Chapter 15
There are a lot of ways to kill a
person. He'd been taught that many years earlier. Especially a person in A.J. Simon's current position. He might take a nasty spill down the stairs that
resulted in a broken neck. Or perhaps his body would be found floating in the
swimming pool. Or maybe he'd be injected with a drug so potent it would stop
the beating of his heart in mere seconds.
A drug so potent and untraceable the medical examiner would be at a loss
as to what to put on the death certificate.
He thought of these things every
time he searched the man's room, or stood at the door listening to the
conversations being carried on between Simon and his older brother. He had never taken another person's life,
but knew he could for the right cause.
The intruder eased the door closed
as he slipped inside. As usual, Simon's
room was neat and orderly, despite his disabilities. He crossed to the work counter, devoid of anything at the moment
except a picture of Simon's family, and a battery operated pencil
sharpener. He slid open a cabinet door
he was more than eye level with, and peered inside, looking for just the right
spot. The upper shelf held board games,
puzzles, and books brought in for Simon by his family and friends. The lower shelf contained his Walkman, two
tidy stacks of cassette tapes, a writing tablet, pencils, pens, and a
folder. He leafed through the folder,
spotting A.J.'s attempts at the alphabet.
Like Rick, the intruder briefly wondered why the letters B and L were
consistently circled, or in some cases, singled out and written together as LB
in remote corners, or written on the flip side of a completed assignment. He filed that oddity away in his mind,
wondering if it would come to mean something, or if it was just the scrawling
of a brain injured man.
The intruder returned the folder to the exact place he'd found
it. Using his fingers, he felt up and
down the four inch wide wooden support beam that ran up the inside center of
the side-by-side cabinets. He reached
into the front pocket of his brown uniform trousers and pulled out a small,
delicate object. The silver disk was
flat and no bigger around than a woman's fingernail. Even those who considered themselves experts in the field of
espionage would find it hard to believe something so minute could be so
powerful. But, then, unlike him, they
didn't have the latest in technology at their disposal. Even here, secreted behind closed cabinets
doors, the bug would pick up any conversation that ensued within twenty feet of
it.
With just the tip of his finger the
man gently fastened the delicate object in place on the wooden beam above the
cabinet's top shelf. Satisfied that
there was no way A.J. Simon would accidentally spot it, the intruder silently
slid the door closed and moved on.
Another tiny device was placed on the curtain rod above the window, its
shiny silver metal blending in perfectly with the drapery hooks. The next disk was attached to the back of
the nightstand in a far bottom dusty corner by the floor, while the next one
went inside the telephone receiver.
He froze in the act of putting the
receiver back together, hearing voices coming from the hallway. He tracked their progress until he was able
to discern the conversation coming from the room that butted up to A.J.'s,
where a nurse had to shout to be heard by her half deaf charge. No doubt some old man was being returned
early from afternoon sessions like elderly patients often were, simply because
their stamina didn't allow for an eight hour day of rehabilitation
therapy.
He quickly finished what he was
doing, put the receiver back in its cradle, and then waited until he heard the nurse
push the wheelchair from the old man's room.
As soon as he was relatively certain she'd returned to duties elsewhere
on the floor, he slipped into the bathroom.
He had two disks left in his pocket. One was placed in the dark recesses
of the linen closet, while the other was attached to the underside of the
silver showerhead. Though that last
spot might have seemed foolish to some, he'd been in this business long enough
to be well-aware that many productive conversations take place in
bathrooms. Yes, even in shower stalls
without the water running, and sometimes even with the water
running. It was amazing how creative a
person could be if he believed he had reason to fear his home or office was
being bugged. He hoped Simon, given his
head injury, didn't think to go to creative lengths to keep his conversations
from being overheard. The guy had been
enough of a pain-in-the-ass as it was.
He'd already been forced to sneak around and hide these same listening
devices when Simon was sharing a room with George Middleton. He didn't appreciate having to retrieve
them, test them to make sure they were still in good working condition, and
then go through the process of planting them again.
