by Tim Kizer
They retrieved Doris’s suitcase from the baggage claim and headed for the parking garage. As they walked, Richard wondered where Mary’s mother was planning to stay. He had a feeling she was going to crash at his place.
When they got in the car, Doris said, "I hate flying. The whole flight I was afraid the plane would go down. I'm a terrible coward." She took a bottle of perfume from her purse and sprayed some perfume on her neck and chest.
"How are things in Fresno?" Richard asked as he drove through the garage.
"Not bad. It’s getting hotter by the day." Doris rolled down the window and stuck her elbow out. “Are you a good driver?”
“I believe so.”
“Great.”
After a hesitation, Richard asked, “Have you booked a hotel room?”
Doris shook her head. “You don’t mind if I stay with you for a couple of days, do you?”
“No, of course not.” Richard clenched his teeth.
“What is Mary cooking for dinner today? I hope it’s something tasty. I’m so hungry.”
“She’s not cooking anything today.”
“Is she busy? Why didn't she come with you to the airport?"
"No, she’s not busy.” Richard glanced at Doris. “Didn’t Bob tell you what happened?”
“No, he didn’t tell me anything.”
Richard heaved a heavy sigh, and said, “Mary went missing."
"Who went missing?"
"Mary."
"When?" Doris gave him a worried look.
"Two and a half weeks ago."
"Two and a half weeks?" Doris drew her eyebrows together. "Are you sure? I just spoke to her on the phone."
"She called you? When?"
"Two days ago. She asked me to come here as soon as possible. I thought she needed my help with something.”
"Are you sure it was Mary?" Richard began to feel sick in the pit of his stomach.
"It was her voice. But if she went missing... So you haven't seen her in two weeks?"
"No, I haven't." Richard's hands became sweaty.
"Who do you think called me?"
Richard shrugged. "Maybe it was Mary. Perhaps she wants to meet you."
"Have you informed the police?"
"Of course. They’re looking for her, but with no success."
Doris had lost her mind. A dead woman couldn’t call her mother. It was impossible.
"Why nobody told me about it? Richard, you should have called me at once."
Or was it the ghost again? Why had it invited Doris here?
"I thought Bob would do that."
"Bob? You know Bob. You can’t rely on him.” Doris withdrew her cellphone from her purse and started pressing buttons on it. “Where could she be? And why did she leave you?”
“I have no clue.”
“Did you have a fight?”
“No.”
Doris put her phone to her ear. About ten seconds later, she said, “No one’s answering.” The she hung up.
“Who did you call?”
“I called the number Mary called me from.”
“Tell me the number.”
It must be a payphone, too.
Doris read the number aloud off the cellphone display. Richard didn’t recognize it.
“Do you know who it belongs to?” Doris asked.
Richard shook his head.
At this moment, an excellent idea flashed in his mind: Doris could replace Jane as a witness. She would tell Norris that Mary was alive two days ago.
Feeling perked up, Richard said, "I think you should tell the police that Mary called you.”
“You think it’s important?”
“I’m sure they’d like to know about it. This information might help them find her.”
"Okay. I'll do it tomorrow."
Richard smiled; he was overcome by the urge to squeeze Doris in his arms and give her a dozen kisses. One could say she saved him.
Right now, he didn’t care who had phoned Doris.
3.
"I'm so tired and hungry," Doris said when they were in the living room. "You’ve got a nice place here." She sat down on the sofa.
Richard went to the kitchen to make tea and fry some eggs for Doris. While he was busy cooking, Doris took a quick tour of the house.
"I really like your place," she said, watching Richard transfer the eggs from the pan to a plate. "I wish I could stay here for a week.” She picked up the plate. “Would you mind if I stayed here? Or maybe I should stay at Bob's."
She obviously expected Richard to say that she could stay at his house as long as she pleased. But Richard didn't want her here. Tomorrow she would meet with Norris, and after that he had no need for her.
“Do you think that Mary will come back in a week?” Richard asked.
“You think she won’t?”
Richard shrugged.
"How old do I look to you?" Doris asked after she placed the plate on the dining table.
Richard looked at her for a few seconds and said, "You don’t look a day over forty nine."
As far as he remembered, Mary’s mother was a couple of years shy of sixty. He figured that understating Doris’s age by ten years would help him score some points with her.
"Oh, you’re so polite, Richard. I personally think I look fifty two. And I feel forty five.”
Frankly, she was wrong. She looked much older than fifty two.
“I stand by my words. You look great, Doris.”
A big grin appeared on the woman’s face.
“You must have never seen a forty-nine-year-old woman. You don't have to flatter me."
Richard poured himself a glass of apple juice. Doris dug into the fried eggs.
"The important thing is, Mary's alive,” Doris said. "Maybe she'll come back when she sees that I'm here."
"I hope so."
4.
"Where am I going to sleep?" Doris asked at half past eleven. "I'm not a picky woman. All I need is a place to lie down and something to cover myself with."
Richard led Doris to a guest bedroom on the second floor and asked her if she liked it. Doris was pleased with the room.
