A squad car pulled into the driveway with lights flashing but no siren. Josh had made clear to the 911 operator everyone was safe. Thinking of Helen, he knew this was a lie. One of the police officers stood in the doorway while the other circled the house with his flashlight hitting every corner and tree. Josh kept looking at the equipment on the officer’s belt. Handcuffs, flashlight, nightstick and a few things he didn’t recognize. But Josh’s eyes kept returning to the gun. He’d only shot a rifle a couple of times, in sleepover camp thirty years ago, and never a handgun. His feelings about not having a gun in the house were changing.
The cop in the entryway had already been back to the guest bedroom, surprising Josh by carefully wiping his feet before stepping on the carpet. He didn’t touch anything except to turn on the light once he was sure Crawford was dead. He looked around the room then back at Josh. No comment. With the lights on, the scene was even harsher than Josh had imagined. Crawford’s body seemed to fill the space, incongruous in the simply furnished room with queen bed, bookshelves, dresser, and work desk. Allison’s backpack had been knocked over, and various hair-manipulating tools were scattered around the floor. A bottle of contact solution had fallen off the dresser and somehow landed upright near Crawford’s outstretched hand, looking like he was about to grab it.
The officer, Pollack his badge said, asked if could look around the rest of the house. He had already met Allison, who was still in the kitchen. Josh told him to help himself.
As Pollack headed toward the front door, Allison came down the hallway. She didn’t even look in on Crawford. “Time to talk. Let’s go.” She didn’t look like she was going to let Josh put her off any longer, but he needed to wait until the police had finished. He was still unsure what he was going to tell them.
“Just a little while longer. Please – just trust me.” She gave him a look that said he wasn’t going to get a lot of leeway. But she followed him back to the entryway. There was a sharp rap on the front door. Expecting the other officer, Josh reached around Pollack to get it but the cop stepped in front to get there first. When the policeman opened the door, instead of seeing another cop in uniform there were two people in street clothes. Josh was confused for a minute until the man flashed a badge at Pollack.
“What’ve we got?” he asked Pollack, but looking at Josh. The police officer gave him a three-sentence summary. The man stepped in and put his hand out. “Detective Crevins. Why don’t you tell me what happened.”
Josh shook his hand and it was strong and dry. Crevins was all business and looked like Josh’s idea of a police detective. Cleanly pressed suit, stern look that inspired confidence, and enough gray at his temple to suggest experience. He took in Josh’s sister’s face and seemed to understand immediately. He put his hand on her arm and smiled slightly.
“It’s okay now, Miss Barnes. You’re safe.”
Allison looked at him and her face went tight. “Everybody keeps telling me that, but there’s a dead man in the room where I sleep. He could have killed both of us. I don’t feel particularly safe!” She shot Josh a look that said the leeway was getting even less now.
Crevins kept smiling, like a therapist talking to a patient. “Yes, ma’am. This has been a horrifying experience. But you ARE safe now. We’ll have to ask you a few questions, and there will be a medical examiner and crime scene crew getting here soon. It’s going to get noisy and there will be a bunch of people, so let’s chat while it’s still pretty calm.”
Allison looked less angry, but not mollified. Before anyone could say anything else, a woman in street clothes who had been standing next to Crevins and had been having a whispered conversation with Pollack stepped in. Josh could see that Pollack treated her deferentially.
“Let’s go into the living.” She didn’t introduce herself, just gave the order. Crevins gently turned Allison toward the living room. The female detective led the way, as though she had been here a hundred times and was right at home. She wore tailored gray pants and a robin’s egg blue blouse. Slim in the hips but with strong legs, she carried herself like a woman who’d taught herself to walk like a man. She swaggered her narrow shoulders, unencumbered by the leather holster looped over her right arm and shoulder that held a smaller, darker gun than the one Josh had seen in Pollack’s belt. She sat on the couch and started while the rest looked for a place to sit.
