by Brenda Novak
After a moment, she looked up at him again, his feelings for her all but forgotten. “I’ve got an idea,” she said.
He waited for her to continue.
“I’m going to take the car in the morning and pay Pam Cooper and Karen Hickman a visit. I’ll pretend I’m a reporter doing a story about you.”
“Eight years after the fact?”
“Since you’re in the news right now, they won’t think it’s unusual.”
“What if they recognize your face?”
“I bought some hair dye when we were in Utah, but didn’t have time to use it. I’ll darken my hair tonight, cut it, put on some lipstick and a pair of sunglasses, and no one will be the wiser.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“We have two people who talked to someone with a voice synthesizer, which could be anyone. We need a name. If I set off early in the morning, I should be able to talk to both women and return here by five.”
“I’ll go with you. They could be dangerous.”
“You need another day of rest. I’ll be fine.”
The three hundred dollars Sophie had left on the table caught his eye, and got him thinking. “Most of the guys I met in prison murdered for one reason only,” he said under his breath.
She looked over her computer at him. “And that would be?”
“Money.” Gingerly, he moved his feet off the couch and to the floor. “Maybe Dirk not only wanted to sell the business, he needed to sell the business.”
“You think he might have owed someone a large sum of money?”
“You asked me a while ago who wanted to sell the business in the first place. I’ve thought about it some more and it came to me while I was sleeping earlier. It was Dirk. He was the one who brought the deal to the table. Why was Dirk suddenly interested in selling the business? At the time, I knew he needed money to take care of his son, but mostly I thought the idea to sell came out of left field. Now I can’t help but wonder if he owed someone a lot of money.”
“If that were true, selling the company would be a logical thing for him to want to do. So who do you think he could possibly owe that kind of money to?”
“Dirk wasn’t just a player,” Jason told her, “he was a partier. He made a lot of bad decisions. He liked to gamble, and lost a lot of money over the years.”
They were both quiet for a moment
“Now more than ever, I need to get hold of my computer.”
“The computer from your office, right?”
“I only had one computer, a laptop, that I kept at work.”
“Don’t you think it would have been tossed by now?”
“Not necessarily. Colin said that the company that bought Viro Pro kept all the computers. Many times companies keep back-up computers in case a file is corrupt. And most companies don’t make wiping a hard drive clean a priority. It’s time-consuming and costly.” Jason rubbed the tension out of the back of his neck. “It took a few years for Colin to sell the business, so maybe D.M.S. still uses it or never got around to getting rid of it.”
Angela finished typing when she found the info she was looking for. “Viro Pro was sold in early 2011. So now what?”
“I need to find out if D.M.S. Protection, the company that bought us out, is still around.”
It only took her a moment to find what they were looking for. “D.M.S. Protection is still in business. They’re doing well, in fact. Dale Burnside is in charge of finance.”
He headed for the phone in the kitchen, ignoring the pain as he went. “Do you see a number?”
“Got it.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ever since leaving Jason alone at the house that morning, Angela had been uneasy. What if Dirk had been involved with the mob? If so, those same people could be responsible for yesterday’s attack. At this point, she would rather see federal agents find him than heavies with guns. If she weren’t five minutes away from Karen Hickman’s house, she would have turned around and headed back. But she was too close now.
She’d already crossed the first woman off their list. Pam Cooper had just been leaving for work when Angela pulled up to her house. The woman didn’t seem surprised at all that a reporter would show up asking questions about Jason Caldwell. Although Pam only had a few minutes to talk, she admitted to being angry at Dirk when she found out he was seeing other women. He drank too much and he once put a fist through her wall, she told Angela. But even then it took her six months to realize he wasn’t worth the trouble, and so she’d cut all ties.
As Karen Hickman’s residence came into view, Angela found herself thinking about Jason’s confession…the feelings he had for her. Something stirred within. He was a good man, and she had feelings for him, too. But she had a tendency to fall for men too fast. She might be book smart and good with computers, but when it came to relationships, she wasn’t always the best judge of character. She only wished things could have been different, that they could have met at another time and place.
After parking across the street from Karen Hickman’s house, she made her way to the door. The home appeared neglected. A rotted tree surrounded by fallen branches took up most of the front lawn. The front window was cracked and the front door looked as if it had been pieced together after being kicked down. Anchoring her newly dyed hair behind her ear, she rapped her knuckles against the door. As she waited, she readied her notebook and pen, trying to look the part.
The door creaked partially open, sending a prickling unease down her spine.
The woman’s face was pale and framed by tangled red hair. Peering out, she exhaled cigarette smoke through her nose. “What is it?”
“My name is Lisa Smith. I’m with News Media Magazine. I was hoping to talk to Karen Hickman about Jason Caldwell and Dirk Taylor?”
“Who is it?” a male voice bellowed from inside.
