“I don’t remember seeing it among the personal items the hospital gave me, but couldn’t he just get another?”
“Yeah. It’s just that those badges allow drivers access to our administration building after hours. Gwyn will freak out if he learns that it’s missing, and probably blame me and Stan for not knowing about it earlier.”
Yvette grimaced. “Maybe Dad lost it during the scuffle on the bus. Badges are only clipped to lanyards, right? It could have fallen on the floor and slipped under the seat or something.”
“Right.” Casey nodded. “I’ll check it out.” But what if one of Benny’s sons had taken it?
Reese’s door was again closed, the music still blaring. If he’d helped Max set those fires, then her question about Benny’s uniform would be a red flag. And if this was true, then what would the boys do about it?
After Yvette filled in Benny’s personal information, Casey took the sheets and headed for the front door. She tried not to stare at the clutter of mugs, plates, and beer bottles strewn about the living room.
“Thanks for coming by,” Yvette said.
“You’re welcome. I’ll call Benny later in the week.”
“He’d like that.” Yvette’s smile cracked and her expression grew solemn. “I don’t want to belabor the point, but please help us find that Charlie psycho before he strikes again. There’s been enough pain.”
“I’ll do what I can.” She’d already taken a few steps down that slippery slope, but to go any further filled her with misgiving.
Casey strolled down the walkway, noting the older model, dark-green Honda Accord now parked out front. Must belong to Reese. She slowed her pace past the vehicle, noting the food wrappers in the back seat.
As Casey memorized the license plate, she could almost feel Reese’s eyes on her from his bedroom window. She didn’t care. The jerk needed to know that suspicion worked both ways. The entire security team would soon be watching for Max’s and Reese’s vehicles. If the brothers were responsible for the fires and decided to do more damage, she’d make sure they were caught. She just hoped Benny would forgive her.
TWENTY-FIVE
“Your bachelorette spa day’s all set for next Saturday,” Kendal was saying on the phone, “but I’m worried you’ll have to work. In fact, didn’t you have a shift tonight?”
“It’s been a rough week, so Stan gave me the night off.” Seated on the cushion seat in her living room’s bay window, Casey stretched out her legs and told Kendal about busting Liam, the conversation with the homeless man, and her visit with Yvette.
“Look, one more punk off the streets is a win, Casey. You’re making progress.”
“Meanwhile, morale’s crumbling at work. Another driver quit, along with our part-time guard, Zoltan.”
“Sounds like that spa day can’t come soon enough. Meanwhile, how about a movie tonight?”
“Thanks, but I should stay here with Summer. By the way, I found out who she’s been sneaking around with.”
On hearing about Tyler Price, Kendal gave a low whistle. “Is he as sneaky as his loser brother?”
Kendal knew all about Devon. He’d shoplifted from the department store where she worked as a loss prevention officer. No one had realized what he’d done until Summer confessed days later.
“I don’t think Tyler is as bad, but I could be wrong.”
“I wonder how Devon feels about Tyler seeing his ex.”
“No idea, but I’d be happier if the relationship ended soon.”
“As long as you want it to end, then it probably won’t,” Kendal remarked. “Summer’s highly intuitive.”
“Tell me about it.”
Summer had spent the entire evening in her room, declining Casey’s request to join her for dinner. Punishment worked both ways, she supposed. Who knew how long the sulky silent treatment would last?
“There’s something else,” Casey mumbled.
While Casey told her about Rhonda’s cancer diagnosis, she looked out the window. The sun had set a while ago. Casey gazed at the large weeping willow taking up most of the front yard.
“I don’t know what to do, Kendal. It feels wrong to keep Rhonda’s illness from her.”
“Wait till the surgery’s over, then reassess things. If it goes well for her, then Rhonda might feel optimistic enough to have a change of heart.”
Through the willow tree’s branches, Casey saw a small black vehicle stop in front of the house. As Cheyenne and Summer rushed toward the car, Casey leapt to her feet.
