Part 14 (1/2)

”What do you mean?”

”Nothing. It's just that he's concerned that they suspect him now for some reason...You know, just 'cause he was out there.”

”Well, was he being suspicious? I mean, more suspicious than usual?”

”Now, Grant...”

”That was a dumb thing for him to do, Mike, but if he hasn't done anything wrong then tell him he's got nothing to worry about. It's that simple.”

”Could you just call that FBI agent up for me, Grant? Just ask him story, you know...ask him if my brother's a suspect.”

Oh, great. He thought about that. He didn't like the gist of the phone call. What if Evan really was guilty of something? Would Mike be compelled to cover it up? ”I'll make the call, but no promises, okay?”

”Fine, Grant, no problem.”

I don't like this, he thought. I don't like this one bit.

Mike changed the subject. ”How's Cherrie?”

”She hasn't come home yet.”

”And Amanda...?”

”Same as usual. I'll talk to you later, Mike. I'll make some inquiries.”

”Thanks for that, Grant.”

He returned to the bedroom and Amanda was there, waiting for him. To him she was the most beautiful woman in the world, even now. Even like this. She had suffered limb paralysis, and it was increasingly difficult for her to speak or swallow. They had to suction the moisture out of the back of her throat so she wouldn't die from inhaling the amount of saliva that healthy people routinely swallow.

Lou Gehrig's Disease was more common in older men, but here she was, not yet fifty, and already the disease was destroying her motor neurons at an alarming pace. Her muscles were deteriorating rapidly, and through it all that wonderful mind of hers was just as it had always been. She had been diagnosed just over a year earlier, and the doctors said she had a few months left in her at the most.

”Sorry, honey, I just need to make a call, and I'll be back with you in a moment,” he told her.

She didn't reply, but he knew she understood.

He grabbed his wallet off the table and walked back into the hallway, carefully closing the bedroom door. He had Dr Harris's card with the number for his room at the Renaissance Hotel scrawled on the back. Mike had already programmed the number into the mobile phone for him, but he didn't have the slightest idea how to retrieve it.

Dr Harris picked up almost immediately.

”Bob speaking.”

”Dr Harris, it's Sergeant Wilson.”

”Grant. How are you?”

”Fine, Bob. Except...Well, to tell you the truth I'm calling because...umm. Is Evan Rose on a list of possible suspects in the Nahatlatch Murders Case?”

”Ahhhh...He's your colleague's brother, am I right?”

”Yeah, that's right. Look, don't get me wrong, I know he's trouble, but he's not that kind of trouble.”

”What exactly do you mean?”

Grant did his best to backtrack, realising what he'd said. ”I don't mean anything by that. I just mean that-”

”This is a little awkward,” Dr Harris said. ”Perhaps we should get together and talk about this? And I don't think it's a good idea to discuss this with your partner, if you haven't already.”

”Why does Evan interest you?” Grant asked.

”He was lurking around the dump sites. He holds a current hunting licence,” Bob said. ”And he's a UBC dropout.”

”I know, but...why is that relevant?”

”This is just routine,” he a.s.sured him. ”He was out snooping around the area and we need to eliminate him as a suspect. I'm sure you'll agree. We'll discuss it tomorrow. In the meantime, if you could throw some cold water on the situation with your partner that would be great.”

Dr Harris hung up the phone. ”This could get complicated.”

Andy shook his head. ”You're not going to be very popular with the Mounties.”

Bob didn't look too worried. ”It isn't a popularity contest. If this guy fits the profile, which he does, then we have to look into it. Thank G.o.d he's just family and not actual RCMP. I don't care so much about Corporal Rose, but I want to keep this Wilson onside if I can. He's a good cop. I could use his help.”

Andy closed the file he was looking at. The crime scene photos were ugly. They had spent some time roaming around the dump sites and discussing the case with Wilson and Rose, who seemed more relaxed about his presence now. Andy had not worked a lot of serials apart from the Stiletto Killer Case, but his training told him that they were dealing with a very different personality this time around. This guy wasn't messing with the bodies as much. No apparent mutilation. Shooting was much less intimate than what the Stiletto Killer had done.

He and Dr Harris had decided to work on the case together. It would act as some good apprentice work, and would look great on Andy's CV. But even more than that, he was genuinely interested in a.s.sessing the possible danger to Makedde while the killer was loose. He suspected that Bob knew about his ulterior motive, but was playing along anyway.

”What have you got on this guy?” he asked.

”There's no hard evidence of course, but he fits the profile well, and we need to look into it.” Bob walked over to the window and crossed his arms. The pose reminded Andy of Detective Inspector Kelley back home-another man he respected a lot.

”Evan Rose, twenty-eight years old, no steady job, lives alone. Known for his antisocial behaviour. He's been picked up during bar fights, that sort of thing. Never actually convicted of any a.s.sault, though. He's a UBC dropout who may hold a grudge against academics or successful students. The victims were bright and attractive. Maybe his student sweetheart jilted him? Remind me to check into that.”

”Doesn't look good, does it?”

The victims were bright and attractive... ”It looks good for us if he's the guy. I don't care who his brother is. Evan Rose has just emerged as one of the prime suspects.”

CHAPTER 25.

Debbie was exhausted. As much as she tried to concentrate on her dilemma and how she could get out of it, she couldn't ignore the hollow ache in her belly. She was starving. She had been restrained in that same spot for almost three days now, and her whole body cried out for release. She needed to move. She needed to rotate her wrists, to walk, to stretch, but she was trapped.

For the moment she let her head hang to one side. She had struggled and screamed and begged and fought, and now she was simply still. She no longer believed she could sway the man who had captured her. She had exhausted all of her strategies, and found a sad, pitiful place within herself that was calm and obedient.

Just do what you want and then let me go.