“I’m Detective Rigas.” She pointed the notebook in her left hand at Josh and said “let’s start with you. What happened?”
Josh looked at Crevins. He nodded. “Don’t you want to see him? The body?” Josh asked, confused.
Rigas looked at him hard, no patience or sympathy. “Tell me what happened.”
Josh liked Crevins better. “Like I told the officer, I came home and heard a noise. I saw a man crossing from the spare bedroom into the guest room where my sister slept. I ran down there. He attacked me and I fought back.”
“That’s the Reader’s Digest version. Tell me exactly what happened, starting with why you came home so late. Tell it like I wasn’t here. Details.”
Josh looked at Allison, not sure she needed to hear this. But she had already seen most of it. Josh hadn’t made any kind of decision about how much to tell the police about Crawford and Helen, so he started with why he was out of town, making it sound like a regular business trip. Then he described every detail he could think of about getting home, from undressing to the flicker of light and the shadow passing into Allison’s room. When he described Crawford’s attack, Rigas looked at his neck. Josh had put on a hooded sweatshirt and zipped it all the way up, covering part of the bruising. When he told about the trophy, she wrinkled her brow.
“Unzip your sweatshirt.”
“What?” he didn’t understand.
“Show me.”
Josh pulled down the zipper, realizing she wanted to see the blood. She didn’t say anything. He looked down and felt the same way he had in Allison’s room a few minutes ago – in the full light of the living room he looked like a butcher, or victim. He pulled the zipper back up, close around his neck.
“Let’s look at the body. Miss Barnes, you stay here with Pollack. Mr. Barnes, come with me.”
An order again. They followed, Crevins bringing up the rear. Rigas didn’t wipe her feet. In the doorway to Allison’s room she stopped and looked around. Going in, she used her pen to poke around Crawford’s body, then crossed the room and looked at it all from a different angle. The piece of wire Josh pulled off his neck at the end of the struggle was on the floor. The marble base of the trophy was on the ground near the body where it had broken off. The rest was next to the dresser where Josh had finally dropped it. Rigas squatted down next to Crawford’s misshapen head. She looked up at Josh, the stare even harder than before.
“You did this? He’s a pretty big guy.” She sounded doubtful, but not in the polite way you ask your kids if they really ate all their vegetables. It was more accusatory, like she didn’t buy this at all.
Josh was still confused by the approach, but he was starting to get his wits about him. And his anger was starting to rise.
“Two feet from my sister, Detective. Do you have people you care about? He could have been a goddamned giant…I wasn’t going to let him come in here and kill my sister.”
Her look didn’t waver. “You were thorough.”
Josh felt like a bug about to be pinned to a wall. Rigas was smart – not just about what she saw, but what she didn’t see. He had nothing to hide about what had happened; he was defending himself and his sister. But he still wasn’t sure what to do about Helen, and he didn’t want to be forced into a decision trying to answer her questions.
“I’d still be smashing his head now if I thought he weren’t dead. Do you think I should have stopped to see if he was okay? Maybe get some bandages and ice for him?” Josh tried to hold his anger at her tone in check.
He looked at Crawford and felt nothing. She followed his stare. “Did you know him?” Out of the blue. Was this a standard question or had she seen something? It was slow motion for Josh again as he decided how he wanted to answer.
“No, I’ve never seen him.”
“You sure?” She didn’t sound like it was a standard follow-up question. There’s no such thing as a real polygraph; lie detectors are bullshit. But cops were different. They seemed to know when they were being lied to. He could see in her eyes that she wondered.
“He’s not anyone I know or have seen before. He’s not the mailman, or the pool guy, or someone who’s delivered plants to the house. I’ve never seen him before.” This time his anger was a little forced, at least Josh felt that way, and he wasn’t sure if she could tell.
“So you’re sure. He’s pretty messed up, the blood and the caved-in head and all. Maybe if we cleaned him up he’d be familiar?”
