by Lee Strauss
The research center rested in the hills at the north end of Santa Bonita. Rosa, with Diego squirming in the satchel beside her, sat in the back seat of the cruiser, Miguel sat in the passenger seat, and Detective Sanchez drove the vehicle along the winding incline. If a person didn’t already know the research center was there, it was entirely possible to be ignorant of its existence.
“The center was started by Robert Van Peridon,” Miguel said, casting a glance over his shoulder at Rosa. “Unfortunately, he was killed in a hit and run during a freak storm. The rain washed away any evidence of the vehicle responsible, and the perpetrator was never apprehended. Since the war was nearly over, the press spun the story as a last-ditch effort by the enemy to take out some of America’s most essential advancement forerunners.”
“How awful,” Rosa said. “The Van Peridon children are orphans.”
Detective Sanchez, with a dry cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, grunted. “They inherited their old man’s company and his money.”
“Are you suggesting one of them ran their own father down?” Rosa asked.
“The driver was never caught, so who’s to say?”
They reached an imposing security gate with a warning sign written in both English and Spanish meant to frighten off trespassers. A guard emerged from a hut to greet them. Detective Sanchez and Miguel flashed their badges.
“We’d like to have a few words with a Miss Pauline Van Peridon,” Miguel announced.
The guard didn’t say a word, only nodded and returned to the security hut. Through the window, Rosa could see the man pick up the receiver of a telephone and dial. Several drawn-out moments later, he emerged to say, “I’m afraid Miss Van Peridon isn’t available today.”
“Not available, or not here?” Miguel asked. “This is official police business, and I must insist that she presents herself if she is on the premises.”
The guard glanced to his upper right, a possible sign that he was about to lie. Reading facial expressions and body language was a skill Rosa had learned from her mother. The guard glanced back at Miguel and said, “She’s not here today.”
Miguel nodded. “And do you know where we can find her?”
The guard shook his head.
Rosa muttered from the backseat, “Whoever’s in charge.”
“We’d like to go in and have a chat with whoever is in charge on the premises today,” Miguel said as he flashed his badge again.
The guard made another call, and moments later announced, “Mr. Tom Van Peridon will meet you there.” He rolled the gate open and directed them down the rest of the driveway to the parking lot.
Rosa adjusted the bobby pin that held her bangs out of her eyes and peered at the man who stood waiting for them. She knew what Henry looked like, and this man wasn’t him. She surmised that it must be the eldest brother, Thomas Van Peridon. Like Nancy had claimed, this brother was taller and built like a soldier. He wore a blue shirt and yellow tie, gray slacks, and a straw fedora.
The building behind Tom Van Peridon looked more like the spaceships Rosa had seen in comic books when she was young than any building she’d been to in real life. The roof was sleek, slanted metal and angled low to the ground on all sides. Rosa suspected much of the center operated underground, hidden away.
“Why don’t you two see what you can get out of Mr. Van Peridon,” Rosa said. “Perhaps you can convince him to take you inside. Insist on meeting Henry Van Peridon. Tell them I’m an arrest—you were just on your way back to the station with me. Insinuate that I’m cuffed and harmless. Leave me in the car.”
Without looking back, Miguel said, “What are you thinking?”
“It’ll give me a chance to look around. And if I’m caught, I’ll just play the weak female card and say I’m lost. Maybe I can find Pauline.”
Miguel worked his lips. “I don’t know.”
“Could be dangerous,” Detective Sanchez added as he parked and killed the engine. Tom Van Peridon would be able to see into the car, but not well.
“I’m only looking for Pauline,” Rosa said. “I think I can handle her.” She was about to remind the men that she, too, had police training and could take care of herself, but then Miguel opened the glove compartment, pulled out a pair of metal handcuffs, and slid them over the back of his seat.
“Be careful, Rosa,” he said. “I mean it.”
Then, without another word, Miguel and Sanchez got out of the car and approached Pauline’s brother.
