Authors: Linwood Barclay
She thought about it. “I’d like to go to London. Or maybe Disney World?”
“I don’t think you should get your hopes up about that.”
She nodded, then thought a moment. “If it’s not safe for me here, then
it’s not safe for you here. Are you going to go on a vacation, too? Can’t we both go?”
“I’m going to stay here, but I’ll be okay. I’ll be very careful. I’m going to find out what’s going on.”
She slipped her arms around me. “My bed’s got glass on it,” she said.
“You stay here with me tonight.”
After the police had left, Kelly got into her pajamas and slipped under the covers of my bed. She nodded off fairly quickly, which surprised me, given the events of the evening. But I guessed her system was telling her to sleep, that she needed to recharge her batteries to cope with all the confusing things that were going on.
My system didn’t work that way, not after someone had taken a shot at the house. I felt a need to do regular patrols. I turned off all the lights except for one in the kitchen and a night-light in the hall outside my bedroom. I’d check in on Kelly, head downstairs, take a look at the street, go back upstairs and check on Kelly again.
Sometime around three, I was starting to feel pretty beat. I went up to my room, lay down on the bed on top of the covers next to my daughter.
I listened to her breathing. In, and out, and in, and out. So peaceful. It was the only reassuring sound I’d heard in some time.
My intention was to stay up, to maintain my watch, but sleep finally overtook me. But my eyes opened with the suddenness of a fire station door. I looked at the clock and saw that it was just after five. I got up to do another perimeter patrol and decided there was no point in going back to bed.
I did a few things around the house, dealt with a couple of bills online that I’d forgotten to pay by the due date, made a note that we were nearly out of orange juice and cereal.
This was also the morning they picked up the trash. I gathered together all the household garbage, including the handcuffs Kelly had taken from the Slocum house that I’d tucked into the drawer of my bedside table. I stuffed them way down into one of the bags, put two cans out on the street, and by seven the truck had been by and taken everything away.
Shortly after that, I had the garage door open and was doing some
tidying in there when I realized someone was standing by the front of the truck. It gave me a start.
“Morning,” Joan Mueller said. “You’re up awful early today. Most days, I don’t see you heading out until nearly eight. I guess you’re pretty shook up and all.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Did the police tell you I saw a car?”
“They did. Thank you for your help.”
“Well, I don’t know how much help I was. I didn’t see much. No license plate or anything like that. How’s Kelly?”
“Like you said, we were both pretty shook up.”
“Who’d do such a thing? Shoot at a window? You know what I think it was? I bet it was just kids goofing around. Stupid, stupid kids, you know? Would you like a coffee? I just started a pot and I’d be happy to go get you some.”
I shook my head. “I’ve got a few things to do, Joan. And you must have kids getting dropped off soon.”
“What if, and this is a huge thing to ask, but what if I brought you over a coffee when Mr. Bain drops off Carlson? Would you have any problem with that? He still kind of has me worried, that man does, and the more he gets the idea that I’ve got someone next door looking after me—and I’m not saying that’s what you’re actually doing because I sure wouldn’t want to impose or anything—the more I think he’s not going to give me a hard time about anything I might have heard his son say about his mom falling down the stairs the other day, if you get my drift. Maybe if you’re sort of standing out here at the front of your garage and when he comes you can wander over and say something like ‘Hey, where’s that coffee you promised me?’ ”
I sighed. Even without the events of the night before, I would have been exhausted.
“Sure,” I said.
I saw the red Explorer pull in to the drive about fifteen minutes later. Carl Bain, dressed in what looked like the same suit I’d seen him in the other day, came around the truck and opened the back door to free his son from the straps of the safety seat. I started walking over, looking down at the lawn as though I hadn’t even noticed him.
As we both neared the front door, I looked up and said, “Oh, hey. Morning.”
“Morning,” he said. His son said nothing.
“Just, uh … Joan told me to grab a coffee if I felt like it.” I felt like a damn fool. How had I allowed myself to be talked into this?
