BY THE TIME WE LEFT the office, the mall was closed and the parking lot practically empty, a few cars scattered randomly across the vast expanse of blacktop. As Yuri and I headed for our respective cars it suddenly occurred to me that Jim’s friend, Denny, might be in danger. Why hadn’t I thought of that before?
I turned around and ran after Yuri. “Hey, wait up,” I yelled. Yuri turned toward me just as a shot rang out. I raced to a nearby car and dropped down behind it as a second shot split the air. Disoriented yet hyper-alert, my fight or flight response couldn’t quite make up its mind what to do.
“Cameron, are you okay?” Yuri yelled.
“Yes!”
“Stay down!” Did he think I was going to stand up and make myself an easy target?
As I crouched behind a silver Ford, all I could hear was my own ragged breathing. There were no more gunshots, no one talking or yelling, no cars moving, no animals skittering, nothing. Just silence.
Had someone taken a shot at me? At Yuri? Whether they’d taken aim at one or both of us, it had to be personal. Mall shooters went inside and looked for crowds. I wasn’t sure where the shots had come from, but unless there was a sniper out there who could pick us off at a distance from some carefully chosen location, they had probably come from somewhere near the back of the mall. There were lights around the perimeter of the parking lot, but the mall itself was dark and lifeless this time of night.
I looked around at the handful of cars in the parking area. I always wondered why anyone would leave a car there late at night. But there were always a few, for which tonight I was very grateful. Especially grateful for the one I was hiding behind. I prayed I was not hiding in plain view of someone on the other side of the lot. And I hoped that Yuri, too, was out of sight of the shooter.
I waited for what seemed forever. No other shots were fired.
Finally, Yuri yelled, “Stay where you are.”
“You mean me?” I called back.
“Yes, you.”
I didn’t hear anything for another few minutes. Then I heard someone running and saw Yuri dart behind another car about thirty feet away. After a short pause, he headed in my direction, bent over, with a gun in his hand. Unless he knew where the shot had come from, the gun was more of a prop than a weapon.
When he dropped alongside me he said, “I think they were just trying to scare us.”
“Well, it worked.”
“He or she must know our cars.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“I think we should stay together.”
“Then, why don’t we take my car and you go home with me?”
“It’s a plan.” He smiled. “I just wish you were inviting me up to see your etchings.”
“Even if I had some, I don’t think Mom and the kids would approve.”
“Did you know the French version is ‘do you want to come up and see my collection of Japanese stamps?’”
“You’re making that up.”
“In Italian it’s ‘come up and see my butterfly collection.’”
“I know you’re trying to calm me down, but it isn’t helping. For the record, in England, it’s ‘fancy a shag’?”
“Now you’re making things up.”
“Are we going to stay crouched here exchanging trivia, or should we see if we can make it to my car?”
“I haven’t called 911, have you?” Yuri asked.
“No.”
“So, no use waiting to be saved by the cavalry. Unless you think some Good Samaritan heard the gunshots and called them.”
“I think it’s unlikely, don’t you?”
“Someone in a car wouldn’t necessarily know that what they heard were gunshots. Besides, people have a tendency to avoid getting involved.”
“We could call the police and wait for them to get here, but personally, I’d like to get the hell out of here.”
“Do you want to stand up first, or should I?”
“After you, Alphonse.”
“Before my time. Compromise … let’s stay low and at the same time zigzag toward your car.”
I couldn’t think of a better option, so we did a version of the gorilla shuffle, zigging one way and then another, until we reached a large truck. My car was still about 100 feet away, across an empty space. “Do we just make a run for it? It feels kinda exposed out here.”
“Unless you want to spend the night behind this truck.” He took a deep breath and stood up. “You go to the drivers’ side; I’ll go around to the other side.”
“We split up so whoever is out there has to choose which one of us to shoot first?”
“Something like that.” He took off running, and I quickly followed suit.
When we arrived without either of us taking a bullet, we simultaneously leapt inside. I switched off the internal light, started the car without turning on my headlights, and raced toward the nearest exit.
There were no more shots, and after we turned onto the main road leading away from the mall, we were fairly certain no one was following us. Although if they knew our cars, they probably also knew where we lived. So not being followed wasn’t much consolation.
