Streeter Box Set

by Michael Stone

  “The happy couple,” Terry said. It was almost a question. “What’s to it, Laurie?”

  “Good to see you, Terry.” She took a couple of steps toward him and opened her arms, careful of the coffee cup in her right hand. They hugged formally. “Bet you’re surprised to see me here.”

  Terry’s eyebrows shot up casually to indicate that nothing much surprised him.

  “I hear you got a new partner.” Brian stepped forward as he spoke. He tried to sound mad but he was in too good a mood to pull it off.

  “The man should be here any minute.” Terry liked seeing Brian upbeat, freshly shaved, clear-eyed, and horsing around like that. He even had on a pressed oxford shirt and pleated pants. “We had us quite a morning.”

  “What happened?” Brian asked. “You get anywhere looking for Swallow?”

  “Might have actually found the man. Streeter took pictures of this biker we’re looking into. Lives up in Evergreen. He’s over showing them to Irwin now. If she makes the guy, the cops should take care of him today yet. That’s the plan, anyhow.”

  “I sure as hell hope they do,” Cullen said, getting serious.

  “I bet you might at that, Brian. He’s got to be getting around to you pretty soon.”

  Cullen looked at his coffee. “How’d I get so popular all of a sudden?”

  Terry Nathan shrugged. “You’re that kind of a guy, I guess.”

  Just then the door to the reception area opened and Streeter walked in. He was still wearing his work clothes from the morning. He looked grim as Terry introduced him to the Cullens.

  “It’s been a while, Streeter,” Brian said.

  Cullen seemed more relaxed than the bounty hunter remembered. Come to think of it, more relaxed than he should be, given who was after him. “Maybe five years,” he responded.

  “You want some coffee, Mr. Streeter?” Laurie asked.

  “If it’s no trouble. Some creamer, too, please.”

  Brian suggested they all go into his office and get comfortable. The room was just about the same way Streeter remembered it: a little cowboy shrine. He wondered if the PI lived that horse-rancher life-style outside of the office. Judging by the softness of Cullen’s hand when they shook, he decided probably not. Terry took the couch while Laurie and Streeter each sat in a rocking chair and Brian poured Streeter a coffee.

  “I gather we struck out with the pictures from Evergreen,” Terry said to Streeter. “Your face doesn’t exactly indicate good news.”

  “You got that right.” He took the Styrofoam cup that Brian offered him. “Carol said the biker didn’t look like Kevin. ’Course, she’s never seen him with long hair and a beard and dressed like that before, so she’s not positive. This guy was a lot bigger, she said. With those sunglasses on, there’s no way she could make a decent ID, but she’s sure that’s not him. Sure enough not to go to the cops. Hell, we had the guy’s mug shot and we couldn’t come close to making him.”

  “Anyone can grow some hair and pile on the muscles,” Brian said, sounding irritated. “That’s all those shitheads do down in Cañon City.”

  Streeter nodded. “I mentioned that but she said even in the close-ups she didn’t think it was him. I said, if he delivered those ribs to Watts without being recognized, he’s changed a lot. She just said this isn’t him.”

  “Bottom line, we’re right back where we were yesterday,” Terry said.

  “Which isn’t very far,” Laurie added.

  Streeter glanced at her. He could see why Brian wanted her around. The lady had a nice way about her, assertive but calm. She looked like she was always about to smile. It made her seem as though she knew something no one else in the room did. Nice fragrance, too. Streeter pegged it as Donna Karan. Exclusive. Only a half-dozen stores in Colorado carried the stuff.

  “You got that right, baby,” Cullen responded. He was clearly being deferential to his ex-wife. “Hit the nail on the head.”

  Streeter noticed that Terry looked surprised at how his partner was acting.

  “Turning over a new leaf there, are you, Brian?” Nathan asked.

  Cullen frowned at him for a second and Laurie looked amused. “Brian thinks he’s on parole and I’m his PO,” she explained.

  Cullen walked to his desk and lowered himself into the wooden swivel chair behind it. “This Swallow’s pretty sharp, from what I hear.”

