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A Well-Kept Family Secret

Page 15

by Marja McGraw


  “Sandi and I are going to search for the treasure when she gets moved into her new house,” Mother announced cheerily to Pete, Frank and Stanley. Pete and Frank appeared to be confused. Stanley grinned at her, his eyes crossing, as he stumbled toward the door.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  We drove Stanley home. The others settled him on the couch while I made coffee. His apartment was just as I remembered it from my last visit. The furniture was old-fashioned, and the small living room was crowded. Almost every surface was covered with knick-knacks and books, but even so, it was clean and comfortable.

  Stanley had tripped over the edge of a braided rug covering his living room floor as we entered. He’d done the same thing the first time he’d shown Pete and me into his apartment, but he’d been sober that time.

  Mother said she’d once heard that taking a large spoonful of honey would help sober a person up. She found some in the cupboard and offered it to Stanley, but he took one look at the gooey stuff and turned green. While I made coffee, he fell asleep on the couch. We left quietly, locking the door behind us.

  “Okay, Pete, I’ll drive Mom and Frank back to their motel. Frank can get some rest, and later you can take him to pick up his car at the bar.” I thought suggesting he needed rest sounded more acceptable than saying he needed to sober up.

  The sound of Mom chuckling drifted forward from the backseat.

  After dropping them off, I drove Pete and myself back to the office.

  “I’m fine now, Sandi.” Pete waved away a mug of coffee I offered him. “I didn’t have that much to drink. But poor ol’ Stan is going to have a big headache when he wakes up.”

  “I have a feeling he’s going to think it’s worth it,” I said. “He was actually out with the boys, and I don’t think that’s something he gets to do very often. I have a suggestion though. Next time take him somewhere that doesn’t involve drinking.” I couldn’t help but smile. There’s something very endearing about Stanley. Pardon me, Stan.

  “I think it was pretty much a first for him,” Pete said. “I mean, Stan and I had a couple of drinks that time he was trying to get away from the guy who was following him when he hired us, but I think all that did was calm him down. And that was six months ago. I doubt if he’s had anything to drink except an occasional glass of wine since then.”

  I tipped my head to the side, remembering when Stan was our client. Who would have thought he’d remain our friend?

  “Anyway,” I said, abruptly changing the subject, “we need to figure out what to do about Amanda’s problem. Before we do anything else though, I’ll call to let her know we’re going to put her up in the motel.”

  I called Amanda on her cell phone but she didn’t answer. I left a voicemail for her.

  She called right back. “Alan keeps calling, so I didn’t want to answer. I’ve been checking after each call to see if it was you or not.” Her voice sounded high-pitched and strained.

  “How often has he called you?” I asked.

  “About every fifteen minutes. He’s driving me nuts.”

  “Have you told the police about the calls?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but they said there’s nothin’ they can do so long as he’s only calling me. They told me to look into getting a restraining order. So there’s nothing they can do for now. I really need you guys to help me.”

  “Okay, Amanda, calm down. We’re working on it. In the meantime, we’re going to put you up in a motel for tonight, and tomorrow night if necessary.”

  “Good. Can I pick up some stuff at my house?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you need and I’ll pick up some things for you? Or maybe you can write a list. Will that work?”

  “Sure. As long as I have clean clothes and my make-up, I’ll be okay.” She sighed deeply. “I don’t like the thought that I can’t go to my own house, ya know? This isn’t fair.”

  “I agree, Amanda, and we’re going to do whatever we can to take care of the situation.”

  She gave me her friend’s address and I told her I’d be there in about forty-five minutes to pick her up and take her to the motel. She said she’d have the list ready for me.

  I hung up the phone and turned to Pete. “She’s right, Pete, this isn’t fair. She hardly knows this guy, and he’s making her life miserable. From what I can see, this happens to a lot of women, and I’m no exception. I was lucky to get rid of the guy who was bothering me without having outside help.”

