Dies Irae Page 26

  And it had started out to be such a lovely day. An “A” on her chem exam. John asking her out again. Maybe that’s what did it. The first time she’d gone out with him, they’d found Shannon’s body. The second time, she’d almost been kidnapped. And now, she agrees to try another date, and this happens.

  She strained to hear above the engine and caught snatches of voices from up front. What were they saying? Where was she? Tara coughed behind her gag.

  She moved a few inches and felt something poking her in the shoulder, something long and slender. A tire iron. It took her three tries, but she got one end of the iron to slip under her gag and yank it down over her chin.

  Streams of twilight through cracks around the cargo cover helped as she managed to hook a finger under her belt that the phone pouch was attached to. Thank you, guardian angel, for making her wear an oversized sweatshirt that hid the pouch.

  Inch by inch, she scooted the pouch closer to her hands. She fumbled with the zipper on the little bag for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she pulled it back just enough she could jab a couple of her fingers inside and force the zipper open. The phone immediately fell out and slipped to the floor of the SUV.

  Now what was she supposed to do? Feeling more lightheaded by the minute, she fumbled around for the phone and managed to raise her hips to push the phone so that it landed near her chest.

  She maneuvered the phone near one of her fingers she could still wiggle and pressed the button to wake it up. The she scooted her body down to get the phone closer to her face.

  The phone’s bright screen lit up. Her small moment of triumph was short-lived as she remembered she hadn’t heeded her father’s words and added a screenlock. No easy emergency call button at the bottom.

  Feeling more and more as if she was sinking into a dark pool, she knew she would never be able to press the phone button and then dial 9-1-1 with her nose. She slid the home screen over to her Favorites list and nosed the link to automatically dial her father.

  It rang and rang and continued to ring. No answer. “Daddy, pick up!” she wanted to yell, but it went to his voicemail instead. By now, she wasn’t sure she was coherent, but she whispered a short message.

  Then she nosed another link on her Favorites screen and waited. This time, a voice came on immediately, and Tara found herself sobbing so much, she couldn’t speak. She forced herself to calm down, to try and say what was happening. But it was hard, so hard, and everything seemed to be fading away.

  * * *

  Drayco knew he’d promised Sarg to keep a low profile, but his curiosity got the better of him. He drove down the street in front of his townhome, looking for law enforcement of any stripe. He didn’t see any MPD, but he also wasn’t expecting to see the one law officer standing in front of his place.

  He opened the passenger door to his car and gave a low, short whistle call. Nelia Tyler, not in her deputy uniform, turned around and hesitated briefly before she slid in beside him, and he took off. “How about a nice tour around the Mall?” he said, pointing the car downtown.

  “What’s going on, Drayco?”

  “I should ask you the same thing. Why are you in town?”

  “Had a day off and decided to visit.”

  “Visit me?”

  “Not at first. I wanted to check out a couple of the law schools in town. Talk to a few people about getting my degree through night classes or weekends.”

  “And your husband gave his blessing?” Drayco added sarcastically, “Just like that?”

  “I’ll tell him when I’m enrolled.”

  She fiddled with the edges of her sleeve. “I also wanted to say I’m sorry. I was bitchy with you the other day, at the Sheriff’s Office. You didn’t deserve that.”

  He gave her a quick smile, then found a parking place on Fourth Street, a few steps from the Air and Space Museum. That would never happen in summer. He was grateful because he preferred hiding in plain sight.

  Nelia turned toward him when he turned the engine off. “Now can you tell me what we’re really doing here?”

  “Parking. While I figure out my next move.”

  “What happened?”

  “Onweller has a warrant out for me. Which means you’re aiding and abetting a fugitive.”

  “I’m off duty. And I’ll plead ignorance if asked. What did you do?”

  “The trip with Gilbow. When Sarg relays to Onweller what I found out this morning, I have a feeling that warrant will be forgotten.”

  “A break in the case?”