  “His big thing is killing from a distance,” Streeter said. “That’s what makes him so dangerous. If he comes after you, look for a surprise: a bomb, a booby trap. You never know how he’ll do it, but it most likely won’t be him waving a gun in your face.”

  Laurie looked at her ex. “You should find a new place to stay until he’s locked up. He might be good, but he can’t keep track of ten people at once.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that,” Streeter said, thinking of the note at the church. “He seems to know what everyone does and where everyone lives. He’s always a jump ahead of us. A regular mind reader.”

  “Well, let’s at least make him work for it a little,” Laurie responded. “You should find somewhere else to live for now, Brian. Maybe at Terry’s.”

  Nathan sat up at that one. “That won’t fool anyone. Be the first place the man looks if Cullen’s not coming home at night.” He knew that was true and, besides, the thought of Brian living with him indefinitely made him shudder.

  Brian nodded and then focused on Laurie, his face brightening considerably. “How about your place? If he did his homework, he knows we’re on the outs.”

  Laurie sat back in her chair. “Hold on. I didn’t mean me.”

  “You’ve got tons of room, Laurie,” Brian pressed. “I won’t be no trouble, honest. And, hell,” he added, his grin widening, “we already got an extra key.”

  Streeter studied her face. It surprised him when she agreed.

  “We’ll give it a try,” she said slowly. “But we use separate cars at all times and you stay in the guest room. If you lose your way back to bed from the can just one night and end up in my room, you’re out on the spot.”

  “You won’t even know I’m there, baby.” Brian sat back.

  SEVENTEEN

  Before he left Cullen’s, Streeter went to the conference room for privacy and called Linda Parnell. They hadn’t seen each other since the driving range. But they’d talked the day before and made tentative plans for dinner that night.

  “Howdy, stranger.” She sounded reserved but not unfriendly. “So how’s the vigilante business?”

  “Not great,” he answered. “Looks like we came up empty today. How does Marlowe’s at seven-thirty sound?”

  “Just fine.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to pick you up?”

  She hesitated, then, “Don’t bother. I live at the other end of town. Plus, if I drive, we’ll both have our getaway cars handy.”

  They hung up and Streeter drove back to the church to get ready. Carol wasn’t there, so he showered and changed in the loft, rather than downstairs. He put on a light-blue shirt and tan dress slacks. When he finished, he went to Frank’s office.

  “Looks like you’re stepping out there, Big Guy.” Frank was sitting at his desk, reading a Tom Clancy paperback, and sipping a Johnnie Walker Red, neat. He was wearing a double-breasted navy sport coat, charcoal slacks, a white shirt, and a club tie. “Spending some time with your friend Linda tonight?”

  Streeter nodded. “You’re rather dapper yourself. All you need is a yacht and a martini.”

  “That’s all any of us needs.” Dazzler glanced at his clothes and set the book on the credenza behind him. “I’m seeing my lady from down the hall.” Frank had been dating the owner of the Workout Space for several years. They were both about the same age and were content seeing each other once or twice a week. “You got a call from a lawyer a couple hours ago. Jack some-thing-or-other. His number’s right here. He said he’s returning your call. He’ll be at that number all night.” Frank ripped the top page from a notepad and sl
id it across the desk.

  Streeter picked up the paper. “Jack Nevers. I called him yesterday at his office.” He glanced back at Frank. “He used to be Carol’s law partner. You remember, way back when I was with her.”

  “What did you call him about?”

  “I figure that he might have worked with her a little on the Swallow trial. I thought I’d see if he remembers anything helpful about the guy. It’s a long shot, but I’m talking to anyone who knew Kevin. Maybe Jack knows something like where he used to work or who he hung out with.”

  Frank stood up. “Well, I’m heading out. The phone’s all yours.”

  Streeter took his place behind the desk. He’d always liked Jack Nevers and thought he was good for Carol. Jack was cool-headed, competent, and patient. Plenty of courtroom experience and a good sense of humor, too. He was forty, with thinning red hair, pale, lightly freckled skin, and tortoiseshell glasses. Streeter dialed the number. “Hey, Jack. Thanks for getting back to me so fast. What’s to it?”

