“Camilla wants to come home, and so do I. We need to get back to work,” I said.
“I suppose you can. It’s been quiet; no, strike that—it’s been silent. Which isn’t always a good thing. But we can double up on your security, if Camilla wants to come back. I’ll talk to her.”
I looked behind me; Sam and the visitors were laughing together about some joke that one of them had told. “And I’d like to know why you need to have a car on both houses. Are you afraid that Lazos will come after us or is it something else? Because Sam has an alarm and a camera, and he feels confident he can protect me.”
Doug stared. “What do you mean?”
“I mean Cliff’s been parked outside Sam’s house every night, and Sam is feeling sensitive about it. Like maybe you guys don’t trust him or something.”
Doug donned the blank cop face that I found so frustrating. He was quiet for what felt like a full minute. Finally he said, “I’ll look into it.”
“What does that mean?”
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took it out with an apologetic glance at me. “Heller.” He turned away slightly, then said, “Hang on.” He turned back to me and said, “I’ve got to take this. I’ll talk to Camilla, and I’ll let you know about that other issue.”
He walked away, his posture tense as he talked to his unknown caller. “That other issue.” What did that even mean? No one in this town was making sense to me lately.
Our group headed back to the house for a leisurely dinner. Sam put on some jazz and poured wine while he grilled steaks on his back patio, and my father told us stories about his time in the army. Tabitha leaned her head on his shoulder and smiled at me, and for the first time in a long time I felt some tension ease out of me. Things were good. Things would stay good.
The phone rang, and Sam came in from the patio to pick it up. “Sam West,” he said, still clutching his barbecue fork.
He listened for a moment, then turned to us with a triumphant expression.
“They got him!” he said.
“Lazos?” I asked, dumbstruck.
“No. The bearded man.”
* * *
* * *
IN THE MORNING we drove my father and his wife to the airport. Tabitha had a few more bags than she’d had when she arrived, and my father grumbled slightly about how that would make life harder, but his face and his tone never matched the supposedly curmudgeonly words, and Tabitha knew it. She winked at us, and they both waved as they walked through the doors.
Sam looked at me and said, “Now we have an empty nest.”
I laughed. “It does sort of feel that way. But all people leave a hole when they go.”
“True. You ready to talk to Doug?”
“Yes. The sooner the better.”
Sam drove to the Blue Lake police station, located in the north end of town and surrounded by pine trees. There was a circular drive in front and a parking lot behind the building. Sam pulled into the circle drive and parked right in front of the door. “They can ticket me,” he said, looking slightly vengeful.
I couldn’t blame him. He and the BLPD had a rocky history.
We went inside and found a busy office filled with desks and ringing phones. A receptionist at the front counter asked how he could help us, and we said we were there to speak with Doug Heller.
The young man frowned. “Did you have an appointment? Because Detective Heller is booked all morning, and then I know he has to—”
A door opened at the back of the room, and Doug came out with Mayor Paul Wilding. I recognized him from newspaper coverage—I had never met the man.
I dug an elbow into Sam’s side, and he said, “Wow.”
The mayor walked toward us, and I made eye contact with Doug and gave him a wave. He called, “Jim? Let them come on back.”
The young man handed us visitor’s badges and lifted up part of the counter so that we could go in and the mayor could come out. He was a gray-haired man with a large belly. He was wearing a very expensive-looking suit. “Tell Rusty that I’ll talk to him later today,” the mayor told the young man named Jim.
Jim nodded and said, “Yes, sir, I will.”
Rusty was Bill “Rusty” Baxter, our current chief, who had once had red hair that had earned him his nickname. Now his hair was gray, like the mayor’s.
The mayor seemed to notice us for the first time. He raised his brows and held out a hand. “Mr. West,” he said. “I know Blue Lake has issued you some apologies, and I once made one on television, but I have never made one to your face. Please do accept my regrets.”
“Of course,” said Sam, ever gracious.
