The Last Move
Page 65
He’d not liked Mazur from the moment the cop had set foot on his property. He’d watched from a closed-circuit television as his housekeeper had sent them away. Even then, he’d considered the cop a trespasser.
Now the cop was more than an annoyance. He was a threat. A thief. An intruder who endangered seventeen years of planning.
“Steal from me, and I’ll take twofold from you, Detective Mazur.”
He reached for one of the cells he’d bought with cash from a box store. He dialed the one number he cared about now.
Drexler’s voice was groggy when he answered the phone. “What the fuck do you want?”
“How much have you had to drink?”
“I haven’t been drinking.”
“Don’t lie to me. I cannot save you if you lie.”
“A few. But I didn’t get drunk. Half the case you brought is still unopened.”
He still sounded as if he were drunk. “Make yourself coffee and take a hot shower. We have work to do.”
“What kind of work? You said to lay low. To stay out of sight.”
“I thought you wanted to build another box?”
He hesitated. “I do. But you said I had to wait.”
“Well, time’s up.”
He cleared his throat, and bed springs squeaked. “Why the hell should I trust you?”
“I’m feeding you. And if I’d wanted, I could have called the cops, but I haven’t. I’m the closest person you have to a best friend right now. If you want me to bail and drop a dime on you, say the word. Otherwise, stop acting like a little bitch.”
“Okay. Okay. I get it.”
“Goddamn right, you got it. Right now you need to shower, shave, and change into the clothes I left for you in the room.”
“And then we get to go hunting?”
“Oh yes.” William turned to a stack of photographs he’d taken of Isabella. He traced the line of her jaw in a picture he’d snapped while she was shopping at a local boutique. She was supposed to be next on his list. It was important to stick to the plan, but strategies sometimes required modifications.
He shifted to a computer screen and pulled up a picture he’d taken today. These pictures were of the lovely Alyssa. She was younger than he preferred, but he would make an exception.
He traced his thumb over the outline of her smiling lips. “You’re going to like this one, Mr. Drexler. She’s just your type.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
My must-do list: Gloria. Rebecca. Isabella.
San Antonio, Texas
Friday, December 1, 5:00 a.m.
Mazur woke to the still darkness. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at the clock and realized he’d slept a few hours. Though he couldn’t really afford the shut-eye, it would ensure his brain clicked on all cylinders for a couple more days. His hand slid to the other side of the bed. It was empty. Cold. Kate was gone.
He checked his phone. Three bars. Enough. And no calls from Alyssa. He never went to sleep without the phone by his bed in case she needed him.
Out of the bed, he switched on a light and went into the bathroom. Afterward he gathered his clothes and dressed. He clipped his gun, cuffs, and badge on his belt. A look back at the rumpled sheets coaxed a smile.
Tie dangling around his neck and his coat slung over his arm, he moved down the hallway and paused at a series of pictures that hung on the wall. He switched on the overhead light and studied the images, not the least bit concerned about sticking his nose into the life of a woman who didn’t want anyone poking around.
There were several family pictures. The first was Mom and Dad and toddler Mitchell. The next frame captured the addition of the second child. A chubby-faced little girl with curly blond hair and a gap-toothed smile.
There were more pictures of Mitchell, but his interest zeroed in on Kate’s life story. Moments captured during soccer, birthday parties, chess, and graduations showed the progression from a cute toddler to a gawky teenager and then to the serious FBI academy graduate.
Absently he rubbed his fingers together as he remembered the rough skin of the scar on her leg. It was a wonder the bullet hadn’t hit the femoral artery or the second shot hadn’t slammed into her brain. Jesus.
The scent of coffee drifted down the hallway, luring him from the pictures. In the kitchen, he found Kate fully dressed and sitting at the kitchen table. Beside her was an empty cup.
Scattered before her was a collection of files and crime-scene photos. She didn’t look up. “I made a fresh pot of coffee. Mugs in the cabinet above. Milk in the refrigerator.”
He made himself a cup and poured in a splash of milk. “If your mother left you fresh milk, my guess is there’s food.”