Rosa debated what to do next. She glanced at the handcuffs. Where was the key?
Miguel had forgotten to give her the key. She decided to lock up her left arm and gently placed the other side over her right wrist without clicking it into place.
And just in time!
The second her hands were back on her lap, she looked up to see a fourth man—slight in build with dark hair greased straight back—at the passenger window, looking in.
Henry Van Peridon.
Rosa didn’t think Henry would recognize her. She’d only ever seen him from a distance, but as a precaution, she kept her gaze averted and her head turned. He seemed more concerned with the handcuffs on her wrists, and moments later, slapped the roof before walking away.
Joining his brother, Henry and Thomas conferred with Miguel and Detective Sanchez for several minutes, far enough from the police vehicle that Rosa couldn’t hear what they were saying. Miguel regularly motioned toward the building, and the two men responded with shaking heads. It wasn’t difficult to understand the nature of the conversation. Soon Miguel motioned in the other direction where Rosa now saw a path that likely led to the back of the building. A flat metal blade angling through some trees was just visible from her point of view and looked like it could be a part of an airplane.
The moment the men rounded the corner of the building, Rosa grabbed the car door handle, carefully opened the door, and then closed it behind her. She stared back at Diego through the window, his little face with his big golden eyes staring up with a look of betrayal.
“Sorry, Diego. I’ve got to go alone this time. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Keeping low to the ground, Rosa crept away from the police car toward the building. The overhang of the low-slanted roof shadowed the front entrance. Not until she neared the glass doors did she see a bored-looking security guard wearing brown pants and a tan shirt stretched over a round belly.
She pressed against the building then snuck in the opposite direction from where the men had gone. Several metal, windowless doors lined the side of the building, but they were all locked, and for all Rosa knew, they could have been guarded on the other side. Reaching the backside of the building, she came to a cliff front. Rosa now understood why they had built the research center here. Only three sides could be breached.
Directly above her, where the building protruded out over the cliff, was a large balcony. It had wall-to-wall windows and a glass door out onto it. Rosa was glad she’d chosen to wear capri pants rather than a dress, as some climbing would be required. She scanned the rock face under the balcony for the best place to find hold, slipped out of her sandals, and heaved herself onto a wooden crossbar. Like her mother, Rosa was stronger than she looked. As she hoisted herself up and found her footing, she thought back to the times while on duty that she’d climbed fire escapes or alley fences to catch a running suspect. The same adrenaline ran through her veins now.
It wasn’t a tall building, and she only had to make less than fifteen feet. Hand over hand, and ignoring the weight of the handcuff hanging from her left arm, she climbed the braces of the overhang one by one. When she reached the railing, she carefully maneuvered over it and found herself on solid footing.
The sunshine beat down on the window and made it difficult to see through. For a split second, Rosa thought she was looking into a mirror rather than through a plate of glass. Reflected was a slender woman with brown hair, but this one wasn’t wearing capri pants. This one wore a blue dress.
>
“Pauline!” Rosa yelled through the glass. “I just want to ask—” But she stopped because Pauline had already spun and raced out a door behind her.
22
The balcony door was open with only a screen door blocking Rosa’s way. With more strength than was necessary, Rosa whipped it open and stepped inside.
The family office? Three large mahogany desks were covered with everything from paperwork to wires and knobs and steel plates. Rosa approached the first one and noted a framed black-and-white photograph of a man dressed in a suit with baggy pants and a double-breasted jacket, and a fedora hat styled from the war years. An inscription plate attached to the frame read, Robert Van Peridon, 1901-1945. He stood proudly by an old wartime airplane.
An item sitting close to the photo stopped Rosa in her tracks. A cylindrical piece of red rubber, with a jagged open slice down one side, sat on the ledge beside the photo as though it were a trophy. A shiver went down Rosa’s spine.
The lever for the roller coaster’s brake.