“P.W. should be glad she parks on the other side of the mall,” I said.
“You don’t think they would have shot at her, too, do you?”
“We need to call her.”
“First, let’s decide whether we’re going to call the police.”
We started to list pros and cons and realized that we were coming up with mostly cons. First, we couldn’t be 100 percent certain we’d heard gunshots. We’d already left the parking lot and didn’t want to go back and wait. We didn’t know for sure that any gunshots fired were aimed at us, and we didn’t want to tell the police why we thought someone might be shooting at us.
The last “con” was a biggie from my point of view. If we started talking about specific people who might want to either scare us or worse, things could get complicated fast. Especially if we named Randy Mann as a potential shooter or as someone who may have hired a shooter. To anyone who didn’t know the entire story, that might seem a bit farfetched. Worst of all, an accusation like that could piss Randy off big time.
In the end we decided not to call the police. We did, however, call P.W. She answered almost immediately. After being assured that nothing untoward had happened to her when leaving the mall, we quickly explained what had happened to us. Then we gave her our reasons for not calling the police. She hesitated at first, then finally agreed that there was little to gain by calling them unless we were willing to spell out all of our suspicions. She even threw out the possibility that it had been a random shooting.
“They were trying to scare us,” Yuri argued. “It wasn’t random.”
“If they’d been serious about, ah, taking us out, they would have stayed around and tried again,” I added. “It could be one person’s desperate act to try to warn us off, or it could be part of a larger effort to keep Brian’s research from seeing the light of day.”
“In either case, I think we need to be vigilant but not overreact,” Yuri said.
P.W. thought about that a minute. In the end she said that she was okay with us not reporting it to the local police but that I should call Connolly. He needed to know that things were escalating, even if it was just a scare tactic. And she warned that he might insist that we file a report. On the off chance that it actually was a random shooter who could decide to strike again.
I promised I would call him, although I was quite certain that he would be calling me once he found out that Yuri and I had discovered another body.
Next we called Denny to warn him to be careful. When he didn’t answer we left a message saying we thought he might be in danger and asked him to call us as soon as possible, night or day. We didn’t know if either of Jim’s roommates would have called him about Jim’s death, and we didn’t want to leave a phone message telling him that his friend had been murdered. Instead, we simply said there had been an accident and that we would give him the details when he called us back. We speculated about whether the police would answer Jim’s cell if it rang. If Denny called Jim and they did, then Denny might learn about his friend’s death through them. If so, he might not think he needed to return our call. We would have to keep trying to get in touch.
Even though we hadn’t seen anyone following us, we knew there was the possibility that someone could be waiting at my place with the intent to frighten us more, or maybe even to shoot us for real. They—whoever he, she or they were—had shown a willingness to kill other people. Although unless they were really poor shots, we were both still assuming the attack in the parking lot had been a scare tactic.
We parked out front and stayed in the car a few minutes to check things out. The main house on the large lot was a turn-of-the-century Tudor, brick and stucco with ornate half timbers inside and out. The front yard was nicely landscaped with mature trees and meandering beds of flowers and greenery interspersed with the occasional statue and pieces of eclectic yard art. There was a large antique light illuminating the entrance alcove on the front porch. Only faint wisps of diffused light reached the gate that lead to the carriage house out back.
Everything seemed normal. A bit spooky under the circumstances, but normal. We got out of the car and reconnoitered some more.
The brick walkway to the carriage house out back was lined with bushes and trees. I usually liked the feeling of privacy the foliage provided, but this evening I would have preferred more line-of-sight. It wasn’t going to be hard to stay in the shadows as we made our way down the path. On the other hand, someone else could be doing the same thing. We had agreed that it was unlikely anyone was going to assault us, but I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Especially when I saw that Yuri had his gun out.
“Hey, it’s just a precaution, nothing more,” he said when he saw me eyeing his weapon “I don’t anticipate having to use it.”
No one jumped us as we made our way down the path toward the brightly lit entrance to the carriage house. The damn spotlight next to the porch was always burning out, but now, when visibility wasn’t something we wanted, it was like a lighthouse beacon that had been upgraded with super bright halogen lights.