“It’s a reporter,” the woman shouted back, causing spittle to spray.
A beefy, shirtless man came to the door and opened it wide.
Angela took a step backward.
He was short and stocky with a head as round as a bowling ball. His jeans were filthy and his shirtless torso was covered in dark hair sprinkled with gray.
Angela didn’t like the way he was looking at her—not sexually, but as if he were contemplating all the different ways he might make her suffer if he could get a few minutes alone with her.
“What do you want with Karen?” he asked.
“I just have a few questions to ask her about Dirk Taylor.”
He looked at Karen. “Anyone you know?”
“Leave us alone, George.”
He didn’t budge. “So, who is he?”
Karen took a hit off her cigarette. “I was seeing him before I met you.” She looked back at Angela. “I guess this has something to do with Jason Caldwell’s escape?”
Angela nodded.
A deep crease settled across George’s forehead. “That name sounds familiar.”
“He’s that killer who’s been all over the news. You know…the fugitive who escaped prison and then kidnapped that girl who worked at the morgue.” She tossed the butt of her cigarette on the ground and didn’t bother stamping it out. It rolled toward Angela. Using the heel of her shoe, she crushed it.
Angela hadn’t driven all this way to listen to these two argue. Enough already. Get what you need and get out of here, she told herself. “Did the police ever talk to you about Dirk after he was murdered?”
Struck by a sudden bout of smoker’s cough, she shook her head.
Hoping to get a rise out of the woman and get her talking, Angela continued, “Don’t you think it’s strange that they wouldn’t talk to Dirk Taylor’s jilted girlfriend?”
The woman smirked. “I don’t know about where you’re from, but around here the police all have their heads up their asses. For the record, I wasn’t a jilted girlfriend.”
“How so?”
“Look. Any woman who crawled into bed with Dirk knew
exactly what she was getting into. He never pretended to be anyone he wasn’t.”
“I don’t like where this conversation is headed,” George cut in.
Karen knocked him in the gut with her forearm. “Then leave us the fuck alone.”
“Fuck you. I’m trying to protect your ass.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “Dirk was a flirt and a cheat,” she told Angela, suddenly determined to have her say. “He made it clear he wasn’t in it for keeps. That man was all about pleasure. He knew how to give as good as he got. And that’s why he had so many women.”
“If I were you,” George told Karen, “I’d shut your damn mouth. This reporter thinks you had something to do with that dude’s murder.” Frustrated, he walked away.
Karen looked at Angela. “Is that true?”
“No, of course not.”
She didn’t look convinced. “If this story is about Jason Caldwell’s escape, why are we talking about Dirk?”
“There are rumors going around that Jason Caldwell is innocent. If that’s true, then we want to know who killed Dirk Taylor.”
“I think maybe George is right about you. I think you should go.”
Angela put a hand on the door, stopping Karen from shutting her out just yet. “Please. Jason Caldwell has spent eight years in prison for a murder I don’t believe he committed. You might be the only person on earth who can help this man. That’s why I’m here. From what I’ve heard, Dirk Taylor cared deeply for you. If anyone knew anything, I figured it would be the woman who knew him best.”
Karen gestured her head toward the inside of the house. “You better leave before he comes back.”
“Please. Just one more question.”
The woman huffed, but paused just the same.
“Did Dirk ever talk to you about any other woman he might have been seeing at the time who was causing him problems?”
The woman sighed and then lowered her voice. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but yes, there was one woman he was worried about.”
Angela tried not to get overly excited. “Did he mention a name?”
Karen shook her head. “Just said something about making a big mistake with a woman close to home. She was pregnant with his baby and he wanted her to get rid of it. He said she had more than one screw loose, and that he planned to cut her loose real soon.”
“Any idea what he meant by ‘close to home’?”
She shrugged. “I assumed he meant it was someone in his hometown or where he worked.”
“Do you know if he ever ‘cut her loose’?”
“No idea. That was the last conversation I ever had with Dirk.”
George was back. He took a firm hold of Karen’s forearm, pulled her inside, and slammed the door in Angela’s face.
***
Jason spent most of the day figuring out how he would break into the warehouse where, according to the person he’d talked to at D.M.S. Protective Services, his computer was being stored. After telling the man on the other end of the line that he was Colin Ferard, and that he needed the computer for legal purposes, Jason was told that all he had to do was fill out a few forms at the corporate office. Once approved, they would be happy to walk him through the warehouse on Messing Road in Sacramento. Apparently, they kept archived folders and old equipment for at least ten years before it was tossed.
Jason had no intention of filling out any forms. Instead, he planned to wait until dark and then break into the warehouse. He’d already found a crowbar, a wire cutter, and a flashlight in the garage.
Having showered for the first time in days, making sure to keep his wound dry, he was finally dressed in clean clothes, feeling better than he had in a while.
