Spontaneous Combustion

by Bobby Hutchinson

  “Withholding evidence can get you in a lot of trouble. Your wisest move would be to hand it over. What did you find?”

  “Straps. The kind that are used to secure cylinders of Freon.”

  “Straps.” Odom laughed. “Straps can be used for anything.”

  “Not this kind. They’re special.”

  “And where are they now?”

  “Still at the warehouse. I stashed them in a safe place.”

  Odom chewed on that for a few moments, sucking on his cigarette. “When’s your shift over?”

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  “Meet me at the warehouse, four tomorrow afternoon. I’d like to have a look at these straps of yours. And Forester?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “This conversation stays between you and me, understood?”

  “Absolutely.” John opened the car door and slid out. The Olds pulled away, and he took deep, hungry gulps of the fresh, moist evening air. It wasn’t just cigarette smoke that polluted the car’s interior. Odom was rotten through and through, well past his expiry date. And if things went the way John planned, the battalion chief would be off the shelves and in the discard bin very soon. It was a satisfying feeling.

  He hurried back to the hall, and Shannon all but pounced on him the moment he slid through the door leading to Bay One.

  “Do I owe you money on the bet we made?”

  “You sure do.”

  “First time I’ve enjoyed losing a bet.” She whipped out a twenty and handed it over. She did a quick check to see if anyone was around and then turned back to John. “So tell me what went down.”

  He related most of the conversation. “He swallowed the bait. I’m meeting him at the warehouse tomorrow afternoon.”

  “What time?”

  “Four.”

  “I’m coming along.”

  “No, you absolutely are not.” This was exactly what he’d been concerned about. “Joe will be there, acting as backup. If I’m right about this, Odom will set up some kind of ambush, and I don’t want you anywhere near that warehouse, is that clear? You have no training in this sort of thing, and I can’t go in worrying about your safety, because it’ll jeopardize my own.”

  “I can take care of myself. There’s no way you’d have to worry about me.”

  He was familiar with the stubborn look on her face. “You promised me, remember? No second-guessing, no rebellions. That was the deal we made. When the chips are down, my word is the only one that counts. And I’m ordering you to stay the hell away. Got that, O’Shea?”

  Her blue eyes flashed cold fire and her chin took on a stubborn set. He stared her down, but it took a long time, and he could see that it almost killed her. Finally she nodded reluctantly.

  “Okay, John. Have it your way.”

  YOUR WAY, BE DAMNED, Shannon seethed.

  If John thought for one moment that she was going to disappear into the woodwork while he nailed Odom, he was sadly mistaken. She’d thought up the idea to trap the creep, and damned if she was going to stay away for the exciting part. All she had to do was get to the warehouse tomorrow before any of the action started.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  AS SHE JOGGED UP her street the following morning after her shift, Shannon could see that there was definitely action going on at her house. She’d been immersed in plans for the warehouse gig, and at first she didn’t pay attention to the hammering.

  As she got closer, she saw a green pickup truck with a canopy parked in her driveway. A compact looking man wearing a baseball cap had a sawhorse set up in the front yard, and it looked as if he was reconstructing her front steps.

  Cleo and Pepsi lay on the grass a respectful distance away, watching him. Cleo bounded over to greet her, but Pepsi didn’t so much as glance her way.

  “Hi.” Shannon gave the guy a big smile. She didn’t know him, but she’d welcome Jack the Ripper if it meant being able to use her front entrance instead of that ramp in the back.

  “You must be Shannon.” He took a halting step toward her and held out a callused hand for her to shake. She realized who he was an instant before he introduced himself. “I’m Aaron Redmond. Willow’s my mom.”

  “Of course. Glad to meet you, Aaron. I recognize you now from the picture she showed me.” And from the pronounced limp, but that was quickly forgotten when he smiled. He had the kind of open, honest face that shone with goodwill and optimism, and his green eyes had lovely laugh lines radiating from the corners.

