by Lily Robins
Moments passed before Cynthia appeared in his doorway. Rene was repeating, “Your appointment’s not until two, Ms. Ralston,” and Farrell stood in the hallway too, alerted by the woman’s disregard of Rene’s gatekeeping skills.
Roman looked up at Cynthia standing contritely at his door, and was not in any mood to make the scene worse. “It’s okay,” he said to Rene. “We’ll chat for a moment or two while Ms. Ralston’s waiting for Tess. Leave the door open, Rene?”
A chagrined Rene walked back to her desk, Ferrell McLean following behind her. Cynthia took one of the two seats facing Roman’s desk, placing her large handbag on the floor. She said, “That guy’s a policeman, isn’t he?”
“He is,” Roman answered.
“He looks a lot like you, Dr. Roman.”
“A pure coincidence,” Roman dismissively said. “What’s going on with you?”
He wasn’t supposed to prompt a discussion like that, now that Cynthia was seeing Tess Gilliland with her troubles, but Roman lapsed into a bit of apathy, not really caring about ethical rule-bending on this unusual day. Cynthia, he had to admit, looked nicely made up, having tastefully applied make-up without overdoing it, as was sometimes her wont. Her hair was dark brown, most likely salon-enhanced, and she had always dressed in nice clothes, tailored to fit her slender physique. She sat with a small, agreeable smile on her face.
“I’m fine, Dr. Roman,” she said while keeping the smile in place. “Thank you for seeing me. I wanted to see for myself that you’re safe.”
“I’m fine, Cynthia,” he said with a quick grin. “People in this city tend to exaggerate.”
Nodding at that observation, Cynthia said, “They certainly do! When my husband died, some people thought I’d murdered him.”
Roman noticed the calm way in which she said that, as though she’d finally come to grips with the initial reactions of some who had known Cynthia and her husband. He was glad to see the change. The woman had been through a lot since her husband had died from a sudden heart attack.
“I made some mistakes,” she said. “Like screaming at everyone who tried to speak to me.”
“You were severely distraught.”
She nodded, still with a smile and a brighter look in her eyes. “I was.”
“And you became a little paranoid,” he added.
She nodded in agreement again, and focused on something that Roman had on his desk. She said, “You were shot at yesterday.”
The entire city knew it, and Whittler Island was almost totally shut down because of what had happened. “Yes, a…uh…friend and I were walking back up the bluff when it happened.”
Cynthia looked directly at Roman with a whimsical, questioning look on her face. “A female friend?”
Looking directly back at Cynthia, seeing her capricious smile, coupled with the sincere way in which she had asked, Roman decided to be candid with this woman. “Yes,” he said, “a female friend.”
Cynthia’s unwavering smile stayed molded upon her face as she said, “I hope she makes you happy, Dr. Roman.”
“She does that,” he said as Tess appeared in the doorway with her typical smile in place.
CHAPTER 32
Roman looked at the man who had waited a good part of the day to take his place. Farrell McLean was standing eye to eye with him, and had a no-nonsense look on his face. It was finally show time.
“Thank you,” Roman sincerely said, holding out his hand.
McLean shook Roman’s, and said, “Gotta do what we gotta do.”
“You’ve got a vest on?”
McLean showed Roman the imprint of it beneath his shirt. “Gosling got those steaks and fixins’ and said he thought Al Kromer was about to close. The guy’s been patrollin’ the aisles for most of the day, and he’s got that pistol stuck in his pants like he means some kinda business.”
“I guess we can’t be too careful,” Roman commented. “There are some books…actually quite a few of them, at my place. But there are some large ones on the end of my sofa that I’d really like you and Jimmy Gosling to be especially careful with. They aren’t mine and I’d like to return them in the same condition that they were loaned to me.”
“Don’t you worry, Doc. Jimmy and I are gonna pass the time playin’ poker at your kitchen table. Let’s hope somethin’ happens tonight so’s we can all go home. It’s beginnin’ to rain—did you know?”
