by Kim Smith
“Shannon. Shannon?”
I opened my eyes. He gazed at me with kindness, understanding, and something like pity. He sat beside me on the curb, took me into his arms and held me. Just like that. Simple, once it came to it. He rocked me murmuring Spanish and English until it all sounded the same. My tears turned into wracking sobs until the hiccups took over.
We were interrupted by his duty. One of the cops working the case came and coughed quietly behind us.
“What is it, Smith?”
“Sir, we need you to come and see this before the body is moved.”
“I’ll be okay, go on,” I told him, wiping my face with my palms. He gently brushed his thumbs under my eyes, doing a better job, and I didn’t want him to leave me. His eyes were questioning when I finally found the strength to look at him.
“Go on,” I insisted. “They need you. I’ll be here.”
He nodded and followed Smith inside. I remained there, the sun on my back, trying to ignore the activity behind me as an ambulance appeared along with more police cruisers.
I heard cops talking to each other and from what I gleaned, Joe had been dead for a pretty long while. They whispered “serial killer”, and all the blood rushed to my head. The world tilted, and I closed my eyes against the blackness that threatened to envelop me.
Rick’s and Joe’s killer. Serial killer.
I opened my eyes and tried to focus, but the only thing I saw was Charles Fine’s face at the Underground and the sound of his voice as it taunted me.
Sal came back outside some time later. I didn’t realize I had been sitting for over an hour until he mentioned the redness beginning to mark my arms. We went to his car so he could ask me a few questions.
He shut his door, started the car, and turned the air conditioning up.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.
I squinted at him. “I may never be okay again.”
“Yes, you will. I won’t let you quit now. You have to be strong.”
“Yeah, right.” Great words, easy words.
“Look at it this way. As long as you are strong and fighting, the killer loses.”
“I don’t think I can fight anymore. He’s taken my security, my hope, my friends. Hell, my whole freaking life.”
“That’s why you have to be strong and keep playing. He’s still in the dugout. You’re at bat now.”
“What gives me such an advantage? You act like killing Joe-” My voice broke. “This is not a fucking game, Sal!”
He softened. “No, but in the twisted mind of this killer, it is a game. With high stakes. He wants to be in charge of enforcing the rules of it. We have to take back control.”
“How? How in hell do we do that? Oh God!” The tears fell in a flood now. “I’m scared; I am so scared.”
“I know. Don’t you think I know that?” He turned and leaned toward me. I thought he might take me into his arms again, but he only patted my shoulder.
“Then tell me what to d-do. How do I keep from being n-next?” I choked.
“We have to change the rules of the game.”
I glared at him. He was committed to catching this killer at all costs, and for some unknown reason, he believed that my imperfect self could actually help him.
“Okay, Detective. What do you want me to do?” I asked, catching my breath and steadying my voice. “The killer, as you now know, is not Joe.”
“Right. I don’t believe it’s Mr. Fine either, but to indulge your suspicions, I’m having him watched. At the very least, he may be in danger, as well. No one is safe right now if they are in anyway connected to this case.”
“Great. Now I’m worried sick about Dwayne. Don’t you think you need to have him followed too?”
“Good idea. Since the two of you are usually together, I can kill dos pájaros con una piedra.”
“Whatever that means,” I sighed.
“Never mind. Now listen. We found a few things similar in this case as in Mr. Fine’s. When we find Drury’s killer, we’ll have found Mr. Fine’s. Connecting the dots between these similarities is now my focus.”
“What similarities are there?” I chewed on my first fingernail and wished Dwayne would call me.
“Missing video equipment.”
I inhaled. Damn. “I don’t know anything about that. I don’t know what that means.”
He frowned at me. “You seemed interested in the stuff taken from Fine’s apartment.”
“So? I was curious. He was my boyfriend, I wanted to know.”
“Uh huh. I don’t buy that.”
I turned away and rubbed my neck in an effort to evade his searching eyes. It didn’t work.
