by Tracy Ellen
Jack opened the side door, leaning in. “Girls, tell your statements to Officer Nelson. I have drawings to show Anabel.”
Climbing out into the chilled air in the well-lit parking lot, I chuckled seeing the young, dark haired cop swallow manfully. He was trying not to look overwhelmed in front of his chief when four talking women bombarded him before he even got near.
With my back to the girls, I paused long enough to say in a voice only the young rookie could hear, “Tell them oldest talks first and all will be well.” He gave me a surprised, grateful look of relief and I nodded solemnly in return.
Jack grabbed my elbow and escorted me into the passenger seat of his truck. He climbed in behind the wheel and immediately shoved a single paper under my nose. There were six pictures of different men on the paper. I instantly recognized the man in the van from my parking lot this afternoon and tapped that photo. In this picture, his eyes looked deadly malignant staring out at me. Was it because Jack had told me the guy was a monster or did he really look that heinous? I sent up a silent plea never to be close enough again to find out, and pushed the paper away.
I concisely described to Jack what happened from the beginning. None of us had seen the driver tonight or gotten the van’s license number. Anna said she tried to see the front plate from her perch in the very back, but had no luck.
Tentatively, I asked, “Am I in trouble for shooting my gun?”
Jack squeezed my knee. “Not on my watch, Anabel. You have four eye witnesses stating the van was deliberately hit with intent to harm you.” His next works erased any relief I was feeling. “Listen, I know that’s your only handgun and you have it all legal, right and tight. I really don’t want you without a weapon while this joker is out there, but I have to confiscate your gun as evidence. It may become necessary for ballistic tests.” He squeezed my knee again. “We need to follow the rules, so that when we catch this guy it sticks, understand?”
I gulped and nodded. I didn’t know why I wasn’t expecting this and felt a moment of panic. I hit the button to roll down the passenger window halfway. The cold air helped calm the anxiety of being left defenseless. I knew many people with guns. I would not be defenseless for a second longer than it took to borrow one. It wouldn’t be registered in my name, but if it came to me defending myself or being killed, I guess I’d worry about the fine print later. For tonight, there were seven or eight guys with bulging muscles at my brother’s.
Or there was Luke across the road.
Jack was watching my face. His lips twisted in a knowing way. “We’ll get you a legal replacement immediately. Until then, what has Uncle Jack always told his little angel?”
“How would I know what you’ve told this creepy, little angel you refer to so often? You’ve always told me to get them coming, not going.” I must be feeling more myself because I was a tiny bit happy to see the smirking look on the Chief’s face replaced with his usual snarl. “Since you are absconding with my gun, are you having us tailed to Reggie’s to make sure we aren’t killed on the way?”
Jack turned his face upward, contemplating his choices.
I waved a nonchalant hand. “Hey, it’s no problem. I can take care of myself. I’ll walk into that bar and borrow a gun from someone I know in two minutes.”
“I should have horsewhipped some respect into you when you were young.” Jack’s shark grin was a scary, rare sight.
I smiled sweetly. “Oh, excuse me. Let me rephrase. I can walk into that bar, borrow a gun from someone I know, and take care of myself, Sir Chief!”
Jack reached over the center console and patted my cheek. “That’s better, Nancy Sinatra.”
I suffered the pat and cocked my head. “Nancy Sinatra, hmm?”
“Aha! Will wonders never cease…I got you! Miss Know-it-all doesn’t know everything!” Chief Jack crowed so loudly that the girls and Officer Nelson looked over our way in surprise.
He waved them off in scowling irritation.
I saw Mac fold her arms and give him a slow stare. I laughed to myself. Jack Banner was in trouble now. Nobody waves off MacKenzie Angelica Axelrod DeVere Dos Santos in irritation. Pain and suffering were sure to follow.
I got out of the SUV and went over to the van, reaching in to grab the duffle bag with my gun. Walking back to Jack’s driver side, I handed it over with a sad little shake of my head at his gloating expression and quirking lips.
Keeping eye contact and backing up, I started humming. Then I started snapping my fingers, shaking my shoulders slowly, and singing in a low voice to a few bars of, “These Boots Are Made for Walkin.”
