Fifty-nine

When April and Woody entered the park at Seventy-seventh Street, John Zumech's red Cherokee and Mike's red Camaro were already parked side by side on the grass. The two men were talking quietly, waiting for them. Peachy sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep with her muzzle resting on the partly opened window. There was no repeat of the morning's frenzy in the dog now. But four people were off their radar screens, and the officers were pumping adrenaline.

Woody stopped the car next to the other two and killed the engine. They had BOLOS (be on the lookout) for Brandy, David, Dylan, and Maslow. Nothing yet.

April took a deep breath, made a quick prayer, and got out. This was where Maslow had disappeared and she and Woody had started on this case forty-eight hours ago. The temperature had dropped twenty degrees to the low sixties, and the humidity was high. Conditions were almost the same as then. She felt a little chilled in the evening air and was glad she'd changed into the long pants and sneakers in her locker.

Tonight a deepening cloud cover obscured the sky and threatened more rain. The park lights were on, glowing eerily in another steamy Indian summer evening.

John raised his hand, and the two men approached. "Have you got your maps, April?" Now he was wearing the Search and Rescue orange jumpsuit with bulging pockets. A water bottle hung on his belt. He had raccoon eyes and his jaw was clenched, emphasizing the scar beside his mouth. He held the flat leash in his hand.

"How are you doing, John?" April greeted him.

"Pissed. I've been thinking about what happened last night. Peachy and I must have been out running when David came. She would never have let anyone near the house. Not even someone she knows." He shook his head angrily. "This is hard to believe. I don't know what happened to them. They were solid kids."

"They're dopers, and they're out here somewhere," April said grimly..

"The bastards made a fool of me for trusting them. They violated everything sacred about this profession- and when it gets out I had those jars in my garage-shit, the press is going to go nuts."

Not to mention the people a little closer to him, like his employer, the PD, and maybe the health department. April glanced at Mike. He tapped his watch.

"Are we waiting for anyone?" she asked.

"Everyone at CP knows we're here. About a dozen officers are en route," Mike said.

"Woody checked out the Owens' garage. The Mercedes is there now, but David took it last night. The garage attendant doesn't punch the time cards for cars with regular spaces, but he was certain David returned the car before they closed their gate at midnight. After that, the customers have to ring for entry."

Woody with the sensitive nose put his two cents in. "The garage guy told me the car stank so bad when it came in, he had to spray it with air freshener before he would get in."

Zumech swore. "I'll kill the little snot."

In the Jeep, Peachy whined. The trainer changed his tone to warm honey. "Good girl. You good, good girl. You ready to get started, sweetheart? That's great. Just a minute and we're going to work." He signaled the dog, and Peachy became silent.

John was over the top. His jaw was working so hard April could hear his mandibles pop.

"John, are you okay?"

"Let's get going. I want to nail him."

"Do you think Peachy can find him?" April asked.

"My guess is that David has been out here a lot. He knows the park well, and murderers do often return to the scene of the crime. We know he was here yesterday afternoon. We know he was here last night when he attacked your victim. If he's here now, Peachy can find him."

"What about the Fabman apartment?" April asked.

"I called Fabman at home. He told me he's been in frequent touch with his ex-wife. Neither of them knows where their daughter is," Mike said.

A little whine from Peachy. These humans were sure taking their time.

"Hey, Peachy, Peachy, Peachy. We're coming, sweetheart."

"I have a present for you." April jerked her head at the car. Woody retrieved the scent bag and held it up.

"That's David?" Now John was really excited. "I have one, too, but mine is real old." He produced an old Path-mark shopping bag, tied at the top and sealed with masking tape.

April handed John the scent bag with the pillowcase from David's unmade bed. Triumphantly, John took it to the Jeep.

"Look, follow me at a distance, will you? You still stink." He directed this over his shoulder at Mike. "And by the way, this is going to be a wild ride. David's been all over the place in the last two days. If he's been where Maslow is and we're real lucky, Peachy could lead us there. But she may just pick up David's scent and take us a bunch of other places. Don't panic if she takes us all the way back to his apartment on the East Side. Peachy is a genius, but doesn't know from time frames. All she knows is where the scent particles pooled."

John stopped by the car and gestured for the three cops to step back while he opened the car door, snapped on Peachy's leash, and talked to the dog. He gave her a biscuit, crooned softly to her in tones women dream of hearing from their lovers. Then he opened the scent bag for Peachy to smell. The dog took her time with the bag, licked at the pillowcase as if it were food, tried to jump in.

April, Mike, and Woody stood off to one side. A few people watched them from a distance. They were used to being stared at.

"Go find," John said finally.

Peachy lifted her head to air scent, forgot the earlier command for silence, gave a little yip of joy, and took off, dragging her master and the three police officers after her.

Sixty

David and Brandy walked west on Sixtieth. David was trying to think things out. A detective had been to his house. By now his dad would know that. His mother and father never agreed about anything, but they would agree about this. If they found out he'd skipped his shrink, they'd punish him big time. If they found out about the car, they'd freak out completely. He didn't want to get in trouble, but he didn't care anymore. By now he and Brandy had long ago missed the six o'clock news on TV. He needed a drink or a joint, something to chill so he wouldn't worry so much. They hit Park Avenue. David's stomach stabbed him with killing force. His ulcer was killing him. He could almost feel it begin to seep blood. The pressure to do something really bad on his own was tremendous. Something without Brandy nagging at him and getting in the way. He felt like killing the girl in the cave his own way. That should be his job alone. He could do it the way he wanted. Then he could tell Brandy about it later. That was the best way. Two of them together never got the job done right. She'd forgotten the finger. That was pretty irresponsible. He wouldn't have done that.

They stopped on the corner. Brandy looked up. The wind was kicking up, and the sky had completely clouded over. He used that as an excuse.

"It's going to rain, maybe you better go home," he said.

"I don't want to. I want to stay with you." She took his arm.

He pulled away from her. "Look, Brandy, it would be better if I handled this myself." He started walking faster. He'd made up his mind.

Brandy followed him a few steps. "David, don't you love me?"

"Sure, I love you."

"If you love me, why didn't you buy me a gift?"

"What are you talking about?" He wasn't in the mood for this.

"You didn't buy me a gift. You're supposed to do that," she complained.

"Jesus, Brandy, I've got stuff to do. How about I bring you a gift? A human sacrifice. Would that do it?"

"Maybe. But I want a Prada bag, too."