“Wow. You don’t have to. You’ve got it bad. You’ve known this guy exactly how long?”
“Four and a half weeks.”
“Yikes,” Karen said softly.
“It has happened so fast that I’m still reeling from the impact. Two months ago I hadn’t even heard of him.”
Mandy stood abruptly. “My advice to you is break up with Tom, tell your parents you’re sorry it screws up their business deal and then run off to a remote island with this guy. I can’t wait to meet him.” She looked toward the kitchen and added, “Damn. I forgot the tea. We could walk on it by now.”
“That’s okay, I’m too tired to care. Do you think I can crash on your couch?” Mandy yawned expansively. “I could call a cab but then I’d have to walk downstairs to get in the taxi.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll get an extra blanket and pillow for you.” She stopped as she turned toward the bedroom. “Don’t you think the gang at your office will find it curious if you show up for work in that outfit?” She indicated the cocktail dress, complete with décolletage, that Mandy was wearing.
“I’ve been there so little in recent weeks they probably won’t even recognize me. I rarely go to the office these days, I do the research at home. The office is regarded as dangerous territory since my pen pal sends his notes there.”
“I see.” Karen hesitated and then said, “You know, I’m jealous. Many people never have the feelings you just described and I’m afraid I’ll be one of them.” She shrugged.
“Your prince will show up one day,” Mandy replied lightly.
“Yeah, and with my luck I’ll slam the door in his face when he does,” Karen replied, and trudged off to the bedroom.
Mandy collapsed on the couch and was asleep before Karen’s light went out.
* * * * *
When Mandy got to Kelly’s office on Monday afternoon they both acted as if the dance at the fundraiser hadn’t happened. Neither mentioned it so they didn’t discuss it, and it was therefore easy for them to ignore it. But every once in a while Mandy would catch Kelly looking at her with a new expression in his eyes. Was it longing? Or regret at a missed opportunity? She didn’t know but it made her aware that he remembered their dance together as well as she did, even if he was trying to pretend otherwise for the sake of their working relationship.
The waste paper from the takeout lunch sat in the trash can in Kelly's office by the time Frank Wancek appeared at two o’clock. He held a new pile of 8 by 10 glossies and a stack of manila folders.
"Sorry it took so long. Today I printed everything from the lists we had excluded earlier," he said to Kelly, handing him the pile. "I came up with several new possibilities. If this doesn’t help you, I’m out of ideas. We’ll have to try different search criteria next time.”
Kelly nodded. "Thanks." He took the stack and began to examine the pictures immediately. He was all business now.
"Let me know if you need anything else," Frank said as he left.
Kelly nodded again, not even answering him. Kelly sifted through the photos as if they were a stack of playing cards.
"Look at this new collection of zipheads," he said musingly to Mandy. "Losers Incorporated, Part – what day is it of this records search? Part Eight. Let's see what's behind door number one."
He held up a folder and showed Mandy the photo. "Do you remember this guy?"
Mandy looked at the grainy black and white shot of a middle aged man with graying hair and a three days' growth of beard.
She shook her head. "Most of them look like that," she said.
Kelly nodded. “I know." He sighed.
They discussed and discarded several other photos in rapid succession. Kelly picked up the fifth picture. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and read a little of what Frank had given him, then put the folder aside.
"No?" Mandy asked.
"No. That creep is a child molester. They're afraid of other adults, especially of attractive ladies who might expect them to perform. They abuse kids because kids are defenseless. That's not our guy."
Mandy listened, wondering if she studied that "attractive ladies" remark long enough it might turn out to be a compliment.
"I should have told Frank that the sexual angle was hetero adult," Kelly muttered, studying another picture. "This clown is a sadist, a gay hooker, probably a latent, who beats up other gays." He held up the picture for her to see.
Mandy nodded. "I remember him. He would tie up his marks and burn them with cigarettes."
"Let's hope he gets reunited with some of them in prison," Kelly said acidly. "They'll remember him too."
Mandy was quiet, watching his intent expression as he pored over the files. He's very good at this, she thought again. She had been impressed with his ability to sort through details and cut to the chase ever since they started working together. She could see why he had been promoted so fast.
Kelly turned over a picture and studied the next candidate. "James Cameron," he announced to Mandy, displaying the photo.
She nodded. The picture was of a white male in his thirties, not bad looking, but with a sneering smile that gave her a chill as she recalled him.
"Ring a bell?" Kelly asked.
Mandy cleared her throat. "Yes. He was... sinister. He used to spend all his time at the defense table scribbling notes on a yellow legal pad. I wasn’t around him that much. But when I came into court the last time he leaned back in his chair and looked me over from head to toe, grinning ostentatiously, as if he were trying to get me to react to him. When he was convicted he spit on the floor as he passed me. The bailiff held him back or I think he would have jumped over the bench."
Kelly considered her reaction. "You seem to recall him pretty well."
"He was memorable." She looked down at her hands. "I don't know why I didn't think of him until I saw that picture. He should have come to mind right away."
