“Thanks, yeah, it is. Talk to you later.”
“All right, and ’bye for now.”
I looked at the clock for the first time since I’d awakened. 1:15 a.m. That meant the intruder had broken the glass at about 1:10. He reached inside, and nearly stepped into the house, so he had committed burglary. If I hadn’t interrupted him, and he had entered my home, we would’ve had a first degree burglar on our hands. More specifically, in my handcuffs. That big word: if.
I turned on the sheriff’s radio that sat in its charger on the counter, picked up the flashlight, turned on the lights in the kitchen then went into the dark living room. I used the beam of the flashlight to study the missing glass in the door. It made me angry, to say the least. “You don’t have to pay the utility bills here. It costs a lot of money to have the furnace running non-stop,” I called out to the long-gone burglar-wannabe.
I grabbed a hooded sweatshirt, and my hiking boots, from the front entry closet, put them on, and then walked to the sliding glass door to examine the damage. There was a sharp, fist-size rock lying a few feet from the door. The burglary tool. It would take some force to break through the double pane safety glass.
I heard Ortiz announce that he was “ten-six” on the radio and saw the flash of his headlights coming through the small pane of glass in the front door. I turned on the living room lights on my way to the door. Queenie was barking upstairs when I let Ortiz in. He was holding his camera. “You’re okay?”
I nodded. “Long night for you.”
He shrugged and looked up the steps. “Your doggie’s up there?”
“Yeah, I know she’s wondering what in the world is going on. Besides compromising the scene, she’d get glass in her feet sniffing around. So you didn’t see anyone running like a bat out of hell on your way here?”
“No, you know I’d have gone after him if I had. You think it was gorilla man back for a return visit?”
“I’m guessing so. I had my flashlight on him, but he turned around, and took off so fast that all I really got was a look at his gloved hand, and boot. I’m actually hoping it was gorilla man because if it wasn’t, that means I got more than one guy taunting me.”
“Taunting you?”
“Detective Dawes’ word.”
“Breaking and attempting entry to your house goes way beyond taunting. It’s more like he’s targeting you. Or looking for something you have that he wants.”
I didn’t have an answer, so I nodded. Targeted. I was being targeted. Was it me, or something I owned that he wanted?
“Sergeant, are you really as calm as you seem?”
“No. I’m mad as hell. I feel violated. But I’m so doggone tired, plus being worried sick about Martin Geiger, that I think my nerves are shot. I know the reality of this whole thing will hit me later. Especially when we catch this guy, and find out why he’s doing this. Then maybe I’ll be able to process everything better.”
He reached over and patted my shoulder. “Let me take a look in here, and then I’ll go around back, and see what I can see.” We headed to the damaged door. “Damn, that missing glass is letting in some cold air.”
“That’s what really makes me mad. I’ll have to find something to repair it when we get done processing.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have a door-size board?” he said.
“I actually have some plywood sheets left over from a project in the garage, if you can believe that.”
“If you say so. Are you gonna call in Major Crimes, or a detective, maybe?”
“No. No sense getting them out of bed for this. We can handle it.” Smoke would be upset with me in the morning, but it was best to let him sleep.
Ortiz pulled a pair of latex gloves from his back pocket, put them on, and then pointed at the rock. “The burglar came prepared. A nice pointed quartz rock. About as effective as porcelain for breaking glass. The stupid thing about safety glass. Instead of just breaking, the whole thing shatters.”
“I know. Man.” We studied the door for a moment. “The one good thing is we’ve got a camera set up so this whole incident will be recorded.”
“That is the only good thing.” Ortiz set to work, taking photos of the door, the rock, and broken glass. He pulled out his flashlight and shined it on the doorframe, and the pieces of glass on the floor. “I’ll look on the outside, but it doesn’t look like he left any prints on the inside frame.”
“No, like I said, he was wearing gloves.”