"I love your furniture,” she said. “Was it you who chose it or Mary? It must have cost you a pretty penny.”
Since Richard had been in charge of the interior decoration of the house, Doris’s comment made him feel proud of himself.
5.
Richard woke up in the middle of the night, roused by noises coming from the hallway. Someone was walking around the house!
Richard's second thought was: it was probably just the wind. Or maybe Doris went to the kitchen to get a snack. After debating with himself for a few moments, he decided not to go out and check what had caused the noises. Then he remembered Jane, and his body immediately broke out in a cold sweat.
They had murdered Jane to silence her and nothing would prevent them from killing Doris. Right now, she was the only witness who could confirm that Mary was alive two days ago, and he couldn't lose her. Richard slipped off the bed and, without putting on a robe, clad in nothing but a T-shirt and underpants, ran out of the bedroom. First he checked on Doris. Thankfully, Mary’s mother was alive: Richard saw her arms move and heard her quiet snoring. Then he searched the entire house and, to his relief, found no intruders.
He grabbed a bottle of iced tea from the refrigerator and headed back to the master bedroom.
Was Doris a healthy woman? What were the chances that she would die of a heart attack? It would be quite unfortunate if Doris croaked tomorrow morning.
Richard heaved a tired sigh. He couldn’t wait for dawn to come.
6.
"I appreciate you coming here, Richard,” Norris said. “I understand that you’re busy, but there are a couple of things I need to discuss with you as soon as possible.”
"No problem."
Richard lied. He hated being here.
Norris had called this morning and asked him to come to the sheriff’s office at one o
’clock in the afternoon.
Did Norris have no other cases to investigate? Why the hell was Mary Brower so important to him? He had said that the police did not look for runaway wives, hadn’t he?
Thankfully, Richard had something to be happy about: Doris had told him that she had visited the sheriff’s office and talked to Norris.
Norris opened the manila folder lying in front of him, and said, "A while ago I received an anonymous letter. It reads—" He peered into Richard’s face, as if trying to read his mind. "Did you know that someone wants to put you in prison?"
"What do you mean?"
"This letter says that you strangled your wife and buried her body.” Norris leaned forward. “Let me tell you a secret: this letter was the reason why I gave you such a hard time earlier. Before I received it, I didn't consider you a viable suspect. Frankly, I believed your wife was alive.”
Richard froze. Who the hell had written this letter?
"When did you receive it?" Richard asked.
Maybe he made this letter up. Cops were legally allowed to lie to suspects.
"A week ago." Norris turned a few pages in the folder. "I’m a straightforward guy. I’m not afraid to admit mistakes.” He settled back in his chair. “Now I realize that this letter is misleading. And thanks to your mother-in-law, I’ve revised my position with respect to your involvement in Mary’s disappearance. I no longer suspect you of murdering your wife."
"Thank you. I appreciate that."
"But Doris Logan’s testimony wasn't the only reason why I changed my position. I just learned that four days ago your wife withdrew about ten thousand dollars from her bank account. Did you know that Mary had an account at Chase Bank?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“Well, I guess she wanted to keep it secret from you.”
He paused for a few seconds, giving Richard an opportunity to express his opinion. But Richard was silent, puzzled by what he had just heard.
“She made the withdrawal at a branch in Renton,” Norris continued. “The current balance in that account is eight dollars and change.”
"It happened four days ago?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure it was Mary?"
"Yes, we are. Our forensic expert examined the signature on the withdrawal slip and confirmed that it belonged to your wife. Besides, the bank teller checked the woman’s identity."
"Thank God she's alive." Richard straightened his back and drew a deep breath. “I’m so glad this nightmare is finally over.”
"I'm beginning to believe that Mary left you for someone else. Perhaps she gave that money to her lover.”
Ten grand. Mary had never told him she had such a large amount of money in her account. Richard hadn’t expected her to have that kind of cash. Obviously, Mary was much better at saving than he had thought.
An image of a squirrel tucking away nuts appeared in Richard’s mind.
"As I said, I don’t think that Mary has a lover," Richard said.
Why had she withdrawn the money?
She has decided to go off the grid. She doesn’t want to be tracked down, that’s why.
"I understand it’s hard for you to accept this idea. Women cheat on their husbands, it’s a fact of life. You're not the first one to have a cheating wife and certainly not the last one."
“Is this new information going to help you find Mary?”
“Probably. And I’ll still keep an eye on you, Richard. Please understand, it’s nothing personal. As you see, I’m completely honest with you. I expect the same honesty from you."
After a short pause, Richard replied, "Thank you for being honest."
"I'm giving you food for thought, Richard. I want you know that I won't stop until I find your wife, dead or alive."
"I’m glad to hear that."
"As for this letter." Norris rocked in his chair. "Do you have any ideas about who wrote it?"
Richard shook his head. “No. Can I see it?”
“The letter was typed on a computer, so I see no point in you looking at it.”
“All right.”
"I must say you have cruel enemies. I wonder what you’ve done to make them so angry."
"Everyone has enemies."
"Yes, I agree with you." Norris paused. “I’d be very very careful if I were you. I don’t think these guys are done with you.”