“Is there anything about these missing items that you know and I don’t?” He shifted in his seat.
How could I divulge such information to him? How could I tell him that what was missing were the only things in my life I was ashamed of anyone knowing about?
“It’s a need to know basis on that.”
“I don’t suppose you would want to expound on that answer?” he asked, resigned. “I don’t want to have to arrest you.”
“Nothing to expound. You’d better damn well have good reason to haul me in. I’m innocent and you know it.”
He shot me a look. His eyes were twin pools of determination. “Innocent of murder, yes, but what is this deal with you suppressing information? How can I do my job if I don’t have all the clues?”
I smoothed down my shirt and opened the door. “I really need to get going.”
“Wait! Get your ass back in here,” he commanded, pulling on my back pocket to make me sit down. “We’re not through here, chica.”
Something in his voice told me I really should go, or I would find out why he was such an expert interrogator. My cell phone rang, and I tugged away from him like I was going to answer it. Before he could get a better grip, I slid out.
“Gotta run!” I shouted at him, jetting for my car.
Roaring down Greenman, I held my phone in a death grip and fought back tears. Somewhere in Ireland, my best friend was griping because I didn’t answer my phone.
Damn it, Katie, why did you call me when I couldn’t talk?
Chapter 15
I stopped at the traffic light at Greenman and Polaris Street, glared at the car in front of me, and tried to decide what to do now. I should go over to Rick’s and see about things, but the mere thought made my stomach turn over and trembling began again. Was this nightmare ever going to end?
I wiped my palms on my shorts, fear making them sweat. My life had gone in a downward twist and right now I needed loving arms and comfort food. I turned left from the light taking the back roads to my aunts’ house. They had been bandaging my skinned knees, broken heart, and “tempest in a teacup” situations all my life. They could fix this, too.
Dwayne didn’t answer when I called, and I tried not to be overly concerned. He was just working the Redmon case. It was nothing else. Worry made me want to go to this trailer and check on him too. Exhaustion stopped me. Sal would keep a man watching Dwayne, me, my aunts, and anyone in the Fine family. I had to trust the authorities right now.
It was probably a good thing that Dwayne didn’t answer anyway. I didn’t know if I could tell him about Joe, the pain was too new, too raw. Feeling like a mass of emotional garbage, all I could do was focus on reaching the Mamas’ house. I pressed down on the accelerator.
The stereo drowned out the screaming voices in my head that kept asking why, why, why, over and over. Raucous vocals and loud, throbbing music blared from the speakers, and I understood perfectly why some people labeled it metal.
Nancy came out onto the front porch when I pulled in. She shaded her eyes with her hand and squinted. Tears splashed down as I fled the car and rushed toward her. She put her arms around me after I stumbled up the two front steps. “Shannon, what’s wrong? What is it honey?”
I couldn’t answer and allowed her to lead me into the house. The recliner
in the living room became my cave, and I dissolved into it, sobbing hysterically. Nancy yelled for Tillie to get in there. They sat on either side of me on each of the chair’s arms, and waited.
Finally, when my tears lessened, the silence of the house and the room became unbearable, and I lifted my face from my hands to look at them. “Joe Drury was murdered.”
“Not the nice boy who came over here with Rick?” Tillie asked, hand to her heart. “Who would do such a thing?”
“And why?” Nancy asked, stilling her swinging foot at the news.
“I went to see him. I…found him.”
“Oh my glorious Lord!” Tillie exclaimed.
“I know,” I sighed. New tears welled and fell, and I felt rather than saw the two of them making hand gestures over my head. I tilted my head back, to get the full story from the mouthing going on.
They stopped, looking guilty.
Nancy recovered first. “What can we do?”
“Yes, dearest, tell us. We’ll do anything you want.”
I wiped my eyes and stood, disentangling myself from my tote. “I need chocolate, a hot bath, and some time to think this through.”
