A Perfect Grave Part 44

"The kid's eyes were wide and he was searching mine. His jaw started to move and he made these soft breathing sounds as the sirens got louder and I held him. He was warm but so still. I held him until everything drained from him and the paramedics came and I'm on the ground holding him and his warm blood is all over me and Vern is shouting and the paramedics are shouting and the sirens, the d.a.m.n sirens, are wailing and somebody started screaming.

"The boy's mother, who got separated from him in the department store, is shrieking and punching me. Later they told me that I wouldn't give the kid up, that I wouldn't let him go, and it was true because I knew that if I held on to him then he wouldn't leave this earth, he'd still be alive to grow up and live a good life and I wouldn't have to spend the rest of mine knowing that I'd killed him."

His old man swallowed.

"I still see his face. I've always seen his face because I've never been able to forgive myself."

Jason turned away as his father exhaled slowly.

A few miles later, they saw a sign pointing the way to Wolf Tooth Creek, and they turned off 706 and into the backcountry.

"What happened afterward, Dad?"

"Vern swore I missed and that Sperbeck had actually fired at the same time. That Sperbeck killed the kid while trying to shoot me. The court gave weight to Vern's statement."

"What about the autopsy, ballistics, witnesses?"

"The few witnesses gave conflicting accounts. Ballistics was inconclusive. Sperbeck had just come from around the corner where he was involved in the shootout that injured the armored-car guards."

"And the autopsy?"

"It said the boy died from a single gunshot. The bullet tore clear through him but the medical examiner couldn't conclude, beyond doubt, the direction, because the child actually had been turning and spun when he was struck, it had entered his side."

"Did they recover the bullet?"

"No, but the ME said the caliber was similar to what was issued to us at the time and Sperbeck was using the same type of weapon."

"Sperbeck could've walked on the boy."

"No. While the judge said it was inconclusive as to who shot the boy, he said Sperbeck's crime contributed to the child's death. And we had Sperbeck on everything else, although his lawyer implied that police were covering up a botched investigation. There was no jury trial. Sperbeck admitted guilt to everything but killing the child. It was understandable because he could've faced the death penalty. In the end, the judge gave him twenty-five years."

"Dad, I don't know what to say."

"There's nothing to say. I need to find Sperbeck. I've been tormented by that day for too long. I think I'm owed the truth. We're going to stop up ahead."

Jason's dad stopped his pickup at the pumps of Wolf Tooth Gas and Grocery. The station was a log cabin, built of hand-hewn cedar logs with cedar s.h.i.+ngles. It had a snack counter, gift shop, and small two-bay garage.

While his dad started filling the truck, Jason got out and gazed toward the mountain.

After all these years, his father had at last told him about his past.

It was good that he did it, but man...

The boy, then his partner.

And now Sperbeck.

Jason thought his old man's pathological pursuit of Sperbeck could end up doing him more harm than good. Maybe he should try to convince him to turn around, go home, and take things one step at a time. Maybe see a shrink again.

"Want anything from the store, Dad?"

"No, I'll meet you there. I want to check the oil."

Walking toward the store, Jason felt his cell phone in his pocket and decided to check for messages. Aside from his dad's bombsh.e.l.l, he was uneasy that he'd been out of touch this morning. Surprisingly, it indicated a strong signal.

What was this?

Six missed calls from this morning. Two from Eldon Reep, one from Ca.s.sie Appleton, and three from Grace Garner.

What the h.e.l.l happened? He must've lost his signal somewhere along the way. d.a.m.n it. As he entered the store, Jason called Garner.

"Homicide. Garner."

"Grace, it's Wade. What's up?"

"Where the h.e.l.l are you?"

Chapter Sixty-Four.

"We've got a child abduction tied to the nun's murder!" Grace Garner said.

"Jesus!"

Jason drew stares from the counter from an unshaven barrel-chested man in a lumberjack's s.h.i.+rt reading a paper behind the register. Beside the man, a girl, who looked about twelve, turned from watching the TV on the shelf, near the mounted head of a Rocky Mountain Elk with a twelve-point rack.

"Jason, the kidnapping suspect may have a link to your father," Grace said.

"What?" Keeping his voice low, he went deeper into the store, behind shelves with canned beans, soup, chili. "My father? How?"

"From your dad's time as a cop. He responded to an armored-car heist. A child died in a hostage taking. Three point three million was never recov-"

"Oh my G.o.d."

"We're looking for Leon Dean Sperbeck, who did twenty-five years"-Jason saw his dad paying the lumberjack guy at the cash-"We believe Sperbeck's responsible for Sister Anne's death. I'm going out on a limb telling you, but we're facing a life-and-death situation. The abduction could all be tied to the money from the old heist, your information, Sister Anne, and your dad."

"What the h.e.l.l? I don't believe this."

"After Sperbeck was released, he staged his death and now he's looking for the money. An insurance investigator reviewing the case has implicated your father, alleging a cover-up of the facts of the crime to hide the cash. He says he's got evidence your father's recently been in contact with Sperbeck-Jason-?"

As Grace continued, the pieces began aligning.

Except one didn't fit. Christ, it couldn't fit.