"Middleton sexually assaulted
him my butt," the man muttered as he stepped into the shower stall to hide
his last disk. "Good story, and it
sounded pitiful enough when tearfully told to dear old big brother, but as far
as I'm concerned it was an act on the part of both Simons in order to get
Pretty Boy moved to a private room.
What better way of being able to talk 'business' without having to worry
about unwanted visitors, or a roommate. wandering in and out in the middle of
your conversations."
Satisfied with his work, he stepped
out of the stall, making certain he hadn't left any telltale boot prints
behind. Because he was still in the
bathroom, he almost didn't hear the distinct 'click, click, click' of heels in
the hallway that were rapidly approaching the room.
Oh shit. Just my luck, baldy would decide to show up early today of
all days.
His huge feet crossed the main floor
of A.J.'s room in three strides. His
eyes darted about the area, finally lighting upon the sturdy pencil sharpener
that was ten inches long by eight inches wide.
With the four 'D' sized batteries it took to run it, the handy little
office utensil would do serious damage to that macho cowboy's skull if the need
arose.
The man secreted his bulk as best he
could between the small junction of the closet and closed door. He gripped the pencil sharpener firmly,
holding it above his head. Without
consciously thinking about it, he flexed his knees as the door was opened.
The woman stepped all the way in the
room before she felt his presence. Out
of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the massive figure lurking behind
the door. She screamed, her body
reflexively plastering itself against the wall. The bag she was carrying fell at her feet as her hand flew to her
hammering heart.
"Oh, Mike!" Cecilia Simon gasped as recognition dawned.
"You startled me!"
The man dropped his left hand,
hiding it behind his back. "Sorry,
Mrs. Simon Ma'am, I wasn't expectin' you.
You're a little early today, huh?"
"Yes, I am." When Cecilia's heartbeat had slowed to a
more comfortable rate she bent down, grasping the fallen sports bag by its
handles. "I made a reservation to
have dinner with my son. I thought I'd
put his clean laundry away before I meet him in the cafeteria."
"Oh, hey, good idea." The man eased along the frame of the door. "There's nothing like the smell of
fresh laundry to make a guy happy, that's for sure. Especially when done by the hands of his own loving mama."
Cecilia eyed the tall man, whom
she'd always found to be a little strange.
And, like Rick, she often noticed him lurking outside A.J.'s room at the
oddest times. She pulled some hangers
out of A.J.'s closet, hoping her question sounded innocently nonchalant. "What exactly is it that brings you to
A.J.'s room this afternoon?"
"Routine maintenance."
"Routine maintenance?"
"Yeah, you know. Fixing a little bit of this, repairing a
little bit of that."
Cecilia retrieved three pairs of
pants from the bag she'd carried in and began laying them over hangers. "I wasn't aware anything was in need of
repair."
"Oh sure, several things. The overhead light wasn't working, there was
a leaky faucet in the bathroom, the window wouldn't open--"
"Really? Goodness, that's odd. The overhead light was working fine when I
left here yesterday. And A.J. never said
anything to me or his brother about a leaky faucet in the bathroom, or problems
with the window."
"Is that a fact? Well, let me tell ya', Mrs. S., this
building is older than my grandmother's bunions and in twice the need of
attention. Stuff just seems to break," the big man snapped the thumb and
forefinger of his right hand, "like that.
Quicker than you can say red rover red rover let Michael come
over." The janitor looked up at
the faint sound of pounding hammers coming from overhead. "Good thing they're giving this old
woman a major overhaul, that's for sure.
Uh...no offense meant there, Mrs. S."
Before Cecilia could ask any further
questions of the man, he made his escape, slipping backwards out the door until
he was in the hallway. "Gotta be
goin' now, Mrs. S. See ya'
round."
"Yes, Mike," Cecilia
murmured to the now empty room, "I'm sure I'll see you around."
With a preoccupied mind Cecilia made
quick work of hanging up the remainder of A.J.'s shirts and pants. She crossed over to the dresser and placed
socks, handkerchiefs, underwear, and pajamas in various drawers, then returned
to the closet where she deposited the sports bag on the floor next to her
youngest son's slippers and extra pair of tennis shoes. The entire time she went about her tasks,
Cecilia wondered how a janitor could do 'routine maintenance' without a tool or
toolbox on his person.
