Ten minutes later, a police cruiser pulled into the motel parking lot. Avy watched the haunting figure fade into the dark. The patrolman exited his vehicle and shined a light on Chubby’s car.
Avy summoned the officer with a frantic wave. He met her at the door after a brisk walk.
“Are you the party that reported the disturbance?” asked the tall cop.
Sebastian served as the spokesman. “We did.” He explained the reason for the call. He left out the part about the suicide wish, not wanting to complicate things or come off like some half-assed psychologist. He did mention that Chubby’s dog had been frightened to death in a confrontation with the mysterious man. The officer recorded each of their names on a field report. He thanked them before he walked across the parking and out into the weeds.
The threesome waited in a nervous vigil in front of the motel. They watched the outline of the blue uniform disappear past the end of the headlights. They heard nothing that resembled raised voices or a scuffle. Tense seconds rolled into minutes. Still, the officer did not reappear with the suspect in custody. A half hour passed, a very long time to apprehend a suspect.
“He’s got him cuffed up by now,” explained Chubby. “Maybe he’s giving him a good cussin’ out, too.”
“This long?” Sebastian asked, doubt evident in his voice.
The patrol cruiser door had been left open. The radio squawked out call letters. The message repeated. “Baker three-five, what’s your twenty and status?”
They waited a quarter of an hour before they decided to creep across the parking lot. Sebastian aimed his light into the tall weeds. Chubby took the light from him and said, “Wait here.” He walked into the tangled shrubbery, vanishing in a thick curtain of darkness.
In the next moment, a shriek cut through the night air, followed by the sound of thumping footsteps. Chubby burst from the weeds, running with all his might. He passed by the couple, headed for the police cruiser. Once inside the car, Chubby spoke into the dash mic with frantic words.
“Officer down, officer down! I repeat, Baker three-five is down. Request immediate assistance at—” Chubby gave the address of the motel then acknowledged the callback, verifying what had happened.
Avy ran up to Chubby, smashing into the open door. “Dear God, what’s going on?”
Chubby slid out of the cruiser, holding onto the doorframe for support. His breath came in rasps, while his eyes would not center in their sockets.
“He doesn’t have a pulse.” Chubby coughed. “He’s just lying there face down, holding on to his handcuffs. I think he’s dead.”
Chapter 20
The interrogation room in the Raleigh Police Department claimed no more space than a large walk-in closet. The detective sitting across from them seemed oblivious to the tight quarters. He had one thing on his mind—the facts. They had not been brought in because they were suspects. They had volunteered to have their statements recorded regarding the “officer fatality.”
The detective, a large man, had a scar on his bald pate that resembled a worn groove in an old piece of luggage. He seemed calm, but concerned while he filled in the boxes on the report form. The first few questions he’d asked were very soft-spoken. His aftershave might have been the harshest thing about him. He hadn’t looked up for the last five minutes. An ID card hung from his neck on a lanyard: Detective Tony Bulmer. Two other uniformed officers stood against the wall, very still and quiet.
At last, the detective looked up, glancing at the three, but his eyes settled on Chubby. Avy could tell that the detective appeared more comfortable in his affiliation with another law enforcement person. Chubby had also been the one to discover the body.
Bulmer cracked his knuckles. “Now, this was a prowler call that resulted in the death of a peace officer. According to your previous statement, you didn’t see what happened to the officer other than that he disappeared beyond your line-of-sight. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir,” said Chubby. “We told him about the transient who had been harassing us. We directed him out into the field. That’s where we last saw him. The officer didn’t return for nearly an hour, which concerned us. I decided to investigate because the officer didn’t have any backup. Just like I told you before, I found him face down, non-responsive. I checked for a pulse, but didn’t find any sign of life. That’s when I ran back to his unit to call it in.”
“This prowler, you described him as disheveled, wearing a raincoat, snow boots, and an orange cap. Is that correct?”