  “The laws are steadily changing, Sandi. Stalking is a crime now. Alan got out on bail and immediately began harassing her again. The courts aren’t going to like that. He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Pete had already quit drinking when I called him at Crazy Larry’s, and between coffee and a sandwich we bought on our way back to the office, he was back to normal.

  “I’ll go pick up Amanda. I want you to go over to her house and check it out before I arrive to pack up her things.” I didn’t want any surprises when I entered her house.

  “I’ll wait for you there,” he replied.

  I drove Pete back to the bar to retrieve his car. He took off for Amanda’s house, while I turned the other way to go pick her up at her friend’s house. I glanced at my watch as I pulled up and noted it had been almost exactly forty-five minutes since we’d talked on the phone. She was watching out the window, waiting for me, and didn’t waste any time running out and climbing into my car.

  “You weren’t followed, were you?”

  “No.” Actually, I’d been watching for a black or white car on my way over. I was half afraid the guy with the thick neck would pick up my trail again, and I didn’t want him screwing things up for Amanda. I hadn’t seen anything of him though. Maybe he’d given up on whatever he wanted from me. One can always hope. Wasn’t I the naïve one?

  I drove to the motel and helped Amanda settle in. She gave me her list and told me where to find everything she needed.

  Frank threw two suitcases in my trunk and I headed back to the bar so he and Mother could pick up their rental car and head out to Nevada.

  Mother assured me we’d talk more about the house when they returned from their trip. She and Frank were stopping at Joanne Treat’s office on their way out of town so Mother could sign some papers. Mother said she was sure she would have no problem getting a mortgage when she talked to her bank on Monday. She must have an awesome line of credit. We hugged each other and I watched them drive off.

  I backed the car out and drove to Amanda’s house. Pete was waiting for me.

  “Everything looks clear here,” he said. The expression on his face made his statement a lie. Something was wrong.

  “Okay, let me go in and get Amanda’s things.”

  “I’ll help you.” Pete took hold of my arm and ushered me up the steps to the front door. Actually, it was more of a push than an usher. That’s when I knew something was really wrong. Amanda had given me her key, so I pushed it into the lock and turned. The door swung open easily.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered.

  “Shhh.”

  I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders. I figured Alan had to be nearby, and Pete didn’t want him to overhear us.

  We entered the house and I followed Pete to the kitchen. “What’s up?” I asked.

  “He’s out there, hiding in the bushes. He doesn’t seem to think I spotted him, but he’s there. It looks like he tried to break into the house. I found a broken window in the bedroom. My guess is that I showed up before he could get inside.”

  “Okay, I want to take this guy down and have it stick. I’ll pack Amanda’s things like nothing is wrong. We’ll leave, but then you pull your car in at one end of the street and I’ll pull mine in at the other end of the street. We’ll work our way back to the house, and we’ll watch, and when he enters the house we can get him for breaking and entering. I’ll bring the camera so we’ll have positive evidence.” I always carried a camera i
n the car to help get the goods on bad guys.

  “Between the stalking and the B&E,” Pete said, “the judge isn’t going to go easy on him.”

  “And don’t forget the charge for assaulting you,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, this guy is racking ’em up, isn’t he? He keeps digging himself in deeper and deeper. In fact, it’s deeper than you know.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “When he was arrested they did a records check on him, which by the way, we should have done. Seems this isn’t the first time he’s done this sort of thing. He put the last woman in the hospital, but then managed to get off on a technicality. Let’s do this right and get him off the streets.”

  “By the book. No technicalities this time. Amanda is so small, he’d probably kill her if he got physical with her. I’m amazed they let him out on bail.”

  “Yeah.” Pete shrugged.

  To all outward appearances, I was calm as I walked through the house and packed Amanda’s things. Not so. The back of my neck burned as though Alan was right behind me every step of the way. I kept expecting him to burst through the front door, but I knew better. He was biding his time. I only hoped he didn’t try to follow us when we left. We needed to catch him in the act and add one more charge to his growing list.

