Ash heard the voices calling to each other below. They were very close now. He remembered what Dee had said. He was not to let them get Tommy back.
“I don’t know you,” Ash said.
“I’m a friend of Dee’s,” Becker said. He was almost there. Another foot and he could grab the man.
“You’re a Lyle,” Ash said contemptuously as he made up his mind. Dee said to kill the boy rather than let them take him back. Everyone would be better off that way.
Ash held Jack over the edge of the cliff and let him fall, then began to run. Becker lunged forward and grabbed Jack’s leg. The boy’s momentum yanked Becker closer to the edge and he came to a rest with his elbow over the void, the boy dangling in space at the end of Becker’s right arm.
The spasm in his right bicep began again immediately, and as Becker tried to grab Jack’s free-swinging other leg, his left arm started to cramp, too. He caught Jack’s trousers, but the grip was too small for his fingers and they spasmed. He grabbed at Jack’s ankle and the larger grip allowed him to hold on. Beyond that, there was nothing he could do. He had no leverage lying on his stomach and holding the boy at arm’s length, and when he tried to wriggle backwards, his legs and back began to convulse.
The pain was so intense it forced Becker’s eyes shut. He clenched his teeth and groaned as loud as he could, a forced keening sound as if he were lifting the world’s heaviest weight. As his muscles jerked, his whole body bucked and inched him toward the edge. They were both going over together unless he could do something, but he could not even dig in with his toes without his legs bouncing up again in agony.
He could hear the shouts of the police coming up the mountain, but he had not the breath or the control to call out. Even drawing a full breath would make him give up and give in to the pain.
“Scream, Jack,” he said desperately through clenched teeth. “Scream.”
Chapter 24
The first two motels went quickly. Karen checked the registry first, then, with the manager’s assistance, she and Reese visited each room that appeared even remotely suspicious. They worked fast but deliberately. After each of the first two motels, Karen radioed back to the headquarters to learn about Becker’s progress. Each time she was informed that he was last seen backing the cruiser down the mountain at high speed.
The third motel caused a delay when the manager made a fuss about calling his superiors before authorizing a search of the rooms. Frustrated, Karen walked off, leaving Reese to deal with the manager, and found a maid who was changing sheets. Karen flashed her badge, took the maid by the arm, and proceeded to have her unlock every locked door on the first level of the motel. By the time Karen reached the second level, Reese appeared, grinning, with the manager in tow. Eager to appear to be in control, the manager assisted her with the remaining rooms himself.
Karen called the headquarters once more. They were still unable to raise Becker on the radio in the cruiser that he had commandeered from Blocker. Blocker himself had last reported in just before starting up the mountain with two patrolmen. Because of the mountains, the walkie-talkies were useful only for the men to communicate with each other; they could not reach headquarters with so weak a signal.
“He said to say there were four, though,” the officer at headquarters said.
“Four what?”
“I don’t know; he must have been jumping out of the car when he said it. All I got was ‘tell Reese there are four,’ then I couldn’t raise him anymore.”
Karen looked to Reese. “Four what? What does it mean?” Reese thrust his lower lip forward as he concentrated.
“Four motels?” he said at last.
“You mean there’s another one?”
“That’s all I can think he means.”
“Is there another one, god damn it?”
“Well… sort of. There’s the Melba. But no one would stay there.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a dump. It’s out of the way. It’s off the road, no one goes there…”
“That’s exactly what he would want!”
“I didn’t think you would be interested. There isn’t even a manager there this time of day…”
“Drive, damn it! Drive,” she said. It took all of her control not to hit him.
“He doesn’t even open the office half the time during the day,” Reese said defensively. He could see the motel a quarter of a mile away. “The couple of regulars who live there don’t need him, and otherwise there just isn’t any business until it gets dark. If someone happens to come by, they can call him at home-not that he’s at home during the day, either. He works at the post office and is most likely out delivering mail…”
The cop car slid into the driveway and Karen told Reese to begin at one end of the line of units while she started at the other. They would try the easy way first, and if that didn’t work, Karen was prepared to get into the rooms any way she could. She pounded on the first door and waited. From the general state of disrepair, it didn’t look as if it would take much to spring a lock or two. If the door was locked from the inside with a dead bolt, they couldn’t get in right away-but they would know someone was inside, too.
Dee opened the door to the officer as if she had been waiting for him.
“Thank God you’re here,” she said. “I’ve been calling and calling.”
“What…?”
“He’s fallen, he hit his head, I can’t wake him up!” Reese looked around, saw no one but the frantic woman. “In here,” she said. “Hurry, please hurry!”
Reese followed her into the bathroom. She pulled back the shower curtain and revealed a man lying in the tub, fully clothed. His eyes were wide and staring.
“Who…”
“My husband,” Dee said. “He slipped, I can’t wake him up. Do something, do something, please.”
The man’s head was tilted crazily to one side as if his neck were broken. Reese stared at him, uncertainly, then to the woman who stood next to him, one hand behind her back. The guy looked to Reese as if he were beyond first aid, looked, in fact, as if he’d been dead a day or two.
“See if he has a pulse,” the woman said frantically. “Please see, Lyle.”
Reese didn’t know why she called him Lyle, if he had heard her right. He didn’t want to check the man’s pulse, didn’t want to touch an obvious corpse at all if he could help it, but he felt that he should give the appearance of trying to help before doing the obvious thing and calling the ambulance.
He leaned over the tub, reaching for the man’s wrist. Dee made one swift pass with the razor blade across Reese’s jugular vein, then drove her knee into his ass, propelling him headfirst into the tub. His head hit porcelain. Dee continued the pressure with her knee while lifting on his belt, keeping him upside down and off balance.
Reese barely felt the slice across his throat; it was the banging of his head that enraged him. The crazy woman had him up on his toes, his face pressed onto the corpse so they were nose to nose. Reese tried to push up off the tub, but she kicked him behind the knees so his legs went out from under him and he tipped farther forward. Something hot and liquid gushed past his face and across his eyes, but he didn’t know what it was. He flailed backward with his right hand, reaching for his gun, but she grabbed his wrist and used his arm like a lever, pushing him still farther into the tub. His lips pressed against the corpse’s mouth and Reese wrenched his head away and more steaming liquid poured into his face and he tasted blood. He was not even yet convinced that it was his own blood when his strength seemed to leave him entirely. As he slumped forward and fell atop the body in the tub, he was dimly aware that his throat had been cut. The slice was beginning to hurt. He reached for his neck and felt a moment of terror as the blood pumped over his fingers, and then he was gone.
Dee pushed Reese’s feet into the tub so that the officer lay along the length of Edgar’s body; then she drew the curtain closed. She rinsed the razor blade and put it on the sink, then picked it up again when she heard the sound from the other room.