by John Foxjohn
Melvin leaned forward with his arms over the seat. “Would you two mind telling me what you’re talking about?”
Morgan turned to face Melvin. “If you want to be a field agent, there’s more involved than dressing up nice. You need to be more observant.”
Melvin, exasperated, held both hand out to his side, palms up. “What did I miss?”
As Morgan shook his head, David told the computer specialist, “Morgan’s right. Whistlam was in her house before us.”
CHAPTER 21
“What?” Melvin blurted out. “You mean we almost walked in on him?”
Morgan nodded. “That’s exactly what we mean.”
“But how do you two know that?”
David closed his eyes. He had a deep, radiating headache. “What did you see in the house?”
Melvin shrugged. “It was very clean.”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “Is that all you saw?”
David rubbed his face with both hands. He needed to work with Melvin. Probably John, too. They had no experience in the field. Didn’t know what to look for. If he didn’t, both of them might walk into the wrong situation. Over the years, working with the bureau as a police officer, he had discovered that the most senior agent’s experience equaled that of a young patrolman. Agents graduated from college with little life experiences, went to the academy, and came out and started to investigate crimes. For the most part, they considered themselves above the lowly cop on the street, knew little, and wouldn’t listen. The only thing they did have going for them was the federal government’s resources.
“First thing you should have noticed,” David said, “just inside the front doorway was a wet pair of sneakers too big for that little old lady.”
“Shit, I missed that,” Morgan said.
David continued. “Ms. Whistlam doesn’t smoke. On the living room table was a pack of Marlboros, and an ashtray with two butts in it. The house was spotless. That means she didn’t have time to clean it up. An empty beer can sat on the same table. Did you see the coffee cups in the kitchen?” Two of them sitting on the counter by the sink. One had pink lipstick on the rim like Ms. Whistlam wore.”
“Okay,” Melvin said. “I missed all of that. Why didn’t we search the house?”
Morgan rolled his eyes and David scratched his head. “We didn’t search for two reasons. First, we didn’t have a search warrant. Second, he wasn’t there.”
“But how do you know he wasn’t in a bedroom or something?”
Morgan rolled his eyes. “If he’d been there, she would’ve tried to nice us, not blast. She didn’t have to worry about us getting suspicious or angry and searching.”
Melvin thought for several minutes without speaking before he responded. “There’s more to this job than I thought.”
David nodded. “My guess, he was there when we first knocked on the door, and hoofed it out the back door. He could have run through that group of woods and we would’ve never seen him. Probably how he arrived in the first place.”
* * * *
The agents sat around the suite with Melissa reading over the diary. David sat away from everyone else, by the window deep in thought. They’d gathered thirty minutes before, and he’d said little. He looked up when he realized Melissa talked to him. He blinked his eyes. “What was that?”
With a frown on her face, she asked, “What’s the Sawyer case?”
David tapped on his lips. He’d kicked that around in his mind. He took a deep breath. “A homicide case in the third ward before the department assigned me to homicide.”
Melissa waited for David to continue, but he didn’t. After a couple of minutes, she asked, “What about the Sawyer case is he referring to?”
David rose, and got a glass of water from the kitchenette. He drank half of it, set the glass in the sink, and rejoined the group. “I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about. I really don’t. It bugs the hell out of me. We were both patrolmen when all that stuff occurred with Sawyer. I wasn’t a homicide detective at the time, and I didn’t even respond to the call.” David rubbed his stubble several times, rose and traipsed to the window, something he did when he needed to think. He stared out at scenery he didn’t see. The other agents continued talking, but David turned from the window and sauntered into the bedroom.
He picked up the phone and called Beth at her best friend’s house. “Hey sexy,” David said when Sheree answered.
“Hey lover,” she responded, which told David Beth was close by. Sheree told Beth the call was for her.
Beth’s hesitant, unsure voice said, “Hello.”
David smiled for the first time all day. Something about his wife’s voice calmed him down and excited him at the same time. He changed his voice to a deep baritone. “Would you like company in bed tonight?”
He heard a sharp breath. “Who is this?”
Almost choking to keep from laughing, David continued with the charade. “A man who wants to ravish your body tonight.”
“In your dreams!” and the phone clicked loud.
David chuckled. Maybe he did that too well.
He dialed the number again and Sheree, laughing, picked up. “I guess we’d better not do that any more,” David said.
“Beth thought you were some pervert.”
“Hell, I am a pervert.”
“Buster—I’m going to beat you when I see you again.” Beth said when she picked up the phone.
David smiled. “Promises, promises, but you might get your chance. I’m heading to Houston in a few minutes. Want company?”
“If you come to Houston and you don’t come here, you’re dead meat.” She laughed. “After I get through with you tonight, you might be dead meat, anyway.”
David couldn’t help the grin that spread all across his face. “I’ll be there in about three hours. Keep it warm, but don’t start without me.”
When he strolled back to the suite, the others stopped talking, confused looks on their faces at the change that came over David.
“What the heck do you have in that other room?” Andy asked.
