by R Weir
Chapter 28
With a little web research on my smartphone I did find Chad Billings’s home address in Lakewood. I headed over there, not knowing for sure what I would do once I found Jim—if I found Jim—but knew I needed to talk with him before the police. I had to find out more about his connection to Reliable Consulting and Emily. There was definitely some missing piece of the puzzle to discover by talking to him. It couldn’t have been a coincidence he had worked for Emily.
Surveillance duty is less than glamorous and often meant lengthy hours sitting, watching and waiting. One needed supplies for such work, so I stopped by a local Subway and picked up a foot-long turkey, cheese with yellow mustard on wheat sub, two chocolate chip cookies and two bottles of water. I found Chad’s home and spotted parking spaces several houses down with a clear line of sight. The single-story brown brick house had a detached two-car garage built back of the structure. There was a late ’70s white Firebird parked in the driveway, but it wasn’t Jim’s. Cruising the neighborhood revealed his vehicle nowhere nearby. If he was staying with Chad, he’d either ditched it or it was in the garage. For now I needed to be patient and watch. I was highly skilled at sitting and doing nothing.
One of the upgrades to the Mustang recently was a new audio system with all the fancy features, a light-years upgrade from the analog push-button stock stereo of yesteryear. Digital display, multi speakers, Bluetooth, multiple-station programming and a CD player were the key components I wanted. I could even play music from my smartphone and use the device hands-free for taking and receiving calls. I was proud that I was so up-to-date. I still preferred an ear-type headset so I’d only set up the smartphone for playing MP3s. I used the Windows-based phone software to randomly play some rock tunes I enjoyed from a surveillance playlist I’d created, with the volume down so that it played in the background.
The random shuffle started with “China Grove” by the Doobie Brothers, my foot tapping to the beat.
While waiting I went over all that had happened with the case, needing to keep the brain busy as the danger of nodding off was real. In the beginning I’d learned Emily was apparently being stalked, with three possible suspects so far. Two men she had worked with at one time or another and one, her ex-husband, who had been accused of stalking her previously when she left him and filed for divorce.
There was Rickie, who had dated Emily once claiming to have slept with her, moved on for better employment, but wanted his old job back after his current employer went out of business. He was arrested after causing a disturbance at her work, confessed to shadowing her, was bailed out by someone anonymously and soon after he was brutally beaten up and died from his injuries. Before passing he withdrew his confession, claiming it was made under duress, while insisting again to have engaged in a one-night affair that Emily always denied. Rickie was a suspect for certain, yet I couldn’t get a read on him and wasn’t sure what to believe coming out of his mouth.
The ex-husband, Mark, had stalked her when they were getting divorced, or at least was accused of doing so, and had moved to Canada and recently returned. There had been no sign he was stalking her again, but he still appeared to be in love with Emily, trying to capture closure years after the separation. While confronting him he came off angry and bitter, like a lost soul with no life other than work and softball. Yet I somehow didn’t believe he was the shadow hounding her.
The last name on the list was Jim, a mystery man whom Emily had just admitted having an affair with, who had clocked me in the head, crashed her party, where I forced him to leave. Soon after I caught him in mid-rape and let him escape due to my hesitation. A man whose marriage was in shambles, his career in the toilet and now on the run, wanted by the police. Evidence made him the perfect suspect, and yet I had doubts. Three suspects, and not a solid gut feeling to lead me to favor one over the other.
The street was quiet, as was the neighborhood and the house I was watching. Up and down the bumpy road were all types of vehicles. There were compact cars, Escorts and Priuses, to larger cars, Malibu to Lexus; SUVs from small to large, CRVs to Tahoes. Among the four-wheeled internal combustion machines a lone Ducati crotch rocket occupied a street slot in the hot sun, heat rising from the black seat. All shapes, sizes and colors, fuel sippers to gas guzzlers, filled the roads and driveways.
Bruce Springsteen sang “My Hometown” with joy and sorrow.