"-has implicated your father, alleging a cover-up to hide the cash-"

At the counter, his old man was showing Sperbeck's photo to the lumberjack man and the girl.

Cripes! The man and the girl started nodding. The man and the girl started nodding.

"-Jason, where's your father? We need to talk to him."

"Grace, we might know where Sperbeck is."

"Where? He's threatening to kill that little boy. Tell me, where you are!"

"Wolf Tooth Creek at a gas station off 706. I think he's driving a 95 Chrysler Concorde. Blue."

"That's right! Do you see him?"

"No. I've got to go."

"Wait! Jason!"

"That's him," the girl pointed to the TV. "The man in your picture was here!"

The show had been interrupted with a burst-tone alert, three shrill beeps, then the message, followed by pictures of Brady Boland, aged twelve, and Leon Dean Sperbeck, wanted for two homicides. More information about Brady's need of medication and Sperbeck's car crawled across the bottom of the screen.

"That's him. I swear!" Lumberjack man said. "They left not two minutes before you. Sat here for the longest time waiting on a fan belt from McKenna. Todd told him it wouldn't hold. That he'd have to creep along because his Chrysler's in sorry shape."

"Did you see a boy with him?"

"No, but he had a lot of junk heaped in the back. Kid could've been in there sleeping."

"Which way did he go?" Jason's dad asked.

"Same way you was headed. To the cabins. Turn left after the bridge and go ten miles down Cougar Ridge, the old dirt logging road." Lumberjack man reached for his phone. "I'm calling Pierce County Sheriff's deputies. There must be a reward."

Trees blurred by Jason and his dad as the needle on the Ford Ranger pickup reached ninety-five on the speedometer. Stones popcorned under the truck as it chewed up Cougar Ridge, leaving dust clouds in its wake.

"What did you find out on your call, son?"

Jason was driving and shot his old man a glance.

"Grace Garner says the insurance investigator suspects that you were actually involved in the robbery; that there was some kind of cover-up linked to the money."

His father stared straight ahead. In the distance he saw a fading dust curtain.

"We're gaining on him. Push it harder. She'll take it."

"d.a.m.n it, Dad! What really happened that day?"

"Quinn's a smart-a.s.s punk who doesn't know s.h.i.+t!"

"Did a cop kill that boy? Did Vern? Was there some sort of cover-up? Does Sperbeck know the truth?"

"Christ, look at my f.u.c.king life! Look at what happened to me, Jason!"

They both caught the chrome glint of a rear b.u.mper half-concealed like a phantom in the dust ahead. The vehicle was dark blue.

"Hang on!"

Jason accelerated, the Ford roared along the narrow route, bobbing on its sudden hills and valleys, sunlight flas.h.i.+ng through the thick woods, branches slapping the body as stones boiled against its undercarriage. Jason's ears pounded with each curve as they gained on the car.

"It's him!" his old man said. "It's a Chrylser Concorde."

They saw Sperbeck behind the wheel, then Jason's skin p.r.i.c.kled when a small head surfaced from the backseat. They were suddenly looking into the frightened face of Brady Boland.

Henry Wade sucked in a deep breath before sliding a full magazine into his Glock.

"Jesus!" Jason said.

In the Concorde, Sperbeck shook his head and continued ranting about his twenty-five hard years of regret.

"-Hey pup, your old man was a first-cla.s.s fool to bring his girlfriend in on the job. She was never right for it. I told him, but he wouldn't listen. She f.u.c.ked us good. It was not supposed to happen the way it did. Then the b.i.t.c.h wants me to 'see the light' after she tries to buy her way to heaven with my f.u.c.king money! b.i.t.c.h. I sent her to h.e.l.l where she belongs."

Sperbeck snorted and spit out the window.

"You better hope your mom's smarter than that dead b.i.t.c.h cause I got a special place picked out for you. Your mom ain't ever going to see you again if she doesn't find where your daddy hid my money!"

Sperbeck turned his head to glance at Brady and met a ghost.

Henry Wade glared at him from two car lengths back-pointing at him to pull over.

"What the-! G.o.dd.a.m.nit!" Sperbeck slammed his fists against the steering wheel. "G.o.d-f.u.c.king-d.a.m.nit!"

Sperbeck smashed his foot on the gas pedal and the Chrylser rocketed ahead. The pickup was in better shape and stayed close, ahead of the dust the car was kicking up. The Concorde grabbed air over the next rise, coming down hard and heavy, sc.r.a.ping the oil pan, sliding and grinding on loose gravel.

"s.h.i.+t!"

A bang sounded under the hood as the fan belt snapped. The steering wheel shuffled through Sperbeck's hands and he struggled in vain for control before the Concorde slid down an embankment, rolling over small trees in a storm of stones, dust, and crumpling metal.

It came to rest on its side against a stand of cedar and pine.

Brady had a small cut on his head but was okay, cus.h.i.+oned by the sleeping bags and clutter in the back. Crawling out of the wreck, he saw a pair of shoes, then Sperbeck seized his arm, hoisted him to his feet, pulling him as they ran, cras.h.i.+ng against branches and trees.