“And to you, too, young woman. Every man should have a woman in his life as loyal as you, I must say.”
I didn’t know what to say to that; I merely smiled.
“What brings you here?” the mayor asked, suddenly alert. Perhaps he feared that the police were tormenting Sam again.
Sam slipped an arm around me. “We received word that the police have apprehended a man who accosted Lena. We would like to know some details.”
The mayor moved closer, and I could smell his aftershave, which was clearly expensive. “I would like to know about this, as well. I’ll ask Douglas to keep me apprised. Whatever you need from us, Mr. West, you say the word. I read that article about that crazy Greek man who’s been going after you. It boggles the imagination, wouldn’t you say?”
He looked at me with some piercing gray eyes, and I nodded. I realized the mayor was quite charismatic.
He shook our hands again and said, “Whatever you need.” He pointed a finger at Sam, handed him a business card that he pulled out of his suit pocket, then marched out the front door.
“Wow,” I said.
Sam laughed a little as we made our way back to Doug’s office. He had left the door ajar, so we walked in to find a cluttered desk, a window view (more trees—a Blue Lake staple), and a framed map of Blue Lake on the east wall. On the west wall was a giant bulletin board filled with various notices and wanted posters. At the center of this was the smiling face of Nikon Lazos.
Doug, who was already seated at his desk and looking at a file, glanced up and smiled at us. “I’m glad you came in. Take a seat.” He gestured to two brown chairs that sat across from his desk. We sat down, waiting for him.
He didn’t waste our time. “We were right; it is Wally Kallis. We’ve got him in lockup and we’ve advised him that he can make a phone call, but he hasn’t asked to talk with anyone. In fact, he hasn’t talked at all.”
“Not even to tell you why he grabbed Lena?” Sam asked.
“Not even to verify his identity. The guy is a clam.” Doug smiled at us. “But here’s some interesting news. About half an hour ago, a lawyer showed up. He said he is representing Mr. Kallis, and that there has been a misunderstanding. I asked how this guy happened to know that Mr. Kallis was in custody, since he had not made a phone call. He said that he heard of the arrest on a police radio.”
“Bull,” Sam said.
Doug nodded. “Yeah, this one smells bad, but right now all we can do is wait them out. Neither one of them is saying much, but Mr. Kallis isn’t going anywhere until he does. Lena, if you’ll just verify that this is the man who grabbed you?” He pulled a mug shot out of the file in his hand and showed it to me.
“That is absolutely the man. I get chills just looking at him. And why is he smiling?” I asked, horrified.
“He doesn’t seem to be playing with a full deck,” Doug said thoughtfully. “Which makes you wonder why someone would take the risk of hiring him. He could mess things up, as he in fact did.”
I pushed the picture back toward Doug. “Put that away. You’re not going to let him go, are you?”
“No way. He tried to abduct you and he physically assaulted you. We’ll be charging him presently
. The lawyer is waiting for that, so he can figure out his next move.”
Sam nodded. “Thanks for filling us in. You got this guy—now just get Nikon. One down, one to go, right?”
“At least one. We’ll want to catch any other creepy little minions that Nikon has working for him. Who broke into your house, for example? It wasn’t this Wally, because he’s very tall, and the ninja was of medium height.”
“I temporarily forgot about the ninja,” Sam said, frowning.
Doug’s phone rang. His phone was always ringing. “Heller,” he said. His face looked tired again. I touched Sam’s arm, signaling that we should leave, and we stood up.
Doug held the phone away from his head and said, “I’ll talk with you guys soon.”
I paused. “Where’s Cliff today?”
“He’s on afternoon shift,” Doug said, and went back to his call.
We moved through the mass of people taking calls, typing reports, filling out forms. It was nice to see the people who kept Blue Lake safe every day.
Sam and I turned in our badges and walked back to our car. I climbed into the passenger seat. “I’ve got to call Camilla. She must be chomping at the bit to get back to Graham House.”