7.
Thank God, he’d been saved! Now he could breathe easy, although he was not sure if this period of calm was going to last.
Who had withdrawn the money? What if it really was Mary and not some scammer with a fake driver’s license in Mary’s name who was good at forging signatures? She must have run out of cash. It was expensive to live on your own, you know.
Or maybe her lover had run out of money.
Don! Richard had almost forgotten about him. This bastard was still out there, probably concocting another nefarious scheme together with Mary.
What if Mary decided to avenge herself on him? Taking into account that she had a helper, Don, she might be able to pull this off.
Did Mary know his big secret? He wouldn’t be surprised if she did. Perhaps that was why she had been so scared of him that night.
Maybe he should leave town for a while? Go into hiding until the danger passed. How long would he have to hide? It was hard to tell. Maybe a month, maybe three months.
He wasn’t a suspect in Mary’s case anymore, so the police should have no problem with him disappearing.
What about the letter Norris had received? Who had written it?
Norris was absolutely right: someone was trying to bring him down, to make him suffer. There was a conspiracy. A real conspiracy.
Were the avengers behind it?
When Richard parked his car in the garage, an idea came to his mind. He should write an anonymous letter, too.
Let’s stir the shit up.
Who would his target be?
Why not Bob Logan? Being an ex-convict, Bob was a suitable candidate for the part of Mary’s killer. The fact that he was Mary's brother changed nothing: there were plenty of people who hated their siblings to death. It wasn’t so hard to imagine the following scenario: Bob and Mary began arguing about something, things got heated, Mary slapped her brother in the face, he responded in kind, and then a full-blown fight broke out which resulted in murder.
Chances were Norris would want to take a closer look at Bob after reading the letter.
Could Bob end up convicted of Mary’s murder? Absolutely not. The evidence was simply not there.
When would he mail the letter? Next week. Wednesday or Thursday of next week. He would drop it into a mailbox at least ten miles from Mill Creek.
It took Richard twenty minutes to write the letter. It read:
"To Whom It May Concern:
I’m writing this to give you important information regarding Mary Brower, who went missing a few weeks ago. I can’t keep silent anymore. I must inform you that she was murdered by her brother, Robert Logan. Robert had numerous fights with Mary because of his money problems. He often spoke of his desire to kill Mary. I hope Robert Logan will be brought to justice."
He had read that the police had methods to identify the printer used to print a certain document, so he decided to print the letter at a FedEx Office Print & Ship center. After studying the list of nearby FedEx locations, he picked the center in Kirkland, fifteen miles from his house.
In order not to leave his fingerprints, Richard put on driver gloves before taking the letter from the printer.
As he drove home, Richard noted to himself that he was terribly exhausted. He was tired of all this bizarre crap happening around him. He was tired of Norris, too. He needed some rest.
It was time to get out of this town.
How about a trip to Vegas? He would rent a hotel room under a fake name so the avengers couldn’t find him.
Richard liked the idea of going to Las Vegas.
Was it time to leave Washington for g
ood? He was inclined to believe that it was. He didn’t want to wait for conclusive proof that the avengers had tracked him down. His life was at stake, and he was not taking chances with his life. As they say, better safe than sorry.
Yes, that’s right—better safe than sorry.
He would list the house for sale as soon as he came back from Las Vegas.
Although he lived in a good neighborhood where house robberies and break-ins were rare, Richard decided to ask Tina Dystel to keep an eye on his place and collect his mail. It was not the most effective way to prevent theft, but since it would only cost him a bottle of wine, he saw no reason not to do it.
CHAPTER 14
1.
“One fine day they put the guy to sleep and drown him in the tub. Then they toss his body in the pool. There was a pool near the school, you see. Three days pass, but no one finds the body. His wife gets awfully scared because it looks like the body disappeared. She tells Sharon Stone, her accomplice, that something must be wrong. Sharon Stone says that everything’s fine, that she should relax. The wife starts to panic. And as I already said, she has a weak heart. Then she finds out that someone saw her husband, her dead husband, at a gas station. Well, to make a long story short, one day her husband shows up alive and well. Her husband came back from the dead, can you imagine that! And since she has a weak heart, she almost dies of a heart attack."
"And how did the husband come back to life?"
"The husband was never dead. It turned out that he conspired with Sharon Stone to kill his wife. They wanted to scare that woman to death, you see."
"You said they drowned him. How did he survive?"
"Sharon Stone injected him with a special substance that kept him from dying underwater."
Richard woke up. There was dead silence in the bedroom, the ashy moon hanging outside the window. He rose from the bed, switched on the light, then went to the bathroom. He splashed his face with cold water to drive away drowsiness, and sat down on the edge of the bathtub.
What was it? What had he dreamed about?
As he turned on the hot water, Richard suddenly remembered that he had heard the story from the dream before. He had overheard it from the woman who had sat in front of him on the plane to Las Vegas. She had described to her neighbor the plot of a thriller with Sharon Stone. At the time, he had paid little attention to the story, and now it surfaced in his memory.