Roman hadn’t known, and he thought about baseball practice. “Go to the place where I usually park anyway, Farrell. Not far from the bleachers. I’ll meet the kids on the other side of the school.” Roman caught the constable’s eye again. “Be careful—okay? Don’t forget your headgear.”
“Will do, Doc.”
*****
Minutes before then…
The man called Seattle, using his cell to contact the man who had hired him. The man wasn’t any happier to make the call than the man he called was happy to hear from him. But he had missed his target the day before, and he needed to get this job done and fly home.
The man said, “It’s starting to rain here.”
The Seattle man dryly commented, “Don’t tell me that hinders your work.”
The man said, “I didn’t say that. You told me to call before I head out.”
The Seattle man said, “So head out in the rain and get this over with!”
The man snappily replied, “You got it.”
*****
On the phone, Cheryl said, “You, or Jess, didn’t tell me she’s a famous photographer! Have you seen her darkroom? She must have ten very expensive cameras in there. Why hasn’t she said anything about who she really is?!”
“Because she doesn’t want anyone to know,” Roman replied. “She’s working on a new book about Maine, but you’re not to tell anyone about her. Let her be the one to show her work when it’s time.”
“I won’t say anything,” Cheryl said, “but there are photographs she’s taken that are in the upstairs hallway that I’m so impressed with. I want to buy them all!”
“Good, aren’t they?”
“Very good. She captures the spirit—the essence—of whatever she’s photographing.”
“How are you and Eli doing?”
“We’re fine. Once we knew that you took Molly back home, I knew I had to just stay put.”
“It’s raining here.”
“Comin’ this way too,” she said.
“I’m on my way to the dark side of the school to pick up the boys.”
“Be careful. Eli’s going to give you an update.”
Roman heard the handing off of Cheryl’s phone to Eli. “Roman? We’re still checkin,’ but there’s no one in this area by the name of Evan Ferguson. There’s one woman who lives by herself with the last name of Ferguson, but she doesn’t know anyone named Evan. We’ve checked her out, and she’s okay. So I think he gave you an alias and he’s the one we’re waiting for.”
Roman remembered the man’s eyes, how they had looked straight at him, without actually seeing him. He said, “Why’d he come to my office last Friday? To interview me before he pulled the trigger?”
“Beats me,” said Eli. “We’re holdin’ off on alertin’ the Seattle folks until we’re absolutely sure he’s the one. Got to be tied to this Leitner guy. Ballistics came back just as I thought. He used 6.5 caliber rounds in a Winchester semi-automatic rifle.”
“I’ll wait on telling Jess about any Seattle connection, until we know for sure.”
“Rain’s startin’ to fall here.”
“Take care of the two of you, Eli.”
*****
As the rain began peppering down harder, Roman pulled Officer McLean’s vehicle to the side of the school that was farthest from the ballfield and found Aden and Danny standing beneath the overhang with someone in the police force. The boys got in quickly and shut the doors, but Roman rolled down the passenger window to speak to the officer who had been on duty all day.
“Thank you, Officer Neese,” h
e said.
Officer Neese tipped the bill of his hat. “All of you have a good evenin.’”
Both boys waved good-bye to the officer as Roman pulled away in McLean’s small SUV. Danny said, “No practice today. I’m kinda glad. I’ve got an algebra test to study for.”
“Me too,” Aden said. “Mom called and told me that Molly didn’t make it to school today. I’m glad you took her home, Doc. She’s not handling this stuff very well.”
“We’re all doing the best we can right now,” Roman replied.
*****
Patrick had gotten a ride home with his girlfriend and was sitting in the car with her when Roman pulled up in the driveway of the Randall home. Danny said, “Oh, I’m lovin’ ya too, Katelyn, my dear,” making fun of his brother. The boys grabbed their backpacks and hightailed it to the kitchen door.
Roman got out and stood in the rain to wave to the officers who were sitting in a police cruiser in front of the house. They waved back, and he then headed for the door.
