Knock Knock

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Knock Knock Page 21

by Debra Purdy Kong


  As she started up the stairs, Marie caught up with her.

  “You’re looking better,” she said. “The bruises are pretty much gone.”

  “Thanks. I’m feeling better.”

  “Good. Because Philippe is here.”

  Casey stopped on the landing. “Why?”

  “Either to get his job back or ask for a reference. The man has no shame.” Marie adjusted her thick, red ponytail.

  Footsteps bounded down the stairs. Casey looked up and found herself face to face with Philippe.

  “I see that the hens are gossiping again,” he remarked.

  “There’s lots to talk about, what with you being fired and all,” Marie shot back. “Maybe Casey and I should escort your sorry ass out of here.”

  “Get a life, bitches,” he said, jogging down the steps.

  “Excuse me?” Marie’s eyes bugged out. “Wait up, you little turd.”

  Marie hurried after him, while Casey continued upstairs. Her phone rang. It wasn’t a number she recognized. “Hello?”

  “Uh, this is Denis . . . who’s working with the police.”

  “Oh, right.” She stopped. “What can I do for you?”

  “I got important information.”

  “Really? What is it?”

  “I can’t talk over the phone. They’re still here.”

  “Who’s here?”

  “Meet me in the park and I’ll show ya.” He hung up.

  Casey frowned. She could call him back and insist that he simply tell her now, but it was possible that he wouldn’t cooperate. Should she call Novak? Not that Denis would talk to him over the phone either. Two days had passed since her coffee with Denver. She hadn’t heard from him since. As much as she wanted to know who Denis was talking about, she couldn’t go back to that neighborhood alone. Her car would be too familiar by now.

  Marie returned. “What a turd. I practically chased Philippe off the property.”

  “Are you up for a drive to Kerrisdale? I don’t feel like driving today.” Which was mostly true. And Marie was one of the few people who weren’t judging her these days.

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah. An informer named Denis just called and said he has something important to tell me, but he wouldn’t say what. I think it has something to do with the home-invasion suspect, whose name is Tyrone Ripple, by the way. Do you have the time? I could take my car, but I’m afraid it’d be recognized by the wrong people.”

  “Sure, I have time before my shift starts. But I need to see Stan first.”

  “He wants to see me too.”

  “How did you learn the suspect’s name?” Marie asked.

  As they continued upstairs, Casey brought her up to speed. She thought about asking Marie not to mention their drive to Kerrisdale to Stan, but asking Marie to keep a secret was nearly impossible. Marie picked up a report from her desk and trailed after Casey into Stan’s office.

  “Ladies.” Stan turned away from his computer screen and zeroed in on Casey. “I hear you’ve been quite the busy bee.”

  Uh-oh. What had he heard? “Oh?”

  Stan nodded to Marie, who placed the report in his tray, then sat next to Casey.

  “We’ve gotten word to be on the lookout for a husky man in jeans and a dark-gray hoodie in the hot zone,” he said. “Seems he’s the prime home-invasion suspect.” Stan gave Casey one of his measured stares. “I’m told that you spotted him in the park behind Monica Silver’s house earlier this week.”

  “I did. She asked me to visit, and I’d been worried about her.”

  “Was he the man who attacked you and Harold Knox?”

  Casey nodded.

  “I’m giving her a lift to Kerrisdale in a few minutes,” Marie said.

  Casey cringed as displeasure creased Stan’s face. “Why?”

  Casey told him about Denis and added, “I also have to return something I borrowed from Monica. It’ll be a quick trip.”

  “Are you going to let the cops know?”

  “Only if what Denis says is relevant. They won’t be happy if I bring them out there for nothing, and that might happen. Denis is bipolar. There could be a credibility issue.”

  Stan blew out a long puff of air. “Since you’re both doing this on your own time, it looks like I don’t have much say in the matter.” He turned to Marie. “Make sure she stays out of trouble.”

  “Don’t worry,” Marie answered. “I’ve got her back.”

