Whispers of the Dead - Страница 48

Gardner quickly shook his head. ‘Not yet. But we’ve had a report of an accident involving an ambulance on Highway 321, a few miles east of Townsend.’ I knew the place by name, a small, pretty town in the foothills of the mountains. Gardner hesitated. ‘It isn’t confirmed yet, but we think it was York.’

‘Accident? What sort of accident?’

‘It was in a collision with a car. The driver says the ambulance took a bend too fast and sideswiped him coming the other way. Spun both of them round, and the ambulance went into a tree.’

‘Oh, Christ!’

‘It took off again, but according to the car driver the front fender and at least one of the lights were smashed. By the sound it made he thinks there could have been some mechanical damage as well.’

‘Did he get the registration?’ I asked.

‘No, but a banged-up ambulance is likely to get noticed. And at least now we know which way York was headed.’

Paul had jumped up from his seat. ‘So now you can put up roadblocks?’

Gardner looked uncomfortable. ‘It isn’t that simple.’

‘Why the hell not? For Christ’s sake, how hard can it be to find a beat-up ambulance when you know which damn way it’s heading?’

‘Because the accident was five hours ago.’

There was silence as his words sank in.

‘The driver didn’t report it straight away,’ Gardner went on. ‘Seems like he thought it was a real ambulance, and was worried he might get into trouble. It was only when his wife convinced him to try for compensation that he called the police.’

Paul was staring at him. ‘Five hours?’ He sat down, as though his legs would no longer support him.

‘It’s still a valuable lead,’ Gardner insisted, but Paul wasn’t listening.

‘He’s gone, hasn’t he?’ His voice was flat and lifeless. ‘He could be anywhere. Sam could be already dead.’

No one contradicted him. He stared at Gardner with such intensity that even the TBI agent seemed to flinch.

‘Promise me you’ll catch him. Don’t let the bastard get away with this. Promise me that much, at least.’

Gardner looked trapped. ‘I’ll do my best.’

But I noticed he didn’t look Paul in the eye as he said it.

CHAPTER 21

THEY FOUND THE AMBULANCE next morning. Id spent most of that night in an armchair, dozing fitfully. It seemed endless. Each time I woke I’d check my watch and find that only a few minutes had passed. When I looked out of the window and saw a golden glow breaking in the sky, it felt as though time was starting up again.

Glancing at the other armchair, I saw that Paul was wide awake. He didn’t seem to have moved all night. I stood up stiffly.

‘Do you want a coffee?’

He shook his head. Flexing my neck and shoulders, I went into the kitchen. The coffee had been warming all night, filling the room with a stale, burnt odour. I poured it down the sink and made a fresh pot. I switched off the light and went to stand by the window. Outside, the world was starting to take form in the early morning gloom. Beyond the houses opposite I could just make out the lake, its dark surface smudged with white mist. It would have been a peaceful early morning scene, if not for the patrol car parked outside, a lurid splash of reality in the tranquil dawn.

I sipped my coffee as I stood by the kitchen window. Outside, a bird began to sing. Its lone voice was soon joined by others, a growing chorus of birdsong. I thought about Jacobsen’s grim forecast: If he hasn’t killed her already, she’ll be dead before the night’s out. As though on cue, the first shafts of sunlight touched the lake.

It was going to be a beautiful morning.

By eight o’clock the first TV crews and reporters began to arrive. Sam’s name hadn’t been released to the press, but it was always only going to be a matter of time before it leaked out. The uniformed officers stationed in the patrol car made sure the press stayed off the property, but in no time at all the road was choked with news crews and vehicles.

Paul barely seemed to notice. In the daylight he looked awful, the skin on his face grey and lined. He seemed increasingly withdrawn, lost in a private zone of suffering. The only time he came to life was when the phone rang. Each time he would snatch it up, tense with expectation, only to sag a moment later when it was just another friend or persistent journalist. After saying a few words, he’d hang up and retreat back into his shell. I felt for him, knowing all too well what he was going through.

But there was nothing I could do to help.

It was just before noon when the pattern was broken. The remains of sandwiches lay curling on plates beside us. Mine were half eaten, Paul’s untouched. I was beginning to think it was time for me to go back to my hotel. I was doing no good here, and Sam’s parents would be arriving in a few hours. When the phone rang again Paul grabbed for it, but I could see from the way his shoulders slumped that it wasn’t Gardner.