Inside the house, he shed his damp coat, hanging it on a peg, and Mona was there to do her happy dance. He smiled at her, and at his mother and, as Jess walked in to the kitchen, he smiled at her too, while allowing his dog to go through her usual routine of welcoming him home. Her entire backend swayed back and forth, with her tail vigorously wagging, and her four legs prancing in delight. Vigorously, he petted her, from the top of her head, down along her back, and then back to her chest. He finally straightened up, and hugged his mother and Jess at the same time.
“That dog’s been waiting to do that all day,” Julia said.
“Has she been out?”
“A little while ago, but she’s housebound.”
“Can I get you something to drink?” Jess asked Julia and him.
He smiled at her and his mother and said, “Let’s have a drink before dinner.”
Julia said, “I’m for that. Make it a double of whatever you’re having.”
CHAPTER 33
He looked into her eyes to see if he could see any sign of infection coming on. They were still as inflamed as the day before, but there were no signs of them worsening. Molly stood beside them with a stolid look, staring down at Jess who was lying on the bed. Roman administered drops of the anti-inflammatory medication and then a small globule of the antibiotic salve to each eye.
“The doctor said that I wouldn’t see much improvement for a couple of days. I think tomorrow will be the magic day,” Jess optimistically said.
Roman looked at Molly to ask, “Did you tell your mom about the plan for all of us to go camping over spring break?”
Molly nodded, unwilling to speak, however, and Jess said, “She did, and we’re absolutely in.” After Roman told them where they’d be going, Baxter State Park, a mountainous region near the Canadian border, Jess said, “We’ll have to read up on it, won’t we, Molly?”
“Yes, you will, and Molly can be the reader, while you be the listener.”
“I like it when you read to me,” Jess said to her daughter.
Molly stood there nodding, appearing to absorb everything that was said, but not contributing any of her thoughts to the conversation. Jess and Roman exchanged looks.
That night, Jess slept with Molly in the guest bedroom, while Roman and Julia each took a twin bed in the boys’ room. In the darkness, Julia quietly commented, “I’m immensely proud of all three of my children, but you and Cheryl have dedicated your lives to helping others, and that’s always been a special source of pride for me—and it was for your father as well.”
“I wouldn’t trade what I try to do for those with troubled minds for anything, Mom. And I know Cheryl feels the same way about what she does. She always wanted to be in law enforcement, and she’s happy,” Roman continued. “It’s how she met Eli, and it’s how she thinks.”
“I’m just frightened for her,” his mother solemnly admitted into the darkness.
“Me too, Mom,” Julia’s oldest admitted. Mona shared her attentive nature by standing between their beds, Roman placing an arm over the dog to be comforted by her discerning presence.
*****
At 6:20 A.M., Cheryl Randall walked out of Jessica Leitner’s house, dressed in a hooded jacket that hid her face. During the early morning hours, the rain had let up, but had left a shroud of fog over the island. Just as she started to open the door of Jess’s Rover, which had been backed into the driveway, a rifle’s shot rang out, disturbing the stillness of the early morning, the bullet knocking her backward as she grasped the handle of the driver’s door, inadvertently opening it partway as she went down.
Just a moment before, Eli had gone out the back door of the Leitner house. Hearing the shot, he ran through a neighbor’s yard and came out onto another neighbor’s property at the top of the hill, above where he figured the shooter was located. Two officers came running from the back of the three-acre wooded lot across the street, while two more officers sprinted up the hill after vacating their unmarked car near the ferry landing. The shooter, realizing that the police had him hemmed in, made a split second decision to give himself up.
“DROP THE GUN!” Eli yelled when he saw part of the shooter’s legs emerge from the thick stand of spruce that bordered the three-acre lot. He saw the shooter take a full step before dropping the rifle he held, and the two officers who had run up the hill with their guns drawn, tackled him to the ground. As soon as the other two officers emerged from the wooded lot with their guns drawn too, one of them carrying a scoped rifle, Eli ran back to the house.
Cheryl was lying on the concrete walk that led to the back door, and Eli fell to the ground where she lay unmoving.
