Eye of the Abductor (28 page)

The door had a small rectangular window at the top with vertical
bars positioned across it. When the door opened, Brance glanced up.

A tall, thin black man, wearing cuffs and shackles, dressed in
prison orange entered the room with a guard beside him. He walked to the
opposite side of the table and sat when the chair was pulled out for him.

The officer glanced across at Brance. “I’ll be just outside the
door.”

Brance gave the guard a nod, then sat across from the prisoner.

Jarmal stared at him with cold, suspicious eyes.

Brance cleared his throat and leaned forward, resting his elbows
on the table. “I need some information on Rob Wilson and the drug scam you had
going with him.”

“Hey, bro. I’ve said all I’m gonna about Wilson. I don’t need no
more funk, man.”

Brance decided to approach it from a different angle. “What about
Wilson's wife? He testified she was involved, but you never mentioned her.”

“Wasn’t asked to.”

“Did she willingly and knowingly participate in the operation?”

“What do I get for talkin’?”

“Nothing. This isn’t an official investigation. I am a Bartlett
policeman, not Memphis. I’m in no position to make deals. The best I can offer
is revenge. Wilson wanted his wife out of the picture.”

“So why the interest?”

“I believe the woman is innocent, and Rob Wilson lied so she’d go
to prison. His mother ended up with their son. I want to clear Paige Wilson’s
name.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“I married her. She wants her son back. And I think her life is
in danger until she's cleared. Someone's already attacked her.”

“Think the bitch has the money?”

“No. Whose money was it?"

"We used the same crate of money for each operation. Since
the exchange had already been made, Escobar claims it. Feds got his coke
shipment, and Wilson took the cash."

"Why is everyone so sure Wilson ended up with it?"

"I saw him take it. Then he flew off to the islands. By the
time he rolled back into town, I'd done cut a deal with the prosecution, and he
was taken down.”

“There had to be someone besides his partner who knew what was
going on, someone who covered up the thefts within the police force.”

“There were others. But Wilson never mentioned their names. FBI
and Internal affairs already had an investigation going. Our party was ending.
We just didn't know it.”

Brance paused. “Was Paige Wilson knowingly involved?”

“Didn’t know his bitch, but I always had the impression she
didn’t know a damn thing. You talked to Reed? He’d know the jib of it all.”

“No, but I plan to.”

Johnson cracked his knuckles and met Brance’s gaze. “I might be
in here, but I still keep the lines open with my people. It’s not my cuzzes
that’s going after Wilson’s old lady.”

He left the prison and returned to the precinct. At his desk, he
pulled up all he could find on the case involving Wilson. He couldn't find one
clue in any of the reports. He glanced at the clock. He hadn’t intended on
staying so long and left.

During the drive home, Brance thought about moving to the new
house. The sooner the better. He couldn’t get close to Allison unless they were
under the same roof.

By the time he’d returned home, Allison’s lights were out. He
hurried upstairs and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. On his way to his
surveillance point, he stopped by McDonald’s since he hadn't eaten dinner.

***

At the Westbrook subdivision, he parked behind a car across from
a large house with thousands of twinkling lights and decorations. The other
houses surrounding it were also overdone. Probably pulling enough electric
juice to light a small city.        

The Grinch had hit this area several times already.

Brance arranged his food on his lap. Then he ate and waited.

Silence surrounded him.

It didn’t take long for the heat inside Brance's car to be
replaced with the icy chill of the December air, but starting the engine might
scare off the Grinch. He’d tough it out and remember next time to bring a
heavier jacket.

His fries had cooled. He shoved them back in the bag, finished
off his burger and gulped down his coffee.

He couldn’t help but think about the pharmacy case. Too bad his
plan hadn’t worked. Why in the hell hadn’t it? He had everyone working
overtime.

Damn if the perps didn’t switch times on him. Why? How could they
have known about the extra manpower? Someone had tipped them off. Then he
realized they'd never checked into which Safety First employee had switched
from the morning shift to an evening shift during those robberies.

By midnight, he’d had enough. Some of the lights on automatic
timers had gone out. It looked like the Grinch was a no-show.