Ortiz picked up the quartz rock and examined it. “Look at this.” He held it up so I could read the note taped to the bottom. BE GLAD YOU WEREN’T HOME. It was hand printed in block letters with a blue marker.
Be glad I wasn’t home? I felt a prickling sensation in every nerve in my body, negating what I’d said about my nerves being shot mere minutes before. Then the adrenaline kicked in, and I started running in place, and shaking my hands.
Ortiz’s eyebrows drew together, forming three crease lines in his forehead. “Sergeant?”
“Adrenaline rush.”
“Okay, I get that. Threats do that to people. Okay, tell you what. I am going to check outside, see if he left anything behind. You go look at the recording on your computer for his ugly mug.”
I nodded then went into my den office while Ortiz headed out the front door. My fingers were still twitching when I sat down in front of the computer, and accessed the camera’s recording. Then it dawned on me, why hadn’t the Communications officers picked it up? I phoned Steph and asked her.
“I am so sorry, Sergeant, I’m not sure how we missed it. And I honestly didn’t think of it when you called to report your break-in.”
“I didn’t think of it either, until now. The action is likely less than sixty seconds. Go back to the time I called, and make sure it recorded properly.”
“Will do, and again, I’m so sorry. We had a few other calls about that same time. But still.”
“Don’t worry about it, Steph.”
“Umm, there is a problem. The monitor was turned off. I can’t imagine how that would have happened, or why we didn’t notice.”
Who would have turned the monitor off? Obviously, it was either an accident or someone did it on purpose. But who? “Okay. Well, that’s a whole different matter. Turn it on and check to make sure you’re getting the feed. Call me if you aren’t.”
I hung up more baffled and unsettled. “Someone’s breaking into my house but Communications doesn’t see it because someone had turned the computer monitor off.”
Ortiz appeared in the doorway. “Are you talking to yourself?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I do it all the time.”
When I told him what had happened, he shook his head. “The cards have been stacked against you on this whole deal tonight, that’s for sure.”
“Find anything outside?”
“No. I was hoping there were some burglary tools, an article of clothing, something with his fingerprints. Maybe like his driver’s license fell out of his pocket. But no, nothing.”
I smiled at his evidence wish list. “Let’s take a look at the tape.” I rewound back to 1:00 a.m., and the tape activated at 1:12. A man, who looked to have a husky build, wearing a puffy jacket and ski mask, came into view from the south side of my house. He moved quickly up the steps, giving the impression he was fairly young. And that he had been there before.
When he was on the deck, he went directly to the locked side of the door. He raised his right arm, his hand cupped around what we knew was the rock, and delivered a swift, hard blow against the glass. It broke immediately, shattering into thousands of pieces. He grabbed the doorjamb with his left hand for support, and lifted his foot. That’s when my flashlight’s beam appeared and sent him running. He headed back the same direction he had come from.
“Should have known he’d have his face covered. Recognize anything about him?” I asked.
“No. He’s the height of about half the guys in the county. And with that ja
cket on, it’s hard to guess his weight. Most likely it’s your gorilla man.”
“Looks like it to me, too. The way he moves. You know, I was hoping when we circulated the pictures of gorilla man’s hands that somebody would’ve known who it was.”
“We’ll catch him.” Ortiz tapped my shoulder. “Let’s go fix your door, and clean up that glass mess.”
After Ortiz had left with the photos, and main piece of evidence—the quartz rock with its veiled threat taped to the bottom, I let Queenie out of her locked quarters. She ran downstairs and sniffed from the front door to the back. I’d swept up, and then vacuumed the glass shards. Ortiz had helped me secure plywood over the door, which would suffice until I got the glass replaced during normal business hours, about five hours away. I really needed to talk to Smoke, or Grandma, or Sara, but didn’t want to phone any of them at 3:00 in the morning. Ortiz had offered to stop back when his shift finally ended, but there was no need.