"It's understandable that you would want to forget him," Kelly said. He went back to reading the file and then said, "Wait a minute. Did you ever see this?"
"What is it?"
He got up to hand her an old Xerox that Frank had uncovered in his search. It was a copy of a note on a scrap of lined paper torn raggedly from a pad.
"....hair the color of dried blood," it began, obviously in the middle of a paragraph. The writing was small, neat block printing done in ball point. "I'd like to strangle her with it and shut those staring eyes forever."
Kelly waited for her response.
"He wrote this," Mandy said slowly. "It's about me, isn't it? How did it get into his file?"
Kelly's face was registering alarm. "No one told you about this?" he asked incredulously.
Mandy shook her head.
"Who was your supervisor at the DA's office when you first started there what- three, three and a half years ago?"
"Jamila Shah. She's been gone a while. She moved to Berkeley, California when she got married and she went into international law."
He made a note in the little book he carried. "I'll try to find her there and call her. I want to ask her about this." He was looking grim. "It's a threat, and Shah should have known that. I don't know why anybody in the DA's office would cover this up, Sam Rhinegold would be all over it in a minute."
"Sam wasn't the DA then. Joe Monte was."
Kelly's face changed. "Oh. Monte. That explains it. He would have buried this if it helped to get him a quick conviction. He probably just wanted to shove this Cameron into the joint without any hitches so he could retire to Punta Cana, where he is at this very moment, the piker. He figured he was getting Cameron off the street anyway so what was the difference?"
"But Cameron's out on parole now," Mandy said softly. "And he's coming after me."
"No, he's not," Kelly said, standing. "I have enough to pick him up right now on terroristic threats, both from the notes he's writing today as well as this old one. They constitute a threat and he has a history of hostility toward you. I'll find the current add
ress on him and get a warrant. He'll be in lockup by tonight."
"Are you sure that's enough to hold him?" Mandy asked anxiously. "These guys skate back outside all the time if the judges don't think there's enough evidence. I’ve seen it happen a lot."
"Don't be such a lawyer," Kelly said. "I'm telling you this is more than I need. Just go back to your office and I'll call you. I've got to move on this right away before he does something else."
Kelly got up and went into the hall, already on his cell phone, leaving Mandy sitting alone in his office.
After a few minutes she realized that he wasn't coming back, that she had been forgotten.
Finally she did as he said and went back to her office.
Sooner or later he would call her.
* * * * *
Kelly didn't call. Mandy finished the day at work, having little to do except cleanup since most of her cases had been shifted to other lawyers, and when she got back to her apartment the silence was a rebuke. She checked her cell phone every ten minutes but there were no messages.
Finally at 8PM her doorbell rang, and when she ran to answer it she found Kelly in the hall. He was still wearing his detective mufti from the precinct. His expression indicated that he did not have good news.
"You couldn't hold him," Amanda said. “You picked him up but you couldn’t hold him.”
"It's worse than that. I couldn't find him."
Amanda stood aside to let him enter the hall and then, stunned, she followed Kelly into her living room. He stood with his hands on his hips, staring at the floor, saying nothing.
Amanda took a minute to absorb the import of what he'd told her and then she whispered, "You assured me you'd get a warrant."
"I thought I would," he said dully.
"You told me he'd be in lockup tonight."
“I knew his parole officer would have his current address,” Kelly said.
“But he wasn’t there, was he? He was gone.”
This time Kelly didn't reply, too distressed to speak.
"I trusted you and you lied to me!" Amanda burst out, unable to disguise the betrayal that she felt. She was alone and frightened and she had believed that he would protect her. If Kelly couldn't do it, who could?
He took a step toward her and she snapped, "You told me not to be such a lawyer. Maybe you should try to be a better cop.”
He didn’t reply and it took her a moment to realize what she had said. Then she put her fingers to her mouth and whispered, "I'm so sorry. I’m doing it again. None of this is your fault. You didn’t deserve that.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said huskily.
“Yes, it does. I don’t know why I’m always punishing you about any of this. You've done nothing but try to help me since the moment I met you.”
He lifted one hand toward her but didn’t move any closer.
“I shouldn't have turned on you,” Amanda went on, ashamed of herself. “I'm really… sorry."
“Amanda…”
She looked at him remorsefully. “There’s no excuse for berating you. It’s just that so much time had gone by since the last note that I thought maybe it was over, I was hoping that he had given up or gone away….” She felt her throat tighten. “I feel awful for what I just said.”
“Forget it,” Kelly said tersely. “I don’t know why you’re not screaming. Don’t give it another thought.”
Mandy stared at him. “Seeing what he wrote about me at the time of his trial, knowing that it was all real and the threat wasn’t my imagination, it’s just made me…” She trailed off and then started talking again, softly. “I’m not brave, Kelly. I’m not like you.” She closed her eyes. Before she could open them again his arms came around her tightly and she felt once more the warmth and security of his embrace the night she had danced with him.
Help me, she thought. Only you can help me.
