by Maris Soule
‘Please,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I was on that street because my car stopped running. I’m sorry I can’t help you, but I’ve told you all I can.’
Told you all I can, she said. Not all she knew. Jack stared at her, wishing he knew how to get her to talk, how to persuade her to tell him the mystery of her past. She hadn’t even blinked when he’d said he could arrest her. The woman was absolutely frustrating.
Finally he gave up. ‘All right, you said you and your granddaughter saw a dark-colored car Halloween night. Can you be more specific?’
‘Not really.’ She actually sounded regretful. ‘My granddaughter was giving out candy for me that night, and it was getting dark by the time she mentioned the car and I saw it. I’m not even sure if that car and the one I saw a few days later were the same. Both had four doors. The one I saw in the daytime was definitely black, and I’d say it was a fairly new model, but I couldn’t tell you if it was a Ford or a Chevy or one of those foreign cars.’
‘Did you see the license number?’
‘No.’ She shook her head and looked to her right, as if trying to remember what she did see that night. ‘I should have called, especially now that I’ve heard that someone else in the neighborhood was worried about the car.’
He snorted. ‘That makes two things you should have reported.’
‘If you say so.’ She extended her hand. ‘It’s been nice talking to you, Sergeant. And again, thanks for earlier. Now I really should see if Ella needs any help.’
He shook her hand, her grip firm. She hadn’t truly needed his assistance earlier, and they both knew it. They both also knew there was more he wanted to know about her. ‘Don’t try to be a crime-fighter on your own, Mrs Harrington. I will arrest you if you interfere in police matters.’
‘I’m sure you would.’ She slid her hand free from his. ‘Have a good night, Sergeant.’
Jack watched her walk to the front of the room. She stopped and said something to Ella Williams, then something to Phil Carlson. He wondered what they were talking about, but that thought was interrupted by a young boy.
‘Are you carrying a gun, mister?’ the boy asked.
He looked to be around eight or nine: a redhead with freckles. The woman standing close by also had red hair and freckles, and Jack assumed she was the boy’s mother. She stepped closer, smiling. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, but my son said he heard police officers always carry a gun, even when they’re not in uniform.’ She looked down at her child. ‘He thinks he wants to be a policeman when he grows up.’
‘Good for you, son. And yes, I am carrying a gun.’ Jack unbuttoned his jacket and pulled the right side away from his belt, revealing his Glock. ‘A policeman always has his gun with him when he’s on duty. As you can see, I’ve been wearing this one so long it’s worn a hole in the lining of my jacket. I either need to buy a new jacket or sew a patch there.’
The boy looked at the Glock, then at Jack’s jacket. Finally he looked up at Jack. ‘I think you should buy a new jacket.’
Jack laughed. ‘Looks that bad?’
‘It’s pretty old, mister … Officer … Uh …’
‘Sergeant,’ Jack supplied. ‘And you’re right. This jacket is old, so I’ll take your advice under consideration.’ As he again buttoned his jacket, he looked at the boy’s mother. ‘Which street do you live on?’
‘Oak. Why?’
‘We’re still following up on that incident on Archer Street. Have you noticed any gang activity on your street?’
She shrugged. ‘Not exactly gang activity, but there have been some cars that go by our house that worry me. These are old cars, with real loud music playing. And the kids driving them have tattoos on their arms and make obscene gestures if I’m outside. I’ve stopped letting Kenny play out front.’
‘Call us the next time you see one of those cars.’
‘I will,’ she said, and took her son’s hand. ‘Come on, Kenny. Time for us to go home.’
It was time for him to go home, too, Jack decided.
Ella talked constantly during the short drive from the school back to Mary’s house. ‘Did you see how many people showed up?’ she said. ‘Way more than I expected. I think Officer Carlson was surprised.’
So was I, Mary thought.
‘And he gave us some really good information. I mean, we should, shouldn’t we, be letting the police know if strange cars are in the neighborhood? Did you know they found drugs in a car they stopped just last week? Or maybe it was two weeks ago. Anyway, he said they figured it was a drug run to one of the gangs here in Rivershore.’
Mary perked up. ‘Did he say which gang?’
‘Not exactly, but I got the feeling it was one of those Mexican gangs. I keep telling you, things aren’t the same as they were when we first moved into this neighborhood. Remember how we let our boys play outside until dark? We didn’t worry about gangs back then, or drugs.’
Mary remembered. Robby had played with Ella’s son, had been best friends with him until Robby went away to college and Ella’s boy joined the army, never to come back alive. She also knew, now, that back then they should have worried about gangs, that according to Robby gangs did exist, and not everything was as sweet and peaceful as Ella remembered.
‘Officer Carlson did say they thought those two boys that were beat up on Archer Street were part of a gang. He said they really didn’t have a problem with the Mexicans until some guy got out of prison and moved here. I told him I thought they should make him leave, but he said they didn’t have enough evidence against him to do that, and that’s why what I’m doing – what we’re doing – is good.’
‘What you’re doing,’ Mary said. ‘This has been your idea from the start.’
