T FIVE O’ CLOCK everyone punched out and headed for the parking lot. For Don, the day’s work was behind him. Now he needed to gather up his and Christina’s few belongings and move into the empty apartment.
“Ready to go?” Cecily asked as she swiped their cards and walked to the Jeep. Like all the other employees that day, she seemed to be giving him some rather strange looks. Don didn’t bother asking about it.
Cecily turned to him as they drove off. “Do you want to move?” “I guess so.”
Soon they were at Kate’s house and had the Jeep loaded with boxes
and a few pieces of luggage. It took less than an hour.
Don clapped his hands together, as if brushing off dust. “That’s it.
Not much, is it?”
“We have enough, Daddy,” Christina offered.
Kate came out as Don, Christina, and Cecily were getting in the
Jeep. “I have some mattress pads for you to use until you get some
beds of your own.”
“Thanks. I think we have room for them,” said Don. Returning to
the house, they retrieved the pads and carried them to the vehicle. It
wasn’t easy, but they found a way to stuff them in.
Kate gave them a wave and an encouraging smile. “Okay, see you
later.”
As Cecily turned the corner and neared the apartment, Don could
see cars and company trucks in the driveway. “What’s going on?”
People were moving furniture. What were they doing, and how did they know where he was moving to? He turned to Cecily to see if she had any answers. She tried to match his confused look. “I don’t know....” Then, unable to contain herself any longer, her straight-faced expression changed to a smile. “A few of the employees got together when they found out you needed some furniture. Several of them said they had odds and ends around that they didn’t need, so they decided to throw you a house warming party.” Don got out of the
Jeep and went inside.
“Hey, Don, not a bad place. Not bad at all.” Ryan was unloading
a twin bed. Don could see that almost everyone from work was there,
all smiling ear-to-ear. “Don, welcome home,” said another. “Glad to
help....” An old couch sat along a living room wall next to a side table
sporting a lamp without a shade. In the family room someone had
left a console TV.
Don and Christina could hardly believe what they were seeing.
The fridge was stocked with food, a few dishes were on the shelves,
and Melvin was in the family room placing cushions on a green hidea-bed that seemed to match the curtains. “When I saw what your
friends were doing, I thought I’d help out, too. It’s not much, and
you can leave it behind when you leave, but it’s better than the mantle
to sit on. I was actually getting rid of it. It’ll give me more space upstairs.”
Don walked down the hall and found Rex putting together the
twin bed that Ryan had lugged in. An antique dresser, a few scratches
running across its top, sat next to the bed. Don glanced into the adjoining room, where he saw a box spring and mattress on the floor,
along with another, smaller dresser. Don just stood there in amazement. No one had ever done anything like this for him before. “I
don’t know what to say, guys,” he finally blurted out.
“You don’t need to say anything,” Rex replied. “Your face says it
all.” He finished tightening the final bolts on the twin bed and walked
into the other room. By the time Don returned to the front room,
everything that had been in the Jeep was now in the apartment. People began filtering out. “See you tomorrow,” they said.
“Later....” “Great place. ...”
When the last of them had gone, Cecily and Don plopped down
on the couch. It had all happened so fast. He still wasn’t sure what to
do. Cecily put her hands on his shoulder and planted a kiss on his
cheek. “I told you we’re like family around here.”
Christina let out a shriek from the other room and raced into where
they sat, holding a box. “Look what they left!”
“What is it?”
“Oh, Dad, it’s a Nintendo 64!” She said it as if he should know.
“Ralph gave it to you. His children grew out of it,” Cecily added. “It
has some pretty cool games.”
Danny pulled up on his bike and trotted down the stairs. “Wow!
Where’d all the stuff come from?”
“My dad’s friends from work brought all this stuff for us. Look,
and we even have an N64! See if you can get it to work,” she prodded. The two of them disappeared into the other room. “Why’d they do all this?” Don asked, a bewildered look on his
face.
“Well, let’s see. You help Rex after work; Ryan was behind a few
times and you pitched in; Dave had a flat tire....Should I go on?” “No....I just don’t know how to repay them.”
Stacey plodded across the dusty fields, doing his best to stay out of sight of the country roads. The ranchers had already put their cattle on the ranges. He watched the young calves cavort with one another in the warm southern breeze. He figured he had at least five more miles before he’d reach Fillmore, so he’d be traveling by the cover of nightfall by the time he reached the outskirts. He occasionally picked up bits and pieces of radio noise on his hand-held unit. From what he was able to tell, he was the subject of a statewide manhunt. He decided he might as well turn it off and save the battery. It might come in handy later.
