Rage Against the Dying

Forty-six





You have to get your priorities straight. What they boiled down to at this point was Coleman’s survival weighed against my liberty. Top priority was finding Coleman. The way I saw it I only had one option to get Max to believe me and help me. The odds were against it, but I had to try.

I drove to Sabino Canyon Park in the northeast part of the city. You can park your car and take a tram that goes about three miles in and up. It’s beautiful: canyon walls on both sides and actual running water. At this time of year, during the monsoons, the water flowed right over the tramway in places where the road crossed the stream. I paid my ten bucks, got on the tram, and rode it up to the ninth stop, the last. There weren’t a lot of other people on the tram, the day being hot as hell.

I fished around in my tote for the cell phone—not mine, the one I had taken from Peasil’s place. I got off the tram and sat on a low wall that overlooked a canyon and a cliff beyond it.

When Max picked up, I said, “This is an anonymous tip.”

“I recognize your voice, Brigid.”

“I know, I’m fresh out of clever. Is Floyd Lynch dead?”

“Yes. I was called to the scene because I originally brought him in.”

“He was murdered,” I said.

“I know. The guard described his mother. I knew it was you.”

“It wasn’t me, Max.”

“I’ve got you on motive: revenge. Opportunity: you were in the room when he died. So what was the means?”

“I didn’t kill him, Max. Tell Manriquez to have a tox test done on the contents of his IV bag. Some sort of opiate. He was poisoned by the Route 66 killer.”

“So you’re saying the means was poison.”

“Goddamn it, Max, listen to me. The real killer’s gotten desperate, I think. Somehow he found out that Coleman and I were investigating the possibility that Floyd Lynch had made a false confession. We’ve been getting too close.” I quickly described how I knew, the nurse going in with a full bag, coming out with one half-empty. How Lynch complained about a burning sensation in his hand where the needle went into the vein. How Lynch appeared to be under the influence of a heavy narcotic just before he stopped breathing. How it had to be something slow acting so the murderer could get well away from the hospital before anyone noticed. I wondered if Max had started to have my call traced yet.

Max said, “No one reported seeing a nurse go into the room. Not even the guard.”

“If they did, they’ll deny it. Covering their asses, Max. The guard’s green and scared of losing his job. But that’s not the important thing. Lynch confessed to me, Max. A real confession this time. He didn’t commit the Route 66 murders but he was in contact with the guy who did them. And the more time goes by, the more I’m convinced the real killer has Agent Laura Coleman.”

“And I should believe you why?”

I sucked in a deep breath, knowing I was playing my last card. “Because I’m telling you I killed Gerald Peasil.”

He was silent. I knew I had very little time until the trace pinpointed my location. He said, “Why?”

“You were right. He attacked me in the wash. I let him take me into his van so I could find out how many women he might have raped and killed. The kind of thing it would take you days of interrogation to find out, if ever. We fought, and I accidentally killed him. Then I discovered he wasn’t just a serial killer. He was specifically sent to assassinate me.”

“And why are you telling me this now?”

“You’re not paying attention. It’s Coleman. Too many hours have gone by since anyone has seen Coleman. I don’t know how else to convince you of how serious this is except to tell you the truth about Peasil.”

“You’ll tell us what you know. We’ll start a search.”

“Right. First you’ll have to explain everything to your boss and spend about ten hours interrogating me and if my instincts are right we don’t have time for that. Start the search now. I’ll work it from my end. And I’ll turn myself in after she’s found.”

Silence. “We’re at kind of a standoff, aren’t we, Brigid? I have no reason to propose we start a search for Laura Coleman, just your say-so. You don’t come in, and I have no choice but to kick this upstairs. I can’t keep it to myself any longer.” He didn’t sound triumphant, just sad.

“I’m so sorry, Max. I’m sorry to put you in this position.”

“Right.”

“Really. Listen, if you won’t help find Coleman, do me the favor of just holding off the dogs until tomorrow morning. I promise you I won’t run. Can you believe that?”

“No. I can’t.”

I had hoped this would work, but that’s why I already had a plan B just in case. So I didn’t spend any more time trying to convince him. “Okay. I give up. I’m coming in.”

The next tram was coming. Before Max had time to further voice his disbelief, I disconnected and leaned the cell phone against the back of the low wall where it would be unnoticed by hikers but found by Max. I knew Max wouldn’t trust me; he’d trace the phone instead and follow me here rather than wait for me to come to him.

Once I knew he had the phone, I’d tell him to look for the deleted numbers. If something happened to me, maybe he would. But I wasn’t sure what he would do immediately. Would he have the phone traced on the QT? Or would he report our conversation up the line? Would they issue an APB on me? Probably. Possibly. Just to give me the eighteen hours or so that I asked for was playing fast and loose with procedure. With Max I couldn’t tell anymore what he’d do.

But I had enough time to get back to Coleman’s place so I could find out if there was an autopsy report on the lot lizard that would narrow my search on NamUs. I wanted to see where it took me.