by Kristi Rose
Precious said, “Oh, crap, Sam. Get out. Get out now. DB is there.” There was a scuffling sound and the chiming her car made when the door opened.
And here I thought DB was a crappy cop. Look at him following the clues. After yesterday’s gathering at my house, Leo had left with the task to get some of this info to DB and the other cop on the case. Apparently, he’d done just that.
The universe had not only saved my butt but handed me an opportunity I wouldn’t pass up.
“Is there something wrong with your mouth? Is that why you won’t open it?” Boomer asked.
I was buying time. I smiled without showing teeth and shook my head.
A rap on the exam room door.
Jacobson gave me a sideways glance then moved to open the door. His secretary was there, and she whispered something to him. My guess was, “The cops are here.”
Jacobson paled and looked at me. “Come back if you want that referral.”
“Mind if I use the restroom before I leave?”
Jacobson shook his head, then exited, closing the door behind him.
I waited a beat then stuck my head out the door. No one was in the hallway. I jogged to the closed door across the hall that wasn’t labeled with any sign.
Jacobson’s office. Filing cabinets not included. I tried the next door. Another examination room. I surveyed the small hallway. Two doors on my right, three on my left. On my right was the exam room I had been in and the door to the restroom. To my left was Jacobson’s office, where he and DB would likely come to talk any moment now, the second exam room and… I dashed for the last door. It was locked.
Voices came closer to the door that separated the front waiting room from me. I sprinted to the restroom and closed the door as DB and Jacobson came into the back. When the restroom light was on, a loud fan automatically engaged, making it hard to hear what the men were saying.
I said to Precious and Toby, “I’m gonna do some quick snooping. I’ll be out in a flash.” I took out my lock-picking kit and gave a silent thanks to Mrs. Wright.
Leo’s voice came across the line. “I’d advise against that, Samantha.”
“Crap.” I eased open the door to the restroom and poked my head out. DB and Jacobson were not in the hallway. I had to be quick because, if DB wanted Josh’s records, then we were both after the same thing. Before stepping out into the hall, I whispered. “Are you in your uniform?”
“Yes,” Leo replied. “I’m on break.”
“Then you should hand the earpiece to Precious.” I dashed to the locked door and knelt before the knob. I let out a slow breath as I slid my tools into the keyhole like Mrs. Wright taught me. I felt the nooks and crannies of the lock and used my utensils like a key. The lock turned, and I grinned like a crazed monkey.
“I’m in,” I said, incredulous.
“This is a bad idea,” Leo said.
“Shut up,” I said. My anxiety was shooting skyward. Getting caught by DB would not be a good thing. Inside, I scanned the cabinets looking for the C drawer. I whipped it open. This was where being a strong reader would have come in handy.
“Chapman,” I said as I went through my mental system I’d learned in school on how to recall letters even though matching the sounds to the symbols didn’t always make sense for me. “Ch,” I made the initial sound.
“Ch?” Leo echoed.
“Letter C. Letter H,” Precious said in the background.
I closed my eyes and pictured the shape those two letters made. “Got it,” I said and pulled open a drawer.
Leo said, “What you’re doing is breaking and entering.”
I snorted. “Is not. I’m paying to be here, and the people here know of my presence.” Spin, my dad always said everything came down to spin.
“Did you enter a space that was locked?” Leo again being all Johnny-law.
I flipped through the files but no Chapman. I took a picture of the files with their names showing so Precious could double-check me later. Not that later would do me any good once I left. “If I did, would you really want to know?”
He groaned.
I eased the drawer closed cabinet. Now, how in the world was I gonna get out of here?
“Listen,” I said, “I’m headed out. Everyone needs to be quiet so I can hear.” I pressed my ear to the door. Nothing. But that didn’t mean Jacobson and DB weren’t standing in the hallway not talking while Jacobson looked for his keys or something.
This could play out two ways. They were either in the hallway or not. How I approached my exit would be the key. Ease open the door was a sneak-out. Flinging open the door was exiting without guilt.
I flung the door open, but not so much that it banged against the wall. I wanted to be quiet in case they weren’t there.
And they weren’t.
Luck was on my side.
Reengaging the lock, I eased the door closed then hoofed it down the hallway. I’d made it halfway, just past Jacobson’s office door when it opened.
“Samantha?” Jacobson said.
I faced them and pressed my hands to my stomach. “Too many pain meds upset my stomach.” I gave a chin nod to DB.
“What are you doing here, Sam?” DB stuck his hands on his hips.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m a patient here.” I rubbed my hip. “Remember that hit and run that you all were supposed to be working on? Yeah, I’m the victim of that, in case you forgot.”
“You always been a patient here, or is this something new?” DB asked.
I shook my head. “I’m afraid HIPPA doesn’t allow the good doctor or me to tell you that information.” I gave a finger wave. “I’m out. Have a good one.”
“Wait a second,” DB said.
Leo and I groaned in unison.
“You better not be here butting into you know what.” He attempted to give me the old evil-eye stare that only worked when the receiver was afraid of the giver.
“What?” I said, feigning confusion.