David smiled and winked. “I’ll never tell. All of you know what to do. I’m taking a quick trip to Houston. Be back tomorrow night or the next day.” He reached into his pants pocket, took the key for the suite off his key ring, and tossed it to Melissa.
After she caught it, she cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. “Is this trip business or pleasure?”
A boyish grin spread across David’s face, causing Morgan to chuckle. “At least we know why he returned in such a good mood.”
The others nodded, except John. After he took a drag off his cigarette, he asked, “What did he do?’
It surprised David he didn’t stutter. Melvin leaned close to John. “I’ll tell you later.”
David stood. “I need to get a few things packed and be on my way. Melissa’s in charge here until I get back.” David looked Andy in the eye. The agent gave David a perceptive nod without anyone else seeing it.
That was one of the reasons David liked the interrogator. He knew without words that David wanted him to watch over Melissa. David sure couldn’t say it in front of his second in command. She’d shoot something off he didn’t want to lose. David chuckled to himself. Heck, if she shot it off, at least she’d put ice on the missing part.
* * * *
Two hours and forty-five minutes later, David pulled into Sheree’s driveway. As he parked and got out, the front door slammed open and Beth ran to him. They embraced for a long time, with David telling her how much he missed her. After a time, Beth disengaged, caught his hand and dragged him to the house.
“Where’s Sheree?”
With a devilish grin, Beth asked, “Who is Sheree? And who cares?”
Beth opened the door without releasing David’s hand. He shut it, as she continued to pull him, but he didn’t resist much. They made their way to the rear bedroom, and Beth closed the door behind them, and pushed David onto the bed.
He
lay back as she began a slow, tantalizing strip. At last, she stood before him—his gaze devoured her body, his mouth almost watering. They held each other close, their hot bodies heating each other, their tongues probing each other’s mouth.
A long time later, Beth lay close to David, her head lying on his shoulder while he stroked her hair.
“David.”
He kissed her head. “Yes.”
“Do you love Melissa?”
David blinked and jerked up. “What?”
“I asked if you loved Melissa.” Beth pushed him back on the bed, and lay beside him again, her heart beating at a normal rate.
“Why’d you ask me a thing like that?”
“There you go again answering a question with a question.”
David didn’t say anything for a long time. How should he answer a question like that? More important, why had she asked it? Did she think he slept with Melissa? Questions flooded his mind. He’d made up his mind that he would always be honest with Beth. He also believed she would want him to. He took a breath. “Yes, I love Melissa. Not love as in intimacy. More as a sister. Beth—I’d never…”
She put her fingertips on his lips. “I know you wouldn’t. Did you know she’s in love with you?”
His eyes popped open. “Get out of here. She ain’t.”
“Darling, she is, and not as a brother. You men can’t see these kinds of things. Trust me in this.”
David scratched his head with his free hand. Was Beth right about that? She was perceptive, herself. It had never occurred to him that Melissa might love him that way. He’d believed they respected each other. She was grateful for the opportunity he’d given her. She’d told him this several times, but love had never entered into the equation.
They’d almost gone to bed together several months before when he and Beth had broken up, but they’d talked that through and other things as well. Melissa had never given him any indication she was in love with him.
David sat on the side of the bed and took a deep breath. “Okay. What should I do about it?”
Beth pulled him back on the bed and ran her hand through his chest hair. Her fingers left an erotic sensation as they traced downward. “Nothing except make love to me again.”
A while later, bathed in perspiration, they held each other when someone banged on the door. David and Beth glanced at each other and shrugged. When they had the covers pulled over them, Beth called, “Come in.”
Sheree opened the door, staring at them with her hands on her hips. “Now that you two have come up for air, do me a favor. If you have to keep on tonight, get on the floor. I’m by myself and those bedsprings are driving me crazy. Either that, or I’m joining you.”
David perked up. “Joining us.”
He winced when Beth hit him in the ribs.
* * * *
Melissa stood before the four agents sitting here in David’s motel suite. Andy had told them a joke, and when the laughter died down, she faced Morgan. “How sure were you that Whistlam was at his mother’s before y’all got there?’
“Pretty darn sure. So was David.”
Melvin nodded. “David was certain?”
Andy fanned smoke out of his face and moved away from John. “Why’re you asking about Whistlam’s mother?”
Melissa looked at each agent. “Put yourself in Whistlam’s place. He doesn’t have any money that we know of. He doesn’t have too many places to stay. His picture is all over the TV. There’s a ten thousand dollar reward out on him. He has to be careful where he goes and who he sees. With that kind of a reward, he won’t trust the kind of friends he has. With all that, where would you go to?”
“I—’d go to my m—mother’s,” John said.
“I would, too,” Melvin said.
Melissa looked at Andy for a moment. “What do you think?”
Andy covered his mouth and rubbed it, frowning. “The one person he knows he can trust is his mother. I bet he’s spending most of his time there. Besides, he won’t believe we will be back. ”
Morgan stood and stretched his back. “You have something in mind. What is it?”
