Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books)
Page 75
“Your Aunt Tess and I didn’t get along very well. In fact if you remember how she treated me when they visited over the holidays, that’s pretty much how she treated me all the time. I cared for her, but I wasn’t in love with her. I am in love with your Mom.”
“That’s good, because I don’t want you to go away.”
“I ain’t going anywhere, Beeper Girl. Even if your Mom kicks me to the curb, I will always be there for you.”
“She won’t. I won’t let her. Stop calling me Beeper Girl.”
Time to put one other thing on the grill here. “I want you to watch out all the time too, Al. You can FaceTime me any time you want. If something doesn’t seem right, you call me, okay?”
“I will. I’m not supposed to have my iPhone in school, you know?”
Some rules are meant to be broken. “I know you’re responsible enough not to play with it during school. That is the school’s reason for you not having it. You’re allowed to turn it in at the beginning of the day, and pick it up later, but I don’t want you doing that either. I want your i-thingy close by at all times. Many times, adults make decisions that work exactly the opposite of how they intend them.”
“You’ve made me into a criminal, DS.” Al giggled when I gave her my scary face in reply. “If the security guard finds out, I’ll be put in the gray bar hotel.”
One of the young moms I mentioned sidled up next to me as we arrived at the school front. I had laughed at Al’s comment about being taken into custody. She seemed to be interested in striking up a conversation – not a good thing near big ears Beeper Girl.
“You’re John Harding, right?” She smiled up at me while holding the hand of a little boy around Jim’s age. I thought I recognized her from dropping Jim and Kara off at Ms. Abel’s kindergarten class. She held out her hand. “I’m Celia Gomez. My Ricky is in Jim and Kara’s class. Della told me you live on her street.”
I shook her hand carefully as my entourage of kids and grownups went on to their duties, leaving me, Al, and the twins with Celia and Ricky. “Yeah, I’m John. I always drop off Jim and Kara along with my stepdaughter Alice when I don’t have business outside the city. I guess you’re walking the same way. I drop Jim and Kara off right at the classroom door. Ms. Abel knows I’m signed in on all three kids’ adult sheet.”
We continued on with Alice giving me the high sign this would all be regurgitated later for her Mom’s amusement so they could both play the outrage card at my expense. Celia was dressed in skintight black spandex with a pink halter top and no bra, with a light black unbuttoned top. Her black high heels made her walk with us a little noisy. With long black hair tied at her neck inside a pink hair tie, Celia was quite the young mom. Yeah, I had noticed the rather odd mom attire for walking her kindergartner to school, but I’m not in the young mom judging business.
“Are you married, John?”
“I sure am. How about you?” I turned it back on her as we cleared the front entrance, where the security guard, Gus Minsky smiled and nodded at me. Al was listening intently.
“Yes. Ricky’s Dad works days.” Celia hugged little Ricky at the classroom door, straightened and handed me a small note. “If you ever need me for anything, my number’s on the paper. Nice meeting you, John.”
“Nice seeing you, Celia,” I replied politely as she swayed toward the exit.
“I’m tellin’,” Al said immediately as the twins giggled in harmony.
“No, really? I’ll let you tell it. I’m sure it will be more entertaining. Kara… take care of Jim. Jim… take care of Kara.”
“Okay, DS.” Jim saluted, while Al and Kara laughed. The twins ran inside the classroom leaving me with the instigator.
“Good one, Al. I have some great artistic endeavors in mind for your Beeper posters I’m sure you’ll like.”
Al gasped. She pointed her finger up at me. “Touch my Justin and there will be blood!”
A couple of her friends arrived at her side while I was he-hawing over her Montoya like threat. They looked me over with fearful curiosity. Al gave me a final wave and walked off with them. What do you know, an uneventful October morning. My favorite.