  “Come on, Pete,” I said loudly. I wanted to be sure Alan heard me. “Let’s get going. I’ll meet you back at the office and we can take this stuff over to Amanda later. I’m going to talk to her. I don’t really see any reason why she can’t come home tonight. I’m sure this guy isn’t dumb enough to come back.”

  Hopefully, that would keep Alan from following us and maybe he’d let his guard down. He’d think he could catch up to us, or better yet Amanda, later.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Pete and I made a concerted effort not to glance toward the bushes where Alan was hiding when we left. It was actually difficult not to at least shift my eyes in that direction, but common sense prevailed and I was sure I’d made it to the car without looking suspicious.

  We drove off in our cars and turned right at the end of the block. I parked around the corner while Pete circled to the other end of the block and parked. Most of the lots had hedges and trees, so I was able to return to Amanda’s house with little fear of being seen by Alan. I walked casually along the sidewalk, like I belonged there, until I came close to Amanda’s house. I watched for Pete. He’d probably handle it pretty much the same way I did. I silently prayed that Alan wouldn’t see or hear us coming. I also hoped the neighbors wouldn’t come out and give us away.

  I made it to the house next door to Amanda’s and hid behind an old wooden fence. I could see Amanda’s yard through a knothole. Taking a careful look around, I found Alan with no problem. He had slithered out from behind the bushes like the snake he was, and he was making his way toward the house.

  I leaned around the fence and looked down the street, searching for Pete. He stuck his head out from behind the bushes in the other neighbor’s yard and signaled that he saw me. I held up my index finger as a signal to take our time.

  Turning back to the knothole, I watched Alan approach the house. He glanced over his shoulder once and headed toward the rear of the house and the window he’d already broken. He didn’t appear to have anything in his hands, so I hoped this meant he wasn’t armed. I’d left my gun in a special little hiding place at my apartment, but I knew Pete had his with him. That information made me feel ever so slightly braver.

  Alan disappeared behind the house. I leaned around the fence again, looking for Pete. When I saw him, I motioned to him to approach the house. We worked our way along the yard, each on a different side of the house.

  I could hear a commotion coming from inside and peeked through the window, which was no easy task. There were bushes surrounding the house. I pushed one of them aside, but my hand slipped off and it popped me in the mouth.

  “Ptui.” I spit the little bush things out of my mouth.

  Apparently, Amanda hadn’t hidden her baseball bat. Alan had found it and he was swinging it to and fro, breaking whatever impeded his way. It occurred to me that anything Amanda had in the house could be a potential weapon. I carefully aimed my trusty camera and started snapping shot after shot.

  Pete stooped down and crossed in front of the house to join me, cell phone in hand.

  “Hang in there for a few minutes and let’s see what he does next,” Pete whispered. “In the meantime, I’m calling and requesting a patrol car.” He backed away from the house so he wouldn’t be heard and made the call.

  Pete joined me at the window. “They’re backed up and it’s going to be a while before they can get someone over here.” He handed me the cell phone to store in my backpack.

  “I hate to see him ruining Amanda’s home,” I replied.

  “Better her home than her.”

  I took another look as things quieted down. I saw the baseball bat lying on the floor where Alan had dropped it. He stomped into the kitchen and returned with a knife. I kept snapping pictures. He cut one of the cushions on Amanda’s couch, then stopped and put his head up like he was listening. He was mumbling to himself. I hoped Alan couldn’t hear the click of the camera through the closed window. He stomped off toward the rooms in the rear. Pete and I moved along the side of the house until we could see into Amanda’s bedroom.

  Alan was slashing the spread on her bed. He stopped, lifted his head again, and headed toward Amanda’s closet where he pulled out her clothes and threw them on the floor. He appeared to be completely out of control when he sliced at a pink dress.

