Good Night Sleep Tight Don't Let the Stalkers Bite (Charlie Bannerman Mysteries)

by Teresa Watson

“He got my uniform dirty. And it was an unprovoked attack from behind.”

  He snorted. “Always justification to give a guy a black eye.” He left laughing.

  I got the feeling he didn’t trust me very much.

  Chapter 13

  Sydney came back in as soon as he left. “What did he say?”

  “Nothing we didn’t already know. He did tell me that Cash reported Deja missing this morning.”

  “Really?”

  “He told Bernie they got into a fight Tuesday night and she stormed out. He hasn’t seen her since.”

  “Man, she must be really pissed.”

  “There is one other thing. Bernie said that the coroner believes the body they haven’t identified yet is female.”

  Sydney’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Yeah.”

  Aspen and Nikki came into the room, followed by Duke. “Hey, Charlie,” Aspen said, bouncing up and down on her toes like she was jogging in place. “Nikki and I were wondering if we could take Duke out for some exercise.”

  “Sure, but make sure you keep him on his leash and don’t let him run loose, especially around Mrs. Rodriguez’ house or you’ll have to get her cat out of the tree. Hi, Nikki.”

  “Hi, Ms. Bannerman. How are you feeling?”

  “Please, call me Charlie. Very sore, I’m afraid.”

  “Is it true your car blew up?” she asked.

  “Nikki!” Sydney said.

  “Sorry,” Nikki mumbled.

  “It’s okay, Sydney. Yes, it’s true. Little purple pieces rained all over the newspaper office.”

  “Wow, cool. I mean, well…we’ve been studying explosive components in our college physics class lately. I would have liked to see it just to study it. For scientific purposes only, of course!”

  “Come on, Nikki,” Aspen said, grabbing her friend’s arm and dragging her out of the room.

  “That girl is weird,” Sydney said after they left.

  “It sounds like she spends too much time on her studies, very little time on her social life.”

  “Aspen tries to drag her out whenever she can, but Nikki rarely leaves their room except for classes and meals. I don’t think she’s ever been out on a date.”

  “I think it is great that Aspen tries to include her in things,” I replied. “If anyone can draw her out of her shell, it’s Aspen.”

  “So, what would you like to do this morning?”

  “Nothing. This is about as much as I can handle right now. I am in too much pain to do anything.”

  “Then I will just sit here with you, keep you company, and watch a movie with you until the girls get back. I have an appointment this afternoon, and they plan to go shopping. Well, Aspen is going to shop; Nikki is just going to follow her around.”

  The girls were only gone fifteen minutes, however, and soon I found myself sitting there, alone, which was not a good thing, because I allowed those thoughts I had been thinking when Bernie was there to come to the surface.

  Deja, missing since Tuesday night. The coroner saying the body recovered from the explosion was a female. Anyone besides me out there thinking the body was Deja’s?

  The bigger question, of course, was how she got in my car in the first place. There was only a short window of time between the time I entered the newspaper office and the time I came out. Thirty minutes max.

  Was she waiting to talk to me? Did someone put her IN the car? If they did that, was she conscious? Or was she already dead before the car blew up? I shuddered. It was certainly a far more pleasant idea than to think that she was in there alive and helpless.

  All of this was supposition. I had no proof that it was Deja in there. For all I knew, she was hiding out at her apartment, refusing to talk to Cash. But he probably had a key to her apartment, and had already checked it out.

  So where was she?

  A knock on the bedroom door snapped me out of my depressing thoughts, and I looked up to find Keaton standing in the doorway. “I need to attach a sensor to your bedroom window,” he explained, “for the security system.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  He gave me a funny look as he walked to the window. It only took a couple of minutes. “You ok?” he said as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Yes, why?”

  “You look troubled, that’s all. Something on your mind?”

  “Yes. I mean, no. Maybe.”

  He laughed. “Well, that’s definite, isn’t it?”

  I put my hands over my face and groaned. “I’m sorry, my mind is just spinning right now, and it’s giving me a headache.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m afraid if I say it out loud. It will either sound really stupid or turn out to be true.”

  “Sounds like some heady stuff. Why don’t I fix us some lunch and we can talk about it? Did you take your medicine yet?”

  “Um, no.”

  He left the room for a minute, came back with a glass of water, handed it to me and grabbed the pill bottle. “Here, take this,” he ordered. I obediently swallowed the pill. “Watch a movie or something. We’re almost done with the installation, and I’ll find something for lunch.”

  “Good luck with that. I never made it to the store. That was where I was going after I got done at the newspaper office.”

  “Well, there is some leftover green chili casserole. We can have that for lunch, and I’ll figure something out for dinner. You just rest.”

  I thought he was being a bit bossy, but I wasn’t in any position to really argue that point. I restarted ‘Rio Bravo’, got to the part where Ward Bond dies and went to sleep again.

  Chapter 14

  I walked out of the newspaper office, around the corner, got the keys out, looked up, saw a person in the car and then BOOM!

  I woke up screaming. One thing about my dreams: they are always vivid, in color and very realistic. I lay there, clutching my pillow, trying to will the image of the person in my car away. It didn’t work. Damn.