‘Hi, Mary. No, I haven’t—’ He broke off, his entire posture radiating a new urgency. ‘What channel?’

Letting the phone drop he grabbed for the TV remote.

‘What is it?’ I asked.

I don’t think he heard. He was flicking through the channels as soon as the screen came to life, scrolling through a cacophony of noise and images until he suddenly stopped. A young woman with lacquered hair and too-red lipstick was talking animatedly to camera.

‘… breaking news story, a report is coming in that an ambulance has been found abandoned in the Gatlinburg area of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park…’

Paul’s face had gone slack as the impact of the words struck him.

‘… exact location has not been revealed, and TBI sources are refusing to confirm that this is the same vehicle used in yesterday’s abduction of Samantha Avery, the pregnant thirty-two-year-old from Blount County. There’s no word yet on the whereabouts of the missing woman, but unconfirmed reports say the ambulance may have been damaged in a collision…’

The newsreader continued, her voice breathy and excited, as a photograph of York appeared on the screen, but Paul was already grabbing for his phone. It rang before he could dial a number. Gardner, I thought, and saw my guess confirmed in Paul’s expression.

‘Have you found her?’ he demanded.

I watched him slowly deflate at Gardner’s answer. In the silence I could hear the TBI agent’s voice, tinny and indistinct. Paul listened, his face tortured and intent.

‘And you let me hear about it on TV? For God’s sake, you said you’d call when you had any news… I don’t care, just call me, OK?’

He hung up. He stood with his back to me, bringing himself under control before he spoke.

‘They found the ambulance half an hour ago at a picnic spot close to I-40,’ he said dully. ‘They think York abandoned it and stole a car before he got to the Interstate. That’d take him halfway across North Carolina. Unless he headed west. He could be on his way to New Mexico by now. He could be anywhere!’

The phone shattered as he hurled it against the wall, scattering plastic across the room.

‘Jesus Christ, I can’t stand this! What am I supposed to do? Just sit here?’

‘Paul—’

But he was already heading for the door. I hurried after him into the hallway.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To see the ambulance.’

‘Wait a second. Gardner—’

‘Screw Gardner!’ He started to open the front door. I put my hand on it. ‘Get out of my way, David!’

‘Just listen, will you? If you go out now you’ll have TV crews trailing you all the way there. Is that what you want?’

That stopped him.

‘Is there a road at the back?’ I went on quickly, while I had his attention.

‘This one loops around the houses there, but I can’t—’

‘I’ll get my car. The press won’t follow me, but it’ll distract them. You go out the back and cut across the gardens, and I’ll meet you round there.’

He didn’t want to, but he could see the sense of what I was saying. Reluctantly, he nodded.

‘Give me a couple of minutes,’ I told him, and went out before he could change his mind.

Sunlight slapped my face when I stepped outside, dazzling me. I made straight for the car, trying to ignore the sudden clamour my appearance had sparked. The press surged forward, a wall of cameras and microphones, but their excitement was short-lived. ‘That isn’t Avery,’ someone said, and it was as though someone had nicked a switch. A few halfhearted questions were fired at me, but interest quickly waned when I didn’t answer. The attention of the TV crews and reporters was already back on the house as I climbed into the car and drove away.

The road meandered round in a slow curve before doubling back on itself behind Sam and Paul’s house. The street here was empty, except for Paul. He ran over as I pulled up, and had the door open before the car had even stopped.

‘Go back to the main highway and head for the mountains,’ he said, out of breath.

No trailing press cars followed us as we left the development. The route was signposted once we reached the highway. Apart from the occasional terse direction from Paul, we drove in silence. The mist-shrouded Smoky Mountains loomed up on the horizon ahead of us. The sight of them stretching into the distance was sobering, bringing home the impossible scale of any search.

The sun was high overhead, warm enough to pass for a summer’s day. After a few miles I had to use the screen wash to clear the glass of dead insects. The tension in the car grew as we reached the foothills and drove through Townsend. It wasn’t far from here where York had clipped the car and hit a tree. A few miles past the town we came to a tall oak by the roadside that had been ringed with police tape. The jagged white gouges in its bark were clearly visible. Paul stared at it as we drove past, his face bleak.