  “Good. Now, if you don’t mind, I need a private word with Casey for a couple of minutes.”

  And here came the bad news. She could feel it.

  “No problem.” Tossing Casey a sympathetic glance, Marie shut the door quietly behind her.

  Stan cleared his throat and rested his elbows on the desk. “Philippe told me about the altercation on the sailboat, how he confronted one of the suspects.” He peered at Casey. “He also said that you were there, and you’d been tailing him since he left his home.”

  The guy had finally learned to be observant. Figured.

  “Why did you do that, Casey?”

  “This’ll sound strange, but it was to save his butt. He bragged about being able to identify the other two suspects and that he would wrap things up Monday night. I knew Philippe was in over his head, so I followed to make sure he didn’t get himself killed, which he nearly did.”

  “What exactly happened?”

  “I heard a splash but couldn’t see Philippe. Then I spotted a big guy in a hoodie and instantly had a bad a feeling about him. When I left the area, he started following me, which made me think that he was the one who went after me and Harold. Anyway, I lost him and got home safely.” Stan’s stare made her fidget. “Did Philippe come by just to tell you about Granville Island, or was he asking for his job back?”

  “Both, but it’s not gonna happen. And no more watching out for Philippe. Let the idiot make his own mistakes.” He paused. “Don’t you see why you should be resting at home these days?”

  Damn it, why should she have to defend herself for trying to ensure that others were okay? “If I hadn’t, then the connection between the suspect and an older man named Ricky, who happens to be his father, wouldn’t have occurred. That incident gave the cops the best lead they’ve had.”

  Stan’s stare didn’t let up. “Are you sure you have to see this Denis kid today?”

  How could she make him understand? “I appreciate your concern, but there will be cops all over the place. The truth is, I’m still worried about Monica. She’s unraveling fast and has no support. Turns out that her husband left her, and I think Elsie was her only real friend. She has a daughter who dumps her toddlers on her regularly, but Monica’s also been drinking heavily.”

  Stan’s expression froze. “Does she drink while she’s babysitting?”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen it.” She also knew that her boss was a family man who adored his grandchildren.

  “Damn. Guess you’ll have to go then.” Stan leaned back in his chair. “Before you do, though, tell me how you’re doing.”

  “Much better. Had my first counseling session yesterday. It went well.” Not that she wanted to discuss the details.

  “Good,” he answered. “Any chance you’ll be medically cleared for work soon?”

  “Hope so,” Casey replied. “Are you sure you don’t need me for desk duty? I could handle a little paperwork now. Do some scheduling.”

  “Let’s wait a bit longer and meet again next week.”

  Man, he wasn’t going to give her an inch. “Fine.” Casey left his office, then called Monica and got a breathless reply. “Monica, are you all right?”

  “I’m trying to catch marbles before they roll under the fridge.”

  “I take it your granddaughters are there again?”

  “Yes, and frankly, it’s getting to be a bit much. I don’t even know what a normal life is anymore, I really don’t.” The girls shouted in the background.

  Casey spotted Marie chatting with coworkers
at the far end of the room. “Sonya must be really busy.”

  Or dumping far more responsibility on her mother than she should. Based on the conversations Casey overheard on the buses, plenty of grandparents were doing more caregiving than they’d bargained for.

  “Just between us girls,” Monica said, “I think she’s hanging out with the wrong sort of people again.”

  Again? “What makes you say that?”

  “She’s jittery and losing weight, and doesn’t look well. I think she’s been pulling all-nighters.”

  The last thing Monica needed was a deadbeat daughter. “This might be a bad time, but is it okay if I pop by? I want to return the disguise you gave me.”

  “Of course. You’re always welcome, and could I ask a favor?

  “Sure.”

  “Would you mind picking up a bottle of vodka? The cheap stuff will do.”

  Oh boy. “No problem. See you soon.” She put her phone away as Marie joined her. “We have to make a stop at the liquor store. Monica’s become rather fond of lemonade and vodka.”

  “Then let’s go make her day.”