Mix in Brandon Sparks, a powerful man, likely involved in shady doings, who had wanted to be kept informed but didn’t want to say why, sending two of his thugs to bring me to him to talk. Their attempts at persuasion failed against me as I’d bested them with my own. Later they may have used force again to rough up Rickie, leading to his death, because they thought he was stalking Emily. Eventually I’d learn from Emily that Brandon was her stepfather, whom she didn’t like and claimed to have no contact with anymore.
Add in Emily herself, coming off as innocent when we first met. A businesswoman wanting to get on with her life, claiming to be stalked and in fear for her safety, only to find out she wasn’t quite what she appeared to be. After the attempted rape, or alleged rape as they say in the media, her behavior afterwards was odd and hardly that of a woman who had been attacked. It was almost like foreplay to get her in the mood, and me in her home to wildly seduce successfully. In hindsight, this had been a mistake I wished I hadn’t made, but it was a little late to correct. Before that she tried to sour me on Melissa by telling me she was only sleeping with me to get information, something which Melissa strongly denied yet still drove a wedge between us.
U2 rocked through the cab with “New Year’s Day,” asking for peace in the midst of war and destruction.
The homes on each side of the street were unique; no cookie-cutter slapped-together buildings, all with their own style and distinction and no repeats. Single-story ranch, two stories with detached or attached one- and two-car garages. Full yards with large trees front and back, wood and metal fencing dividing each lot. A mix of brick and wood siding, a couple of modern never-need-to-paint vinyl siding styles mixed in. The harsh sun from the mile-high elevation warped and peeled even the best materials, and the maintenance-free still required fresh coats every five to ten years. Upkeep was good house to house. No trash on the sides of homes, no old, rusted-out cars sitting in driveways; the grass was green, weed free and neatly trimmed. These owners seemed to care and maintain their investments with a sense of pride not often seen in some areas. But for an occasional squirrel running up a tree, the street remained peaceful.
Nobody in all of this appeared to be what they claimed to be, and it made for a confusing mess, which didn’t make complete sense to me. It did seem clear Emily was withholding information all along, some she later confessed to, but was there more? I hoped if I could get to Jim before the police I could learn key facts from him about her. That would require he open up to me, and our three previous face-to-face encounters had always ended badly. So trust between us was not likely easy to establish.
“Boulevard of Broken Dreams” pounded the speakers even with the volume low, the Green Day song pushing their capabilities.
Though I had found a shady spot to park the cover was beginning to move with the sun and the heat of the day started to warm the inside of my car. I rolled down all the windows, as the hot noon air began to bake the city. A forecast of near 90 with little breeze today appeared spot on, making the waiting even more challenging. The old Mustang did have the optional air conditioning but I did not want to have it running while I waited, as it always looked suspicious to any vigilant neighbors. Of course, a man sitting in a car eating a turkey sub didn’t look normal either. My cover was a guy stopping to eat lunch before returning to work if someone asked. It was weak at best, but the empty Subway wrappers would help sell it.
Two hours passed and I had consumed half the sandwich, one of the cookies, a full container and third of the second bottle of water. Running over the case over and over again I was still not coming to a
ny conclusion. My mind shifted to Melissa, which brought a smile, though mostly a confused smile. I missed her touch, smell and companionship. Falling hard for her in a short period of time, clearing the case from my head before going any further was a priority. Emily’s demeaning comments had ruined my ideal of her. I couldn’t say if any of it was true, but once the job was over I’d know for sure as she would no longer need information from me. I couldn’t bear the thought, as I did care for her and we seemed compatible in many ways, including the sex, which had been spectacular: always a plus. Though I could say the sex with Emily was pretty darn good too and extremely passionate, it came across differently, less personal and not as intimate as it was with Melissa. I sensed the connection wasn’t on the same level.
Peter Gabriel sang out “Sledgehammer,” getting me to wish I had a sledgehammer to break through the walls of this seemingly impenetrable case.