Cecilia shut the closet door, put
her hands on her hips, and surveyed the room.
About the only items A.J. had here she could imagine someone being
interested in stealing was his Walkman, cassettes, or the watch he'd asked Rick
to bring him the previous week now that numbers were beginning to mean
something to him again. Cecilia knew
the watch wouldn't be in the room at this time of day. A.J. would be wearing it. He removed it only when he showered or went
to bed at night.
Cecilia kicked off her red pumps and
climbed on the chair sitting at the work counter. She peered in the overhead cabinet, seeing A.J.'s Walkman in its
usual spot. She saw at least two dozen
cassettes sitting next to it. She
shuffled through them, mentally taking stock of the ones she knew A.J. had on
hand. As far as she could tell nothing
was missing, but for a more accurate assessment she'd have to ask Rick, since
he was the one who brought them in for his brother. Actually, for the most accurate assessment, she should ask A.J.,
but she wasn't going to do that. She
didn't want to upset him, or cause him to worry every time he left his
room. If something was missing, she and
Rick would take care of it.
There was nothing else Cecilia Simon
could think to check for. She wasn't
aware of the pencil sharpener Brendan had given A.J. the evening before when
Rick had brought him for his second visit, so didn't take note of its
absence. A.J. didn’t take note of its
absence either, because by the time he returned to his room from having dinner
with his mother, the pencil sharpener was back where it belonged.
Later that night, Cecilia talked to
her oldest son on the phone. When she
relayed her odd encounter with the big janitor, Rick swiftly put her concerns
to rest. "Oh, you mean Mike? No need to worry about him, Mom. He's an undercover cop Abby's got keeping an
eye on A.J. just to be on the safe side."
Cecilia slept easier that night, knowing someone besides herself
and Rick was watching over her youngest son.
________________________________
Abigail Marsh was sitting by herself
in a booth at the Squire, a restaurant two blocks south of the police
station. It was a place the lieutenant
occasionally sought refuge within during a hectic day when she felt the need
for more than a quickly gulped tuna sandwich at her desk in-between
interruptions.
Abby sipped a steaming bowl of beef
barley soup while studying the file folder she had laying in front of her. Although she knew she deserved to leave her
work back at the office for one short hour, new cases continually cropped up
that demanded her attention. She smiled
at her waitress as the woman refilled her glass with iced tea.
"Thanks, Carol."
"You're welcome,
Lieutenant. Your food should be ready
shortly."
"That's fine. I need a few minutes to relax today
anyway."
The heavy-set ash blond cast a
doubting eyebrow at Abby's folder. "Doesn't look like you're relaxing to
me."
"No, I guess it doesn't, does
it? Well, you know what they say, a
woman's work is never done."
From across the room a table of
rowdy male construction workers beckoned,
"Hey, Carol! Carol, we're
ready to order, sweetie pie!"
The woman shared a smirk with
Abby. "You can say that again."
Because Abby's back was to the door,
she didn't see the man enter the bustling restaurant that catered to blue
collar workers, cops, and local office people during lunch time. He tugged briefly at the cuffs of his dark
suit coat and reached up to straighten his slate gray tie.
Abby looked up when she felt the
man's presence at her right elbow.
"Lieutenant Marsh?"
"Yes?"
The man extended his right hand
while fumbling for his inside breast pocket with his left. "I'm Agent Dan Phillips,
Lieutenant. With the FBI."
He produced a thin black wallet
which he flipped open to a badge and ID photo.
Abby glanced at the photo as she
attempted to stand. Her efforts were thwarted
by the table that hit her thighs, leaving her in a very awkward and unbecoming
squatting position. She felt like she
was seated on an imaginary toilet and hurried to rectify the situation by side
stepping out of the booth.
"Nice to meet you, Agent
Phillips."
The man smiled. "Call me Dan, please."
"Only if you'll call me
Abby."
"Abby it is."
Abby indicated to the booth across
the table from hers. "Have a seat,
Dan. Would you like to order some
lunch?"