“Oh no! A car just pulled up and Summer and her dog climbed inside.”
“Stay cool. Hysterics won’t help, and don’t hang up.”
Phone still in hand, Casey ran out of the apartment and bounded down the stairs. She flung the front door open and dashed outside as the car took off.
“Damn it! She’s gone.”
“Okay, calm down,” Kendal said. “You have some choices here.”
“Is one of them killing Tyler Price?” She rushed back inside. “Because I’m up for that.”
“Come on, girlfriend. Take a moment and breathe.”
Casey preferred action. “I should call the cops and have her picked up. The guy only has his learner’s license. Shouldn’t even have a nonfamily member alone in the car.”
“You’ll be fanning the flames.”
“Kendal, I’m about ready to start a friggin’ bonfire!” She jogged up the porch steps and shut the door. She wanted to slam it, but that would disturb the tenants.
“Come on, Casey. Think this through.”
Casey was too busy hyperventilating to try. “I should drive to his house, see if they’re there.”
“And if they are?”
“I’ll bring her back home. Ground her for life. I don’t know.”
“Uh-huh,” Kendal replied. “Maybe it’s time to think about family counseling.”
Casey’s phone beeped. “I’ve got another call.”
“Let me know what happens.”
“Okay.” She forced herself to slow her breathing before answering.
“It’s me,” Lou said. “The Blade Man’s struck again.”
“Oh no! Who?”
“Wesley, but he’s okay. Deflected the knife with his arm, so he just needs a few stitches. He also managed to kick the freak in the face. Sent him flying right off the bus. Wes closed the door and called the cops, but the guy took off before they got there.”
“So, Charlie Apple got a little payback. Good.” Casey stepped into her apartment and leaned against the door. “Did Wes get a look at his face?”
“Said he had a three-or-four day stubble and bags under his eyes. Late thirties or older. Definitely the Blade Man.”
“Yep,” Casey replied. “I was watching the news an hour ago, and there was a shooting in another part of Coquitlam tonight. Doubt there’s much manpower left to search for Charlie. Anyway, something else has happened.”
Casey paced the room as she told him about Summer’s disappearance.
Lou muttered a couple of obscenities. “Did you call her?”
“Haven’t had a chance. I was on the phone with Kendal when she took off, and then you called.”
“If you get voice mail, leave a message. Tell her you’ll send the cops after Tyler if she doesn’t come home right away. Maybe we should have a talk with Tyler’s mother.”
Casey had a feeling that would make things worse. “I’ll drive by the place. See what’s what.”
She peered out the bay window, wishing the car would pull up and Summer would return. A horrible thought struck her. “She took Cheyenne, Lou. What if she’s run away?”
“Check her room.”
Casey swallowed her rising fear.
. . .
Casey sat in her Tercel, staring at the Prices’s rundown home. The lights were off, driveway empty. At least she’d found Summer’s clothes and toiletries still in her room. But things were far from okay. It was time to do something.
Casey
dialed 9-1-1. This wasn’t a real emergency, but it could be if Tyler was in an accident. She provided a brief explanation about a young driver currently on the road with her fourteen-year-old ward. Gave them the license plate number and the make and model.
Tired and demoralized, she drove back home and parked at her usual spot at the back of the house. The porch and kitchen lights were on just as she’d left them. Lights from the tenants’ studio suites on the second floor were off.
Lord, how the hell was she supposed to survive the rest of Summer’s teen years? Ages eleven to fourteen had been challenging enough. Summer would be twenty-one when Rhonda was released from prison, provided she made parole, or lived that long.
Casey trudged up the back steps. Once inside, she turned off the alarm and listened to the silence. As she started down the hall, strobing lights flashed through the rectangle of thick, amber glass next to the front door. With trepidation and hope, she jogged down the hall and opened the door.
