by Aimée Thurlo
After responding to each of the thirty or so messages, Laura sat back, mulling things over. She’d have to get back to her regular work schedule soon. Writing for a living was a difficult proposition. Whether or not ideas came, bills always did.
She looked at the blank word-processing screen again. The problem was that it was hard to let her imagination soar when reality kept pulling her back. Knowing that she couldn’t even guarantee she’d be alive tomorrow made it difficult to think of anything else.
It was dusk when she finally gave up and wandered out into the living room. Burke was still in front of his laptop, and it was clear from his rapt concentration that he didn’t want to be disturbed.
Laura brought out a stuffed frog she’d picked up at the state fair once and began playing tug-of-war with Wolf. Letting him turn it into a drool-covered lump seemed a small price to pay for everything the dog had done to protect her so far.
Some time later, after Wolf lost interest, she went into the kitchen to get something to drink. As she pulled a box of chamomile tea from the cupboard, the smoke-scented breeze coming through the window over the sink diverted her attention. Brushing the café curtains aside, she glanced out into the night and gasped.
“Burke, fire!”
Moving quickly, she picked up the household fire extinguisher and ran out, Wolf at her heels.
“No, wait!” Burke ran after her, but she was already in the middle of the yard.
The rosebed was in flames, and Laura knew the small fire extinguisher she was holding would never be enough to contain it. The strong odor of charcoal-starting fluid told her the blaze had been deliberately set, and could spread to the wooden fence unless they worked quickly.
Hooking up the garden hose, Burke turned on the water and came to her side, soaking the flames with a heavy spray. Working together, they took less than five minutes to extinguish the burning plants. “Good thing you caught it before it got worse,” he said after soaking the ground and fence thoroughly just to make sure no embers remained. “There’s almost no damage to the fence.” He shut off the spray, then turned off the faucet. “Come on. Let’s go—”
Suddenly Wolf growled, a low throaty sound that sent a chill up Laura’s spine. In a heartbeat, the dog shot back into the house.
“Stay outside,” Burke ordered, drawing his weapon and running after Wolf.
As soon as they were inside, Laura followed slowly and carefully. She would stay out of their way, but she had to see what had triggered Wolf. It was her house, after all. She walked through the kitchen on tiptoe, but when she entered the living room came face-to-face with Burke’s gun.
“I told you to stay put!” he said, quickly tucking his weapon away.
“What happened? Did you see anyone in here?”
“No, but I figure the fire was a diversion. In the ten or so minutes we were outside, someone climbed through the open window into your office and went through the bookcase. I think he also downloaded some of your computer files, because the screen showed the main directory, but you’ll have to check on that yourself.”
She ran to her office and switched screens to the computer log, which showed recent operations. What she found made her blood run cold. Most of the text files in her word processing directory had been copied onto floppy disks.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she muttered, telling him what had happened. “You know, after all this is over, I’ve decided to move as far away from here as I can.”
“That would be a mistake,” he said, his voice suddenly hard. “You shouldn’t allow anyone to run you out.”
“You don’t understand. Too much has happened here already. The memories alone…” She shook her head.
“There are good memories here for you, too, Laura. Don’t let these people rob you of those. If you do, they’ve won.” And the truth was, he had his own reasons for wanting her to stay. The thought of never seeing her again left him feeling as if she’d reached inside him and torn out his heart.
“It’s not that simple. When I look around my home, I really feel my godmother’s absence. And then I remember that everyone I’ve ever loved leaves. Loving brings great happiness, but it always exacts an equal or greater amount of pain. From now on, I intend to go it alone. If I build my own security and happiness, it can’t be taken from me.”
Burke understood what she was feeling—but, even more importantly, he now knew that he had to let her go. In his type of work, there was never any security. Risk went hand in hand with having to strap on a gun every morning. He could try a nine-to-five office job, but he knew he’d be miserable. He wasn’t cut out for that.
The bottom line was that she deserved a different kind of life than what he could offer her. Pushing back the hurt that ripped through him, he focused on the job. It was all he had now.
Bringing out his cell phone, Burke called Wind, and learned that his fellow operative had kept tabs on Springer until he’d seen him heading down the interstate on his way out of town. He’d followed him for a while, making sure it wasn’t a ruse, then had headed back into town. Switching targets, he’d then concentrated on Al Baca, who tended to be more mobile at night.
Burke hung up, frustrated, and wishing that two operatives had been available, to watch both suspects full-time.
“I need to go see if Springer is at home,” Burke announced. He wouldn’t put it past the man to have pulled a fast one, though the likelihood that he’d spotted Wind was undeniably slim. “The person who was watching Springer has spent the last few hours staking out Baca, so we don’t know what Springer’s been up to. If he’s home, I’ll feel the hood of his car and see if he’s just returned from somewhere.”
“You think he might have set fire to my garden? But why?”
“Revenge.”
Laura shook her head. “You’re wrong. This wasn’t his doing. It’s not his style.”
“Probably not, but I still have to check.”