The agent slid into the offered
booth while Abby returned to her own seat.
"No, thank you. I finished
eating right before I went to the station in search of you. One of your men told me I could find you
here."
Before the conversation could
continue, Abby's broiled cod arrived.
Carol put the woman's plate in front of her, then turned to the new
guest.
"Can I get you anything,
sir?"
"No, thank...well, yes, on
second thought, I would like a piece of that cherry pie I see on the shelf over
there and a large glass of milk."
Abby glanced up from putting a small
dab of butter on her baked potato.
"Put it on my tab, Carol."
The waitress walked away amidst the
man's protests. "That's not
necessary, Lieutenant. I can certainly
pay for my own dessert." He leaned
forward and whispered with playful conspiracy,
"Besides, the government does give me an expense account."
"As the city of San Diego does
me," Abby countered in the same light tone the man used.
"Yes, I'm sure a woman of your
position does warrant an expense account, Lieutenant."
Abby wasn't sure what to make of the
man's open admiration. If he got
anymore enthusiastic he'd be like a puppy slobbering in her lap.
"I assume there's a reason
behind your visit, Dan, other than to watch me eat my lunch."
The man gave a polite chuckle. "Yes, there is unfortunately. I'd like to ask you some questions about an
ongoing investigation I'm involved in."
"Certainly, though I can't
imagine how I can be of help with a bureau case."
"I hope more than you think,
Abby."
Abby's brow furrowed, but she kept
her inquiries on hold until Carol had placed the man's pie and milk in front of
him. He forked off an end, chewed for a
moment, and then washed it down with a swallow of cold liquid. He leaned on the table, bringing his body
closer to Abby's, giving her the impression he didn't want to be
overheard. With the noise level in the
restaurant continuously on the rise as more and more people arrived she hardly
thought that was a concern, but then what few FBI agents she'd encountered in
her career always seemed to have an aura of intensity about them that bordered
on paranoia.
"I'm the lead investigator on a
case you were involved with about six weeks ago. At the old city morgue?"
Abby paused in the motion of
reaching for a napkin. "Yes?"
"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to
reveal many details surrounding the case, but I do need to know what your
people uncovered."
Being well aware of how mysterious
this case had been right from the start, Abby proceeded with caution. "I find it rather odd, Agent Phillips,
that I wasn't contacted ahead of time regarding your visit today. It would have given me the opportunity to
review my notes before speaking with you."
The man sat back in his seat, his
expression one of open befuddlement.
"You weren't contacted? But
my secretary made an appointment with someone at your end named Hanrahan. I thought it was a little strange that you
weren't at the station when I stopped by, but because I was running about
thirty minutes late, I assumed you'd gotten fed up with waiting for me."
Now it was Abby's turn to be
contrite. "No, I didn't get fed up
with waiting, I was never told..." to cover Hanrahan's uncharacteristic
inefficiency, Abby finished with, "regardless,
obviously somehow the message your secretary gave Sergeant Hanrahan got
misplaced. I apologize for the
inconvenience."
Dan smiled while lifting another
fork full of pie to his mouth.
"Believe me, Lieutenant, this is not an inconvenience. Mix-up aside, is it all right with you if we
continue our interview here?"
"That's fine. Though, if I could review my notes, I might
be able to tell you more."
"I'm on a fairly tight schedule
today, so for now let's see how we do.
I can contact you at a later date if I have more questions."
The man pulled a notepad out of the
right pocket of his suit coat. Abby
could see he had something written on the page he flipped it to, and assumed it
was filled with the questions he wanted to ask her. He took a pen from his shirt pocket and used it as a marker while
proceeding down his list.
"In general, I'd like to know
what your investigation wrought."
Abby was honest and frank with her
statement. "It would help if I
knew what was going on, Agent Phillips, because to tell you the truth, my
investigation wrought very little.'"
The man's smile was full of unspoken
apologies. "And I wish I could
share those things with you, but I can't.
Orders from above you, understand.
But I will break the rules long enough to tell you the man who was
killed was a Federal agent."
"What happened to his
body?"