I flipped my long ponytail behind my shoulder in farewell and wheeled around to join the group around Officer Nelson.
Walking away, it felt great to let loose a huge grin when I heard Jack’s deep voice threaten behind me, “Why, you little…One of these days, Anabel, one of these days.”
Chapter XIII
“Don’t Speak” by No Doubt
Saturday, 11/17/2012
9:45 PM
I was finished talking with Chief Jack and Officer Nelson about police business. Other cops were around doing their police work, but our parts were done as witnesses or victims, or whatever we were this go around.
The third time better be the charm. I was fed up with everything I wanted to do being interrupted by potential crimes and criminals. It was supposed to be my weekend off; not a never ending episode of Reno 911, Northfield-style.
Mac, Anna, and Officer Nelson had been whisked off by Diego, but not before Mac’s husband shot me an accusing glare for putting his precious in danger.
I was also really fed up with the men in my life being pissed at me. It wasn’t like counseling a friend over his missing slut wife, kicking an abusive ex-husband for attempting to kidnap my employee, and shooting at a serial rapist intending vehicular homicide was my idea of a fun Saturday.
I’d held out my arms to Diego, palms up in supplication. “Hey, I didn’t PLAN for this to happen! Mac, don’t let your husband look at me like that!”
While Mac scolded Diego in my defense, Anna and I hugged. “Ah, June, don’t let Diego get you down. What does he know?” Her smile was still a little shaky. “I will say you sure keep your promises. We were singing before we broke out flurrying.”
I squeezed her and stood back, shivering as a cold gust of wind swirled around us. “Yes, we were. I’m sorry about missing the bunny hop part. I feel crappy about that.”
She sniggered, straightening her teal scarf around her neck. “Next time we’ll get the dancing in.” She patted my shoulder consolingly when I groaned dramatically at the thought of a next time. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
It wasn’t hard to conclude why she’d rather go home versus hanging at Reggie’s. Poker party night probably wasn’t her idea of the perfect venue for a State of the Union relationship talk with my brother.
Tre J, Jazy, and I took off in Mac’s family sedan, a Honda Accord. We were being shadowed by Jack in his SUV on our way to my brother’s.
We were getting close to the turn off for Lake Roberds. I still hadn’t made up my mind if I was going to ask Tre J to stop by Luke’s first to see if he was home, or go with them to the poker party.
Seeing Diego so lovingly concerned over my sister made me wonder how Luke would react to tonight’s fiasco. This unusual thought made me wonder next how I hoped he’d react. Due to the overactive, filthy imagination I was blessed with, I couldn’t help but picture Luke’s image in the mirror in my bathroom when he had his arms around me with such bold hunger on his face. Still feeling a bit queasy over the rapist’s attempt to end our existence; it played over again in my mind how warm and safe I’d felt with my Hero’s arms around me before I’d passed out downstairs in Bel’s.
Both emotions were extremes, one all about driving, sexual desire and the other about blissful, sweet comfort. I couldn’t deny tonight I wanted to be wrapped around Luke and receiving a combination of both reactions.
&
nbsp; I didn’t need him, but I wanted him.
Guess I had made my decision where I wanted to go. Now I only had to figure out how to accomplish this without Jack, currently attached to our rear bumper like a barnacle, knowing what I was up to. I didn’t have much of a choice whether Tre and Jaz knew where I was staying tonight, but if I could manage it, they’d be the only people knowing. After tossing around ideas in my head and mumbling to myself, I came up with a plan.
The music was on low in the car because the three of us were back to hashing over what the man in the van’s ongoing connection was to Larissa’s ex.
Despite my curiosity, it was par for the course Chief Jack hadn’t divulged much info on the dude to some pesky, female civilian. I was told his name was Gustav Hammerschmidt. I was warned ‘not to run my mouth with my friends too much and keep my eyes open’ since I seemed to have caught his eye.”
‘Where was Luke when somebody really needed to be called asinine?’
