by Lee Driver
Convinced that no two-legged creatures were close by, the wolf scurried up to the shed door and immediately picked up the scent. It followed the scent of blood down to the shoreline.
Dagger, where are you?
Dagger flinched and swore under his breath. I should be there shortly, barring any unforeseen speeding tickets. Have you seen any police?
Not yet. I haven’t found Padre yet, either.
What looked like a pile of rags bobbed just off shore. The wolf kicked up sand as it rushed toward the water. It immediately saw that the pile of rags had arms and legs.
Oh my god. I found him, Dagger.
Is he alive?
The wolf ran into the water and grabbed Padre by the back of his shirt, dragging him on shore. Then it raced toward the hotel, through the gardens sending patrons running for cover. It stopped as it neared the entrance and let out a loud howl. Police officers standing near their cars looked over.
The wolf turned and ran, stopped and howled again. It repeated this several times until the officers decided to follow. It heard the officers ask each other if they were following a wolf or a dog. One officer pulled a gun but another told his partner to put his weapon away.
The wolf ran up to Padre’s motionless body and howled again. It moved into the thicket as the cops approached. It watched as the cops tried to resuscitate the man.
“Was he attacked by the wolf?” one of the cops asked as he pulled his gun again.
“No, he’s been shot. The wolf just might have saved him.”
One officer called for an ambulance and within moments, the beach was turned into a crime scene area with spotlights, wooden horses, and onlookers.
The wolf edged its way into the underbrush as the crowd grew. Fearful of humans, it retreated farther into the darkened forest, shifted into the hawk, and from the safety of high branches, watched with anticipation at the activity below.
I don’t know if he’s alive, Sara cried.
What’s happening?
Sara explained what the police were doing. She heard one of the officers say Padre was breathing. He was shot, Dagger. And they left him to drown.
The Harley coughed and sputtered as Dagger weaved around the wooden horses that had been set up. He was stopped before he could get any closer.
“You’re going to have to park your bike someplace else.” The fresh-faced kid with a name badge that said LANSING, tried to sound authoritative in a uniform that was too big for him and a holster that was starting to slip down to his hip bone. He hiked the gun belt up and kept his hands on his hips, which to Dagger looked more like an attempt to keep his gun belt from pulling his pants down around his ankles.
Dagger whipped a business card in front of the rookie. “I’d like to speak to the officer in charge. I think I might know the victim.” He rushed past, forcing the teen-cop to run to keep up.
“That would be Sergeant Duranski. He’s the guy with the big head, literally.”
The crowd parted as Dagger pressed forward. Sergeant Duranski wasn’t hard to find. He did have a big head and a wide face to go with it. But he had a large enough frame to carry it, almost seven-feet tall.
When Officer Lansing introduced them, Dagger had to crane his neck to look Duranski in the eye. This was no country-bumpkin, small-town sheriff. His eyes narrowed with suspicion at Dagger, and when he opened his mouth to speak, there was enough space between his front teeth to drive a truck through.
Dagger gave a quick look at the body on the beach and told Duranski the victim was Sergeant Jerry Martinez of the Cedar Point Police Department.
“How did you hear about this, Mr. Dagger?” Duranski turned Dagger’s business card toward the light.
“Just Dagger will be fine.”
Duranski grunted in response. “You’re the fella that called. How the hell did you get here so quick?”
Paramedics arrived with medical equipment and a stretcher. The two men moved away to give them room. Dagger explained how Padre was helping him with a case, how Padre’s phone call had been disconnected, and why Dagger had reason to believe Padre was in trouble. Dagger watched the paramedics strip off Padre’s shirt. The bullet was in the chest, but fortunately had missed the heart.
“Listen,” Dagger said to the paramedics, “Cedar Point Hospital has a trauma center and a helicopter. You can be there in the same amount of time as it takes to get him to your hospital.”
“We already called them,” one of the medics said, never turning away from his work. The technician had the fastest hands Dagger had ever seen. “He’s stabilized,” the paramedic announced. “But we have to get him to the trauma center quick.” He turned to his female partner. “Find out the chopper’s ETA.”