The door swung open and Joan stood there smiling, a mug already in her hand. “Well, if it isn’t the three strongest, handsomest men I know. Morning, Carlson! How are you today?”
The boy maintained his silence as he slipped into the house. Joan handed me my coffee. “There you go, neighbor. How are you today, Mr. Bain?”
He shrugged. “See you around six.”
“Okay then, well, you boys have a super day.” With that, Joan closed the door on both of us. Me standing there with a stupid cup of coffee as Bain started back for his Explorer.
No more
, I thought.
I won’t be dragged into this again. This has to be dealt with
.
“Hey,” I said. “Wait up.”
Bain stopped and turned. “Yeah?”
“This is … this is awkward. Joan—Ms. Mueller—she’s been feeling kind of on edge lately.”
He looked instantly concerned. “She okay? She’s not gonna stop babysitting, is she? It took me a long time to find someone, and Carlson, he’s real happy here and—”
“No, it’s nothing like that. She … she has the idea you might be concerned about something with regard to your wife. I don’t know anything about you, Mr. Bain, and I don’t know what goes on in your home, but you need to know that Ms. Mueller never made any calls to anyone about—”
“What the hell are you getting at? What about my wife?”
I’d regretted agreeing to Joan’s stunt about the coffee, and was quickly starting to regret wading into this conversation. “All I’m saying is, if there are problems between you and your wife, if someone’s been to see you about rumors, I hope you’re getting the help you need, but you have to know that Joan—”
“I don’t know what the hell this is about, pal, but if you know something
about my wife, and where I might find her, I’d love to hear it. Otherwise, mind your own goddamn business.”
That stopped me short. “Where you might
find
her?”
“Christie took off shortly after Carlson was born,” he said bitterly. “Ran off on both of us. I haven’t seen that woman in nearly four years. Carlson hasn’t seen her since he was four months old. He wouldn’t know that woman if she got her own show on the Disney Channel.”
THIRTY
I could have gone back and knocked on Joan Mueller’s door and asked her what the hell was going on, why she was playing me this way, whether she’d simply lost her mind, but I had a better plan. Stay as far away from her as possible.
When Kelly was eating her frosted flakes, I said, “After you get back from staying with your grandmother, you won’t be going to Ms. Mueller’s house after school anymore.”
“Why not?”
“She’s got enough kids to look after.” And I wasn’t so sure she should be looking after them, but I had my own problems right now. “We’ll check into an after-school program or something.”
“If I’m even
at
that school anymore,” Kelly reminded me.
I called Sally Diehl at the office.
“I don’t know when I’m going to make it in today,” I said. “I’m taking Kelly to her grandparents’ place.”
“Nice,” Sally said. “She’s getting a day off school.”
“She’s going to be off for a little while,” I said. “Change of scenery. I want you to call Alfie over at the fire department.” Alfred Scranton was a deputy chief, and the point man on investigations.
“Sure,” Sally said. “What’s up?”
“I was talking to someone last night about bogus electrical parts. Stuff from China or wherever, looks legit but inside it’s nothing but shit.”
“Daddy,”
Kelly scolded me.
“Is this about the fire?” Sally asked. A tender spot for her, considering her Theo wired the house that went up in flames. But there was no shielding her from this. She worked in the office and everything went through her desk sooner or later.
“Yes,” I said. “I want to know if they had a close look at the parts that came out of that breaker panel. I want to know if they were the real deal.”
“Come on, Glen, Theo wouldn’t put stuff like that in one of your houses.”
“Sally, just make the call, okay?”
“Got it,” she said, but she didn’t sound happy. “You haven’t just got it in for him, have you?”
“How well do you know me, Sally?”
“Okay, I take it back. I’ll make the call.” Wanting to get off the subject, she said, “So what’s with Kelly? She okay? You pulling her out of school?”
Kelly got up, rinsed her cereal bowl in the sink, and left the room.
“Truth is, we had a bit of an incident last night,” I said.
“What?”
“Someone took a shot at the house.”
“What? God, Glen, what happened?”
I told her.