Captain Bingham’s nerves were frayed. His “contacts” in Vegas hadn’t reported seeing Stacey, the highway patrol hadn’t stopped him, and the prosecuting attorney couldn’t come up with a warrant, so Bingham had decided to turn up the heat. Stopping at a pay phone, he deposited the required change. “Did you make the deposit?”
“Forty thousand—just like you said,” was the response. He hung up and dropped in additional change, took a card from his pocket and called the number written in pen above the name.
“This is Captain Bingham, Mapleton Police Department. I have some information that may be of interest to you. It must be kept confidential. We have reason to believe that our Officer Rick Stacey has stolen a substantial amount of cocaine from our evidence room. We also think he’s somewhere between here and Las Vegas. We’ve been trying to obtain warrants to search his home and financial records. One of our informants told us he made a large deposit to his account in the last 24 hours. We also suspect him in the murder of Detective Kiser Derickson.” He listened a moment. “He passed away this morning....No, that information still has not been released. At this point the evidence from the murder also implicates Officer Rick Stacey. We think he planted the gun and clothing in the vent of the Reid home. He used the car for his drug deals and met an unknown buyer in Levan. The County Attorney’s office refuses to issue the warrant, or we’d know the answer to that, too. That’s all I can tell you.” He hung up the phone.
He knew the reporter’s aggressive nature would move her to find out more. By morning everything would hit the fan. All he needed was three or four more days.
Cecily lay face down on the sofa. She and Don had scrubbed down the bathrooms, arranged furniture and gotten everything put away. Danny’s main task had been to install the Nintendo in the family room, and now he and Christina, joysticks in hand, were busily blasting away at each other. Don, watching their fun, strolled back into the living room. “You must be pooped,” he grinned.
Cecily smiled. “Mmmhmm.”
He sat down next to her on the edge of the couch; she scooted back to give him room. “Thanks for all your help,” he said, reaching down to rub her back. She gave another “Mmmm” as his hands eased up to her shoulders and neck, kneading her tight muscles with his strong hands. He worked his way down each arm to her hands, then back up to her shoulders and down her spine. He’d given Monica many such massages over the years. He had magic hands, she claimed.
He proceeded to work other areas, the therapy seeming to put Cecily into a trance-like state. She purred her approval. He heard someone rustling around upstairs, but didn’t pay much attention; his mind was more occupied by his physical desires as his hands drifted down to the sides of her breasts. Suddenly Cecily raised up on her elbows. “I’m uncomfortable with your hands there,” she stated bluntly.
Don pulled away. “I—I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I just thought...” He didn’t understand. He knew Cecily’s morals were high, but thought she’d given him enough signals to move forward with their relationship.
“Excuse me.” The voice came from a handsome young man, standing at the open doorway. “Do you know if Melvin’s home? No one answers his door.”
Don and Cecily were both taken aback by the intrusion. They’d been enjoying the cool night air that wafted into the warm apartment and hadn’t thought to close the door.
“I don’t know,” Don answered. “Did you see his car in the drive?” “No, I didn’t.”
Don recognized his face from somewhere, but was anxious to resolve the conflict he’d just created with Cecily. The young man turned to leave, then did an about-face.
“I do,” Don answered. Cecily sat mutely, her arms folded across her chest.
“My wife and I just moved out,” he said.
Don nodded. “Yeah, I thought I knew you.”
“We’ve been trying to get our deposit back since we left,” he explained, desperation in his voice. “He keeps putting us off. The last time he told me I better take a close look at my contract. My wife and I can’t afford another place until he pays us.”
Don and Cecily shot each other a worried glance. They remembered how Melvin had sidestepped the contract issue and said he’d already given the newlyweds their deposit back. Cecily’s mind was trying to recall what Melvin had said concerning their departure. “How are your wife’s allergies?” she asked.
He gave them a puzzled look. “She doesn’t have any allergies.”
“Melvin told us you moved because of her allergies,” she reaffirmed.
“We moved because Melvin was in our apartment as my wife came out of the shower in a towel. We think he was here the entire time she was showering. I thought she was crazy at first. Then she asked me why I’d turned on the washer after asking her to start it in a note I wrote. I didn’t start it, which leads me to believe Melvin must have.” The young man displayed several bursts of anger as he spoke.
