by Kim Smith
I had to smile at the vision of Rick’s brother caught with his britches down, or even full monty. Anything I could use against him during his inevitable trial.
Yes, your Honor, he had his brother killed in cold blood and had sex the night of his funeral to celebrate.
Then I remembered my missing videos, and my heart fell. What if he was the one drooling over them every night?
“That’s disgusting,” I muttered aloud.
“What’s that?” Dwayne replied, leaning toward me as he tried to pull over to the curb four houses down.
“Oh, nothing. I was thinking out loud.”
“Well stop. You saying something is disgusting makes me think I forgot my deodorant.”
I sniffed loudly. “Can’t tell, but I think it’s still working.”
He snorted. “Get out.”
“Me? What about you?”
“Did you see the fence that man has around his place? Hell, girl, I ain’t into no climbing shit.”
I had seen the fence and agreed that scaling it would take finesse. Extremely quiet finesse.
“Well, Mr. Quick-Fix, how do you suspect I will be able to climb it if you can’t?”
“You’re smaller and lighter. If you had a little lift—”
I interrupted. “What? You’re planning on putting me on your shoulders and tossing me over?”
“That was the idea.”
“Think of another one.”
“Why? You get into the back yard where no one can see you, get to the gate, and let me in. Then we can do something.”
I sat with my arms crossed, thinking. What other choice did I have? The whole front of the house faced the street and was visible to God and everybody. We had to work our way into the house from the backyard.
“All right,” I opened my door. “But if I fall onto something and break my neck because you made me do this, it’s on your head.”
As I walked, I kept telling myself Charlie wasn’t home, and he had no big ugly dogs with sharp teeth.
“No dogs, no dogs, no dogs,” I said under my breath. The fence ran along the driveway from one corner of the house to the neighbor’s house. I picked out a small tree near the far corner. From that spot, I could look over to see what was waiting on the other side before making my free fall into Charlie’s backyard.
I pulled myself into the lowest branches and climbed up to the higher ones. Once there, my ability to see into the backyard improved considerably. The light from a back window helped some, and after a moment, a figure moved inside the house. Somebody was home.
I leaned forward, pushing leaves aside to gain a better angle, with no luck. The tree hadn’t been told it was damn near autumn. Sweat beaded on my forehead. Of course, fate would perch me up here in the midst of the hottest August on record.
Carefully, I pressed down on the branch a little more. It bowed downward and my heart almost stopped. I inched back to avoid breaking my perch, but it kept bending in spite of my efforts. I overcompensated my attempt to get it to go upwards, and in seconds, I hurtled over the fence riding the branch like a bronco all the way to the ground, whooping with terror.
I didn’t mean to scream, but when I landed in the yard face-down, hands and elbows digging into the earth with the branch between my legs, I found myself nose-to-nose with a dog that strikingly resembled Marmaduke.
“Nice doggie,” I crooned. “Niiiice doggie.”
He yelped at me.
“No, shhh.”
He danced around me, barking frantically, as if I were a cornered rabbit or squirrel in his yard.
The light snapped off in the room just ahead of me, and the yard became a dark pit illuminated only by thin watery moonlight.
“Shan?” Dwayne hissed from behind me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Get me out of here, Dwayne. This dog wants to eat me.”
“Hang on.” He struggled in the tree, and the limbs shook.
The dog continued to bark.
It lumbered a few steps toward me, sniffing. Dog slobber dripped on my hand.
“Hey you!” he hissed. “Stupid dog, come and get it.”
I watched as the dog got curious and loped over to something Dwayne tossed on the ground. The back porch light flared on.
Time to move. I leapt onto the fence my, shoes making hollow thuds as I dug my toes into the wood and nearly strangled on the board tops. Charles Fine’s voice called out to the four-legged beast scarfing down whatever Dwayne had given him.
“Dumplings?” he called. I threw myself over the fence, my heels slapping the other side.