The beating had made it hard to recognize Crawford’s face, which Josh realized when Allison was looking at him earlier. She wouldn’t recognize him from the neighborhood that day Helen had taken the picture. He was dressed differently, too – slacks and wool shirt instead of the odd suit.
“Maybe, but I don’t think so. Can we get out of here now?” She didn’t buy that Josh was upset by looking at him. She took her time getting up.
“I hear the crime guys coming up the drive. They’ll need an hour to poke around. Let’s go talk to your sister.”
This time she didn’t push by but looked at Josh and waited. He held her look, then turned and went past Crevins who had been silent during the exchange. Josh had made the decision. He would not tell about Helen. He didn’t know what she would do. Maybe killing Crawford meant he and Allison would both be murdered now as punishment. Or maybe it didn’t matter and just getting her the design would make it all okay. Josh didn’t know and he couldn’t take a chance. He would have to deal later with the consequences of lying to the police. He needed to get through the next few hours, figure out a plan, and get in touch with Helen. Her first threat had been real: get the design by Friday or they would kill Allison. Josh wouldn’t doubt her again.
------------------------
Three hours later, the house was empty of strangers. The uniformed cops left last, after the coroner took Crawford’s body out the back way through the garage. There was no yellow police ribbon like you see in the movies. This wasn’t a crime scene, it was a tragic case of self defense. Pictures were taken and Allison and Josh were asked every conceivable question. Rigas and Crevins had left a while ago, Crevins giving Josh his sympathy and his card; Rigas just giving him a long stare. Josh was anxious to be alone for a few minutes so he could get his thoughts together and decide what to do. Lying to Rigas was a commitment, now he needed to follow through. What that meant wasn’t clear, but he had to start by making sure Allison was out of danger. He would have to explain it to her.
Josh practiced the conversation he imagined having with Allison, a habit that was starting to worry him as he began noticing how as he got older, these conversation were sometimes taking place out loud instead of just in his head. It didn’t sound so convincing as he rehearsed it, knowing it would seem absurd to Allison:
“Allison, the man I beat to death has a partner. They want something from my work and were going to kill you because I was late giving it to them. I don’t know what the partner will do now; she’s a very scary woman. I’ve decided to try to do what she wants and not get the police involved. That’s what she told me to do.”
Like he was telling her he was going to change the oil in the car himself instead of taking it to a mechanic. Why wouldn’t he just go to the police? Josh knew Helen was serious. Killing Crawford probably didn’t change what she wanted and more likely made her more dangerous. He had no doubt she would take the Ventrica design and follow through on her threats. She was psychotic, he saw that, but was she more attached to her equally crazy partner or her business? If it was the latter, then Josh had to continue to follow her instructions despite the horror of last night. That meant telling no one.
There was only one way to be sure. He would follow through, deliver the Ventrica, and see what she would do. If Allison were safely away, somewhere no one could find her, he could take the chance Helen wouldn’t seek revenge and this was just business. He could always bring the police in if it spiraled out of control.
Josh found Allison in the guest bedroom, cleaning up. The large bloodstain on the floor didn’t phase her – she was back in charge. Picking up the items that had been strewn across the room, the heard him coming down the hall and stopped what she was doing when he got to the door.
“You really should go to the hospital.”
Josh shook his head. His voice had come back completely and, despite the ugliness of the cut on his throat, the only real discomfort came from the ache in the back of his neck. Being lifted off your feet as Crawford had done strained every muscle in Josh’s neck and it would be days before he could fully turn his head without some pain. Allison sat on the edge of the bed and fixed him with a stare.
“Cut the baloney. What’s going on? And don’t give me the story about not knowing the guy.” She had sympathy in her eyes, but stronger was the desire to know what the hell was going on so she could do something about it. Josh hesitated, knowing she would feel guilty when she understood she had been the target, that she was the weakness Crawford and Helen were using to get to him. Josh looked at his feet, around the room, then to the stain on the floor. His gaze settled on his sister, who shared the same piercing eyes.