As he reached for the ignition, a shiny new truck cruised slowly
through the neighborhood. The vehicle parked at the side of the house that had
thousands of blinking lights and yard decorations.

A white male left the cab, hurried across the yard, and ripped
the lights from the shrubs. Then he grabbed a large Santa along with several
elves and carried everything to his truck. The only thing he left untouched was
a nativity scene.

The man was apparently two beers short of a six pack, so Brance
called dispatch for backup. He stepped from his car, leaving the door open to
prevent making any noise.

The man stayed preoccupied with stripping the yard, so Brance
crept across the street and eased up behind him.

“Police! Drop the reindeer and put your hands over your head.
You’re under arrest for stealing Santa and his eight tiny reindeer.”

When Brance thought about what he said, he wanted to laugh out
loud, but he stayed serious.

The man dropped the twinkling reindeer to the ground.

“Now turn around. Keep your hands over your head and drop to your
knees.”

A police car pulled up to the curb. Of all the uniforms, it had
to be Randy.

He shifted his full attention to the thief. “Do you have a
weapon?”

“No, sir.”

“You have any ID on you?”

“In my wallet.”

The man started to lower his hands.

Brance stopped him. “Hands back on your head. I’ll get it.”

“Please let me go. I won’t do this anymore. I have a wife and
three kids with another on the way.”

“Why does one man need so many Christmas decorations?”

The man didn’t answer.

Brance dug through his wallet and found his license. “David
Hoffman.”

Randy stopped beside him.

Brance exhaled a tired, frustrated breath. This wasn’t exactly
the kind of police work he had in mind when he’d joined the force. “I caught
Mr. Hoffman red-handed. He actually lives a few streets over.”

“So this is the Grinch.”

The man’s eyes flashed anger. “I’m not a Grinch. I do it to save
Christmas. This isn’t right. These people spend hundreds on superficial
decorations; money that could’ve been given to homeless shelters. Christmas was
never meant to be like this. It should be holy not tacky.”

“Tell it to the judge,” Brance said, but he agreed with Mr.
Hoffman.

The interior lights in the house flicked on, and the owner came
outside. Brance explained what was going on, then had to hold the outraged
homeowner back to protect the burglar.

After reading the Grinch his rights, Brance turned to Randy.
“Take him in, would you? I’ll get this homeowner to sign a few papers.”

Randy reached for the Grinch. “Sure, no problem.”

“Will I be able to call my lawyer?” Hoffman asked.

“You bet,” Brance replied. “First thing in the morning. Then
you’ll have a bond hearing before Judge Tanner. Right now I’m calling a tow
truck to haul your vehicle away."

“At least let me call my wife and explain.”

“I’ll give her a call.” Brance followed them to the rear of
Randy’s squad car and waited while the Grinch was secured in back. Afterwards,
he faced Randy. “Meet you at the station.”

After processing the prisoner and completing the report, Brance
decided to leave. Randy waited at the door. “That man cried like a baby all the
way here.”

“He has a lot to lose.”

“So do you, man. What about your reputation? We all know why they
took the pharmacy case from you. The command staff is gunning for you.”

Brance ran his hands through his hair as he thought about his
career. Had his inspector or the chief been trying to prove a point by yanking
the pharmacy case out from under him and giving him a case that seemed like
something Mayberry's Barney Fife would be handling?

It was almost four A.M. when Brance climbed in bed.

***

Carla glanced at the digital clock, four A.M. and Dillon still
hadn’t returned home. He’d been staying out at night and was always unwilling
to discuss it. At least he hadn’t hidden behind his job and made some erroneous
claim that he was on an assignment.

Around five, she heard someone moving about downstairs. She
scooted out of bed, slipped on her robe and slippers, and hurried to the
kitchen. Dillon stood at the counter, making coffee.

“Where were you?” Not that she expected him to tell her.

“Playing poker. After our shift, Tony, Eddie, and I drove down to
Tunica.”

“Got proof?” she asked, after noticing him squinting his eyes
slightly. A trait he did when lying.