  “Did you know mistletoe was a part of ancient Druidic rituals? The first time I was in Dr. Andrew Gilbow’s office, I wondered why a man with his ego would have a mistletoe print hanging on his wall, taking the place of another award. Mistletoe was called the Druid’s herb, with alleged miraculous powers.”

  “Gilbow and Druids? You’re telling me he’s behind the murders of the two college girls and it’s some sacrificial thing?”

  “At least two murders. Maybe more.”

  Nelia had a way of studying him that was unnerving, her gaze a soul-penetrating missile. “You’re not happy about this?”

  Drayco drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Gilbow can be a narcissistic blowhard. But his books have helped a lot of people. He’s mentored thousands of students, many going on to distinguished careers. And there’s the cancer center he and Adele are funding.”

  Nelia placed her hand lightly on his arm. “He’s fooled many people.”

  He was suddenly uncomfortable, whether from the thought that he himself was one of those people or from Nelia’s touch, he wasn’t sure. “I can just imagine the psychologists who’ll be called to testify in his behalf.”

  “So what now?”

  “Now? I suppose that I—”

  The ringing of his cellphone startled him. For a moment, he toyed with not answering it, but yanked it out of his pocket and pressed “Answer.” Before he could utter one word, a weak, sobbing voice that was so faint, he almost couldn’t hear it, said, “Falkor? I couldn’t get Daddy and I … ” The rest was garbled.

  Drayco tried to calm Tara through his voice. “Tara, sweetheart, where are you? We can come and get you.”

  “I don’t know … car … so sleepy.”

  He guessed Tara had dropped the phone when all he heard was the sound of an engine and something else he couldn’t identify. Then they were disconnected.

  46

  Drayco tried calling Sarg but was sent to voicemail. He left a terse message about Tara, cursed the day when pagers became passé and hoped Sarg had put a roving bug on Tara’s phone. He dialed another number he’d only programmed in recently.

  “Onweller,” the voice answered.

  “This is extremely important so don’t interrupt. I need you to get a message to Sarg stat. And I need you to put out an ATL on a kidnapping.”

  “Drayco? You have a lot of nerve calling me after that stunt you pulled with Andrew Gilbow.” So Sarg hadn’t talked to Onweller yet. Where was he?

  “Shut up, Onweller, and listen. I have reason to believe Tara Sargosian has been abducted, quite possibly by our killer, who happens to be Andrew Gilbow. I don’t have time to get into a pissing match with you. So do the right thing. I’ll see what I can do on this end.” Drayco hung up.

  Nelia said, “What next?”

  Drayco used his phone to see the list of Bankton warehouses Sarg sent along and started scrolling. Three had burned down, leaving the other twelve Sarg mentioned. Drayco briefly considered the one where Happy and Elvis lived, but discounted it. That left eleven.

  Nelia peered over his arm at the list on the screen. You think he’s going to take her to one of the warehouses?”

  “Assuming he doesn’t suspect we’re onto him.”

  “Didn’t the senator put extra security on all his properties after the first fires?”

  “He got ATF to check them out. Too miserly to pay for round-the-clock security.”

  “Okay. Washington
isn’t that big of a city. Even if Sarg or Onweller aren’t able to call out the troops, you and I should be able to check those addresses.”

  “Unless we run out of time.” Drayco glanced at the clock in the car.

  “Sarg will get the word before then and leap into action. So all you and I need to do is start down the list, right? We could go to your place and get my car. Split up and cover twice the territory.”

  “No time. And I don’t want you without any backup.”

  “If his only weapon is that knife he uses, I can take him. Unless he has a partner or coven, or whatever a group of Druids is called. Cailan’s uncle is a religion professor. Maybe he’s involved as a partner?”

  Drayco clenched his jaw. “I hope not. I don’t think so. Not Jaffray.”

  “Well then. I guess we start at the top of the list and work down?”

  Drayco paused. He played Tara’s call in his mind and tried to remember every sound he’d heard. In addition to the car engine noise, he’d heard something else. He concentrated. A sound that was familiar, that was … an unusual square pattern of amethyst and silver that felt like needles.

