Sandman (25 page)

“I’ll be up in a minute, now go.” He swatted her behind, then cringed at the familiarity of the act. As soon as she was out of sight, he picked up the phone.

They drove up the coast to Newport Beach. He kept an eye on the rearview mirror to make sure they weren’t being followed. As an added precaution, he got off PCH several blocks after their turn and took a lot of side streets. When he was satisfied they were indeed alone, he doubled back and made his way to a sleepy little bed-and-breakfast he knew.

They took a private tree-lined road up a hill and drove between two statues of lions on either side of a driveway. Meagan stared as a huge French villa covered in vines, came into view. It sat alone on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

When they entered through the giant door, Meagan felt as if she’d jumped back in time. She found herself standing in the foyer of a beautiful mansion. The floors were an effervescent hardwood that gleamed in the soft light.

 Above her hung a dramatic crystal chandelier, before her a wide sweeping staircase with a floral runner in deep hues flowing up to the second floor then split in opposite directions. The walls surrounding the foyer were lined with flickering sconces as if lit by candles, but at closer inspection, cased bulbs for modern day convenience. The chandelier was dimmed for the hour.

Thomas rang the bell at the desk and checked them in while she ogled the decor.

“This is breathtaking.” Meagan brushed her hand along the ornate banister.

Thomas carried the bags up the stairs, while Meagan lagged behind, inspecting the remarkable paintings along the wall. He’d stopped at the end of the hall and slipped the keycard into the lock. He pushed the door open to allow Meagan to enter first.

She found herself standing in an elaborate sitting room with dark wood furniture and a large bouquet of fresh flowers resting on a claw foot table in the center of the room. She spun around taking in her lavish surroundings. To her left the bedroom. It too contained a floral arrangement, next to the bed stood an ice bucket, with champagne, two crystal flutes sat on the nightstand next to it. A giant king-sized bed filled the room, a fireplace sat at the foot.

“All they had left was the honeymoon suite,” he said by way of an explanation.

Meagan turned when he spoke. He dropped his bag on the floor, then took hers into the bedroom. She twirled around and her eyes came to rest on the French doors that led out to the balcony. She ran over and opened the doors. Her eyes closed as she felt the cool ocean breeze wash over her.

Meagan took a deep breath.

“Jesus, close that thing. It’s freezing out there!” Thomas complained.

Meagan rolled her eyes and did as he asked, making her way out onto the balcony. She leaned over the railing and looked down at the tempestuous sea as it pummeled the cliff below. It was only a couple of minutes before she rushed back in, her arms wrapped tightly around her. After securing the double doors, she noticed Thomas exiting the bedroom with a pillow.

“You can have the bed. I’ll take the couch,” he said. He tossed the pillow to one end, and lay down, shifting his body back and forth trying to get comfortable.

“I wouldn’t hear of it…”Meagan disappeared into the bedroom.

Thomas’ head rose and he followed her with his eyes. She couldn’t possibly mean what he
thought
she meant.

She reappeared a moment later.

“Not without a blanket.” She finished the sentence with a wide, toothy grin, and dropped the blanket on Thomas’s stomach. She turned back and exited the room.

“Good night!” she called cheerily over her shoulder.

“Good night,” he grumbled. His head flopped back down on the pillow as he watched the doors close behind her.

FORTY

Meagan awoke to the sound of voices murmuring in the other room. She couldn’t imagine whom Thomas was talking to. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and reached for her robe. When she opened the double doors, she spied Thomas sitting next to Fawn on the couch. She was running her finger down a sheet of paper and speaking in a hushed tone. Paperwork littered the top of the coffee table before them.

Fawn was the first to notice her. “Good morning.” She smiled.

Thomas’ head came up and he smiled broadly.

“Good morning,” Meagan said. Not feeling quite awake, she rubbed her eyes and looked around.

“Good morning. We have coffee if you’d like some. How did you sleep?”

“Okay, I guess.” Meagan flicked a look at one detective, and then the other, trying to figure out what was going on, then she tried to read the papers on the table upside down.

