Toss Up (The Toss Trilogy)

by Craig, Susan

  Worries about the situation with Jim squirmed their way back into her mind, clamoring for resolution. Again, she deferred them.

  The last few days had been traumatic, but they were over. She refused to dwell on them. More troubling, her house had been left empty—with inadequate locks—since Sunday night. She added concern for her home to the lock-box of worries she refused to consider right now and concentrated on searching out the supplies she needed to make breakfast.

  She moved quietly, not yet ready to deal with Jim and Tyler, who were sleeping feet-to-feet on the two sections of the L-shaped couch. In the refrigerator, she found two lonely eggs, three and a half sticks of butter, an unopened quart of milk, and a wide variety of uncomfortably ancient-looking restaurant take-out containers. There was only one frozen waffle left, so she searched through the cupboards. Behind an empty syrup bottle and a sparse selection of condiments and seasonings, she discovered a five pound bag of sugar with a teaspoon sticking out of a hole in the top, a dusty container filled with flour, two open boxes of stone-hard brown sugar, and an unopened can of baking powder—no cereal. Opening another door, she found bread, but no peanut butter.

  It actually felt good to be faced with a problem she could solve. Soon the smell of pancakes and homemade brown sugar syrup filled the air. Comfort food—what she always cooked when she was nervous, if she cooked at all. There wasn’t any choice today. Though they’d been friends for years, it was clear there were still plenty of things she didn’t know about Jim. Like where he ate breakfast. Because it clearly wasn’t here.

  Tyler poked his nose into the kitchen, hungry as always.

  “Go wash up and get dressed first, honey. And wake Dr. Donovan.” She poured three more pancakes into the frying pan she was using as a griddle. Tyler’s school things were still at her house. His homework wasn’t done, and he’d missed a whole day of school.

  It’s a two-day week. He’s fine.

  She’d have to write a note, but what could she say? Drat it, every time she turned around it seemed she had to let someone else in on what she’d prefer to keep private. Forget the note—she’d go in and talk to Ms. Stevens. That way only one person would need to know what was going on, and she knew she could count on the veteran principal to keep the information confidential.

  She poured herself a second cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine would foil the headache growing at the base of her skull. One hour down, twenty-three to go.

  Half an hour before the school bus was due to pick up Tyler, Jim turned the truck onto the road that ran past Sally’s house and the shelter. Sally saw a fair number of tire tracks in the snow, made by area residents who commuted to Pittsburg to work. Jim drove past the shelter toward her house.

  “Damn.” He pulled the truck to the side of the road instead of turning into the driveway.

  “What?”

  His gaze, closed and guarded, met her’s over Tyler’s head. “It looks like the house may have been burglarized,” he said cautiously.

  Turning her head to look out the window, she saw a line of footprints running from her front door to the pines that lined the driveway. Her plans for a busy, but normal, day toppled like a house of cards. She bit her tongue to keep from swearing, and blinked hard and fast to clear away the tears.

  “Let’s go check!” Tyler unbuckled his seat belt and stood up between them. “Is my Wii still there?”

  “Whoa, Tyler.” Jim put a hand on Tyler’s shoulder and sat him back down. “You and your mom stay here while I look around for a minute. We can’t go inside, we might mess up clues the police will need.”

  Sally already had her phone out and was dialing 911. She looked at Tyler, who seemed satisfied with Jim’s explanation. That was a blessing. Moments later the dispatcher told her Officers Billings and Demarco, caught at shift change, were on their way.

  Waiting for the police to arrive, she and Tyler watched from the truck as Jim skirted the line of trees, carefully avoiding the tracks in the snow. Tyler was certain he should stay home from school and watch the police, but she vetoed that idea. He sat back with a pout on his face.

  “Are you feeling abused, Tyler? Get over it. You’ve already missed one day of school. You’re not going to miss two.”

  Tyler, watching Jim vanish around the side of the house, wisely refrained from replying. A few minutes later, Jim climbed back into the cab of the four by four.