  He knew that sound—it was a white-top helicopter, one of the Sikorsky Sea Kings used by the military. If he could hear it that well over the phone, it had to be flying low after taking off or landing.

  Drayco quickly scanned the list of warehouse addresses, looking for the one closest to a base. None outside the District, ruling out Andrews and Quantico. Whitetops also regularly flew into Bolling in Anacostia. One of the warehouse addresses was half a mile from Bolling.

  Drayco started the car. “I think we can narrow that list in a hurry.” By his calculations, barring some VIP motorcade or accident backup—neither of which was rare in these parts—they could make it to the warehouse in fifteen.

  He handed the phone to Nelia. “If Sarg calls, give him that address,” Drayco pointed to their destination.

  For the second time that day, he ignored every speed limit. Even without motorcades or accidents, it took them twenty minutes. And still no call from Sarg.

  Like most of the warehouses on Bankton’s list, it wasn’t in a Disneyfied area of D.C. Another empty two-story building stood sentinel nearby, with every window broken and hardly a square inch of brick up to six feet untouched by larger-than-life graffiti.

  Drayco pulled the car into the shadow of that building where they could watch the warehouse without being spotted. To the side of the warehouse, he spied a white SUV with government tags and a Park Service logo on the side.

  “Bingo,” Drayco said, softly.

  He reached under the dash on the driver’s side and pulled the cover off a secret compartment. With one click of a latch, he released the hidden gun.

  Nelia unbuckled her seat belt to join him, but Drayco nixed that idea. “I’ll go in first. You keep trying to get Sarg on the phone. If that doesn’t work, call the D.C. police. I’ve got that number programmed in, too.”

  Nelia looked unhappy but reluctantly agreed.

  The warehouse was impressive as crumbling abandoned warehouses go. Close to a football field in length, faded blotches of lettering indicated this warehouse used to be a print shop.

  He slipped around a corner which took him out of view of Nelia. Noting a door with a lock slightly open, he slipped a finger between the door and frame to test for creaking. It was darker inside than out. The crack of light he’d let in when he entered might be obvious inside. He had no choice.

  After a moment to allow his eyes to adjust, he focused on sounds. He didn’t hear Tara, but he did hear scraping noises and footsteps from someone moving around. It was painfully slow going as he picked his way through the front hallway toward an opening that looked like it led into the belly of the beast. He had to control his desire to charge in there and snatch Tara to take her to safety.

  He’d been looking down every few seconds to make sure he wasn’t going to trip over something and give his presence away. It was during one of those quick glances he realized he’d passed a small alcove.

  Too late, he realized someone was in that alcove. He spun around, but the figure anticipated Drayco and was now behind him. He felt a sudden sting at the back of his neck.

  Reaching around, he grabbed the wrist of his unseen attacker and used his body to push the person against a wall. Adele Gilbow, dressed in a Park Service uniform, looked up at him, smiling. “If you wanted to go dancing, handsome, all you had to do was ask.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Where is who, darling?”

  “Tara Sargosian.” But as he said those words, Adele’s head began to elongate and float up toward the ceiling. He no longer felt his arms and legs. And every molecule of air he breathed in was like a rubber band snapping in his lungs. This was like one of his sleep paralysis episodes, maybe a little worse.

  He heard a voice he thought was his own saying, “What was that?”

  “Are you referring to this?” Adele held up a mini-rocket, no, a needle. “It’s a little Special-K. We used up the last roofie on the Sargosian girl. But ketamine works faster anyway.”

  A deeper voice floated in from somewhere. “What’s going on, Adele?”

  “Our hauptstimme has arrived. I know we hadn’t planned it this way. But why look a gift sacrifice in the mouth?” She lightly stroked Drayco’s lips. “And such a nice mouth, too.”

  He vaguely saw Adele slipping out the door and returning. He heard her say, as if from a long distance, “I don’t see anyone else. He came alone.”

