ON HOBBLED from the Greyhound shortly after seven. He hoped the local transit system could get him where he needed to go. He’d seldom used public transportation. That night’s bus ride was the first trip he’d ever taken without his truck. From there to his father’s place was a 20-minute drive. How long it would take by bus, he didn’t know. He stopped at a phone to call his father’s home.
“Hi, it’s Don. How’s he doing?...Good. I knew he’d hang on....Oh? What happened? I’ll call.” He hung up the phone and hurriedly dialed again. “Collect...Don...Kate, what’s going on? Yeah, she said it was urgent...” He listened, consciously resisting the urge to swear. “I’ll get back as soon as I can,” he said. “She said he’s still hanging on. I haven’t seen him yet....No, I’m still at the bus stop.”
Finally he settled down enough to hear what Kate was trying to say. “‘Tina’s okay?...I’ll call back a little later.” Don was torn between anger and sadness. “I should have killed the little pervert last night,” he whispered as he began to search for a bus schedule.
Stacey awoke to the all-too-familiar wet tongue on his cheek. It was later than he’d hoped. Sig needed to be let outside. The battery had charged while he slept; he plugged it into the back of his radio, unplugged the charger, and put it in his bag. Quietly, they crept down the stairs to the garage. He felt silly sneaking around in his parents’ house, but the last thing he wanted to do was drag them into this mess.
Suddenly someone approached. He turned and scooted back up the stairs, waiting by the door, listening. He could tell by the gait and by the humming of a popular song, that it was his kid sister, Amber. Then all at once the footsteps started upstairs, the door opened, and in she walked. At first she was taken by surprise, then she opened her arms and ran to greet him. “Rick, we’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m fine, Amber.” Sig thumped his big tail on the wall as he waited for his share of the greeting.
She turned her brother loose and gave Sig a pat. “Why are they saying all that stuff about you?”
“I know some things about a powerful and dangerous man, things he doesn’t want me to tell anyone. He’ll do anything to keep me quiet.”
“Why don’t you go to the FBI?”
“I don’t have enough evidence to put him in jail yet.”
“Mom and Dad said you didn’t do it. They’ve been worried sick. We need to go tell them you’re okay.”
“No. No one can know I was here. I need you to keep it a secret. Do you understand?” Amber nodded. “If he finds out I was here, you may be in danger, too.”
Amber reached down to give Sig a few more pats as they talked. “My friend Christina was attacked by that killer last night. We saw her in the ambulance on the news just a few minutes ago. We saw you and Sig go after Captain Bingham—is he the one?
“I can’t say. I need to go. There’s lots to do. You tell Mom and Dad that I’ll be fine. They taught me how to take care of myself. Besides, I’ve got Sig to look out for me. Now hurry back downstairs.”
Amber started for the door, then turned back. “I almost forgot why I came up here. I left my pack here yesterday.” She shuffled over to the window and retrieved it. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” she said slyly, as if she were already part of his undercover scheme. She reached for the door and stopped again. “What if I need to contact you to tell you something important?” she asked in earnest.
“I’ll try to stay in touch. If I don’t, you’ll think of something, I’m sure.”
“If I do, you meet me here at midnight.” She was always trying to help him with his police work.
“What do you mean if you do?”
“If I think of a way to contact you, meet me here at midnight, on the dot.” She was insistent.
“Midnight it is, then. I’ll watch for the sign.” He watched her go out the door and down the stairs. He and Sig soon followed.
Captain Bingham, bandaged and indignant, was less than thrilled with the throng of reporters waiting at his door. He practically drove over the crowd of camera- and microphone-wielding bodies to free his vehicle from the horde. Noting his reluctance, the news-hungry mob transformed into a moving assemblage of autos, trailing his unmarked Pontiac to the station.
Stacey decided the best place for him to hide was the last place anyone would be looking. Getting there without being seen would be the hardest part. He pulled into the back of the post office, commanded Sig to stay down, strolled over to the phone and dialed the number. “Stacey here....I know. I need your help. I didn’t do it. You know me better than that. Give me three days. If I can’t prove it, I’ll turn myself in....Has a warrant been issued yet?...Good, then you won’t be breaking any laws. Meet me in the parking lot of the Raintree Apartments at ten....I’ll tell you what I need.”
Bingham, having fought his way through the crowd, was met by the County Prosecutor himself, Mr. Jay White. Melvin had been kept in city lock-up since his arrest. He’d made one brief collect call that night.