Rosa raced to the office door and opened it a sliver to peek at what was on the other side. A grouping of glass-paneled rooms as far as the eye could see. Workers in lab coats filled the spaces, and there were walls upon walls of buttons and interconnected wires and flashing lights. A female figure gestured madly at a security guard.
Rosa hesitated. If she scaled back down the balcony trestles, she would never catch Pauline, but if she went the faster way, down the stairs and out the front door, the security guard was sure to stop her.
Or try to.
Keeping her eyes peeled for anything that might assist her, Rosa raced from the office and down the hall toward the stairs. The researchers paid her no attention, which was helpful. As she passed the third glass-walled room, she saw exactly what she needed hanging from a hook by the door. A spare lab coat!
It was big on her, which would help conceal the handcuffs still dangling from her left wrist. Nobody seemed to notice her grab the smock or race for the stairs while slipping her arms inside.
She didn’t look the part of a tidy researcher. Her hair had fallen slightly forward and her feet were bare, but she hoped that if she strode past the security guard with purpose, as though she knew exactly where she was going and what she was doing, he would pay her little attention.
As she reached the main floor, Rosa took in a breath and confidently strode for the front door, but as she passed the guard, he called to her.
“Hey!”
Rosa sprinted away, and as she hoped, the rotund guard didn’t have the endurance to keep up with her. Dodging tables and startling scientists, she pushed through the glass door of the exit and into the bright sun.
Cupping her eyes against the glare, she searched the parking lot for movement.
If Pauline got away from the research center, who knew how long she could hide from them? By the looks of this research center, she probably had enough money to stay hidden for the rest of her life if she wanted—she was smart enough to do it too.
Movement along the side of the building caught Rosa’s attention. A silver Buick, as unmemorable as Pauline’s fashion sense, backed quickly out of a parking space. Rosa, hearing the loud puffing of the security guard behind her, broke into a run. As her bare feet hit pebbles sticking out of the asphalt, Rosa winced but didn’t stop until she was right in front of Pauline’s car. She slapped her hands on the hood of the vehicle, the handcuffs making a loud clank.
Pauline shouted out of the open window. “Get out of the way, Rosa! Please!”
The security guard had stopped several paces back, winded and bent over, his thick arms bracing his knees.
Rosa stared hard at Pauline through the windshield and showed every ounce of her determination. There were only two choices here for Pauline: Run over Rosa, or give herself up.
“Please, Rosa! You don’t understand. He killed our dad!”
Rosa relaxed her hold on the hood of the car. “Who killed your dad?”
“Victor. Victor Boyd.” Pauline, the quiet one, had found her voice now. “When I saw him at the boardwalk, I only meant to tell him off for how he’d treated me in school.” She sobbed into the sleeve of her blouse. “He laughed in my face then told me that he was the one who’d run my dad down.”
“Don’t tell them anything else, Paulie!” Tom Van Peridon’s voice reached them from behind.
Rosa turned to see his long, skinny legs move with surprising speed toward them.
“They don’t have anything,” he said, “Just keep your mouth shut.”
Miguel and Detective Sanchez raced out of the building with Henry Van Peridon on their heels. Grabbing Tom by the arm, Miguel pulled him back so he couldn’t go near his sister.
Pauline sniffed. “I thought maybe Victor was lying, just trying to upset me because he was upset, but . . .”
Slowly, Rosa made her way to the driver’s door, reached over Pauline, and turned off the car’s ignition.
“And you couldn’t let it go?” Rosa pushed gently.
Pauline shook her head and spoke to the steering wheel. “Victor Boyd, more than anybody in this world, deserved payback. But, Rosa, I didn’t kill him. He was alive and carrying that stupid pole when I left him.”
Rosa had a gut feeling Pauline was telling the truth. But if she hadn’t killed him . . .
Pauline was a testing and research manager and wouldn’t know how to rig the panel for the roller coaster, at least not within the limited amount of time she would have had.
But her brothers were electrical engineers. Either of them would know how.
