Heads Will Roll – Chapter Twenty-Two

NOT EDITED

Rick woke to Heidi standing up from the couch first, his cell ringing in his pocket second. Eyes still closed, he fished his phone out of his pocket, swiped his finger across the bottom of the screen, and pressed the device to his ear. “Downs.”

“Hello, Rick.”

“Who is this?”

“Who do you think?”

Rick opened his eyes as he sat up on the couch. “Keep everybody else out of this. This is between you and me. I killed him. Not Sherman. Not the other cops. Not the psychologist. Not the reporters. Not Bonnie. Not Carol. Me.”

Heidi turned to look at him, her brow furrowed.

“Ah, so the morning paper was right. You do know.”

Now Rick’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Oh, you didn’t know about the little story that Baker bitch spun for the media when she got back to LA? You should read it. It’s a real sizzler of a tale.”

Rick turned his phone to the side, pressing the microphone against his cheek to muffle his end of the call. “Could you go out and get me a newspaper?”

“Which one?” Heidi asked.

“I-I have a feeling you’ll know. Look for Baker’s name on the front page.”

She let out a harsh breath, but she nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

“Your friend’s article is going to cause some real problems for me, Rick.”

“Kidnapping teenagers and murdering people is what’s going to cause you problems, and you know it.”

The man chuckled. “No, prison isn’t a ‘problem’. I’ve always known that’s the end of the journey, and I’m okay with that, long as I get to finish the job out here first, and I still intend to do that. But with that move your friend pulled? It’s going to… ruffle some feathers when my so-called partner sees it and finds out who I am.”

“Who does he think you are?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Look—”

“No, Rick, you look. Your friend’s little article means I’m going to need to speed up the timeline of things, you know? And, well, that ruins a couple things for me. This phone call here is the closest I’m going to get to what I want. I’ll just have to listen to it instead of see it.”

“Listen to…? What are you talking about?”

“You got to see my face when I found out you had murdered my son. I want to see the same. I wanted to draw it out. I wanted to see your face for every step of it, Rick. Every single step. But right now, listening will have to suffice. Hearing the stutter of your breath when I ask it. Hearing the silent panic as you stand up and hurry out of the hospital.” A pause. “While you and Heidi were asleep there at the clinic, did anyone think to check on your children?”

***

Jeff and Bridget made it to the Downs’s house first. “Please tell me they’re okay,” Rick said before he’d even climbed out of the car. Jeff stopped him from going inside with a hand on his chest. “Jeff, please,” Rick whispered.

“Bridget’s inside talking… to your eldest three,” Jeff said, his voice quiet. “Logan’s not inside.” Jeff caught him as he fell to his knees. “I know. I know, Rick. We’re gonna find your boy. We’re gonna find him. But right now, I need you and Heidi to stay out here while I take Bo back to Logan’s room so he can take a look around. Okay?”

Rick nodded, hands wrapped tightly around Jeff’s forearms. “This is all my fault, Jeff. If anything happens—”

“Rick, you listen to me. You are not in control of what a crazed monster does. We’re not gonna let anything happen to Logan. But I need to take Bo inside. Heidi’s crying in the car. Go sit with her. Okay?”

“Okay,” Rick whispered.

Jeff helped Rick to his feet and nodded at Bo, gesturing for the blonde to follow him. Bo adjusted the strap of his camera bag as he followed Jeff up to the house. “The front door was locked when Bridget and I got here. I’ve got a key, so… so we went in, and I started calling out their names. Pete came out first, in his PJs, tired. Clearly woke him up. Jenny came out with Nickie basically still asleep on her hip. When Logan didn’t come out, Pete said he’d go get him, but I-I made him stay here in the foyer. Thank God I did.”

“Peter and Jennifer are the only kids that were in LA. How old are Nickie and Logan?” Bo asked.

“Nick’s, uh… seven, I think. God, that’s terrible that I don’t know that.”

“It’s not. I’m sure you do know it, but you’re in shock, Jeff. Just because they’re Rick’s kids doesn’t mean they aren’t important to you too.”

Jeff forced himself to nod. “Logan’s only four.”

“What’s his room look like?”

“Not great,” Jeff whispered.

“Okay.” Bo laid a hand on Jeff’s arm and gave it a squeeze that he hoped was comforting. “You don’t have to go in it again. I’ve got it. How about you go help Bridget question the kids, since they know you? Help them get back to their parents faster.”

Jeff nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He let out a breath, running a hand under his eye. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen if… Rick loves all his kids, his family, but that boy is so incredibly special to him.”

“Right now, I’ll focus on the evidence, and you focus on the kids in the living room. We’ll figure out the rest later, I promise,” Bo said.

“Thank you, Bo.”

“Of course, Deputy.”

Jeff took one last look at the closed door to Logan’s room, squeezed Bo’s shoulder, and made his way back to the living room. Bo waited until the man was well out of sight before pulling on a pair of gloves and opening the door.

The window was open. Not broken — simply open. I’LL CALL was written on the wall in what Bo could only assume was blood. For now, assuming it wasn’t Logan’s was far more productive than assuming that it was. If it were Logan’s blood, it was a survivable loss, but write out a message in the boy’s blood in such clean, unhurried letters meant he would have had to be unconscious. Bo didn’t really want to imagine the way these men would have knocked out a four-year-old autistic boy.

Bloody wall message aside, the room was in good condition. Nothing was knocked over. The bed wasn’t made, but the covers had simply been tossed back toward the foot of the bed rather than ripped off and thrown to the floor and balled up in a tangled mess from a struggle. There was blood in the bed, but not on the floor or the window.

Though Logan obviously wasn’t ‘in on’ his kidnapping, it still felt almost staged. He knew Heidi and Rick weren’t involved in a staged kidnapping, but what their killers gained from staging the room was far beyond Bo’s understanding of their minds.

Maybe Bridget was right. Maybe he needed to call Dallas.

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