  “Streeter.” Nevers sounded mildly preoccupied. “How’s the bounty-hunting business? Man, it’s been a while.”

  “A year or more, I guess.”

  Nevers nodded with the receiver to his ear. “You or Carol. Christ, I haven’t seen her in ages. I don’t suppose you have any idea how she’s doing. I remember right after your breakup she wanted to kill you. ’Course, back in those days she wanted to kill a lot of people. That is no woman to have as an enemy.”

  “True. But she got over it. We declared a truce and we’re actually friends these days. As a matter of fact, I’m doing some work for her.”

  Jack frowned. “What does she need you for? I thought she had some little corporate practice. Does this have to do with that threat business from her old client? I read about it in the paper today.”

  “You might say. I’m digging around trying to find the guy. It’s a big mess and he’s in deep hiding.”

  “The paper said there might be a link between threats to her and that cop being poisoned. When I saw Swallow’s name, I remembered the case.”

  “That’s what I wanted to ask you about,” Streeter said, adjusting himself in the chair. “I was wondering if you worked with her on his trial.”

  “Not at all. That was totally her baby from start to finish. She’d barely talked about it to me.”

  Streeter frowned. “Well, that takes care of my second question. I wanted to see if you remembered anything about Swallow that might help me find him.”

  “Not a thing. All I knew was what I read in the papers. Carol was really jammed up about that case. She never told me a thing and I didn’t meet the man myself.” He paused. “Carol Irwin. Man, back when we closed the office, I didn’t think she was going to make it. When she snaps, she snaps all the way. Did you ever hear what she did when I told her I was moving out of the office? Jesus Christ!”

  “No, but she grumbled a little about you when we were together.”

  “That’s no surprise. She’d come to me for advice once in a while, and if I so much as questioned what she was doing, she’d act like I stabbed her in the back. Anything but complete agreement she considered treason. Anyhow, I finally had enough and I told her I was history. She went crazy and fumed for days. Then, one night when I got home from work, I was walking up my driveway with the mail. Carol’s car comes screeching down the block and turns in to my house. She revs her engine and heads right at me. Luckily, I dove out of the way. But my Blazer was still in the line of fire. The crazy broad rams into the back end of my new Blazer. After that, I told her to stay away or I’d get a restraining order. I mean, hell, if I hadn’t jumped out of the way, she might have killed me.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I was.” Nevers’ voice quavered at the recollection. “But that’s not half as crazy as what she did when you two split. When she got her hand all cut up.”

  Streeter frowned. “Her accident with the disposal?”

  Jack’s voice lowered. “That was no accident, pal. It happened about a year before she tried to run me down. Carol was so rattled about your breakup that I’d drop by her place once in a while, just to make sure she was okay. This one night she was screaming about what a total asshole you are, then she’d turn around and contradict herself. First she’s blaming you, and the next minute she’s saying what a piece of shit she is and how she deserved what you did. All of a sudden, she stomped into the kitchen and shoved her hand down the sink. She put her other hand on the disposal switch and said something like, ‘If he treats me like garbage, then I must be garbage.’ I take one step toward her and she hits the fucking switch.

  “Blam, the disposal kicks in. By the time I yanked her arm out, her hand was cut up and she was screaming. I got her to the hospital and they patched it up. But, Jesus Christ, Streeter. What if I hadn’t been there? That woman’s got real serious problems. I told her to see a shrink, but I don’t know if she did.”

  “I had no idea that’s how it happened.” Streeter’s mouth felt dry and he was queasy. “I know Carol’s shaky, but I had no idea she could do something like that.”

  “Ms. Irwin has a ton of anger inside of her. When she gets worked up she has to turn it somewhere. On me, on herself, on anyone. I’m surprised she never came after you, screwing around on her and whatnot.”

  Streeter couldn’t think of anything to say at first. Then, “Look, Jack, I have to get going. Thanks for the help.” When they hung up he just stared at the desktop for a minute. Then he got up and poured himself a strong Scotch.