Chapter Twelve: School Attack
I started to leave when Ms. Abel scurried out of the classroom to grab my arm. Joan Abel was a middle thirties, auburn haired beauty. She dressed conservatively, but Lora always checked her out suspiciously when she walked the kids to school with me. Today seemed to be my day for interacting with attractive women. Apparently, even a bridge troll has his day.
“Hi, Ms. Abel.”
“Call me Joan. You’re a bodyguard and security guy, right John? I know you do street fighting and I watched your UFC match. I need someone like you. Can I hire you?”
“Slow down a little, Joan.” This is weird, even for me. “I do escort work, skip traces, and some investigative work. Bodyguard work is very difficult to do successfully if the predator is stalking you and knows your habits. Maybe it would be better if you told me a bit about your problem. After class when you-”
Joan did not release me. She looked around with a haunted look I’d seen before. “I have a teaching assistant that is covering for me while I talk to you.”
She let go of me and closed her classroom door, waving at the young assistant who started her class. “His name is Carlos Rodgers. I only dated him three times. He’s nuts! He started showing up here at the school, accusing me of flirting with any male near me. He…he was so nice taking me out dancing and dinner the first night, giving me a quick kiss when he dropped me off back home.” Joan blushed. “I slept with him on the second date. It was so perfect. He took me down to Monterey on a Saturday. We had a nice dinner at the wharf, then a terrific drive back, where we talked about our work and listened to music. I…I invited him in, and we… well… I thought we were soul mates. I’m an idiot. It was awkward, but we barely knew each other. Then on our third date, it got very weird. He stated we shouldn’t see anyone else at dinner. I had cooked for us, but our dinner was rather silent. I…I resisted his advances afterward. It just didn’t feel right. He got mad and raped me. There wasn’t any doubt about it, but I was afraid to report it because I had slept with him. He says if I don’t stay with him, he’ll blow the school up.”
Uh oh. Okay… yeah, I admit I’d been listening halfheartedly to romance gone wrong up until then. I can see in Joan’s face that most of what she had said was no joke. This Carlos guy streaked into my paranoia list immediately. Abel had a track record with me. Carlos did not. I don’t presume guilt, but I do have a tendency to go with the facts presented by someone without an axe to grind. Al attended this school along with the Sparks’ twins. Any threat like what she talked about would have launched me, but the personal connection makes it difficult to think rationally. “Tell me exactly what he said, Joan.”
She took a moment, taking a deep breath, and wiping at her eyes. “He said he was sorry for his behavior, but that we were destined to be together, and he would do anything to make sure that happened. I…I tried reasoning with him, but he wouldn’t listen. He… he raped me again. That’s when I went to the police. They were sympathetic, but they explained the difficulty in prosecuting someone I admittedly slept with voluntarily. It was my word against his about the threats. Carlos has been shadowing me for weeks now. I filed a restraining order, but they have to catch him in the act. He’s going to kill me, John! He really said he would blow up the school to get me!”
“Has he tried to get into your place, or confronted you in public? I have to ask, Joan.”
“No, but he calls me constantly without leaving a message. I shut off my phone back when this happened. Now, I made them change my number, and he still got it somehow. John, I don’t have any place to go. My folks are dead, and I don’t have any siblings. My folks had no siblings. That was one of the things that drew them together. I always thought it was really neat that I always depended on myself. Now, I’m a joke. I see in your face you doubt me.”
“I…I can’t kill someone. I’ve never even fired a gun.”
See, this is where I get left in the no clue zone. Whatever happened to survival instinct, or anger that your life is being torn apart at the whim of some idiot who has already assaulted you? Maybe some reality would be a good thing. “Look, sometimes survival comes down to hard choices. Do you want to survive this?”
Tears leaked out of her eyes and down her cheeks, streaking the makeup I now noticed was covering for some discoloration and swelling. “Not if I have to kill someone.”
Then I hit her with reality. “But it’s okay if someone else does it for you?”
She covered her face with both hands, heartrending sobs muffled with determination. “I’m such a hypocrite!”