The rock message had read, “Be glad you weren’t home,” which told me the intruder believed I was gone. Smoke had alluded to that earlier. Either the man had seen me leave in my GTO, but didn’t see Smoke drop me off again, or he’d looked in my garage window, and saw that both the squad car and my personal car were gone. I felt better knowing he was a coward.
On the one hand, everything he was doing was behind my back, and undercover. On the other hand, breaking into my house meant he was escalating with the crimes he was committing.
What was he planning to do in my house? Pee on the walls, steal something, wreck my computer, knock a hole in a wall? Maybe he was working up the courage to eventually confront me. But for what purpose? Because he blamed me for killing his friend? Something about that still didn’t make sense. I had some experience with people who suffered from psychological disorders and disturbances, but that was not my area of expertise.
Gorilla man’s attempted break-in made me feel less secure about leaving my house unattended. Ever. That would mean 24-7 security until he was caught. I closed the blinds on the sliding glass door, and turned off all the lights, except one above the kitchen sink.
I picked up my afghan from its place in the den office, carried it to living room, and pulled it over me as I lay down on the couch. Having the blanket Grandma Brandt had lovingly crocheted for me never failed to comfort me. At least it helped, as I kept my eyes glued on the sliding glass door. My service weapon and flashlight were on the coffee table a foot away. I picked them up and laid them on my chest.
Queenie watched my every move from several feet away. She was no doubt wondering about the major upset to our usual routine. “It okay, girl, we’ll be spending the rest of the night here for a change.” I patted the side of the couch. “You come and lie down.” She let out a little whimper then took her place on the floor near my head.
I didn’t think I’d sleep a wink, but the last thing I remembered was thinking, “Where are you, Martin?” And the next thing I knew my cell phone was ringing. I found it in the pocket of my hooded sweatshirt. I squinted to read the dial. It was 8:35, and Smoke was calling from his office phone. I sat up and scratched Queenie’s head.
“Morning.”
“Why in the world—”
“Don’t yell at me, Elton.”
It took him some seconds to respond. “Corinne . . . I’ve got Ortiz’s report in my hands and I needed to know you’re all right.”
“Truthfully, I’ve kind of gone into emotional shutdown. Not like after Eric died, not that bad. But to think some crazy guy is targeting me when we’ve got all these major things happening with our cases. It’s hard to sort it all out.” I threw back the afghan, got off the couch, and walked to the front door to let Queenie out. She ran out to do her business, and I headed to the kitchen to make coffee.
“Which is why you’re wise having a psychologist to talk to. Maybe you should back off at work until we nail down who gorilla man is, and arrest him. It should lessen your stress a bit.”
“What would lessen my stress is shutting down Champ’s and Fletch’s operation, and bringing them to justice. Finding Martin, and figuring out who Maisa is, and solving the Hueber boy mystery. I can’t turn my back on them now.”
“Stopping gorilla man and uncovering your phone caller’s identity, if it’s a different person, will settle my nerves considerably.”
I added water and grounds to the coffeemaker and turned it on. “He thought I was gone for the night. You were right on about that. He’s a coward who’s trying to scare me.”
“I can tell you he’s got me scared, half to death. Sheriff Twardy call you yet?”
“No, I was planning to call you, and the sheriff, and my mother early this morning, but I slept in instead.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Twardy shows up at your house. I’ve got an appointment with a witness on that meth case at nine, or I’d be there myself.”
I needed to tell my mother before she heard about it from the sheriff. Then she’d know right off the bat I wasn’t dead. “Man. Well, I better get dressed before any visitors arrive.”
“I haven’t seen last night’s tape, but I understand you need a new door, sooner rather than later.”
Queenie barked at the front door, so I let her in then turned to look at my plywood-covered door. “I’ll call the lumberyard and make the repair arrangements. But first I need to know, how is Juergen Dettweiller doing? And Eliso.”
“I called the hospital a while ago, and the nurse said Dettweiller is still groggy, so she thought it’d be better if we talk to him this afternoon.”