"We took care of it."
Abby had to remember where she was
to keep from shouting when she spoke.
"And the FBI is allowed to do that? To tamper with a murder investigation that happened in my
jurisdiction?"
"I know, I know," Dan
crooned sympathetically, "it's frustrating. But, we're already aware of who murdered our agent. Now it's a matter of finding him."
"So this involves some type of sting
operation you guys had in place?"
"Yes, it does. Though I can't--"
"Say anymore." Abby beat the man to the punch.
"I'm sorry," Dan smiled
again, "I really wish I could give
you all the details, but right now I can't.
When I'm at liberty to, I promise I'll call and fill you in."
Although Abby didn't want to, she
grudgingly agreed. "Fair
enough. Just answer one question for me
and I'll be happy. Or at least be able
to quit spending my time scouring the records of every convicted felon, past or
present, in San Diego."
"A beautiful woman such as
yourself shouldn't be scouring anything, Lieutenant, so ask away."
Oh, brother. And here I thought I'd heard every line of
bull crap a woman in my position could possibly be subjected to.
Abby ignored the man's charm. He was suddenly starting to make her think
of a snake oil salesman. Smooth and
slick on the outside, but possessing only empty promises within. "Is there someone named White connected
to this case?"
"White?"
"Yes, as in the color
white. W-h-i-t-e."
If Abby had been sitting next to the
man she might have detected the jittery bobbing of the tassels on his Italian
loafers.
"No, no one named
White." Dan recorded the word on
his pad. "What significance does
it have for you?"
"Not much. It was mentioned as having been overheard in
the course of a conversation.
Obviously, it's not much of a lead."
"No," the man quickly
agreed, "it's not." The agent
glanced down at his notes, feeling a sudden rush to change the line of
questioning. "What I need to
know, Abby, is who was following our agent?"
"Your agent?"
"Yes, I've been told by my
people that a man was tailing our agent.
Possibly a police officer."
"No, there weren't any police
officers tailing your agent. At least
none that I'm aware of."
"No one who worked for
you?"
"No."
"What about the man who was hit
by the truck?"
"The man who was hit by the
truck?" Abby echoed the question
as though she'd almost forgotten this detail of the case.
"Yes. He was one of your officers, wasn't he?"
"Oh no. No, he wasn't. He was a private citizen.
We have yet to figure out exactly what it was he was doing in the
building to begin with, other than to say robbery might have been the
motive."
"Robbery? Robbery of whom, or what?"
Abby gave her shoulders a casual
shrug while squeezing the last bit of juice out of a lemon slice and trickling
it over what remained of her fish.
"I really don't know. The
man was a burglar by profession, with a list of convictions a mile long. He was fairly well known to our department,
actually."
"I see. Regardless, I need to talk to him. I'd like you to set up an interview for
me. Or better yet, if you'll just give
me his name, I'll contact him myself."
"That would prove an effort in
futility, Dan."
"Why's that?"
Abigail Marsh didn't even blink when
she looked straight into the agent's eyes, noticing for the first time they
were two different colors.
"The man you want to contact is
dead."
________________________________
Abby accomplished little more than
pacing her office floor in the hour since she had returned from lunch. The first thing she had done upon her
arrival was grilled Hanrahan as to the supposed appointment set up by Dan
Phillips' secretary. Hanrahan swore he
hadn't taken such a call, and Abby had no reason not to believe him. In the two years he'd worked for her, he'd
never done anything that would cause her to doubt his competency.
But certainly it was possible the
secretary had talked to someone else covering John Hanrahan's desk the day the
appointment had supposedly been made.
Someone else who wasn't as conscientious as John was. However, trying to find that someone would
prove next to impossible. As soon as
word got out Abby was after blood, everyone would disavow all knowledge of the
phone call in an effort to save his or her butt.
On the other hand, hadn't Abby
herself lied to Dan Phillips? When she
asked herself why, she really didn't have an answer. Maybe it was because he caught her by surprise when he started
asking for information regarding A.J., or maybe it was because, deep down
inside, she was doubtful of portions of his story.
