by Gary Ruffin
34
BACK IN THE OFFICE, PENNY THOUGHT THAT MAYBE THE TABLOID pictures would turn out to be no big deal. Then the calls of sympathy started coming in from all her “friends.”
Mrs. Norberg called and said that it was a such shame that Chief Cooper had moved on without her, but it was best that Penny find out now what kind of a man he was, rather than later. The gall of the woman amused Penny, because Mrs. Norberg’s husband had been cheating on her for over twenty years, and everybody in town knew it, including Mrs. Norberg. Being given advice on relationships by the town’s relationship laughingstock was the height of irony, Penny thought. She thanked the fiftysomething woman for her concern, and hung up in the middle of Mrs. Norberg’s blathering.
Angie Coletti of Angie’s House of Beauty chimed in a few minutes later with a message from all the girls who were under a dryer, getting a cut, or waiting for their color to take effect: “You’re better off without him.” Penny thanked her, and told her to pass along her deepest thanks to the girls, who had been kind enough to take time from their busy schedules to worry about Penny and her love life. It just meant so much to her, they had no idea. Penny was reminded of the old proverb that if your ears are burning, people are talking about you. She now knew it wasn’t true, because if it were, her ears would have burst into flames the moment the tabloid reached the women at the beauty shop.
Althea Silbey, a waitress at the Colonnade Restaurant who had just been through a nasty divorce, called to say that all men are scum, and that being alone was the greatest gift she’d received in years. Penny agreed, thanked her, and told her she had to take an emergency call, since Althea had started to cry. Penny hung up just as the dam ruptured.
DeWayne Berry, a mechanic at the town’s only gas station, came by on his lunch break to make sure Penny was all right. Ten minutes after he left, she was still cleaning the grease and oil off the chair in which DeWayne had parked his ample rear end.
Over the years, DeWayne had tried at least thirty times to get Penny to go out on a date with him when she and Coop were apart. The only reason she never took him up on his offers was that he was the smelliest, grossest, fattest, and yes, the least attractive man in Gulf Front. Not to mention, he chewed tobacco. Not to mention, he was a racist pig. Not to mention, he spent time in prison for passing bad checks. Penny thanked him for his concern, and was able to get him to leave without actually having to touch him.
Josie Cutler, the town slut, called to say that men were like buses, and another one would be along soon. She also asked would Penny mind if she (Josie) called Coop when he finally got back? Penny stifled a laugh, recalling things Coop had said about Josie’s character and lifestyle. Penny listened for a moment and then said that Josie was a free woman in a free country, and whatever would be, would be. The song “Que Sera, Sera” came into Penny’s head and stayed there for quite a while after she hung up with Josie.
The phone rang yet again, and she picked it up to find her mother on the other end. Penny told her mom about the calls she had received, and Mrs. Prevost told her daughter that the tabloid was good for nothing except wrapping fish, and to call home if Penny wanted her father to come over to Gulf Front and punch anybody in the mouth. They both laughed, Penny said to give Daddy a big kiss, and they hung up.
There were several other calls meant to help Penny come to grips with the fact that it was over between her and Coop, and good riddance to bad rubbish. The only call that actually made her feel better was from Coop’s elderly landlady, Mrs. Wiley. She said that anybody with half a brain knew that Coop and Penny were made for each other, and that the tabloid picture could have easily been doctored to make it look like they were kissing. Mrs. Wiley wasn’t even sure if the man in the picture was actually Coop. It might be his head on another man’s body, you know.
She also said that Penny should talk to Coop before letting it upset her, and asked if Penny would like to come over and have supper with her after work. Penny thanked her for her kind words and the offer, but politely declined, saying that she already had plans for the evening. That wasn’t true; she just wanted to be alone after the events of the day. Mrs. Wiley said to forget about all the busybodies in town, and to call if she needed anything.
When they hung up, Penny smiled at the old lady’s kindness and wisdom, and told Doreen to hold all her calls unless they were actually police business.
Then she sat back in Coop’s chair, put her feet up on his desk, and watched the clock slowly tick off the seconds.
By 3:45, she’d had enough, told Doreen she was going on patrol, and headed out to Coop’s patrol car.
She spent the rest of the day driving back and forth on the old highway that runs parallel to the town, lost in her thoughts.
35
I SAID, “CHERRY, YOU ARE MOST DEFINITELY NOT CURSED. IN FACT, you’re about the most un-cursed person I know. Now, this is just a small setback on the highway to happiness, and I’ll have us back on the road in no time.”
“Highway to happiness?” she asked with a grin. “That sounds really good to me right about now. What can I do to help?”
“Just sit there and look beautiful. Actually, you might wanna get outta the car. It may get warm in here.”
“I believe you’re right,” she said, and we both got out of the Lexus. First, I pulled off the running suit pants, revealing the khaki shorts I wore under them. Tossing the pants in the backseat, I opened the trunk and got out the small replacement tire. Cherry walked over to a grassy knoll by the road and sat down.
I said, looking at the crappy little tire, “We’re gonna have to double back a little, and go into Montgomery. I refuse to drive Cherry Page into my town on one of these punk tires. We can get some lunch while we’re there, too. Pick up a drive-thru burger, or somethin’. I don’t want anyone to spot you and alert the media.”