“I’m going with you. And if Ken’s really behind this, I’ll punch his lights out myself. I loved those roses.”
Burke forced himself not to laugh, certain that if he did, she’d slug him. But she was so small he had a hard time seeing her as a serious threat to a guy the size of Springer.
“Let’s go then.” He’d take care of her, and she deserved a chance to see this through.
Burke grabbed a flashlight from his gear, checked in with Handler to get Springer’s address, then drove across town with Laura and Wolf. For a short while, Burke thought he saw a blue van tailing them, but then the vehicle disappeared.
He was starting to get paranoid, that’s all there was to it.
The moon was high in a clear night sky as he drove to a newly developed area dotted with inexpensive cottages set on small lots. As they approached the house, he saw that there wasn’t a vehicle anywhere near the L-shaped, pueblo-style home.
Burke parked around the corner, three houses away from Springer’s house, and looked about for curious neighbors. Everyone seemed to be inside, minding their own business or asleep. “I’m going in on foot,” he said, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a pair of thin leather gloves. He signaled for Wolf to accompany him, and they got out of the vehicle.
“Ken’s obviously not there,” she said, climbing out quietly to join them. “The lights aren’t on, and his car’s not in the driveway or at the curb. What’s the point?”
“I still want to take a look around. There don’t appear to be dogs on this block, so I won’t disturb anyone, hopefully.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said.
“I’d much rather you stay at the corner and be my lookout. You can warn me if you see headlights approaching from either direction.” He handed her the car keys.
“You’ve got it,” Laura said. There was a telephone pole at the corner, and she could stand behind it, if need be, while keeping watch.
Burke looked around again to assure himself there weren’t curious neighbors peeking out th
eir windows, then rounded the corner. He went up the driveway, then circled the house, which, like most of the homes in the area, still didn’t have a fence or wall around the yard. Wolf, used to sentry duty, was alert to sounds and movement, and worked quickly with Burke.
Assured at last that no one was home, Burke put on the leather gloves, went to the back door and tried the handle. It was locked.
Seeing a large, flat rock beside the concrete pad that served as a back porch, he looked underneath. Sure enough, there was a key, placed inside a flattened plastic pill bottle to keep it from rusting.
He unlocked the door, then placed the key back where he’d found it, making sure everything looked undisturbed, then went inside, Wolf leading the way.
Burke used the flashlight he’d brought with him to make a cursory search of the house. It was sparsely furnished. The leather recliner and sofa in the den seemed most used, and on the far wall opposite the recliner was a wide-screen TV and expensive-looking sound system. With a bookstand full of sports magazines and a remote control device containing as many buttons as a computer keyboard, the place looked like a typical bachelor’s home. Nothing merited more than a glance as Burke went to the only room furnished as a bedroom, and opened the closet.
Inside he found clothing, and a camera bag on a shelf—nothing out of the ordinary. He was thinking of checking elsewhere when the beam of his flashlight fell on the back of the closet door. It was filled from top to bottom with tack holes.
Curious, he took a closer look. Springer had fastened something here, where it couldn’t be seen unless the door was open, and Burke was determined to find out what it was. As he stepped back to get a better perspective, something shiny on the carpet caught his eye. He picked it up and saw that it was a corner of a photograph, with a tack still attached to it.
Burke looked around and found a wastebasket beside the dresser. He dumped the contents onto the carpet and saw that the basket had been filled with dozens of photos of Laura, all with tack holes in their corners. The photos had been taken with a telephoto lens, and showed Laura in several places—shopping, at the post office and working in the front yard.
Several showed her inside the house, and one shot was of Laura standing outside the shower, naked. The dark lines cutting across her body told him that the picture had been taken by carefully aiming the camera through the blinds.
Burke fought the anger that swelled inside him. Hearing a vehicle in the driveway, he put the last photo in his pocket, returned the rest to the wastebasket and put it back in its spot.
Calling to Wolf, Burke hurried through the house and went out the back door, locking it from the inside. As they went around the corner, he saw the agency car. Laura was at the wheel. She’d left the headlights off, but she was obviously coming to warn him.
He and Wolf were in the car within ten seconds.
“I saw headlights in the distance,” Laura said. “We don’t have much time.”
She backed out of the driveway quickly, then drove around the corner, driving two more blocks before turning on the headlights.
“Did you find anything?” she asked excitedly.
He hesitated.
“You did find something.” Her voice went up an octave. “What?”
“First, let’s get out of this neighborhood, then we’ll talk. There’s a through street ahead. Take a left, and keep going until we eventually reach Main Street. After that, pull into the first parking lot you see and I’ll take the wheel.”
Laura didn’t argue, and that was a major win as far as he was concerned. He kept his eyes on the road behind them as she drove through the sparsely populated, hilly area on the northeast side of Farmington. No one seemed to be following them, so they must have made a clean getaway.
Then he saw headlights. There was a van a few hundred yards behind them on the isolated road. An icy chill touched his spine. After they’d left Laura’s neighborhood, he’d thought he’d seen a van, but it had turned down a side road and he’d dismissed it. Yet spotting another dark-colored van behind them now on this nearly rural stretch of road worried him.