They exchanged glances with one another while the sense of my words sank in. Nancy leaned down, lifted my foot, and tugged my shoe off. Tillie kissed my cheek and headed for the kitchen. In a few moments I was sixteen again, in a Jacuzzi filled with scented bath oil beads, a cup of homemade hot chocolate, and nothing but blissful quiet in the room.
The crying ended when I gave myself a stern talking to. Tears wouldn’t fix any of this mess. I needed to be strong. This killer wasn’t playing any games. He really was coming for me, and I had to protect myself. But first, I needed to regroup. I climbed out of the tub, wrapped myself in a thick terry robe, and climbed into my Aunt Tillie’s bed. In a matter of moments, sleep claimed my tired mind and body.
A few hours later, refreshed, renewed, and replenished, I faced the Mamas to discuss the situation. They wanted to know why I went to Joe’s house and what the police thought was going on.
“I honestly don’t know the answer to that,” I told them, as we sat on the sofa. “Detective Ramirez shares very little information with me but believed he had something on Joe. I went to Joe’s house to try to convince him to tell the cops why he was at Rick’s Friday night. I thought they would quit considering him as a suspect. Joe was innocent. I knew it. The cops wouldn’t listen.”
“Even trained professionals make mistakes, dear.” Tillie pried open my clenched fingers, and held my hand. “They’re only human.”
“If Sal had only asked me about Joe earlier, or if I had made Joe give me more information when I had him on the phone, he might still be alive. He might be alive, if not for me. Just like Rick.”
“Not necessarily,” Nancy said, in her best business voice. “Who knows what’s in the killer’s mind? Not you, and not me. Unfortunately, we’re not in charge of things like that, no matter how much we’d like to be. You’re not God, Shannon.”
Something in her voice made me look at her. She tilted her head toward the light, and I noticed how silvery-white her hair had become. Either she had stopped using a rinse
or she had changed to a new, lighter one.
“What on earth does that mean?” Tillie scolded, summing up my thoughts.
“She’s not a child anymore, Till. She can handle grief as well as the next and probably better than most, but she has suffered a great loss.” She looked at me, concern on her face. “None of us should go around blaming ourselves for situations that occur outside our range. You’re not to blame.”
“Oh, here we go again,” Tillie moaned. “The side effects of suffering. Bull fronkies.”
“Well, she’s lost more folks in her short life than most people do. And she has yet to deal with it. Now this? I guess it’s about enough to do anyone in.”
Uncertain, I asked, “What are you talking about?”
“You’re going over and over ground that doesn’t belong to you. Aren’t you saying ‘if only this’ and ‘if only that’? The questions never go away, my dear. You just have to forget the way things might have gone and believe there’s a reason for everything. Otherwise, your grief oozes out in areas of your life you don’t want.”
“Maybe one day she will look at it that way. Right now she needs some distance from death and the discussions surrounding it,” Tillie admonished.
I hugged a couch pillow to my chest. “I agree I have to quit worrying about the what ifs. Right now, I have to focus on how to keep this nut from coming after me with the same results as Rick and Joe.”
They both fell silent—the implication of my words taking the wind out of their sails.
“I’ve decided not to come around here for a while until this whole thing is over. I’m not keen on putting the two of you in any danger. I may have done so already. I intend to ask Detective Ramirez for a patrolman to keep an eye on you so mind your manners, you hear? No racing to work, no streaking to the mailbox. None of that.”
Tillie giggled, but Nancy just glared at her for her lack of propriety.
I smiled and patted Nancy’s foot. “It’s okay, Aunt Nan. I’m okay, and you’re going to be okay. Maybe one day we can bury the what ifs together.”
She nodded, her shoulders slumping a little. I silently lifted a prayer for lots of time together to do just that.
Dwayne’s trailer park inched into view. Betsy’s gas gauge had nearly red-lined, and I was running low on everything else. I was afraid to go home, afraid to stay with the Mamas, and afraid to go to Dwayne’s, but in the end, I had no choice.