“What time are you planning to do that?”
“Right after lunch. Twelve thirty.”
“Good. I’ll have Mom give me a ride to pick up the GTO. I’ll park it in my garage then get Gramps’ car for the day. And what about interviewing Eliso?”
“Haven’t checked yet about an interpreter. Next on my list, after I view the tape.”
“All right. But where is Martin?”
“I wish I knew.”
“I’m really worried Champ’s men got to him. He knows my number, and he’d call if he could.” I wandered from room to room while we talked.
“Keep praying. Edberg’s stationed near Champ’s business and, is going in with his, ‘I’m lonely and need a wife’ story today. Levasseur was the area deputy last night, so Edberg asked him to swing by the real estate office every half hour or so, which he did, but spotted no activity. If they grabbed Martin, it doesn’t appear that they took him there.”
“I’m glad Edberg will be visiting Champ. It’ll help having more evidence to support a search warrant. And with Juergen’s and Eliso’s testimony, it seems like showdown time is right around the corner.”
“Yup.”
“I better call the sheriff, and my mother, before they show up on my doorstep. Talk to you later, Detective.”
“That’s a given.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Corinne, nice to hear from you, dear.” She had not yet heard. Thank you for that, Sheriff Twardy. “What are your plans for your day off?”
“I have some things to take care of. You need to open your shop at ten?”
“Like always, why do you ask?” It sounded like she was washing dishes.
“I need a ride to pick up the GTO at Smoke’s house.”
“Why, what happened?”
“It’s a long story that I’ll tell you all about on the way to pick up my car.” I knew that would poke her curiosity.
“Oh my. Are you ready now?”
“Give me ten minutes, and I will be.”
“All right, dear. I’ll see you then.”
We hung up, and I ran upstairs to shower and dress. I had bathed before bed the night before, but needed to jumpstart my body. My hair was clean and I wrapped it up on top of my head with a clip then stepped under the warm blast of water for two or three minutes. I towel dried, dressed in black slacks and a light blue long-sleeve, button-down shirt, and donned my holster, gun,
and badge.
Mother was knocking at my door eight minutes later. I ran down to let her in. “You might as well have a look.”
She followed me to the sliding glass door, and gasped. “Did something heavy tip over and break it?”
“Ah, no.”
There was a knock at the front door then the sheriff popped his head inside. “Kristen, Corky?”
“Denny, we’re looking at Corinne’s door. What are you doing here?” Mother said.
Twardy walked over to join us. “The same. Came to check out the crime scene.”
“Crime scene? What are you talking about?” She looked from Denny to me, and back to Denny, with a scowl that had put the fear of God into me as a child, and still had the power to unnerve me.
I explained what had happened, and what had been happening, the past couple of weeks. Her scowl stayed plastered on her face through the entire five-minute story. “This is serious. You deal with all kinds of hoodlums, and to think that one of them did this to you makes me furious. And scared.”
“We’ve got surveillance cameras on the house, and have him on tape. We’re going to catch him, Kristen, don’t you worry.” Denny wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her closer.
“Corinne, I insist that you move out of your house until this man is thrown in jail.”
“Mother, we’re getting a plan together for around-the-clock security. So you can rest assured that I will be safe. And so will my house.”
The sheriff cleared his throat. “That’s right.” He knew nothing about it, but it was good of him to defend the plan.
“Hey, Mom, we’d better shove off so you can get to work.”
Mother didn’t appear to hear me as she stared at the duct-taped, patched damage. “Corinne, what are you going to do about your door?”
“Either replace the glass, or the door, whatever they recommend.”
She shook her head. “Heavenly days, what is next?”
The next two hours passed quickly. First, I listened to lumberyard Keith’s spiel on which door was the best one for the money, and which carpenter was the best guy to install it. I told him to handle it, and to send me the bill that I would turn over to my insurance company.
A Death in Lionel's Woods Page 23