  “Did you see anyone?” Tyler was clearly hoping to at least have a good story to tell at school.

  “No, sorry. Whoever it was is gone now. It looks like you’ll have to go to school without your books today, Tyler. That’s your bus coming over the hill.”

  Thank goodness. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll write a note to your teacher.” Sally pulled out a notepad and pen from her purse and wrote briefly.

  ‘Possible burglary at our home; cannot get Tyler’s book bag.’

  That would cover the homework problem as well and took driving over to talk to Principal Stevens off her list. If they wanted to make a fuss about yesterday, she’d deal with it later. She stuck the note into Tyler’s pocket and zipped his jacket up tight. “Bye, sweetheart. When you get home we’ll tell you all about what the police do.”

  She sighed with relief as her son climbed into the bus. One less thing to worry about. Then she turned to Jim.

  Her heart was beating fast, but she was mostly okay… so far. “What did you find?”

  Jim’s jaw clenched once before he answered. “He came from the hemlock right up to the back door and went in. Then he came out the front door and into the windbreak before heading back. He knows we found his spot in the trees and probably figured using it wouldn’t give us any new information.”

  He twisted his body to face her directly. “The problem is, it looks like he spent some time in the house. There’s a fair amount of snow blown into the tracks leading to the back door. But the tracks out the front door are fresh. Real fresh. If we’d been earlier, we might have seen him. We still might have passed him on the road.”

  Sally shuddered. “Did you go inside?”

  “No, and no one else should either. There’s no telling what he could have done in there. Here come the police now. I want to talk to Billings.” Jim jumped from the truck and met the police as they pulled up.

  Why was she letting Jim take charge? She began to follow him, then sat back against the cushions of the truck, and watched the men talk. Let him do it. She already had more on her plate than she wanted. Whatever Jim was saying seemed to give the officers pause for thought. Billings scratched his head, nodded once or twice, and looked at Demarco. Then they both got back in the car, and she saw Billings pick up his radio.

  Jim came back to the truck and started the engine.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I thought I’d take you over to the shelter, then I said I’d go pick up some coffee for them. They’re calling for a detection dog…”

  “Detection dog?”

  “…to check for explosives.”

  “Explosi…” Sally’s throat closed up halfway through the word. She swallowed hard and tried again. “You think he put explosives in my house?”

  “Probably not, but he could have. We know someone was in the house this morning. He may have been there yesterday, too. There’s no point in taking any chances.”

  Great. More things she didn’t want to think about. “I didn’t think we had police dogs.”

  “We don’t—at least we don’t have detection dogs for explosives, but there’s a private security firm that does. They mostly check school lockers for drugs, but they also have a few animals trained to detect gunpowder and explosives. Billings said they sometimes help out the police force as a community service. The big plus is that it will be a lot quicker than getting a unit out from Pittsburg.”

  “Great. You think my house is going to get blown up.” Her eyes narrowed, and her voice grew louder.

  “I told you probably not.” Jim shrugged like it was no
big thing. “But he’s threatened retribution and to punish you. I’m not willing to take the chance that he’s left a booby-trap behind.” Jim tilted his head back towards the police car. “They aren’t willing to take that chance either.”

  “So what now?” Her voice edged upwards. “What about my house? What about the mattress delivery? Having to check everything, and not knowing what kind of mess he may have made or what nasty little surprises he’s left for us to find… if you ask me that’s punishment in itself.”

  “Well, ” Jim paused to pull into the lot at the shelter, “My biggest hope right now is that he agrees with you. I hope he’s only trying to spook you, and that there’s nothing to find. But the thing is, we have to look. You and Tyler can stay at my place again tonight. Or I’ll call and get rooms at the Homestead Inn. I’ll be very surprised if this is finished today.”

  All Sally wanted to do was crawl into bed and—she flashed on the memory of the last time she’d pulled covers down to crawl into bed. Her stomach rolled and she shuddered.

