Live in Person

by Lynda Fitzgerald

  He explained that she needed to begin to work out. “You need to be in decent physical shape to defend yourself. Nothing elaborate—a daily run on the beach, a couple hours in a gym a few days a week.”

  Allie turned away before she rolled her eyes.

  “Mental discipline is even more important,” Del explained. “You have to be mentally ready to defend yourself with any part of you. Once you’re attacked, you need to turn into a fighting machine. Don’t be afraid to hurt your assailant. That’s the goal. Go for the eyes, the throat, whatever you can get to, and give it all you have. You want to disable your attacker, not just piss him off. And use your voice. Growl. Cuss. Scream your head off. Women, especially, are afraid to use their voices, but it’s an effective weapon. Your attacker won’t expect it. It could throw him off guard. Scream like you’re furious, like you’ve gone crazy.” He paused. “Go ahead. Do it.”

  Allie looked around. “You mean now? Here?”

  Del nodded.

  “I can’t scream now. I’d feel silly.”

  Del looked at her.

  Allie drew in a deep breath and prepared to scream. What came out was more a wheeze.

  “Pitiful,” Del said, shaking his head. “OK. We’ll make it more real. I’m going to attack you with the intent to kill. Screaming is the only thing that will save you. Give it everything you have.” He spun and stalked a short distance away. He stood there staring at her for a long moment as his face transformed itself into a hideous scowl. Then, he lunged.

  Allie gasped. It was like being in the path of a speeding locomotive. She let out what she thought was a respectable scream as she hunched and turned away to lessen the inevitable pain. Nothing happened. When she turned back, Del was grinning at her, poised on his toes mere inches from her.

  “Good instincts,” he said. “Bad scream. Practice in the car. Roll up your windows, and scream your head off until it feels natural.” He came down off his toes. “Now, about your stance. Don’t hunch over. It’s an instinctive reaction because you’re protecting your body, but that enlarges the target. You want to minimize the target area. And speaking of instincts, it’s human instinct to protect the face and head. If you jab at someone’s face, he’s going to try to block it. That could open a vulnerable spot. Another thing to remember is always go for your attacker’s weak point.” Following Allie’s gaze, he said, “Not a guy’s balls. He’s going to protect them first. Whatever’s his weakest point. Backs of knees. Eyes. Be ready to gouge your attacker’s eyes out if you have to.” When Allie made a face, he said, “It’s him or you.”

  Allie thought of Sidney Finch. “I could hurt him.”

  “Don’t kid yourself. Your fight-or-flight instinct will kick in, and you’ll want to opt for flight. Train yourself to think fight. Think about it. Envision it. Daydream about it. Imagine what he’s going to do to you if you don’t stop him. He won’t be satisfied with killing you. Not from what Sheryl’s told me about him.” His eyes softened when he said Sheryl’s name before turning to ice again. “He wants to make you pay, and he’s going to do it in the ugliest way he can imagine. And from what Sheryl tells me, he has a real ugly imagination.”

  ■ ■ ■

  Sidney watched Allie climb into her Jeep and smiled. So, she was really trying to learn to defend herself. What a laugh.

  He’d followed her to Lester’s and was just about to climb out of his ride when she came back out. Scared the piss out of him. She’d glanced at him sitting in his car, but she’d seen a perky smiling redhead checking her makeup in the rearview mirror. No recognition. God, he was good.

  She put the car into drive and pulled away. He looked in the backseat at the things he’d taken from her house that morning. She’d never know he’d been there. No sign of forced entry. Not since he’d left one of her office windows unlocked that last time he’d been there. You’d have thought she would have double-checked, but not his girl Allie. Dumb as a stump.

  He couldn’t wait to give her the next surprise, but he had a few preparations to make first. Soon, though. Very soon.

  Seventeen

  Allie was surprised to see Cord’s cruiser in front of her house as she pulled into the driveway. Something about Sidney?

  She jumped out of the Jeep and met him halfway across the yard. “Did they catch him?”

  Cord shook his head. “Not yet. We’ve stepped up the search, though, now that we think he may still be in the area.” He looked uncomfortable. “Can we talk inside for a minute?”

