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I almost made it through the whole night with no nightmares, but sometime just before dawn I began dreaming about the gut-shot judge lying in a pool of his own blood. While I watched, the judge's face changed into Clive's face. As he died, I was immediately back once more, living through my last day in that house. Clive and Alice had left early. This was unusual, since they normally weren't even up much before noon. For days, I'd had a hidden bag packed and ready. I'd secreted everything I could think of to incriminate them in different locations around the house. It was the perfect time to make my escape.
First, I called the police and reported child abuse at their house. I laid it on pretty thick, hoping they'd come and search the place before my guardians got home. Then I took one last look around, reassuring myself there was plenty of evidence for the cops to find, and stepped out the side door. Before I was even out of the yard, Clive and Alice drove their old van into the driveway. I quickly hunkered down behind a large oleander hedge just as the van door opened and Alice said, “I'll wait here. You can go drag her out.”
Clive said, “No, you need to come along. She'll be a lot less suspicious if we both approach her. She tries to avoid me like the plague.”
Grumbling, she got out of the car, and they both entered the house through the door right next to my hiding spot. The only thought running through my head was how I'd almost delayed my escape until it was too late. What should I do now? I had planned well, and if I ran now, they would probably never find me, but when they discovered I was missing, they might also take off before the cops got there. If they escaped, it wouldn't be long until some other child was suffering. Did I care, or did I just want to be free? I woke up with my hands covering my head just as they had that day when I'd hidden in the barbed bushes, not knowing what to do next.
Determined as always to think through and face the dream, I lay in bed, going over it in my mind. I was getting close to the last moments of that chapter of my life. I was both nervous and hopeful that once I'd dreamed the ending, I wouldn't have any more nightmares.
Forcefully putting the dream behind me, I rose to face a new day. I spent the entire morning putting together packets of information for John and Ted. John would understand what he had, no matter how I sent it, but I wanted the reporter to have chronological, easy-to-follow information. It was mid-afternoon when I called the messenger service and had the packets delivered. At that point, I considered my involvement over and done. I needed to turn my attention to acquiring my client's book and to catching a serial killer, not to mention finding out who was trying to kill me. I decided the serial killer couldn't act until he located his next victim, so it would be safe to get the book first. That job shouldn't take long.
Toward that end, I set off for an address in Glenfield Park where my information indicated the book was located. I wanted to check the layout so I'd know how to proceed. The town was small, the streets lined with trees, and mixed in with the shade trees were date palms covered with bunches of dates nearly ready to harvest. The area screamed money, but I was still surprised when the address I was searching for turned out to be a large estate located just north of town. A little research showed me that this wild, overgrown acreage once belonged to Carl Lewiston, who had been responsible for developing a world-famous country club, as well as the town’s major tire and rubber plant, a huge conglomerate called Glenfield Farms, all in the area around Glenfield. The Lewiston ranch had been controlled by the town since the owner’s death and was slowly going to rack and ruin while awaiting restoration. The town had been named after Carl's wife, Glenda. She had died one year to the day before her husband. Now the estate looked like no one had lived there for years, although someone must be watering the vegetation. But they certainly weren't giving it any tender-loving care. My information about the location of the book I was seeking was rock solid, so some of the estate's original library must still be on site. I had to assume there would be at least one caretaker living on the property, since it didn't seem logical the town would leave the estate completely abandoned. My first move would have to be getting someone to check the place out. I needed to know how many people were living on the property and to find out as much as possible about their routine. I specifically wanted to know when I could be certain there would be a block of time when no one would be around. To my dismay, just driving by I could see two or three huge dogs wandering the fenced property. I am not fond of big dogs.
On the drive home, I stopped for coffee in Tollison and used my cell phone to call Arnie Flagen. Arnie didn't owe me any favors, so I knew I'd have to pay for his time, but my fee for obtaining the book would erase the pain. Arnie was always reliable, and I'd used his services before. I kept trying to find a way to get him in my debt, but so far, I hadn't had any luck. Fortunately, my call caught him between jobs and he could start surveillance that same afternoon.
The ten o'clock news that evening was as dull as ever, except that the judge's body had been discovered. From the anchorman's rhetoric, I could tell that so far, the police were clueless. I was sure the news would be more interesting once John got his investigation going and articles started appearing in the newspaper. I only had a passing interest in the investigation's outcome into the judge's death, but the prostitute case was different. I wanted the big boys to receive long prison terms.
