Night Moves : Dream Man/After the Night Read online

  “I already have,” Bonness said reluctantly.

  “Then why the hell did you call?”

  “I thought maybe there was something we could do—”

  “I’ve already pushed her as far as possible, to get what information we did. This hit her harder than the last time, harder and faster. Just leave her alone and let her sleep. I promise that I’ll call as soon as she wakes up.”

  “Well, all right.” Bonness was still reluctant. “But the chief is going to be pissed. Obviously, for us to have a sketch, there has to be a witness. He’s going to want to know who and how.”

  “You can keep it quiet about the sketch until we actually have one. Until then, just say that a street informant gave us the word on another murder.”

  “That’s a good idea. Okay. But when he finds out—”

  “Blame it on me,” Dane said impatiently. “I can take the heat. But make it damn plain that if anyone gets to her, he’ll have to go through me.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Hanging up the phone, Dane first cut off the ringer, then turned his attention back to Marlie. She lay limply where he had placed her, her chest barely moving. She had lost weight during these past few weeks, he realized, and she hadn’t had a lot to spare. When this was over, he was definitely taking her away on that vacation he had promised her, someplace quiet and serene, with nothing to do but eat, sleep, and make love.

  Gently he removed her clothes and placed her, naked, between the sheets. Since he had moved in, she hadn’t worn anything to bed anyway. He checked the time: fifteen after midnight. Time for him to be in bed, too. He doubted he would sleep for quite a while yet, but at least he could hold her. He threw off his own clothes and got into bed beside her, then gathered her thin, silky body against his sheltering warmth. The faint, sweet scent of her skin soothed him. He buried his face against the thick swath of straight, dark hair. “Sleep, baby,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of you.”

  • • •

  He began trying to rouse her at eleven the next morning, but she was totally unresponsive. His beeper had been driving him crazy all morning. Bonness had called every half hour. Trammell had called twice. Grace had called three times, demanding to know if there was anything she could do, if he needed her to spell him so he could rest.

  Trammell had hit on the idea of having the television and radio stations broadcast the information that there had been another murder, but that so far no victim had been found, and asking that people check on their neighbors and call their relatives to account for everyone. It was a tactic likely to drive some people into hysterics if a family member was unreachable for any reason, and Chief Champlin had gone through the roof when he heard it on the radio. The mayor was apoplectic. Didn’t they realize the risk they were running with lawsuits? He envisioned thousands of people suing over emotional distress. Bonness covered his ass by blaming it all on Trammell, even though he had given his approval. When the chief called him, screaming in fury, Trammell coolly pointed out that the tactic had precedence, that during natural disasters and emergencies, such as heat alerts, people were often urged to check on their friends and relatives. That calmed the chief down somewhat, but he still wasn’t happy.

  All over the city, telephones and doorbells rang.

  Carroll Janes, indulging in a lazy morning in bed, was puzzled when he turned on the television at noon and heard the news. If the cops hadn’t found the victim, how did they know there was one? He wasn’t alarmed, though; he was almost certain no one had seen him, even at a distance, but even if someone had, he couldn’t be identified. He yawned and turned off the television set. Let them look.

  By twelve-thirty, Dane had gotten Marlie roused enough to visit the bathroom and drink some water, but she had gone to sleep again as soon as he helped her back into bed.

  At 12:55, his beeper went off again. The number displayed was Trammell’s. Impatiently Dane dialed it.

  “We found her,” Trammell said, his voice cool and expressionless. “Her name is Marilyn Elrod. Her estranged husband heard the bulletin and called from his girlfriend’s house to check up on her. When he didn’t get an answer, he drove over. Her car was in the driveway, and she always put it in the garage, so that bothered him right away. He still had keys to the house and let himself in, and found her upstairs in her bedroom.”

  “Marilyn,” Dane said. “Not Maryland. Marilyn.”

  “Yeah. Look, do you want Grace to come over and stay with Marlie so you can go to the scene?”

  He didn’t like leaving Marlie, but it was his job, his weekend on call. “Send her over,” he said gruffly.

  “She’s on her way,” Trammell said. “I gave her directions. She should be there in five minutes or less.”

  “You think you’re smart, don’t you?”

  “I just know you, pal.”

  Grace proved that she drove faster than Trammell by knocking on the door right then. Her normally serene face was troubled when Dane let her in. “How is she?” she asked immediately.

  “Still sleeping. I managed to rouse her for a few minutes about half an hour ago, but she was still too groggy to think. She conked out again as soon as I got her back to bed.” As he talked, Dane was slipping into his shoulder holster and putting on his jacket.

  “I’m on second shift tonight,” Grace said, following him to the door. “I brought my uniform so I can stay until the last possible minute, but I can’t stay much past two-thirty. I know it isn’t enough time,” she said apologetically.

  Dane swore under his breath, but didn’t see anything else he could do. “It’s okay. She’ll be more alert next time. Let her sleep until two, then make her respond to you. Tell her where I am, and that I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  Grace nodded in understanding. As he started down the steps, she said hesitantly, “Dane? Um . . . I was wondering. That is . . . Marlie . . . Can she . . . ? Oh, damn,” she said in frustration. “I don’t know how to say this.”

  Dane turned back. It was unusual for Grace to lose her composure. He saw how uncomfortable she looked, and took a guess. “Can she read your mind?”

  Grace bit her lip. “Alex said you were good at doing that yourself,” she muttered. “But . . . yes. Can she read my mind?”

  “She says she doesn’t.” Let Grace see if she could find any more reassurance in that than he did. “And I didn’t read your mind. It was a lucky guess, because the idea makes me uncomfortable too.”

  Grace nodded, understanding completely. Dane went to his car, and she stepped back inside, closing the door against the heat.

  She followed his instructions and at two began shaking Marlie and talking to her. To Grace’s relief, Marlie blinked her eyes open after only a minute. “Grace?” she asked, the word as blurred as if she had been drinking.

  Grace sighed with relief. “Yes, it’s me. I’ve made some fresh coffee. Would you like some?”

  Marlie swallowed, trying to push aside the thick fog in her brain so she could think. “Yes,” she finally said.

  “I’ll get it. Don’t go back to sleep.”

  “I won’t.” It was difficult. Marlie fought it, struggling to understand. Grace was here . . . Where was Dane? Had something happened to him? Sudden panic dissipated the fog even more, and she managed to sit up. She was nude under the sheet; she clutched the bedcovers to her, looking around, trying to gather some clue about what was going on.

  Grace returned with a cup only half-full of coffee, making it easier for Marlie to hold without spilling any. “Where’s Dane?” she blurted, her eyes dark with distress. “Has something happened to him?”

  “No, of course not!” Seeing her distress, Grace sat down on the bed and patted her arm. “Dane’s fine. He left just an hour ago.”

  “Left?” Confused, Marlie closed her eyes. Behind her lids flashed a nightmare image, surrounded with what seemed like a hundred candles, reflected in a darkened mirror. She caught her breath as part of her memory returned. “What da