“Dumplings, what are you going on about?” he exclaimed, just as I met Dwayne in the street. We sprinted for the car. We were halfway to Germany Road before we burst out laughing.
“Dumplings?” We asked in unison.
The evening had been utter failure, but at least we knew Charlie was home. And he had a dog. We would have better luck next time.
I glanced at Dwayne and at the sweat streaking down his cheeks. Better offer to buy him a beer, or there wouldn’t be a next time.
After a heated discussion about whether I should go home or not — where I won the battle and lost the war — Dwayne drove me to my apartment. Our agreement stipulated I would spend the night at home tonight, but his place was open if I got spooked.
We parked the car and got out to go upstairs to check on my apartment. Dwayne insisted I have company after the shooting. Since the fiasco we called “Chicken and Dumplings,” weariness had begun to set in. Even walking the distance through the parking lot took all of my energy.
I glanced at my car, Betsy, as we passed. Nothing amiss. She had been violated once, but I suspected my freaky stalker had better things in mind since his previous effort had failed.
We didn’t talk as we climbed up to the second floor of my unit. As we approached my door, something made the small hairs on the back of my neck move.
In scary movies, a screeching hoot owl would signify something was wrong, but instead the way my door stood ajar sent goose pimples across my neck.
I tugged on Dwayne’s arm and pulled him back to the stairs.
“No. We need help.”
We ran back to the car, and Dwayne called the cops.
“This is not good,” he said, after setting his phone in his cup holder.
I didn’t know what to say.
We got out when the wail of a siren rose in the distance. It was the same poor soul on duty from the night before.
“Officer Blalock,” I smiled. “Hi, again.”
He frowned. “Not again?”
“I’m afraid so.”
He made ready to go up. I started to follow him, but he put out a hand to stop me. “Better stay back, Ma’am.”
I swallowed hard as he unsnapped his gun and pulled it out. Holstered it didn’t look like much. Now it was big, and threatening. We watched as he entered the apartment, throwing the door wide and taking a defensive stance.
We stayed in the parking lot and listened for shouts. Or shots. If any firing started, I would jump inside the car and take my chances.
Tremors started in my knees while we waited, and when Officer Blalock came back outside to find us, they had reached my whole body.
“You can’t go in,” he told me. “Someone’s tore up the place pretty good. Let me get an investigator over here.” He pulled his microphone from his lapel to answer the dispatcher and asked for her to call none other than our dear friend Sal.
I thanked him, turning away when he left to meet a newly arrived cop. I stood there, twisting my purse strap, and Dwayne gave me a quick hug.
“Guess this means you want my spare bed again.”
My throat closed at the dry burn of unshed tears, and my voice quavered. “I want my life back.”
I stuck my hand in my purse and felt the unbreakable steel of my new gun. At that moment, it felt like it was the only solid thing I had in my life.
Blalock and the other cop directed Sal upstai
rs when he arrived with a crime scene investigator. Ramirez didn’t say anything, but went straight to work. We waited outside, alternating sitting on a worn lawn chair.
Finally, Sal called us inside. “It is pretty ugly, so don’t freak out.”
We tiptoed into the apartment and eased forward a few steps. It didn’t take long to see why he warned me.
Dwayne whistled low. “Dayum.”
I took a deep breath in. Out. And another one in. And out. My coffee table was sideways, drawers in my desk were flung open, and my mantle was raked clean.
I grabbed the back of my couch for support. There was a reason for this invasion. Who wanted to visit and vent? Maybe it was the killer? Maybe he was pissed about missing me with that bullet?
The shaking stopped, and anger ripped through me. I stepped around the couch. Looking for something, was he? “I hope you found whatever it was, you bastard,” I muttered.
I kicked at a piece of broken glass. A collection of pink vases, a housewarming gift from Katie, used to decorate my mantle. Now, it was completely gone. Whoever had done this had been vicious and thorough, making sure to leave everything destroyed.
