Jim rooted around in the hall closet for his protective gear and slipped into it. “I’m going to hoof it. I have some cleats in my trunk. You just strap them over your boots, and they dig into the ice. I shouldn’t be too long.” He looked down at his watch. “If I’m not back by three-thirty, send out the cavalry.”
John’s eyes popped wide. “God, I hope that was a joke!”
“It was. Relax. Do you want Beth to see how wired up you are? While I’m gone, start thinking about what you’re going to do with all those leftovers for tonight’s dinner.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay. Be careful.” The minute Jim was out the door, John locked it and shot the dead bolt home. He felt better the moment he heard the solid thunk that locked Beth and himself indoors. Safe was the only word that came to his mind.
Just who the hell was that guy who was reducing them all to this fear? Somewhere, he’d heard the expression “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself.” A crock if he ever heard one. He put on his game face and walked out to the kitchen. He shouted for Beth to come help him. She appeared in the doorway shouting, “What? What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. I called you out here so we can decide what we’re making for dinner with all these leftovers. Jim bundled up and is out there checking on things. Enough, Beth. You’re safe. I’m here. Jim will be back shortly.”
“Easy for you to say, John. But I think you need to give some thought to that screwball taking you out because you’re standing in his way. He might be delusional about him and me as a couple, but he sees you as a threat. You need to think about that. You also need to park the Jeep inside the garage. He might get it into his head to monkey around with it during the night. If he’s watching, he knows Giz isn’t here. Think about it. How would we know if he was out there in the driveway screwing around with our vehicle? We’re either listening to music or watching television and talking in between.”
“You have a point, Beth. I’ll move the car right now and come back in through the garage, so lock up after I go out.”
John was back within minutes, shivering and stomping his feet. “It is really cold out there. Okay, love of my life, we are buttoned down and as safe as we can be. About dinner . . .”
“Look, what’s up suddenly with all this dinner stuff? We’re warming up the leftovers. Period. End of story. What? You think I can magically create some kind of gourmet dinner with everything that’s left! Well, I can’t. So we warm it up or we eat scrambled eggs again.”
“Warmed up is good,” John said cheerfully. Maybe a Valium or Xanax wasn’t out of the question after all. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Beth this antsy.
“I haven’t heard from Moose,” Beth blurted.
Aha. “Well, that works two ways, Beth. Why don’t you call Moose. I seriously doubt he’s out and about in that bucket of bolts he drives around in, particularly in this weather. He’s probably sitting there waiting for Jake or you to call him. Go on, call him, and put your mind at ease. While you’re doing that, I’ll be in the living room watching for Jim. I’ll build up the fire in the den first. Make us some coffee, okay, honey?” Beth nodded as she fiddled with her cell phone.
John could feel the tightness between his shoulder blades. He likened it to going out on patrol when he was in the marines. He hated the feeling because walking or running into the unknown prepared or unprepared was a scary feeling. He peered through the front window, wishing Beth had installed blinds of some kind, but she liked sunshine pouring in through the windows. She never worried about anyone’s peering in because she basically lived in the back of the house and not the living room, which was, as she put it, for company.
There was no sign of Jim Mack. Where was he?
As though he could read John’s thoughts, Jim pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called John. “I’m making a second go-round. Something is bothering me about the house at Four-thirty-four Laurel Court. It’s a sprawling brick ranch. Do you know it?”
“Yeah. Don and Sally English. Don got transferred to Silicon Valley. The house has been for sale for about six months. A tad overpriced in my opinion. Sally and Beth are good friends. I met the Englishes through Beth. Why?”
“I thought I saw a shadow pass the window. It’s probably my imagination, and it is hard to see in this weather. The place looks deserted. The other two empty houses are a wash. It’s just this one that has my nerve endings going bonkers. It’s a gut thing.”
“Yeah, well, I am still alive because of my gut instincts,” John said sharply. “What’s your game plan, and why did you zero in on this house and cancel out the other two?”