Fawn noticed and started scooping them up.

“We have somewhere we need to be today, so I’m going to leave you in the capable hands of Officer Cooper.” Thomas glanced at his watch, then back up at Meagan. “He should be here any minute now.”

Meagan frowned. The thought of sitting in these close quarters with yet another stranger made her feel uncomfortable.

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked her.

Meagan noticed she’d been staring off into space and focused on him. “Yeah, sure. Just not awake yet. I need my coffee.” She smiled at him and made her way over to the coffee service on the sideboard. Without another word, she headed out onto the balcony. She couldn’t wait to enjoy her coffee while she gazed out at the sea.

The minute the doors closed behind Meagan, Shadowhawk resumed her explanation of what she found in Meagan’s phone records.

“We have the names and addresses for most of the numbers. These come from friends, family and some clients.” Shadowhawk’s finger slid down the page. “I’ve looked into each number individually and they all check out. Then we have these here.”

She pointed to some numbers highlighted in yellow. “All of these came from phone booths starting in northern California and ending down here in San Juan Capistrano.” The last number was highlighted in orange. She looked expectantly at Thomas.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Shadowhawk jumped up to let Cooper in, and Thomas brought him up to date. He collected the phone records and placed them into his briefcase. By the time they were ready to go, Meagan was still out on the balcony.

Thomas walked over to the glass doors and gazed out at Meagan. He got a knot in his stomach and realized that he didn’t want to leave. He took a deep breath, strolled out onto the balcony, and came to rest at the banister before he turned around.

He looked down at Meagan. “Cooper’s here. We’re going to be taking off.” He had to speak loudly to be heard over the cries of the seagulls.

Meagan put her cup down on the table beside her and glanced up at him. “But it’s Saturday. I didn’t think you’d have to work today.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have that kind of job.” He noticed he was wringing his hands, and shoved them in his pockets.

“Can you at least tell me where you’re going?”

“I’m afraid not. I’ll fill you in tonight.”

“I’m part of this investigation too, you know. Or did you forget?” Her eyes implored him.

“No, I haven’t forgotten, but we can’t talk about it right now.” She looked so forlorn that it about broke his heart. He didn’t like keeping things from her. But he had to play things close to the vest right now. He couldn’t trust her; she’d proven that already.

When Meagan remained quiet, he said, “I’ll see you tonight.” Then he started toward the door. He’d just reached out for the handle.

“Wait!”

He turned back. Meagan jumped up and ran to him. She gazed up into his eyes and his heart did a little dance. She dipped her head down and made a pretense of straightening his tie.

“Be careful,” she said to his chest, then her eyes locked on his once more. She rose up on her tiptoes, and grazed his lips with her own.

“Make sure you
do
come back tonight.” She stepped back.

He was stunned into silence. He wanted to grab her, to kiss her. A real kiss. A kiss that would get her attention, and keep her from thinking of that Jackson character ever again.

Instead he just nodded and left.

The detectives drove north heading for the freeway.

“The APB hasn’t turned up anything on Jackson yet, and the number Meagan gave me is a prepaid cell phone. There’s no way to trace it. He could be anywhere between here and L.A. Johnson got the number to the hotel where the band is staying.

“I’ve called several times since last night with no luck. When I phoned the recording studio, I found out the band is due in there around ten this morning. I contacted the West L.A. Sheriff’s Department to let them know about the arrest since it’s in their jurisdiction. I don’t want to be stepping on anyone’s toes here,” Thomas said, staring straight ahead.

They sped up the freeway toward the City of Angels. Thomas was glad this thing was almost over. He wondered how Meagan would take the news that her new
boyfriend
was a serial killer. She’d probably still be in serious denial. Not only was he the only one who knew where she’d been staying, but all the band’s play dates coincided with the disappearances of each girl.

The Humboldt County Sheriff’s Department was searching his residence in Eureka right now. Thomas was certain they would uncover some serious evidence that would tie the case up tight.