“I just can’t believe it. She okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine, considering everything. First her mother dies, then her friend’s mother, and then this. She needs a break from Milford. So, tell Doug he’s the main guy today. Any problems, you can always reach me on my cell.”
Sally promised she’d be in touch, and said to give Kelly a hug for her.
Kelly was standing at the bottom of the stairs with her travel case. “Sally says hi,” I said.
“Can you put this in the truck?” she asked. “I want to go check to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.”
That reminded me I had to call her school, let them know she was going to be away for a while. She’d already missed the start of class today, and we were likely to be getting a call any moment since I hadn’t phoned her in absent. I put in a call to the office, left a message on the machine.
I took Kelly’s case, went out the front door and around to the back
of the truck. I dropped the tailgate, tossed in the case, and grabbed a three-foot two-by-four scrap that was lying in there. I had a collection of bits and pieces in the garage, and thought this a worthy addition.
I was headed back into the house when a black Chrysler 300 came to a stop across the end of the driveway. I didn’t know the car. But when the driver got out, I recognized him, even though we’d never met before.
I stepped into the front hall, leaving the door open a crack.
“Kelly!”
She appeared at the top of the stairs. “Yup?”
“Listen carefully. I’m going outside to talk to a man. Lock this door when I leave. Watch from the window. If something happens, call 911.”
“What’s going—”
“Have you got that?”
“Yes.”
I turned and she scooted down the stairs. Once outside, I listened for the sound of the deadbolt turning into position behind me.
I was still holding the two-by-four.
The driver, a tall dark-haired man in a leather jacket, black pants, and well-shined shoes, came around the front of the Chrysler and leaned against the passenger door. He was wearing sunglasses he didn’t bother to take off.
“Can I help you?”
He looked up at the second-floor window that I’d covered over with a sheet of plywood. “Somebody throw a ball through your window, Mr. Garber?”
“Don’t leave your car there. I’m backing out.”
“I won’t be long. I’m just here to pick up something.” He folded his arms across his chest. He glanced at the two-by-four in my hand, then disregarded it.
“Pick up what?” I asked. Crossing his arms had brought his sleeves up on his arms, revealing an expensive watch.
“A package your wife was supposed to deliver for her friend. Belinda Morton.”
“My wife is dead.”
He nodded. “As it turns out, she died the day she was supposed to make this delivery.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But I was thinking about the envelope, the one Belinda had given to Sheila.
He rubbed his chin with his right hand, like he was mulling over how to deal with me. When he did it, his sleeve pulled back some, revealing a tattoo. An ornate chain design encircled his wrist.
“Looking at my Rolex?” he said.
“A fake?”
He nodded, impressed. “You got a good eye.”
“Not really. But that’s your specialty, right?”
He eyed me curiously but said nothing.
“You’re Sommer,” I said. “At least, that’s one name you go by. You’re in the knockoff business.”
That got his attention. I could see his eyes blink behind the shades. “Mr. Twain told you about me.” It wasn’t a question. I got the sense this was his way of letting me know he’d been watching me, or Twain, or both.
“Why’d my wife call you the day she died?” I asked.
He took his weight off the car, flexed his hands. I tightened my grip on the two-by-four.
“She left a message to say she couldn’t make it,” he said. “Why do you think that was?”
“I don’t know.”
“My theory is, she changed her mind. Or had it changed for her. Maybe you had something to do with that.”
“You’ve got that wrong.”
Sommer smiled. “Look, Mr. Garber, let’s not bullshit each other. I know how it is. You’ve had money troubles lately. Your wife suddenly has a nice chunk of change in her possession. You think,
Hey, that could take care of a few of our problems
. How’m I doing?”
“Not very well.”
Something had caught his eye. “Your neighbor lady always watch everything that goes on out here?”
“Neighborhood Watch,” I said.
Sommer’s gaze had switched from Joan Mueller’s house to mine.
“Seems that everyone’s watching us,” he said. “That must be your little girl, peeking through the curtain.”
Trying to keep my voice as even as possible and gripping the length of wood tightly, I answered, “You threaten her and I’ll beat you to death.”