  Marlowe’s Downtown is a tall, upscale restaurant located on the city’s 16th Street pedestrian-and-shuttle-bus mall, featuring dark wood accents and huge windows. High-strung professionals go there to see and be seen, and tonight was no exception. Streeter walked in a few minutes before seven-thirty. He ran a quick hand through his hair, straightened his shoulders, and headed for the bar.

  “I’ll have a house red. Anything dry,” he told the bartender in the linen jacket.

  The drink came and, in a couple of minutes, Linda appeared at the door. She wore dark gray pants, partially covered by a long white sweater that went almost to her knees. It gave her a casual, artsy look. Glasses on, she smiled warmly. They hugged hello and he was surprised at how tight she held him. Then they moved back to the bar and sat down.

  “You look a little shaky, Street.”

  “It’s been one very strange day, and I just heard something that made it even more bizarre. How about a drink and then I’ll tell you about it?”

  She nodded. “I could use a little fortification. White wine’ll do it.”

  Streeter turned to the bartender and ordered. When it arrived, he filled her in on the trip to Evergreen, the unsuccessful photography, and Laurie and Brian Cullen’s reunion. But he went into more detail when he related Jack’s story.

  “That’s pretty serious stuff,” she said when he’d finished. “Has Carol ever seen anyone professionally? A therapist?”

  “She told me years ago she was getting counseling, but I didn’t ask why. A lot of people get therapy, so I didn’t think much of it.”

  “Has she ever mentioned suicide?”

  “Never. What do you think her problem is?”

  “It could be any number of things. A personality or bipolar disorder, severe depression. I’d have to know a lot more. Let’s just hope they catch Swallow fast. The stress she’s under could trigger another episode. Self-mutilation generally recurs.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Keep a close eye on her and be as reassuring as possible. She needs to feel safe. How’s she been acting?”

  “Surprisingly, she’s holding up pretty well. She can be brittle at times, but usually she’s calm. There is one thing that puzzles me. We’ve had a strictly platonic relationship for years, but in the last few days it’s almost like she’s coming on to me. Subtle, but it’s there. Carol can be seductive without trying hard. Certain suggestions, looks, her tone of voice. And w
hen I said there’s no way we could ever rekindle what we had, she just told me to lighten up.”

  “And is there no way it can be rekindled?”

  He looked off. “I can’t imagine it. Sure, she can look tempting, but all that’s ancient history.”

  Linda studied him. “Just out of curiosity, what are the sleeping arrangements?”

  “She’s got my bed. Hell, she’s taken over my loft.”

  “And you sleep where?”

  “In my bed, too. Linda, when I take on an assignment, I go all the way. Carol’s safety requires my complete attention. If anything happened to her in the middle of the night and I wasn’t there, I’d never forgive myself.” She didn’t smile, so he continued. “Okay, I sleep downstairs at Frank’s. You’re not jealous, are you?”

  “In your dreams.” She paused. “Maybe a little, but that’s not the point. Look, Street, you seem to be unresolved about Carol. That’s not a terrific way for us to start our friendship.” She shot him a grin. “Of course, her being psychotic and possibly suicidal makes me feel a whole lot better. But, seriously, you should consider what your real feelings for her are. You seem to have a history of letting Little Elvis make important decisions for you. It might be a good idea to rethink that strategy. And I say that regardless of whatever happens with you and me.”

  “Well, well. It looks like you’ve given my situation some serious thought. Aren’t you wonderful?” He smiled.

  She shook her head slightly. “And aren’t you hopeless. It’s a good thing you’re so cute.” She thought for a moment. “Last week you mentioned that being a bounty hunter was getting to you. I imagine this Irwin business makes you more concerned about your life-style.”

  “Just the opposite.” He shook his head. “When I do the day-in, day-out stuff for Frank, I think a lot about trying something else. Then I jump into the middle of a case like this. I get so caught up in it, I forget how restless and dissatisfied I usually am. The heat of the moment, the hunt, whatever it is. It becomes almost like a game: beat the other guy, find the bad man, save the girl. That must sound like kid stuff.”