Night Prey

chive-flavored potato chips, sixty cents from a machine.
    “A hell of a coincidence,” Lucas said. He told her briefly about Price’s nervous statement, and about Del’s investigation at the fire, the dead deputy, and the .50-caliber tubes. “So the Seeds are in the Cities.”
    “And this Joe Hillerod was convicted of rape?”
    “Price said sex, so I don’t know exactly what it was. If our guy is a member of the Seeds, it’d explain a lot,” Lucas said. “Gimme a couple of chips.”
    She passed the pack. “What does it explain?”
    Lucas crunched: starch and fat. Excellent. “They’ve had years of hassles with the law, they’ve even got a lawyer on retainer. They know how we operate. They move around all the time, but mostly in the Midwest, the states we’re talking about. The gaps in the killings—this Joe guy might have been inside.”
    “Huh.” Connell took the chips back, finished them. “That sounds very good. God knows, they’re crazy enough.”
     
     
     
    CONNELL MADE A long phone call from the airport, talked to a woman at her office, took some notes. Lucas stood around, looking at nothing, while the pilot avoided him.
    “Hillerod lives up near Superior,” Connell said when she got off the phone. “He was convicted of aggravated assault in Chippewa County in March of ’86 and served thirteen months. He got out in April of ’87. There was a killing in August of ’87.”
    “That’s neat. He didn’t do any other time?”
    “Yeah. A couple of short jail terms, and then in January of ’90, he was convicted for sexual assault and served twenty-three months, and got out a month before Gina Hoff was assaulted in Thunder Bay.”
    “But wasn’t the South Dakota case—”
    “Yeah,” she said. “It was in ’91, while he was inside. But that was the weirdest of all the cases I found. That’s where the woman was stabbed as much as ripped. Maybe that was somebody else.”
    “What’s he done since he got out?” Lucas asked.
    Connell flipped through her notes. “He was charged with a DWI in ’92, but he beat it. And a speeding ticket this year. His last known address was somewhere up around Superior, a town called Two Horse. Current driver’s license shows an address in a town called Stedman. My friend couldn’t find it on a map, but she called the Carren County sheriff’s department, and they say Stedman is a crossroads a couple of miles out of Two Horse.”
    “Did your friend ask them about the Hillerods?”
    “No. I thought we ought to do that in person.”
    “Good. Let’s get our ass back to the Cities. I want to talk to Del before we start messing with the Seeds,” Lucas said. He looked across the lounge at the pilot, who was sipping a cup of coffee. “Assuming that we make it back.”
     
     
     
    HALFWAY BACK, LUCAS, with his eyes closed and one hand tight around an overhead grip, said, “Twenty-three months. Couldn’t have been much of a rape.”
    “A rape is a rape,” Connell said, an edge in her voice.
    “You know what I mean,” Lucas said, opening his eyes.
    “I know what men mean when they say that,” Connell said.
    “Kiss my ass,” Lucas said. The pilot winced—almost ducked—and Lucas closed his eyes again.
    “I’m not interested in putting up with certain kinds of bullshit,” Connell said levelly. “A male commentary on rape is one of them. I don’t care if the guy back at Waupun calls me a girl, because he’s stupid and out of touch. But you’re not stupid, and when you imply—”
    “I didn’t imply jackshit,” Lucas said. “But I’ve known women who were raped who had to think about it before they realized what happened. On the other hand, you get some woman who’s been beaten with a bat, her teeth are broken out, her nose is smashed, her ribs are broken, she’s gotta have surgery because her vagina is ripped open. She doesn’t have to think about it. If it’s gonna happen, which way would you want it?”
    “I don’t want it at all,” Connell said.
    “You don’t want death and taxes, either,” Lucas said.
    “Rape isn’t death and taxes.”
    “All of the big ones are death and taxes,” Lucas said. “Murder, rape, robbery, assault. Death and taxes.”
    “I don’t want to argue,” Connell said. “We have to work together.”
    “No, we don’t.”
    “What, you’re gonna dump me because I argue with you?”
    Lucas shook his head. “Meagan, I just don’t like getting jumped when I say something like, ‘It must