“You’re not going to believe this,” was his start. And he explained what had happened starting that night in Minneapolis earlier in the week. Allison’s eyes got wide, like she was watching a television show where something unbelievable and scary was happening. But as Josh got to the part about coming home and finding Crawford, her look narrowed. She was pissed, like Josh had been angry when he realized he was being threatened.
“Call the police. Right now, call that detective, Crevins. Josh, goddamnit, do it now.”
Josh shook his head. “She’d know Crawford didn’t get to you. This woman will keep coming, she’ll find a way. And if I call in the police, then she’ll know I’m never going to give her the Ventrica. The only way out is to give it to her. And I can’t do that if you’re in danger.” He said this as firmly as he could, knowing exactly what her response would be.
“That isn’t happening. This psycho broke into your house, tried to kill me, and is threatening you. I’m sticking around and I’m gonna help you deal with this.”
“I get it, and I appreciate it. But this isn’t open for debate – you’ll be more hindrance than help. I’m sorry. That’s it.”
Allison saw the resolve and was not happy. She mulled how hard she wanted to push, and despite the instinct to fight, she was also very afraid.
“Okay. I’ll go. But it needs to be somewhere not too far away so I can get back if I need to. And it has to be somewhere they can’t find me.”
Josh knew she’d already made a decision about what she would do and was just prepping him.
“I’ll go stay with George.” She said it with a smile, an inside joke. And it was. George was an ex-boyfriend. She’d met him years earlier during a spiritual, touchy-feely phase in her life. Josh hadn’t particularly approved, but she didn’t give him much say in the matter. She had broken up with George when he underwent a sudden and disconcerting change. After a career as a new-age seminar guru, teaching people to get in touch with their inner child and convincing companies to pay a lot of money for their executives to walk around the woods naked and build trust, he had gone on some sort of spiritual journey in the Arizona desert. That wasn’t the strange part. Instead of coming back with clues on levitation and how to squeeze more people into his weekend retreats at $5,000 a head, he returned with an epiphany. George saw the end of the world coming, and it was going to start with the government taking away everyone’s rights. He turned into a classic survivalist. A Unabomber who did yoga and Pilates. Living in a hand-made wood cabin somewhere in the Angeles Forest, he hunted for his food, grew vegetables, bathed periodically, and kept an arsenal hidden in the woods. Allison knew this because, ironically, he also kept a cell phone and every so often gave her a ring to catch up. Only in California. She wanted to go stay with this crazy guy who, for all Josh knew, would indoctrinate her into his conspiracy-theory universe and make her one of half a dozen unshaven, butter-churning hippie brides. But Josh also saw the wisdom of her solution. No one knew about George. No one would think to look there. And if they did, George would shoot them.
Josh thought this all through quickly. Better the devil you know.
“You sure you want to eat wood chuck burgers?” Allison didn’t think this funny. He squeezed her shoulder and said “one week. I promise..”
They talked about what to pack and the logistics of getting there. It felt good to have a plan, if only a partial plan. What he would do once she was gone was less clear.
They had to move fast. Allison went to a local grocery store to call George. Josh didn’t know if Helen or someone was watching them or listening in to calls. While she was gone, he packed the SUV. Food, blankets, clothes…enough for a month at least, even though he told Allison a week. The packing happened with the garage door closed to avoid prying eyes. Allison came back, ready to leave after having had her conversation with George. She looked excited.
Not being a very good secret agent but having seen enough episodes of The Rockford Files, Josh drove the SUV to a nearby neighborhood and had Allison follow five minutes later. They switched cars on a deserted street, Josh craning his neck in all directions to be sure they were alone. He gave Allison a quick hug and made sure she had directions. He had George’s phone number memorized. She wouldn’t come back until Josh called.
“Careful, Josh. I mean it.” She pulled away. Josh felt the determination drain out of him as the car went around a bend in the road. What the hell did he think he was doing?