“The main reason is the location of the English house. From the front window, if the guy has some good binoculars, he has a clear shot at your front door. The other two have hindrances. One has a big oak tree in the front yard that pretty much destroys any kind of view, and the other is around the corner, and no matter which window you would be at, you wouldn’t be able to see anything other than the top of your chimney. Ergo, the English house. I really think he’s in there.”
“Okay, what next? Do we call the cops to come check it out? You planning on going up and knocking on the door? What?”
“I don’t know. I need to think. We don’t want to tip our hand. If I call the cops, it will take them hours to get here, and it is not an emergency. I imagine they have their hands full with all kinds of calls that are serious as opposed to something like this. If I knock on the door, and he can see from some vantage point inside, he will almost certainly recognize me. I’m coming back. I’m passing the house right now. Can’t see much. See you in a few.”
John swallowed hard. If Mack thought Luke Olsen was in the empty house, then he probably was. Bastard. Tell Beth? Not tell Beth? He shrugged. Better to leave it up to Mack. He walked into the den, where Beth, cell phone to her ear, was multitasking. She had a small card table set up near the fire with a carafe of coffee and a plate of pumpkin spice cookies that no one had eaten yesterday. She held her finger up to show she’d be off the phone in seconds.
A minute later, Beth broke the connection and jammed the phone into the pocket of her sweatpants. “Moose sounds so jittery. Kind of like me, I guess. Well, here is the news. All the tests are a go. And the reason Jake is in such good shape is he never slacked on his daily therapy. He’s in great shape. Dr. Frey scheduled Jake for surgery tomorrow. They admitted Jake an hour or so ago. Surgery is at seven o’clock tomorrow morning. Dr. Frey is staying overnight at the hospital. Moose said Jake didn’t put up any kind of argument. He’s good with it, or so he says. He said he just got off the phone with Jake, and in his opinion, Jake was upbeat. That’s a good thing if it’s true. Don’t you agree, John?”
“I do agree. Jake has made up his mind. You always said once he decided on something, nothing could change his mind. Kudos to him. There goes the doorbell—Mack must be back. Stay here, Beth.”
A moment later both Mack and John stomped their way into the den, with Mack running to the fireplace and thrusting out his cold, red hands. “Oh, man, this feels so good. I about froze out there. I cannot believe this weather. John, can you wrestle me up some warm socks? My feet are so cold they’re numb, and I can’t feel a thing in my toes.”
“Sure thing,” John said, sprinting off toward the laundry room. He returned with a pair of bright red wool socks that Gracie had knitted for him years ago. They were his favorite socks for some reason.
Beth watched Mack struggling with his shoes and socks as she pummeled him with questions. “Did you see or hear anything? What do you think? Is he still stalking me? I am so sorry you’re freezing cold. I just made this hot coffee, and in a minute I’m going to get you some aspirin for you to take to ward off anything you might be coming down with. Maybe you should take a really hot shower.”
“I will, but first I need to thaw out. Oh, Beth, this is like nectar for the gods,” Mack said as he gulped the hot coffee. He swallowed the four aspirin Beth held out, and sighed
. “This is just my gut feeling, but I think Luke Olsen is holed up in your friend’s house, Don and Sally English’s. On my first walk by, I thought I saw a shadow by the front window. It could have been my imagination, but I do not think so. And that particular house is perfect for his spying. If he is in there, he can see the front door of this house just perfectly. I really think he’s in there.” Mack held out his cup for a refill. Beth filled it almost to the brim.
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Beth asked.
“We need to talk about that,” Mack said as he wiggled his feet as close as he could to the fire. “If I’m right, and he is in there, then he was watching and saw me walking by not once but twice. If he is in there, he’s probably got a sleeping bag, some protein bars, some soft drinks, and maybe a heating pad or two. If I spooked him, he could be out of there in two minutes flat. All he has to do is roll up his sleeping bag and scurry out the back door. I don’t know if he’s gotten a second car yet or not. He could have one stashed in the garage—there’s no way of knowing. He could be leaving by the back door as the police are knocking on the front door. If that happens, he goes to ground.”
