The Chemist: A Cale Van Waring Adventure by Janson Mancheski

Author:Janson Mancheski [Mancheski, Janson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fearless Publishing House
Published: 2019-03-16T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 37

Cale awoke Thursday morning, and if he'd ever felt more exhausted, he couldn't remember when. In his dream he'd been climbing a cliff of craggy rocks, each crest higher and steeper, each handhold more precarious. He’d crawled into bed sometime after three a.m. Now, upon waking, it felt like he hadn't slept more than an hour all night.

Victim Number Five.

"Sorry." Maggie was standing at the window across the room, where she'd been peeking out between the blinds. "I didn't mean to wake you."

“You didn’t.” Cale’s voice was dry. "Got to get up anyway."

She was dressed in jeans and a high-necked sweater. Maggie had cancelled her morning appointments, she reported, and was headed to the hospital to sit with Janet. To Cale, her demeanor was aloof, her tone almost cordial, the way you'd speak to an aunt you hadn't seen in years. When he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes, she told him that she was fine. Yet her pale countenance reminded him of a vampire's victim.

"You guys find anything last night?" she asked. When he studied her, she glanced back out the window, as if she might be spying on elves lurking in the trees.

Cale shook his head. "Same as the others. Nothing. Nothing relevant, anyway."

They agreed to meet later at the hospital. As soon as he could break away. With a new missing victim, Cale was uncertain how this day's schedule might unfold.

He watched as Maggie drifted from the room, silent as a spirit.

——

In spite of Cale’s caffeine overload, the drive to work took forever. He pictured the station in chaos. The day commander would be barking orders to street cops and other subordinates down the food chain. Tempers short. Stress dripping from the walls.

On the other hand, perhaps it would be the opposite. Morgue-like silence. Everyone focused, preparing for a hurricane while the higher-ups decided how to handle the negative publicity certain to flood their way.

Victim Number Five.

Cale had spent the better part of the night at the scene of the suspected crime. A spacious, suburban shopping mall. A credit card transaction had been traced back to an Old Navy store inside. The last place the missing woman had been spotted. Other than this meager lead, the remainder of the night had proved fruitless. The missing female's vehicle was nowhere to be found, no sign of it in the parking lot anywhere. No crime scene, no witnesses, no clues. An all too familiar refrain.

"This BS is getting old," Staszak had growled, tossing an empty coffee container into the backseat of his boat-sized Buick. He’d slammed the door and driven off into the wee hours' darkness.

No argument from Cale. Without any sign of the missing victim, there was not much else for them to do. Following his partner's lead, he’d slid inside the Bronco and headed for home.

——

In the station house now, moving down a hallway, Cale paused outside the door of an interview room. He peered in through the small observation window.

Anton Staszak, freshly showered and dressed, was conversing with a tall, handsome woman.

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