HE SHINY GRAY HEARSE inching its way down State Street seemed out of place among the long double column of police cars, lights flashing. Stacey looked on, his senses alert for any sign of danger. As the procession approached the cemetery entrance, all but ten of the cars continued on down the street. Each hit the siren as it passed the gate in honor of a fallen comrade. Stacey watched, wishing he could be present to support his friend’s family. Startled by the ringing of the cell phone, he pulled it from under the seat. It rang six or seven times, then quit.
The hearse stopped near the grave site. Stacey was too far away to see faces, but recognized Dianne and her family. The cell phone rang again. This time Stacey answered it, figuring that, if traced, they would find it abandoned in the cemetery. He pressed the send button and listened.
“Stacey, is that you?” He recognized the captain’s voice. “My men aren’t as good as me. When I find you—and I will—you won’t walk away alive.” Bingham went on to describe in graphic detail a knife stuck deep in Stacey’s spine.
Patiently listening until Bingham had expended his venom, Stacey calmly spoke. “Will you still smell like a dirty diaper?” He then turned off the phone. Since no one could follow a dead signal, he put it in his pocket. It might come in handy.
Stepping out of the vehicle, he walked over a slight rise, there to watch his fellow officers ceremoniously remove the flag from the casket and carefully fold it. Deek’s family stood in a row as Barker presented Dianne the folded flag.
Stacey couldn’t hear Barker whisper to Dianne, “Stacey wanted to be here,” but saw Dianne look up to where he stood.
“He is!” she whispered in return. Barker didn’t turn to look out of fear of drawing attention to the far-off, solitary figure who slipped out of sight and down the hill among the headstones and pine trees.
Don interrupted his work and returned to the office for lunch. Not in the mood to discuss the condition of his father—and fearing his emotions might creep up on him again—he’d purposely come in late. Having mentioned to Jeff that he would need to leave again soon to attend his father’s funeral, Jeff had asked if he could work at least half a day the next Saturday to run an inventory of powders. Don had agreed, and looked forward to spending the second half of the day with his daughter. They hadn’t done much together the last several days. Cecily showed up in the lunchroom a few minutes after Don arrived.
“Hi,” Cecily said, breaking the ice.Ill at ease, Don felt just like a teenager, wondering if they were making up or not.
“I’m sorry about your dad. How is he?” she continued.
“He hasn’t spoken since I left. I don’t know how he keeps holding on.” He wanted to tell her everything that had happened–the promise he had made to his father without knowing what he’d committed to do, the ride on the bus, the young man who helped him understand his father’s message, his encounter with Melvin and all about Stacey. Cecily was his best friend. But was he hers? He wasn’t sure if he could trust his heart to her or not. Every ounce of him wanted to love her, to feel her in his arms, to kiss her. He was even willing to live by her standards, if that’s what it took. He just wasn’t sure if she would take to someone who seemed so unreliable. Most good Mormon girls wouldn’t marry anyone outside their faith, he thought. How did he stand a chance?
“How much longer do they expect him to hang on?” Her voice nudged him from his thoughts.
“He can’t last much longer. They’ve removed the feeding tubes.” “Will you go back up to the funeral?”
“I plan to. He requested a natural burial and a simple funeral,” Don explained. “He doesn’t want to be embalmed, so it’ll take place within 24 hours after he goes.”
“Would you let me drive you when it’s time?”
The question took him by surprise. She’d just said the words he’d hoped to hear. She was still interested in him. “Okay,” was his simple answer. His tongue was tied, but his heart was jumping for joy.
Cecily had been equally unsure, still wondering if he liked her or not. After all, he hadn’t called her when he got back, he hadn’t spoken to her at work that day, and now she’d offered to drive him to Boise for his father’s funeral and all he could say was “Okay”?!
“Well, better get back to work,” she said, feeling rejected.
Don’s mind wrestled for something else to say. Did she really want to go with him, or had she offered just out of pity? He wanted to thank her for her friendship and concern for his daughter. In that moment, he felt a closeness to her that he had never felt before. But how could he tell her?
Cecily stood to go. As she made her way to the office door, she longed for him to call her back and tell her he’d missed her. She ached to tell him that when she heard his voice on the phone she felt butterflies. But no words were spoken, and she returned to her desk.
Don returned to the powder shed, his sandwich and chips still in hand. The two days he’d taken off had put him way behind. Working late was the only way he could possibly get caught up.