  Don’t go there. “I’ll call and postpone delivery on the mattress. But then I have to get some work done here.” She jerked her head towards the shelter.

  Jim nodded. “Go for it. They don’t need you at the house right now. But I might hang around there for a while after I get the coffee. Anything in particular you need from inside? I’ll tell Demarco.”

  “Yes. Some clothes, if they get the bedroom checked out in time. Fortunately my notes for the paper are still in the back office at the shelter.” She groaned with frustration. “I hate this.”

  His warm hand closed over her cold fingers and gave them a quick squeeze. “Hang in there, Sally.”

  She turned her head aside as tears burned under her eyelids. His touch was friendly and supportive, nothing more. She wanted to scream out at the unfairness of it all. “I will. Gotta go, there’s Mark waiting for me.” She slid out of the truck’s cab, hurrying toward the disgruntled-looking volunteer, who was scowling as he waited for her to unlock the shelter door.

  Jim drove back to Sally’s house after a quick trip to town. On the seat beside him were a paper sack containing a huge breakfast burrito and a drink holder securing three large coffees. He pulled to the roadside behind the police car. Billings and Demarco were standing outside the cruiser and seemed to be conferring over a clipboard Billings held. When Jim stopped the truck, Demarco headed straight over to take the paper sack Jim held out the window, and Billings opened the passenger-side door.

  “Thanks. Most important meal of the day, breakfast. ‘Specially after night shift.” Demarco unwrapped the burrito and took a bite.

  Jim nodded. He handed a cup of coffee to Billings, took one for himself, and got out of the truck, setting the drink holder with the third coffee on top of the cruiser for Demarco. “When will the dog get here?”

  “Should be here now, I’d think,” answered Billings. “You know, we’ve finally made some progress with those lists. Pulled together everyone with a connection to Oceanside or Camp Pendleton, those who went to school at Penn State, and those who might have followed Mrs. Johnston—newcomers within the last five years. We kept all those who had two of the three. Gave us a much shorter prime list.”

  Jim nodded, hiding his surprise that the cop was talking to him so frankly. Maybe they’d finished his background check. “Any chance I can get a copy?” If it was short enough, it might actually be useful.

  “You know better than to ask me that, Donovan.” Billings paused. “You know, when I grabbed this coffee, I think I might have set my clipboard in the cab of your truck. Mind getting it for me?”

  Jim smiled, looked the portly officer in the eye and nodded. “Happy to oblige.”

  The list on the clipboard contained only a dozen names and some brief notes. Scribbling rapidly in the small notebook from his glove box, Jim saw more than a few that he recognized:

  Phil Cavalo who ran the computer shop—had he told them the truth about that file?

  Mark Hunter owned a local bar and grill and was one of Sal’s volunteers. As the boss he would set his own hours.

  Bob Hendrix, another volunteer who worked at the Lennox pultrusion factory outside town.

  And Daniel Smith.

  Daniel Smith who played around with Sally, then left her unprotected. Daniel Smith who was a loner. Smith who was arrogant and not good with clients, who never said why he’d come to York, and who had lived in Oceanside. Where had Smith been Friday morning when he should have been covering the clinic?

  As Jim scanned the list, an unmarked panel van pulled up and stopped. A young man wearing khakis and a heavy hooded jacket got out and immediately moved to the back of the van where he unloaded what looked like the tallest black Labrador Jim had ever seen. Man and dog approached the officers. Getting out of his truck, Jim hurried over to join them and handed Officer Billings the clipboard.

  Billings nodded from the young man to Jim. “Mike, this is Dr. Donovan.”

  The young man stuck out his hand toward Jim. “Mike Daniels.”

  As they shook hands, Jim looked at the dog. “Nice looking animal. Where’d you get her?”

  “The pound. We get most of our dogs there.” Mike rubbed the dog’s coat.

  “Mixed breed?”

  “Mostly Lab, but those long legs had to come from somewhere.”