  Allie frowned. “Sure.” She hesitated as she approached her front stoop.

  “I heard about the palmetto bugs,” Cord said.

  There was nothing waiting for her outside. Remembering the blood, she wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

  Cord apparently sensed her discomfort. “Let me go in first,” he said.

  Allie was inches behind him. Everything appeared the same as she’d left it. She checked the back door. Still locked. She breathed out. Then, she looked over her shoulder at Cord. “Coffee?”

  “No, thanks,” he said. “I don’t have long, but I wanted to update you. Can we sit down?”

  “Just let me check…” She crossed to the sofa and looked behind it. Spook looked up at her, his little tail thumping the wall.

  “OK.”

  She perched on the edge of a cushion. Cord took the chair opposite. “I visited Wally and Teresa Finch,” he said. “It appears Sidney’s been there, although they both indicate they don’t know when. He took some of his old clothes—” He paused when Allie groaned, then went on. “There was a weapon in the shelf of his closet, so he might be unarmed.”

  “Small comfort,” Allie muttered.

  “I’m not sure, but he might have stolen some of his mother’s costumes and makeup from her days in the theatre. She was unwilling to confirm or deny what was missing.”

  “I know Teresa Finch,” Allie said. “She’s not going to help us.”

  Cord nodded. “The possibility of a disguise or several disguises makes it a lot more complicated. We’re checking with the Cocoa Players to see if they keep old playbills. If we can get a list of parts she played back when she was active, we might have a better idea of what we’re looking for. In the meantime, our best means of identification is the limp. According to the doctors at Polk, it’s pronounced. He’d have trouble hiding it.”

  Allie stared at the floor, trying to imagine Sidney disguised. He could look like anyone. Man. Woman. How in the world would they ever catch him? She realized Cord had fallen silent. She looked up.

  “There’s one more thing,” Cord said. “I—um—got a call. From your mother.”

  “What?”

  Cord nodded. “She’s worried about your brother. Apparently, he’s never been out of touch this long. She wants me to look into it.”

  Allie jumped to her feet. “Of all the ridiculous, stupid…” She trailed off, sputtering.

  “Now, Allie, I know it might be a little premature—”

  “Premature? You’d think Len was six years old instead of thirty-six. It’s been what? Two days? And she’s calling the police? She’s insane!”

  Cord stood. “Well, insane or not, we’re obliged to check on him. She’s filed a missing person report. She said she asked you to look into it, but she hasn’t heard back from you.”

  Allie could feel her face burn scarlet. “I looked into it. I went to the hotel and talked to the desk clerks and the bartender. I called her back and told her what I found out, which was nothing. What else was I supposed to do?” She could feel tears of frustration threaten, and she blinked them back.

  Cord squirmed. “You did what you could. Now, we’ll take a look into it. It’s our job, Allie. Let us check it out for her.”

  When Cord was gone, Allie reached behind the sofa and picked up Spook, carrying him over to a chair. As she buried her face in his fur, tears began to slip down her face. It was just like when she was a kid. She couldn’t do anything right. If she made a “B�
� in school, it should have been an “A.” If she got a part in the school play, it should have been the lead. She wasn’t pretty enough. She wasn’t popular enough. Not like Len. She wasn’t aggressive enough to suit her mother. She hadn’t been scholarly enough to satisfy her father. She knew she was being childish, but it didn’t matter. She knew she was wallowing in self-pity, but she didn’t care.

  She hadn’t seen Len three times since her marriage. Now, he was back in her life—uninvited—and again, she was a lesser mortal. She hadn’t satisfied her mother, so Vivian called the police. She didn’t find Len, so Cord was going to do it. She had felt this way her whole damn childhood. Not good enough.

  No, that wasn’t true. Not when she was with Lou. Lou made her feel intelligent and like she was capable of accomplishing anything.

  “You are, sweetheart.”

  “So you’ve always said, but apparently, I’m not. Not capable enough for mother. Not when her precious son goes missing for two whole days. If I were missing for a month, she wouldn’t turn a hair.”

  “That’s not true, Allie. Why do you think she calls you every few days?”

  “To torture me. To belittle me.”