  . . .

  Casey shivered involuntarily, but it wasn’t from the air conditioning in the SUV. It was being back on Monica’s street, the death and fear it represented, the knowledge that Tyrone Ripple could be scoping them out right now. They’d already circled the park once in search of a white van but hadn’t seen any. Still, father and son could be nearby, or about to show up. Casey barely glanced at the park, afraid that Ricky would be there and see her. Even if he was close by, it was comforting to know that the cops would be watching him.

  “Who do you want to talk to first?” Marie asked. “The informer or Monica?”

  Casey scanned the park. “I don’t see Denis, so let’s go to Monica’s.”

  Marie pulled over. “Which house is hers?”

  “Three houses down on the left, the one with all the flamingos.” Casey placed the paper bag containing the vodka in the beach bag and a box of donuts.

  “I didn’t know people still cluttered their lawns with that stuff,” Marie remarked, turning to Casey. “Are you sure you can manage? What’s in the bag, anyway?”

  “A disguise Monica lent me.”

  Monica grinned. “You really do like dressing up, don’t ya.”

  “It’s the Sherlock Holmes in me.”

  “Yeah, well, try not to get yourself in trouble, Sherlock.” Marie pulled into the driveway. “I’ll park in front of the park and take a stroll.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “Why not? The bad guys don’t know me, and I sure in hell don’t look rich.”

  She had a point. On the other hand, what if a quick departure was necessary? “Are you going to leave the doors unlocked, in case I’m back before you?”

  “Sure, but don’t worry. I’ll stay close enough to see you coming.”

  As Marie backed out of the driveway, Casey headed for Monica’s door. Landscapers were working in the yard across the street. Maybe one or two would recognize her. Any of them could be informers.

  Casey rang the bell and immediately heard one of the granddaughters wailing inside. She counted to ten and was about to ring again when Monica opened the door.

  “Hi. No one’s in the best of moods, so be forewarned.” Monica’s bleached hair looked like it had been washed and left to hang dry. The little makeup she’d apparently slapped on didn’t conceal the puffy sacs under her eyes.

  “Will these help?” Casey presented the donut box. “I brought a treat for the girls.”

  “You angel!” Monica showed the contents to the sniffling girls. “Look! Auntie Casey brought you a treat. If you stop crying, you can each have one.”

  Their faces lit up and they scrambled down the hall.

  Casey removed the vodka from Monica’s beach bag. “For you.”

  Monica looked relieved as she took the bottle. “You’re my best friend, sweetie.” She sneezed, then wiped her nose.

  An unsettling prospect. “Are you okay? You sound like you have a cold.”

  “Getting one, yeah. I’ve taken some medication, but what I really need is a nap.”

  Casey put the bag on the floor. “I want to thank you for the use of the dress and wig.”

  “No problem. Come on in.”

  Down the hall, Casey noticed that more paintings had been removed from the walls. A chair and two lamps were also missing. In the kitchen, Casey looked out the window. No sign of Ricky or Tyrone.

  “You want some lemonade?” Monica asked.

  “No thanks. I can only stay a minute.” She watched Monica yawn. “Long day?”

  “Long life.”

  Casey turned from the window as Monica splashed vodka into a glass of lemonade. “Anything new happening in the neighborhood?” Casey asked. “Have Elsie’s relatives come by to pack her things?”

  “No. Her son lives way out in Chilliwack, and there’s tons of stuff to pack. Elsie collected china, dolls, spoons, cuckoo clocks, you name it.” Monica gulped her drink.

  “Sounds like they could use some help,” Casey said. “What if you offered to give him a hand? Maybe he’d let you keep some of her things, which you could sell.” Casey replied. “You’re probably one of the few people who could handle a project that size.”

  “Great idea.” A spark appeared in Monica’s eyes. Casey good almost see the dollar signs. “I never thought of that.”

  Seanna and Shawna started to fight over the only chocolate donut. Swearing under her breath, Monica grabbed a knife and swiftly sliced the donut in half. “There. No more fussing either of you.”