Blalock tapped me on the shoulder. “Once the investigation is finished, get the maintenance man over to get your door fixed. The lock’s not in good shape.”
I glanced back at it and shrugged, too numb to answer.
“Can I see the rest?” I asked Sal.
He nodded. “Just don’t touch anything.”
I stepped over the littered area and made my way down the short hall to my bedroom, which was worse. Way worse.
My lamp lay on its side. The mattress had been upended. Every single item in my dresser was tossed helter-skelter. Nothing had escaped the violent attack, including my bathroom and closet.
I left everything as it was and wandered back to the front. The cops were already assessing the damage.
“Good thing you weren’t home,” the CSI said to me. She aimed a flashlight over the lower area of my entertainment center looking carefully. I hadn’t dusted in so long that they wouldn’t have trouble finding fingerprints.
My weary mind couldn’t focus any longer. I needed to escape before I began sobbing. Dwayne had been following me around, shocked into silence.
He pointed at the door after seeing the look on my face. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I asked the CSI, “Would it be okay if I left? You guys can do your thing without me here. Right?”
A familiar voice answered from behind me. “No, you need to stay for a while.”
I turned to see Sal standing in the kitchen doorway.
“I’m exhausted, I’m frustrated, I’m scared out of my gourd. What’s wrong with my leaving?”
He frowned. “I have questions.”
“What sort of questions?”
He waved me over. “Come into the kitchen.”
Sal led the way over the garbage strewn across the floor from my overturned trashcan and pointed for me to look. “This is what I need to talk to you about.”
In the center of my cheap pine dining table was a knife stuck deep into the wood. It held down a note.
Sal tapped me on the shoulder. “Go on, read it.”
I stepped gingerly around the trash and stopped at the side of the table. It read: Sorry you couldn’t make our date. I’ll call you soon.
Sal gave me time to read and ponder it before he stepped closer to me. “I’d say he’s a little pissed at you.”
This made it through my fogged brain. “Why? What have I done? What does he want?”
“To kill you, it seems. Explain to me why, Shannon.” He sounded as tired as I felt.
I rubbed my eyes. “I wish I knew.”
He took my arm and helped me across the swath of spilled refuse. “I need to have you followed for a while. This is getting ugly.”
“I’m scared, Sal. Really scared. This is just so…invasive. I feel physically dirty, like this asshat knows what I look like naked. He’s been through everything.” I looked around at the disaster. “And I do mean everything.”
“Shannon, look, I’m sorry. You know we’re doing the best we can. You have to give us a chance to find this guy. I can get you an alarm system, new locks, whatever you need.”
I stared into his hot chocolate eyes and saw the kindness there. “Right at the moment, I’m not too sure what I need. But thanks, Sal. I appreciate all you have done. I just wish I could find some peace. For one day. God. Do all criminals work like this?”
He shook his head. “Each case is different. This one is mal. Muy mal.”
I sighed and waved at the investigators working. “How long will this take?”
He shrugged. “Tonight at least, maybe longer.”
“Don’t worry about it, Shan. I got you.” Dwayne shuffled his feet a little looking at the mess around us.
“Take his offer,” Sal said, tossing a can of pepper spray to Dwayne who caught it one-handed. “Keep her safe.”
Chapter 13
Some things will unwind me like none other—and curling up on Dwayne’s couch tucked in a blanket helped. The yummy hot chocolate topped it off.
He lounged across his recliner, swinging on foot. “Look! It’s Patti LaBelle.” He pointed with the remote as he stopped on one of the most popular home shopping channels. “I would almost buy one of those damn things if I could talk to the Diva herself. Shit, I must be bored out of my mind now.”
I smiled. He was funny without trying. “I know something we can do if you’re really bored.”
“What?”
“Go clean up my apartment.”
“Shoot, you talk like a fool. I ain’t going anywhere near your apartment where this nut is staked out. Besides, Salivate won’t still be there.”
“You really like him, don’t you?”