“Cheryl Honey? Please tell me you’re okay!” he yelled to her inert form. She had fallen onto her back with the hood of her jacket and the bullet-proof headwear she wore obscuring her face. Eli managed to pull the hood of the jacket back, and unsnapped the headgear that was still covering part of her face.
“CHERYL!” Eli wailed. He knew that nothing in the world could stop a bullet from being lethal if it managed to find its way to the right spot.
Her eyes fluttered. As though he were handling a newborn baby, Eli gingerly coaxed one hand under her neck and used the other to pull back the headgear. She moaned.
“CHERYL! LOOK AT ME!”
She cracked open her eyes to see her husband’s worried face and a solitary word found its way to her mouth.
“Ear,” she said.
Eli looked closer at the headgear’s side portion and saw the rivulet of scarring that the bullet had made as it had hit the helmet. When he dared to touch that part of the helmet, a piece of it broke off in his hand. Carefully, he tugged the entire headpiece from her head, laid it aside, and saw blood at the top of her ear where the shot had grazed it.
He had been holding his breath and let some of it out as he pulled his wife up and into his arms. Tears were flowing down his face as he held her to him. Cheryl was too stunned to cry, but felt relief begin to course through her when she saw Howard Macy, one of Eli’s tactical officers, give them a thumbs up gesture as he approached.
“We got him Lieu…Cap.”
Eli was trying to stop crying, but couldn’t. Cheryl slowly lifted both of her arms to hold tightly to her husband.
*****
Roman got the call as everyone in the household was assembling for breakfast in the kitchen. A subdued pall had continued to grip the group, but when his phone played a refrain from Louie’s What a Wonderful World and Eli delivered his first words to Roman’s ear, a grin began easing its way across his mouth. Further information made Roman lift an arm, to signal to the family that everyone was okay.
“Where is she?” he asked.
He listened some more, having to struggle to hear as the noise of relief and utterances of joy erupted in the kitchen. “We’re coming,” he shouted into the phone.
After she realized that she had also hurt her back in the fall, Cheryl was transported to the hospital. X-rays rev
ealed that, other than a bad bruise across the mid-section of her back, there appeared to be no damage to her spine. She was up and ready to go as soon as her family arrived. Eli had been with her the entire time, and was still shaken, but he was determined to put up a calm front. Hospital personnel were relieved and so happy that calls began going out to anyone they could think to call.
She hugged everyone in the family, and when she got to Jess, both women had tears rolling down their faces. Jess sobbed out, “I don’t know what to...say, Cheryl. A thank you is so inadequate…”
Quietly, Cheryl said, “Let me buy one of those enlarged photographs in your upstairs hallway.”
“You can have all three of them at no charge,” Jess swiftly said.
“Just one,” Cheryl said. “I don’t want to seem greedy.”
*****
“Who is he?” Roman asked Eli.
“He’s not talkin,’ even though I’m tellin’ him that we’re goin’ to find out who he is very shortly. His cah was parked a mile away, hidden behind an old barn, and it’s a rental. He’s got no ID on him and there’s zilch in the cah.”
“Can I see if he’s the guy who called himself Evan Ferguson?”
“Be my guest,” Eli said as they turned into the small room adjacent to the interrogation room. A one-way mirror was attached to the wall.
Roman walked in and saw the man who said he was Evan Ferguson sitting in a chair, handcuffed to chains that were bolted to the floor. The guy had smears of mud on his face and clothing, but other than that, he looked none the worse for wear, as he sat perfectly still in his chair with his eyes closed.
“It’s him,” Roman said. “I’d really like to know why he came in the office last Friday.”
“Have at it, Bro. Just promise me that you won’t touch the son-of-a-bitch. We’re doin’ everything by the book. I’m placin’ a call to Seattle PD right now!”
Roman watched Eli flip on the video and voice recorder in the observation room and then go into his office. He stood there for another minute, breathing deeply. Todd Maynard, a young corporal on the police force, was guarding the interrogation room door.