“You know what,” he said.
“What is this ‘what’ you’re talking about? I have no idea what it is you’re trying to say.”
“Yeah you do,” he said.
This was where growing up with the chief of police came in handy. You know how to push his buttons.
“No, I don’t. Is this ‘what’ like an elusive yeti?”
He rolled his eyes. “Who said the ‘what’ was a yeti?”
“You did.”
“No, you did,” he argued.
“Actually—” Jacobson tried to interject.
“Whatever, this conversation is ridiculous. Talking with you DB gives me a headache,” I said, then turned and rushed out of the office.
Precious’s SUV was idling by the curb, and I jumped into the passenger seat, ripping my earpiece out at the same time.
Leo, the be-in-control-freak that he was, was driving, and Precious was in the back.
Leo smirked. “That was some game you just played with him. Remind me to avoid that at all costs.”
I pointed to myself. “Now who’s Jeopardy and who’s Wheel of Fortune?”
27
Tuesday
The next day, while Leo was looking into the inhaler Jacobson had mentioned, I took Cora to the park after school. I’d volunteered as a recess and lunchroom aide for the day and did my part as protective aunt, putting a stop to the dessert-stealing-zombie-trash-talking kids. Caught them red-handed. Following some cleverly emphasized words during my come-to-Jesus meeting, we all left understanding that their nonsense stopped today.
Wind River had done a fantastic job of meeting the needs of its residents, including those of the families with stay-at-home moms or dads. Our main park had a zip line that deposited people at the beginning of a mildly strenuous hiking trail that wound around by the river before circling back to the park. The playground was a kid’s dream come true with a fort that looked like a covered wagon, swings, slides, and a merry-go-round.
We played
for a while, me mostly doing the pushing and spinning work while we talked about her mom, the small number of friends she had at school, and the bad dream she’d had last night. Amazing what a kid will say when they were distracted with play.
Poor Cora, her morale was low. Her self-esteem teetering.
“Wanna ride the zip line into the woods? I can show you a few tricks Grampi taught me when I was your age.” Cora needed to do something that made her feel like a winner. And, frankly, so did I.
“What kind of things?”
I grabbed the chains of her swing as the arc brought her closer to me and said in a lowered voice, “Like how to start a fire?”
A fire pit with stone seats marked the halfway point on the trail.
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “I’m not allowed to play with matches.”
I let go of the swing and gave her a push. “Who said anything about matches? I’ll teach you old-school.”
Cora jumped off the swing and landed on her feet like a cat. She spun to face me. “Okay, teach me.”
This kid and her spirit! We made our way over to the zip line ladder. And by zip line, I was talking about thirty-five yards and no more than six feet off the ground with a large sandy pit underneath to catch the fallers. Zippers had two travel options. Hang onto the handlebars and away you go. Or sit on a set of handlebars with a center bar to lean into for support and a second pair of handlebars to grip. The zip line ended on a platform and made getting off the line easy. I fitted Cora with the bar between her legs and told her how to hop off when she got to the end.
“You set?” I asked.
She nodded.
I hesitated before making my offer. “We can walk to the trail, too. If you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” she said. “I was looking at that guy over there. You said I should always pay attention to the people around me, and he’s been watching us.”
I scanned the space in front of us. “What man?”
“At your six,” she said, likely repeating what she heard from TV.
From a kid who didn’t know how to tell time I found this adorable. “My six is behind us.”
“Over there,” she said and pointed.
I followed her finger to my nine where I caught the flash of a man in a bright blue ball cap step behind the tree line. “When did you notice him?”
She shrugged. Another hard question for a kiddo with no time concept. I said, “Was it when we were on the merry-go-round or the slides?”
“Slides,” she said. “Right before the swings.”
Ten minutes ago.
“Was he with a kid?”
She shrugged again, so I let it go. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled. Tell me if you see him again. Ready?”
She nodded.
Then, with her hands gripping the handlebars, I gave her a push.
Yes, we could have walked to the trail, but this was more fun.
At the end of the line, I led Cora through the trail and pointed out various flowers and how to identify poison ivy. I loved being in the woods. Rachel didn’t care for it as much as I did, and that’s why doing this with Cora felt like I was teaching her something. Giving her something maybe her dad would have had if he’d lived.
“When can we start a fire?” she asked.
I chuckled. “A fire is all about safety. You could burn the entire forest down if you don’t set it up properly. Up ahead is a fire pit, and we can practice there.”
Cora skipped ahead, notes from the theme song of her favorite TV show wafting back to me. This was what I’d tell my sister. That her child, though out of sorts to a degree, was still happy. Even though Cora’s routine had changed, she worried about her mom, and was too young to process everything that came with her situation, she felt safe enough and loved enough to sing and skip.
Cora came to an abrupt stop and began to backpedal toward me. I jogged ahead, fearing a coyote or fox might be on the trail.
“What?” I asked as I tucked her into my side.
“I thought I saw that guy again.” She pointed ahead but slightly to the left. “In the trees.”
It was possible the guy she was referring to was ahead of us on the trail. He had slipped away before we did the zip line, and other side trails fed into the main one we were on.