“Bagels in the bread box.”
He kissed her on top of the head. “And good morning to you.”
She looked up. “Good morning.”
As he moved to find the bagels, he asked, “Do you always wake up this productive?”
“Sometimes.” She ran her fingers through her tousled hair she’d yet to tie back. “When a case is bothering me.”
He pulled out two bagels. “You want yours toasted?”
“Yes.”
“So what has your mind buzzing today?”
“I would bet money Drexler’s headed to San Antonio to find me. I’m the one who found Sara and the other bodies. I’m the one who ruined his good time.”
“Are you that easy to find?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Or at least my mother’s home is easy to find.”
Mazur’s gaze roamed the kitchen. “And she’s in Dallas with Aunt Lydia, correct?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “With William and Drexler out there, she’s better off in Dallas.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“Of course it is. Given my work, I should have never come here.”
He reached for her mug, refilled it, and set it in front of her. “It’s a matter of time before Nevada catches him.”
“He’s completely shaved. His own mother wouldn’t recognize him.”
He moved to the toaster, set the bagels on a plate, and placed them in front of her. From the refrigerator he dug out butter, cream cheese, and strawberry jelly. “We eat first.”
“I can’t eat now.”
“Yes, you can. We have thirty minutes. Then we’ll head to the station. Eat.”
She looked toward him and then back at her computer.
“Is this the part where you get weird?” he challenged.
“I’m not being weird. I’m being normal. This is how I am all the time.”
“Which is a little weird, Kate. In a good way.”
The acceptance in her expression was almost sad. “It’s amusing to you now, but in the long run it’ll drive you crazy. I’m not an easy person.”
“Neither am I. And don’t you think we have to be a little odd to do what we do?” he asked. “But we found a few perks of the job last night.”
She grinned slightly. “I really enjoyed those perks last night.”
He raised his cup. “To more perks.”
The idea made her frown. “We can’t be lovers and work on this case.”
“Why not?”
“Because sex taints relationships.”
“Taints?”
She pressed her fingertips to her temple. “That’s not the right word.”
He shook his head. “Words are your specialty.”
Now the cop was more than an annoyance. He was a threat. A thief. An intruder who endangered seventeen years of planning.
“Steal from me, and I’ll take twofold from you, Detective Mazur.”
He reached for one of the cells he’d bought with cash from a box store. He dialed the one number he cared about now.
Drexler’s voice was groggy when he answered the phone. “What the fuck do you want?”
“How much have you had to drink?”
“I haven’t been drinking.”
“Don’t lie to me. I cannot save you if you lie.”
“A few. But I didn’t get drunk. Half the case you brought is still unopened.”
He still sounded as if he were drunk. “Make yourself coffee and take a hot shower. We have work to do.”
“What kind of work? You said to lay low. To stay out of sight.”
“I thought you wanted to build another box?”
He hesitated. “I do. But you said I had to wait.”
“Well, time’s up.”
He cleared his throat, and bed springs squeaked. “Why the hell should I trust you?”
“I’m feeding you. And if I’d wanted, I could have called the cops, but I haven’t. I’m the closest person you have to a best friend right now. If you want me to bail and drop a dime on you, say the word. Otherwise, stop acting like a little bitch.”
“Okay. Okay. I get it.”
“Goddamn right, you got it. Right now you need to shower, shave, and change into the clothes I left for you in the room.”
“And then we get to go hunting?”
“Oh yes.” William turned to a stack of photographs he’d taken of Isabella. He traced the line of her jaw in a picture he’d snapped while she was shopping at a local boutique. She was supposed to be next on his list. It was important to stick to the plan, but strategies sometimes required modifications.
He shifted to a computer screen and pulled up a picture he’d taken today. These pictures were of the lovely Alyssa. She was younger than he preferred, but he would make an exception.
He traced his thumb over the outline of her smiling lips. “You’re going to like this one, Mr. Drexler. She’s just your type.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
My must-do list: Gloria. Rebecca. Isabella.