Time marched on, the sub and cookies consumed, the last of the water gone, and finally there was some activity. Out of the front door came jogging a tall, tanned man, wearing blue jeans, a black Harley Davidson T-shirt, Dallas Cowboys baseball cap and bright orange running shoes. He hopped into his Firebird, backed out of the driveway and sped down the road. It was obviously not Jim, and I could see it appeared to be Chad when comparing to his online picture. I had to choose either to stay with the house or follow him. I decided to follow and discover what it led me to. I was tired of sitting and would soon need a bathroom break from the water I drank. Peeing into the empty subway bottle was always an option, but not my first choice. And the homeowners on this block would not be happy with me soiling their pretty green grass.
The house was located on Everett and West 1st Street, so we headed west on West 1st street until we came to South Garrison Street. From there we kept going south until West Alameda Avenue, where we took a right until coming to West Kipling Parkway. The heavy traffic forced me to stay close or possibly lose him. If he was expecting to be followed, he would see me, so I hoped he wasn’t watching closely. I had to chance it, and twice I almost lost him running lights to keep up. I’d be getting a pretty picture in the mail of my face and car license courtesy of the traffic cameras, with a ticket for running the red. Finally he turned left onto the South Kipling Frontage road leading to Addenbrooke Park. He found a parking spot in an open area and got out of his car. He took one of the walking paths nearby and headed off into the distance where I could no longer see him. Many people here fished, picnicked or hiked. There also were three softball diamonds, soccer field, a playground, tennis and basketball courts. The walkways were extensive so spotting him wouldn’t be a problem, and I would still be able to maintain my distance. I decided to follow him on foot, as a good stroll would work off the foot-long and cookies. But first, a quick bathroom break was needed. I hurriedly ran to the public restroom.
Once done, and I could pee quickly in a pinch, I jogged toward the trail to catch up. The pathway was pretty open and soon I saw him a few hundred yards ahead: the bright orange shoes acting like a beacon in the daylight. He was in no rush to get where he was going, looking around as if searching for something or someone. Being a lovely summer day there were many people on the paths, so I blended in well. Still, I kept my distance and we walked quite a ways. Suddenly he stopped and veered off the path toward a tree where a man was standing. I couldn’t say for sure since I didn’t have a clear view but I would bet it was Jim, as Chad came up to him and shook his hand. I walked on past, ignoring them, doing my best to hide my face by looking the other way and doubled back into some nearby trees where I could still see them. Their conversation seemed pretty cordial at first and then turned heated. Hearing was difficult but I could ascertain through body gestures and undertones that the conversation wasn’t a friendly one. After a few minutes, though, Jim motioned his hands up and down, as if he was trying to calm things down. Soon after, it appeared he was pleading for Chad to help him, finally convincing him. He handed Jim some cash and his car keys, while Jim gave him his. They shook hands, and Chad walked back the way he came to likely drive off in Jim’s vehicle. Since the car was wanted, this would get Chad in big trouble if stopped. This was the price of friendship, I supposed.
Jim sat on the grass counting the money he’d gotten, biding his time, in little rush to leave. I watched as he nervously tapped his hand on his knee, likely contemplating his next move. Deciding to approach him and see how he’d react, I used a pair of razor-thin female joggers passing by as a shield and came up as quietly as possible, but he turned and saw me. He jumped up and looked around for an escape route as soon as he recognized the face. I put up my hand to caution him not to move.
“I’m only here to talk,” I said. “I don’t want any trouble. I need to get some information from you. Hopefully, I can convince you to turn yourself in, I but won’t force you.” I lied about the forced part, as I had an obligation to bring him in. I was attempting to gain his trust.
He looked scared and still wasn’t sure what to do. Flight was not a good option. You could see he was tired and probably hungry, as he couldn’t purchase food from anywhere public for fear of being seen.
“Let’s have a seat,” I said, waving him to sit in the grass.
“OK,” he replied cautiously.
“I have questions to ask you. I only want the truth.” I sat down shortly after he did but kept a fair amount of space between us.
“I suppose you followed Chad,” he stated angrily. “That idiot! I warned him to watch for tails. How did you find out about him?”
I didn’t answer him.
“It was Carol, wasn’t it!”