While I was waiting for the necessary information regarding the Lewiston property, I began working on locating Devon. I didn't want him to find either of his last two victims before I found him. Since I didn't intend to tell John I was digging into what he considered his murders, I contacted his friend, Detective Hanover, for information. I needed an address and hoped there was something available to the authorities I couldn't find. Right now, John was so busy with the prostitution arrests he didn't need any distraction.
I expected to hear from Detective Hanover the next day, because I didn’t think it would take long for him to get what information he could find, assuming there was anything to find. Even if Devon's address turned out to be false or outdated, it would give me a place to start. It would take Flagen longer to determine if there were any normal routine at the property in Glenfield that would be helpful in finding a time when the place would be empty.
When my doorbell rang the following morning, I expected my visitor to be the messenger delivering whatever information the detective had uncovered. Seeing Kit standing on my doorstep took me completely by surprise. Once we were settled in the living room with cups of coffee and some slightly stale Danish I had picked up the day before, Kit said, “I'm sure you've heard that Judge Cordova was murdered. Do you know anything more about his death?”
“Gee, Kit, are you accusing me of murder? I can assure you I don't know a damn thing about who killed the illustrious judge. You can't expect me to have the inside scoop on every crime that happens in the greater Phoenix area.”
“Now you're being melodramatic. I am definitely not accusing you of murder, but I know you're acquainted with a lot of different kinds of people in this town. I was just wondering if you'd heard anything the authorities didn't know.”
“Ah, now I've been demoted from murderer to informant. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but no one has mentioned anything to me, and I haven't been curious enough to ask.”
“Great, now that we have that out of the way, I have an idea how we can spend the time before I have to be back at the office.”
I'd just barely figured out what he meant before he'd scooped me up and was kissing my neck as he carried me to the bedroom. I said, “Did it ever occur to you that even though you have free time, I might not?”
“Actually, it occurred to me, so I acted before giving you a chance to object.”
His plan was working because he'd slipped his hand inside my shorts and his fingers were causing me to moan before we even reached the bed. When he got to the bedside, he tossed me onto the soft mattress and stood beside the bed, watching me squirm out of my clothes as he slowly and seductively removed his own. Morning sex was a rarity for us, and I expected to feel his weight on top of me as soon as we were naked. Instead, he stood by the bed and watched me. His erection was huge, and I was so turned on by the sight of him and his unexpected attention that unconsciously I began stimulating myself. When he growled softly and moved onto the bed, everything happened quickly. I'd stopped being amazed by how intensely we turned each other on. These days I just worried about how it would all end.
After we'd leisurely showered together and Kit had gone back to his office, I moved to my desk to look through the packet of information he'd found inside the screen door when he'd left. Evidently, the messenger had come while we were occupied. There was still no evidence of a driver's license, but the detective had been resourceful and found out the name of Devon's internet provider and gotten an address that way. The folder also contained a copy of the garbage company's bill for the same address, but there was no phone listed under his name. These were ideas I needed to remember for the future. If the address were a current one, Devon must believe no one suspected him of the murders, because he certainly wasn't making a big effort to cover his tracks.
The folder also contained information about the policeman that had showed up at Judy's death. His name was Floyd Clark. I hadn’t forgotten about his timely arrival the day she died.
After a quick lunch, I drove by to verify whether the address I'd been given was correct. I hoped he really was careless enough to be using his real name and address. If I could find him and put him under surveillance, I would know he wasn't off hunting down the last two people that had been present when his sister died. I wanted to hire Arnie Flagen for that job too, but I wanted to wait until he'd finished up in Glenfield. I knew Arnie could record Devon's movements reliably without being discovered, and I also knew that sometimes it was necessary to rely on someone more morally sound and professionally correct than some of my acquaintances. Arnie was that someone. I'd met him several years earlier at the shooting range. We'd tried dating for a while, but it hadn't worked out, so we'd become good friends instead. He never gave me a discount on his fees, but I knew I could trust him completely.
The house was in Phoenix rather than one of the more opulent suburbs, one of the older ones built to last in an area that once housed wealthy residents. Now it was surrounded by tired-looking shops which boasted about their wares in both Spanish and English. The house I was looking for was on a small residential street. Here the houses and their tiny green yards were well maintained, and one look told me that someone was living at the address I had for Devon. The single-story stucco house was a typical example of an older style of construction evident in its inset windows, wall niches, and red tile roof.