“Demick wants us in his courtroom by eight with your prisoner,” began the prosecutor. “Some bigwig, out-of-state lawyer flew in a few hours ago and set up a hearing. We better go over what you’ve got—and it better be good.”
“I’ll get Barker in here and see where we’re at.” The captain took his radio and made the call. “One ten, one twelve.”
“Go, captain.”
“I need you in the office. What’s your twenty?”
“I’m just pulling in, sir.” Barker barreled in amid a sea of questions thrown his way. The men went into an office and closed the door.
It took Don almost an hour to arrive at his father’s home. Several cars were parked in the driveway. He knocked on the door.
“Maria!” Don exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
She reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist. He was the only one with any height in the family, standing almost a foot taller than his younger sister. Don hadn’t seen her for more than three years, she having moved to Oregon shortly after her marriage. Since then, he didn’t even know she was on speaking terms with her father. Her eyes looked tired and bloodshot. “We drove through the night after Pauline called.”
Within a few minutes’ time, brother and sister were reacquainted. Then Don asked about her relationship with their dad. “We stopped here to see him the year after I got married,” explained Maria. “We found he wasn’t the monster Mama had made him out to be. We’ve been close ever since.”
Don was pleasantly surprised. His dad had never talked about any of the siblings. He thought he was the only one who kept in touch.
“How’s he doing?”
“This morning, a little better. He was quite sure he wasn’t going to live through the night when we talked to Pauline.”
Maria led Don back to their father’s bedroom. Once a strong and proud man, full of fire and fight, he lay motionless, his frail body slender and still. The once-round face was sunken, bony, dispirited. Dark shadows filled the void around his eyes. Don sidled up to the bed, wishing he’d come sooner. Dad had gone downhill so fast. Only last summer he was out on the lawn playing football with Christina. He’d retired from trucking only four years before. At that time, he still could almost whip Don in arm wrestling.
Pauline sat next to him, holding his hand. She leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Don’s here. He drove through the night to see you.”
The father’s eyes stirred ever so slightly, then opened a fraction of an inch. He labored to turn his head, wanting to see his son. Don drew near and sat in a chair at his side. The old man raised his hand and slowly motioned Don to lean closer. “Mi hijo...” he whispered, his voice weak and raspy.
“I came to see you, Papa. I needed to be here.”
“I am better,” he said listlessly. “For now she is safe.”
“Who, Papa? Who’s safe?”
The old man once more sunk back into his pillow. Don looked to Pauline for help.
“He hasn’t made sense all night. I think he heard me talking to Kate about Christina. How is she?”
“Kate says she’s fine. Afew scrapes and bruises, but she’ll be fine.”
Pauline nodded and smiled. “She told me the little thing fought like a wildcat. She must have a little of that fierce Rodriguez blood in her.”
“I guess so.”
The old man moved his hand again and struggled to open his eyes. He began to whisper. Don cocked his head and strained to hear. “Go back to her. Use your head.” He stopped and closed his eyes again, his strength spent.
“What did he say?” Pauline asked.
“Something about ‘go back to her, use your head.’”
“He’s been asking for you off and on through the night. He seems to want to tell you something.”
“Why don’t we get you some breakfast and a shower? You look like you’ve been hit by a Mack.” She stood and walked Don from the room, her private joke understood. Don and his dad had both driven heavy-duty Mack trucks to deliver their loads of concrete. When they arrived home exhausted, they always referred to the hard days’ work that way.
“I’ll call you when he wakes.”
Don fought to hold back the tears as he left the room.
“All arise,” the deputy intoned.
“Drop the formalities. Let’s get this damn thing in gear.” Demick was in no mood for protocol. “Mr. White, nice of you to come. This is a closed-door hearing—for reasons I can’t discuss. I hope you have everything in order. Proceed.”
“Your honor, we have evidence to link the defendant, Melvin Briggs, to the attempted kidnapping of Christina Rodriguez. Christina is prepared to testify that he approached her in an aggressive, threatening manner and that he chased her through the woods. She told the officers at the crime scene that she scratched at his face and eye. When he was arrested, Mr. Briggs’s eye was swollen, as you can see.” He gestured in Melvin’s direction. “He admitted speaking to the victim shortly before the attack. The evidence in this case leads us to believe he is the same man responsible for the other murders and kidnapping over the past eight months. We’d like him bound over for trial, without bail.”
Demick listened carefully. “Is that all?”
“We’d also like to request a search warrant for Mr. Briggs’s residence, and permission for a DNA sample to be taken to match with the other evidence.”