  “I drove through to check up on Mom. I got here late last night, so I slept in the truck, but she said maybe you’d let me bunk in that other upstairs bedroom for a couple days if I repaired a few things around here.”

  “Absolutely. Fix my damaged house and the bedroom’s yours as long as you want it.” She hesitated, and then added, “I’d appreciate it if you’d check with me first before you tear anything else out, though. In the house, I mean.” She had learned from Willow. And he was her son.

  He shook his head. “I won’t be doing that. I had a look around and it’ll take me all my time to fix the stuff that Mom showed me.” He gave Shannon a knowing look. “I can see she’s been up to her old tricks again. She means well, but she always bites off more than she can chew.”

  “I know she meant to get around to rebuilding these stairs and doing the other stuff,” Shannon said, anxious to give Willow the benefit of the doubt. “But then she got that job at the clinic.” And got herself seduced by my notorious uncle Donald.

  “Mom’s always been better at knocking things down than putting them back together.”

  Shannon wasn’t going to argue with that. Instead, she said, “I hope Willow told you there’s no bed in that upstairs room.”

  “No problem. I have a chunk of foam and a sleeping bag. I’ll be fine. I hope you don’t mind your dogs keeping me company. We sort of bonded.” He bent and rubbed Pepsi’s ears, and to Shannon’s amazement, didn’t get nipped for his trouble. In fact, Pepsi licked his hand. Shannon frowned at him. Maybe the little louse was sick?

  She made her way around the back and up the ramp, and before the kitchen door closed behind her, she heard the magical sound of Aaron’s hammer starting up again.

  By noon, there were strong, well-built steps leading to the front door, and Aaron was already starting on the back deck. Shannon had been on the phone much of the morning—she wanted to be certain Linda was doing okay. Also, her cover shot and interview in California Woman were getting her a lot of unwanted attention.

  At least the calls took her mind off the warehouse and the meeting scheduled for later that afternoon. As the hours passed, Shannon found herself getting more than a little nervous. John was going to be livid when he found out she’d ignored his direct orders.

  For lunch she threw together egg salad sandwiches and made a pot of coffee, then stuck her head out the door.

  “You want some lunch, Aaron?”

  “Thanks, I sure do.” He came in and took his cap off. His hair was light brown, and she was surprised to see that he already had a few gray hairs at his temples. Up close, he looked older than thirty-eight.

  He asked if he could use the bathroom, and then sat across from her at the table.

  “My steps look fantastic, Aaron. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Glad I could build them for you.” He jerked a thumb toward the cupboards. “We oughta get some Arborite and fix that countertop.” He took a huge bite of his sandwich, chewed and swallowed. “Mom says you work for the fire department?”

  “Yeah, I do. It’s a great job. I really enjoy it.” Although I’ve recently gone into the espionage business, just for variety. She glanced at the clock. Another two and a half hours, and she’d head for the warehouse. She wanted to get there good and early, before anybody else could show up.

  “My dad was a cop. He’s retired now.”

  “Yeah, your mom said.” And Shannon had to be careful not to let her voice reflect the negative way she felt about Ste
ve Redmond, the wife beater. “She also said that you’re a talented artist, Aaron. Do you work in oils or acrylics? Or maybe watercolors? I don’t know much about artists,” she confessed. “My sister-in-law, Linda, is the closest I’ve come to one, and she’s a photographer.”

  “I’m no artist. I do wood carvings for fun, but Mom exaggerates about how good they are. My dad, now, he’s the artist. He picks up bits of scrap, uses old pipes and things, and he makes stuff. It’s called assemblage art.”

  “Your dad?” Willow had never mentioned this. It took Shannon a little adjusting to get her mind around the fact that Redmond the wife beater could also be an artist. But then again, why not?

  “Dad had a show at one of the New York galleries a while ago. He sold quite a bit of stuff and got great reviews. Mom didn’t tell you about that, huh?”

  “No, she didn’t.” More adjustment needed. Now the wife beater was a successful artist.