“I’ll bet Adam is trying to think of a million ways to stall her,” Sam said, grinning. “That’s how I feel about you leaving Sam House.”
I laughed. “Is that what it’s called? Well, I love Sam House. But Camilla’s place is currently my home. And I miss my cat. You and I can always visit back and forth, but poor Lestrade needs his attention.”
“Right. Hey, do you mind if I stop at Bick’s? I want to make sure I have backup batteries for my security camera.”
“Sure. I could use a new book to read. And I want to get some stamps so I can send a thank-you card to Dad and Tabby.”
Sam was quiet for a moment. “Do you think they liked me?” he finally said.
I turned in my seat, surprised. “I know they did. My father told me so, in fact. He likes you and trusts you, which is why he was able to leave.”
He nodded. “Good.” Then he smiled at me. “That’s really good. Everything is going according to plan.” He took his hands off the wheel and rubbed them together like an evil genius, and I laughed.
* * *
* * *
WE SEPARATED IN Bick’s, and I wandered back to the post office counter, where Marge was telling a story to some tourists. She loved sharing horrifying true crime tales that she watched on Dateline. “And the bride’s body was never found,” she intoned as she handed them their receipt.
“That’s terrible,” said the woman, who wore an Ohio sweatshirt. “What a horrible story.”
Marge shrugged. “Oh, every week it’s a different one. Makes you wonder how many murderers you walk past on a given day.”
The tourists thanked her and walked away, looking demoralized. I gave Marge a stern look. “You shouldn’t scare the visitors,” I said.
She grinned. “Got to do something for entertainment, stuck behind this dusty counter all day.”
Shaking my head, I said, “I need a book of stamps.”
“Will do. Did your dad enjoy his trip?”
“He did. They promised to visit again before the end of the year.”
“That’s nice, that’s nice.” She busied herself getting the stamps and ringing them up.
“Marge?”
“Hmm?”
“Yesterday when we were here, you were talking about how paranoid everyone is. Or was.”
“That’s for sure. Why, just yesterday I was convinced there was a shadow on that wall, and—”
“You also said that Eddie Stack was paranoid.”
“Oh yeah. Him and his wife both. You ever met Doris?”
“Yes. So how was he paranoid?”
“Oh, he was always suspicious of the people he brought the mail to. This guy looks like a terrorist. That lady looks like a mug shot. But he also had bad dreams. He told Horace all kinds of whatnot. Let me call him. Horace!”
Horace appeared, looking ready as always to climb his ladder. He wore green overalls today and resembled a large blade of grass. “What do you need?” he asked. Sam approached the counter, too, with a bag that said “Bick’s Is Best!”
Marge greeted him and then pointed at her husband. “Horace, tell them what that Eddie Stack was telling you. You said he was acting paranoid and like a drug addict or something.”
Horace nodded. “Oh, the crazy stuff some of these people tell me when they’re here shopping for this and that. I just take it all in, I don’t judge, mind you. Oh, there’s that box of nails,” he said absently, pulling it from his pocket and setting it on Marge’s counter.
“Eddie Stack?”
“Oh, sure. He told me he dreamed things that made him feel weird while he was awake. He dreamed that the kidnapped baby was chasing him, but she was all grown up.”
“Athena?” I asked.
“Yes, the little girl of Victoria West.”
“Well, I suppose that baby is on everyone’s mind. And her picture is in the paper almost every day,” Sam said.
“Yeah. And so is the bad guy—the Kodak guy,” Mr. Bick said, rocking back on his shoes.
“Nikon?” Sam asked sharply.
“Yeah, right. I knew it was a camera.” Mr. Bick nodded at us, pleased with his attempt.
“And why is that notable, that Nikon is in the paper?” I persisted.
“Because Eddie swore he saw him, too. He was like that—suggestible, I guess. Saw a picture of someone on one of his mailers and then that person was on his mind. He was seeing everyone.”