Beth’s expression turned stubborn. “Well, we can’t just sit here and do nothing.” She turned to look at John, and said, “I think we should go back to Nashville as soon as the weather breaks. We’re too open here. He’ll have a harder time of it in Nashville.”
Mack shook his head. “It’s six of one and half a dozen of the other, Beth. The guy is determined, so it doesn’t matter much which town you’re in. He’s already scoped out Nashville, knows where you live, knows where John works. If you stay here, you’re pretty much a prisoner in your own house. I thought you wanted to be at the hospital tomorrow when your brother is operated on.”
Beth’s eyes filled up. “I did say that, and I do want to be there for Jake. The minute I know he’s all right, that’s when we’ll leave. The roads should be sanded and salted by morning tomorrow. John?”
“Whatever you want, Beth, is okay with me. How about if Jim and I go out tonight after dark and sneak up on the house. Jim can take the back, and I can take the front. You can call Don and Sally and tell them we might be busting in their door, but we’ll pay for it. Let’s think about that, and talk later, okay?”
But they didn’t talk. Instead, they hunkered down into themselves and let their minds race with different scenarios.
Within minutes, Beth and John could see Mack’s eyes start to droop. When he was finally asleep, Beth covered him with an afghan. She motioned to John to head for the kitchen, where they could talk without waking the detective.
“I hope he doesn’t get sick,” Beth said fretfully. “I like him. He has the saddest eyes of anyone I’ve ever met. Even when he smiles, which isn’t often, his eyes are still sad.”
“There’s a reason for that,” John said quietly. “His wife was in the North Tower when . . . you know when. He was working out of the New York office that year on a special assignment. His wife, Carol, was working at an investment firm in the tower.”
Beth’s eyes filled, and as hard as she fought to keep her tears in check, she failed. “I had no idea.”
“Well, don’t say anything unless he tells you. He has this . . . this . . . this thing about keeping women safe. It’s a mission, an obsession. I think in some ways, he must feel like he failed his wife, which on the face of it is ridiculous. He had no way of knowing, and there was nothing he could do. And yet he blames himself. I could see it even though he says that’s not true. Let’s talk about something else, Beth. Are you sure you want to go back to Nashville tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’m sure. But not until we see how Jake comes through his surgery. Maybe we can help Mr. Stonebridge in the soup kitchen if they open the alley for the people who depend on him for their meals.”
“Okay. I don’t have a problem with that at all.”
Beth got up and walked over to the back door. She cupped her hands around her face and peered out at the oncoming darkness. “There’s so much ice on the willow tree, I think it’s going to split in two.”
“What’s the temperature?” John asked.
“A nice thirty-five degrees,” Beth said, stretching her neck so she could read the numbers on the big red-and-white outdoor thermometer. “One degree higher than it was at two o’clock. Maybe it will warm up. It looks like the sleet is turning to rain.”
John watched Beth and hated how brittle she looked and sounded. This was something he’d never seen in her before. She was always in charge, always had just the right answer, always upbeat. And now this. Damn, how he hated Luke Olsen, and right now he wasn’t too fond of Jake Masters, either, for what he had put Beth through.
When Beth couldn’t stand the silence any longer she blurted out the words she had no intention of ever saying. “Where is this all going to end, John?”
“I honest to God do not know, Beth. I’ve never come across anything like this before. I think Jim Mack is the best man for the job. I really do. I’m sorry to say we can’t count on the police because their hands are tied. They are bound by rules and regulations, unlike Jim Mack, who is independent. I’m not saying Jim can or would do anything against the law, but there are ways for people like him to get the job done. Everything with the authorities has to be transparent, so there can be plausible deniability. How else do you think the CIA operates with all their clandestine operations ? Don’t forget for one minute Jim’s background at the FBI. He knows how to skirt the edges to make things work for him. The bottom line is, we have to trust him.”