Yeah, you are. I’ve been around Lynn Montoya too much lately. That guy would be in pieces somewhere already. I put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Okay, Joan, take it easy. Give me all the particulars on this Rodgers guy. I need to know his address, and phone number if you have it. Have you made Gus aware of this guy, and given him a picture of your stalker?”
“I…I didn’t even think of it. Do you think that’s necessary?”
“If you have the school kids’ safety first in your mind over whatever embarrassment you might feel about telling Gus.”
That got her. To her credit I saw horror as she realized giving Gus the lowdown on the guy should have been her first action, even if it meant having to then meet with her boss about it. Look, I know her reactions were simply a woman, otherwise very capable, getting caught up in a horrid situation, but now the monkey’s on my back. “Let me give this some thought. I’ll brief Gus, and get some pictures distributed. It may be you’ll lose your job or have to take a leave of absence, Joan.”
Her mouth tightened. She nodded, acknowledging what might be a necessity. “I should have thought of the kids first. How will you get a picture of him, I don’t have one. He lives in Berkeley.”
“Wait one.” I called Jafar. I briefed him quickly. “J, I need everything you can get me on this Carlos Rodgers, living in Berkeley. If you come up with a picture, can you send it to my phone?”
“Sure, John. I’ll see if the school has a fax number. I’ll pipe a picture to them for copying if you want to let the principal know about it.”
“That’s perfect. Send anything you get to my phone first though. Then I’ll know to go see the principal.”
“On it.”
I turned to Joan. “If you want to go back to your class, I’ll do some preliminary checks, and call you if I need you in the office.”
After I entered her cell number, she grabbed my hand in both hers.
“Thank you!”
“We’re a ways away from the thank you stage, Joan. I’ll call.”
Joan went back into class. Jafar called moments later. “Rodgers is an alias, John. He’s wanted in Chicago for a suspected killing. He was the main person of interest in a woman’s homicide he had been dating. When I ran his Carlos picture from the fake DMV record he somehow obtained, three other names popped up. His real name is Steven Vergues, and Chicago is where he’s from. No bail money though, because he skipped town the moment the Chicago PD issued a warrant on him three years ago. His hair’s dark now, but light before. The picture’s on your iPhone, John. He works as an investment broker, and real estate agent.”
“Great work, J. I’m heading to the office now. Go ahead and fax the picture.”
“Will do.”
I studied Vergues picture Jafar had sent. Nondescript, dark brown hair, angular unremarkable face, but his eyes told a different story. The best part of this is he’s wanted. That means I can take my two monsters with me, and go pick him up. I head into the school office, only to find out I’m a little late. Vergues is there. He’s interacting with the office secretary, Beth Donaldson, leaning over the counter, and smiling a very endearing smile. Vergues looks up at me as I enter. His smile goes away momentarily. When I ignore him completely and walk to the counter, he seems to relax. I wait behind him with my hands clasped as if waiting for my turn to talk with the secretary.
Vergues is about six feet tall, medium build, and about a hundred and eighty pounds. He’s dressed in a dark gray, pinstriped suit and tie. He turns to study me. I Gronk him with a right to his temple that sends him flying into the wall. I’m on him in a split second, yanking his arms behind his back while the secretary screams bloody murder. Gus comes running in from his post outside the school as I’m making shushing sounds at the secretary. The principal, Deidre Lomax, ran around the counter from her office.
“John!” Gus shouted. “What the hell’s going on.”
“This guy’s wanted for murder in Chicago. He’s been stalking your kindergarten teacher, Ms. Abel, and making threats. Do you have any restraints, Gus?”
“Sure.” Gus pulls out handcuffs from his belt and hands them to me.
I cuff Vergues, and roll him over carefully. He’s snoring slightly, out cold. I search under his coat. He’s wearing a vest, and he’s also packing two colorful Colt .45 caliber automatics in a dual under the arms holster with extra clips. I look up at Principal Lomax.
“Can you get me a few small plastic bags?”