  Casey shuddered. That knife had been a little too close to the girls’ fingers. “What time are you expecting Sonya?”

  Monica checked her watch. “Within the hour.”

  Thank god. “I should get going.”

  “So soon?” The corners of Monica’s mouth turned down. Loneliness encased her in a dull, heavy blanket. “Can you come again?”

  “Maybe later this week.” With any luck, Tyrone and his dad would be in jail by then. “Call if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

  Casey glanced at the knife and at a disheveled Monica holding the drink in her hand. Leaving didn’t feel right. But if Sonya was back shortly, maybe it was okay. Besides, if she didn’t find Denis soon, he might not hang around.

  “Take care.” Once she was on the sidewalk, she called Marie. “I’m heading to the park. See anything interesting?”

  “Two cute guys in skimpy shorts.”

  Casey started down the sidewalk and scanned the street for white vans and a husky maniac in a hoodie. The less time she spent in the neighborhood, the happier she’d be. She’d almost reached the SUV when she spotted Denis ambling toward her.

  “Hi, Denis. You said you had something to tell me?”

  He paused as if thinking this over. “I saw Ricky. He left a few minutes ago.”

  “Was he at the playground?”

  “In the trees, where that lady was killed.” Denis began to fidget. “He was talking to Sonya.”

  Uneasiness fluttered through Casey. “Monica’s daughter?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Not good. Out of the corner of her eye, Casey saw Marie heading for the vehicle. They exchanged glances, but Marie kept her distance. “Have she and Ricky talked before?”

  “A few times. Ricky knows everyone.”

  Of course he did. His mission was to get to know the locals on behalf of his psycho son.

  “Did you hear what they were talking about today?”

  Denis shook his head. “I don’t go near Sonya. She’s meaner than ever.”

  “Being a single parent with two little girls can’t be easy.”

  “She was like that even in high school. Got into fights. Screamed at her dad all the time till he kicked her out.”

  Interesting. “But she didn’t fight with her mom?”r />
  “Monica spoiled her rotten.”

  Apparently, she still had a hard time saying no. “Does Sonya talk to other people in the park?”

  His eyes lit up. It was the first time Casey had seen Denis this animated. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. That big guy showed up and started talking to both of them. You know, the one you told me to stay away from.”

  Oh lord. “The husky man in the gray hoodie?”

  “Yeah. He looked really mean today.”

  Her uneasiness swelled into horror. If Sonya was one of Tyrone Ripple’s informers, then that could explain why Monica hadn’t been targeted. Dread slithered down Casey’s spine as she scanned the park.

  “Is the husky guy still around?”

  “He left. So did Ricky and Sonya.”

  “Did they all leave together?”

  “No, they went in different directions.”

  “When?”

  Denis shrugged. “Maybe a half hour ago? But that big guy could come back. He’s been hanging out here a lot lately.”

  No doubt, and that’s what sent chills quivering through her. Casey looked up and down the street. Was Tyrone watching her right now?

  “Gotta go.” She hurried inside Marie’s SUV and locked the door. “We need to get out of here. Tyrone Ripple’s been in the neighborhood and might still be here, watching us right now.” Sweat beaded on her forehead. “Go! We don’t want him getting your plate number.”

  Unless he already had.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  “How do you know that Tyrone Ripple’s here?” Marie said as she drove down Elsie’s street. “Did you see him?”

  “No, but Denis did. He saw Monica’s daughter Sonya talking to Ricky and his maniac son, and apparently that wasn’t the first time.”

  “Holy shit.” Marie glanced at her. “The daughter would make a good informant, gathering info from her mother to pass along.”

  “Exactly.” While Casey told Marie about Sonya’s erratic hours, she scanned the neighborhood and side streets, looking for Sonya’s blue Echo. “Denis said she left, so I’m guessing that she dropped her kids off with Monica, went to the park for a meeting, then took off to do errands or something more nefarious. Monica said she’d be back within the hour.”

 

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