But why, she wondered. The man had shown her legitimate ID. Or at least what looked like legitimate
ID. The FBI never had been an agency
she'd wanted to be involved with. While
they had a wonderful track record of solving crimes, the best technology at
their fingertips, and some of the brightest people working for them, they also
used their position within the government to blanket investigations in secrecy,
and to cover up things the public had the right to know.
Still, Abby understood why they'd be
upset, and maybe even a little secretive, in this situation. After all, it was one of their agents who was
killed. Abby had to acknowledge that if
she was on the trail of the man's killer she wouldn't give out much information
either, not even to a fellow law enforcement officer, for fear word would
somehow get back to the perpetrator of the crime.
Therefore, had she made a fatal
error because she hadn't revealed A.J.'s name?
Because she had, in fact, lied and said he was a career criminal, and
dead to boot?
But A.J. can't tell them anything
anyway, the woman attempted to
justify.
Right, Marsh, like that's going
to make any difference when you're pulled into the Chief's office, stripped of
your rank, and arrested for hindering a federal investigation.
Abby was just about to pick up the
phone and call the FBI's regional office in Los Angeles, when Hanrahan knocked
twice on the door, then peeked his head in.
"There's an Agent Matthews here to see you, Lieutenant. He says he's with the FBI. And believe me, he doesn't have an
appointment."
Abby looked out her picture window
to see a black man in a nondescript dark suit waiting on the other side of the
counter top.
How could they have found out so
fast?
Abby was certain she was about to be
read her rights and led away in humiliation when she told Hanrahan to show the
man into her office.
The black man extended his
hand. "Lieutenant Marsh, I'm Agent
Ted Matthews with the FBI."
"Agent Matthews." Abby's handshake was brief. "Would you like a seat?"
"Thank you."
Abby moved to sit behind her desk,
the fish she'd had for lunch swimming crazy circles in her stomach.
"Lieutenant Marsh, I'd like to
speak with you regarding an investigation you led about two months ago."
"The one involving the death of
the FBI agent down at the vacant morgue?"
"Uh...yes, ma'am. That would be the one. But, did you say the death of an FBI
agent?"
"Yes. Coincidently enough, I spoke to one of the bureau's people
earlier today. An Agent Phillips. Agent Paul Phillips."
"Oh. I see." The black
man stood, looking uncomfortable and out-of-place. For some reason Abby didn't think his uneasiness was simply
because a mix-up had occurred somewhere in the FBI's administration.
"I won't keep you then. If Paul has already talked to you, it would
be a waste of our time for me to repeat the same questions, now wouldn't
it?"
Abby stood. "Yes, Agent Matthews, it would. Especially given the fact Paul has
previously spoken to me."
As the man sidled for the door, Abby
lunged for his legs, only to land hard on her stomach. She paid no attention to the skirt bunched
up around her hips as she hollered,
"Stop that man!"
Later, she would wonder how a man
could flee out the door of a crowded squad room and make it all the way to the
street without anyone being able to catch him. She said as much at the top of her lungs to the staff members
she assembled in her office thirty minutes later. When Abby had no voice left, she dismissed them with a thunderous
slam of the door.
Abby personally picked up the phone
when the call came in from Los Angeles at four o'clock that afternoon. It only confirmed what she suspected. No Agents Dan Phillips or Ted Matthews were
employees of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Nor was there any type of on-going investigation in process regarding
Abby's case. When she mentioned it was
possible an FBI agent had been killed, the man on the other end laughed.
"I can assure you, Lieutenant
Marsh, if one of our agents had been killed in San
Diego, you'd
know about it."
Abby sat behind her desk long after
the first shift of police officers had given way to the arrival of the second
shift. For now, there was little else she could do but make certain all her
notes were well guarded.
The lieutenant saved every bit of
information she had on her computer regarding the troubling case on two
discs. When she was certain the files
had copied completely, she deleted everything from her hard drive. She took her paper notes out of her desk and
placed them in her briefcase along with one of the discs. From this day forward they would not be left
in her office when she wasn't present.
The remaining disc she locked in her small personal vault in the records
room.
