The Price of Candy (13 page)

Read The Price of Candy Online

Authors: Rod Hoisington

Tags: #kidnapping, #rape, #passion, #amateur sleuth, #female sleuth, #mistress, #blackmail, #necrophilia, #politician, #stripper, #florida mystery, #body on the beach

“Have to think about this. Why are you
working this angle?”

“To find Jamie for one. Plus Moran is
connecting me to Banks, the actual victim, because of old stuff on
my computer. If Abby was gunning for Toby instead of Banks, then
Moran can’t say I conspired with her to shoot Banks. I’d be in the
clear.”

“Give me his address. And thanks...I guess.”
The detective put his hand on her arm and leaned closer. “I’d
really like to see you back off a bit. Why don’t you leave
everything to us? You’re getting in deep here...the shooting and
kidnapping. People involved in this kind of stuff shoot guns and
hurt people. Possibly, we can get something on Toby now that we
have a name and address to work with. In any case, be careful. He
now knows you’ve discovered his identity.”

“I’m sure his mother has told him all about
me.”

“We never had this conversation about your
case. Okay?” They both stood. “If I can ever help with anything
else, I hope you’ll call me.” He held out his hand, which she
thought a bit unusual, but she shook it and said goodbye.

Kevin was waiting in the lobby when she came
out. “Triney’s now with us. I think he’ll check out Toby with
kidnapping in mind.”

“Good, at least something’s being done. It’s
so great you located Toby.”

“Let’s sit a minute. I’ve an idea on what to
do next. By the way, did I mention I enjoyed the conversation with
you last night. I noticed you don’t talk much about your
divorce.”

“Was that a question?”

She was dying to know what went on. “None of
my business. I’m thinking about how it affected Jamie.”

“Devastating for any kid, of course. I’m
lucky I ended up with her still on my side. Even though I’m a
failure as a parent.”

“Failure?”

“Because I got divorced.”

“Sounds too all encompassing. Marriage is
tough.”

“I was attracted to all her sexiness before
we were married. I’d never had it so...excessively like that. I was
okay with it, but the excitement didn't last for her. Soon she said
I didn’t meet her needs and she was tired of trying to meet mine.
She felt confined and trapped. She wanted to be 'active'. Said
being married wasn’t fun anymore. '”

“When did she say that, at the wedding
reception?”

“After two months.”

“Feeling confined and trapped are code words
for I want to screw other people,” she suggested.

“I think she reconnected with one of her old
boyfriends. It came to a head one night. Out of the blue, she said
I ignored her.”

“Of course. The boyfriend is giving her
plenty of attention. He gives her the confidence she needs to ditch
you. He’s telling her all she wants is to be happy, you’re a loser,
and she’s in the right. That successful ploy will continue until he
gets tired of screwing her.”

Kevin looked away for a moment and then down
at his hands. “He might be Jamie’s real father.”

“What? What?”

“One night we were hurling vicious words back
and forth. I told her if she wanted out then that was fine with me.
But I wanted custody of Jamie. That’s when she screamed out Jamie
wasn’t my daughter.”

“Wow! Let's sit down here a minute. What a
way to hurt a guy.”

“After one of our fights she said she stopped
taking the pill because we hadn’t had sex for a month. According to
her, the only unprotected sex she had during that time was with
this Warren. Apparently, she saw him all through our marriage
starting within a year of our wedding. She was certain I couldn’t
have been the father, nevertheless she had a DNA test just to be
sure. Jamie isn’t my child. Warren is.”

“Oh, god, you poor guy. What an evil, nasty,
crummy thing for her to say to someone who has been bringing up her
child. Your heart must have sunk through the floor when the DNA
test confirmed it. Are you certain about the timing of all
this.”

“It doesn’t make any difference to me. I
don’t want anyone else to be Jamie’s father.”

“Forget about the DNA for a minute. Is there
any chance you had sexual relations with Abby around nine months,
plus or minus, before she was born?”

“I’ve no idea. All that took place years
before the night she hit me with the news. I’ve been all through
this. Her biological father isn’t involved emotionally or legally
in this. That’s the way I want it. I don’t want him involved in her
life.

