Sam convinced Jake to put more guards on Tamara’s hospital room, should Gary try to prevent Tamara from talking when she wakes up. She promised Jake she would go directly home, but after she stopped at Java the Hut to unwind. Anger built as Sam remembered Marti and the other women and the way they had died. Their only fault was being involved with the Morning Glory Clinic. An image of Savannah came to mind and she had to fight back tears as well.
She studied the menu on the wall. What was it Tamara liked to drink? Caramel latte. Sam placed her order with the barista who had so much metal in his eyebrows it made her wince. She was wondering how many people in the café were there the night Tamara ran in front of the bus when she heard the sound. Click…click. She turned slowly. A man was seated in the corner wearing a beret and a button down sweater with patches, as though he were a visiting professor or artist from England. He was doing a good job of changing his appearance. He was holding the paper open with one hand while his other hand played with a remote key. Click…click.
Sam moved a few steps away and pulled out her cell phone. She smiled and told the metal eyebrows to add extra whipped cream. With her back to the faux professor she sent a quick text message to Jake.
I’m at Java the Hut. He’s here.
Jake sent a quick text back.
Don’t do anything.
He knew her way too well.
Sam accepted her latte and slowly moved toward a table by the window, weighing her options. What pretext could she give to stop and talk to him? Click…click. That sound was really getting irritating. But she didn’t need a pretext. He made the first move.
The Professor stood. “Excuse me. Could I talk to you?”
Oh, shit. Sam was hesitant. She didn’t have to fake that.
He pulled out a chair. “I saw you come out of the clinic across the street.”
Was he using the same line she had used with Tamara? Sam looked at the chair, then at him. He took off his sunglasses and smiled. He had the lightest blue eyes, almost like looking through blue ice. Sam didn’t know why but she felt herself smile back and promptly sit down. Click…click. The doctors were right. Gary used the remote as a metronome instead of a pendulum. Sam also noticed he never blinked and she could swear his irises were circling like some spiraling kaleidoscope.
“I don’t mean to pry. Please, drink your coffee. It looks good.”
Without realizing it, Sam’s hand brought the cup to her mouth and she took a sip. How could he be that effective that quickly? Sam had always prided herself for being in control.
“Those men you were with, are they cops?” He took a sip of his own coffee.
Sam tried to focus, tried to mentally document what was happening. She had to try to keep her mind busy. “Yes, they were interviewing the owners of the clinic,” Sam heard herself say.
“But they didn’t arrest them?” The professor leaned closer, his eyes penetrating. Click…click.
“They aren’t the ones the police want.” Sam didn’t want to tell him anything but the words were spilling out as though dancing on a string that he was pulling. Then something strange started to happen. She heard a drum beat, slow at first. It drowned out the clicking of the remote Gary held in his hand. The beat increased in rhythm and volume but Sam was sure she was the only one who could hear it. She was no longer in the café but on the back acres of her property, looking down on several figures pounding out a rhythm, breaking Gary’s control on her mind. The images swirled and danced, then faded. She held Gary’s gaze then smiled as she said, “You are.”
“Gary Staples?”
Gary snapped his attention over Sam’s shoulder. Jake and Frank had arrived.
<><>
“Gary Allen Staples. Why the name change to Gary Allen?” Frank asked.
Jake leaned against the wall preferring to study the suspect. There wasn’t anything outstanding or remarkable about him. He could be a next door neighbor or delivery man. Definitely not in the class of the Reveres and Bordeaus.
“I had a life-changing event happen in my life, lost a lot of weight. New me, new name. Tried to shed the old persona I had developed.” Gary had been very forthcoming with all of their questions. A little too cooperative in Jake’s mind.
“Been to the Morning Glory Clinic lately?”
“No. Not for at least a year.” Gary smiled, a man with little to fear. “Looked up some old college buddies, see if they needed help. But you knew that.”
Frank lined up the photos of the victims. “Do you know any of these women?”
Gary took his time studying each photo then shook his head no. “Sorry, I don’t.”
“You never struck up a conversation with any of them, maybe in a park, on a walking trail?”
“No. Why, did someone say they saw me with any of them?”
Frank placed a photo of Tamara Rios in front of Gary, a photo of her in her hospital bed. “What about her?”
Gary glanced at it and tapped his finger on the photo. “Yes. I’ve seen her at the coffee shop a couple times. Brian behind the counter said she was the one hit by a bus the other night.”
Jake saw their case starting to unravel, not that they had much of a case to begin with. He pushed away from the wall. “I understand you are pretty good with hypnosis.”
“I had fun with it in my college days. Is that what Austin and Matt told you?”
“Viola Williams, too. The professor who lost her job because some test scores were falsified,” Jake said.
“Bad break.” Gary’s comment may have sounded sincere but his smile said the doctors deserved everything they got.
“And that doesn’t bother you in the least?” Jake would like to lock him up just because he was annoying.
“From what I hear their rich fathers paid her to change the grades so, no, I don’t feel sorry for her.”
“You’ve lived above the coffee shop since you moved to Chasen Heights?” Frank made a checkmark on his notepad.
Gary shrugged. “What’s a guy gonna do? Wasn’t left with much after my divorce.”
“But you could have gotten a better job than security guard, what with your intelligence and degree. Accountant, then a top car salesman. That hypnosis must have come in handy convincing people to buy cars. And your ex-wife. What a babe. You snatched her even before you lost all that weight.” Frank smiled, showing a lot of teeth.
“What can I say? I have a great personality.” Gary finally shifted his gaze to Jake as if to say your turn. But Jake said nothing.
Frank picked up a set of keys Gary had placed on the table when he emptied his pockets. “Besides your apartment key, got a key here for your locker at work?”
“Got a search warrant?”
“Working on it. Would be quicker if you just gave us your permission but now we have to wait for the judge to return from a conference.” Frank set the keys down and smiled his all-tooth smile. “You get to be our guest for a while.”
“You never told me what the charges are.”
Frank waved his hand over the four pictures dotting the table. “Why murder, my man.” He paused, his hand over Tamara’s picture. “And attempted murder.”
“Guess this is where I say, ‘I want a lawyer.’”