  Drayco knew he’d passed out for a few moments when he found himself on his back on the floor, staring up at the exposed duct work and pipes snaking across the ceiling. It took every ounce of strength he could muster to move, but he’d had a lot of practice at breaking through sleep paralysis.

  He flopped his head over to the right where Tara was on the floor near one wall, tied up, and hopefully just unconscious. He couldn’t tell from here if she was breathing.

  He flopped his head to the left and squinted his eyes to clear the blurriness. This warehouse wasn’t empty, filled with the rotting wooden shipping crates and trash from homeless squatters.

  He caught odd smells, too, one so strong and so acrid, it was almost sweet. Drayco also saw a blurry image of a figure that looked liked Andrew Gilbow crouched over a fire in the center of the warehouse. He seemed to be holding something long and serrated—a knife?—and wearing a long, white-and-gold robe.

  Adele knelt beside Drayco and started unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m afraid that’s going to have to come off, darling. Getting the knife in precisely the right place is very important.”

  She stopped to look him in the eye, answering the question he couldn’t ask until he got his mouth working. “It’s a shame Tara has to die, but Andrew is very adamant about tidiness. She saw us after we dumped Shannon’s body. And when we botched that other kidnapping attempt.”

  Adele bent over farther and kissed him on the lips. “Did you like the notes? Sending them to you was my idea. The others sent to those girls were Andrew’s thing. Part of his whole cleansing ritual to appease whichever God he believes in.”

  Adele whispered in his ear. “I don’t believe in any of that hokum-pokum. I just hate being bored. And Andrew is starting to bore me.”

  She kissed him again. “You, on the other hand, are a much more interesting game. Even Andrew realized that. When you came along, he knew you were the main course. The girls were the appetizers.”

  Drayco didn’t know how many minutes had passed. The ketamine could be wearing off in a few minutes, depending upon how much was in that dose. He spied a shape on the floor near Tara he’d missed a moment ago. It looked like his gun. He’d forgotten he had it.

  If he could just muscle through the paralysis … he tried wiggling the fingers on one hand. After a few tries, he was pleased to find he could do it. Inspired by that success, he tried wiggling his toes inside his shoes.

  Adele propped him up, leanin
g him against her to remove his jacket. Now that he was upright, his vision was clearer. Clear enough he saw the outlines of a face peeking in through a hallway entry straight ahead. Nelia.

  Drayco found he could move his toes and also feel the floor under his palms. He blinked slowly and rhythmically three times at Nelia, then moved his eyes in the direction where Tara was lying.

  Nelia nodded in response and held up her hand with three fingers, folding them one by one, counting silently to three. On “three,” she charged into the room and picked up one of the wooden pallets she hurled at Adele, as Drayco ducked to one side.

  Adele almost didn’t get out of the way, her eyes wide in shock. She scrambled to her feet and yelled a warning to her husband.

  Drayco willed his legs to move, made it to a kneeling position, then hoisted himself up to stand. His less-blurry eyes were seeing better now. Just in time to watch a startled Gilbow lose his footing and fall, his shoe knocking over a can into the fire pit.

  With a sudden insight, Drayco knew what his befuddled brain was trying to tell him about that familiar strong odor. Gasoline. The same accelerant found in the other warehouse fires Gilbow used to burn them to the ground.

  And now gasoline was pouring out of the can Gilbow had knocked over, straight into the fire and turning it into a growing inferno, feeding hungrily off the large banquet of wood around it.

  Adele fled toward an exit from the building which is when Drayco found his mouth was working. “Go after her,” he called to Nelia. “I’ll get Tara.”

  Nelia initiated pursuit, and an adrenaline burst pushed Drayco toward Tara. He picked her up and carried her out the same door Adele and Nelia vanished through. He could tell now Tara was breathing. And a quick check of her pulse told him she had a strong heartbeat.

  He didn’t have anything to cut her bonds, but they didn’t appear so tight they’d cause damage. No signs of Nelia or Adele, but he did hear sirens in the background and gauged they’d be here in a little over a minute. Then he remembered Gilbow as dark smoke poured out of the warehouse door.