“Do you think he was snooping around?” Cecily asked.
“My wife thinks he was watching her. Do you mind if I take a quick look in the furnace room?”
Don stood and gestured for the young man to come in. “By the way, my name’s Paul,” he said. Introductions made, they walked down the hall and opened the door. Paul stepped in and turned on the light. There was the hole in the wall where Danny had poked Christina with the stick. He bent down and put his eye up to it.
“It’s too dark to see.”
Cecily went around, turned on the lights and stood at the bathroom mirror. She could see Paul’s eye through the hole. “Turn off the light in there and close the door,” she instructed.
Don closed the door and gave the pull chain a yank. Again Paul put his eye up to the hole, this time from a few inches back.
“Are you looking?”
“Can’t you see me?” Paul asked.
Cecily moved from spot to spot. Although Paul’s eye was invisible to her, he could clearly see her. By the time they’d finished their deliberations, everyone was convinced that Melvin was indeed a Peeping Tom.
Stacey was within a few blocks of Grandma Stacey’s home. He knew she’d be surprised to see him, but he wasn’t quite sure what to tell her. Walking down the last street, he could see that the kitchen lights were on. Grandma was a strong old woman, from pioneer stock. She always wore a checkered apron with a dishtowel hung through a loop at the front. Her long silver hair was kept rolled into a tight bun that hugged the back of her head. Her husband had died almost ten years earlier— keeled over from a massive heart attack while farming the land he loved so much. Nowadays she leased the farm to a local man, but insisted on staying in the home. She couldn’t see very well, which made it difficult to do her needlepoint.
Stacey marched up the steps to the kitchen door and knocked, setting off an almost voiceless barking alarm from her old German shepherd, Track—short for “Tractor.” The dog had become quite a burden to her, but she loved him and he kept her company. As a boy, he’d come to appreciate the shepherd breed from smart ol’ Track.
The back porch light flickered on. Grandma Stacey pulled the curtain aside and put her face up to the glass. Her puzzled look turned to joy as she identified the visitor. With some effort she opened the door.
“Ricky, how nice to see you!” she warbled. The two of them took a moment to embrace. Stacey towered above her frail, stooped frame, even while standing one step below.
“How are you, Grandma?”
“I’m doing fine. But I think you’re in a heap’a trouble.” Stacey stepped into the front room, where the ten o’clock news was on. The Channel Five reporter, live on the scene, was projecting to her audience, telling all about the missing Officer Rick Stacey—about two reports that he had large amounts of money in his bank account, about “inside” sources’ claims that he was connected to the murder of Officer Derickson. The camera showed a clip of the grieving family leaving the hospital. Stacey’s high school photo flashed on the screen as the reporter did her best to taint his reputation.
Stacey stood in shock. How had Bingham moved so quickly?
The lead story continued, this time with footage of the outside of Stacey’s apartment. Stacey could see Sig’s eyes reflecting the lights of the camera as it panned the garage windows. According to the reporter, the county prosecutor would not comment on the case, nor would he issue a warrant at this time.
A tenant a few doors down from Stacey’s apartment came on the screen. “No, I haven’t seen him all day,” he answered in reply to the reporter’s question.
“Of course not, you work all day, just like I do,” muttered Stacey.
The report concluded with the fact that the story was an exclusive; they were the first to report all the facts. Grandma switched off the small television set and turned to her grandson, now seated on the couch. “Now dear, what can I do to help?” she asked with total sincerity in her voice.
He summed it up in a single sentence. “I’m being set up by a crooked police captain.” He looked back at the blank TV screen and shook his head in disbelief.
His relationship with his grandma was close. He’d spent many summers working on the farm with his grandpa and had come back to help her run it in the months following his death, until they both realized it would be way too much for her to handle. Track, lay at the old woman’s feet. Stacey smiled. “He’s getting old, isn’t he?”
She nodded. “How’s Sig?”
“Like you saw, locked in the garage because he bit the captain.”
“He knows, too, doesn’t he?” she said matter-of-factly. “Now, how are you going to prove it, Officer Stacey?” She asked the question as if she had no doubt he was innocent. She knew him inside and out. He wouldn’t lie to her, even if he thought he was going to get in the most serious trouble.
“I’m not sure,” he sighed. “It’s worse than I thought. The detective who was helping me through this investigation died just last night.”