“Yeah,” said Chubby. “A typical homeless person. He stank up a storm. He showed some fifty-one-fifty characteristics—kind of crazy.”
“You believed him to be unstable then? Okay. Did you see the unknown in contact with the officer?”
“No, I saw no contact.”
“The man slipped down in the weeds when the officer pulled up,” Avy offered. “The police officer went into the lot to find him.”
“Uh huh. You’re sure you didn’t see any weapons on the unknown?”
“We didn’t see any,” said Chubby. “He just carried around an opossum. I know that sounds weird, but he did have one perched on his shoulder.”
“This is the same opossum that your pet dog chased?”
“Yes, Gretchen chased that opossum out into the field. That’s where I found her dead. I buried her on the motel property.”
“We might have to exhume the carcass,” said Bulmer. “It’s standard procedure in an investigation like this, with two suspicious fatalities in the same area. I hope you understand.”
“Anyway that I can help. I just want her to have a proper burial afterward.”
“That can be arranged. Now, do you have any idea what this man’s motives were for enticing you out into the open? Had you insulted him or begrudged him something to make him angry with you?”
“We’ve never done anything to him,” said Avy. The others agreed with nods. “He just wanted to harass us. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t afraid of him until he began to talk to me. He was very sarcastic, in a threatening kind of way. I was shocked when I first saw him. I’ve never seen someone in such bad shape before. The smell, the fluids—he spit worms. God forgive me, but he’s the most disgusting human I’ve ever seen.”
“You said fluids,” said the detective, raising a questioning brow. “What do you mean by fluids? Something that you could come in contact with?”
“Well, yeah, I guess,” she said. “It seemed to come out of his skin—this kind of substance that looked like yellow motor oil. He had it on his face too. I thought it was sweat at first, until I saw some of it fall from his fingers.”
“STP,” said Sebastian. “It was thick, runny-stringy like STP oil additive. I saw it. He gave off a real powerful stench. Crossing a corpse with a skunk, would be the best description.”
The detective perked up, scribbling faster. He read over his last notes before he slapped the notebook shut. He looked at each one of them again, then lowered his voice.
“I know that you have some questions. I can answer a few. You’ve been very cooperative. This is a serious matter. I would advise you not to discuss this with anyone outside of your sphere. This is an ongoing investigation, so we don’t need to complicate matters. Anything?”
Avy cleared her throat. “How could the officer die so fast like that?”
“By preliminary accounts, it appears to have been a heart attack. We won’t know until an autopsy is performed. We cannot rule out homicide yet. Some transients have been known to carry hypodermic needles on their person. They’ve been known to use them as a weapon. Such a scenario cannot be ruled out as a cause of the officer’s death. We’ll know for certain after a full blood workup.”
“What are you going to do about this man?” Avy asked. “He calls himself Harry if that’s any help.”
“They’re still sweeping the area where you last saw him—we’ve already had some sightings. They’ll widen the search after they’ve covered their grids. You
gave us a good description of him. We have an APB out to the surrounding jurisdictions. For now, he is a witness or person of interest. I’m sure we’ll run a background check on him when we make contact. Then interrogation will follow.”
“What if he comes around again?” Sebastian asked. “Can we protect ourselves?”
“No deadly force,” said the detective. “I know you both have registered firearms, but I’m warning you that any discharge of a weapon in this city will force me to put out an APB on you. Do you hear me? I want you to get to a phone if this man shows up again. Keep your distance from him, but keep him in sight. We’ll dispatch units to your location faster than you can recite the alphabet. Do you understand that part of it? At least you can appreciate what I’m saying, Raymond.”
“Yes, sir. Understood about the weapons.”
Sebastian’s lips drew tight. “What are we supposed to do if he attacks us? Use harsh language?”