Is he going to be okay? Dagger heard Sara’s voice in his head.
He’s stabilized but they don’t know yet. I just hope he makes it to the hospital in time.
“Lansing,” Duranski called out. “You and Sizemore find out if anyone saw or heard anything.” To Dagger he said, “You realize, he may be Cedar Point’s cop, but his attempted murder is my business. So I WILL be at Sergeant’s Martinez’s bedside to get his statement.”
“Of course.” Dagger drifted away from the beach toward the maintenance shed. Shadows jumped as he followed a footpath. An owl hooted up in the trees.
Where are you going, Dagger?
I’m going to take a look at the maintenance shed. He heard the trees rustling overhead and assumed it was the hawk. The large door gaped open, the interior dark. Nudging the door with his elbow, he entered.
“Something in here of interest?”
Turning quickly, Dagger almost hit Duranski with the flashlight. “Are you looking to give me a coronary?”
“Didn’t mean to startle you. I get a little suspicious when strangers start sticking there nose into my territory.” He ran his tongue over his piano-key teeth, almost losing it in the large gap. Duranski had to duck through the doorway. He clicked on a flashlight of his own, a heavy-duty light with a beam as wide as he was tall. “How long you been a P.I.?”
“About five years. I’ve known Sergeant Martinez almost as long. He’s a good detective.”
“Any reason why you’re checking out this shed?” Duranski followed close behind.
“When Padre called my house, he told my assistant where he was. She made the first call to your station. I just wanted to check this shed out.” The beam illuminated the walls, bouncing off the heavy equipment. It rested on a bare spot on the floor about fifteen feet by twenty feet, swept or brushed clean. “Looks like something rested here,” Dagger said. He opened the cabinet marked SNOW SHOVELS. Some shovels hung from nails, others leaned against each other. None were hanging on the left side of the cabinet, as if they had been moved aside to make room.
“If I find out you’re holding out on me,” Duranski warned, “I will be more than happy to show you one of our best cells.”
CHAPTER 25
Early Tuesday morning, Sara pulled up in front of Skizzy’s Pawn Shop just as the truck engine coughed and died. “Darn.” She struggled to place the gear in neutral but to be on the safe side, also put on the parking brake.
“Are you alone?” Skizzy poked his head around Sara and checked both sides of the sidewalk and across the street. “Hurry, hurry.” He closed the door behind her and refastened all the locks and chains.
Sara set a cooler on the counter and a bag saying, “I brought you some home-grown vegetables I froze and some pickles and stewed tomatoes I canned. You should get the vegetables into the freezer right away.”
Skizzy peeked inside the bag. “This what I think it is?” He smiled, his face forming cherub cheeks, as if he hid ping pong balls in his mouth. “Warm fry bread and fresh coffee.”
“I made the fry bread this morning.” Sara followed him down the staircase to his workroom. Skizzy was wearing the same camouflage pants and stained tee shirt he had worn during her previous visit. She wondered why he would wear military clothing if
he was so suspicious of anything to do with the government, including the military.
“I’ve already swept the building for listening devices. Big Brother didn’t sneak in here during the night.” Skizzy wasn’t smiling.
“Do you do that every morning?”
“Yep, every morning. And if I go out for any reason, I do it again when I return. Can’t trust them. They are clever, yes sir.” He thumbed through pages of computer printouts from the telephone numbers Dagger had given him. “Where is Dagger this morning?”
“He spent the night with a sick friend in the hospital.”
“Well, tell Dagger I highlighted all the repeat calls and who they were to. Do you have something to put this in? They have telescopic equipment that can read from miles away.”
Sara blinked and stammered, “No. Do you have an envelope?”
“Sure, sure.” He opened a large brown envelope and blew into it, tipped it upside down. “Can’t even trust bugs. Did you see that episode of X-Files where the government has outfitted bugs with audio and visual equipment for spying?”