  I didn’t get a better look at the person in my car in my sleep than I did when it happened. Yet I knew that it was Deja Taylor. Don’t ask me how I knew. Just a gut feeling I have. Deja wasn’t missing. She was dead.

  Sliding my legs out of bed, I slowly pushed myself up. Oh my gosh, this hurts. If I didn’t really need to go to the bathroom, I’d get back in bed. But I shuffled forward, making it to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. Ugh. Definitely a mess. I took care of things, and picked up my brush. But I couldn’t even raise my arms above my head. Sad.

  Walking out with the brush in my hands, I picked up my fuzzy robe and five minutes later, I had it on. I made my way to the living room and eased myself into the recliner. The front door opened and Keaton came into the room with some grocery bags. He almost dropped them when he closed the door and saw me sitting there. “What are you doing up?”

  “Nightmare.”

  “About yesterday?” I nodded. “I’m sorry, Charlie.” He took the bags into the kitchen and came back, sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. “Tell me about it.”

  “There’s nothing to tell. I come out of the office, walk around the corner, take out my keys, look up and it explodes.”

  “Not something you want to relive over and over.”

  “Did you know Deja Taylor is missing?”

  “No. How did you hear about it?”

  “Bernie told me Cash reported her missing this morning. Except I don’t think she is missing.” Keaton gave me a questioning look. “I think was in my car when it blew.”

  Keaton’s eyes widened in surprise. “Are you serious? Did Bernie say that?”

  “I didn’t say anything to Bernie about it. It was just something he said. Cash told him that Deja is never gone longer than twelve hours. She left Cash’s apartment Tuesday night; he reported her missing thirty-six hours later. Bernie says the coroner be
lieves the unidentified body is a female. Coincidence?”

  “It could be.”

  “So I shouldn’t tell Bernie that I think it is Deja?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  We sat there for a couple of minutes, not sure what to say. “Give me your phone,” I said, holding out my hand. He gave it to me and I quickly dialed Bernie’s number before I could change my mind. “Bernie? It’s Charlie. I think Deja Taylor is the person in the morgue.”

  Bernie was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “Are you a mind reader or something?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just got a call from the coroner’s office. He told me it was Deja.”

  I dropped the phone and Keaton picked it up. He talked to Bernie for a minute and hung up. “Oh, boy. Cash is going to go nuts.”

  “I know.”

  “He’s going to blame you.”

  “I know.”

  “Bernie said you should go ahead and get that restraining order now. If Cash comes after you, Bernie can at least throw him in jail to cool off.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Do you have a lawyer?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll call mine. He can file it for you.” He got up and went into the kitchen to make the call. I just sat there. I was numb. I had never known anyone who had been killed before. Granted, Deja and I were not the best of friends, but death wasn’t anything that I would wish on my worst enemy. There was one other thought that was bouncing around in my head, and I really didn’t like that one.

  Was it possible that Cash was responsible for Deja’s death? Not a pleasant thought, especially since I knew he was going to blame me because it was my car. Logical people would realize I had nothing to do with it. But no one ever said Cash was a logical person.

  Keaton came back in. “He’ll take care of it within the hour and they’ll give a copy of the order to Cash.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate you doing this.”

  “Glad I could help,” he replied. “Have you thought about staying with your parents for a while?”

  “I couldn’t do that to them. I don’t want them in the line of fire. Besides, this is my home. I’m not going to be chased out.”

  “I can respect that, but there is a point where your safety has to overcome your bravery.”

  “I’m not brave, just stubborn.”

  “And hungry, I’m sure, since you slept through lunch. Do you want me to heat up the casserole and make something fresh?”

  “Honestly, I just want to go lay down right now.”

  Keaton stood up and held out his hand. “Let me help you.” He helped me ease out of the recliner, and held me up while we walked back to the bedroom. He slid my robe off and I slowly got back into bed. “I’ll heat up some food and we’ll watch a movie.”

  I nodded and he left the room. My cell phone vibrated on the bedside table, and I leaned over to grab it. It was a text message from Bernie: ‘Cash knows’. Oh great. That meant I could expect a raving lunatic at any time.

  The smell of Mom’s casserole preceded Keaton into the room. “You might want to turn on the alarm,” I said. “I just got a text message from Bernie. He says Cash knows about Deja. It was his way of warning me that Cash is on the warpath.”

  “I already did,” Keaton said, putting the tray across my lap. He grabbed a bowl for himself, pulled the oversized chair that was in the corner closer to the bed and sat down. “We’re safe. Bernie will probably beef up patrols around your house for a while. Besides, I’m sure Cash’s first reaction will be to get drunk.”

  Somehow, that didn’t give me much comfort.

  Chapter 15

  I got a phone call from Sarah, who complained about Isabella Tracy and how she kept controlling the interview, telling Sarah what she could and could not write. I sympathized with her, and was very glad that I hadn’t had to do that interview.

  I hoped Duke was enjoying himself at my parents’ house. Keaton said Sydney took him over there for a while because she was afraid I would trip over him and hurt myself. While I agreed with her about the tripping part, I missed having the big lug around. And with the threat of Cash hanging over me, I’d rather have Duke here.

