TWENTY

Janie stood on Betsy Ann’s stoop, about to knock, when she heard George’s baritone voice behind her. “Hey, pretty lady. Do I have the pleasure of your company as well this afternoon?”

She smiled. “Only for a bit before she drags you shopping.”

He rocked back and laughed. “Well, I need Betsy Ann’s expertise. I have no idea what to buy a twelve-year-old going on thirty.”

Janie shrugged. “Who does? Betsy Ann will have a clue, though.”

As if on cue, Betsy Ann opened the door all smiles and cheek dimples. Janie caught a twinkle in George’s eyes.

George rocked on his heels. “Hello, my dear. My, don’t you look positively enchanting today.”

Betsy Ann’s cheeks reddened. “Are you two coming in, or are all three of us headed out?”

George knitted his eyebrows.

Janie sniggered. “Betsy Ann volunteered you both to accompany me into West Woods. It shouldn’t take more than an hour. While we walk, I want you two to recall step by step what you saw that night.”

“But you were there as well.”

“True, George. But you may recall something I don’t.”

Betsy Ann closed her door and edged toward George’s ear. “She’s been commissioned by Chief Gates to investigate.”

“Well, well. We have come up in the world.” George shook Janie’s hand.

Janie cocked her head. “It’s not in an official capacity. Blake’s in charge of getting the internal affairs investigation well underway before he leaves on vacation, so Jonathan, er, Chief Gates has asked me to do a little bit of info gathering on the burglary.”

George winked and mouthed the name “Jonathan” to Betsy Ann who in return pressed her lips together, obviously to avoid a giggle from escaping.

Janie chose to ignore their reaction and waltzed down the sidewalk.

They strolled down the block to Sunrise Court, and then onto the golf course. Along the way, Janie asked them to describe the man who ran by them. Their vagueness matched her own.

“Why do you want to know?” George halted and waited for her answer.

“Because, we all assumed, if I may venture to say, he was one of the burglars. What if he was a plain-clothed cop?”

Her two friends turned to each other, wide-eyed.

Janie lifted her chin. “Exactly. We can’t be sure.”

“If he wasn’t one of the burglars, then...?”

“Then, Betsy Ann, he was headed in the direction he saw one of them escape. Which doesn’t jibe.”

George snapped his fingers. “Because the robber was shot in the West Woods, south of the golf course.”

“Correct. So, he would have changed directions and crossed the creek. I want to see if we can find out where.” She screwed her mouth to one side. “Of course, there may be another scenario.”

George flashed her a puzzled expression. “What?”

“Wellington could have been the third burglar. Perhaps the driver of the van? He ran when the gunshots sounded. Which means the second burglar got away.”

“Would not the police already have determined that, Janie?”

“Possibly, George. Can’t be sure. Wellington didn’t match the description of the man we saw. So, either the man we saw was a third suspect or a cop.” She stopped at the edge of the golf course and shaded the sun from her eyes. “Let’s say Wellington ran south instead of west, which would put him in the vicinity of the woods. Would any of the neighbors along Sunrise Court have heard him? Perhaps one of their dogs reacted?”

George huffed. “With all the sirens and commotion, I imagine every pooch in the community was howling.”

Janie’s shoulders slumped. “True. There must be some way to determine where he went.”

He pointed. “I surmise he followed the creek. He may have even waded in it to hide his scent, just like in the movies.”

“Then so shall we.”

“Wade in the creek?” Betsy Ann looked at her slinky, rhinestone sandals. “I don’t think so. Not in these.”

Janie shoved her hands to her hips. “I told you I wanted to scope out the woods. Why didn’t you wear your tennis shoes?”

She pouted. “I forgot.”

Janie felt her face heat. “Since George has come into the picture, your brain has often left. Never mind.”

Betsy Ann narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Come on, George. We have shopping to do.” She yanked him by the arm and began to stomp back to the condos.

Janie harrumphed and walked in the opposite direction toward the creek, her breaths short and sharp through her nose. Oh, how that woman could get on her nerves. She stomped her foot and felt a sharp pain. It raced to her heart and tore it a tiny bit. It reminded her how helpful Betsy Ann had been when her hurt ankle laid her up. The giggles they’d shared over the years and the fun Bunco games. The morning power walks and conversations about everything and nothing at all. As she searched the ground for any clue someone had passed by the creek, she ignored the emotional ache. But her conscience niggled her more and more. She stopped, pulled out her phone and speed dialed Betsy Ann’s number.

“Yes?” Her friend’s voice quivered a bit.

“Oh, Betsy Ann. I’m so very sorry. That was horrid of me.”

“It’s OK, Janie.”

“No, no it’s not.” She leaned against a tree. “Truth is, I think I’m a tad jealous of the fact you have George in your life.”

“What about Jonathan?” She sang-sung his name.

“I have no earthly idea what you mean.” Her anger rose again, but she swallowed it down. “Look, you two have fun at the mall. I hope you find his niece the perfect present. And apologize to George for me too, OK?”

Her voice softened. “I will. And I hope you find a good clue. See you tomorrow morning for our walk?”

“Sure thing,” Janie clicked off. The tightness in her chest eased.

She spotted something reflecting the sunshine in the stream. She bent over the bank and reached under the shallow current in between wedges of river stones. Her hands grasped a small, rectangular object. She yanked it out and rose to her feet.

A cell phone. What on earth? Could it be a burner that someone chucked during the chase?

~*~

Arnie rubbed his hand down his face. The dispatch radio lit up with every police force in the area calling in their men and women to report pronto. Figures. Explains why both perps had to buy it and Joe as well. Too many tongues might wag, and the whole plan would explode like a spray can in the noonday summer sun. He texted a message. Problem with radio. Need repair ASAP.

The response came within a minute. Wires faulty. Bring it to repair shop in three hours.

He pocketed the phone, left a substantial tip on the counter next to his half-eaten cheeseburger and strolled out of the diner. Things were turning sour too fast. Had the boss anticipated this?

He could disobey orders and disappear. Trouble was, he needed the last installment in order to do that. Ten thousand for this job meant all the difference in his life. He’d already wired the first five to the loan shark to partially cover his gambling debt. Two more were due by midnight tomorrow or his family would be in danger. He didn’t doubt the threat. He’d seen what this guy’s goons could do. Filed many an investigative report on their handiwork in the past, so he knew full well they didn’t bluff.

That would leave three―enough for his wife to get by for a few months while he lived off the streets in some big metropolis. Best way to become invisible. He’d hop a bus and head to Los Angeles or New York. In a year or so he could surface and land a minimum wage job where they did little background checks, if any. Fast food or day labor. Not how he planned his life to turn out, but it would have to do.

His wife and kids deserved better than the loser he’d become. Time to cut bait. He reached his hand inside his jacket pocket and felt the divorce papers he’d paid a not-so-reputable attorney to draw up. Best all around.

Arnie spread the folds out against the side of the building and scrawled his name. He refolded it and stuffed it back in the envelope. On the way out of town, he’d drop that and the cash in the mail slot for her to find.

Arnie pinched his nose to stave off the tears and walked down the street, away from his life.