The Killing Game (27 page)

“That's what I've been telling you all along.”

“I was too scared for you to listen. Now I'm too scared not to listen. You're not going to stop, so I can't stop. We have to finish it. Turn on the phone.”

She took the phone and pressed the on button.

It was silent.

Joe smiled. “Now, how's that for anticlimax? I think we both expected an ominous clash of cymbals.” He gently pushed her toward the door. “Come on, let's get this show on the road.”

Spiro was waiting in the living room when they came downstairs. “Where's the doll?”

“I put it in a box and slid it behind some books on a shelf.” Joe crossed the room to the built-in bookcases. “I didn't want Jane to run across it.”

“I can't see her flinching,” Spiro said dryly. “Your Jane let me in when I rang the doorbell and she gave me the third degree. She even called security to make sure I hadn't leaped over the electric fence.”

“Where is she?”

“After grudgingly allowing me to sit down, she said she was going to the kitchen to fix you something to eat.” He took the box and glanced at the doll. “Ugly. It must have scared you.”

“No. It made me mad.”

“Did he make a follow-up call?”

“Yes, I hung up on him.”

Spiro looked up. “That might not have been smart.”

“I'm tired of being smart and cautious. What about the photograph? Can I see it?”

“Not before it's logged in.”

“Can I get a duplicate?”

“Not before it's logged in.”

Eve had very little patience left. “What about this Kevin Baldridge?”

Spiro smiled. “According to Charlie, Mrs. Harding remembers Kevin Baldridge and his brothers very well. Kevin was closemouthed about where they were from, but one of his brothers mentioned Dillard.”

“Where is that?”

“A small town in northern Arizona.”

“Small enough to trace Kevin Baldridge?”

“Maybe. We have to hope the townsfolk have long memories.”

“What about his brothers? Even if Kevin Baldridge has moved on, perhaps they might have gone back home.”

“It's possible.” Spiro stood up. “We'll soon find out. Charlie will call and check on birth and school records after he gets back with the photograph. And I'm heading up to Dillard today.”

“Could we come along?”

He shrugged. “I suppose it wouldn't hurt. And if Dom is Kevin Baldridge, seeing you invade his turf might trigger him to act.” He glanced at Joe. “I'm surprised that didn't arouse a reaction from you. No objections? No accusations that I'm using her?”

Joe ignored the mockery in Spiro's voice. “How soon can we leave?”

“Later this afternoon. I have to go back to the precinct, wait for Charlie, and make sure the photograph is logged in.” He paused. “Mark Grunard came to see me at my hotel this morning. He said you were still cooperating with him.” His lips tightened. “I told him that doesn't mean
I'm
cooperating. I've never approved of your involving him.”

“He helped me,” Eve said. “I owe him.”

“I don't owe him and I don't like how he's been hanging around Charlie.”

“He could have turned Jane and me in to the police a dozen times and he didn't do it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I promised him an exclusive when we get Dom.”

“Indeed?” He moved toward the door. “Whatever your deal with him, we're not bringing him along to Dillard.”

“I fixed you an egg and bacon sandwich, Eve.” Jane stood in the doorway. “Come on.”

“I'll be right there.”

Jane gave Spiro a cool glance. “He can talk to you while you're eating. Your food will get cold.”

“Heaven forbid I interfere with your nourishment.” Spiro mockingly bowed to Jane. “You'll be relieved to know I was just on my way out, young lady.”

“Wait.”

Spiro glanced back at Eve.

“How long will we be gone?”

“A few hours, a day. It depends on how much advance work Charlie is able to do.”

“We're taking Jane with us.”

Spiro shook his head. “For God's sake, I'm already sticking my neck out enough without being seen with a kidnap victim.”

“She has to go with us.”

“She's very well protected here.”

“I wouldn't mind going without her if it's only for an hour or so. But you're not sure when we'll be back.”

“Is taking her with us wise?”

“Dom wants her with me.”

Spiro glanced from her to Jane. “But do you want him to see you with her? You're obviously on close terms.”

“If Eve wants me, I'm going with her.” Jane took a step closer. “And I wasn't kidnapped. How stupid can you get?”

“Evidently very stupid,” Spiro said. “I don't recommend it, Eve.”

“I'll take care of Eve and Jane,” Joe said. “You handle tracking down Kevin Baldridge.”

Spiro shook his head. “It's a mistake.” He opened the door. “I'll pick you up at four this afternoon.”