I parked down the street at a house with an old “for sale” sign leaning precariously in the yard where I would have a good view of the residence in question and settled in to wait. Even though it was still technically spring and there was a cool breeze blowing outside, the bright sunshine ensured it was almost instantly stifling inside the darkly painted car. I sighed and rolled down all the windows except the one obscuring my face, hoping to take advantage of the breeze. An hour and a half later, when I was almost lulled to sleep by the sun and the quiet neighborhood, I realized someone had come out of the front door and was walking toward the detached garage by the side of the house.
I could recognize Devon from the pictures I'd seen in the newspaper clippings I'd collected, but he appeared older than his age and lots older than the pictures. I waited until he had backed his tan Chevy pickup out of the garage and pulled away. I didn't follow him since my only goal had been to confirm a current address. He hadn't been carrying a suitcase, so it was unlikely he was leaving town. Now that I had an address, I could put Arnie on Devon's trail as soon as he was free.
Still sleepy from my almost-nap, I stopped at a restaurant on the way home for some delicious Mexican food, a Coke, and several cups of coffee. With nothing pressing to do that evening, I streamed a movie, went to bed early, and slept dream-free, surprised that all the coffee I'd drunk didn't keep me awake.
~ * ~
The following morning, I continued my research on the book I was preparing to steal. My knowledge of all things occult was sketchy. I'd had enough problems dealing with reality and had never delved into magic. Everything I read led me to believe I'd been smart not to waste my time. I discovered that during Mr. Lewiston's life, he'd amassed a huge collection of ancient books on the subject. Since his collection had been moved to a museum bearing his name several years before, I was beginning to doubt my “rock-solid” information.
When Arnie called around eleven, his information didn't help assuage my doubts. He told me that in addition to watching the decrepit house, he had spent time asking discreet questions of the locals. According to local wisdom, everything of value from the estate had been moved to the museum. One caretaker and three dogs were the only ones on the property. They were there mainly to discourage kids from using the place to hook up or shoot up. He'd also discovered the caretaker left the property promptly at seven p.m. three evenings a week to attend AA meetings. The previous evening had been a meeting night and he'd watched the man leave. It had been a few minutes shy of two-and-a-half hours before he'd returned. This was enough information for me to proceed with the book hunt, so I asked Arnie to take on the job of watching Devon, and as soon as we’d agreed on a fee, he accepted the assignment. Now I would be able to relax, knowing Devon couldn't go after anyone else without my knowing.
Arnie had toured the museum during his time in Glenfield. According to him, the place was creepy, whatever that meant, but since I hadn't told him why I needed information, he hadn't paid any special attention to the book collection. I didn't want him to know anything specific he would feel compelled to report to the police if I managed to steal the book and the fact that it had been stolen turned up in the news. It didn't really matter anyway, because I needed to start by searching the house. If nothing turned up there, then the museum would be my next target. Tomorrow night was the next AA meeting, so I would search the house then. The museum seemed like the most likely place, but my informant had never been wrong before.
I had everything I was working on settled by noon, so I decided to treat myself to lunch at one of my favorite restaurants and do a little shopping. It would be nice to have an afternoon and evening free. I was almost out the door when John called. Since his first words were to tell me that this was his first day allowed out of the house but that he wasn't allowed to drive yet, I figured he wanted me to take him somewhere. I said, “Sounds like you're looking for a ride. I'm willing to help you out, but I'm on my way to Gertrude's for lunch and I refuse to give that up. I'll come by and get you, and you can tell me what's on your mind while we eat.”
We arrived early enough to beat the lunch crowd, and as always, I chose to eat on the patio. I love the desert garden feel, and it's much less noisy than eating inside. The food is great, and the noise level allows easy conversation. I've eaten there so often that the hostess automatically took us to my favorite table in a secluded corner of the patio. I laughed and said, “So, Lois, what if I wanted to eat inside today?”
“Yeah, right. The only time I've ever seen you eat inside is the one time you were here when it was pouring rain.”
“I guess I'm going to have to change my habits, as I seem to be getting predictable. How is Manny doing? Is he going to graduate with his class? The last time I was here, you were worried about him passing a physics class he needed.”