Sara smiled. “No, I must have missed that episode.” She felt sorry for him. To be that neurotic had to take its toll. And she wondered if Skizzy trusted anyone besides Dagger.
“Well, I’m sure you heard about those longhorn beetles that have been infesting some trees in Chicago.” He leaned closer, his voice conspiratorial. “Chinese espionage.” He nodded, agreeing with himself.
“I hope you don’t mind meeting me here.” Eric Tyler nodded to the waitress that he wanted a refill on his coffee. He and Dagger were seated in the restaurant at the plush Cedar Point Yacht Club.
Dagger could see fishing boats headed out toward the breakwall. Kids were already casing out their lounge chairs at the pool.
“Actually, Eric, I think you will prefer that we meet here rather than at your office.”
Eric looked puzzled. They ordered breakfast, and once the waitress left, Eric said, “You were saying?”
“This is about Rachel Tyler.”
Eric smiled but his eyes were cold steel. His hair looked as plastic as a Ken doll’s and his reaction seemed pre-packaged. Absorb Question A and sift through files for appropriate reaction.
“My father has been despondent ever since you dropped your little bombshell. He has told me he refuses to go to the police, doesn’t want the publicity.” Eric stirred his coffee slowly. After several moments of contemplation, he said, “You know this all sounds ludicrous.”
“How did you get along with her?”
Eric checked his watch. The waitress delivered their breakfast and refilled their coffee cups. His cell phone rang. He spent two minutes on the phone. “Sorry about that,” Eric said. “Where were we? Oh yes, Rachel. Well, what can I say? I was engaged to Edie when Dad married Rachel. I guess you can say we got along like brother and sister. One big happy family.” He took a stab at his eggs and chewed slowly.
He was a lot different from Nick. Nick was more relaxed, laid back. Dagger could picture Nick partying til all hours and saying the hell with it the next day when he was supposed to show up for work. But Eric seemed more regimented, serious, all business. He was definitely more like his father.
Dagger rubbed the sleep from his eyes and tried to push thoughts of Padre out of his mind. Dagger had dozed in the visitor’s lounge most of the night. Padre had a restful night and the prognosis was good. The surgeon had reported that most of the bullet had hit the gold cross Padre wore around his neck. Only a fragment of the bullet had entered his chest. But the thought that the man responsible might be sitting across from him made Dagger’s blood boil. He was in need of sleep and tired of waltzing the two-step with Eric.
Although this was a sensitive subject, Dagger wasn’t in a sensitive mood. “Did your father know you had an affair with Rachel?”
Eric choked on his toast and took a long swallow of water. “Excuse me? Where did you hear that ridiculous rumor?”
“Around.” Dagger chewed slowly and watched the tinge of red creep up from Eric’s starched shirt collar to his forehead.
The room was starting to fill up with society fat cats clad in ascots and nautical blazers. Attractive young women clung to the aging fat cats’ arms, some dragging along young children.
“Well, it’s bullshit.” Eric pushed his plate away. “Let me guess. Nick got drunk and ran off at the mouth. Truth is, Nick was the one with the hots for Rachel. Not me.”
“Nick would have been a little too young for Rachel. Maybe seventeen?”
With a shrug of his shoulder, Eric said, “You know how those raging hormones work. I was totally faithful to Edie. We were getting married. But I don’t even think Nick would have touched her. She was Dad’s fiancee. We Tyler boys do have scruples.”
“Where were you the night Rachel disappeared?”
Eric’s gaze swept swiftly around the room before resting on Dagger’s face. “If you must know, I was trying to catch up on paperwork in my office. This is completely useless. Unless you have a police shield to show me, I don’t owe you any explanations. Now, if you don’t mind.” Eric checked his watch again. “I have an appointment.”
“Look at you. I give you one simple assignment and you screw it up.” Dagger held a bunch of flowers and searched for a place to put them. He settled for the water pitcher.
Padre laughed. “What did you do? Steal those off the candy striper’s delivery cart?” He winced as he reached for the controls.