Was it a mistake? Eve wondered. She didn't want Dom to see her and Jane together, but what could she do? Jane was her responsibility. She couldn't leave her for hours or maybe days; she would never forgive herself if anything happened to Jane. She'd been down that road before.

She turned to Joe. “I have to take her.”

“I know.” Joe smiled.

“Of course I'm going,” Jane said. “We're not going to let him tell us what to do. Now, come on and eat your breakfast.” She started down the hall. “And then you can tell me
where
I'm going.”

C                  H                  A                  P                  T                  E                  R

FIFTEEN

The small plane landed at a tiny airport north of Dillard, Arizona, at eight-thirty that night. There had been a recent snow in the mountain town, and the weather was icy. The airport had only two runways and the tarmac was bumpy. One taxi was parked outside the terminal.

Spiro got a call from Charlie in the taxi on the way to town. He didn't look pleased by the time he hung up.

“The courthouse burned down six years ago,” Spiro said. “And there were no records of any Baldridge children attending the local school.”

“Maybe they went to school in a nearby town.”

“We're checking Jamison. It's thirty miles from here.” He looked out the window. “But the schools will be closed until tomorrow morning. We'll have to stay overnight at a hotel . . . except Charlie said there isn't one. I think Dillard's population is only a little over four thousand.”

“Six thousand five hundred,” the cabdriver said.

Spiro reached into his pocket and drew out his notebook. “Charlie mentioned a bed and breakfast. Mrs. Tolvey's on Pine Street.”

“Good choice,” the cabdriver said. “Mrs. Tolvey puts on a great breakfast spread.”

“Then that will be fine”—Eve looked at the driver's ID on the panel—“Mr. Brendle.” She put her arm around Jane, who was leaning against her. “Anyplace with a bed.”

“Bob. Good beds too. Mrs. Tolvey's been running the place for over twenty years, and she changes all the mattresses every five years.”

“Incredible,” Spiro said.

“Well, they don't get used that often.”

“Twenty years,” Joe repeated, looking at Spiro. “My, what a coincidence.”

“Charlie's a good man. It's a long shot, but still we may find out something from Mrs. Tolvey.”

“Will she have enough rooms for us?” Joe asked the cabdriver.

“Six rooms. All clean as a whistle.” He nodded. “It's right up ahead. Two blocks.”

The bed and breakfast was a large gray house with a wooden swing on the wide front porch. A light gleamed beside the storm door.

“You go on and knock.” Bob got out of the car. “I'll get your bags.”

“Wait,” Spiro said. “Do you have a bar in this town?”

“You've got to be kidding. Four.” Bob pulled the overnight cases out of the trunk. “You want to go get a drink first?”

“Is there one where all the regulars go?”

“Cal Simm's place on Third Street.”

“Take me there.” He turned to Eve. “I want to see if I can find out anything before tomorrow. Check me in and tell Mrs. Tolvey I'll be along in a few hours.”

Eve nodded. To Joe, Spiro said, “You'll talk to Mrs. Tolvey?”

“You'd better believe it.”

The taxi was pulling away when Mrs. Tolvey opened the front door. Dressed in a pale green chenille robe, she was in her late fifties with short, curly brown hair and a wide smile.

“I saw Bob drop you off. I'm Nancy Tolvey. Need a room?”

“Three.” Joe picked up the bags and entered the foyer. “A twin for Ms. Duncan and the little girl, a single next door for me. We have a friend who will be back a little later. We'll check him in too.”

“Fine. But we don't have any twins. A queen okay?”

Eve nodded.

“Suppose you show Eve and Jane upstairs and I'll stay down here to sign us in,” Joe said.

Eve picked up her and Jane's bags, and Nancy Tolvey led the way.

The room she showed Eve was clean and bright with pale green ivy twining on cream-colored wallpaper. “No private bathroom. It's down the hall.”

“You heard her, Jane,” Eve said. “You shower first. I'll bring your pajamas to you as soon as I unpack them.”

“Okay.” Jane yawned. “I don't know why I'm so sleepy.”

“The altitude,” Nancy Tolvey said. “You must not be from around here.”

“We came from Phoenix.”

She nodded. “I visited there once. Too hot. I couldn't ever get used to that kind of climate after living here all my life.”

All her life . . .

Joe had told Spiro he'd talk to Nancy Tolvey, but Eve might as well do it herself. “We're trying to locate a family who may have lived here a long time ago. The Baldridges?”