San Antonio, Texas
Friday, December 1, 5:00 a.m.
Mazur woke to the still darkness. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at the clock and realized he’d slept a few hours. Though he couldn’t really afford the shut-eye, it would ensure his brain clicked on all cylinders for a couple more days. His hand slid to the other side of the bed. It was empty. Cold. Kate was gone.
He checked his phone. Three bars. Enough. And no calls from Alyssa. He never went to sleep without the phone by his bed in case she needed him.
Out of the bed, he switched on a light and went into the bathroom. Afterward he gathered his clothes and dressed. He clipped his gun, cuffs, and badge on his belt. A look back at the rumpled sheets coaxed a smile.
Tie dangling around his neck and his coat slung over his arm, he moved down the hallway and paused at a series of pictures that hung on the wall. He switched on the overhead light and studied the images, not the least bit concerned about sticking his nose into the life of a woman who didn’t want anyone poking around.
There were several family pictures. The first was Mom and Dad and toddler Mitchell. The next frame captured the addition of the second child. A chubby-faced little girl with curly blond hair and a gap-toothed smile.
There were more pictures of Mitchell, but his interest zeroed in on Kate’s life story. Moments captured during soccer, birthday parties, chess, and graduations showed the progression from a cute toddler to a gawky teenager and then to the serious FBI academy graduate.
Absently he rubbed his fingers together as he remembered the rough skin of the scar on her leg. It was a wonder the bullet hadn’t hit the femoral artery or the second shot hadn’t slammed into her brain. Jesus.
The scent of coffee drifted down the hallway, luring him from the pictures. In the kitchen, he found Kate fully dressed and sitting at the kitchen table. Beside her was an empty cup.
Scattered before her was a collection of files and crime-scene photos. She didn’t look up. “I made a fresh pot of coffee. Mugs in the cabinet above. Milk in the refrigerator.”
He made himself a cup and poured in a splash of milk. “If your mother left you fresh milk, my guess is there’s food.”
“Bagels in the bread box.”
He kissed her on top of the head. “And good morning to you.”
She looked up. “Good morning.”
As he moved to find the bagels, he asked, “Do you always wake up this productive?”
“Sometimes.” She ran her fingers through her tousled hair she’d yet to tie back. “When a case is bothering me.”
He pulled out two bagels. “You want yours toasted?”
“Yes.”
“So what has your mind buzzing today?”
“I would bet money Drexler’s headed to San Antonio to find me. I’m the one who found Sara and the other bodies. I’m the one who ruined his good time.”
“Are you that easy to find?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Or at least my mother’s home is easy to find.”
Mazur’s gaze roamed the kitchen. “And she’s in Dallas with Aunt Lydia, correct?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “With William and Drexler out there, she’s better off in Dallas.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“Of course it is. Given my work, I should have never come here.”
He reached for her mug, refilled it, and set it in front of her. “It’s a matter of time before Nevada catches him.”
“He’s completely shaved. His own mother wouldn’t recognize him.”
He moved to the toaster, set the bagels on a plate, and placed them in front of her. From the refrigerator he dug out butter, cream cheese, and strawberry jelly. “We eat first.”
“I can’t eat now.”
“Yes, you can. We have thirty minutes. Then we’ll head to the station. Eat.”
She looked toward him and then back at her computer.
“Is this the part where you get weird?” he challenged.
“I’m not being weird. I’m being normal. This is how I am all the time.”
“Which is a little weird, Kate. In a good way.”
The acceptance in her expression was almost sad. “It’s amusing to you now, but in the long run it’ll drive you crazy. I’m not an easy person.”
“Neither am I. And don’t you think we have to be a little odd to do what we do?” he asked. “But we found a few perks of the job last night.”
She grinned slightly. “I really enjoyed those perks last night.”
He raised his cup. “To more perks.”
The idea made her frown. “We can’t be lovers and work on this case.”
“Why not?”
“Because sex taints relationships.”
“Taints?”
She pressed her fingertips to her temple. “That’s not the right word.”
He shook his head. “Words are your specialty.”