“Make no contact with this individual. Observe and report. If he forces the issue, run. If he corners you, throw rocks, wood, anything you can use for a missile. Distract him. I’m sorry, but we don’t know what we’re up against. Like I said, we’ll run a quick interference. If you remember anything else about this case, don’t hesitate to call me.” He dealt out a business card to each of them, but included a piece of paper that had his home phone number, then stood up. It was a dismissal. They exchanged handshakes. The detective escorted them to the exit.
Once outside, Avy sucked in a deep breath of fresh air, glad to be free from the confines of the interrogation room. They piled into the car and headed back to the motel. Avy glanced at the two men, knowing they were also lost in thought. She sensed a shared responsibility for the death of the officer. He had lost his life in the performance of his duty—that duty had been a direct result of their call. Chubby’s frantic “Officer down, officer down” would forever remain burned in Avy’s consciousness.
Sebastian looked at Chubby. “Why is it that I know what you are about to say? Is ‘you can’t hit a moving target’ close?”
Chubby gave him a curt nod. “We have to move again if we want to avoid contact with that man.”
Sebastian shook his head. “No, what we need is to draw him to us again so we can tag him. All we have to do is call the authorities if he shows up.”
Avy didn’t think Sebastian’s solution was the correct one. “What if he decides to come at night? What if another officer or two ends up out in the field again, then—”
“Then that’s the chance we have to take.” Sebastian snapped.
Avy stiffened in her seat. “That’s a bait situation. You want to make us the bait. All I’m saying is that we could use a better vantage point—maybe a gated community or a second story unit so we could see him coming. If it’s a matter of expenses, I’ll spring for it.”
She found Sebastian’s logic incomprehensible, no doubt fired by his emotional state. He hadn’t been the same since the theater had burned down. Revenge was clouding his judgment. She knew that next he would start snapping at her or disagreeing out of spite. He was pained to the max—inconsolable. It was a wonder he wasn’t headed for a full nervous breakdown. He was showing all the warning signs.
“Okay, fine,” Sebastian relented. “Maybe we need something with tighter security. We all know that damn opossum is serving as his bloodhound. He sniffs us out for his master. That’ll be our warning detector. I still wouldn’t mind putting a bullet smack between the eyes of that little rat bastard.”
“No gunfire,” Chubby said. “We have to obey the law even if the enemy is a law-breaker.”
“Don’t remind me of it right now, Chubs,” Sebastian quipped.
###
They packed their belongings, then checked out of the Flat On Your Back. They found a two-story motel on Six Forks Road bordering the North Side, not far from the Cyberflow Corporation. Called the Lazy Daisy, it had a large gated courtyard surrounded by an eight-foot-high wrought iron fence. An empty swimming pool took up the middle ground in the courtyard. Small establishments sat on either side of the motel and across the street. The only dirt field within distance was a half block away, which lay tilled flat, devoid of foliage. Their vantage point offered them a wide panorama of the property. Avy and Sebastian took a second-story unit in the middle of the complex, leaving Chubby renting an adjoining room.
They stood on the landing outside their room, leaning on the railing. It looked like a quiet neighborhood from their vantage point. A boutique, barbershop, Taco Den, grocery, real estate office, mailbox outlet, and a candy store stood opposite them from across the road. Beyond the storefronts lay fenced properties, including several storage yards. Two trees sat in the courtyard, both of them date palms. For now, everything appeared normal. They had no idea how long that normalcy would last.
###
They spent the next few days in the motel, resisting the urge to venture out except for necessities. Board games, books, and TV took up much of their time. Avy checked the want ads, looking for any part-time position that would supplement their income. Sebastian had objected, demanding that she stay out of the public sector for reasons of security. He told her she was now a target, and the safest place for her to be was at his side. It had been their first heated disagreement. She was thankful that it had not degenerated into something more serious. It had still bothered her that the tension had boiled over into a face off between the two.