“Baldridges?” Nancy Tolvey was silent a moment and then shook her head. “I don't think so. I don't recall anyone by that name living here.” She headed for the stairs. “I'll bring you up some more bath towels.”

It had been worth a try, Eve thought. Maybe they'd find out something tomorrow.

NANCY TOLVEY WAS
frowning as she came down the stairs.

“Something wrong?” Joe asked.

She sat down at the old-fashioned writing desk in the foyer. “It's nothing.” She opened the guest book. “Sign here, please. Name, address, driver's license.” She was still frowning as she watched him register. “You'll share the bath with your friends. We don't have—” She closed her eyes. “The candles . . .”

“I hoped you had electricity,” Joe said dryly.

Her lids flicked open. “No, that's not what I meant. Miss Duncan asked me about the Baldridge family, and I told her I couldn't remember anyone around here by that name.”

Joe stiffened. “But you do?”

“I didn't want to talk about it, but, yes, I remember.” She smiled bitterly. “There's no way I could forget. And not talking about it isn't going to make it go away, is it? I've done that for years.”

“The Baldridges lived here in town?”

She shook her head. “It was up north of Dillard.”

“Near Jamison?”

“No, the tent was up farther in the mountains.”

“Tent?”

“Old man Baldridge was an evangelist. A real fire-and-brimstone preacher. He had a big tent on this plateau in the middle of the mountains, where he gave his sermons.” She made a face. “When I was in my teens, I slept around a little. Well, maybe a lot. My daddy thought I needed my soul saved. When he heard about Reverend Baldridge's tent show, he drove me up there one night. And believe me, it was quite a show. The reverend scared the daylights out of me.”

“Why?”

“He looked like death warmed over. White face, dirty gray hair, and his eyes . . .”

“How old was he?”

“Sixty, maybe. He looked real old to me. I was only fifteen.”

Then the evangelist couldn't have been Dom, Joe thought.

“He shouted at me,” Nancy Tolvey continued. “He stood up there, waving that red candle, telling me what a whore I was.”

“Red candle?”

“The whole tent was full of candles. No electricity. Just big iron candelabras filled with candles. We all got a candle when we came in. Children got white ones. The rest of us got red or pink.” She shook her head. “I never forgave my daddy for taking me there and letting Baldridge drag me up to the altar and tell everyone what a sinner I was.”

“I can see why it's impossible to forget.”

“I remember crying and jerking away from him. I ran out of the tent and down the hill to our car. My father came after me and tried to make me go back, but I wouldn't go. He finally took me home. I got married and moved out six weeks later.”

“Who else was in the tent that night?”

“There were so many people there. Why are you looking for him? Is he any relation?”

“No. Actually, we're looking for his family.”

She shook her head. “I don't know about that. You'll have to ask someone else.”

“Can you point me to anyone who might remember anything about the reverend?”

“Daddy heard about him through the Bloom Street Baptist Church. A lot of the members were driving up to the revival on weekends. Someone there might know something.” She smiled crookedly. “That was the church where I was baptized, but I never went back. I was too afraid someone had been there when that old devil screamed out what a sinner I was.”

“You never heard about the reverend again?”

“You think I'd want to hear or think about him again? I wasn't a bad kid. What's sex anyway? He shouldn't have done that to me.” She drew a deep breath. “I'm getting all upset over nothing. It was so long ago. I've lived a happy life since then. Funny how the things that happen to you as a kid leave the deepest scars, isn't it?”

“Maybe not so funny.”

She stood up. “I was going to bring up more towels. You're in the room at the top of the stairs, next to Miss Duncan and the kid.”

Joe watched her walk down the hall. He had struck pay dirt.

“
AN EVANGELIST,
”
EVE
repeated. “Dom's father?”

Joe shrugged. “Or grandfather. She said he was nearly sixty.”

“Everyone over thirty looks decrepit to a fifteen-year-old.”

“True.”

“Candles had some sort of significance for the preacher. His flock's state of grace?”

“More likely degree of sin.”

“And Dom carries on the judgment?” She shook her head. “He's very smart. He knows why he's killing. He likes it.”

“But, as Nancy Tolvey says, things that happen in your childhood scar and stay with you.”

“So what happened to him that could have turned him into a mass murderer?”

Joe shrugged. “Who knows? We'll go to the Baptist church tomorrow and see if we can find out anything else.”