From his viewpoint, I understood Just-the-Facts Jack reasoned what more did I need to know once the words ‘very bad customer and homicidal serial rapist’ were spat past his tightlipped mouth?
From my viewpoint, why do men find it so hard to comprehend us girls like any scrap of detail we can get to gnaw over as we build a big, fat case of anxiety driven what-ifs to stress uselessly about in the short term?
Even Gustav’s name was scary. We all heartily agreed due to his violent sexual propensities, he probably had a prison nickname of The Hammer. How would your average man, if he was a woman, like knowing he was being stalked and attacked by a female-hater known fondly by his slammer companions as The Hammer? Girls crave all the details. Details allow us to make intuitive leaps to conclusions that sometimes make no logical sense whatsoever, but were often unerringly accurate.
Jack was right about one thing- Officer Nelson was a very nice man. After I had given my statement, and while Jack had his back turned, Mac and I had double teamed the blushing cutie. We quickly persuaded him to tell us every fact and opinion he knew about this Gustav Hammerschmidt.
Officer Nelson, Brad, had some good stuff to share. Gustav Hammerschmidt had a long history of being in and out of state mental hospitals and jails. He and Ron Hansen had been cellmates in Dakota County Jail for the last year. They had also participated in jail inmate programs together. Anger Management was the latest program. (We were all silent a beat after Brad told us that fact.) This meant they had spent a heck of a lot of jail time together. The Hammer had been in Dakota County for almost two years. He was doing time for a third degree assault charge resulting from a fight in a strip joint off Highway 52. In the meantime, Wisconsin tried to get their case together to prosecute him for nine rapes occurring around the Madison area in 2010. The last rape resulted in the girl dying from the beating he inflicted. They knew without a doubt he was their man, but the chain of evidence was compromised on the DNA samples. Careers were ruined, and the prosecution refused to charge him if they couldn’t make their case. Having him off the streets in a Minnesota jail was better than nothing.
Driving through the night to Reggie’s lake house, we talked over those details. Jazy tried to get some more dirt on The Hammer’s background, but her cell didn’t get internet service in the car where we were. It seemed improbable to me this man would feel the need to hang around town and terrorize me because he gave a fellow inmate a friendly lift. He should have beat cheeks to avoid police interest. Of course, this was a man who had chosen to be a serial rapist and a murderer as his major hobby. What seemed probable to me might not apply here.
Jazy suggested The Hammer could want to date me and this was how he got a girl’s attention. Tre J’s opinion was he was in the Aryan Brotherhood. Ron was his butt buddy and fellow brother, and so now he was out for revenge. Both of their comments had me thinking, analyzing, and leaping.
So I called Jack’s cell.
“Wait, Quickdraw, don’t tell me. Somehow, even as I follow your vehicle, you’ve got another crime against mankind to report.”
I nobly ignored his flesh ripping. Secretly, I always appreciated some good, old-fashioned sarcasm to lighten up my night. It made me feel better to know Jack started it when I inevitably retaliated.
“Have any of your minions checked on Larissa tonight?”
There was dead silence and I thought I’d lost the call. Then Jack exploded. “Did you swear to God to me not five hours ago to not get involved in police business?”
“Mmm…sort of, but yet, not exactly. So moving on, I did swear to tell you anything I found out.” I spoke to him nicely without stooping to his level of sarcasm. “Can you go with me here, Jack? Would that be so hard? You’re just driving along singing to the oldies on KQ and reliving your glory day, anyway.”
That’s right, I stooped even lower.
I heard his grunt and decided that meant yes. “Okay, we know Ron Hansen was intending to kidnap Larissa out of Bel’s today while threatening he was going to make her very sorry. Meanwhile, out in the parking lot, Gustav was waiting. Do you think Ron promised Gustav a poke at Larissa for his help? Could that be why he is after me now? I ruined his fun and must die? Have you verified Larissa is safe?”
Jack swore quite loudly, but nowhere near as inventively as my brother. “I meant you should report FACTS to me, if you learned any. Not call to trade theories, or question if I am doing my job!”