“Don’t worry, I got everything we need in here.” I bumped her with my backpack. Not that I thought we needed anything. Chances were high it was a day hiker like us, but I wouldn’t discount my niece’s feelings.
And having been handcuffed to a bike rack, I wouldn’t discard being unprepared for the unknown either. I now pinned a small pouch with a spare handcuff key to the inside of my waistbands.
Having been a kid who had to go through life overcoming an obstacle at every turn, I’d found my niche in the outdoors and had learned to be prepared when outdoors thanks to my dad. Now, I was prepared for criminal incidents as well.
We came around a bend in the path that opened up to the fire pit and the stone seats that circled it. Cora ran ahead to look at the pit then turned back to me, excitement sparkling in her eyes.
I held up a hand, hoping to restrain her zeal. “Okay, we first have to make sure the area is clear.” I kicked away a few branches. “We want to keep the fire contained.”
Cora did a lap around the pit moving the odd branch or twig then gave me the thumbs-up as she plopped onto a rock next to me.
“One day, I want a backpack like that,” she said in awe as I took out items from my pack. I handed her a bottle of water.
“Is this to put out the fire?”
I smiled. “It can be, yes, but I was thinking you probably needed a drink. We can use the sand and dirt around here to put out the fire.” I laid out a ferro rod and a striker and explained the role of each. “When you’re bigger, I’ll teach you how to use the ferro rod with the back of the knife because having more than one way to make a fire is essential.”
I explained the concept of tinder and kindling, and then together we built a small teepee of sticks using crushed dry leaves for tinder. “You can also use twine, dry moss, and crushed-up potato chips.”
Cora was an engaged student with anxious hands ready to try her skills with the ferro rod and striker.
“It’s not easy,” I cautioned. “It can be frustrating.” I showed her how to strike and explained how we wanted the spark to land as close to the tinder as possible. Then I handed my tools over.
Cora squealed. “This is so cool.”
“I’m glad you think so. I thought the same when I was your age.”
It took several strikes for Cora to make a spark. Then several more for her to strike and create a shower of sparks. Her small mouth was compressed tight as she worked hard.
“Patience,” I reminded her. “It gets easier with experience.”
When a spark landed, I placed my hand over hers to keep her from striking again, showed her the spark, then bent low to gently blow on the budding fire. Seconds later, it erupted into flames.
I wrapped her in a hug. “You did it!”
Cora shook her head. “My hand hurts. I don’t think I’ll be good at this.” But the smile on her face belied her worries.
“Anything worth having takes work,” I said. “Let me get a picture of you and the fire. Grampi is gonna be so proud.” With my cell phone, I took a few images. It was then I caught sight of something in the trees. An unnatural color, bright blue, standing out among the autumn foliage. I sat next to Cora and distracted her with a granola bar and gummies then removed my stun gun from my backpack. I tucked it into my back pocket.
Logic told me this guy could be exactly what I told Cora he was—a day hiker. But my spidey-senses said otherwise. Maybe it was because we were only getting glimpses of him, like a fleeting butterfly. Whereas with day hikers and park goers, paths tended to cross, and this guy wasn’t crossing. This made his actions suspicious.
Playing it cool became my game as I kept one eye searching the woods for
him and the other on Cora. She’d be bummed to have to put out her fire moments after making it, so I let her enjoy her snack while marveling in her creation. When we were done, I proposed heading to the playground. Together we tossed dirt on the fire until it was extinguished. I dumped some water on it for an extra measure.
“How do you make a fire when it’s wet?” she asked. Good question considering where we lived.
“I’ll show you that, too, when it gets wet around here. It’s the same way, the trick is finding the dry materials.”
She took my hand. “Thanks, Aunt Sam. This was awesome.”
“I think so, too.” I gave her hand a squeeze.
She stopped short. “Look, in the trees. There’s that guy.” She pointed like all children do with no concerns for subtlety.
Sure enough, ten feet from the trail was the blue hat. The man was distinguishable only by vague characteristics. He was taller than me, white, and not wearing a pack so not a day hiker.
I stepped in front of Cora, but kept us moving forward. “Hey,” I called out to him. “Can we help you? You lost?” I had my phone in one hand, ready to press the essential keys.
When the hat turned toward me, I glimpsed half a face, a shadow over the top half.
I gasped, not believing my eyes.
“Hey,” I yelled again. “You in the hat.” I grabbed Cora’s hand, and we jogged down the path toward him, me looking for a way to dart into the trees.
Blue Hat took off on a run.
I said to Cora, “It’s okay. I think I know that person.”
Her worried expression eased only slightly as we jogged down the path. If she hadn’t been with me, I would have crashed between the trees after him.
“Hey,” I yelled at him again. “I see you.” And for good measure, I added, “Don’t be a chickenshit. Come out here.”
But he didn’t, and we stayed in pursuit, albeit slow. And that’s the thing. He wasn’t speeding off either. We came around the bend that opened to the playground, and I crashed into Leo.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said. “Was just about to call you.” He gave Cora and I the once over. “You guys okay?”