A patrol car was parked in front of a familiar black vehicle. The fence and bedraggled hedge kept her from seeing everything. Casey hurried down the steps, onto the walkway. At the gate, she saw Tyler. A cop stood in front of him. Summer and Cheyenne weren’t there. Was Summer already inside or had Tyler dropped her off somewhere? Casey ran inside and jogged upstairs.
Without bothering to knock, she barged into the room. Summer stood at the window. She kept her back to Casey while Cheyenne padded up to her, tail wagging. Casey scratched the dog’s head.
“What have you done?” Summer turned around, her face pinched with anger.
“What I told you I’d do,” she answered. “You broke my rules and he broke the law. Did you think there wouldn’t be consequences?”
“We just went to get ice cream and take Cheyenne for a walk. You said I should take her out more.”
“At ten-thirty at night and without letting me know?”
“I called but the line was busy. Didn’t know how long you’d be, so I left. Figured we’d be back before you even noticed.”
“If you’d knocked, I would have answered.”
Summer turned back to the window. “Whatever.”
“Do you honestly believe that rules don’t matter?”
“Sure, why not?” She kept her back to Casey. “It’s in my genes, right?”
Casey was taken aback. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
Casey shut the door. “I want to know.”
Slowly, Summer turned around and folded her arms across her chest. “It means that my biological mom was a junkie and the mom who raised me wound up in jail ’cause she lost her mind and killed someone. Even my grandmother, who hasn’t broken any laws that I know of, is crazy.” Summer’s eyes glistened. “You can’t escape your genes. Ask my biology teacher.”
Did Summer truly believe she was destined for a life of trouble and misery because of her bloodline?
“Summer, you’re not a slave to genes, your family history, or your upbringing. You’re more than capable of making better decisions than they did.”
“Decisions about what?” Her eyes blazed. “I don’t have a life!”
“What are you talking about? You have friends and volunteer work, and us.”
“You?” The tears began to spill. “You and Lou are so busy with your own lives that you act like I don’t exist.”
So, Summer was acting out because she wasn’t spending more time with the adults? Casey didn’t buy it.
“How many times have I asked you to join me for dinner, and how many times have I asked how you’re doing only to get a one-word answer before you dash off somewhere?” Casey couldn’t stop the rising anger. “Why couldn’t you have taken two minutes to tell me about Tyler and how he was a friend that you went places with? Why didn’t you tell me how you felt? I would have made time.”
“Tyler makes time for me without me having to ask and come up with a reason. You’re the one I practically have to make an appointment with.”
Casey sat on the bed and rested her elbow on her knees. Was all this really her fault? She shook her head. No. Not all of it, but Summer seemed intent on putting everything on her.
“Maybe Lou and I should have taken you rock climbing or hiking, or all the things that Tyler does with you, but we had no idea you were even interested. Until you quit the swim team a while back, your life was focused on that and school. You have good friends now, and I didn’t want to curb your social life by making you spend time with us. Honestly, I assumed you preferred their company to ours.”
Summer shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Not school or volunteering or Tyler. Nothing.”
What was happening? Was this depression? Anxiety? Grief? Perhaps Kendal was right about family counseling.
“Sweetie, it does matter. I’m sorry if you’ve been unhappy and felt isolated, but running around breaking rules doesn’t solve anything.”
“I told you, it’s in my DNA.” Summer sat beside her, wiping the tears from her face. “What if I can’t help doing something really bad like both of my mothers?”
Was this truly the source of her angst and rebelliousness? Casey didn’t know how to answer her. She did know that Summer’s self-esteem and confidence had taken a beating since Rhonda’s incarceration. It appeared that the scars hadn’t healed as much as Casey thought.
“You’ve got Lou and his family’s support,” Summer went on. “All I’ve got is a bitchy grandma, a dead biological mother, and her sister—the one who raised me for eleven whole years—in prison.” The tears streamed down her face.
“You have me and Lou and his family too. We all love you, Summer.”