Beth sat back down at the table and reached for John’s hands. “John, do you think Luke’s parents know about . . . about him?”
John sighed. He wondered the same thing. “Part of me says yes, and they won’t give him up or cooperate. The other part of me says no, that Luke would cover his butt six ways to Sunday, and if by some slim chance they did have an inkling, he’d make it that you’re the one chasing him, blah-blah-blah. Like you said, the guy is extremely good-looking and virile, and as parents, they’d be ready to believe every girl in the world would want their son. The guy is what, thirty-three or thirty-four? You’d think they’d be wondering why he hasn’t found a girl to marry so they could have grandchildren. Again, this is one of those six-of-one, half-a-dozen-of-the-other scenarios. If you absolutely need a top-of-my-head answer, then I would go with they know. What do you think?”
“I think they know, too. I wonder what I would do if I were in their place and confronted with a situation like this. I want to think I’d do the right thing. Right is right. Wrong just doesn’t work. If you cover up something like that, how do you live with yourself? What would you do, John, if you were the father?”
The words exploded out of John’s mouth bullet fast. “If I were his father, I’d drag his sorry ass to the nearest police station and turn him in. I would, Beth. If they don’t do that, then they are just as guilty as he is. Like you said, right is right and wrong is wrong.”
“Then why can’t we go to them and talk openly? If they come down on his side, at least we know what we’re dealing with. Well, not us personally, but Jim could do it. And if we succeed, that would make them complicit. Let them worry how they’re going to come out in one piece.”
“We can run it up the flagpole when Jim wakes up. I wonder how long he’s going to sleep. The other night, he said he’s not a sleeper and gets by on two or three hours a night. Said he used to sleep deeply for eight hours every night, but that changed when . . . well, that changed for him.”
Beth looked at the clock. “We should start warming up this food. We won’t wake him, but I’ll fix a plate and keep it in the warmer.”
“That sounds like a plan. I am getting hungry. Hey, look at me, Beth. We’re going to beat this thing. I don’t want you to have any doubts on that score. Right is might. Remember that,”
Beth giggled. “Gotcha. Okay, you set the table. Use the good dishes. I like the mistletoe and holly pattern
on them. My gosh, Christmas is only five weeks away. So what are you getting me this year?” She giggled again as she started to whack slices of white meat off what was left of their Thanksgiving turkey.
“Only if you tell me first.”
“Oh, you’re no fun! Guess what I’m getting Jake! A skateboard!”
“No!”
“Yep!”
Chapter Nineteen
Mack shuffled into the kitchen. He smoothed down his hair and looked around, grinned, and said, “Something smells good. Can’t remember when I last slept that soundly. What time is it?” His voice was raspy, his eyes unfocused.
“Seven-thirty. You look rested. That’s a good thing, Mack. I have a plate warming for you,” Beth said, taking in the detective’s disheveled appearance.
Beth and John mumbled and muttered as they watched Mack wolf down a platter of food that would have been three meals for either one of them. For sure, the detective didn’t suffer from a lack of appetite.
Mack sighed. “That was just as good as it was yesterday. Thanks.” He sighed again as he leaned back in his chair. “And you make good coffee, too.” He drained his cup and looked at the two of them. When neither one said anything, Mack took the initiative. “Want to go for a walk, John?”
“Sure. Beth, you okay staying alone for a half hour or so?”
“I’m good. We need to move along here. It stopped sleeting, and it’s just misting out now. The temperature is now thirty-seven degrees, so at least it’s warming a little. It’s going to be a mess when it all thaws out, but there’s nothing we can do about it. Go ahead, I’ll lock up behind you. Make sure you put your boots on.”
“Yes, Mother,” John drawled.
“I have an extra set of cleats in my trunk, John. I doubt there’s been much car traffic on the road to break up the ice. We’ll do better if we walk on the lawns since the grass acts as a cushion on the ice. Don’t know if it’s a fool’s walk or not, but at this point, we have nothing to lose.”
Perfect Match Page 20