“Don’t get another tire on my account, Cooper. And I don’t need to eat again anytime soon. Besides, if we double back, won’t that make us awfully late?”
“We’re already late, and it’s not just because of you that I want to get another tire. I really can’t stand these things. Not to mention, I’m hungry, and I was gonna stop and eat anyway. Just relax as best you can. We’ll be back on the road to Gulf before you know it.”
She smiled, saluted, and said, “Yes, sir, Chief Cooper, sir.”
“You’re dang straight, ‘yes, sir,’” I said, and got down to business changing the tire.
Fifteen minutes or so later, we were on the highway heading to Montgomery. Cherry put on my Braves cap and her sunglasses, and piled her hair under the cap. As soon as we reached an area that had a convenience store, I stopped and found a tire place in the phone book. An hour and ten minutes later, we were headed south again with the new tire in place.
I found a McDonald’s, and we went through the drive-thru without her being spotted, and left with a sack full of burgers, fries, and Cokes.
The ride through southeast Alabama was nice, and we talked when we felt like it, and listened to the radio when we didn’t. It was a very enjoyable experience, even considering the flat tire and backtracking we had to do. I did a quick mental projection, and figured we’d hit Gulf Front right about sundown, or a little after.
I shared the information with Cherry, and she said, “Well, I don’t know about you, Cooper, but I’m well chuffed with that bit of news.”
“Uh, okay. I feel a little chuffed myself,” I said.
And I’m pretty sure I was.
36
GUINNESS CALLED AN EARLY END TO THE REHEARSAL AT 3:30, AND EVERYone said their good-byes. Everyone, that is, except Bev, Justin, Will, and Lyndon-Bowen.
It was time to implement the next stage of the plan, which meant that Will had more work to do on the impostors. He dressed Justin in a maintenance worker’s uniform that he had borrowed from the Ritz, and made up Bev with some body padding and a short, dark wig. The two of them walked out with Will to his SUV without a single member of the
press giving them more than a casual once-over.
Lawrence waited until they were safely away, and then went out to address the media. The cameras started flashing and recording, the questions came in bunches, and he raised his hands to quiet the crowd. All eyes, ears, and cameras were on him as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have a brief statement, and then I shall take questions for five minutes or so. I’m afraid I have a confession to make. Cherry Page and her bodyguard have gone missing.”
That got a collective gasp from the crowd, and the questions flew immediately, drowning out Lyndon-Bowen’s attempts to speak. He was able to keep from smiling, and to maintain a look of concern, all the while enjoying the firestorm he was creating. If this was any indication of the interest that his words held for these people, his intuition was spot-on, he thought.
Raising his arms again, he was able to get them to quiet down, and he continued his tale.
“First of all, let me say, there is no evidence of foul play of any kind.”
Again, the crowd erupted, and he basked in the glow of their white-hot efforts to get his attention. The cameras saw a man who was clearly distraught, and fighting valiantly to keep from showing his emotions regarding the situation. Lyndon-Bowen saw dollar signs and box-office records being broken.
He waited for them to stop bellowing, and then said, “The couple you saw arrive in Cherry’s car this morning were actors hired to do nothing more than mislead you, and for that I am deeply sorry. I just didn’t know what else to do when I heard that Cherry had—had—well, disappeared, and I made a bad job of it by deceiving you good people of the press, and for that I sincerely apologize. At this time, I shall be happy to answer any questions that you may have.”
Instant pandemonium, as everyone began to try and shout his or her question louder than the next person.
Lyndon-Bowen said, “Please, please, one at a time. You there, the pretty blonde with the ‘five’ on your microphone.”
“Denise Brooks, Fox Five news. Has Ms. Page ever left a movie set without telling anyone where she was going?”
“To my knowledge, this is the first time anything like this has ever occurred. Cherry Page is known for her consummate professionalism. But under these rather extraordinary circumstances, well, I can easily see why she might feel the need to jump ship, as it were. Next question? You, the gentleman with CNN.”
“You stated earlier that there is no evidence of foul play. Do you have any idea as to where she might have gone, and have the authorities been notified?”
Lawrence lied, “We have our own people checking the airports in the area for any activity, and yes, the proper authorities have been notified. My guess would be that she’s headed home to England, but that’s only speculation on my part.”
For the next twenty minutes, Lyndon-Bowen answered all manner of questions, lying through his capped teeth, and enjoying every second of his time in the spotlight. Playing the media crowd like a fiddle was something he had never experienced, and he didn’t want it to end. He felt as if he could go on for hours, but he called a halt when the questions became absurd.
All in all, it felt wonderful to be the one on whom all the attention was focused for a change, and he lapped it up like the double cream he always poured on his strawberries.
An idea hit him as he was turning to walk away. He now had a name for the stalker and another way to stir the pot. He turned back to the microphones and asked for their attention one more time.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have one additional thing to say before I go.
“Stonestreet Studios is prepared to pay a five-hundred-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to the capture of the ‘Computer Killer.’”