As she left the building that night,
Abby was thankful she'd listened to her gut instinct at the restaurant. God knows if she hadn't, A.J. Simon might be
dead by now.
__________________________
If Abigail Marsh had been patrolling
the streets of Brendan's neighborhood two days later, she would have recognized
the black man dressed in the blue uniform of a United States Postal
employee. The shorts that came to his
knees were neatly pressed, as was his shirt with the postal insignia on the
right sleeve. Bright white socks rose
to cover his shins, a comfortable looking pair of thick soled black walking
shoes were on his feet. He pushed the
lightweight mailbag stroller along in front of him, smiling at the children who
passed on their way home from school.
Brendan's bus dropped him off at the
corner. He walked with a group of his buddies,
but one by one they parted ways as each came to his own home, until only
Brendan was left.
The boy made a wide circle around
the mailman, walking on Mrs. Cannelli's lawn in order to do so. This was the fourth day in a row he'd
noticed the postal worker. Brendan had
mentioned the man's presence to his mother the evening before, but she'd
dismissed his concerns with a preoccupied,
"Well of course he's hanging around the neighborhood, honey. He is the mailman, after all."
"But, Mom, no. He's not our regular mailman. This one's black, and I never actually see
him delivering any mail."
Linda chuckled while running a hand
through her son's hair.
"Sweetheart, I think you've been spending too much time with Rick
and A.J. Now you're looking for an
adventure around every corner."
Before Brendan could say anything
more on the subject, his
stepfather
bellowed from upstairs. Her lips
compressed tight with anxiety, Linda hurried off as if she was Mark's
handmaiden.
"And he's always watching me,"
Brendan had mumbled to the empty kitchen, finishing his story as the sound of
another argument drifted through the house.
Brendan's eyes flicked up to meet
the black man's as he passed. As usual,
the youngster wasn't acknowledged with more than a tight nod.
Brendan could feel the man's eyes on
his back as he continued toward his house.
He was glad Heather's bus dropped her off right in front of the
Milligans', and that Cheryl babysat for her until their mother arrived
home. At least the man wouldn't have a
chance to hurt her, nor would Heather's presence hinder Brendan if he was ever
forced to run.
The boy hazarded a quick glance over
his shoulder. The mailman was pushing
his bag now, slowly ambling along twenty feet or so behind Brendan. He was looking at the houses across the
street, as if in search of an address.
Maybe Mom's right. Maybe I'm just imagining things. Why would the guy be interested in me
anyway?
Before Brendan's mind could come up
with a plausible answer, a blue Chevy careened to the curb. It fishtailed to a stop with a squeal of
rubber. A woman with frizzy, two-toned
hair and a blouse so tight the buttons gapped where they tried to close around
her full breasts, shot out of the vehicle.
She grabbed the startled Brendan by the arm, whipping him around to face
her. She jabbed him in the shoulder
with two-inch blood-red nails manicured to a razor sharp point, causing him to
stumble backwards.
"Listen, you little bastard,
you quit hangin' around with them nosy dicks, you got that? What the fuck have you been tellin' 'em,
boy? Huh? What have you been tellin' em?"
She snared one of the shoulder
straps of Brendan's backpack, jerking him forward. He was so close now he could smell the alcohol on her breath, and
see the angry red streaks that lined her eyes.
"Cat got your tongue, huh,
pretty boy? Well, you better know how
to keep your mouth shut, 'cause we can make things a whole lot worse, sweet
face. I promise, we can make things a
whole lot worse!"
When she threw her head back and
laughed like a crazy witch, Brendan saw his chance. He jerked himself free of her grasp, running for all he was
worth. He didn't see the black man
chase after the woman's car in an attempt to get her license plate number. He didn't see anything. He ran without stopping to his house,
fumbled to let himself in with his key, then slammed the door behind him and
throwing the deadbolt for good measure.
The twelve-year-old leaned against
the door panting for breath. His heart
raced more from fear than exertion.
When he worked up the nerve, he cautiously moved to the living room
window. Brendan peered out from a
corner of the draperies, but didn't see anything. He risked exposing more of his body, until finally he was standing
in front of the window.