He installed the harmonics generator and ran wires to boxes at every floor vent in the house. This equipment’ll drive the bugs from the house! he thought to himself.
Melvin’s renters had long ago worn out their welcome. Now he needed his privacy. Who would have known things were going to escalate so rapidly? And with a cop around he couldn’t take care of one very important item of business. The ingenuity of his set-up made him grin with delight.
The mass of people at the cemetery had nearly dispersed. Mr. White and Barker stood several yards away. “Here’s your warrant,” White said, handing over a folded document. “Be careful. We can’t afford to lose any more of our officers.”
Barker took the pages. “Demick give you any trouble?” “No, he’s just about had all he can take of this, though. State attorney general might run an investigation on the allegations the judge is being blackmailed by Melvin Briggs. Anything new with you?”
Barker gave a subtle shake of his head and stared off in the distance. “Not much. We can’t find anything more on Bingham. Not surprisingly, his files have disappeared, and there’re no records on file with the Driver’s License Division. We’ve been following a lead Stacey found in Virginia. Same with that officer....It’s weird. It seems like he doesn’t even exist—nor ever did.”
“Let’s get him in county lock-up and see if he exists,” White nodded. “You take as many county men as you need.”
“Thanks.”
“I think I’ll pay my respects to Mrs. Derickson.” Mr. White turned away.
Dianne had stayed at the grave site. Seeking closure to the bitterly painful events of the past several days, she wanted to be there when they lowered the casket into the concrete vault and covered it with the lid.
Stacey decided to see what he could get on Bingham. His house was situated in the river bottoms up the canyon, backed by the river. If he used the dense tree cover and the broken old fishing pole he’d found along the banks, no one would even notice him. He didn’t believe Bingham would be home.
Stacey spent more than an hour pretending to fish, gradually working along the river. Finally he reached a point some 50 yards away from the house. Then he noticed three men coming his way. His heart began to race. Desperate, he glanced downstream—and saw three more men coming from the other direction! All six were clearly marked as police. Only one of them paid any attention to him; the others headed for the house. Being arrested before he broke into the captain’s house hadn’t been part of the plan.
“I need you to move along,” the officer said gruffly, pointing down river.Stacey nodded and gladly turned back in the direction he’d come. The officer, however, hadn’t said anything about how far he should move along. So, still in sight of the house, Stacey crouched by a clump of brush to watch. He peered through the undergrowth as the officers initiated the break-and-enter. He could hear them yelling—and was glad he wasn’t inside.
In less than an hour the house was empty. Stacey continued his fishing masquerade. He decided he’d wait until dark to enter.Christina came in the door from school. Danny was in the study working on the computer. “Dad said they fixed the problem with their system. I don’t think it’s any better. I’ve already gotten part way in,” he said, working at the keyboard, “And I’m just a kid....”
“I went to Melvin’s house at lunch.”
Danny stopped what he was doing. “What if he saw you?” “I made sure his car was gone before I went around back.” “Sure, that would stop him from coming home!”
“Listen, he’s put new bolts on the door. They have some kind of
glue on them.”
“Good, we can’t go back,” he said, knowing she was thinking of
some sort of plan.
“The shed’s put together with screws. We can hide behind it and
take out a few, lift up the metal and crawl in. It’s even better because
no one will know we’re inside.”
“I was afraid you’d have another idea.”
“I wonder if you could get into Melvin’s computer and see what
he’s doing.”
“You want me to dig in the shed for dead bodies and hack his
equipment?”
“Well, I don’t know how to do it.”
“I do—” The words just came out!
She smiled. “Let’s see how things go tomorrow. Maybe we can do
both.”
“Sure,” Danny said, and went back to his project.
Five o’clock came and went. Cecily waited for Don to come up to the office. By five-thirty a gloom had come over her. He’s probably doing this on purpose, she brooded. His hesitant acceptance of her offer at lunch made her begin to reconsider their relationship. He wanted to go further than I was willing the other night. Maybe he wants sex more than a relationship. After all, he’s been without a woman for a long time. He must think I’m a prude, and only accepted my offer so he didn’t have to ride the bus again.
Before long she decided she’d better just tell him that after thinking it over, she wouldn’t be able to take him to Boise after all–and be done with it—and him. Maybe they could still be friends. And when the clock hit five forty-five she got in the Jeep and drove away, sure her heart was breaking.