‘But you’re helping.’ Ella pulled up in front of Mary’s house. ‘Has Robby been working on your garage door?’
‘My garage door?’ Mary turned in her seat to get a better look at her garage. The door, instead of being flush with the apron, was now up at least two feet.
For a second, Mary stared at her garage, her mind racing. Robby hadn’t said anything about coming over and working on the garage door. In fact, if she remembered correctly, when she’d told him she was going to a meeting tonight, he’d mentioned he also would be at one. But why was the garage door open?
She knew from past experience that once that door was up it was a chore to get back down. It couldn’t be done from the outside, only from the inside. Even if you pushed it down and thought it latched, it would slowly creep back up to about the level it was at now. Robby knew that. He knew the only way to keep it down was to use the latch inside the garage … and that was why she never parked her car in the garage, even now that there was room for it. If she did use the garage, after backing her car out, she would have to go back into the garage, close the garage from in there, and then go through her house and out the front door to get to her car.
Way too much work.
‘How long has it been since you were able to park inside?’ Ella asked, as if reading her mind.
‘I don’t even remember,’ Mary answered, still staring at her garage. Who, she wondered, tampered with the door?
‘Harry did like to collect things. I still think you should have put those old records on eBay. I’m sure you could have sold them.’
‘Robby had a friend who collects them, and I didn’t need the money.’
‘Must be nice,’ Ella said, but Mary wasn’t really paying attention.
Did they get inside the house? She remembered locking the inside door to the garage after using the drill to put a hole in the end of her kubotan, but she didn’t remember turning the deadbolt.
Her gaze switched to the front window. The drapes were drawn, but she could tell it was dark inside. Did I leave a light on or not? She usually did when she left at night, but did she this time?
Damn the memory. It wasn’t what it used to be.
Only one way to find out, she decided, and looked back at Ella. ‘Tha
nks for the ride.’
‘I was going, I mean, of course I was going … so I just thought, I mean, why should we both drive?’
‘I appreciated it.’ Mary opened her door and slid out. ‘Drive carefully now,’ she said and grinned.
Mary waited on the sidewalk as Ella continued down the street, past the next two houses, and then turned into her own driveway. Ella’s garage door went up smoothly, and Ella’s car slowly disappeared from view. As the door slid shut again, Mary glanced up and down the street. No black car. No traffic at all. Those neighbors who’d attended the meeting had either already returned home or gone elsewhere afterwards.
No one around to hear me cry for help.
Muscles tense and nerves on edge, she pulled her keys out of her purse, taking the kubotan she’d attached to the key chain in her hand. A dog barked somewhere in the distance, disturbing the stillness of the night, and a gust of wind cut through her pant legs, sending a shiver up her spine. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm her mind and ready herself. She had two choices. Stay where she was and call the police or go inside and see if anyone was there.
If she called the police, they’d want to go inside her house, and before leaving for the meeting, she’d been looking through her box of weapons. She should have put it away before walking out the door, but time had slipped by faster than she’d realized, and she’d hurried to grab her purse and get outside when Ella honked.
She’d figured, with the doors and windows locked and the window coverings drawn, no one from the outside would see that box and its contents.
But if someone was inside …
It was too late to worry about what someone inside might have seen, but she certainly didn’t want the police noticing her weapons and asking questions.
That left one option. She alone would have to go inside and face her intruder – or intruders.
She unlocked her front door as quietly as she could and pushed it open. She didn’t enter right away, simply stood on the threshold, looked, and listened. There were times when she wished she still owned a dog. They’d had three over the years they’d lived in the house, mutts rescued from the Humane Society. The last one had had to be put down the year before Harry died, and Mary had decided no more. Not at her age.
A dog might have given her an idea if someone was in the house, might have alerted her to a stranger’s location. A dog might have deterred someone from entering.
But she didn’t have a dog.
Mary cautiously stepped inside and snapped on a light. She left the door open behind her, and took a few more steps in so she could look into the living room and kitchen.
She saw nothing unusual.
No one.
Slowly she walked through each of the downstairs rooms, snapping on the lights as she went, looking behind doors, in closets, and under the bed. She locked the door that led down to the basement. If anyone was hiding down there, they’d have to use the egress window to get out. Only when she was certain there was no one hiding on the main floor did she go up the stairs to the second floor.
Kubotan in hand, ready to use, she tried to make a silent ascent, her legs heavy and reluctant. The third step from the top creaked, setting her heart racing. She paused. Listened.
All she heard was the thumping of her heart.
Again she took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. And then again. Two more steps and she reached the landing.
She looked up and down the hallway, then slowly made her way to the nearest upstairs bedroom, the one usually reserved for guests. She heard a car go by outside, but by the time she looked out the window, all she saw were tail lights. She waited for a while, looking out the window and wondering if the car would return. Listening for any unusual noises. Listening for the sound of breathing, the rustle of material, or the scrape of a shoe.
She heard nothing.
Leaving the guest bedroom, she checked Robby’s old bedroom, looked in the closet, and under the bed. She wished her son still lived in this house. Wished her husband were still alive.