“Mr. Harding,” she said my name as if it were a four letter word. “This is not the place to apprehend dangerous suspects!”
Leave it to her. Forget about my bags and the suspect is a wanted murderer, wearing a vest and dual automatic pistols. I’m the one out of line. The secretary had some common sense and did as I asked. She handed me three now illegal in California plastic shopping bags. I handed them to Gus. “Thank you. Gus, can you hold these open while I put the pistols in them?”
“Glad to.” Gus was no dummy. “He was here to kill people, wasn’t he, John?”
“Luckily, we’ll never know, my friend.” I deposited each pistol into a plastic bag along with the extra clips, using my handkerchief, before emptying out all his pockets into the third bag. I gave him a professional pat down, and I didn’t miss anything. Then I stood up. I took out my FBI ID, and showed it to the very upset Principal Lomax. “This is Steven Vergues, using the alias Carlos Rodgers. I believe he was about to take all of you hostage or kill you outright before murdering Ms. Abel. I’m betting he was trying to have you get Gus in here on a pretense to speak with him about a security concern. Am I right, Ms. Donaldson?”
“Yes. How…how could you know that?”
“Because he wouldn’t have wanted Gus to surprise him and interfere. He had some plan for you two in the office, but he would have taken out Gus the moment he entered the office. I’m guessing, because we won’t ever know. Excuse me.” I called my cop friend, Earl Taylor, who has some knowledge and connection with his partner, Enrique Rodriguez, in keeping Denny and my team in the loop with the locals. They have this particular area of the city when they’re on patrol.
“John? Where you been keeping yourself?”
“In plenty of trouble as usual, Earl. Are you and ‘Rique on duty?”
“Yep, we’re in the squad car now. What’s up?”
I gave him the Reader’s Digest version. He was impressed.
“Give us five minutes. We’ll come in silent unless you think there’s a partner.”
“No partner. We’re in the school office.”
I gesture at my audience. “Please stay calm. Police officers are on their way here now to pick up Vergues. I’m sorry about this unfortunate incident. Your teacher, Ms. Abel, is to be commended. She contacted me when I dropped off my s
tepdaughter. If she hadn’t, God only knows what would have happened.”
“You still should have found some other way to take him outside this school!”
“Are you mental?” Gus ain’t having any of that. “If not for this man, we’d probably all be dead. I suggest you think, Ms. Lomax, before you say anything else. He has the police coming over, and he has FBI credentials.”
“You forget yourself, Gus!” Lomax is pissed, and scared. Yeah, she can imagine all the bad things… now. “I’m just pointing out the ludicrous position this puts me in!”
Gus is getting ready to launch. He’s an ex-cop, and a grandfather. He’s black, and he’s seen people in authority make stupid decisions all his life. It hasn’t changed his ‘do onto others as you would have them do onto you’ creed, but he’s been around the block. Watching anyone over him screw a good ending up, because they almost got blamed when someone acted didn’t sit well with Gus. Lomax is beginning to melt down. He knows when someone is looking for a scapegoat. I intercede, because I know the game too.
“It’s okay, Gus. Everyone in this room knows what kind of crap falls from the media mavens if something bad like this actually happens. We were blessed for a moment in time, where maybe God in heaven didn’t want another incident with dead kids. Let’s be thankful for that.”
Gus clasped my hand. “Amen, brother. Thank you.”
“Thanks for understanding. Lately, I’m not doing well in the communication phase of this job. We were all blessed here in this school today.”
Lomax started to sob. It turned into a very awkward moment with her secretary trying to comfort her. She’s not the victim here, but I know she’s a civilian and she’s upset. Lomax is right in a way. The media would have found a way to make her the scapegoat in some manner. School officials nowadays have to not only do their jobs, but also predict when a crazy shithead like Vergues is going to come in out of the blue for the soul purpose of committing mayhem. As I reacted less than sympathetically, Gus grinned at me.