Mind Switch (22 page)

The woman cried out, “Why in God’s name are you doing that?”

Paul yelled, “Be quiet!” and swung the man around. Facing Paul was a man in his mid 90’s displaying pure terror in his clouded cataract coated eyes. Paul, recalling Fred’s residential street, asked, “Were you on University Drive last night?”

The man said, “Hell, no, I wasn’t. I never get further than Jim’s Bar and Grill down the street. Hell, I have night blindness with maybe a little bit of daytime blindness thrown in; I never drive more than 100 yards down the road.”

The woman yelled in uncontrolled anger, “Is this the way you treat all citizens who may have had too many traffic tickets?”

Paul then asked her the relevant question which came much too late to undo his aggressive actions, “When you said he had been in trouble, is that what you meant, that he had traffic tickets?”

She said, “Of course. He would never pass a driving test so he always renews his license by mail. Every week he seems to hit some new car. I told him he’s going to be arrested if he didn’t surrender his license.”

Paul removed the handcuffs from Mr. Salvate and said sternly to the aged offender as he left the house, “Make sure you surrender that license, and you had better hope I’m not the one to ever catch you on the road!”

Yelling from her front steps, Mrs. Salvate screamed, “Police brutality! Police brutality! You’re all bullying bastards!”

Paul got into his patrol car, closing his windows to shut out the continuous cacophony of outside noise. As Paul put on his seat belt he got a call on his cell phone. If that’s Jim, why didn’t he call me on the police radio, he wondered? Jim said he had been at the airport and found the clerk who identified the person who rented the car. Paul said great, brief me when I get back to the station.

Paul was the last person Jim wanted to brief. He only called in his report because he had been directed to, now he was going to contact Fred.

And Fred would never believe what he had to tell him.

Chapter 41

Getting Fred on his cell phone, Jim said, “Fred, I have some important information that can’t wait. But instead of passing it on to you at the station I suggest that we do it over a cup of coffee, somewhere beyond the prying ears of Paul.”

Fred found the request strange and out of character for Jim, but agreed to hold the meeting at Sam’s Café.

Jim was already in a booth when Fred arrived. Jim was sipping on a cup of coffee, and another steaming cup was sitting across from him. Fred sat down and said, “Is this mine?” pointing to the coffee. He had hoped someone else laid claim to it.

Jim said, “Yes, but you might need a stiffer drink when I tell you what I just found out!”

Jim told him of his trip to the auto rental site at the airport. Fred impatiently said, “What did you find out?”

Jim paused before he told Fred what he discovered. “Well, they had a record of the person that rented the car. As you know they require a driver’s license for identification.”

“Of course I know that, what name was on the license?”

Jim paused again before he spoke, “Fred, it was your wife’s name—Maureen Harris!”

“Jim, did the clerk compare the photograph on the license with the person renting the car?”

“Yes, and the clerk insisted it was the same person. In fact, she remembered her brilliant red hair and thought she was extremely attractive. She also recalled that the woman was wearing a tan dress.”

Fred remembered clearly that Maureen had been wearing a tan dress when she went to her parent’s house. It was her favorite dress; Fred had often commented that she was going to wear it out since she had it on so often. Maureen always countered, “But I like it so much. If you loved me you would buy me ten more just like it.”

Jim continued, “I got a copy of the license plate number on the Ford. I put an all points out, I knew you would agree.”

Fred conceded, “I do, but I want you to check the rental company and see if we can get a video with Maureen in it.”

Jim said incredulously, “You mean with all this evidence you don’t believe it was Maureen?”

“Of course I do, but I also believe someone was directing her or influencing her to rent that car! The video might show us who it was.” Fred couldn’t believe how much he was now relying on video surveillance cameras. Thank God, I wasn’t born fifty years ago before video technology had been invented, he thought.

“Will do,” Jim said and took off.

* * *

Within an hour Jim conveyed bad news to Fred. “Fred, there were video cameras all over the airport but unfortunately none are near the rental companies.”

“That’s just great,” Fred said in total frustration. “I guess we’re just going to have to locate her via the all-points.”

Fred finally went home after an enervating sixteen hours at the office. As he turned the corner onto his street, his headlights picked up a stationary figure lurking near the shrubbery on the side of his house. Fred wasn’t really sure that he had seen anything; fatigue had set in over two hours ago and the weariness he was experiencing had made it difficult for him even to complete his short journey home.

Not willing to take any chances, he passed by his house without slowing down, took two rights, extinguished his headlights and parked his car on the street directly behind his residence. He turned off his door light, exited his car, and moved cautiously, hugging the dark side of his neighbor’s house. A chain link fence separated the two backyards. Fred angled his approach towards the side of his house opposite from where he thought he saw the intruder. He bolted over the short fence, crouching as his feet silently touched the soft grass of his backyard. Gradually he moved toward the side of the house where he thought the intruder was lurking.

He turned at the corner of his house, although he could detect no moment, he was sure he saw a dark figure whose features had been blurred by the evening mist. Then he saw him! Fortunately, the intruder did not see Fred; he seemed to be focused intently on the driveway with the likely expectation that Fred would arrive from that direction. Fred thought first about using his pistol, directing the man to put his hands up. That was a conventional police tactic, but Fred feared that a shootout might ensue. Fred wanted this guy alive, at all cost, to determine the whereabouts of Maureen. He decided a surprise attack was his best option.