“I’ll get that.” Dagger pushed the button to raise the bed so Padre was in a sitting position. “I was glad to hear you were awake and moved out of ICU so quickly.”
“That’s my insurance company for you. By this afternoon I’m sure they’ll want me released.”
Dagger opened the blinds and walked past an empty bed that had been tightly wrapped in stark white sheets and a blue bedspread. He pulled a chair close to his friend. Padre’s color looked better. He had lost a lot of blood and was lucky to be alive. Padre would have died if it hadn’t been for Sara and her unique talents.
“That Sergeant Duranski stopped by early this morning to question me. Nice guy. Kinda like a Grizzly Adams.”
“Listen, Padre...”
“Hey, don’t start with that blame game. I wanted to help out.”
“The doc says your medal may have saved your life.”
“Yeah. God came through again.” He pushed away the breakfast tray which contained a bowl of half-eaten oatmeal. “That Sergeant Duranski said something about a wolf finding me on the beach. What the hell is that all about?”
“That’s what he told me. It was probably a dog though. Those country bumpkin cops wouldn’t know a wolf from a dog if it bit them.” Dagger held up the photographs of the three men. “Any of these men look familiar?”
“The two on the right.”
Padre had identified Mince and Joey. “Just two?”
Padre nodded and explained how he had found the bloodstained rug. “I’m sure they came back to get it.”
“Well, they got it. It could be anywhere. They could have weighted it down and dumped it into Lake Michigan or hauled it off to an incinerator somewhere.” Dagger told Padre about his conversation with Eric Tyler.
“And you think he’s lying?”
“Of course.”
Padre looked over at the machines that were beeping his heart rate and blood pressure. “That damn thing is annoying. Unplug it. With my luck I’ll spend the afternoon waiting to see a flat line.”
Dagger reached over and pulled the plug out of the outlet. Immediately a voice came over the intercom and a face appeared on his television screen. “Excuse me, gentlemen. Please plug that machine back in.” A pudgy face framed in tight curls smiled at them from the screen.
“Skizzy is right,” Dagger muttered as he stuck the plug back in the socket. “Big brother AND sister are watching.”
“Thank you,” the smiling face replied just before it disappeared from the screen.
&nb
sp; Padre continued, “I heard them talking, Dagger. They said something about the body. I was in and out of consciousness and I wish to hell my memory was better. Things are kinda muddied.”
“That’s okay. It will come to you. Just concentrate on getting better.”
“The hell with that. I want you to fill me in. And don’t leave out a thing.”
CHAPTER 26
Dagger returned home around two in the afternoon to find Sara sitting at his desk pouring over the list of phone numbers.
Sara asked, “How is Padre?”
“Making surprising progress. He’s a tough old bird.” Dagger pulled his shirttail out of his pants and wiped his face.
“AWK.” Einstein fluffed his feathers and squawked from a branch in his tree.
“Not you, fella. Padre.”
“AWK, SPREAD UM.”
“Mail come yet?”
“No.” Sara looked up from the reports. “You doubted the possibility that there was anything to investigate.”
Dagger smiled. Sara was right. He leaned against the front door frame and stared out at the yard with its perennials in full bloom and welcomed the rain shower he barely beat home. He was silent for a while, thinking of Padre, Rachel, and exactly how dangerous Rachel’s killer or killers were.
“It isn’t your fault Padre got hurt, Dagger.”
Dagger turned away from the door. “I admit I didn’t think this was going to be a big case. But I also didn’t realize how dangerous it could be. That was my fault.”
The cool from the air conditioning felt great. Standing in the doorway to the aviary, Dagger told Einstein, “Little too cool out here for you, Mister. You better stay here in your sauna.”
After grabbing a glass of iced tea, Dagger retreated to his bedroom and closed the door. Thirty minutes later he emerged showered, shaved, and wearing gray pants and a Henley shirt. He shook his long, wet hair like a dog just in from the rain. It fell in loose waves, leaving his shirt water-spotted. On the coffee table was a plate containing a ham sandwich and a stack of Dagger’s favorite mild peppers.