He grinned like the devil, then pulled his wallet from his back
pocket. He tossed five hundred dollars on the table. “Proof enough?”

She swallowed back her comment. She didn’t believe him. “Why
didn’t you call? Better yet, why’d you turn off your phone?”

“I didn’t want my concentration to slip.”

She waltzed over to the counter and picked up the cash. “We could
use some new towels and sheets.”

“Five hundred dollars for towels and sheets?”

“I’ll pick up the kids some new clothes, and I need to buy Brance
and Allison a wedding present.”

“Like hell. Not with my money you don’t. I don’t owe the
son-of-a-bitch anything. He’s not even my brother.”

“He’s your half-brother. You share the same blood.”

“He’s not my father’s son. That’s all that matters.”

“No, but he’s your mother’s.”

“He doesn’t have the right to call himself Stone. The bastard
should use Mom’s maiden name. Brance O’Kelly. Has a nice ring to it. Don’t you
think?”

I think you’re an ass.

After Dillon swigged down another cup of coffee, showered, and
left for work, she went online to view their savings account information. He
had withdrawn seven hundred dollars the previous afternoon. The five hundred
hadn’t come from gambling. It was money left over from his evening out.

Later that morning, she called her sister and asked her to baby
sit the next evening. She planned to see what her husband did after his night shift.

***

Allison made sure the jeep and Crown Victoria were parked in the
lot before hurrying up the steps to Brance’s apartment and knocking on his
door. Again, she knocked. Finally, someone stirred inside. The lock clicked,
and the door opened slightly.

“Close the door behind you.”

She entered, then grinned. "You look like hell."

He turned and trudged toward his bedroom much like one would
expect a zombie to walk. This was a naked zombie, with a partial hard on. The
sight of him created an aching sensual hunger. The man was so desirable, even
half asleep. She followed close behind him. He collapsed in bed and wrapped up in
his covers.

“Good morning to you too.”

He mumbled something unrecognizable but kept his eyes closed.

“Tammy must’ve worn you out.”

His eyes snapped open. He sat up and scowled. “If my wife would
hop in bed with me, she wouldn’t have to imagine who I’ve been spending my time
with.”

“So where were you?”

“On the job.” He closed his eyes again. “Saving Christmas,” he
mumbled.

“You caught the Grinch?”

“Yep, and guess what?”

“What?”

“He’s not green.”

“No kidding? I’m disappointed. Did he have a dog named Max?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure you’ve got the right man?”

“Caught him red-handed with Rudolph in his hands. And I witnessed
him dragging Santa back to his truck.”

Allison laughed. “Oh, Brance. I shouldn’t make light of it, but
it’s hilarious. Don’t you think?”

“A riot. Still think I was with Tammy?”

“Not really. It’s just that you’d been angry with me, and I
thought you regretted being tied down. When you didn’t come home, I just jumped
at the first conclusion that came to mind.”

“Allison, I want you in my bed every night. I had hoped you’d
want me as much. Before you jump to anymore conclusions, remember you’re the
only woman I want.”

She stood dumfounded. Brance seemed sincere. Still her heart
hardened, refusing to even consider her feelings for him.

He slipped on boxers. “I talked to Jarmal Johnson yesterday.” He
shared the main points of their conversation. “Now I need to drive over to
Forrest City and talk to Reed.”

“What good would it do?”

"Get you exonerated. If you’re cleared, there isn’t a judge
around who wouldn’t give you custody of Nathan. As it stands now, they might
let the Wilsons keep him. We can't chance that.”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt to hear what Reed has to say.”

“Shouldn’t.” He put on a long sleeve shirt and a pair of faded
jeans. “Let’s go eat breakfast.”

Her stomach growled before she had a chance to answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said and gently placed his hand on
her elbow and guided her from the bedroom. “I’ll be down as soon as I shave and
brush my teeth.”

***

On the way to the restaurant, Brance drove by their new home and
parked out front. “It’s a great house.”

“Absolutely wonderful. I doubt we’ll have enough furniture to fill
it.”