“Could Dom's father still be alive?”

“Possibly. He'd be pretty old.” He bent his head and brushed a kiss on her nose. “Go to sleep. I'll wait up for Spiro and tell him what we've learned.”

“It's more than I expected.” Excitement tingled through her. They were getting close. Dom was no longer a complete enigma. “And tomorrow we'll know more.”

“Don't get your hopes up.”

“Don't be silly. Of course I'll get my hopes up.”

Joe smiled. “I shouldn't complain. Hope's very healthy for you.”

“Stop sounding as if I'm a nutcase and you're my psychoanalyst.”

“Sorry. I've become accustomed to analyzing every move you make. It comes of standing wistfully on the sidelines.”

“
Wistful
isn't in your vocabulary.” She hurriedly looked away from him. “Jane's in bed. Will you keep an eye on her while I shower?”

“I won't take a step away from your door.”

She could feel his gaze on her as she walked down the hall, feeling weak-kneed. Since the trip had begun, Joe had fallen back into the role of old friend. He hadn't said anything too personal until just then, and his words brought the memory of the previous night rushing back to her.

It was very unsettling to realize her feelings for Joe could almost overwhelm her eagerness at what they'd learned about Dom.

JOE WAS WAITING
when Eve and Jane came down the stairs the next morning. “I'm afraid we'll have to skip Mrs. Tolvey's breakfast. I have a taxi outside. Spiro's waiting for us.”

“He's not here?”

“No, he called me about three in the morning. At the bar he got a lead on Reverend Baldridge, and he's been up all night.”

“Did you tell him we should go to the Baptist church?”

Joe nodded. “He said it's not necessary. After he found out about the tent revival, he tracked down Reverend Piper, who's the pastor of the Bloom Street church, and woke him up.” Joe shrugged as she stared at him in surprise. “Nobody said Spiro isn't ruthless when he's on the trail.”

“He found out something?”

“He found the place where the reverend gave his sermons. It's a fairly long drive. We're going to meet Spiro there.”

SPIRO WAS STANDING
alone on top of a hill. Patches of snow dotted the ground and gray clouds hovered over the mountains in the distance.

The driver parked at the bottom of the hill.

“Pay off the taxi, Joe,” Spiro called out. “I'll drive you back. I commandeered Reverend Piper's car.” Spiro smiled sardonically as he nodded at the brown Ford parked some distance away. “There are times when being FBI comes in handy.”

Jane ran up the hill and looked around. The ground was utterly barren; tatters of seared cloth clung to the numerous blackened stakes driven into the earth. “A fire?”

“Yes,” Spiro answered.

Eve felt suddenly cold. “What happened here?”

“Do you want to send the child to the car?” Spiro asked.

Jane was wandering slowly some distance away.

“No, I won't shut her out. She deserves to know everything we know.”

“And what do we know?” Joe had joined them. “When did this happen?”

“Twenty-nine years ago.”

“An accident?”

“It was presumed to be an accident. Everyone knew about all the candles. The tent was a fire waiting to happen.”

“Any fatalities?”

“No bodies were found. Services were held here every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The fire must have happened earlier in the week, because the site was found exactly like this when the first carload of people came that weekend.”

“Was there an investigation?”

“Of course. But no one could find Reverend Baldridge. It was decided that he had moved on. Evangelists are usually traveling men, and he wasn't very popular with the authorities anyway. He'd been warned about the candles being a fire hazard.”

“
Did
he move on?”

“We'll have to find out, won't we?” Spiro glanced around. “Christ, this place is weird.”

Eve felt the same way. “If the fire happened that long ago, why hasn't the grass grown back?”

“What else did you find out?” Joe asked. “What about his family? What did Reverend Piper tell you about Kevin Baldridge?”

“He doesn't remember a Kevin. His father was the pastor of the Bloom Street Baptist Church when Reverend Baldridge was preaching here. He was only a boy when his father brought him up here for services. He met Mrs. Baldridge once, but the only sons he recalls are Ezekiel and Jacob. He never met Kevin.”

“But we know there's a Kevin. Mrs. Harding met him.”

“If he was here, he was kept out of sight.” Spiro shook his head. “Though why is a mystery. It seems old Baldridge kept everyone in the family busy at the services, handing out candles, passing the collection plates . . .”

“I don't like it here.” Jane was standing beside Eve. “When can we go?”