Reluctantly, she left Robby’s room and moved on to the upstairs bathroom. Only when she was certain there was no one upstairs did she again descend to the main floor and close her front door, making sure it was locked and the chain was in place.
As far as she could tell, nothing had been taken. She would have to look closer to be sure, but her television, computer, and printer were still in their proper places, as well as her coffee maker and radio. She was heading for her bedroom to check her jewelry case when the telephone rang. She hurried to answer it, wondering if it might be Ella, if maybe her neighbor’s house had also been broken into.
‘Yes,’ she said, far more breathless than she’d expected.
‘Are you missing something?’ a muffled voice asked.
‘What?’
‘I have it.’
‘Who is this?’ Mary asked, the muscles in her stomach tightening.
All she heard was the click of a phone being disconnected.
It was then she noticed her box of weapons had been moved. It no longer sat in front of her chair, but now resided at the end of the table, facing away from where she’d been when Ella honked her horn.
Muscles tensed, Mary walked over to the table and lifted the lid.
For a moment she thought everything was there, her array of throwing stars, the metal kubotan, and her two beautiful fighting fans. And then she realized one item was missing … the nunchuck.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
‘YOU’RE SHITTIN’ ME.’ Jack looked up from the report Wally had handed him. ‘She was robbed last night? While we were at that meeting?’
‘The house was broken into, at least the garage was. She said nothing was taken. This is the woman you’ve been investigating, isn’t it? The one you said we might get a call about?’
‘She’s the one.’ Jack could feel Wally’s questioning gaze and looked up. ‘She’s all right?’
‘She’s fine. Both Jennifer and Steward said she’s a very interesting person. Spry for her age. Alert and intelligent.’
‘Did they feel she was holding anything back? Not telling them everything?’
Wally smiled. ‘Jennifer said she was almost too calm. That most women who lived alone and had their house broken into would be all nervous and anxious. Mrs Harrington, according to Jennifer, didn’t seem all that rattled, told them what she’d noticed when her neighbor dropped her off and what she did.’
‘Which was?’
‘Went inside and checked all the rooms.’
‘She shouldn’t have gone inside. She should have called us.’
‘Correct, and both Jennifer and Stewart told her that. Jennifer wonders if she would have called at all if she hadn’t been afraid to go down into the basement.’ Wally chuckled. ‘She’d locked the basement door. Told Stewart if anyone was down there when she arrived home, they either climbed out the window or were still there.’
‘I take it no one was down there.’
‘No one … and the egress window was closed and locked from the inside. Same with the front and back doors of the house,’ Wally said. ‘The person who broke in evidently did so through the garage.’
‘Any of the neighbors see anything?’
‘I sent Carlson over this morning to question them, but I don’t think he’ll learn much. Mrs Harrington indicated that most of her neighbors were at the meeting last night.’
‘And this intruder took nothing?’ That didn’t make sense, unless the break-in had some connection to the incident on Archer Street … which he’d bet it did.
‘Nothing according to her, and Jennifer said the usual booty was untouched – TV, computer, jewelry.’
‘Guns?’ Jack had never seen one in her house, and he hadn’t found any record of a gun purchase, either by Mary Harrington or her late husband, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one.
‘There were none, according to her.’
‘Any signs of
drugs?’
‘Stewart found some prescription drugs in the medicine cabinet, all made out to her late husband and out of date. As far as he could tell, the pills in the containers were what they were supposed to be. She said she didn’t take anything except an occasional aspirin and some vitamins.’
‘Quite the amazing lady.’ Jack thought of his mother and the pills she took each morning for high blood pressure and arthritis. His mother-in-law had been worse, her day regulated by when she needed to take her pills, and the nurses at the retirement home were constantly giving his father-in-law pills.
Mary Smith Harrington, on the other hand, was a workout junkie. Strong, as he’d discovered. Quick, as demonstrated by her escape the night before from that one pesky gentleman. And a liar. Jack had no idea what was true or false about her.
‘I might drop over and talk to her later today,’ he said.
Wally grinned. ‘I had a feeling you might. Meanwhile, how’d the meeting go last night? Phil said he was surprised by how many people showed up.’
‘There was a nice crowd, mostly people who live on Maple and Oak, just a handful from Archer Street.’
‘Doesn’t surprise me,’ Wally said and took back the report he’d given Jack to read. ‘I’m going to talk to the village council. They’ve gotta do something about those empty houses on Archer. They’re constantly being broken into, stuff taken. Maybe it’s the same ones that broke into her house.’ He waved Mary Harrington’s file between them.
‘Except nothing was taken from her house,’ Jack reminded the chief.
‘Talk to her,’ Wally said and started for his office. ‘See if that’s really true.’
It was afternoon before Jack had a chance to drive over to Maple Street. He noticed two things as he neared Mary Harrington’s house: her car wasn’t parked in front of her garage, and a white Impala was parked two houses down from hers. Her garage door was closed, down flush with the driveway, which could mean her car was in the garage. On that assumption, he parked and walked up to her front door.