My hands froze, the stamps still in them. Marge Bick stared at her husband, her mouth open in surprise. I said, “Mr. Bick. Horace. Eddie told you that he had seen Nikon Lazos?”
He peered at me over his glasses. “Well, sure, but like I said . . .”
“How long before he died did he tell you this?” Sam asked.
His face grew red with some unclear emotion. “I—maybe one or two days.”
Marge clapped her hands. “Horace! Didn’t you think that might be important?”
“Well—you had to know Eddie. He was a conspiracy theorist. You took what he said with a grain of salt.”
I leaned forward. “But the timing—don’t you think it sounds suspicious?”
He looked uncomfortable. “Well, I do now!”
Sam’s eyes met mine. He looked as shocked as I felt. Could Nikon actually be in Blue Lake? “We need to tell this to Doug,” he said.
“Should I call him?” Marge asked.
“We’ll go there,” Sam said.
We ran out of the store and back to Sam’s car.
* * *
* * *
“LET’S JUST GET this straight in our minds,” Sam said. “Eddie Stack was in Bick’s Hardware a day or two before he died. He seemed paranoid, and told Marge that the Lazos baby had grown up and was chasing him in his dreams. Then he said that he had seen Nikon Lazos himself. And he told his wife that he heard something he shouldn’t have heard.”
“If he recognized Nikon, and Nikon found out that he did, that would explain why he killed him. What about the grown-up baby? Doesn’t that make Eddie sound crazy, like the Bicks said?”
Sam shrugged. “He could have just seen a woman who looked like the Lazos child, and it put the baby in his consciousness. Then he dreamed about her.”
I thought about this. “It’s funny—I’ve seen some women lately who looked familiar to me, and then I realized that they reminded me of that Lazos family picture, with all the brothers and sisters. They all look so distinctive, the Lazos family, with very distinct features. And yet it seems like everyone with dark hair reminds me of them.”
“Who in particular?” asked Sam.
“Well—the n
ew library woman. Darla. She has dark hair and blue eyes, and she looks sort of like that Demeter from the photo. Or she would without her glasses. And then yesterday she was talking to the patron named Agatha, who looked like her dark-haired twin. And even Eddie Stack’s wife, Doris, looks kind of like the Lazos women. It’s as though Blue Lake is just filled with the resemblance. So yeah, I guess Eddie could have seen one of them and juxtaposed the image of the baby.”
“It’s all pretty nebulous,” Sam said. “And yet it feels like something is at the outer edges—something I should remember.”
I was on the outskirts of a thought, and I tried to put it into words. “So wait—if there are women in town who look like his sisters—I suppose one or more of them could be his sisters, right? Or maybe the man Eddie saw wasn’t Nikon, but one of his brothers.”
“They all do look similar,” Sam said. “But why would they be here? Why here, of all places? That doesn’t make sense.”
I sighed. “Can we even take what Mr. Bick said to Doug? I mean, what could we do with it?”
“We should tell Doug regard—”
My phone rang, and I clicked it on. “Hello?”
“Hi, Lena!” Allison’s voice was bright again, the way that I liked to hear it.
“Hey. What’s up?” I asked, distracted.
“I have late shift today, so I’m just having lunch with a neighbor,” she said. This was good news; Allison was so worried that her neighbors hated her, and clearly that was not true.
“Well, that’s nice.”
“She found out that I know you, and she said you should join us. Agatha said after lunch she could show us the renovations she made to her basement. Remember I said a bunch of people renovated? But first we’re just having a lovely salad and some tea cakes. I can’t believe we waited a year to visit each other!”
“I’ll try to stop by,” I said. “Sam and I just have to finish something up.”
“Tell Sam to come, too. Agatha says she is a fan,” Allison joked. A voice sounded in the background; Allison laughed and said, “She said she insists that you come. Otherwise she’s going to hold me hostage until you do!” The woman in the background was laughing with Allison.
A Dark and Twisting Path Page 20