“Miracle of miracles, he got a C. He ended up doing a bunch of extra credit to pull his grade up. His new girlfriend is a straight A student, and I’m pretty sure that was a big help to motivate him.”
“I'd bet money you’re right about that. Tell him I said hi, and if he needs any recommendation letters for college, I know where we can get some.”
“Thanks. I'll tell him. He'll probably call you. He still thinks you are the coolest 'old' lady ever.”
When she had us settled and returned to the front of the restaurant, John said, “Do you know everyone in this town?”
“Not quite, yet. I did a little job for Lois and her son last year. He's a good kid that almost made a bad mistake, so I’m relieved to hear he's got his act together.”
We didn't talk business while we ate. The king salmon with clams, shrimp, and mussels, all topped with a green mole sauce, was too good to let anything distract us from enjoying it. We finished our meal with coffee and a brown butter tart. Food just didn't get much better. Sighing with satisfaction, John said, “That was the perfect way to celebrate my first day of freedom. Thanks for letting me tag along.”
“No problem. I enjoyed the company, but I know you didn't call me because you were hungry. What's going on?”
“For me, not much. I'm still not approved for active duty. The department, on the other hand, is a whirlwind of activity. I turned over the information you gathered to my boss, and they are gearing up for multiple arrests. With the media already beginning to talk about the information you gave them, the department can't afford to delay making their move. It looks like your letter idea is working, too, because when the big boys got wind of what's about to happen, there wasn't one attempt to sidetrack things.”
“It's amazing how civic-minded they can be when their asses are on the line. Since your boss doesn't know about the letters, I bet he was surprised when he didn't get a shitload of objections.”
“I'm sure there was a better way to put that, but yes, he was flabbergasted, but pleased. The fallout from all these arrests is going to rock this town. Prostitution will not disappear, but it isn't going to be big business, at least for a while, anyway.”
“I'm glad it's all working out. When do you think the powers-that-be will let you go back to work?”
“I'm not sure. Actually, that's the real reason I called you. I have a meeting with the department shrink this afternoon, and I was hoping you'd drop me at the station. One of the guys will give me a lift home. The doctors say I can go back to normal activity next week, and if I can convince the psychiatrist I'm still sane, I should be able to get back to work soon.”
“Sure, I'll be glad to drop you off. It works out great, because I'm planning an afternoon of shopping not far from there.”
I'd only been in the mall about ten minutes when I spotted Debbie Longworth coming out of a high-end shoe store. I was going to pretend I didn't see her, but she was at my side the minute she spotted me. Her voice close to a whisper, she said, “Hello, Catwoman. I didn't realize superheroes shopped in the same places we normal humans go.”
She looked great. The change from the night I'd met her was major. I laughed. “You need to get over this superhuman idea. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
“Yeah, right. Whatever you say. Actually, I'm glad I ran into you because I've been hearing things on the evening news. If they make the arrests everyone is expecting, I think I should testify in court. I want to be sure the charges stick.”
I pulled her over to a nearby bench and said, “You can get that idea out of your head right now. You've got your life back, but if you make what happened in the past public, everything will change. It will also be for nothing. You need to trust me when I tell you the authorities have everything wrapped up in a nice, neat package. This time the bad guys are going away for a long time. Just stay as far away from the whole mess as you can.”
“I don't think I'd believe anyone else, but if you tell me my testimony isn't needed, I'll take your word for it. It’s my guess you had a lot to do with what's happening, but I also know you won't admit it.”
I sighed in relief when, looking like the kid she is, she said, “I've been scared to death thinking I might need to talk about what happened. I'm glad I don't have to do it.”
“I'm glad too. You can stop worrying about the past—let the grownups handle things.”
“I'll try, but I won't forget I owe you big time. One of these days I'll make us even.”
“We are already even. You don't owe me anything. Just live the good life. The future needs to be your thing, not the past.”
I'm pretty sure she ignored that last part, but I wasn't worried about it. She didn't move in my circles, and I might not run into her again. As I wandered the shops, Debbie's bravery the night I'd taken her and LeAnn Silva out of the Domino Club played through my mind, and I was once again awed by her behavior. Now she'd been prepared to be brave all over again. She was a most unusual and amazing kid.
After the mammoth lunch, supper that night turned out to be a grilled cheese sandwich. Even that seemed like too much food. For once, I got to bed early. Tomorrow night would be busy.