Hunt Evil, page 11
Rachel was at home when I walked into the penthouse, seated in front of the large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall in one of the sitting rooms. I sunk down beside her directly on the Persian rug where she had positioned herself, hugging her knees. She was watching the local news on one of the networks.
“Where did you go?” she asked me, her gaze fixed on the TV screen. “You were gone forever.”
“I went to get some fresh air like I told you, then I had to go down to see Shepard in his office. He called me while I was out. They found stuff belonging to Mom and Neera on the roof.”
She turned to look at me then, her black eyes alive, expectant but also fearful. “What did they find?”
“A silver bracelet that belongs to Mom and one of the shoes to Neera’s favorite doll. You know, the one she insists on having with her in bed when she goes to sleep. The one that we realized was missing. She calls it Mimi.”
“I know which you mean. So they found one of Mimi’s shoes? They’re red patent-leather Mary Janes, if I remember correctly.”
I nodded. “Yes, they are. One of the red shoes was on the roof, so now they think she did use a helicopter somehow to get on the roof and take Neera. Obviously, they were both there. And that’s not the only thing that’s happened. There’s been a sighting of Mom in midtown. Somewhere in the Theater District. Shepard and tons of his cop and agent buddies are there right now looking for her.”
“Really?” She removed her hands from around her knees and sat up taller. “That’s great! Let’s hope they find her.”
“Yeah, I know. I saw her too, not too far away from that area. You know, when I was out walking. I tried to get to her, but I think she saw me and managed to get away. She just disappeared.”
“Wow. What was she wearing?”
I pictured her in my mind’s eye. “Jeans and some kind of dark sweater. Nothing glamorous. Her hair was pulled back. She had no makeup on.”
“Are you sure it was her? Did you get a really good look?”
“It was definitely her. She wasn’t that far away. Unfortunately she was on the other side of the street, and there was lots of traffic, so I couldn’t get to her in time. A huge truck blocked my view for several seconds. That’s when she managed to disappear. Now that they’re telling me she was seen near that area, I’m even more certain I saw her.”
A movie began on the television, so Rachel switched to CNN. They were in the middle of having a group discussion about Mom. At the bottom of the screen, you could read the words ESCAPED SERIAL KILLER KIDNAPS HER OWN DAUGHTER TO NEGOTIATE MOVIE DEAL.
We watched the so-called experts, a lawyer as well as law enforcement and mental health professionals, debate what makes a mother do what our mother had done. The final verdict ended up fifty-fifty: two believed that Mom was just an incurable psychopath with no regard for anyone else, while the other two claimed she was a victim of an increasingly materialistic, shallow world in which people did anything to be seen and heard. The show was briefly interrupted by breaking news during which a black female anchor reported that a third rape murder of a twenty-something gay man had been found in the Chelsea area. By now, the police felt confident they were dealing with the same killer who was targeting gay males on Manhattan. The authorities had been able to determine that the perpetrator frequented popular gay bars in order to get to his victims. The perp was believed to be a tall, well-built man who likely presented himself as being gay himself so he could pick up gay men without anyone suspecting anything fishy. So far, the authorities didn’t have any suspects and they warned all gay men to be extra careful.
The story brought back dark memories from my years in juvie. There had been plenty of dudes raping younger, weaker men there. I had been one of them in the beginning. When the cops finally nailed the homophobe creep, I was sure it would turn out to be one of the sickos who had raped me and lots of other newcomers to Ramsdale Juvenile Detention Center. One time one of the rape victims had died from internal bleeding. Not that anything happened to the bastards who had gangraped the poor guy. I shuddered at the image of the bloody boy who we had found in the basement.
The expert panel was back when my phone rang. I answered the call.
“Shane,” a familiar voice said. “It’s Steve. How are you doing? I just saw that the media found out about the movie ploy. That can’t be good.”
“No, because now we actually have to do the movie if we want to have a chance of getting Neera back alive. Mom won’t hesitate to kill her if she finds out we were just trying to trick her.”
“Right. What’s Larry saying?”
“As long as I pay most of the production costs, he’s pretty pleased, actually. He thinks all the media attention will make the movie successful at least financially, no matter what Mom’s changing it to. Everyone’s gonna want to see it only because she wrote it.”
“He’s probably right about that. So you’ll make your money back then. Well, hopefully it won’t get to that. Hopefully the authorities will have caught her long before the movie goes into production.”
“Yeah, let’s pray that happens.” I filled him in on the latest developments of the situation since we hadn’t spoken for a while. I even told him about having spotted Mom myself and thinking it might just have been a hallucination. “But given that someone else saw her nearby, I’m thinking she was for real. It was just weird how quickly she managed to get away.”
“Sounds like it. Hey, did you ever talk to Dr. Navarro?”
“Um, no, I never got around to calling her. Why?”
“Nothing really. But I think you could use some support given all that’s happening, don’t you?”
“I guess, though, I’m not feeling that bad. I know that sounds weird, but I’m actually coping okay.” Alcohol was all I needed to destress these days. As long as I had access to a drink every now and then to numb the guilt that followed me around like a persistent cold, I would be okay. I’d cope with whatever happened. I wasn’t drinking that much. When Neera was back and safe, I would quit altogether, but right now I needed it or all that guilt would eat me alive.
“What about the drinking?” Steve asked, as though he’d been able to see into my mind in that moment, heard what I was thinking. “Are you still drinking every day?”
I’d told Steve that I’d begun to take the edge off by having some liquor, and now I deeply regretted having confessed that to him. I should have known he would use it against me eventually.
“Yeah, but it’s fine,” I replied, my guard up now. “When this is all over, I won’t have any more, but right now I need it. Can you blame me?”
“No, I can’t, but I’m just trying to make you see that there are better ways to deal with this situation. Better ways to cope that are more productive. Maybe Dr. Navarro can hypnotize you again. Maybe that will result in you coming up with who’s helping your mom. You might know more about her than you want to admit to yourself. Things that you’ve made yourself forget that might be helpful to find Neera.”
I fisted my hands and ground my teeth, tensing my jaw and neck. Beads of cool sweat formed around my hairline and I trembled with indignity. I could sense my pulse pounding in my ear. Steve was right; I might very well uncover secrets hidden deep in my mind regarding Mom if Dr. Navarro hypnotized me again. But what if I also revealed— accidentally—that I was the one responsible for Ariel’s death, not Neera? I remembered that I had been in control of myself the first time I was hypnotized, but maybe this time I would let something slip. I might get so relaxed that I just told her. What would she think of me then? Would she tell the cops? I didn’t think she was allowed to, but what if they gave her a subpoena? Didn’t she have to tell the truth then? I couldn’t remember the rules.
It suddenly dawned on me that my strong reaction wasn’t actually due to fear that the psychiatrist would tell on me. It was about me not wanting to deal with what I had done. I knew myself, if I was forced to deal with having let Ariel die, if I was forced to face the truth about what I had done, I would turn myself in. I wouldn’t be able to live with it. I had thought that I could, but more and more it was becoming clear that wasn’t the case. I needed to make myself forget that I had caused Ariel’s death so I could raise Neera myself. It might have been a huge mistake, but it was too late now. It was already done and I couldn’t undo it, just deal with the consequences. The fact of the matter was that I couldn’t go back to jail. I had to be around for Neera. No one understood her like I did. What would happen to her if I wasn’t there to guide her?
She would turn into Mom, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.
26
The authorities never found Mom. They did find a pair of black Prada unisex sunglasses in the area, however, that they determined belonged to her. Not only did they have access to her DNA now, but I also could confirm they were hers; I had seen those particular shades on the bridge of her nose more than once.
“Well, at least it was more productive than the other tips we’ve gotten,” Agent McHenry muttered where he sat on the other side of his desk, putting away the evidence bag containing the glasses. I was back in his office downtown. This time I had known I was heading down there, so I had left the gun in my nightstand.
“What do you mean?” I asked him, still quietly searching my memory to see if Mom had been wearing those glasses on top of her head when I had seen her across the street. I honestly couldn’t remember.
He glanced at me. “We found something that actually proves that she was there this time.”
“This time? Are you saying that you’ve gotten more than one tip from someone claiming to have spotted her?” I asked.
The burly agent let out a short, rumbling laugh. “You could say that again. We’ve received about seven so far. While it’s common that people see someone they believe is the perp, it’s not often that they’re actually correct. As unlikely as it is the tipster saw the real thing, we must still check it out. We can’t just assume they’re wrong. It seems we just got there too late this time, not that the woman was wrong.”
“The woman?”
“It was a female who called in the tip.”
“Oh.”
The agent’s eyes went back to the box where he had placed the evidence bag. “It’s odd how’s she dropping so many items.” He looked at me again. “Was she always this careless? She didn’t strike me as that kind of person.”
I had to think about that. “No. Not as far as I can remember, but then again, I didn’t spend much time with her after age thirteen. Maybe she changed. Maybe she’s gotten more careless.”
“I suppose that’s possible.”
“So, what happens now?”
He gave a lopsided little smile. “Well, that depends on your mom. We should hear from her soon again. Is she a fast writer?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I honestly can’t say. I wasn’t ever paying attention to that. She wrote her screenplays when I was a little kid. She was mostly editing when I got older. Don’t you have any other leads? What about the helicopter companies?”
“So far, we’ve had no luck with them. No one has been in touch with your mom or even had a pilot flying the route we described to them. But we’re still pushing. Agents are talking to people who might have seen or heard something that doesn’t gel. One of the pilots might be lying. Even so, at the moment, our best bet to find your mom and sister quickly is if she makes contact again. We have flown in the best tech guys in the country to track her down over the internet. We’ll find her this time. We’ll uncover her IP address in no time.”
Agent McHenry told me to hang in there and that he would be in touch as soon as there were new developments. In the meantime, I might as well go home in case she contacted the apartment. There were agents there, ready to track her down if she called or appeared. I really didn’t think she would call our landline or my cell phone. Certainly she wouldn’t just swing by. She wasn’t that careless. She would keep contacting Larry Levy instead, via email.
I pondered giving Dr. Navarro a call after all. I was being selfish, worrying about turning myself in once I had been forced to accept that I was almost as bad as Mom, letting someone die when I might have saved them had I only tried. What if Dr. Navarro did uncover secrets hidden in the deepest recesses of my mind that would help us find Mom and save Neera?
Wasn’t it worth a try at least?
Of course it was, I decided, and rummaged for my phone in my jacket pocket. Of course I should let Dr. Navarro hypnotize me, search my mind for information that could help find Neera. Why didn’t I come to this conclusion when Steve had brought it up the first time? It was a no-brainer. So what that guilt was weighing me down, making me sick to my stomach? I deserved all the pain and suffering there was for what I had done. I was a killer, just like Mom and Dad after all.
I found her phone number among my contacts and speed-dialed it.
Dr. Navarro’s voicemail picked up, asking me to leave a message.
“Hi, it’s me, Shane. I need to see you. Can we make an appointment? The sooner I can come, the better. I think you might be able to help me find Neera. She’s missing. Mom’s kidnapped her. Please call me as soon as you hear this.”
I put the phone back in my pocket only to pull it right back out again because it was ringing. That was fast, I thought, expecting to see Dr. Navarro’s phone number displayed on the screen. But it was Steve who was calling.
“Hey Steve,” I said as I answered.
“Hey you. What are you up to? Any news about your mom or Neera?”
I told him about the FBI having found Mom’s sunglasses in the area where she was supposedly spotted, and that that was all for now. I also told him that I had called Dr. Navarro to let her know I wanted to see her.
“You’re right that it can only help if I let Dr. Navarro hypnotize me,” I finished saying.
“I’m glad to hear that, Shane. She’ll get back to you soon.”
“What’s going on with you?”
“Just working as usual. But, hey, I was calling because I need to talk to you about something. It’s pretty urgent. Do you have time to come over to my house?”
“Sure. I could be there in like an hour. Does that work?”
“That would be excellent.”
There was a subway station a few blocks away from the penthouse with trains that would take me out to Astoria. I had a quick bite, then jogged over there, curious to hear what Steve had to tell me. He had sounded odd, not quite like himself. It must be something important.
I was still trying to guess what it might be when I got to the 30th Avenue station, which was the closest to my old apartment building out in Astoria where Steve still lived. Dr. Navarro had yet to return my call, I noticed as I checked my phone on the way over to his place.
I walked into the four-story building ten minutes later, one of the residents exiting as I arrived. Climbing the stairs to the third floor where he lived, I discovered that his front door was ajar. As I neared it, I could hear voices coming from the other side of it, inside Shane’s apartment. It sounded like Steve was on the phone with someone.
“She’s dead,” he said, which made me pause right outside his apartment. Who was dead?
“Yes, I’m sure,” Steve confirmed to whomever he was talking. “I did it myself.”
Silence ensued for the next several seconds during which Steve mumbled “yes”, “of course”, and “uh-huh” a couple of times. “It was the only option. Hey, I’ve got to go. He’ll be here any moment now.”
As Steve said goodbye, promising to be in touch soon, I hurried down the stairs. I was not going to let on that I had heard any of this conversation. The person he’d been speaking to obviously knew he was expecting me. Who could it have been?
I had no clue why I suddenly imagined Mom having been on the other line. Don’t be silly, a voice in my head whispered. Why would Steve be talking to your mother?
I laughed and shook my head. Steve would never go behind my back, helping Mom with anything. If anyone was aware what an evil psycho Mom was, it was this guy. What would he gain by helping her in any way? She was a fugitive and a serial killer. Why would he want to have anything to do with her? I needed to stop being so fucking paranoid!
But instead of walking straight up to Steve’s place, I hung out in the stairway for another five minutes before I went there.
27
I gave Steve’s front door a light knock, then pushed it open all the way.
Steve was sitting bent over on a chair, doing something on his laptop. Being a website developer, he was often in that position, which had given him a permanently protruding head and rounded shoulders whenever he walked around. He looked up as I took a step inside the apartment.
“Oh hey, Shane!” Then he frowned, looking at the door. “Was the door open?”
“Yeah. You didn’t hear me knock?” I noticed that he had some bruising on the side of his face.
“No, I was so into this blog post I was reading. About cross-dressers in Pakistan. Can you believe there are transvestites over there? I don’t think I would ever risk it. Can you imagine what would happen to me if Islam extremists found out about my little secret? No, on second thought, don’t. Just to imagine it is terrifying. They’d cut my balls off and make me eat them for starters!” He shivered and put the laptop away, contemplating me all the while. I couldn’t help but notice that something was off with him. He seemed nervous, speaking faster than normal. Why was he nervous?
“How are you doing, Shane?” he asked, tilting his head. “You hanging in there?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. All things considered.” I gave a mirthless chuckle. “What happened to your face?”
His hand flew up to the bruised side of his face and he touched it gently. He smiled at me. “I slipped and fell in the stairs yesterday. Landed on my face. I’m such a klutz.” He scoffed. “I’m lucky I didn’t break my neck.”