They walked off the elevator that opened up to the recording studio around nine-thirty. Thomas introduced them to the receptionist and asked if they could speak with Drew Jackson. He simply told her they needed to question him regarding a case they were working on. The young girl stated that although some of the band members were already waiting in the studio, that Mr. Jackson was not one of them. He had yet to arrive.

Thomas and Shadowhawk sat in the lobby and waited. Ten o’clock came and went, still no sign of Jackson.

“Do you think he knows we’re on to him?” Shadowhawk asked, looking at her watch.

“That’s not possible. Just wait, he’ll be here.”

“Yeah, well, the rest of the band has shown up.” She countered.

Thomas didn’t say a word.

Forty-five minutes later, the elevator doors opened and Jackson rolled in. His red eyes carried a pair of matching luggage underneath. He’d obviously not been sleeping much of late.

The detectives stood and faced him.

Thomas started reading him his rights, as Shadowhawk cuffed his hands behind his back. The receptionist was on the phone immediately. Before they were out the door, a man came rushing from the back, yelling.

“What are you doing? Where are you taking him? You can’t
do
this, we have a recording session!” The man stopped when he reached them, bent over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.

When neither detective answered him, he said, “At least tell me what you’re arresting him for.”

Thomas stopped halfway through the door, turned and looked the man straight in the eye. “Murder.” Then without another word they entered the elevator. When he turned back around to hit the button for
Lobby
, Thomas spied the man staring at them, his mouth wide open.

Jackson was surprisingly quiet until the elevator doors closed, then the yelling began, “What the
hell
are you talking about? I haven’t killed anybody. You’re making a
huge
mistake and you’ll pay, believe me. My lawyers will eat you for lunch!”

FORTY-ONE

Meagan had finished her coffee and was starting to get cold, so she headed back inside. Upon entering, she noticed the officer sitting on the couch reading a newspaper.

He was about six feet tall, with a large belly. She guessed he was in his mid-fifties. At the sound of the door, he put the paper down. His smile was warm. “Good morning. I’m Myron Cooper, but you can call me Coop, everybody does.” His boisterous voice took her by surprise. He stood up and reached to shake her hand.

Instantly she felt comfortable and joined him on the couch. He was extremely friendly and told her all about his wife of thirty-five years, their children and grandchildren. She couldn’t help but smile at the man’s enthusiasm. His stories of the misadventures of his kids were not only overly dramatic in the telling, but had her in stitches as well. He obviously enjoyed talking as much as she enjoyed listening.

Around two that afternoon they were sitting at the table and eating lunch. Well, she was finishing her club sandwich and fries, but Coop had been finished quite awhile. His cell phone rang, and he excused himself to answer it. Meagan listened to the one-sided conversation.

“Coop, here. Yes. Okay, you got it. Thanks.” He hung up and looked at her. “Well, little lady, it looks like you’re going home.”

Meagan stared at him in disbelief. “You mean it’s over?”

“Apparently so. Now get your gear together, and I’ll give you your own personal police escort.”

“I’ll be ready in no time, just watch me!” She squealed with excitement, then sprinted into the other room. Within minutes she was standing by the door.

“You’re sure you’re ready?”

“Yup.”

“You didn’t forget anything?”

“Nope.” She was out of breath.

On the ride to her house Meagan grilled Coop about the Sandman. Who was he? How did they catch him? But the officer didn’t know any more than she did. He told her he was sure that Detective Thomas would contact her with all the details later.

When they pulled up outside her house, Meagan saw the yellow crime scene tape and her face fell. She wondered if she’d ever feel safe in her little cottage again. As much as she loved the place, she might have to move. Too much had happened.

She unlocked the back door and walked in. When Godzilla was nowhere in sight, an inexplicable sadness overwhelmed her. She dropped her bag. The room was suddenly stifling. She started to open a window, then stopped. “You’re sure I’m safe?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head. They’ve got that guy safely tucked behind bars. Detective Thomas is probably interrogating him as we speak.”