  Aaron nodded. “That’s why she left this time,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “This time?” Shannon almost choked on her sandwich. “You mean she’s left before?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Aaron nodded and got up to refill their coffee cups. “She takes off every now and then, but she always comes back. Mom sort of needs to be the center of attention. She’s like a little kid that way.”

  Shannon wasn’t understanding any of this. “You—you mean that Willow…that she left—because she was—jealous? Of your father’s success?”

  Maybe Aaron didn’t know his father was abusive. Maybe he just didn’t want to know. After all, there’d been things Shannon hadn’t known about her own mother, either.

  “I wouldn’t say jealous, exactly. The way I see it, Mom just hasn’t ever found her purpose in life. She’s fooled around with all sorts of things, taken classes in everything under the sun. She doesn’t ever narrow in on any one thing, though. I guess she gets frustrated, and then she quits whatever it is and starts something new.”

  Astrology, carpentry, electronics. Shannon remembered all too well the list of things Willow had claimed she’d studied. And she and Lisa both had firsthand evidence that Willow wasn’t nearly as talented as she claimed. Everything Aaron was saying was beginning to make sense in a bizarre sort of way.

  “How…how does your father react to all that? Her taking courses, and then quitting?” Maybe she’d been right about Redmond being relieved Willow was gone.

  Aaron shrugged. “Oh, I guess Dad’s just used to it. It’s been the same ever since I can remember.” But his expression showed clearly his high regard for his father. Pride and affection glowed in his eyes. “He pretty much supports Mom at whatever it is she wants to do.”

  “Wasn’t it hard on you? Her leaving? When you were a kid?” For some reason Shannon was thinking about John and his mother, about guys who took on the responsibility for their parents. She had the feeling this wasn’t the first time Aaron had chased after Willow and repaired things she’d broken.

  “When I was little, it was tough,” Aaron admitted. “I always thought it was because of my leg that she left us. But my dad talked to me about it. He made me see that me being crippled had nothing to do with her going away or coming back, either. He said it was because of Mom’s insecurity. It had nothing to do with me.”

  Lordy. And Willow had subtly used Aaron’s disability for her own purposes, to gain sympathy and support. She’d also hinted that her husband was cruel. And it looked as if none of it was true.

  Shannon’s mind went to her uncle Donald. She knew for a fact that Willow was having sex with him. Did the woman always have affairs when she left her husband and son? It wasn’t something Shannon could ask Aaron, and she felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Donald. This time, she’d bet he wouldn’t be the one who did the dumping.

  But Shannon wanted to be absolutely sure she wasn’t making still another mistaken judgment. “You must have had a pretty turbulent time of it. I’d guess that your dad would have pretty strong reactions to your mom’s behavior?”

  Aaron laughed and shook his head. “Nope, Dad’s not a fighter. He’s not your typical cop, either. Law enforcement was tough for him. He’s a gentle guy, a hippie at heart. I think he only went into law enforcement because Mom wanted him to. All her male relatives are either policemen or firemen. And of course it paid reasonable wages, although he doesn’t much care about material stuff. It’s Mom who likes the good things in life.”

  Shannon detected the slightest undertone of bitterness there.

  “Well, I’ll get back to work, Shannon. Thanks again for the food.” Aaron picked up his plate and carefully rinsed it and his cup in the sink. Then he put his cap on and headed outside again, calling the dogs as he went out the door.

  Stunned at the revelations about Willow, Shannon slumped back in her chair. Lately it seemed as if everyone around her dealt in secrets and lies.

  The phone rang again. It was Mary.

  “I thought you and I could go over to the hospital and visit Linda this afternoon. Sean’s working, so she’ll be alone, and I know how upset she must be about losing the baby. Also, I’ve made a few casseroles and a nice lasagna for them for freezing, and I baked one of those orange cakes Sean loves. We can drop them off at their house.”

  “Mom, I’m sorry, I just can’t do that today.” Shannon rolled her eyes in frustration, hoping Mary wouldn’t ask why—but she did.