“Here’s a fact. You are acting very rude tonight. Why shouldn’t you listen to my theories for two seconds?” I was part amused and part offended at his obtuse hard-headedness. “Have you conveniently forgotten it was me that noticed his van in the parking lot today, Chief Yellsalot? If I hadn’t theorized we’d be clueless who attacked us.”
I heard Jack’s cell beep and a faint background squawking from his police radio in his truck. He sounded distracted when he ended our call.
“Listen, Larissa’s fine. Stand by.”
My phone buzzed a moment later.
Jack spoke without preamble. “Something’s come up. Eyes open, Anabel. Call Reg and let him know you’re turning onto the lake road. Text me you’re safe within ten minutes.”
Fun and games aside, I reassured him instantly, “Roger that. Thank you, Jack.”
“I’ve notified the locals of the situation. They’ll be keeping an eye out around Reggie’s place throughout the night.”
“Great, I’ll warn the drinking poker players.”
Jack slowed, flashed his lights, and did a U turn. We all watched his fast retreating taillights disappear down the dark county road behind us. The clock on the dash read 10:09 PM.
“I wonder what’s happening that would make Jack leave us before we get to Reggie’s. For all his grouching, I know Jack thinks of us girls like we’re his special needs kids.” Jazy hurried on, “Not that I’m worried about Hammerschmidt.”
Turning onto the road circling the lake, Tre J located the switch for the car’s brights and lit up the narrow road ahead of us.
She was chuckling at my sister’s comment. “Anabel’s lucky she’s not his kid. She’d probably walk with a permanent limp.”
There was a snigger from the back seat. “I bet Jack dreams of spanking her.”
“You twisted sister!” I exclaimed in disgust at my deviant sibling over Tre’s laughter.
I had no idea what police business had Jack peeling off, but I was keeping my fingers crossed they had picked up Gustav Hammerschmidt. My life was going to suck until this dude was caught somehow and put back in a cage.
Sinning and moral debates aside, was it terrible of me to wish it would be a coffin and not a cell?
I don’t think it was, either.
However, Jack’s leaving did make my life simpler right now.
“Before we go to Reggie’s, do you chickies want to see where Luke lives?”
Jazy leaned forward between the bucket seats. Tre J stopped the car. She turned on the dome light. Both women were staring at me in astonishment.
“
What?”
I could see the shock plain on Jazy’s face. I think it was the wide-open mouth and wider eyes that clued me in.
She finally said, “You realize we’ve never met Luke, and only heard about him for the first time…”
Tre J interrupted excitedly, “I’ve never heard you even mention a man’s name you’re dating! Now that I think about it, I don’t remember you even going out with the same man more than a couple of times since what’s his name…”
I interjected to avoid, avoid, avoid. “Give me a break, I only asked if you wanted to see where he lives. I never said anything about going out with anyone. Luke’s become a friend of mine.” I diverted. “Hey, just what the heck do you mean by I’ve never gone out with a man more than twice?”
The girls started guffawing at my righteous protests.
Jazy answered first. “Oh, Bel, puh-lease. It’s been your pattern to stop going out with men after one or two dates for years.” Her voice turned musing. “I’m envious of your talent for keeping them as friends. I haven’t mastered that feat and I’m feeling the hate lately.” Her voice got brisk again. “Not that it’s a bad thing, but it seems like you’re always in control. We’ve never seen you fall for anyone, have we, Tre J?”
Tre agreed with a smiling shrug at me and took her foot off the brake. “She’s right, we haven’t.”
Jazy poked me in the arm. “Who do you think you’re talking to here, huh? You think we’re brainless and couldn’t figure out why you want us to see his house?” She impatiently shook her head. “It’s a classic move, Sister. It’s the smart way to check out if a man’s home without having to call him. Also, you don’t have to tell your friends what you’re really up to or how much you like him.” She paused and it was so pregnant, birth was eminent. “What exactly are you up to, Bel?”
Tre J nodded again in agreement. “It is a classic move, Bel.”
“It is? Huh.”
Jazy’s blunt statements certainly put to rest any question in my mind where Stella had inherited her lack of subtleness and her rat terrier tendencies.