“Detective Derickson?” she exclaimed. “They talked about him on the early news. Six children left behind! You’d better get on the stick and stop moping around if you’re going to put the one responsible behind bars,” she encouraged. “I think I still have a box or two of your grandpa’s old things around. Why don’t we see if they’re still any good?”
Before long Stacey was in a pair of his grandpa’s old coveralls and boots. The plaid shirts were too small. Grandpa was a pretty large man in his early days, but had lost considerable bulk the last few years of his life. Stacey took off his uniform shirt; the undershirt would have to do. Emptying his pockets, he found the key to the captain’s car, which he tucked in the top pocket of the coveralls. On a nightstand in the spare bedroom, he noticed an old love note he’d written to his granddad almost twenty years before. It was signed “Bup,” a nickname his grandpa had given him when he was little. Grandpa was the only one who ever used the name, and Stacey always used to feel special as “Bup” working side by side with the wizened old man.
Having dug out an old hat she used occasionally when she went out in the sun, grandma returned to the room. The elastic head band stretched and moaned as Stacey put it on his head.
“Take a look at you now,” she said. “You don’t look like an officer any more.” Stacey looked at his reflection. True, he didn’t look the same—and even felt a little silly. “You reminded me of your granddad for a moment. Tall...strong. Now you let that beard alone a few days and Sig won’t even know you.” She chuckled. “I’ve got a few dollars. You can use the old Mercury in the shed. I haven’t driven it for a few months, but it never gives me a bit of trouble. Have you had anything to eat?”
“Not since last night.” He felt like a kid when he was with her. Being in her kitchen after an exhausting day reminded him of his youth.
“Let’s see if we can take care of that.” She bustled over to the counter and began to prepare one of her delicious meals.
Paul spoke as they heard Melvin’s car pull into the drive. Don didn’t hear what he said. His mind was on Melvin, picturing him taking a peek at his daughter through that hole. He stepped out the front door and stormed up the stairs, definitely not in the mood for conversation. Melvin had lied to them. He was planning on keeping their deposit, just like he did Paul’s. Don remembered seeing Melvin talk to Christina the day they filled out the application. It was true: Melvin had seemed a bit too friendly with his daughter.
“Melvin! I need a word with you,” he growled.Melvin’s head jerked up. There was Don, face red, about ready to blow a gasket, with Cecily, Paul, Christina and Danny still flooding up the stairs behind him. “What can I do for you?” he cackled, staying safely behind his car, a silly grin plastered on his face.
“You remember Paul,” he glowered, his words filled with bitterness and hate. “His wife’s the one with allergies that moved out a few days ago?” Don started around the car toward him. “He told us about you being in the apartment when his wife was in the shower. We’ve seen your little peep hole. I think I’ll break your scrawny neck.”
Melvin backed away, keeping the car between them. “I don’t have a clue to what you’re talking about,” he retorted. “But I’m sure Judge Demick would be glad to talk about this little visit you’re having with me,” he jeered.
Christina was the first to try to calm the storm. “Daddy, come back inside.”
A pointed scowl now set the stage for his hair-trigger temper as he fairly erupted at the landlord’s comment. “First I’m going to squash this little pervert’s head.” He stalked around the car to try to get closer.
“I’ll just head back to Aunt Kate’s,” Christina hollered as she climbed on her bike. “I might as well pack my things.” Don then fathomed the meaning behind his daughter’s subtle message. If he even touched Melvin, he’d be answering to Judge Demick again. He backed off his assault and turned to his daughter, his arms upraised in surrender.
“Okay,” he said. Then turning back to Melvin, he spat out his final threat. “I think we’ll be moving in a few days—just as soon as you get us our deposit back.”
Melvin merely turned and slipped up the steps to his back door.
Stacey had gorged himself on his grandma’s biscuits and gravy. Now she was filling a sack with assorted fruits and pastries from the fridge. “You’re a smart boy. You make sure you ask God for his help and he’ll see you through this, you know.” She had always taught him to pray. “I’ll be praying for you, too. Now you better go get that friend of yours out of the garage before they get that warrant and take him to the pound.”
Stacey stood and looked down at his grandma. She was a smart lady. He hadn’t even thought about the possibility they’d take Sig away. “You’ll have the cover of the night,” she added, smiling. “You make sure you use it like an old raccoon.” She practically herded him out the door, just like she did when he was young and he thought he was too tired to keep working. “I love you, Ricky. You bring honor back to our good name.” She reached up and, clasping her hands around the back of his neck, pulled him down where she could put her cheek next to his.