37
THE SUN HAD JUST GONE DOWN WHEN PENNY ARRIVED AT THE BEACH cottage after driving out on the highway all afternoon and into the early evening to avoid everyone. She went inside, took off her uniform and slipped into her favorite cutoffs and one of Coop’s old Florida State tee shirts. She let down her long black hair, and brushed it out in front of the bathroom mirror.
Deciding that a salad would be perfect for supper, she went into the kitchen, raided the refrigerator, and laid the ingredients out on the butcher-block island in the middle of the small room. She was chopping carrots for the salad with her big chef’s knife when she heard a knock at the front door.
Putting down the knife, she wiped her hands on a dish towel and walked towards the door. She couldn’t see anyone through the leaded glass, so she turned on the porch light and opened the door. Still seeing no one, she pushed the screen door open, and stepped out onto the porch.
A searing pain jolted her exposed left thigh, and she was on her back on the porch instantly, flopping around uncontrollably. A blow to the head left her unconscious, but still twitching. Her ankles were duct-taped together long before the spasms stopped.
When she came back to consciousness, Penny found herself on her back on the living-room floor, unable to move, due to the fact that she had been taped up like a mummy from her ankles to her waist, her wrists taped to her hips. She couldn’t see or speak, since tape also covered her mouth and some kind of blindfold covered her eyes. She felt lucky when she realized that the taping stopped at her waist, because it would have been impossible to get duct tape out of her hair without cutting it. And Coop loved her long hair.
Then she thought, why am I thinking about my hair at a time like this? She had no idea how much time had passed since that attack, and couldn’t tell if the lights were on, but she could hear someone moving about the small cottage. She listened to see if anyone else came in, but heard only a single set of footsteps walking into the kitchen, and then back to the living room. Then she heard the footsteps move towards the small corner table in the living room.
Her computer table.
Her thigh burning from what she was certain was a stun gun, Penny tried to relax as best she could and let her head clear as whoever was in the cottage sat in the chair in front of the computer and turned it on. Penny heard the familiar hum as her PC booted, and within another few minutes heard the tapping sound of the keyboard.
Still in a fog, she thought: why would someone want to attack her and then use her computer? What kind of nut—?
Penny froze as the realization of who was inside the cottage hit her. Only one person that she knew of could be in her house acting that way. She began to mentally calculate how many minutes she had left. The sound of the keyboard was all she could hear, and she realized that each tap brought her closer to the end of her life. Then she thought of how terrible Coop was going to feel when he heard what had happened.
She wished she could take back every last mean thing she had ever said, and tell him just one more time how much she loved him. The last memory on Earth that she would have of him would be that stupid picture on the cover of the tabloid.
Too weak to struggle, she was afraid she would lose consciousness again at any moment, and the fogginess in her head was increasing with each passing minute.
A tear formed in her right eye behind the blindfold, and trickled out from under it. She decided to play possum and hope for the best. The killer had to know that she couldn’t make an identification, so maybe she could survive.
“Maybe” was all she had left to hold on to, and her grip was slipping away with each and every tap of the keys.
Suddenly, the tapping stopped. She heard the chair squeak as the intruder stood, then heard footsteps coming towards her. Just as the killer came within a few feet of her, she heard the sound of the footsteps quicken, and run out the door and down the steps, headed for the beach.
38
IT WAS BARELY DARK WHEN CHERRY AND I REACHED GULF FRONT, AND I turned on the headlights. Even though I wanted to give her a quick tour, it was actually better that the sun was down because if it had been earlier, someone might have recognized me.
In no time, we were past the city limits and turning off the road o
n to Penny’s driveway. I pulled into the parking area, and turned off the Lexus.
I waited until the headlights went off, then turned to Cherry, and said, “Well, here we are. Penny’s cottage by the sea. Whatta ya think?”
“Oh, Cooper, it’s just lovely! I simply love the sea air. It’s such a tonic for whatever ails you.”
“Yes, it surely is.” Looking at the cottage, I said, “Hmmm, both cars are here, but there aren’t any lights on. Maybe she’s walkin’ on the beach. She does that sometimes after work. Oh well, it doesn’t matter, I know where she keeps the key.”
“Don’t you have a key of your own?” Cherry asked.
Smiling, I said, “We’ve had to take them back, and give them back so many times over the years, we finally decided to just keep our own keys to ourselves. I know where she keeps her spare, and she knows where I keep mine. C’mon, let’s go see if she’s inside.”
We got out and walked around the side of the cottage to what we refer to as the front porch, which is really the back porch, but since it faces the ocean we call it the front porch.
When we walked up the side steps onto the wide porch, the porch light wasn’t on, but the moonlight was bright enough to see that the screen door was wide open, as well as the front door. No lights were on inside, either. Knowing Penny wouldn’t leave the cottage that way, the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I motioned to Cherry to be quiet, and stay still. She did, and I hurried back to the car. I got my Glock from under the seat and crept towards the front door as quietly as I could, the waves and the wind chimes the only sounds.
As I moved towards the open door and looked inside, I saw Penny on the floor, and my heart sank. I silently moved inside, my gun out in front, and looked around in the darkness. The only light came from the computer screen in the corner. It took a few seconds before I realized what that meant.