The Last Move
“Jesus, Kate. You were just out running alone at night with this guy somewhere nearby.”
“I’ve dealt with men like him before. But with William lurking around, maybe you should talk Mom into seeing Aunt Lydia.”
His grip on the brim of his hat crunched the well-worn edge. “Mom won’t leave town until she sees you.”
“Talk to her. Convince her to leave.”
“Go see her.”
“I’m in the middle of an investigation.”
“I’ll try to talk to her, but go see her,” he said more softly. “She loves you.”
His words stung more than any insult. “I’ll talk to Mom.”
“What can I do?”
“I haven’t even proven it’s William,” she said. “There’re a dozen other reasons why Gloria could have been murdered.”
“You’re smart and you’ll figure it out. Dad said you have a gift. If there’s a pattern, you’ll see it.”
Fatigue was strengthening second doubts. She had to have more than a gut feeling about William. She needed facts. “Just keep an eye on Mom. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
He looked as if he wanted to say more but finally nodded. “You call me if you need anything.”
“Sure.”
“I meant it when I said I was sorry. I know I can be difficult. But we’re family.”
For Mitchell, this was a grand gesture. “Can I get the ‘I can be difficult’ on tape? Might be a good ringtone.”
His posture relaxed a fraction, but a smile was still too much to expect from either of them. “It’ll take a few beers before that happens.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.
“You take care of yourself, Katie.”
“You, too, Mitchell.”
Raymond Drexler hadn’t expected his life to turn to shit so fast. He still could not get over the fact that he had lost his sweet Sara thanks to the fucking cops and Kate Hayden. Nobody understood him.
He stopped in New Mexico and pulled into a truck stop. Keeping his head low, he bought a razor and scissors and went into the bathroom, where he showered and shaved his head and beard. After dressing, he put on an old ball cap he dug out of the lost-and-found bin. A few men passed by him, but he didn’t look up. He wasn’t the first man to shave and change his look in a place like this.
Tossing the razor and shaving cream back in his bag, he crossed the lot to his truck. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he skimmed his hand over his bald head. The new look would take getting used to. And without the beard, he wasn’t sure if he even liked his face without it. Shit, he felt naked.
Exhausted, he drove another hour south before fatigue forced him to pull over. He parked in the shadows of a deserted parking lot off one of the interstate ramps and slept for what he thought would be a quick catnap.
When he startled awake a glance at the clock told him he had slept ten hours. “Shiiit!”
For a few gut-wrenching seconds, he was convinced someone had spotted him and called the cops. He climbed out, took a quick piss, and started driving.
Up ahead, he spotted the “Welcome to Texas. Drive Friendly—the Texas Way” sign. Finally relaxing, he leaned back against the seat and rolled down the window as the truck crossed the state line. He enjoyed the warm air. He was tired of the snow and the frozen ground. The deep, soothing warmth of Texas appealed to him. He’d never buried anyone in the desert before.
He reached for a bag of half-eaten white powdered doughnuts and popped a whole one in his mouth. It was dry, but a swig of cold coffee washed it down just fine. The combination of sugar and caffeine hit the spot, giving him the boost he needed.
He pressed the accelerator and turned up the radio.
Eight more hours of driving and he’d be in San Antonio.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Knowledge is power. Always pays to be nice until nice no longer serves you.
San Antonio, Texas
Tuesday, November 28, 10:45 p.m.
After dropping Kate off at the car rental place, Mazur swung by his ex-wife’s house, hoping he had a little time with Alyssa before she went to bed at eleven. He strode up the front walk, noting the new BMW in the driveway. Sherry had always liked the finer things, and with this new job she was making serious bank.
Sherry had purchased a patio-style home in a community that took care of the lawn and common areas, provided a nice swimming pool and a fitness center, and hosted a bunch of fancy events ranging from wine tastings to concerts. When they’d married, they’d been so damn much in love. He’d have bet his right arm that they’d have made the long haul. But when he’d joined homicide the relationship frayed with every missed meal, late night, and missed birthday. Caleb’s birth hadn’t been planned, but he and Sherry had seen the boy as a second chance. For a few months, it looked like they’d turned a corner. And then he’d died. The grief shattered them both completely.
When Sherry asked for a divorce it hadn’t been unexpected, but it had been a kick in the balls. For a long time, he’d mourned the marriage, and he would always be sorry that they’d failed Alyssa.
He rang the bell. High heels clicked in the hallway, and the door snapped open. Sherry was dressed in a fitted skirt, white blouse, and heels that made her legs look great. She’d pulled her blond hair into a twist.
“Theo,” she said, smiling in a slightly uncomfortable way. “Alyssa told me you might be coming.”
“Sorry I didn’t call, Sherry. I only have a few minutes.”
Her smile didn’t waver, but the glint in her eyes turned brittle. “I understand. It’s not a problem. In fact, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Sure.”
“Dad!” Alyssa appeared at the end of hallway. She wore sweats, an oversize Chicago PD T-shirt, and socks.
“Hey, kiddo.” He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. Seemed every time he saw her she was a couple of inches taller.
“We just ordered pizza. Why don’t you join us?”
He glanced to Sherry, who smiled. “Absolutely. Join us. The three of us haven’t eaten together in ages.”
He followed them into a kitchen outfitted with white marble countertops, stainless-steel appliances, and a crystal chandelier. French doors led to an enclosed backyard and a night sky full of stars.
On the counter were two boxes of pizza. One was cheese for Alyssa and the other was pepperoni and sausage, which was his favorite. She must really have something important to say if she was trying to order his favorite.
Alyssa handed him a plate, and he dropped a couple of slices on it. “Eat up.”
Sherry moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a cold soda. She popped the top and set it in front of him. “I have beer, but you said you have to get back to work.”
“This is perfect.”
“Great.”
As Alyssa told him about her day, Sherry walked to a wet bar and filled a glass with ice and vodka. She took a sip and then another before joining them.
They made small talk for the better part of fifteen minutes. He had to give Sherry credit. She was trying, and she had never denied him any time with Alyssa, often working around his crazy schedule to make sure their daughter saw him.
When Alyssa’s phone buzzed she glanced at it. “I’ve got to take it. It’s about the math test.”
“Take it in your room,” Sherry said. “Dad and I’ll wait for you.”