Take the Shot

TAKE THE SHOT

TAKE THE SHOT

Bob McElwain

Foremost Press Cedarburg, Wisconsin

Bob McElwain [email protected] Copyright ©  Bob McElwain. All rights reserved. Reproduction of any part of this publication in any way requires written permission from the author. Published by Foremost Press

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity of characters or events to real persons or actual events is coincidental.

To the Reader: I hope you enjoy reading this tale as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Prologue Lisa Anders, mug in hand, walked toward the coffee urn. She was aware of those who tracked the progress of her willowy slenderness; the attention always pleased her. She moved with an efficiency that, of itself, lent grace. Her light brown hair was loosely combed straight back into a short ponytail. She brushed an errant strand from her eyes as she bent to fill her mug. Suddenly she froze. It was as if the hum and clatter arising from the bustle in the newsroom had been abruptly silenced by a mysterious alien force. “She was forced three times vaginally,” Les Shafer had said to Benny Goldman who worked the rewrite desk with Lisa. “And twice orally.” When scalding hot coffee overflowed the mug, Lisa was yanked back instantly from ugly thoughts to now. She grabbed the mug with her left hand, shaking her right in a futile effort to cool it. Les continued, saying, “But we can’t print that. Or anything about the way in which she was murdered.” Sucking on a scalded knuckle, Lisa turned back the way she had come. As she moved toward her desk, the tremble in her hand brought unnoted spills from the too-full mug. She overcorrected on a wrong turn, and spilled more. How in God’s name could this upset me so, she wondered. Tammy MacAlister had been raped and murdered five days ago. While it was still headline news, it wasn’t news to her. All media outlets were pumping it. And there was extensive national attention. Morbid attention, some perhaps mixed with dark, twisted sexual fears or even fantasies. As she slipped into her chair, she set the mug down, then gazed at the computer monitor without seeing it. She knew 1

2

Bob McElwain

why they couldn’t print the details. The police did not want to publicize the MO. And she knew exactly how the woman had died. She shuddered at thoughts of that. Brutal images had been assaulting her since she first heard the reports. She continued to seek to slow their quantity and intensity. The impact of what Les had said, words she’d heard before and often repeated in her mind, assured her these attacks would persist for some time. Abruptly she pounced on the keyboard, ignoring the coffee growing cold. Long slender fingers struggled to keep up with dashing thoughts. If you have been raped, you have two choices. You must immediately begin a lifelong struggle to restore mental health and continue embracing the best life has to offer. Or break your nails digging a deep hole in the dreary recesses of your mind, crawl into it, pull your murky despairs and dreads over top of yourself, and turn off the world. The latter is an unacceptable choice. As she worked, her plain features were dominated by her eyes glowing with the intensity of her racing thoughts. She was vaguely aware of an occasional odd look from those around her. She didn’t realize the undercurrent of anger pervading her thoughts was clear to all. Nor would she have cared had she known. Engrossed in the task, she refused to even acknowledge the presence of anyone else in the room. Life was the monitor screen fi lled with words, inadequate tools for expressing intimate details and powerful feelings. Always a harsh critic, she was even more critical of herself. Phrases and sentences were slashed or rewritten. Entire paragraphs abruptly disappeared, to be replaced in another rush. All was examined word by word. Any change often led to a host of others. When she finally leaned back, satisfied, she glanced at the clock. :. Except for the night crew drifting in, the newsroom was empty and oddly still.

Take the Shot

3

She hit the Print key and transferred a copy to Editorial. She slipped into the hip-length jacket and scooped up the pages from the printer. At the sink, she dumped the long-cold coffee, rinsed the cup, and set it on the sideboard with the others. The boss wasn’t in. She floated her work into the center of his desk, then strode toward the exit. “If he doesn’t run that,” she murmured, “I’ll find another job.” ◆

◆

◆

Lisa wasn’t into eating. She had finished what she wanted of lunch, when Amy Barret sat down in a chair beside her. “That article is super great,” she said with a warm smile. Her tawny red hair was immaculately groomed as always. The white blouse under the lightweight jacket was drawn tautly across full breasts. She always showed lots of cleavage, and she thoroughly enjoyed the attention it brought. “Did you know the boss even put it on the wire?” she asked excitedly. Lisa nodded, smiling at the enthusiasm for living Amy shared with all. “Also the first with my byline. I’m thrilled.” “You should be. My congratulations.” Amy reached over and gave her hand a firm squeeze. “I’m glad you’re not into the political scene,” she said with a smile. It turned into a grin when she added, “I couldn’t bear the competition.” “I’m sure,” Lisa said. It was difficult to beat Amy in any way. Only thirty, she was already a significant force at the political desk. “Seriously, you have a future in women’s issues. I’ve said all along you’ll have a regular column before you know it.” She blushed, the pinkish glow startling against her pale Nordic complexion. “I hope you’re right,” she said with a sigh. As Amy attacked the ham and cheese sandwich with her usual enthusiasm, talk turned to Tammy’s murder. Lisa’s light, bright, blue eyes flared with anger as she said, “He jammed a . into her vagina so hard it tore the entrance.” She paused, shaking her head. “I wonder what she said. ‘Please?’ Or perhaps, ‘Please don’t.’ ” Her mouth was a grim slash when she added, “I bet the bastard laughed as he pulled the trigger.”

4

Bob McElwain

Amy shuddered. “That is so ugly, I’m afraid to think about it,” she murmured, looking down at the table. When she looked up, she said, “I know what happened matters, Lisa, but can we change the subject?” She took a deep breath. “That’s a good idea.” She took a sip of the now-cold coffee as she glanced about the room crowded with others on their lunch break. When Amy leaned closer, she said sharply, “What mischief are you planning now?” “It’s only a small group. My place. Friday. Can you make it?” “He’s a hunk, right?” “Absolutely. Would I lie to you?” “Is this another one you tried out just for me?” “Not exactly,” she said with a grin. “I was going with Gary at the time. