The Botanist, page 17
He continued reading while she worked. Her phone rang, and she talked with her father for a while. He could tell she was structuring her words very carefully to keep from alarming him. Cody couldn’t help but admire her. He thought she ought to tell her parents the truth, but he could tell she was looking out for them.
She’d found some vegetables in the fridge and made them both what turned out to be surprisingly good omelets, accompanied by toast. Before she ate, she said grace, another thing that surprised him. It wasn’t that she didn’t seem the type—she didn’t strike him either way—but she was so no-nonsense, so independent, that he wouldn’t have thought her religious.
The vague awkwardness as they began to eat lasted only a few minutes. It was broken by Alex, of course.
“So, your father disapproves of your job?”
Cody’s hand froze on the way to his mouth.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me; I was just making conversation.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s all right. It’s just that most people don’t pick up on it so quickly. Or exactly.”
“Well, you said you didn’t want people telling him that you babysit witnesses all day. So it’s either that, or he’s a cop too and just really hard on you.”
“No, not a cop. My dad is definitely not a cop. My uncle was.”
He could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. “Is he the man in picture on your desk? You’re, like, six or something.”
“Fifteen. And yes, that’s my uncle. That was the last picture I took with him before he died.”
Alex’s playful expression turned serious. “In the line of duty?”
“Yeah.” She didn’t press but the question hung in the air, and he found he was comfortable sharing it with her. “He surprised a couple of drug dealers peddling their wares and it got ugly. He was shot in the crossfire.”
“No vest?”
“No. But it wouldn’t have mattered. He took one to the head. Never woke up.”
Alex sighed. “Cody, I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
“Is he the reason you became a cop?”
“Yeah. I idolized the guy. He was a decorated hero in this community before he accepted a detective’s position up north. Just wish he would’ve lived long enough to see me follow him.”
“So why doesn’t your father approve?”
“I don’t know. My dad and my uncle seemed close. Some of my earliest memories are of spending weekends with my dad and Uncle Clyde. They always got along. We’d go fishing or watch sports, or work on the house for my mom. We even went up north once or twice for a big-deal ball game. But for some reason my father didn’t want me to take up my uncle’s profession. Tom thinks they must have had a falling out as adults.”
“Makes sense.”
“Not to me. Even if they did, that doesn’t mean that cop work is bad. I might as well have gone into the street side pharmacist business, for all my dad’s pride in my profession.” Cody stopped and cleared his throat, realizing he was venting.
Alex didn’t seem to notice. She was studying her food. “I think Tom must be right, though, about the falling out.”
“Why?”
“It’s just odd. Police work is a really noble profession. Unless your dad is a . . . some color-collar criminal—”
Cody chuckled.
“—he should at least be okay with it. Something must have happened to give him a grudge.”
Cody shrugged. “Maybe. Probably. He won’t talk about it, though.” He waved his hand at her. “It’s an old argument anyway. I went through the academy six years ago, and he still tries to talk me out of it.”
Alex’s eyebrows went up, and she laughed. “Six years later and still trying, huh?”
Her amusement dissipated the anger he’d been nursing for the last few days, and he found himself grinning back at her. “Yup. Always concocting schemes to get me to work with him, join other companies, overnight millionaire scams.”
“Really?” She laughed harder.
“Yeah.”
After a moment, her smile faded a bit. “Sorry, I guess that’s probably not funny to you.”
“No, it’s nice to laugh about it. Easier than being angry, anyway.”
Alex nodded.
“What about you? Your parents hate photography?”
“No. I haven’t had too many problems with my parents—at least, not of that nature. They’ve always been supportive of anything I want to do.”
“Well then, of what nature are your problems with them?”
“Well, there was the whole adoption-deception thing.”
Cody’s gaze dropped to his plate. He’d forgotten. “Right.”
“Other than that, my mom can nag with the best of them, and my dad is pretty overprotective. He scared away a few boyfriends in high school. But that’s just normal family stuff.”
He nodded and they were silent for a few minutes. “You know,” he finally said, “I’ve gotta say, I’m impressed with the way you’re handling all of this. Most other people wouldn’t be nearly so calm about it.”
Alex studied the table for a moment before answering. “First of all,” she said, “I think you’re giving me too much credit. I’m only pretending to be calm. It’s totally an act.”
He grinned. “Noted.”
“Other than that—” She lifted a shoulder. “Between the shock of the adoption news and some . . . other realities of life, I suppose I’ve just learned to take things in stride. Fight for what you want, of course, but being angry about things you can’t control—there’s just no point to it. Like my adoption—my aunt in Arizona made me see how blessed I actually was. Especially considering how I was found, who knows what kind of biological parents I had. Or if I had any by that point? I was put in a good home with loving parents. I couldn’t have asked for better.” She shrugged again. “Whatever happens, especially if it’s not something you choose, I think there’s a reason for it. I think there’s a reason I’m here. Whether just to help catch this guy or to have an experience I’ll grow from or”—she glanced up at him—“some other reason, I don’t know. But I believe it just the same.”
She was sounding more like the praying type, now, but Cody respected her for it. “I hope you’re right.”
They finished the meal in silence, and she got up to clear the table.
He stood. “Uh-uh. No way. You cooked. I get to do the dishes.”
“’Kay. It’ll take you all of three minutes. Um, assuming the dishwasher works, that is.”
“I think it does.” They found some dishwasher soap under the sink and assumed that meant the appliance worked. They only had six or seven dishes to put in, so they wouldn’t run it anyway.
“So,” Alex said when he was done, “are you still working on that stuff?”
He glanced at the file. “No, I’m pretty much done, except I need to call Frank. Why?”
“There are some decks of cards in the living room. You up for a game?”
Cody smiled. “Sure.”
He followed her into the next room where they sat on opposite sides of the coffee table. He decided his call to Frank could wait.
SITTING in his office, Captain Brecken rubbed the bridge of his nose while pressing the receiver to his ear. The shock of the revelation the caller had made had worn off, but a dull ache brewed behind the captain’s eyes.
“And they’re certain?” he asked.
He barely registered what the tinny voice talking in his ear answered, except that it was an affirmative. He supposed the question had been mostly rhetorical anyway. Minutes later, he put down the phone. This case was becoming more complicated by the hour, and that worried the captain. A lot. Mt. Dessicate didn’t see many things like this, and he wasn’t sure they were equipped to deal with it.
He sighed as he walked into the room where his four lead detectives’ desks faced one another. They were all working overtime on this case, which meant they went home for dinner, but then came back for a few more hours. Cody, the only one not married, barely bothered to go home at all, which was why the captain was surprised that he wasn’t at his desk. Of course the one he needed to talk to wasn’t there.
“Tom, where’s your partner?”
“Dunno, captain. I haven’t seen Cody all afternoon. Assume he’s out chasing a lead.”
“Ope!” Out of the corner of his eye, the Captain saw Frank slap his palm to his forehead. From Frank, that was admission of guilt.
“Frank?”
“Sorry, captain. He’s at the safe house with Alex.”
“Why?”
“The uniform assigned to her had to leave—called back to duty by his captain in Gunnison. I was supposed to send a replacement hours ago, but I got busy with this and totally forgot.”
The captain sighed. It wasn’t really Frank’s fault. A criminalist by the name of Tandy was being sent out to deal with the journal Cody and his PI friend had found. The captain didn’t have the time or inclination to deal with all the red tape, so he’d made Frank his liaison until Tandy arrived. Frank had been on the phone making travel arrangements and giving instructions, directions, and information to half a hundred people all afternoon. No wonder he’d forgotten something as mundane as a spare unie.
“Find a replacement now, Frank, and I mean now. If you can’t get one over there in less than fifteen minutes, one of you go. Cody has other business.”
All three detectives stopped what they were doing to stare at him.
“What’s going on, Captain?” Tom asked.
“I just got a call from the Point of the Mountain. Jagar Resputa wants to see Cody. Says he has some information about our case.”
“And you believe him?”
The captain glared at Court.
“Uh, I mean, should we believe him, sir? He’s just trying to waste our time—torment Cody some more.”
The captain sighed again. He was doing that a lot today. “Just before the prison called, I got another call, from one of the search teams. Twenty minutes ago, they found another mass grave.”
The silence was so uncomfortable, it was prickly; the detectives squirmed in their seats.
“Is it one through eleven?” Tom asked.
“No,” the captain said. “It’s thirty-six through forty-eight.”
Court gasped; Frank’s mouth dropped open; Tom shut his eyes, expression pained. The gravity of the situation settled on each of them. The captain saw it. He felt what they felt as well. Unless the killer had numbered his plots randomly, there were nearly fifty victims here. And who knew how many more?
“I don’t want to deal with Resputa anymore than you do, and I’m certain Cody won’t either. But we can’t afford to not hear what he has to say if it means information on this case.”
“But how would Resputa know anything about our guy, Cap?” Frank asked.
“Resputa was caught in the same general area. Criminals often know of one another’s work.”
“I think he’s just seen Silence of the Lambs too many times,” Frank grumbled. His face shifted with renewed attention as the person he’d been dialing picked up. “Hello, yes. I need a uniform . . .”
“Why tonight, Cap?” Tom asked quietly. “Can’t this wait for tomorrow?”
“Resputa’s holding our time hostage. He wants Cody there before midnight. At midnight, his offer of information expires, and he won’t give it to us for any price.”
“You know he’ll try to negotiate a deal.”
“Cody won’t be authorized to give him any deals, unless it’s to convince the warden to supply Resputa with an extra roll of toilet paper each week.”
Tom smiled but without humor.
“Resputa came to us with this, Tom. He knows no one’s going to cut him any deals. That alone makes me wary. I know we’re busy here, but I think it’s dangerous not to know what he’s up to.”
Tom nodded. “I’ll call Cody.”
CHAPTER 27
Alex squealed with delight when her hand beat Cody’s for the fifth straight time. Cody laughed. She thought his smile was beautiful.