“Yeah, hell, he makes my pants wanna get up and dance. But I guess that’s wishful thinking anyway.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He only has eyes for you.”
“Bullshit.”
“No bullshit. I saw him looking at you tonight. He’s kinda like a kicked puppy. Hurt and don’t know why.”
“What? I don’t get it.”
“Sweetie, not to say you’re slow, but it does take you an hour to make instant oats,” he declared, swinging his legs around and sitting up. “That dude is truly into you.”
Sal wanted me? Fat chance. “He wants a killer and I’m his bait.”
“Listen,” he said, leaning forward, “I had an old spinster auntie one time who refused to marry because she thought the man was only seeing her to make someone else jealous. Bait of a kind, you know? She died an old maid, never married, and never laid. Now that’s just plain sad. You can’t think ole Sally is only interested in his job. Not after the way he looks at you.”
“At me or at my body? I am nobody’s booty call.”
“Shit sugar, it’s a package deal, ain’t it?”
I couldn’t find an argument.
The next morning, I rose from my slumber to the sound of paper crinkling. I walked into the living room to find Dwayne seated on the couch digging around in a bag from the local burger joint. It was only a few minutes past six.
He gazed up at me with guilty eyes. “I know it’s asinine, but I woke up smelling bacon. Don’t know how, don’t know why, but I did. Made me hungry as hell, and all I could think of was getting something fried and fattening. I ran out and brought back this. I got you something too.” He opened a box of pancakes.
I yawned and stretched, plopping down beside him. Staring at the food, I said, “That doesn’t look very appetizing.”
He shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth. His face underwent several changes as he chewed, swallowed, and washed it down with orange juice. “Lawd Jesus. That was like a piece of thin rubber band.”
“I told you so.” I moved the napkins around to find a straw.
“Damn fat cells. Got me addicted. I can’t help my addict
ions. I love pork fat.”
I laughed. “Okay, Porky, what’s on the agenda?”
“Still have to find Redmon’s woman.”
“I need to make a trip to the furniture store to get into Rick’s computer before his dad changes his mind.”
“Guess that means we’re splitting up?”
I sighed. “Yeah, damn. I sure am glad we got that gun.”
“Been a weird few days for sure.”
“No kidding. I feel a lot safer now that I have my little buddy tucked in my purse. Hey, is there any chance we might get to retry Charlie’s house?”
He nearly choked on his bacon. “Fuck that! You want to get your ass chewed off by some mangy hound?”
“No, I want to get into his house to check it out. I’m afraid if I don’t, then anything linking him to the murder will vanish. He might have the SD card.”
He shook his head and interrupted. “Probably gone by now.”
“I still want to go. I have to try. I have to keep doing something, keep moving, even if it’s a big, fat, failure. And if Charlie is behind all this pipe-bombing, gun-shooting, and apartment wrecking shit, well, to use your terms, I’m going to pop a cap in his ass.”
He grinned. “Never quit, huh?”
“Nope.”
We finished our food—I even ate the pancakes which weren’t too bad—and cleaned up the mess. He left for the Straw Hat Company, and I slipped into the shower.
Water is renewal to me, refines and refreshes. Afterward, I pulled on clean jeans and a tank top, towel-dried my hair, and went to find my shoes.
Out of habit, I grabbed my cell phone and checked the screen. One missed call from a number unrecognized. I turned the phone off. It had to be him. If he wanted to call and continue to play this game, he could do it via voice mail. I wanted to block the number but knew he would just use another phone another day. I could block numbers forever but it wouldn’t matter.
I finished dressing and collected my hot pink studded tote. It was a knock-off brand name, but done quite well. I made sure my gun was inside along with the pepper spray. Couldn’t have too much protection.
I started out, ready to tackle Rick’s computer.
The familiar roads sent a tug at my heart. No longer would I be singing to top forty tunes on the way to my job and a day filled with one fine Richard Fine. I turned the music up and drowned out the voices in my head.