  “To check on you to make sure you’re all right.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Silence.

  “Does she really worry about me?”

  “Of course, she does. That’s the real reason she’s pressuring you to move back to Atlanta. So she can keep an eye on you. One of the reasons, anyway.”

  “And so I won’t become independent like you.”

  “That’s another.”

  “Well, too bad. You’re one of the most amazing women I ever met. I want to be just like you.”

  “And I want you to be just like you.”

  Her tears had dried. Spook reached up and licked her salty face. “What about that, puppy? She said my mother worries about me. What do you think about that?”

  Spook whimpered and buried his face in her hair.

  ■ ■ ■

  Allie was working in her office that night when she felt a presence behind her. She had moved her desk so it was in front of the window, and she could see Sheryl’s reflection in the glass. She spun off her chair and caught Sheryl in the midsection with her open hand. Sheryl fell backward, and her butt hit the carpet.

  “Not bad,” Sheryl said, getting back to her feet. “I told you Del’s a hell of a teacher.”

  “One class,” Allie said. “One class and I’m thinking like a warrior.”

  “What kind of shit did he put in your head? You caught me off guard because I know what a wimp you are. Were,” she said, rubbing her stomach.

  Allie felt all the blood drain out of her head. She stumbled to her feet. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. I forgot. Did I hurt you? Did I hurt the baby?”

  Sheryl laughed, pointing to her pelvic area. “The baby’s down here, dipshit. He’s going to have to grow a whole hell of a lot before he’s up there.”

  “He?”

  “Figure of speech. Can’t call it an ‘it.’ Besides, Del’s determined it’s a boy. It’ll serve him right if it’s a girl. I already told him whatever happens, it’s his sperm’s fault.”

  “Is he still as excited about the baby?”

  “He’s wacko about it. Already buying baby clothes and toys. He found this little gi—” She broke off. “That’s a—”

  “A uniform you wear for martial arts. It’s made out of coarse fabric so it can take a beating.”

  “Damn, you’re a good student. That’s what Del said.” She looked at Allie out of the corner of her eye. “And that you squeal like a pussy.”

  “I do not!”

  “Prove it. Scream.”

  Allie hesitated. Then, she let out a scream that hurt her ears.

  “Jesus!” Sheryl said.

  “I’ve been practicing,” Allie said, grinning. “Now, you’d better go tell Frank and the boys that you’re not killing me.”

  “Hell, they knocked off hours ago.”

  Allie stared at her, then at her dark window. “What time is it?”

  “Eight o’clock. You that involved in that Paradise Lost article?”

  Allie stepped in front of her computer. “I’m kind of working on something else.”

  “What?”

  “Well… it’s a story about—about Sidney. About what made him what he is.”

  “Fuck! What a depressing subject.”

  “Not really. It’s fascinating. I’ve been researching what makes a criminal a criminal. How they start in that direction. What influences shape them.”

  “All I want to know about Sidney is that he’s behind bars. Or dead.”

  Allie winced, even though she felt the same way. “Cord said he might be wearing disguises.”

  Sheryl nodded. “He alerted the department. We could be looking for anyone.”

  Neither spoke for a moment. Then, Sheryl said, “Which is what brought me here.”

  Allie realized Sheryl was in uniform. “Are you on duty?”

  “Just got off. I wanted to bring you a present. And you owe me seven hundred dollars and sixty-eight cents.”

  “What kind of present costs me seven hundred dollars?”

  “And sixty-eight cents. Come in the living room.”

  Allie followed her. Sheryl picked up a black box from the coffee table and held it out to Allie.

  “It’s too big for jewelry,” Allie said.

  “Ha, ha. Open it.”

  Allie opened it. She reached in and pulled out the gun. “It’s cute,” she said, surprised. “Cute and expensive.”

  “You can afford it,” Sheryl said, taking the gun from her. “It’s a Glock 26 Gen4. Subcompact. Small grip. Perfect for your hand. Takes nine-millimeter ammo. Ten-or fifteen-round cartridges. It comes with three tens, but I bought extra.”

  “More than thirty bullets? I’m not planning to go on a shooting spree.”