Don finally finished all the orders. He hadn’t paid attention to the time, but still hoped he could catch a ride with Cecily. Seeing the Jeep gone, he mounted the bike and started for home. She hadn’t come to tell him she was leaving.
Before he got to the end of the lane, the back tire was completely flat. Climbing off, he began walking it home.In the Jensen home, meanwhile, Jake and his friend Bryce had come up with a dozen new ideas to share with Don on how to drive Melvin crazy. When Kate heard their scheming, she decided it was time to end this. She hadn’t been very happy with Alan, what with his wild ideas from the night before. And she wasn’t about to stand by and let her children get mixed up with a killer–much less provoking him!
After her no-nonsense talk with Alan, he’d come to realize that he’d made an unwise decision. He’d placed his children in harm’s way, involving them in such dangerous activities, and he wouldn’t hear of any more tricks.
Following his talk with the children, Danny announced that he was making headway into breaking the new security system. Alan didn’t believe he could do it. His programmer had told him it would be impossible.
Nearing dinnertime, Christina asked her aunt if she’d seen or heard from her dad. Kate suggested she call Cecily to see if they were together.
“The last I knew he was workin’ late,” Cecily said when Christina called.
“Will you go with me to look for him?”
Cecily hesitated, then agreed. It might be a good time to tell Christina they probably wouldn’t be getting together anymore.
Before long, Christina had buckled herself in the Jeep and they were whizzing along in the direction of Cobblecrete. Christina promptly broached the subject of why her dad hadn’t ridden home with her.
Cecily was a woman who believed the direct route was the only route. “I don’t think your Dad’s interested in seeing me,” she said point-blank.
“Are you kidding? He’s crazy about you!”
“Why do you say that?”
“I can see it in his eyes. Can’t you?”
They hadn’t driven half a mile when they saw Don pushing the bike on the shoulder of the road. He glanced up and his countenance changed. He stood straighter and smiled, he even ran his hand through his hair to smooth it down. Christina laughed as they pulled over to the curb. “See, he feels better just seeing you.”
“Christina was worried,” Cecily called out cautiously.
“I’m afraid this bike wasn’t made for a man my size.” “We’ll give you a ride the rest of the way.”
Don was hungry and tired. He’d been up half the night dealing with Melvin, and early that morning with Officer Stacey. He’d worked longer than usual, in temperatures at a hundred degrees. He’d ridden a bike with half-flat tires to work and walked the same bike home. It’d been almost too much for one day. A ride would be much appreciated.
But there was a problem–his clothes were covered in a powdery palette of colors that would get all over the Jeep’s seats, he explained. “You can take the bike and I’ll walk the rest of the way.” He put the bike in the back of the Jeep.
Cecily wasn’t surprised at the snub. She’d actually expected it.
“He’s just very tired,” Christina assured Cecily as they drove away. Neither of them had fully appreciated the magnitude of the burdens he was carrying. Cecily dropped Christina off and helped unload the bike. She was eager to leave before he got home.
“Bye, Christina. Hope I’ll see you later,” she said, as she drove away.
As he trudged the last few blocks to the Jensen home, Don had time to think of what he’d just done. Cecily had said nothing about her wanting to see him, only that Christina was worried. She hadn’t come to see him at all; she’d come only because his daughter had called. He turned the corner—the Jeep was gone. Just like after work, she hadn’t waited. Maybe it was for the best. A relationship might complicate things right now. A wave of sadness settled over him as he tried to adjust his thoughts to the loss. His brain tried to compensate for the void he felt by rationalizing: all the flirting must have been a game. She gets the guy where she wants him and drops him. No wonder she’s still single.
Don asked Christina to see if Kate would let him make a long distance call. She could bring the mobile phone to the door so he wouldn’t need to go inside. She soon returned.
“She says you don’t need to ask,” Christina said, handing him the phone.
The call revealed that his father’s condition hadn’t changed. Pressing the end button, he turned to Christina and apologized for his having to go away so quickly before, and promised that they could spend the next afternoon together after he worked the morning shift. She was pleased—both that they could be together and, more importantly, that now she’d have the chance to get away that morning and see what was in the shed.
It was dark in the river bottoms. Two steep mountainsides, rising a quarter mile on each side, blocked whatever sunlight remained.