“Thank God,” I exhaled, when he answered his phone. “I have been worried sick. Is it okay if I come over? I’m nearly there already.”
“Yeah shit, girl. Come on up here. I ain’t scared of this jackass.”
Dwayne’s reassurances gave me hope, and I hoped he’d be able to keep danger at bay if something went bump in the night.
We sat at his tiny Formica-topped table, dipping apples in caramel. “Sleep is out of the question, I’m as wide-eyed as a raccoon,” I told him.
“Hell, don’t feel bad, I’m on a sugar high and chatty, too. Tell me what went on today.”
I remembered about the computer and the email and relayed what had unfolded to him.
“Damn, this dude is getting serious. This shit’s too whacked out for even me to understand. Why the hell didn’t Rick tell someone about the threats? Was the man nuts?”
“No. He probably thought he could handle it. Maybe he didn’t want the police involved in anything too close to the business, either. It would have been bad publicity. That’s how he was.”
“Hm. Now you got me curious. Tell me more about Rick,” he prodded. “I know he climbed the corporate rope, liked making sex videos, and now lives somewhere with Elvis, JFK and John Wayne, but I don’t know who he was, as far as you were concerned.”
“He was good to me, D. We had a lot of fun. What else do you need to know?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Did you love him?”
“I suppose I did. I mean, at some point, I guess I believed we would marry.” I began to chew a nail. It hurt to admit how much I had counted on Rick.
“Was there anything about him that you would want in another man?”
I had to stop and think about that. “He had great hair.”
Dwayne rolled his eyes. “I should have known you wouldn’t tell me about his steak kabob.”
I laughed, thankful for the reprieve. “What? I make it a habit not to kiss and tell.”
“Good plan, although I could tell you a whole bunch of stuff about men that have known me. Lordy, Lordy. The beef steaks I have seen!”
“Quit!” I guffawed. “I’m too full of apples for the giggles.”
He fell silent, but his eyes gleamed with amusement. His humor and friendship had kept me from thinking about Joe’s murder for a few minutes. But like turning a corner and coming face-to-face with something a
wful, the memory came back with a heart-pounding rush. He didn’t know everything about my entire day yet.
“Dwayne, there’s something I have to tell you,” I started. “Joe-”
“I know,” he interrupted, dropping his gaze. “I needed to ask Ramirez something, and he told me when I called.”
That explained his all-out effort to keep me laughing and to keep my mind off of Joe. I wasn’t willing to delve into it if he knew about it already.
“What did you need to ask Sal about?”
“Illegal aliens.”
“What? Illegal aliens?”
“Yeah, Redmon’s wife is employing some folks who may be here on a green card. I wondered if he’d been looking for any illegals. Thought it might make things easier for me if I got her yardman busted. The cops would keep them
busy while I did my thing.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. He didn’t have anything though.”
“What did he say about me? I mean, about Joe?”
His clear brown eyes were full of sympathy. “He told me the whole story. Said Joe was dead, had been knifed up. Probably by the same slime-ball as before. Asked me to keep you close by and safe.”
My eyes misted over.
“Also said he was gonna have us followed. Don’t be scared if you see someone in a hoopty car following you around. Damn those dudes drive some ugly shit.”
“Thanks,” I said, dabbing my eyes.
“He also said you ran out on him in the middle of making a statement. You gonna go back and finish that?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He’s too close to the truth about the videos. He suspects I know more than I’m telling. Video stuff was taken from Joe’s place, too.”
He considered this. “Maybe you just need to lay low for a little while. Don’t call old Salivate. Keep out of sight, out of mind, you know what I’m saying?”
“I don’t know if I can do that. He’s the only cop I can turn to about this situation. Besides my buddy Blalock, but he isn’t a detective.”
“Well, you better avoid feeding stuff to Suspicious Sal. I swear if you end up in jail-”