  “You have to practice, dumbass. You need to go down tomorrow and apply for a carry-concealed permit. Takes about twenty days, which we might not have, so I’m giving it to you now. Try not to shoot anyone with it unless you have to. I’d hate to waste a night bailing your ass out of jail.”

  Allie softened. It was all bluff. She knew Sheryl would take the responsibility for Allie having an illegal gun. She’d probably take a bullet to protect her best friend. “If I blow Sidney away, I’ll take full responsibility. No bail required.”

  “Sure. You say that now, but if you were behind bars, I think you’d sing a different song. Anyway, down and dirty. It has three safeties that all release when you pull the trigger. Ammo loads like this.” She reached in the box, pulled out what Allie assumed was a cartridge, and snapped it in to the handle. “Pop it out like this.” She released it and then pushed it back in. “Don’t pull the trigger unless you mean to kill.”

  That was sobering, but Allie took the gun from her.

  “We’ll get into the details later. Now, I have a late date with my honey. We plan to fool around for a while, so don’t be calling me on my cell if you shoot yourself in the foot.”

  Allie laughed. “Don’t forget to use protection.”

  Sheryl grinned. “You know, I’m kind of glad I didn’t.”

  When Sheryl was gone, Allie went back into her office. The gun was on her desk, and she picked it up. It really was somewhat cute if you didn’t think of it as a deadly weapon, and it felt good in her hand. Not heavy at all. If she had to own a gun—and she was now convinced she did—this one might be just right. Trust Sheryl to find the perfect match.

  Spook was under her desk chair, his usual spot when she was working. Now, he made a sound low in his throat. He crept out from under the chair and turned toward the window, the sound getting louder. Then, he barked.

  The unaccustomed sound scared Allie so much she almost dropped the gun. She looked. The vision staring back at her through the glass was hideous. Distorted features. Blood dripping from its mouth. She sc
reamed and raised the gun.

  Then, it was chaos. She heard footsteps running across the yard. Spook barked nonstop. Allie felt as if she was going to black out. What was that horrible thing? Then, she heard a car start in the distance and tires squeal as it sped away.

  A mask. It had to be. No creature on this Earth looked like that. Not unless it’d been dead and buried for six months. And a mask meant Sidney. It was almost his trademark. He’d worn one months ago when he was trying to scare Allie into dropping her investigation of Jean Arbutten’s death. A different one, not nearly as frightening. Knowing it was Sidney didn’t help a bit; it made it worse.

  That’s when she realized the window lock was disengaged, and she gasped. God, he could have come right in. When did she forget to lock it? She shook her head. She hadn’t. She kept the windows locked all the time. Which meant Sidney must have left it unlocked the last time he was in her house. What if she hadn’t noticed it was unlocked. She could have been sleeping in her bed… She shivered as she reached over and twisted the lock, yanking the curtains closed.

  She put the gun down on her desk and picked up Spook. “Good dog. Good dog, Spook,” she murmured. “It’s OK. It’s gone, baby. The bad man is gone. It’s OK.”

  She hoped her words calmed Spook, because they weren’t doing a damn thing to calm her.

  ■ ■ ■

  Sidney took deep breaths as he drove. Jesus, was he stupid? He almost got his fucking head blown off because of pure carelessness. Who coulda known the bitch would have a weapon? Most broads didn’t like guns. This had to be Levine’s doing.

  He’d only meant to freak her out, a little something to get her in the right frame of mind for tomorrow night. Once she saw him, he was going to creep away, and he would have if that little dog hadn’t barked.

  Hell, he couldn’t blame the dog. It was just doing its job, the same way Sidney had always tried to do his job. Besides, the dog had never barked before. Not in all the times Sidney had broken in. Was it mad at him for locking it in the office? Jeez. He’d had to do that. Otherwise, it might have gotten outside and gotten run over or something. But how did you explain something like that to a pup?

  He ripped off the mask and wig and stuffed them in his duffle bag on the passenger seat. He needed to check on his prisoner. Even though Sidney kept him drugged, it didn’t do to leave him unattended for too long, but he needed funds. That meant another trip to his parents’ house. And he had to get rid of this car. He’d been driving it for twenty-four hours. Long enough.