Sebastian had no qualms about going out alone in Avy’s car. She had thought it unfair to remain behind like some tavern wench, afraid to pop her head out of the door lest the master come back to spank her for disobeying. Sebastian never hinted where he went. She suspected he had been making trips to the local coffee shop to check the job listings. He’d also met with his insurance agent for the purpose of monitoring the claim on his property. She could not slight him for these absences and kept quiet whenever he returned to the room in a fitful mood. But she ached to get out.
Chubby had made a trip to the local police supply to pick up an assortment of self-defense items. Avy and Sebastian had each received a pair of security cuffs, T-shaped batons, and large mace canisters. Chubby ran them through some defensive moves, demonstrating the use of the baton, showing the handholds and target areas. He taught them several take-down moves, which included every pressure point known on the human body. The couple liked the instruction, demonstrating a natural ability to perform the moves. Being in peak physical condition helped.
On the third day of their stay at the Lazy Daisy, Avy talked to the men about going out for lunch. They voted her down.
“I’ll lose my mind if I have to spend another day locked up in a room that has a broken air conditioner and a leaking faucet,” she said. “This isn’t normal.”
“Forget it,” said Sebastian.
“I’m not going to forget it. I need to get out. You can’t keep me from leaving.” She threw a mini-tantrum.
“All right,” said Sebastian. “But it’s going to be something local. No fancy restaurants.”
They settled on the Taco Barn across the street. Avy agreed to the selection even though she could have thrown a rock and hit the joint. At least it was off the motel property. They walked across the street and waited in a short line to enter establishment.
The place was crowded with noonday traffic, most of them employees on lunch break. One small postage stamp-sized table sat in the corner unoccupied. Avy waded through the maze of tables to claim it while the men waited in line to place their order. So much chatter filled the small restaurant that the noise resembled a steady hum. Small children played under the tables, clashing action figures together, screaming bloody murder. When a portly child zoomed around a table, mashing one of Avy’s toes in her open-topped sandal, she bit her lip, smiling through the pain of it. She was determined to enjoy herself at whatever cost. A little toe smashing would not disrupt this outing. There would be no regrets—it was a blessing just to be outdoors.
Twe
nty minutes later, the men snaked through the roiling mass with a huge aluminum platter of mini tacos, a Coke, and two pitchers of beer. The assemblage of tacos resembled a small lumber pile. Avy thought about her magic costume that had succumbed to the fire, and how hard it would be to fit into a duplicate after indulging in such a meal. She tapped her foot on the floor, reminding herself again that this was supposed to be fun. All those nasty memories needed to take a hike.
She sampled a taco, then took a sip of soda. The soft shell fairly burst with grease over her lips, but she did not complain. She just gazed out the window, enjoying the sight of the passing traffic.
Chubby pushed two tacos into his mouth, chewed thrice and swallowed. “You guys would make good correctional officers,” he said, loading his hand again. “You’ve got the take-down moves perfected like a couple of ninjas. You could fill out some applications. I could put in a good word for you.”
Sebastian wiped beer suds from his mouth. “I don’t think I could handle that, Chubs. The first vanishing act on my watch might be me. No offense. Besides, I don’t think I could wrap my mind around all those cavity searches. These hands are skilled at making things disappear, not reappear.”
Avy dabbed her mouth. The napkin gained an ounce of grease. “I don’t think I would be right for the job either. I can’t keep a straight face for very long. I would end up bursting out with laughter or crying before the day ended. It’s sweet of you to offer though. We still have some savings left.”
Sebastian patted Chubby’s shoulder. “Not to worry. I answered an ad in the paper with a phone call, which gave me the nerve to send in an application. The Purple Diamond Casino in Las Vegas will be opening its doors in real soon. They have a full magic show slated for their headline act. I filled out an application I picked up at the stationary store, then sent it off with a kiss. Here’s the great part—all of the machines, tricks, and props are supplied, with custom orders on standby for the expansion of the act. It’s a great gig—a once in a lifetime opportunity. Just keeping my fingers crossed that Lance Burton or Criss Angel don’t beat me to the punch.”
The War Gate Page 26