Demick turned to the defense attorney. “Well, what do you have to say?” He conspicuously resisted calling him by name. He didn’t much care for the hotshot attorney.
The lawyer swaggered forward, eyeing the judge. “Your Honor, the evidence is purely circumstantial. Talking to a person is not a crime. Mr. Briggs walked into a doorway last night, hurting his eye, shortly before the police arrived. He’s a highly trusted employee of the county. He owns property in the valley and retired as a decorated army colonel.” White glanced at Bingham as the attorney droned on. “He doesn’t constitute a flight risk, and thus should be released on his own recognizance. If everyone who talked to the victim last night was arrested, we’d all look pretty silly.”
Demick’s eyes dropped to the open file folder in front of him. What he was about to do went against his better judgment. “Mr. White, you’d better put a stronger case together, then come back to see me. Your request for DNA and a search warrant is denied. Mr. Briggs, you’re free to go.” Demick rapped the bench with his gavel.
“Your Honor!” White stood to protest. He could hardly believe his ears.
“My decision is final, Mr. White.”
“You’re going to let this lunatic back on the street?”
“You’re out of order. If you don’t shut up, I’ll place you in contempt.” Demick stood and strode from the room.
“All arise—”
“Just a minute.” The bailiff was cut short again as Demick retraced his steps to the bench. “The defense may leave. Captain Bingham, you and Mr. White sit down for a moment.” The two of them looked at each other. Everyone else shuffled out of the courtroom, Barker taking up the rear, when Demick barked another command. “Officer, sit down with your captain.” Barker returned to the front and sat down. “Before we all go off looking like idiots, I want to know what your search turned up at Officer Stacey’s residence last night.”
Bingham was the only one who knew anything about it. “Your Honor, we believe we found a casing that matches the gun used in the Derickson murder. It will be sent to the Provo lab this morning,” he said. “Also, as you probably already know, he attacked me last night.”
“Where’s Officer Stacey now?” the judge asked.
“I don’t know, your Honor. He...got away.”
“Don’t you think it would be prudent to locate him?”
“Yes sir, we’re doing everything we can to find him.”
Cecily hadn’t watched the morning news, and country music had been her only companion on her way in to work. So she was both disappointed and bewildered to find that Don hadn’t shown up. Then it hit her–maybe he’d had to go see his dad, or had received news that he’d died.
When Jeff came up front, a concerned expression smothered his customary smile. “Did you hear from Don?”
Cecily simply shook her head.
“You didn’t hear about Christina and how she was kidnapped? It was all over the news.”
Cecily sat in stunned silence as Jeff filled her in on the events of the past night. Then she picked up the phone and dialed Don’s number. When there was no answer, she phoned Kate. All the while she felt guilty for leaving on such bad terms the night before. After all, he was doing his best to apologize for his inappropriate behavior. But then again, for the first time in their relationship she’d witnessed his violent side.
Kate picked up. “Kate, Cecily. How’s Christina?... She’s okay, then?...Where’s Don?...” Her face grew more grim by the second. A minute later she offered her services, said her goodbyes, and hung up the phone.
Christina slept in until eight-thirty. Kate was careful to wake the other children and get them off to school without disturbing her. When she finally did crawl out of bed, her first concern was to get to school so she could let her friends know she was all right. “I have to go, Aunt Kate....”
Kate finally relented. “Get dressed and I’ll drive you.”Melvin and his attorney were escorted from the building past the bevy of reporters, who noisily spewed banal questions and thrust their microphones into the men’s sullen faces. Neither spoke as they made their way through the mob. It took five deputies to keep the reporters from engulfing them. No one could believe this man, accused of the most horrid crimes imaginable, was free to leave. Soon they were in the safety of the car on their way to Mapleton.
Melvin’s counsel shook his head. “It’s getting complicated.” “I’ll take care of the problem as soon as the opportunity arises.”Melvin’s voice was brazen and sure.
“Do you need any help in the matter?”
“No, this is one I need to take care of personally. I no longer have
any doubt.”
“Don’t let it happen again,” the attorney said firmly. “Do you think
he suspected anything?”
“I doubt it, although he was surprised.”
The men didn’t speak again until Melvin was dropped off in front
of his home. “Call me if you get tied up again. Otherwise use the
proper channels.”
“Yes, sir.” The lawyer drove away. Inside and out of sight, Melvin
drew his blinds and hid from the reporters.
Christina gave her aunt a kiss goodbye. Kate reminded her that she’d pick her up for the appointment a little before one.