Once past the bright lights and safely inside, we both took audible breaths, and I could feel the tension leak out of my shoulders.
The TV was on in the living room. I locked the door behind us as Yuri moved quickly toward the living room. Apparently, he was still on full alert. He motioned for me to stay back, but I hurried after him. The last thing I wanted was for him to surprise Mom and the kids by bursting in on them with a gun in hand.
The door to the living room was half open. Yuri and I peered around the corner. There was no intruder. Just Mom and Mara watching TV and Jason on his computer. It all looked so normal, so far removed from what we had just experienced. Yuri quickly put his gun away, went inside, and challenged Jason to a video game. That told me he had no intention of leaving right away. Him staying with us was becoming a habit. Maybe I should have Mom bring her Futon down.
Mom raised her eyebrows, stood up and motioned me toward the kitchen. I would have tried to bluff, but she can sense when I’m stressed or upset about something. In no time at all I was blabbing the entire story about the shots fired in the parking lot. Instead of sympathy, she gave me a head shake of disappointment that I knew all too well of late. Then she went into the other room to see if Yuri wanted anything to eat or drink.
I poured myself a glass of wine and sat down at the kitchen table to check my phone for messages. There were none. I dialed the number we had for Denny again and waited while it rang eight times before giving me his voice mail. I left another message urging him to be careful and to call as soon as he could. It was entirely possible he’d heard about Jim’s death by now. The college grapevine is active 24-7 through a number of media channels. Still, that didn’t explain why he wasn’t answering.
Next I called Connolly and got his voice mail. I left a message saying I had something to report.
After delivering a plate of food and a glass of wine to Yuri, Mom came back into the kitchen and sat down across from me. “It does seem like things are getting a bit out of control,” she said.
“I recognize that is your way of saying, holy shit, what have you gotten yourself into.”
“Rather a vulgar way of putting it, but yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “As you know, it started with a few stolen campaign signs and has mushroomed from there. I’m concerned, but we’re trying to stay on top of things.”
“I do appreciate Yuri looking out for you.”
I felt myself bristle at the idea that I couldn’t take care of myself, but then, I too was thankful to have him around.
“It’s hard to believe two people have been murdered just to help someone win a congressional seat,” Mom commented.
“Well, it may be more complicated than that.” I explained about Brian’s research and what we assumed he had hoped to accomplish. The facts he’d uncovered might not only link the Mann campaign to money from the oil industry but could possibly identify illegal campaign donations and reveal whatever illegal things big money does to influence elections and control politicians. Maybe even including direct bribery. And his research hadn’t been limited to the Manns. We had no way of knowing who was on his list or how many.
She sighed and asked if I would like a cup of tea. I nodded. My wine glass was empty, although I didn’t remember drinking anything. I reached into my pocket for a Kleenex and came up with the two pieces of paper from Jim’s jacket pocket. I put them on the table and smoothed out the receipt.
“What’s that?” Mom asked.
“A receipt that was in the dead man’s pocket.”
She didn’t ask how it came to be in my possession but leaned over to read it. “Looks like he was killing time near the Four Seasons Hotel.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, that’s where this market is, and that’s a lot of junk food. Anyone you know staying at the Four Seasons?”
“Ah, Randy Mann could have been staying at the Four Seasons. That sounds like his kind of hotel. But how did you know where this market was?”
Mom rolled her eyes. “I have eyes. You don’t have to shop somewhere to know where it’s located.” She tapped the receipt. “Besides, the address is right there on the receipt. And if I knew someone I wanted to talk to was staying at the Four Seasons, I might wait out on the street or in my car until he showed up. I mean, you could hang around the lobby but that would be a bit conspicuous. Especially if you were eating junk food. And waiting for someone to show when you don’t know what time they will arrive is boring, right? Isn’t that what you say about stakeouts?”
My mother the detective was out-detecting her daughter. If Jim had hung around the hotel until he managed to catch up with Mann that would explain both the receipt and the phone number in Jim’s pocket. And maybe when he finally caught up with Mann, he overplayed his hand. Then again, their meeting might have had nothing to do with Jim’s murder. But if P.W. was right and Jim had been trying to make some money off Brian’s research, it was certainly a convenience to the Mann family when he was removed from play.