“When did you participate in the DNA
test?”

“I didn’t participate. They tested Warren and
got a positive result.”

“For chrissake, Kevin, you’ve had some
pre-med education, yet you sound like some ignorant hillbilly. That
isn’t how they do it. You must give a sample as well. That’s what
paternity testing is all about. You, Abby and Jamie must all three
give samples for the DNA to be valid.”

“She didn't say anything to me about
that.”

“What about all her unprotected sex with
other men during your marriage? Warren might have been her partner
now and again for years. I’ll bet there were other men as well. God
only knows who all those guys in turn slept with and what you were
subsequently exposed to.”

“I definitely was concerned about that part
when I found out. I had tests immediately for HIV and a complete
STD screen. I’m totally clean.”

“At least you had sense enough to do that.
And there’s been no sex with Abby since?”

“Of course not!”

“You don’t trust Abby. Why do you believe her
when it comes to the most important thing in your life?”

“I don’t want to know absolutely, definitely,
that Jamie isn’t mine.”

“You can’t go through life with your head in
the sand. It’s important to know. You have to find out for sure. I
think we should dig into this. Tell me about the divorce.”

“She ran around, but it was my fault as well.
I could’ve been a better husband. Sort of silly...I got hooked on
Rubik’s Cube.”

“Wait, wait, wait. She screwed other men. You
tried to solve Rubik’s Cube. You think you both are guilty of
destroying the marriage?”

“Usually she would get all dressed up and go
out in the evening to meet a girlfriend, but one night we were home
watching TV, one of her shows. I just wasn’t that interested and
had the cube in my hands twisting it around. It was a challenge for
me. She blew up and told me she was tired of seeing that dumb cube
and she told me where I could stick it. I suppose there were other
times when I could have done something with her. The entire Rubik
fascination lasted only a couple of weeks.”

“You found the puzzle more interesting than
her.”

“That wouldn’t take much. In the divorce, we
agreed she got half of everything, including the house I
practically built before the marriage. Later, she agreed to give up
custody of Jamie in return for all of the house. I jumped at the
deal. I would get Jamie. I could always get another house. Jamie
also was in heaven over the arrangement. The kicker came later.
Abby told me after the house deal got settled she was going back
before the judge and get custody of Jamie on the grounds she had a
house for the child and I didn’t.”

“Leaving you with nothing and Jamie taken
away.”

“She didn’t really want Jamie. She did it
because she knew Jamie and I wanted to be together. So I changed my
mind about giving her the house. She’ll still get it, I suppose,
but I’m going to fight it.

“So you think you’re a failure as a parent
because of all that. You’re going to get her back permanently, I’m
sure of it. I’ll help you. I just put it on my to-do list.”

“That’s great but we have to find her
first.”

“You absolutely must get a valid DNA
paternity test.”

“You said we need Abby’s DNA and Jamie’s DNA
as well as mine. Abby would never give a sample and Jamie isn’t
around.”

“I’ll get their DNA. You’ve been watching
Abby’s house every chance you get haven’t you?”

“Sure, and no sign of Jamie.”

“I’m going to go inside.”

“Inside Abby’s house? You think Jamie’s in
there?”

“That’s a long shot although with Abby who
knows. The house has never been checked. Is there more than one
bathroom?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” He
saw she expected an answer. “Okay, there’s a bathroom off the
master bedroom and one in the hall.”

“Jamie uses the one in the hall, right?”

“Right. I’m glad we cleared up the bathroom
layout. What are you up to?”

“I can obtain DNA samples from their
toothbrushes. We’re going to continue searching for Jamie while
waiting for the test results. I want to nose around in her house
anyway. Stuff on her computer. Messages on her answering machine.
An address book. Something lying around. Anything that might lead
us to Jamie.”

“You know she has a gun?”

“The cops took it. At least they took one
gun—she may have another. If you phoned her, say tonight, could you
get her out of the house for an hour? I’m not certain just how I’ll
get in. I can probably do it. Often there’s an unlocked window or
something.”

"Why don’t I just tell you where the backdoor
key is hidden?”

“That’s too simple. More fun to break a
window. I’m kidding...where’s the key?”