“I love you too, Grandma. Thank you.”She tucked a roll of cash in his hand and turned to flip the porch light off. As she watched him strike out into the shadows, heading for the shed, her phone rang. She backed over to the wall and answered it. “Hi, son. Yes, I saw it on the news....Nope, don’t believe a word of it. He’s too good a boy. And he’s smart. He’ll be just fine—I have it on good authority.” She watched her own flesh and blood pull out down the gravel driveway and out onto the road to take on the most dangerous task of his life. She wouldn’t reveal his whereabouts to anyone, even her own son. The boy needed every advantage he could get.
Paul left Don’s apartment slightly stunned by the confrontation he’d witnessed. He was hoping gentle persuasion would get Melvin to give back the cash; now he dismally resigned himself to never seeing his money again.
Cecily, too, was surprised at Don’s actions. His countenance had gone beyond intimidating or frightful—it was downright vicious. She was glad she hadn’t been on the receiving end of Don’s anger. Needing to escape, she coldly said goodnight and started for the Jeep, thinking maybe she’d misjudged his friendly, easy-going manner. Her headlights flashed across Jake as he cruised down the walk on his skateboard and slid in front of Danny, who was just climbing on his bike to leave.
“Mom told me...to come and get you, Uncle Don,” Jake wheezed, a sense of urgency in his voice. “Pauline called. You need to call her right away....We’ll stay here with Christina and you take Danny’s bike.” Don resisted asking any questions. All he could do was hop on the half-sized bike and peddle toward Kate’s, imagining the worst, hoping for the best.
Jake, Danny and Christina went back inside to play Nintendo. Jake challenged Danny to a match, boasting, “I’ll have you beat in ten minutes.”
“Not a chance,” Danny scoffed. “I just killed Christina five times in a row and she had ten armor points. I didn’t have any.”
“Yeah, but she’s a girl. No offense, Chrissy.”
“None taken.” Being a novice, she didn’t mind losing. Soon the two of them were deep in a trance, playing to the attack-and-parry rhythms of the game.
“Guys, I’m going to get my bike and bring it in,” Christina announced.
“Okay,” one of the boys said distractedly.
Don reached Kate’s and sprinted in to make the call. “Did she say anything?” He asked as he entered.
“Your dad’s not doing very well. You’d better call.” Don dialed the number.
“Pauline? Don. How is he?”
“The doctor just left. He’s going downhill fast. We’re not sure he’ll make it through the night.”
“He’s got to. I have to say goodbye. You tell him to hang on. I’m going to catch the first bus I can and come up.”
“I’ll tell him, but I don’t think he’ll hear me.”
Don hung up the phone and dug the phone book out of the drawer. “When does the next bus go to Boise?” he asked, still out of breath. “Any seats left? Good I’ll be right down.”
Christina gingerly climbed the steps and looked around to see if Melvin was anywhere in sight. Since she heard Paul’s story, the very thought of their new landlord gave her the creeps. The coast was clear. She darted out and snatched up the bike. Just as she’d lifted it off the ground, she saw Melvin’s feet, situated squarely on the grass between her and the front door. She slowly looked up, hoping it was someone else.
“I’ll scream if you touch me!” she warned. She swung to the other side of the bike for safety.
“I’m not going to touch you. I was just out here looking at the half moon. Isn’t it beautiful?” He was wearing a black knit cap over his balding head. His dark clothes helped him blend into the shadows. “Besides, those boys have the volume turned up so loud they couldn’t even hear you if you did scream. That’s why I’m out here. It’s too loud for me inside.”
Christina took a few steps back. He closed the gap. “I love the night. The stars twinkle and the cold night air sucks the noise right out of everything.” He looked up.
Christina took a few more steps backward, taking her farther and farther away from the front door. If she could just get a small head start on him she could ride faster than he could run. She took another step, then flung herself onto the bike and raced off down the street, looking back over her shoulder as she went. Melvin was nowhere to be seen. He’d slipped into the darkness by the side of the house.
Don asked Kate if she’d mind driving him to the bus station. “It leaves in ten minutes. Can ‘Tina stay with you a few more days?”
“Of course. Don’t you want to get a few things before you go?”
“I don’t have time. Tell her I’ll call in the morning.” They went to the garage and drove to the bus stop. Don rushed in to purchase his ticket. “Tell her I love her,” he shouted to Kate as he climbed onto the bus.