“Thank you, Mom. That’s brilliant. I mean it.” I turned toward the living room and yelled, “Yuri. Come in here when you get a chance.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Mom replied with a touch of sarcasm. She handed me my tea and continued puttering around the kitchen, probably to give herself an excuse to listen in on the conversation I was about to have with Yuri. Since she was the one who had come up with the theory, I felt she deserved listening rights.
Yuri came in and took a chair at the table. “Look at what Mom pointed out.” I handed him the receipt. “Jim purchased this at a market just down the street from the Four Seasons—”
“Where Randy Mann might be staying,” Yuri finished for me. “That’s easy enough to check out.”
“I need to call Connolly again.”
“Did you tell him about someone shooting at us?”
“I didn’t get through; I left a message.”
I clicked on his number and was surprised when he answered on the second ring. “Sorry for calling so late. Something has come up since I left you a message earlier. Yuri’s here. I’m putting you on speaker.” We quickly filled him in on our visit to Jim’s, finding his body, and being shot at. Then Yuri waited for me to explain about the receipt, and I hesitated, struggling to think of a way to mask the fact that I had taken something from a dead man’s pocket at the scene of a crime.
Connolly took our silence as a sign that we had finished telling him what we had called for. “I’ll get in touch with the officers covering the homicide,” he said. “Not sure there is much we can do about a possible shooter. It’s doubtful they would find any evidence without a massive search of the area. And since you aren’t certain where the shots originated from…” He left the thought hanging.
Yuri motioned for me to continue. “Right. But there’s one more thing. We, ah, have reason to believe that Jim may have talked with Randy Mann last night outside the hotel where Mann may be staying. You can check that out. If we’re right, there could be someone who saw them, or maybe there are cameras in the area. You might want to follow up on that.”
“You have reason to believe…?”
“Well,” I said, struggling to find words to get out the facts without confessing to more than necessary in the process. “I might have looked at Jim’s cell phone texts. And…we might have found Randy Mann’s phone number on a piece of paper, as well as a receipt that suggests Jim was near the Four Seasons not too long before he was killed.”
“I’m not going to ask you to say more now. But you’d better be prepared to answer some questions tomorrow.” Connolly did not sound pleased. “And you might want to consult a lawyer.”
“But you will follow up,” I said to make sure. I didn’t want to feel like I had committed a crime for nothing.
“Yes. Of course.” After a brief pause, he added, “Anything else I should know?”
“That’s it,” I quickly assured him.
“I’ll be in touch tomorrow.” He hung up without saying goodbye.
Mom sat down at the table. “It sounds to me like you’ve crossed a line and Detective Connolly is not happy with you.”
“You are so perceptive, Mom.”
“Don’t use that tone with me, Cameron. I’m simply stating the obvious.”
“Sorry, you’re right, Mom. I intended to put the papers back but didn’t get a chance.”
“You didn’t need to look in a dead man’s pockets in the first place,” Mom said pointedly.
Yuri jumped in to defend me. “It was actually very sharp of her to recognize his jacket. And if I’d seen it and knew it belonged to Jim, I would have done the same thing. Although,” he grinned, “I wouldn’t have been caught.”
I made a face at him, and Mom shook her head. Then, having listened in to our conversation with Connolly and made her disapproval known, Mom said she was going to retire for the evening. When Yuri suggested she should make certain that all of her windows were locked, she rolled her eyes at us and mumbled something about how her life was turning into an episode from Law & Order.
Yuri and I joined the kids in watching part of a movie before Yuri fell asleep and I tactfully suggested to Jason and Mara that we all call it a night. Mom had left a pile of sheets and blankets next to the couch for Yuri to use. I managed to wake him up to let him know it was time to go to bed and offered to help make up the sofa. He waved me off, grabbed a blanket and fell back onto the couch. “I’ve got this.”
“Don’t fall asleep on your gun and accidently shoot yourself,” I said instead of wishing him pleasant dreams.