“In the hanging flower pot on the back porch.
She leaves it there for Jamie. How can I lure Abby out of the
house?”

“Make up something about visitation or
custody. Tell her there’s some problem. Will that work? Phone her
now.”

She waited while he phoned Abby. He began
nodding his head. After a few minutes, he flipped his phone shut
and smiled. “No problem. Seven tonight. She was surprised. She’s
coming over to the Ramada. I told her I’d buy her dinner. She
thinks I want to get her in bed.”

“Do you? Hey, just once more for old time’s
sake?”

“I’ve already drunk too much water from that
poisoned well.”

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

Shortly before seven that evening, Sandy
parked down the block and watched as Abby left her house and backed
out of the driveway. When her car was out of sight, Sandy pulled
far up the driveway so her car wasn’t visible from the street.

On the back porch, she found the key in the
hanging flowerpot. She unlocked the door and stepped inside the
kitchen. It was growing dark outside. A yard light mounted on the
garage illuminated the rooms at the back of the house. She could
see with no problem. She walked through the small house directly to
the bathrooms. An electric toothbrush was in its stand in the
master bathroom. She snapped the brush out of the end and wrapped
it in the little square of clean paper she’d brought. In the hall
bathroom, she found a small brush with Yogi Bear for a handle. She
wrapped it also and stuffed both deep into the pocket of her jeans.
Next, she checked the bedrooms, opening each closet thinking how
satisfying it’d be to find Jamie there gagged and pleading with
wide eyes.

That’s when she heard something. Something
from the kitchen. Like the click of a closing door. Had she locked
the back door after she came in? No, she wanted it open for a fast
getaway. She waited there in the hall. Quiet. Nothing. The sound
had possibly come from outside. She stepped softly across to the
dining room window to look out at her car. A chill raced along her
spine. Oh Christ, now a white SUV was parked in the driveway.

She heard shuffling and a loud grunt behind
her. She started to turn. Some cloth, it felt like a dishtowel, was
flipped over her head and pulled hard around her neck. Definitely
someone strong behind her. She jerked back against him. Tried to
scream. The towel twisted tighter around her neck. She choked and
tried to get her fingers under the towel. Too tight. She flayed
about trying reach back to find his face with her hand. He pulled
harder. All she could do was to kick and twist and claw at the
towel around her throat. She felt faint. Could no longer struggle.
She felt warm. Dizzy. And an increasing blackness.

The man let her limp body fall to the floor.
He took the towel from her neck and used it to tie her wrists
together behind her. He turned her over onto her back lying
awkwardly on her tied hands. He spread her legs and ran his hands
over her jeans feeling her thighs. He straddled her, sitting on her
legs with his knees on the floor.

She moved. She was alive.

“Sandy...that your name?” His voice was low,
almost as though talking only to himself. “Mother told me about
you. Been watching you. What you doing here?”

It had to be Toby. She gasped and tried to
catch her breath. All she could do was whisper, “Abby went to the
store. Gave me the key. She’ll be back any minute. You’re breaking
my arms, you bastard. Get off me.”

“I hope they’re not broken. I know I’m heavy
on you, but think I’ll stay right here on your legs so you don’t
start kicking.”

“Let me sit up.” She tried to think. This is
Toby. This is the son. Evidently, he’s afraid of his stepmother.
Perhaps afraid of all women. She gave it a try, “Toby, let me get
on that couch this very minute!”

“Of course, the couch. Would be better.
Sorry, didn’t think of that.” He helped her up and over to the
couch. She was slightly dizzy and fell back hard on the cushions,
her hands still bound behind her. He took a dining room chair and
positioned it directly in front of her. He sat with her knees
clamped between his.

“Maybe I should tie her feet together,” he
muttered under his breath. “You know what I need? Something in case
she starts screaming. A dishcloth from the kitchen. Just go ahead
and stuff it in her mouth, I guess.”

She shook her head fiercely. “Don’t gag me. I
won’t scream.”

“Of course, you’re going to say that.” He
reached into his pocket. He unfolded a knife. The blade was
slightly curved with an angry serrated edge on one side.

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