At school, the entire class had heard every detail about the incident. But now they could all relax: Melvin was arrested and the town was safe. Only Ashley seemed uncomfortable. She wasn’t completely convinced the kidnapper wasn’t still out there, and Officer Stacey and his dog were no longer around to protect her. And the secret she held deep in her heart would stay locked away forever. It was as if keeping it silent would make her safe.
Soon the class was dismissed for recess. Ashley, Amber and Christina found a quiet place to talk. “It was scary, wasn’t it?” Ashley asked Christina.
“The worst thing in the whole world.”
“I’d probably be dead if Sig hadn’t come, and now they’re saying all those bad things about your brother. What’s he going to do?”
“He didn’t do any of the stuff they’re saying. He’s the best person I know.”
“Maybe we should see if we can help him,” Christina was first to suggest.
“How can we help?”
“We’ll think of something,” they agreed.
Stacey sat in the parking lot of the biggest apartment complex in town, which ran parallel to the tree cover of the river. If he left the old Merc with the other cars it would be less likely to be spotted than on the street. The parking lot was within walking distance of his home. He found an old Reader’s Digest in the glove box and read while he waited. Sig was bored hiding on the floor of the back seat, wanting nothing more than to sprint around the lot.
The story Stacey stumbled upon was so engrossing he didn’t notice the police car pull into the parking lot and circle around in front of him. He looked up only after the squad car had pulled up within inches of his mirror.
“Must be a good story,” Barker teased. Stacey bolted upright in his seat, then relaxed. His friend was right on time.
“It’s a story about a dog—you know how I am.” Sig seized the occasion to stand up on his hind legs and beg caresses from Barker as the two men spoke.
“I’m glad to see you got him before Bingham did,” Barker said, referring to Sig. “He would have loved to see Sig locked up or dead. I think he’s scared of him.”
“It was close. I was in the house when they began the search. He planted half a kilo in the cupboard and another full one in the trunk of my car.”
Barker’s nose wrinkled. “Where’s the other half?”
“I think he dumped it in the toilet.”
“He made a special trip to your house to see if you were home; he must have left it then. I should have followed him.”
“If he’d caught you, we’d both be in hot water,” Stacey warned.
“He’s going to issue a warrant for Deek’s murder as soon as he gets a match on the casing he conveniently found at your place. He’s issuing a warrant for the assault, as we speak.”
“I heard him leak that information to the reporter last night. I was right there.”
“You shouldn’t have attacked him.”
“He was about to step on me.”
“What’s he up to?”
Stacey felt sure of himself. “That’s what I’m going to find out. Now you’ve got to get me home.”
“Home?”
“I don’t know of a better place to work from. It’ll be the last place he’ll look.”
Stacey and Sig climbed into the patrol car and hunkered down in the back seat. It wasn’t easy to stay hidden with the two of them in the same cramped space.
“If the warrant was issued, I’d have to arrest you, you know. It would be a snap. I’d be a hero. You’re both locked in the back of my car.”
Stacey chuckled. “It’s a good thing I trust you. The captain might know a lot more about the murders than he’s letting on. I found a murder that matches the profile in Virginia. I think it was at the same time he lived there.” Stacey admitted, however, that it was only speculation. “Are you working on Deek’s murder?”
“No, Bingham’s decided to head it up himself. I’m working on this Briggs case.”
“Is he the guy from last night?”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like it. White looked like an amateur. Some stuffed-shirt attorney flew in and seemed to take over the whole courtroom. Demick buckled like a squashed bug.”
“Demick, the stone-cold judge.” Stacey lifted his head as he made the comment. “Something bigger than sex is going on around here.”
“Sex?” Barker asked, backing up in Stacey’s drive.
“I haven’t told you? I found a clerk in the Levan Motel that saw a broken down Chevy and a blonde in a sports car. They came in for a half hour fling the night Deek was shot. He described the captain. Just didn’t get a good close-up view.”
“I’ll see if I can check up on it,” Barker said as he opened the door and acted like he was reviewing his notes. “You slip out while I distract anyone that might be watching by knocking on the front door.”
He’d backed up within a few feet of the garage. The cover of the driver’s door would hide them from view of the street. Barker opened the back door, then reached back inside to pick up his metal file holder.
“Don’t use your phone. I’m sure Bingham’ll be monitoring it to find you. Keep in touch. You’ve got three days before I come to get you. If he finds you first, I’m not sure I can keep you alive.” Stacey and Sig slipped out from the back seat and in through the garage door.