Stacey approached the house from the rear and entered through the badly jimmied door. Indirect light from the western sky made it through the high upper windows, casting faint shadows on the empty rooms. How’d the captain move out so quickly? Then he realized the carpets didn’t show any furniture marks. Mostly paper plates and cups filled the kitchen shelves. Only a bed and nightstand met the bare necessities of the upstairs bedroom, and clothes were scattered on the floor and in the closet. Not even a phone was to be seen. No wonder the search team had been in and out so quickly. There was nothing to search. He opened the door to the garage, but immediately saw that the place was bare. Bingham clearly had been ready to take flight.
Stacey opened the back door a crack and peeked out. In that instant, a dark figure ran from the trees toward the house. Leaving the door ajar, he moved his way behind an empty pantry door, drew the captain’s revolver, and pointed it through the one-inch opening.
All at once something touched him on the back of the neck, sending Stacey recoiling sideways into the pantry’s wall. Reflexively reaching up and slapping away at whatever it was, he discovered a pull chain to a light dangling from the ceiling. Okay, so a light bulb was directly overhead; did that mean he’d soon have a great idea?
After a breathless minute, the back door slowly creaked open and someone walked through the kitchen, stopped a few feet from where he was hiding and began rolling the fridge from its place. Stacey could hear the man grunt as he lugged it out. He wore military head gear, which included both a heat sensor and a lamp. Stacey could see exactly what he was doing. He brought out a tool and began removing the screws from the back panel of the refrigerator. With the panel part way off, the man reached inside and pulled out a small object, placed it in his pocket and rolled the refrigerator back in place.
Having a vague idea how the headgear’s heat-sensing capability worked, Stacey assumed the door was sufficient protection from his body heat. What he didn’t realize was that his few minutes in the small opening was actually building a “shadow” of heat—a shadow that finally caught the intruder’s eye. Not expecting anyone in the house, he walked toward the pantry door. Stacey reached up and grasped ahold of the pull chain. The very instant the door opened, Stacey yanked down on the chain. The blinding light gave him a splitsecond advantage. The man reached to draw his weapon, but Stacey was too fast. He caught the hand, jerked it back over the man’s shoulder, and sent him sprawling to the floor, his headgear skidding onto the floor a few feet away. Still struggling to get his gun—and to catch his breath from the hard slam he’d taken—the man suddenly felt a cold barrel on the side of his head.
“Don’t do that.” Stacey tightened his grip. He could feel the tendons and bones stretch and strain under his grip. The man made no sound. “What did you pick up, my friend?” No answer. “I met your buddies the other night. Who are you?” Still no answer. “Well, you don’t seem to know anything that can help me—maybe I should just let you go.” Stacey increased the pressure to the arm; any more, he judged, would snap the bone in two. “Now give me your other arm.”
The glint of agony that shone in his attacker’s eyes told Stacey he’d do anything to comply, in hopes the pain would let up. Stacey also brought the man’s foot up and took a shoelace from the shoe. In a moment, both arms were tied tightly together, twisted at a grotesque angle behind his back.
Using his arms as a lever, Stacey rolled the man to the side and took a gun, cell phone and a thick ballpoint pen from inside his dark jacket. There was nothing more. Putting the goods in his own pocket, he removed the almost dead phone he carried and clipped it to the back of his guest’s pants, all the while questioning his captive. Still unwilling to volunteer any information, Stacey hog-tied the man’s hands and feet so tightly the laces dug into his skin. “I assume you’ll see my old friend Bingham, or whatever his name is. Tell him I have whatever it is in the pen you so carefully came to get. I’ll keep the gun, thanks. Maybe the phone has enough battery left to call him. He just might come and bail you out. I’ll turn this phone on at eleven. Tell him he can call me then.” Stacey picked up the headgear and turned out the light.
“He’ll kill you,” the man snarled, writhing on the floor.
Stacey turned and slipped away into the darkness.
Don finished his shower and lay down to rest. He knew Melvin was home, since the car was in the drive. He wondered where Stacey had gone—
Suddenly his ears felt like they were going to burst! Covering them offered no relief as he flailed about on the bed. He tried to stand but couldn’t keep his balance. Then, as abruptly as the sensation had started, it quit. Only Melvin’s high-pitched laughter drifted down through the heat vents. What’s he up to?
Then the noise—or whatever it was—started up again. His head reeled. Everything went out of focus, and he capsized onto the floor and half-crawled to the door—before it again quit, followed once more by the laughter.
Don staggered into the front room and out the door, locking it behind him. He needed to come up with a better idea than last night’s party if he wanted to get any sleep. Regaining his equilibrium, he mounted Christina’s bike and rode off down the street.