Melissa folded her arms. “We’re going after Whistlam.”
“How?” Melvin asked.
“I’ve been thinking about this. We can stake out her trailer until he shows up.”
Morgan paced for a few moments then stopped, taking a deep breath. “Is that a good idea?”
Andy turned to face Morgan. “She’s in charge.”
Melissa frowned at Andy and shook her head.
Morgan held his hands up, palms toward them. “Listen. I am not questioning Melissa’s authority. I understand and accept the fact she is in charge. I am attempting to bring out a discussion about this before anything is decided.”
Melissa nodded and smiled. “Okay. That’s fair enough. What does everyone think?”
John stood, got a coke and sat. In a slow, steady voice he said, “Let’s do it.”
Melvin nodded.
“Andy. What do you think?”
He stood and looked out the window for a long moment, and answered without turning. “Whistlam is armed and you better bet he’s dangerous. If we do this stake out, there is a good chance we’ll run into him. If we run into him, someone’s going to die. Like I told Morgan, you’re in charge and I’ll do what you say, but I don’t want that someone to be in this room. And there’s a real good chance that could happen.” His gaze swept to Melvin and John.
Melissa understood that he was telling her she had inexperienced agents who had never done this before. Sitting in a classroom wasn’t the same as seeing the elephant, as David called it. She adjusted her hair. “Morgan?”
“First. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded a while ago.”
Melissa nodded. She didn’t know what happened between Morgan and David, but whatever it was, he seemed like a changed person. She believed him.
“I agree with everything Andy said. If you tell me to, I will. But this bastard is dangerous. He’s killed two deputy sheriffs and if caught, he is headed to the electric chair. We won’t take him easily.”
Melissa paced around the room. Andy and Morgan were right. Whistlam would go down shooting if he had that chance and someone on this team might die as a result. If she went ahead with this and one of the team died, she’d be responsible.
Even if they killed Whistlam, she might be in trouble. He was the only link to the others and they may not come up with any more evidence without him. She’d wanted to lead people, but hadn’t realized how her decisions might affect the lives of others. How did David always seem so sure of himself when he made these kinds of decisions? He never hesitated. What would he do if he was here? Should she call and check with him before she did anything?
Would he tell her to wait for him? Not take the chance? She closed her eyes, thinking about the things that he’d told her—a leader takes initiative and responsibility.
Would David call Beeker and ask what he should do? She knew he wouldn’t. At last, she turned and faced the agents. “I appreciate what you said. All of you. Whistlam has killed two we know of, but he also attempted to blow up a ten-year-old boy. The longer he stays on the street, the more likely he is to kill someone else. We’re going after him.”
CHAPTER 22
When David woke, he rolled close to Beth. He found her eyes looking into his. “How long have you been awake?”
She kissed him. “A while. Enjoyed looking at your face while you slept.”
“That couldn’t’ve been too much of a joy.” He reached out and brought her into his arms. “It feels good to be close to you.”
Beth smiled and kind of purred as she snuggled closer. After a long while of holding each other, talking, David disengaged from the embrace. “Lot to do today.”
Showered and shaved, he dressed in his grey Armani and met Beth in the kitchen where a large steaming cup of coffee awaited him.
Sheree came in and hit him on the shoulder.
“Hey. What was that for?”
She put on her best angry face. “You have totally corrupted my friend.”
David laughed. “I’d have corrupted her some more if you hadn’t knocked on the damn door.”
Beth smiled and watched the playful banter between the two.
Sheree put her hands on her hips. “Look at the big man brag.”
In his best Walter Brennan impression, David said, “No brag, ma’am, just fact.”
At ten thirty, David strode up the steps of downtown police headquarters. He’d made this trip many times in the past, but this time was different. Before he carried a Houston Police Department badge, now he didn’t. He was an outsider.
He identified himself to the guard, who waved him through. With his chest tight, he punched the button for the fourth floor.
Striding down the hallway, he found the clear glass door with large black letters that said, “Assistant Chief of Police William Patterson.” David hesitated and took a deep breath. He wanted to go in. He wanted to see the chief in the worst way, but old memories, old wounds, and the guilt over old friends wouldn’t let him open the door. He dropped his head and closed his eyes.
Footsteps buffeted the carpet behind David, and a uniformed officer stopped with his head tilted to the side. “Can I help you?”
“Nope. Going to see the chief.” David opened the door and stepped in. The officer watched him as he entered.
Sitting behind a desk, a football-player-sized woman with black hair glanced up from her typewriter. “May I help you?”
David smiled, but she didn’t return it. “I’d like to see Assistant Chief Patterson.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you have an appointment?” She said it like she knew good and well David didn’t.
“Ma’am—I don’t have an appointment, but I think if you tell the chief who I am, he’ll see me.”
She stood and put hands the size of dinner plates on her hips. “Think you’re special, do you? The chief is busy, so beat it.”
David scratched his head. He couldn’t fight her. She’ll whoop his butt, and he sure couldn’t shoot her. He didn’t think his .45 would knock her down.