It was past seven. He did whatever he could think of to keep his mind off of Angela. He was worried about her. He never should have agreed to let her go alone. So far, the stolen cell phone had proved worthless. It was a disposable, no-contract phone with no stored numbers as far as he could tell. And it had yet to ring.
Just as he made his way out of the bedroom and down the hallway, he heard the front door open. He found Angela putting her things on the kitchen counter.
“How did it go?”
Her eyes brightened when she saw him. “How are you feeling? You look much better.”
“Thanks to you.” He crossed his arms. “So, did you learn anything?”
“I did. I think there’s a very good possibility that it was one of Dirk’s mistresses who killed him.”
“Any idea who?”
“No. One of the women I talked to said that Dirk mentioned making a mistake with a woman who was too close to home. He was talking about breaking up with her days before his death.”
“It’s Sophie,” he said under his breath.
“What did you say?”
“It has to be Sophie.”
“Was she pregnant?”
“Not that I know of.”
“The woman we’re looking for was pregnant at the time. Dirk wanted her to get rid of the baby.”
Jason looked suddenly pale.
“Are you okay?” She walked over to him and put her arms around him.
Jason pulled her close, their faces touching. Grief for all he’d lost floated downward and settled in his gut like a heavy rock thrown into a pool of water. For the first time, the realization that the killer was more than likely someone he knew and trusted was almost too much to bear. For eight years he’d been treated like scum. Why? For what? Who hated him that much?
And then there was Angela Chack, a woman he hardly knew, putting everything on the line for him. Without her, he never would have made it this far. Without her, he never would have believed that there was still good in the world.
He pulled her closer yet, covering her mouth with his, and in that moment he was taken to another place. She tasted like springtime, and everything he’d missed out on these past years.
Much too soon, she put her hands on his chest and gently pushed away, just enough so she could look into his eyes. “We can’t do this. Certainly not now. If it’s Sophie, that would mean we’re being watched.”
“You’re right. Not the best timing.” He wasn’t ready to let her go, but he took her hand in his.
She smiled up at him.
“Life can certainly get crazy,” he said. “I hate that you’ve become a part of my mess, but I’m grateful for everything you’ve done…and to have you here.”
“You already know I wouldn’t have it any other way. I can’t stand the idea of you being dragged back to prison.”
“Listen,” he said, pushing a few strands of hair out of her eyes. “I talked to someone in finance at D.M.S. The computers from Viro Pro, along with files, are being stored in a warehouse not too far from here. Forms need to be filled out at the corporate office if I want the computer back.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to break into the warehouse tonight.”
“I’m going with you.”
“No. You need to stay here.” He looked into her eyes. “I want you safe and out of harm’s way.”
“If Sophie is our girl, then I’m no safer here. I’m coming with you.”
Chapter Fourteen
They parked in a dirt lot behind the warehouse and donned dark caps and gloves.
Jason looked at Angela. “Ready?”
She nodded. “Let’s do this.”
As they left the car, he hoisted a backpack filled with the tools he’d found at the house. Angela walked quietly by his side. If something went wrong, if an alarm went off or the cops showed up, Angela was to drop everything and run back to the car. She carried the key. Under no circumstance was she to wait for him.
Don’t be foolish, he’d told her more than once. Drive off. Get away.
The night was warm, bordering on balmy. They had used the Internet to get a bird’s eye view of place ahead of time. It was a large freestanding building, twenty thousand square feet of space.
As they drew closer, Jason heard traffic coming from Sunrise Blvd. He moved slowly around the outside of the building, shining the beam of his flashlight over the stucco.
“What are you looking for?”
“The keypad that would be used for the alarm. Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Moving with quick, light steps, he disappeared around the building. When he returned, he peered inside a low window, checking in every direction. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t see any sign that the place has been wired with alarms. There could be motion detectors above the doors, but the windows are clear.”
***
She picked up the phone and headed into the other room so she wouldn’t be heard. “What the hell is going on? Your time is almost up.”
“My men have their sights on him now. You were right. They were able to follow that Sophie woman right to him. The bad news is that Jason was just taking off in a Volvo, and he wasn’t alone.”
“Did Sophie see you?”
“No.”
“Who’s he with?”
“Not the girl from the morgue. This woman had dark hair. She was petite, pretty.”
“Jesus. Are you going to tell me what she was wearing next? Where are they now?”
“Calm down. They’re in Sacramento, checking out a storage area.”
“What’s he doing there?”
“I have no idea. But I do know it’ll all be over soon.”
“Call me back when it’s done.”
She hung up the phone, then cursed under her breath.
“Is there a problem?”
“Go back to bed. Everything’s fine.”
“You know I worry about you. You should get some sleep.”
“I will.”
“I love you.”
She stared blankly at the woman in front of her. “I know you do.”
***
“Tell me again exactly what we’re looking for—you know—what the computer looks like,” Angela whispered.