All was quiet in the
neighborhood. The boy saw no sign of a
blue car, or of the black mailman. He
could almost make himself believe he'd dreamed the entire incident if not for
the pain his felt in his right shoulder where the woman had stabbed him with
her fingernails.
Twenty minutes later, Brendan mulled
over the unsettling events while sitting at the kitchen table drinking a glass
of milk and nibbling on a cookie. A lot
of things had changed recently, and other than Brendan's new-found diligence in
school, few of those changes were for the better. Something weird was going on between his mother and Mark. They were fighting now like his mom and dad
used to, only when they had argued it had always been behind closed doors, and
in hushed tones in an effort to keep their disagreements from him and Heather.
But it was different this time. The
fights were loud, and the kind of words that were shouted by Mark would have
gotten Brendan's mouth washed out with soap if he ever used them. His father had never even used that kind of
language in their home, and never had Brendan heard his father call his mother
nasty names, no matter how mad he was at her.
Never had he heard anyone call his mother a dumb bitch, or a damn whore,
like he'd heard Mark scream the other night.
He wanted to make the man stop, had even gone to his mother's bedroom
doorway, only to have her frantically wave him away before Mark became aware of
his presence.
Now Brendan wondered about the woman
who had accosted him this afternoon.
Was it simply a case of mistaken identity, or maybe someone who was too
drunk to know what she was doing? But
it was funny, in an odd sort of way; that she told him to stay away from those
nosy dicks. He wouldn't have known to
what or whom she was referring, if he hadn't heard Mark yell at his mother the
other night after Rick dropped him off from a visit with A.J.
"I told you I don't want him
hanging around those damn nosy private dick cousins of yours, woman!"
Why would it matter to Mark whether
or not Brendan spent his time with Rick and A.J.? His stepfather had always made it clear he didn't want Brendan
around, so he should be happy he had some place else to be. And most of all,
why would some woman Brendan didn't even know have the same concerns?
Chapter 16
In the two weeks since Rick and
Troya Yeager had first eaten together at Marty's Café, they met for dinner
three more times. They giggled like
kids as butter ran down their chins while dining on lobster, they got to know
one another better at the Steak Pit while T-bones sizzled in the background,
and they talked far into the night over lasagna and red wine on Rick's boat,
the meal cooked by the captain himself.
It had been a long time since Rick
Simon had fallen head over heels in love with a woman. He found himself thinking about Troya at all
hours of the day and night, just as she found herself thinking of him. If they didn't happen to run across each
other at the rehab center while Rick was visiting A.J., then their nights were
capped off by a phone call placed from Rick's boat to her house.
As much as Rick sensed a sexual
attraction between them, he had yet to try to maneuver her into the bedroom,
which only emphasized more to the detective how serious this relationship
was. He'd be the first to admit he'd
dated a number of women over the years with the only intention on his part
being that the night end with a round of playful sex. Not that those particular women didn't want the night to end the
same way, but with Troya it was different.
He wanted to wait. He wanted
their first time together to be special.
He wanted it to be a significant step in their relationship, and one
they both desired to take. He didn't
want either one of them waking up with regrets the next morning.
For despite his strong attraction to
the woman, Rick readily acknowledged the vast differences between himself and
Troya Yeager. First of all, she was a
well-educated woman of culture and class.
More A.J.'s type than his. She
had attended only the best private schools since kindergarten, traveled abroad
for a year after college, and even been a debutante; though she'd wrinkled her
nose in distaste when she told Rick that had not been her idea, but rather, her
mother's. Still, he found it hard to
believe she could be so taken with him, an earthy guy who said exactly what he
was thinking regardless of the circumstances. A guy who rarely employed the art
of tact. A guy who often allowed his temper to do his talking. A guy to whom
money and position meant little. But
then, those last two items didn't mean much to Troya, either. Or so Rick was beginning to learn.
The detective was thinking of all
these things while in the swimming pool at the rehab center on Friday night. A.J. swam beside him wearing his life
vest. They had found the pool was
generally empty on any given night after eight o'clock, so tended to plan their
visits accordingly.