  “Why ever not, dear?” She sounded both puzzled and disappointed. “Linda needs family around her.”

  “I—I have this appointment, and I can’t get out of it.” That was as near the truth as she could manage.

  There was a moment of silence that spoke volumes. “All right then, Shannon. I’ll go by myself. What do you want me to tell Linda?”

  “Tell her—tell her I’ll see her tomorrow and I’ll explain everything.”

  Shannon hung up the phone and groaned. Damned if she hadn’t just become a full-fledged member of the secrets and lies club.

  BY THREE, Aaron had the supports up for the back deck and was cutting cedar for the flooring. Shannon changed into a black track suit that was far too warm for the sunny California day and loaded her lightweight backpack with the items she was taking.

  She’d given a lot of thought to what she could use as a weapon if things got out of hand, and she’d decided on a small fire extinguisher. It was portable, it would blast out a stream of chemicals, and most important of all, she knew exactly how to use it. She also had her industrial flashlight and a big bottle of water—it was going to be hot in that warehouse, and she’d have a couple of hours to wait before anyone showed up.

  Aaron saw her leave. He was cutting boards in the shade beside the house.

  “Going for a jog?” He eyed her long-sleeved, hooded top, but he didn’t comment. “I guess you’ll want to take the dogs.”

  “No. Nope, not this time. I’m taking the car. The, uh, jogging path is quite far away. They can stay here with you.”

  Shannon noticed that again Pepsi wasn’t paying any attention to her. Cleo came ambling over, wagging her tail, but Pepsi stayed as close as he could get to Aaron. The guy must have hypnotized the little rat.

  She drove toward the warehouse, parking her car when she was blocks away and jogging the last quarter mile. As she neared the building, Shannon began to get a really bad feeling.

  There was no way of telling whether or not anyone was inside. She’d have to rely on luck, because she had no plausible reason for being there if she got caught. She circled the warehouse until she found the side entrance John had used when he’d brought her and Salvage out.

  It was hot inside. The exterior walls hadn’t suffered much damage, and the holes the firefighters had knocked open in the roof didn’t allow much daylight to penetrate. The interior stank, and it had an eerie, ominous feeling. But maybe that was just her, Shannon told herself.

  She was more than a little nervous about being here. She turned her flashlight on and shivered. Piles of rubbl
e were strewn around haphazardly, and she spent precious moments trying to figure out where John would most likely stage the meeting. After some scouting, she settled on an area close to the spot where she’d found Salvage. She’d first encountered John there, and he’d said it was exactly where he’d found the straps that had been used to secure the heavy cylinders of Freon.

  If she was wrong, she’d hear their voices, figure out where they were, and do her best to move. She fervently hoped she wouldn’t have to; dark as it was, she was more than liable to fall over something and be discovered.

  After some scouting, she found a hiding place behind a massive steel beam and hunkered down. She took her stuff out of her backpack and made certain the extinguisher was close at hand. Her heart was hammering, and now, unfortunately, there was ample time to think about the consequences of what she was doing.

  John was going to be incensed, that was a given. She was breaking her word, and that bothered her. She hated to think of losing his respect. But the promise had been made under duress, she reminded herself. He’d forced it out of her. And realistically, what could he do to her?

  It wasn’t as if they had anything like a future together; he’d gone out of his way to make sure she understood that. And although he’d insisted she promise, had he made her a single promise in return? Not in this lifetime.

  He’d said he was crazy about her, but he hadn’t come anywhere near telling her he loved her. Why did that hurt so damn much? And he hadn’t said a word about any future between them, apart from hinting that he might call her from time to time. Big deal, Forester. I should get breathless because you might phone me once or twice a year? Ha.

  So what if he gave her a tongue-lashing when he found out she hadn’t obeyed his precious instructions? What did she have to lose?

  But even during her brave pep talk, she knew she didn’t relish the thought of having John really angry with her. Her stomach gave a nervous little rumble when she remembered the expression of cold fury on his face after Odom had done his touchy-feely thing with her at the door of the office.