Mandy clung to him shamelessly and they stood wrapped together for several long moments. Once again the top of her head just came to his shoulder. She pressed her face into his shirt front, inhaling the unique scent she had noticed before when she was close to him. Time seemed to stand still and she heard the ticking of the art deco clock on her wall as she made the tactile moments last as long as she could. Then he gently disengaged her and led her to the sofa. She sat as he paced back and forth in front of her, his long legs making short work of her living room rug.
“There are some things I have to tell you because you should know them,” he said. “They won’t be easy to hear but I need you to listen carefully.”
Mandy nodded, wishing that he were still holding her.
“I talked to Jamila Shah on the phone after we came up empty when we tried to arrest Cameron. Jamila remembered that Cameron was always watching you the few times you were court, and I looked up more details in his record. They aren’t good.”
Mandy waited fearfully.
“Cameron is a SWAT team member gone bad, a special weapons and tactics expert who started his criminal career by going AWOL. He was trained by the army, selected for special classes in the deployment of complicated firearms. He’s skilled in the use of deadly force. Do you remember any of this from prosecuting his case?”
“I remember that he had a dishonorable discharge before he was picked up for blowing open a safe.”
“With gelignite. He’s a detonations guy, very dangerous, fueled by a major drug problem, mainly cocaine.”
“And he’s fixated on me,” Mandy said in a small voice. “I don’t know why.”
“I do,” Kelly said simply.
Mandy looked at him inquiringly.
“He thinks you made a fool of him when the state won at his trial. You put him in jail and to him that means you got over on him.”
“I didn’t do it! I was a lowly assistant, it was my first year in the DA’s office. All I did was supply Joe Monte’s second with notes and answers to the questions that came up at trial, the results of research.”
“Cameron saw you, he remembered you.”
“Why?”
“I’m sure you’re the kind of woman he always wanted but could never get,” Kelly said evenly.
Mandy suddenly had a strong feeling that Kelly wasn’t talking just about Cameron.
“What else?” Mandy asked.
“We found his apartment, a hole on 34th street which was abandoned with everything tossed around, left in a mess. Something tipped him off that we were coming after him.”
“What do you do now?”
“We look for him, and I mean we really look for him. I promise you that this will not end well for James Cameron.” His tone was flat and menacing.
“He can hide anywhere,” Mandy said hopelessly.
“Not anywhere. We’re pretty good at locating people.” He came and sat next to Mandy on the sofa. He touched her cheek and she closed her eyes as he ran his thumb over her lower lip.
“I have to go,” he said huskily. “The uniforms are downstairs. You call me if anything happens. And I mean anything.”
Mandy nodded. Her gaze followed him to the door and when he turned back to look at her he said, “I’ll get him, Amanda. I’ll kill him before I let him touch you.”
The door opened and he was gone.
4
Kelly went down the steps to the parking lot of the complex and tapped on the window of the squad car. The two cops inside were kibitzing but snapped to attention when they saw Kelly. The cop on the passenger side rolled down the window and answered Kelly’s questions, declaring that everything had been quiet for hours and nobody suspicious had passed the security gate. Kelly moved on to his jeep and climbed inside of it, putting his head back on the rest and closing his eyes.
He felt like an ass. He had promised something he couldn’t deliver. He could still see the look on Amanda’s face when he’d had to tell her that Cameron had skipped and the police didn’t know where he was.
He sat up again and thought about his hasty exit earli
er. He had lied to her when he said he had to go. The truth was he couldn’t stay with her for one more minute without doing something startlingly intimate and unprofessional, something that would cross the line and change their relationship forever. He had to get out of her place but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her completely, so he was sitting in the parking lot like an ex lover hoping for a reunion. God, he was pathetic. Pretty soon he would be stalking her like that jacked up jitterbug Cameron.
He leaned forward and lit a cigarette, opening his window. He tried not to think about her several floors above him, and how easy it would be to go back inside and take her into the bedroom. She was vulnerable and needy and she would follow his lead. At the moment he didn’t care about his job or her absent fiancé, the physical need to comfort her and claim her for himself was so overwhelming it submerged everything else.
Kelly inhaled deeply, thinking about how his life had changed since he met Amanda. His attitude about her background of privilege and wealth had altered once he got to know her. She was so beautiful and she had everything and he didn't care, he didn’t even resent it any more. In the beginning her supposed status had annoyed him but he had disguised it; now that he was personally involved with her all he cared about was her safety. She was suffering and in jeopardy and he just wanted that to end. But his dilemma was that if they solved her problem and caught the creep who was tormenting her, then his own reason for seeing her was gone. Their connection would be broken, their time together would stop. She would go on to marry Henderson, a showboat politician and a jerk who didn’t appreciate her, and Kelly would ...what? Continue to play basketball on Saturday mornings with a bunch of thirty year old high school kids? Continue to have sex with a succession of pretty girls who would grow less pretty as he grew older? His life was going in a direction he didn’t want. What he wanted was several stories above him, worried and scared and hungry for the comfort he could give.
Amanda's Blue Marine Page 8