Fred sprinted toward the man. The damp soft grass absorbed the sound of his advancing footsteps. In less than a second Fred was on him, hitting him from behind with all the force he could muster. As Fred struck the man he simultaneously issued a karate chop to the man’s left wrist dislodging his weapon. Fred was partially paralyzed from the impact which had re-cracked the slow healing fractures in his chest wall. Fortunately, the man had also been momentarily incapacitated by the unexpected sudden impact. In the darkness the man unsteadily felt for the fallen gun. In those precious seconds, Fred was able to regain his breath; and with all his remaining strength he struck the intruder once again, this time in the side of his rib cage. A shrill scream provided clear evidence that Fred’s fist had done its job. But at that moment Fred realized something was wrong, something was very wrong.

The voice he detected beneath the painful shriek was that of a woman, he was sure of it. In the darkness he had no idea of the gender of his antagonist, but had assumed all along it was a man. That realization notwithstanding, he followed standard police training and put his knee in her back while simultaneously pulling her arms and hands together. He cuffed her. Pausing to get a second wind, he pulled her to her feet and dragged her toward the street light in the front of his house. When he looked at her face, he couldn’t believe his eyes – he had just tackled and handcuffed Maureen!

Totally beyond his control, tears sprang from Fred’s eyes. He was indescribably happy to see Maureen. A short time ago he had virtually given her up for dead; but now she was standing in front of him alive, admittedly somewhat the worse for the injury he had just inflicted on her. He pulled her into his arms hugging her as had never before. When she didn’t respond he wondered what was wrong; then he realized she was still handcuffed. He removed her handcuffs, and taking her hand, he led her up the front steps. To the left of his front door, he opened an aluminum metal box entering a code to deactivate the recently installed alarm system.

His pure joy in seeing her alive temporarily obliterated his memory of the fact that she just a short time ago had been stalking him outside the house. When he suddenly realized what she had been doing, he consciously decided to ignore it, at least for this precious moment. They sat on the living room couch and softly kissed each other carefully, both ensuring not to do anything to reactive the intense pain they had both incurred just a few minutes ago.

Fred decided not to immediately ask about the events that had transpired from the period since Maureen had left her parents in Tampa. Maureen said, “I’m sorry, but I’ve just got to go to the bathroom.”

While Maureen was out of the room and out of hearing distance, he called her stepfather to let him know she was all right, but added hat she could not speak with him this evening.

Her father indicated he understood and said, “Just give her our love,” and hung up.

When they went to bed that night they made love, a subdued, soft love. Each movement, each thrust, activated an intense pain from all segments of his damaged body.

* * *

Fred spent a restless night, his sleep constantly interrupted with terrifying dreams of Maureen holding a pistol to his face while he was sleeping and squeezing the trigger when he opened his eyes. Each time, when he woke up from his nightmarish dreams, he observed that Maureen was sleeping peacefully as if she didn’t have a problem in the world.

The next morning Fred arose to the aromatic smell of bacon and eggs. He was exhausted. He got up, put on his robe and slowly descended the hall stairs to the kitchen.
 

Maureen said, “There you are, sleepy head,” as she placed a plate of bacon and eggs on the table in front of him. Strangely, after all she had been through, she was in her typical upbeat mood and acting as if the past three days had never happened. Fred was silent during breakfast, mentally trying to compose how he would ask Maureen about what had happened during her prolonged absence.

As he finished his last sip of bitter coffee he confronted her. Looking into her eyes, he said, “Maureen, we have to talk and we have to talk now.”

She compliantly said, “Ok, what about”?

Fred said “You know—where have you been? What happened to you during your absence?”

Maureen wore a quizzical look as if his question made no sense. She said, “You mean during the cruise?”

Fred was speechless; they both knew she never went on the cruise.

Fred said, “Come on, Maureen, I know you left your parents’ house, and you never went on any cruise.”

Maureen’s attitude remained unperturbed, “Of course I did, and it was a great cruise, I wish you could have come with us.”

Fred had no idea how to continue the conversation; it was as if they were living in two different universes. He said, “Maureen, look, please stop playing games with me. Your father told me you missed the cruise, you disappeared for three days, and your car was abandoned near the Sarasota-Bradenton Airport. Last night you tried to …” He could not finish the sentence.

Maureen said, “What are you talking about? I
have
been on a cruise!”

Fred was mystified at Maureen’s denial. He looked into her eyes. He always had the ability to determine if she was serious, joking or lying; her eyes always told the absolute truth. In an instant he knew she was serious; she was telling the truth as she knew it. Fred felt that no matter what he told her about the reality of the last few days, it would not resonate; he decided the best course of action was to get Maureen on the phone with her parents. When her stepfather answered the phone, Fred said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you in any detail last night, but Maureen is well.” Her father sighed in audible relief.

After a second had passed, Fred said, “Before we continue I have to ask you a strange question. I have Maureen on the phone with me. Please answer me so that Maureen can hear your response. Was Maureen on a cruise with you during the last few days?”

“Fred, is this some kind of a joke?!”

”No, just please, please answer the question.”

Finally her father answered emphatically, “No, of course not!”

Maureen gasped but said nothing.

Fred said, “I will definitely get back to you to explain this, but don’t worry. Maureen is fine; we just have some … complex issues to get resolved. I promise I will get back to you,” Fred said as he hung up.

For the next hour Fred explained to Maureen all that he knew about her missing three days. He never mentioned that she tried to kill him; he just couldn’t pass on to the woman he loved that type of information.

Maureen said, “Tell me, do you think I’m crazy?”

“No, not at all, but I have to ask you a question. What do you remember about Harry Ford, the hypnotist?”

Maureen, still in a highly unsettled emotional state, said, “What the hell does that have to do with my recent behavior?”