  Dr. Lance called to make sure I was following his orders; Keaton assured him I was. I was resting; I just wasn’t taking the medication like he wanted me to. Now was not the time to be under the influence of strong narcotics, because I had a feeling I would need all my wits about me in the coming days.

  Sydney showed up around 8 p.m. and joined us in the bedroom. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’ve had better days. How is Duke?”

  “When I left him at your parents’ house, he was chasing squirrels all over the backyard.”

  “He’s deliriously happy then.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Have you heard the latest news?”

  She shook her head. “I was at the office most of the day.”

  “They have identified the body that was in my car.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Deja Taylor.”

  She gasped. “Are you SERIOUS?”

  “Charlie figured it out before Bernie told her,” Keaton said. “And Cash knows.”

  “Oh, boy. This is going to get messy, isn’t it?”

  Keaton nodded. “I had my lawyer file for a restraining order, per Bernie’s suggestion. They are just trying to find Cash to give it to him.”

  “That’s not going to make him happy,” Sydney said.

  “I know.”

  “Are you sure you won’t reconsider and come to my place?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m sure. The new security alarm is installed, Braden will be patrolling and Keaton will be here. I can’t get much safer.” Boy, I hope I’m right about that one.

  “Well, I brought something over to cheer you up,” Sydney said, reaching into her bag. She pulled out some DVDs. “It’s time we had a Monty Python marathon.”

  “Oh gosh, I don’t know if that is a good idea,” I said. “All that laughing is going to hurt my broken ribs.”

  “You always tell me that laughter is good for whatever ails you. So we are going to yuck it up.”

  The front doorbell rang and we all froze. I grabbed my cell phone, ready to dial 911. “Just stay here and be quiet,” Keaton whispered before he left the room.

  “Where’s your baseball bat?” Sydney said. I pointed to the closet. Sydney slipped off her heels, walked to the closet and grabbed it. She positioned herself beside the door, the bat raised above her shoulder just like our high school softball coach taught us. Whoever she aimed that thing at was going to get hurt – Sydney had been the best hitter on our team.

  We heard voices coming down the hall, and Sydney got ready to swing. Keaton saw her just before she did. “WHOA! It’s ok! Give me that thing,” he added, snatching the bat from her. “Are you trying to kill someone?”

  “Just trying to help!”

  Braden appeared in the doorway. “Better watch it, Keaton. She has a killer swing.” More flirting…geez, just get married already! He came over and knelt by the bed. “Hey Sis, how are you?” he asked, leaning over to kiss my cheek.

  “I’m ok.”

  He squeezed my hand. “I heard you figured out who was in your car.”

  “Lucky guess.”

  “Bernie was impressed. He said he told you to get a restraining order. I just wanted to let you know that I gave it to Cash personally.”

  “How did he take it?”

  “Well, he looked at me, ripped up the order, threw it in my face and walked off laughing.”

  “Oh, boy.”

  “That’s what I thought. So I decided to stop by and check on you, but I see you are well protected. I noticed the security alarm when I came in. Where’s Duke?”

  “I took him over to your parents’ house,” Sydney said. “I was afraid that Charlie would trip over him and hurt herself more. I thought it would be better if he weren’t under foot.
”

  “It might be better if he were here. He hates Cash, and he’ll defend Charlie as much as you two will. I’ll swing by there and pick him up in the morning after my shift is over.”

  “Thanks, Braden. I miss him. Hard to sleep without him here.”

  “Rachel heard that you broke Cash’s nose, and she heard about what happened yesterday. She sent over a whole pecan pie for you. She also says if you give her enough warning, she’ll be glad to send some meals over so you don’t starve to death.”

  “That is so nice of her! Please give her my thanks…and give me that pie!”

  Braden laughed as he stood up. “It’s in the kitchen. I even stopped at the store and got some Cool Whip for you because I knew you would want some right away.”

  I looked at Keaton and Sydney. “Would you guys excuse us for a minute? I’d like to talk to Braden alone for a minute.” I waited until they left before motioning him to sit down on the bed. “Braden, I want the truth. Is that restraining order going to do any good?”

  “It’s just a piece of paper, Charlie. It’s supposed to put this boundary around you that he isn’t supposed to cross, but guys like Cash don’t care about boundaries.”

  “Was he mad?”

  Braden thought about it a moment. “It’s hard to say. He didn’t care about the restraining order; he thought it was a big joke. He didn’t say anything about you specifically, although it bothers me that he tore up YOUR restraining order. It puts me on edge a bit.”

  “If you were me, what would you do?”

  “I’m a guy, Charlie. What I would do and what you should do are two different things.”

  “Pretend you’re me for a minute. What would you do?”

  He stared at me for a minute. “I know what you want me to tell you, Charlie. You want me to tell you that it’s okay to run and hide. And as your big brother, there is a part of me that wants to tell you to do that. But I know you. That’s not who you are. You won’t leave someone behind to fight your battles for you. You’ll let them fight with you, but not in your place.”

  “I’m not exactly in good physical shape right now, Braden, so technically, there will be people fighting in my place.”

  “And that bothers you.”