  “Okay, enough is enough.” I stood up, having moved to the side of the window. “Let’s take him. You go in through the back door and I’ll come through the front. Let me unlock the front door and then you can have the key to take with you.”

  “Sandi, he’s got a knife. Did you happen to miss that little detail?”

  “That’s why I’m sending you in the back way. You’ve got a gun and you’ll get to him before I do. I don’t think the cops are going to get here in time, so we’re going to catch him in the act. Count to ten before you go in.”

  “Thanks, sugar. You’re always thinking of me.”

  “You betcha.”

  Pete followed me and waited while I unlocked the front door. He took the key and disappeared from view around the side of the house. I could see through the living room into the kitchen, so I knew when Pete was in place. He counted to ten and entered through the back door.

  I counted to twelve, wanting to be sure he was the first one in – not that I’m a chicken or anything – but like I said, he had the gun. I could see it resting in his hand. Just to be on the safe side though, I grabbed the baseball bat Alan had been wielding as I moved through the living room.

  We could hear him yelling. I had no idea what he was screaming at, but he sounded enraged. He obviously hadn’t heard us enter the house. Pete took his time moving down the hallway, and I followed behind, gripping the bat like I was ready to hit a home run. I knew I should have brought my gun, but it hadn’t been very helpful in our last encounter with this guy.

  As we neared the bedroom door, we could see Alan’s back. He’d stopped yelling and started mumbling to himself again, and he didn’t see us coming. I couldn’t let go of the bat to take more pictures. The pictures would have been more evidence, but it was a lost cause at that point. We’d have to rely on the ones I’d already taken.

  Pete stepped into the room, gun drawn and ready. “Can I help you with something?” His tone was sarcastic. I stepped in behind him and moved to his side, away from Alan.

  Alan turned slowly, the knife still in his hand. He glared at us, his eyes taking in Pete’s weapon. He gripped the knife tighter, his knuckles turning white.

  “Put it down, you dumb – ” Pete started.

  “Look out,” I yelled, swinging the bat at air.

  Alan lunged at Pete. The gun went off. Alan looked surprised. His eyes wid
ened – his mouth opened. He fell to the floor, groaning. The sound ended abruptly. He was still.

  I turned to Pete. He took a deep, ragged breath and exhaled slowly. His hands shook.

  “Watch him.” Pete handed me his gun.

  I nodded.

  Pete kicked the knife away from Alan and bent to check for a pulse. Pete shook his head. Nothing. He inhaled and exhaled deeply again.

  I couldn’t help but notice how quiet it seemed all of a sudden. My hearing seemed to be affected by the sound of the gunshot.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “What do you think?”

  “Pete, are you – ”

  “I’m not fine, Sandi. I just killed a guy. Not a good feeling.”

  “I’m sorry, Pete.”

  “Don’t be. He asked for it. Where’s the cell phone?”

  I dug it out of my backpack without saying another word.

  “Put that bat down before you end up hitting me with it.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d started swinging it – at nothing.

  Pete called Rick Mason, his friend in the Homicide Division at L.A.P.D., the same man who helped when my mother was mugged. He explained what had happened and asked Rick to send a patrol car.

  Within minutes we heard sirens, and two patrol cars pulled up in front of Amanda’s house. Rick had told them what to expect and they weren’t aggressive with Pete. Watchful, but not aggressive. Rick was only a few minutes behind, followed by the EMTs. Before long the house was crawling with cops. Cameras flashed as they took pictures. I was called into the living room and they asked for my statement. I gave it to them in brief, clipped sentences. I also handed over my roll of film. Evidence.

  Pete was in the kitchen with an EMT. I was surprised to turn and see his arm being bandaged. Alan had tried to find his mark but had only managed to cause a superficial cut on Pete’s arm.

  Suddenly I felt very cold.

  “I have to go see how Pete is, okay?” I looked pleadingly at the officer who was taking my statement.

 

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