She glanced at him. “Give me a hint, at least.”
“Excuse me?” he asked. She couldn’t have read his thoughts this quickly. If she had, maybe it was time to hand in his P.I. license.
“What did you find in Ken’s house?”
“He was obviously obsessed with you. But what I saw there suggests he may have changed his mind, and is finally getting his head together and moving on.”
“What makes you think that?”
“We’ll talk later,” he said, pointing ahead to a convenience store beside an intersection. “Pull in there and I’ll take the wheel.”
As she entered the parking lot, Burke looked ahead, then behind them. They appeared to be alone, except for the night clerk inside the store. Burke breathed a silent sigh of relief. There was no doubt about it, he was getting paranoid—an occupational hazard for cops and P.I.s.
“You sounded upset when I picked you up at Ken’s house. Something you found there really bugged you. What was it?” she pressed.
He gave her the quick version, then pulled the photo from his pocket. “I was going to destroy this, but I’m going to show it to you first because you’ve got a right to know, and because it’ll show you what you need to watch out for in the future.”
She stared at the photo he’d taken from Ken’s house. It wasn’t a clear, high quality photo, but despite the dark lines that crisscrossed her body, she was completely exposed. In the bright lights of the convenience store parking lot, it seemed all the more shocking.
“That slimeball!” She shredded the photo until the tiny pieces lay on her lap like confetti. “He must have sneaked right up to the blinds and angled it precisely. I usually leave them cracked a bit so I can still get some outside light.” Rage filled her. “Well, that does it. I’m pressing charges.”
“You can’t,” he said firmly. “At least not with this as evidence.”
She looked at the scattered fragments. “Oh. Right. Maybe I can tape it together—no wait. Then I’d have to show it to other people, like lawyers and policemen.” She shuddered. “I can’t do that.”
“It’s not just that, Laura. I got it during an illegal search. I found his house key and let myself in. He could prosecute me just as easily for being in his house.” Burke paused. “That was the worst of the lot. But the good news is that he’d already thrown all of them into the trash. If he’d gotten rid of them just because he was afraid someone would find them, he would have burned them. What this indicates is that he’s decided not to focus on you anymore—in more ways than one. I doubt that you’ll have any more problems with him.” In fact, Burke intended to see to it personally. If Springer so much as came within a mile of Laura, he’d pull him apart limb from limb.
Laura said nothing for a long moment. “All right. What you’ve said makes sense. I hate that he did this, but it’s over—at least as far as Ken is concerned,” she added. “Let’s get out of here.”
As they got out of the car to switch seats, Burke heard the sound of an engine revving up. Suddenly the van came out from behind the building with a roar, squealing its tires as it turned sharply toward them. Burke grabbed Laura and shoved her back inside the car.
Pulling out his gun, he braced himself, locking his hands into firing position as the van bore down on him.
“Burke, run!” she screamed.
He blocked out the sound of her voice and rapidly fired two rounds. The windshield of the vehicle shattered, but the van continued toward him.
Burke dove underneath the agency car just as the van sideswiped the passenger side, ricocheting off with a loud thump.
Burke rolled and came out on the driver’s side, unhurt. He was inside the agency car a few breaths later. The van was hurtling away at high speed.
“Are you okay?” Burke looked Laura over quickly, and seeing her nod shakily, breathed again. “We’re going after him. Hang o
n.”
Chapter Sixteen
Despite his best intentions, by the time they reached the next intersection, a mile down the road, the van was nowhere to be seen. The van driver had turned off his headlights, and in the darkness, surrounded by hilly terrain, the vehicle was all but invisible now.
Burke drove down both streets, searching, in case the driver had merely pulled off the road. After about five minutes, it was obvious they weren’t going to find him.
“Did you get a look at the driver?” Burke asked her. He had, but he wanted to know if she’d be able to corroborate his statement.
She shook her head. “All I really saw was the van barreling down on us. And when I realized it was going to sideswipe us, I dove across the seat and closed my eyes. Sorry. It was an automatic response.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I should have handled this better, Burke,” she said, clearly annoyed with herself. “You stood up to him. You didn’t duck and close your eyes.”
He grinned. “Are you kidding? Sure I ducked! I didn’t cover my eyes, but that’s just ’cause it’s not in my nature.”
Laura nodded, her expression grim. “I’ll do better next time.”
Burke smiled. Somehow, he didn’t doubt she would.
“Who was the driver? Ken?” she asked.
“No. It was Michael Enesco.”
She stared at him for a moment, the knowledge sinking in. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. All the way down to his cold expression. I believe running over someone comes naturally for him.”
“Then we have to call the police. He tried to kill us. The man can explain his reasons from a jail cell.”
“I’m not calling the cops—not yet, anyway. First I want to see if I can track him down. I need to find out who else is working with him, and if he’s behind bars, there’s little chance we’ll get any answers. If he’s a foreign agent, the cops aren’t going to get much out of him. He’s been trained to withstand an ordinary interrogation.”