Another moment of silence, then a choked voice said, “I killed my wife. I killed Abby. We fought that night and God have mercy on me, I killed her.”
Then the line clicked.
Carmody froze. Holy crap.
Looking toward the lot, she saw the Lexus starting to back out of the parking space.
Move, Sue, move. Don’t let him get away.
Slamming through the lobby doors, she tore down the walkway. The Lexus was pulling out now, rolling toward the exit.
Carmody tucked her cell phone into a pocket and sprinted to Frank’s sedan, which was parked in one of the slots reserved for police personnel. Unlocking it, she threw open the driver’s door and jumped behind the wheel.
The Lexus was already headed down the hill, disappearing from sight.
Jamming the key into the ignition, she started the car, gunned the engine, then rocketed out of the parking space, picking up speed as she pulled out of the lot onto Baycliff Drive, which wound down through the mountains toward the 101.
As she drove around the first curve, she saw the Lexus again, but it had turned off the main drag onto a narrow access road that disappeared behind an outcropping of rocks.
Where the hell was he going?
Spinning her wheel, she rolled after him, reaching for the radio mic as she drove, flicking the call button.
“Dispatch, this is unit two-nineteen, in pursuit of POI Michael Tolan, driving a black Lexus, headed east on an access road just off Baycliff Drive.”
She waited for a response and got none.
“Dispatch?”
Nothing. Glancing down at the radio, she realized it had been switched off.
Sonofabitch.
She flicked a knob, but nothing happened. The thing was dead.
Goddamn it, Frank.
He’d forgotten to test it before checking the car out of the police garage. Either that, or someone had tampered with it in the hospital lot.
Tolan?
The Lexus was disappearing around a curve, moving deeper into the mountains. Carmody drove past an unlocked security gate marked NO TRESSPASSING and realized that this was an access road that led to the old hospital.
Why was Tolan going there?
She picked up speed again, took the curve, and saw the Lexus up ahead. Digging out her cell phone, she was about to put it to her ear when she noticed the NO SERVICE icon flashing on her screen.
Shit.
The mountains must be blocking the signal.
Dropping the phone to the seat next to her, she thought about turning back, waiting until she could get some backup out here, but was afraid she might be wrong about where Tolan was headed. What if there was another road that took him down the hill and away from the old hospital? And without a radio there was no way to head him off.
Then again the man had just confessed to murdering his wife, and the last thing she should be doing was going after him alone. That was a Blackburn move, and she was no Frank Blackburn.
The Lexus disappeared around another curve.
Making her decision, Carmody punched the pedal and sped after it. As she rounded the curve, she saw it pull through another gate.
Up ahead, beyond a thick cluster of pepper trees, sat the dark monstrosity that had once been Baycliff Hospital. It was a massive old structure, half burned to the ground, but still imposing, its dark doorways and broken windows like malevolent eyes.
Carmody pulled to the side of the road and waited as the Lexus momentarily disappeared behind the cluster of trees. A moment later it was in view again, pulling to a stop in front of the building.
No one got out.
The driver just sat there.
I killed my wife. I killed Abby. God have mercy on me.
Thinking she might be about to witness a suicide, Carmody put the sedan in gear, then drove through the gate, rounding the short curve that wound through the cluster of trees. When she emerged on the other side, she discovered that the driver’s door of the Lexus was now hanging open, the seat empty.
Shit.
Pulling to a stop behind it, she killed the engine and climbed out, taking her Glock from the holster she kept clipped at the small of her back. She glanced around. No sign of him.
“Dr. Tolan?”
She moved past his car toward the building, staring at the black hole that had once been the main entrance, wondering if he’d gone inside. If he had, she wasn’t about to follow. She may have been stupid enough to come this far alone, but she wasn’t that stupid.
She kept her Glock raised. “Dr. Tolan?”
No response. No sign of him.
Then her phone bleeped. She turned, realizing she’d left it on the passenger seat. And it was working again, no longer stuck in a dead zone.
Moving to the car, she leaned in and snatched it up, flicking it on. “Hello?”
Silence. Only the sound of breathing.
“Dr. Tolan? Is that you?”
She looked toward the building again. It towered above her like a set from an old horror movie, and she half expected a snarling, ravenous ghoul to come tearing out of that black entranceway, its teeth bared.
“Dr. Tolan, where are you?”
The silence continued a moment, then a soft voice said, “Right behind you.”
And when Carmody turned, she was struck in the chest by twin Tazer darts, the sudden shock of electricity knocking her straight to the ground.
37
They had put Solomon in what the orderly called the Day Room. A bunch of bolted-down tables and chairs facing a large wire-mesh window that overlooked the ocean.
Solomon had been right. Standing at the window, he could see houses way down there along the coastline, little two-bedroom beach homes right up against the sand, waves lapping at their back porches.
The Day Room was full of loonies. Some of them sat in chairs, quietly babbling, while others milled about, looking as if they weren’t quite sure what to do with themselves. A stack of game boxes sat untouched on a shelf in the corner. Parcheesi. Checkers. Monopoly. Another shelf held old paperback books and magazines.
A television, mounted high on the wall behind a cage, was set to a channel showing a weeping young couple who seemed to be offering some kind of confession to a talkshow host. Some of the folks watching wept along with them.
A woman in a blue robe kept circling the room, holding an open book in front of her and pretending to read as she quietly sang “Moon River.” The book was upside down.
Every once in a while an old coot stuck in a wheelchair would cry out, “Help me, Jimmy! Help me!” but nobody paid much attention to him. Not the orderlies, not even the guard sitting behind a nearby desk.
Solomon had seen some pretty crazy things on the street, but this place topped them all. He sure wished that nurse lady would show up like she promised. He needed somebody sane to talk to.
He kept looking around for Myra, but didn’t see her. Figured they probably considered her too dangerous to leave her in here. Put her in her own box, just in case she got feisty.
“Mr. St. Fort?”
He turned from the window, saw the nurse lady, Lisa, coming toward him, a smile on her pretty face.
He gave her one of his own. “Afternoon, ma’am.”
“Sorry I took so long to get back to you. I usually spend my day running around like a chicken with its head cut off.”
Solomon jerked his thumb in the direction of the parking lot. “You ever find what you were looking for out there?”
Her eyes clouded and Solomon knew he’d just poked a sore spot.
“Not yet,” she said. “Why don’t you come with me? We can go someplace that isn’t so noisy.”
She gestured to the guard, then turned and started away. Solomon followed her.