by Harlan Coben
Chapter 11
Eric Wu had seen the lingerie-clad woman in the window. The previous night had been a long one for Wu. He had not anticipated any interference, and while the large man-his wallet said his name was Rocky Conwell-had presented no threat, Wu now had to get rid of a body and another car. That meant an extra trip back up to Central Valley, New York.
First things first. He packed Rocky Conwell into the trunk of his Toyota Celica. He moved Jack Lawson, whom he had originally jammed into the Honda Accord's trunk, to the back of the Ford Windstar. Once the bodies were out of sight, Wu changed license plates, got rid of the E-ZPass, and drove the Ford Windstar back to Ho-Ho-Kus. He parked the minivan in Freddy Sykes's garage. There was still enough time to catch a bus back up to Central Valley. Wu searched Conwell's car. Satisfied that it was cleared out, he took it to the Park-n-Ride on Route 17. He found a remote spot near the fence. A car being left there for days, even weeks, was not unusual. The smell would eventually bring attention, but that would not be anytime soon.
The Park-n-Ride was only three miles from Sykes's house in Ho-Ho-Kus. Wu walked. Early the next morning, he rose and caught the bus back to Central Valley. He picked up Sykes's Honda Accord. On the way back, he took a brief detour past the Lawson residence.
A patrol car was in the driveway.
Wu considered that. It did not cause him great concern, but perhaps he should nip any police involvement in the bud. He knew just how.
Wu drove back to Freddy's residence and turned on the television. Wu liked daytime TV. He enjoyed watching shows like Springer and RickiLake . Most people poo-pooed them. Wu did not. Only a truly great society, a free one, could allow such nonsense to air. But more than that, stupidity made Wu happy. People were sheep. The weaker they are, the stronger you are. What could be more comforting or entertaining?
During a commercial-the theme of the show, according to a graphic on the bottom: "Mommy Won't Let Me Get a Nipple Ring!"-Wu rose. It was time to take care of the potential police problem.
Wu didn't need to touch Jack Lawson. All he had to say was one sentence: "I know that you have two children. "
Lawson cooperated. He made the call to his wife's cell phone and told her he needed space.
At ten-forty-five-with Wu watching a mother and daughter wrestle across a stage while a crowd chanted "Jerry!"-a call came in from a prison acquaintance.
"All okay?"
Wu said yes.
He pulled the Honda Accord out of the garage. As he did, he noticed the woman who lived next door standing in the window. She was wearing lingerie. Wu might not have thought much about the scene-a woman still in her unmentionables after ten in the morning-but something about the way she suddenly ducked away. . .
That might have been a natural reaction. You parade around in lingerie, forgetting to pull down your shade, and then you spot a stranger. Many people, perhaps most people, would move away or cover up. So it could be nothing.
But the woman had moved very fast, as if in a panic. More than that, she had not moved when the car first pulled out-only when she'd spotted Wu. If she had been afraid of being seen, wouldn't she have pulled the shade or ducked down when she first heard or saw the car?
Wu pondered that. He had, in fact, been pondering it all day.
He picked up his cell phone and hit the button to dial the last incoming number.
A voice said, "Problem?"
"I don't think so. " Wu turned the car around and started back toward the Sykes house. "But I may be late. "