Summer cried harder. Casey handed her a tissue and put her arm around her as her own face grew warm. Cheyenne sat before them, her large brown eyes looking from Summer to her and back to Summer. The dog’s eyebrows twitched and rose inquisitively before she finally slumped onto the floor and rested her snout on her paws.
As Summer calmed down, she said, “When Mom gets out, I don’t want to live with her. We’ll drive each other insane.”
“You don’t have to think about that right now,” Casey said softly. “I know it’s unfair to have to deal with situations you didn’t create, and of course you have doubts about the future. But Lou and I will always be here for you, and your mother loves you, so please don’t dismiss her. She might not be around forever.”
Uh-oh. She shouldn’t have said that. Judging from Summer’s scrutiny, her intuition was on full alert.
“What do you mean, she might not be around forever?”
Damn. “It’s just that none of us are getting any younger and prison ages a person fast.”
Summer’s dark blue eyes stared at her. “Is she okay?”
How on earth was she supposed to respond to that? “I’m sure she’s fine.”
“No.” Summer frowned. “Something’s wrong. I heard it in Mom’s voice the last couple of times she called. Now I hear it in yours.” She edged closer to Casey until her face was only inches away. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t . . . I can’t.” Casey watched Cheyenne. “Rhonda made me promise not to say anything.”
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll call the prison right now, or I’ll have Tyler drive me out there tomorrow and cause a lot of shit, I swear.”
“Don’t.” Casey looked up. “Please.”
“Watch me.”
“Summer—”
“Tell me!” Summer gripped her hand. “What’s going on with Mom?”
Casey sighed. Rhonda would never forgive her for this. She’d figure out how to live with that later.
“Your mom has breast cancer and is scheduled for a mastectomy very soon.”
Summer. “That means chopping it off, right?”
“It’s a careful, surgical procedure.” While Casey explained the possibility of radiation or chemotherapy treatments afterward, Summer’s shocked expression didn’t change. More tears slid do
wn her cheeks.
“Your mother swore me to secrecy because she was afraid it would upset you, and what with final exams coming up, she wanted to spare you the worry.”
Summer leaned into Casey and began to sob. While Casey felt terrible, she was also relieved that Summer’s anger was overridden by sorrow and perhaps fear for Rhonda.
Summer was on her second tissue when Casey’s phone rang. Stan. Was he calling about Wesley? Had they caught Charlie Applebee? With one arm around Summer, she answered.
“There’s been another explosion at Mainland,” Stan said. “One of the buses. Looks like a Molotov cocktail was pushed through a partially open window.”
“For crying out loud. Anyone hurt?”
“No one was around.”
“This is getting ridiculous. Why hasn’t this person been caught? I thought Wayne was patrolling the place.”
“He left about an hour ago. Said he had a bad headache.”
“Just great. He should have called me and not bothered you.”
“It’s fine. One of the dispatchers on a smoke break thought he saw someone running down the sidewalk and went after him, but he lost the suspect. The cops are searching the area now.”
Casey took a deep breath. “Tell them that they need to look for a silver Dodge Ram and a dark-green, older model Honda Accord.”
“Why?” Stan asked.
Casey tightened her grip on the phone. “They belong to Benny’s sons.” She swallowed back the fear that Benny would see this as a betrayal of their friendship. “The boys are furious with Gwyn for what happened to their father.”
“I remember the anger I heard in the hospital,” Stan replied. “Have you got any evidence to back that up?”
“No, but Benny’s second uniform isn’t in his locker. I was at his house late this afternoon and looked through his room and a hall closet. It wasn’t there. Yvette hasn’t seen it either.” Casey paused. “Max is about Benny’s size, and since he apprenticed at the garage he knows the layout. None of Benny’s kids think he should come back to work. Also, Benny’s ID badge is missing. Yvette said it wasn’t with his belongings that the hospital gave her.”
The Blade Man Page 19