. You get your little assistant back safe and sound. Then you go your way and we go ours. You drop the investigation. You leave me and January alone. We leave you alone.”
Wilde shook his head.
“No deals.”
“That’s the deal,” River said. “Like it or not, that’s the deal. If you don’t take it, you can kill us. But I guarantee you that will be the death knell for your little friend. You won’t find her in a million years. She’ll rot to death. Hell of a way to go, don’t you think?”
Wilde pictured it.
He said nothing.
“I kill people,” River said. “That’s my job. That’s what I get paid to do. I came up with a plan several years ago that at least for the female victims, they’d all be killed the same way, namely put in a red dress and dropped off a roof.”
“Why?”
“Because it was an MO,” River said. “It was a signature. It would be looked at as the work of one person. I brought Gapp in as an accomplice several years ago and set up a system. One of us would do the abduction when the other one was someplace public with an ironclad alibi. Then the other one would do the dropping, when the first one was someplace public with an ironclad alibi. Beautiful, huh?”
“Yeah, real pretty.”
“We spotted your little assistant on the roof with her binoculars,” River said. “We took her so we could bait you into a trap and kill you. Now that’s not necessary because we’re going to agree to give her up and you’re going to agree to lay off. Then again, maybe I’m lying. Maybe she’s already dead and I’m drawing you up into the mountains to kill you, even as we speak.” He chuckled. “Got you thinking, don’t I?”
“Shut up. Don’t say another word. You hear me?”
“Sure, no problem.”
They drove in silence.
When the canyon ended River turned right on 119, deeper into the mountains. Other than eerie snapshots of vague images brought to life by lightning bolts, the world was pitch black.