“No,” I answered, which was another lie. “I did talk with her, and she is worried about you. I told her I could help you if you’d let me. I learned of Chad from other sources. All part of being a good detective.”
“Bitch,” he mumbled. “Only cares about herself and what others will think. It’s not me she’s worried about.”
“My impression was she generally cares. Though she is hurt by your actions.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” he said. “Only did what she wanted me to do.”
“I doubt Carol asked you to have an affair!”
“No, not Carol, but Emily. I did what she wanted me to do.”
“Tell me about it?”
“I’m not sure I should. I may be incriminating myself by telling you.”
“It’s possible, but what is there to lose. Right now you’re wanted for attempted rape and stalking. Add on animal cruelty for killing her neighbor’s dog and you’ve got the criminal triple play.” I threw that in to see his reaction. I wasn’t sure it was him, but it was worth a shot.
Striking a nerve, he shook his head as if it hurt. You could read the confusion and anger in his face. He was tightly wound, and I prepared myself for the possibly he would lash out or run. I was ready for him, and if he made a move, I’d take him down. I wasn’t about to lose a third time to him.
“Look,” I said. “I know you’re in a world of hurt right now. I tracked you down and I have my cell phone, where I could have easily called the police and they’d be here shortly arresting you. I don’t want that until I hear what you have to say about all of this. All is not as it appears to be. Emily may be the one pulling the strings. She is one strong and pretty woman who can get a man to do anything for her that she wants.”
He shook his head a couple of times as if to say yes to each word I said. It was never easy to admit you had been manipulated.
“She got to me too,” I stated. “I believed her and did her bidding too. She even seduced me after she claimed you were trying to rape her. That isn’t a normal reaction.”
He looked down at his hands resting in his lap, not wanting to look me in the eye.
“She told me to come over,” he said. “She was talking dirty to me, describing in graphic detail what she desired. She had left the side door unlocked and scripted me to walk upstairs when she called and she’d be wait
ing. I was to rip off her clothes and take her. She liked to play games, role-playing to heighten the mood. It really got her off. I couldn’t resist her, like all the other times.”
“How did you two meet?”
“I interviewed for a job at her office. She has the final say on all hires. She was the last interview, and she needed me for a special project they were working on out of state. If it worked out I might be able to come on full time, doing very specific, detailed work in improving a company’s project management to better its bottom line. It’s what I do the best, dig into their procedures and outline steps to make them more efficient. We travelled together to California a couple of times. It was work all day, but at night she became a different person. We’d get together and talk over dinner, and she would become this sex kitten after a few drinks. Say suggestive things, offer to come to my room afterwards. I resisted but my relationship had gone cold with the wife since she worked so much, and I couldn’t help myself. She was so hot and horny, as was I. No strings, she said, just wild sex, and she would leave and the next day it was as if nothing happened. She was a drug where I couldn’t get enough. Once the job was over, she decided not to keep me at work. I had no contact with her until a few weeks ago when she called.”
He was on a roll so I didn’t want to interrupt. His eyes now looked my way, but not at me.
“She wanted me to come to Boone’s and meet her and her friend. She said to bring a friend too, so I brought Chad. We hooked up that night, me with her and Chad with Karen. We went to her friend’s house and it was like being in an X-rated movie. Karen was all over Chad, fucking him right there in the living room, while Emily and I had sex in the kitchen. I took her home and she asked me for a favor. Said she’d give me a blowjob in the car if I agreed to it. She wanted me to kill the dog she was watching for her neighbors. Couldn’t stand it, as it barked all the time and annoyed her. I told her no, but she started unzipping my pants and stroking me. I was so excited by the danger of someone seeing us I said yes, and she finished me off and it was spectacular. So much better than the sterile love life the wife and I had. She planned out each detail to kill him. She would go shopping, while leaving the back door unlocked, and then text me so she was nowhere nearby when it happened and would have an alibi. I went in and the beagle started barking at me. I grabbed the knife and kept stabbing it, knowing I would get more of her pleasure for killing it. She had me by the crotch.”