  “She’s a big girl,” Jim agreed.

  “Bigger than expected.” Mike grinned. “We like our dogs on the medium side of large as a rule, but by the time it was clear she’d get so big, it was also clear she had an exceptional nose and the brains to use it.”

  Jim squatted down. “Mind if I pet her?”

  “Go ahead. She’s not working yet. Say hello, Sadie.” The dog sat in the snow and wagged her tail gently, calmly accepting the attention Jim gave her.

  “So, she alerts to explosives?”

  “Yep. Only a few of our dogs do, and Sadie’s the best. She’s reliable and smart. Has a sixth sense about people, too. She likes you.”

  Mike seemed to enjoy bragging on his canine partner, so Jim stood and went on. “How do you know when she’s found something?”

  Mike grinned again. “That is an important point. She’s trained to alert by sitting down.”

  “So if she sits you figure she’s found something? Couldn’t she just be tired?”

  Mike laughed. “She knows when she’s working. We change the lead from harness to collar and tell her to get to work. Then she won’t sit unless she has a reason to.”

  “Have you worked with her long?”

  “Two years now. She’s a good dog.” He looked at Officers Billings and Demarco. “What are we looking for today?”

  “We had a home invasion Sunday, with malicious intent,” answered Billings. “No sign of forced entry. The homeowner stayed elsewhere the last two nights.” The officer nodded toward the snowy yard. “As you can see from the prints, it looks like our perp came back. He could have done just about anything in there—he had plenty of time. We don’t really expect any kind of booby trap, but wanted to make sure before we start sifting through the place room by room. Appreciate you coming out to give us a hand.”

  “No problem, we’re happy to help. Let’s go see what we’ve got.”

  Billings looked at Jim. “I’ll have to ask you to stay here, Dr. Donovan, until the place has the all clear.”

  The three men and the dog moved off to the front door, as Jim leaned against his truck to watch.

  When they reached the porch, he saw the handler unclip the lead from Sadie’s harness and attached it to the collar she wore. “Time to get to work girl,” he ordered cheerfully. They vanished into the house.

  Jim pulled out his cell to call Daniel Smith, then put it back in his pocket, crossing his arms with a frown. He didn’t trust Smith. Smith was from Oceanside, and was new in the area. Really new. He’d moved to town less than a month ago.

  Sally said she found the first note at the shelter six months ago. But just
because Smith only lived in York a short time didn’t prove he’d never been here before. He could be responsible for all the notes over the last six months. And the stunt with the computer had happened after he arrived.

  Am I only suspicious because he’s been with Sally? Jim’s lip curled. No, it was more than that. Where was Smith Friday morning when he should have been covering the clinic? And where was he this morning? Jim flipped open his cell phone again. Let’s find out.

  Smith picked up on the third ring. “Yeah, Jim, what is it?” He sounded sleepy.

  Are you faking it, pretty boy? “I’m going to be late getting in to the clinic today. Can you cover for me?”

  “Hell, Donovan. I pulled those pups Friday night, took the clinic Saturday and yesterday. I wasn’t scheduled to be in until one today.”

  Like I care. “Look, something important has come up. I’ll take the afternoon alone today and take your Wednesday night stint on call. How’s that?”

  Smith made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “All right—fine. I’ll take care of it. I’ll see you around noon, then?”

  “Yeah. Around noon.” Jim snapped the cell shut. At least he’d know where Smith was all morning.

  Friday, when they’d argued, Smith said the clinic wasn’t what brought him here. I thought it was just a cheap shot, but maybe it was true. He could have gone anywhere. Why York? Had his reason for coming here been an obsession with Sally?

  The front door of the house opened and Demarco came out. Jim moved forward to meet him. “Well?”

  “Looks clean as far as explosives go. They’re doing a room by room, but Mike said even if the stuff was wrapped in plastic, the dog would probably have alerted by now.”

  “Well that’s a plus. You taking off?”