Finally, last night he had done a walk-through although he hadn’t gone inside the apartment building. Aware that he might be watched, he’d left his car parked and had walked in the darkness to a rental car. It had been raining lightly, but he didn’t mind getting a little wet. There was no such thing as being too careful, not when he was this close. He was ready.
His eyes drifted over Dillon’s seductive body. She was excellent bait. He looked again at his enemy’s face and smiled. He couldn’t wait to see the man’s expression when he saw what was going to happen to his new love.
After a few minutes, he laid the picture down and sat up on the edge of the bed. He was wasting time. After all, there was no need to look at pictures now. By the end of the day, he’d be looking at the real thing. He needed to practice the phone calls, so that his voice wouldn’t reflect his anxiety. In a way, the calls were the most important part of his plan, for without them, he could go no further.
Seven hours later, he stood on a side street opposite the police station. He knew she was still inside. He’d called earlier and asked for her, quickly hanging up when he heard her voice on the other end of the line. Hearing her had given him a thrill that he found hard to describe, and he knew that doing her would be almost as pleasurable as doing Anderson.
He looked at his watch and saw that the hands had not moved since the last time he’d looked. He swore softly. He had to calm down. It would be a while yet. If he kept this up, he would become unduly anxious, and that could lead to mistakes.
He caressed the watch. Father had given it to him shortly before he was captured. There was an engraving on the back. To Artie from Father was all it said. Just that, a straightforward message, no love or good wishes, just that. He treasured the watch, never missing a day of wearing it. It was an accurate timepiece, too, and it was only fitting that he wear it today when time was of the utmost importance. It was almost as if Father were here with him, directing him in the hunt of this most dangerous game. The watch was his good luck piece, his talisman, and he read its face hungrily, urging it to move its hands, to hurry up the time, before he went mad with the waiting.
CHAPTER 49
Jen looked up as the door to Lonnie’s office opened. Will stuck his head in and motioned to her. He had been called out of the interview a few minutes earlier to take a phone call, and one look at his pale, drawn face told her the call had not been good news.
“Excuse me a moment,” she said to Carla Edwards’s mother.
The woman nodded.
“What’s wrong?” she said, as soon as the door closed behind her.
“I just got a call from Riley Hospital in Indianapolis,” Will said. “It’s my little girl. The youngest, Christina. She’s been hit by a car.”
“Oh, no! How bad?”
“The nurse who called said at least a broken leg. He said they’re still doing tests and x-rays. I’ve got to go on over there. Can you get a cruiser to run you home?”
“Of course I can. Don’t worry about it. Did you talk to Gloria?”
“According to the nurse, she’s there but asked him to call me so she could stay with Christina.” He leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. “I’ll call you and let you know what’s happening.”
Jen watched as he hurried out the door. Saturday, at their picnic, the chubby-cheeked six-year-old with the coal black hair and the big blue eyes had made a good start at worming her way into Jen’s affections. Now Jen said a silent prayer that the little girl would be okay, and they would have a chance to build on that beginning.
***
Brandon answered the phone in his hands on the second ring.
HO, he texted Matt to hang on, fone call.
“Hello?” he said.
“Is this Brandon Dillon?” a slightly familiar male voice asked.
“Uh-huh,” he said. “Who’s this?”
“This is Officer Hensley down at the police department. Your mother asked me to give you a call.”
“Mom did?” Brandon was puzzled. His mother usually made her own calls to check on him or called Ada. Suddenly a frightening thought occurred to him. “Is something wrong?”
“Oh, no.” The officer on the other end of the line laughed. “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. No, your mom asked me to call you because she’s short on time. She wants you to meet her and Special Agent Anderson at the Oxbow. Do you know where it is?”
“Sure, I know where it is.” Brandon had eaten there with his mother on several occasions, usually special ones like Easter. “She wants me to meet her there?”
“That’s what she said. She said to use the money from your bank—said she’d pay you back—and call a taxi when you’re ready. Let me give you the number. She said she or Agent Anderson would call the taxi company and let them know it was okay to take you.”
Brandon smiled as he jotted the number down.
“The reservations are in Agent Anderson’s name. She
