C. Box - The Highway

Then she raised her head and opened her eyes. She was suddenly furiously angry, and she cursed herself for taking the time to gather her thoughts, to regroup. It was time the Sullivan girls-and possibly Cody-couldn’t afford to have wasted because of her indecision.

She glanced at her watch. Enough time had lapsed. She felt a pang of guilt regarding the dirty trick she’d played on Sally, leaving her in there with the laptop. But she had no doubt Cody would approve.

Cassie turned on her heel and marched back into the shop. Sally Legerski sat again behind the counter but didn’t look over as Cassie sat back down at her computer. Sally looked shell-shocked. The paused image on the screen included the man and the girl. It was just after he’d yanked her back onto the bed.

“You watched some of it,” Cassie said.

“I had to.” Then, “It’s him. It’s Rick.”

Cassie felt a surge of excitement. “How can you be sure? We never see his face.”

Sally wouldn’t meet Cassie’s eyes. “That birthmark on the small of his back. You can see it when his shirt pulls up. I recognize that birthmark. It’s purple and it covers most of his back. He was always self-conscious about it because it’s sort of in the shape of a skull. He used to call it his death’s-head, and it does kind of look like that.”

“You’re sure?”

Sally looked over with fury in her eyes. “It’s him .”

At least, Cassie thought, looking at where the video was stopped, Sally hadn’t advanced it to the end.

“What’s your Wi-Fi password?”

Sally didn’t respond. She seemed to be in a rage.

“Sally, what’s your password?” Cassie asked sharply.

After Sally told her, Cassie went to work. Sally talked in a wooden voice, as much to herself as to Cassie.

“He is a very controlling man.”

Cassie acknowledged her with a “Um-hmmm.”

“For the first few years, I didn’t mind it that he wanted to know everything I did during the day and who I might have talked with. I found it kind of endearing that he was so jealous. But it wasn’t just jealousy-it was possessiveness. Like he didn’t trust me at all and he was suspicious of everything I did or said. He’d go over the phone bills and ask about strange numbers, or check the computer to see what Web sites I looked at. And he’d get angry if I didn’t agree with him on something, even if it was trivial. After a while, I felt suffocated and I couldn’t stand it.”

Cassie could guess the next part, and it came.

“But I never thought he was capable of something like this. ”

* * *

After the last five minutes of the video file was copied to her hard drive, compressed and sent, Cassie opened her cell phone and redialed the most recent number called. Again, she got the receptionist at the Park County Sheriff’s Department.

“This is Lewis and Clark Investigator Cassandra Dewell. I need to talk to Sheriff Pedersen right now. It’s an emergency.”

“He might have left for the day, ma’am.”

“Then patch me through to his cell or his house. Right now! ”

The receptionist paused as if to argue but thought better of it.

After a minute, Pedersen came on the line. It didn’t sound like he was using his cell. “Yes, Deputy Dewell?”

She ignored the irritation in his tone. “Where are you?”

“Here, at the office. But I was planning on packing it in early this afternoon, why?”

“Is Trooper Legerski still there?”

“I’m not sure. He might have left after he talked to the judge.”

“Please look,” she said.

“Can you tell me what this is about?” he asked, still annoyed.

“Legerski’s a rapist and a murderer. He’s probably got the Sullivan girls imprisoned right now on some land he owns and I don’t know if they’re dead or alive.”

The silence was infuriating. Cassie said, “Sheriff, find Legerski and lock him up before he knows what’s going on. He’s a fucking monster, and if you check your e-mail you’ll see proof. But detain him first, and then watch it if you can.”

“Hold on,” Pedersen said, and she could hear the receiver clunk down on his desk. In the background, she heard Pedersen ask, “Is Rick still here?”

There was an exchange of voices she couldn’t make out, then Pedersen was back on the phone.

“He was in the squad room bullshitting with a couple of deputies but I guess he left. If you hadn’t heard, the judge turned down your request for a warrant.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Go find Legerski and take his firearms away and put him in your jail. I’m not kidding, and if you don’t do it right now everybody in Montana will want to know why when this thing breaks.”

“Look,” Pedersen said, “I know Rick pretty well. What you say comes across as kind of crazy. I can’t just arrest him based on your accusation and with no evidence.”

“I told you,” she said, her voice rising until it was a shout, “ The evidence is in your goddamn e-mail in-box. You’ll see proof of your buddy raping a girl who’s chained to a wall and then gutting her like a deer. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen, and the man who did it was in your office. Get him secured away and then cancel all the holiday vacations and get every officer you’ve got on their way to the old Schweitzer place off U.S. Highway 89.”

She paused and looked at her screen. “The coordinates for your GPS units are Latitude 45–10?06? North, Longitude: 110-51?45? West. Got that?”

Silence. Then Pedersen moaned, “Jesus. Oh, my God…”

Cassie said, “You’re looking at the video file I sent.”

“Oh, man.” Then: “ Oh, my God. Where did you get this?”

“Somebody left it for me.”

“I can’t see his face. How do you know it’s him?”

“He’s got a birthmark on his back. There’s a point in the video where you can see it.”

“But-”

“His ex-wife is sitting right in front of me and she made a positive identification. She says it’s him.”

“Are you sure this thing isn’t faked?”

“It doesn’t look faked to me. Does it look faked to you?”

“Repeat the coordinates,” Pedersen said, suddenly all business.

She did.

Then, “Sheriff, don’t put the call out over the radio to apprehend Legerski. If you do he’ll hear it and run for cover. It would be better if you sent some guys to find him and pull him over.”

“I agree.”

“I’ll meet you at the Schweitzer place,” she said. To herself, she whispered, “Hold on, girls. Hold on, Cody.”

2:51 P.M., Wednesday, November 21

Gracie and Danielle stood huddled together along the side wall of the room under a metal air grate. It was the one place in the room they’d found where the odor from the dead body in the corner and blood on the floor was the least likely to make them gag.

Gracie’s bare feet were cold from the concrete and the cold seemed to be seeping up through her bones. She held Danielle tighter, hoping to transfer her sister’s body warmth, but didn’t know what to do to warm her feet. Sometimes when she exhaled, her breath came trembling out.

She thought about snatching the blanket back from where it was draped over the dead body, but she couldn’t yet make herself do it.

Danielle stood wordlessly chanting her mantra and rocking.

“The next time someone is at that door, do the cell phone trick, okay?” Gracie said to her sister.

Danielle hadn’t spoken or looked up in an hour. It was the longest she’d ever gone without talking, Gracie thought.

“Danielle, pretend Justin is on the other side of the door.”