“You are way too good at this, Alex. Who taught you to play poker?”
“Ex-boyfriend. It’s how he made his living.”
“And you conveniently forgot to mention that?”
“Don’t worry. I’d never take your money. Just your candy.” She unwrapped a tootsie roll and popped it in her mouth. They’d found a stash of mixed candy in the pantry, divided it evenly, and used it to bet with.
“Maybe we should switch games.” Cody feigned worry with his eyebrows, though he was grinning broadly.
“Hmm,” she said, with mock seriousness. “Well there are the classics: Go Fish? Old Maid? Memory?”
Cody shook with quiet laughter but before he could answer, his cell phone buzzed.
“Maybe Frank finally got you a replacement.” Alex tried to sound more chipper than she felt at the prospect.
Cody answered his phone. “Hey Tom, you guys finally remember—”
His face froze, then slowly fell.
The area around Alex’s heart turned chill. Something was wrong.
Cody got to his feet and walked to the window, turning his back on her. Not wanting to look as though she was trying to eavesdrop, Alex picked up their soda cups and took them into the kitchen, but she could still hear his voice.
“Now? Tonight . . . are you sure?”
Alex turned on the faucet and rinsed the cups before placing them in the dishwasher. Before she finished, Cody came into the kitchen, looking more serious than he had all evening.
“Everything all right?”
He frowned. “I have to go talk to someone. Tom’s gonna come stay with you.”
Alex studied Cody. He was obviously distraught. She was curious, but she also knew that police business was none of hers. If she asked, he would be well within his rights to tell her to butt out.
“A lead in the case?” She clapped her hands together in mock joy. “Is it solved?”
He didn’t laugh as she’d hoped, but smiled a bit. “No. It’s a guy in the state pen. Says he might have some information for us. Captain wants me to go talk to him.”
“Any reason it has to be you in particular?”
“Yeah. He asked for me.”
Alex frowned. Someone in the state penitentiary asked for a particular detective? “Why?”
“He sort of knows me.”
“Did you help put him away or something?”
Cody stared at her levelly for a few seconds. “Yes.”
“Oh.”
After that, Cody clammed up, and the silence got awkward. Twenty minutes later, Tom’s unmarked car pulled into the driveway beside Cody’s.
“See you tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder as he headed out the door. He and Tom conversed in the driveway briefly before Cody got into his car, and Alex tried to read their expressions. Tom looked . . . was that sympathy? The lines around Cody’s eyes tightened as they spoke, and his lips pressed into a thin line. Then, looking supremely annoyed, he drove away.
Tom moseyed into the room. “Ms. Thompson.” He grinned at her.
“Alex, remember? So you stuck here all night with me?”
“Maybe. For a few hours, at least. Frank’s trying to track down a uniform, but it’s getting late and most of them have gone home. He may not be able to find one to assign to you until morning. We’ll see. But no worries. I called my wife. She’s cool with it.” He grinned again, and Alex returned it.
“She’s cool with you not coming home all night?”
“Told her I was protecting a beautiful woman half her age.”
“Tom! You should be nice to your wife.”
“Why?”
He was teasing her and she knew it, but she couldn’t help but return the banter. “Because she cooks your dinner.”
Tom laughed. “You have a point there.”
“Speaking of”—Alex glanced toward the kitchen—“have you eaten tonight?”
“Actually yes, but”—he followed her gaze—“whatcha got back there?”
Alex was glad he’d asked. In her experience, food often loosened a man’s tongue. “I’ll make you something.”
When he was digging into a plate of microwave pasta, she sat across from him and asked, “So, am I allowed to ask what’s going on, or not?”
“Going on with what?”
“Cody. Where’d he go?”
Tom studied his uneaten pasta for a full minute before answering.
“If it’s police business, you don’t have to tell me, Tom. I’m just wondering.” She secretly hoped he’d tell her anyway.
Tom shook his head, and she was sure he’d refuse to say anything. “It’s not police business. It’s a closed case, so it’s not illegal for me to tell you about it. It’s just that it’s something I think Cody should tell you about.” Tom heaved a great sigh. “But then I suppose he won’t do that. It’s not something he cares to talk about much.”
Alex leaned forward and rested her chin on her fists.
“All right. A few years ago, we had a really awful case. Actually, it was a federal case, made the news, so you might remember it. A pedophile went on a rampage. Guy by the name of Resputa started in Washington. He was driving south through all the states, snatching kids as he went.”
Alex swallowed. “And doing what to them?”
“All kinds of things. Molesting, assaulting, terrorizing.”
“But not killing them?”
“Not according to him. Most of them were picked up at truck stops, rest stops, or gas stations along the highway, exploited, then dropped off a few hundred miles away. We had to double our highway patrol presence because kids were being found wandering on random, desolate stretches of highway.”
“How awful. But you said most, not all?”
“Seven children who were snatched from similar locations while this was going on were not dropped off anywhere or ever found alive. The bodies of three of the seven were found sometime after we caught Resputa, and they were all buried not far off the highway. They’d been sexually exploited, in some cases tortured, and then killed.”