The question now was, who was Pauline trying to protect?
“Pauline,” Rosa said gently, “If you’re innocent, why did you run from me?”
Pauline’s tear-filled eyes glanced at her brother Henry. When Rosa followed her gaze, Miguel and Detective Sanchez did the same.
Unlike his brother, Henry buckled under pressure. He darted into the surrounding forest, his actions all but confirming his guilt.
Miguel took off after him. “Henry Van Peridon, stop!”
Rosa stared at Detective Sanchez, who made a show of holding Tom Van Peridon, and not easily. Pauline wasn’t a real danger, and Miguel was about to disappear into the forest without backup. Rosa hurried after him.
Her pulse raced, not only because of the adrenaline rush that came from the chase but because Miguel could be in danger. For all they knew, Henry Van Peridon could have set booby-traps around the research center.
Rosa didn’t spend a lot of time barefoot, and despite the urgency of the situation, the pain that shot up her legs from pokey twigs and sharp pebbles slowed her down.
“Miguel!”
It was too quiet. Rosa fought against the pain in her feet and kept running. “Miguel!”
Please, Lord, let him be all right.
She pushed through the scraggly desert brush, wincing at the scratches inflicted on her forearms. “Miguel?”
She broke into a clearing and stopped short. Straddling Henry Van Peridon, who was lying facedown on the dirt, was Miguel, holding his captive’s arms tight behind his back.
Rosa took a moment to catch her breath. The thought of something happening to Miguel, of losing him, was an incredible ache, and she soaked in the feeling of immense relief she felt at seeing he was alive and well.
Oblivious to the gamut of emotion Rosa was wrestling still, Miguel nodded to the handcuff weighing painfully from her wrist. “You done with those?”
“I need a key.”
“Ah, right.” Miguel put pressure on Mr. Van Peridon’s back with one hand. With the other, he retrieved the handcuff key from his pocket and handed it to Rosa.
Rosa freed herself then watched as Miguel snapped them on Mr. Van Peridon’s wrists.
“Nice work, Detective Belmonte,” Rosa said, unable to keep from grinning.
Miguel’s copper-brown eyes focused on hers, and adorable dimples formed.
Rosa held in a sigh. The man sti
ll made her quiver.
“Same to you, WPC Reed.”
23
Riding her Schwinn bicycle down the wide street leading to the Kline residence, Rosa slowed to a stop in front of their house.
She hadn’t called ahead. What if Nancy was busy? Or worse, what if she never wanted to see Rosa again?
One of the curtain panels in the living room moved, and Rosa saw Nancy’s perplexed expression as she stared out. Soon afterward, the front door opened.
“Are you spying on me?”
“No. Why would I do that?”
“Oh, I dunno. Some cop thing, maybe.”
“I’m off duty,” Rosa said with a smile. She wasn’t actually on the force there, so she was as much of a civilian as Nancy was.
“Well, come in, why doncha? You’re making me nervous.”
Nancy stood on her front steps and watched Rosa park her bike in the driveway.
“Don’t tell me you brought that cat again?”
Rosa was just about to lift the satchel holding Diego out of the basket. “Oh, I forgot about Eddie’s allergies. Should I come back later?”
Nancy flicked a palm dismissively. “Nah. He’s at work. Bring the critter inside. But I must warn you; the boys are home.”
Evidence of that statement was clear. Forts made from sheets filled the living room with the boys crawling rambunctiously between them. One of the sheets covered a lamp, and Nancy got there just in time to save the ornamental piece before it crashed to the floor. “That’s enough! Outside with you! It’s a nice day. You should be outside.”
“Aw, Mom!”
Nancy pointed to the back door. “Go. I have company.”
Chugging like a train out of coal, the three boys slumped out of the room with droopy shoulders.
Nancy wiped her brow. “It’s the summer holidays. I, for one, can’t wait for school to start again.”
“I should’ve rung first.”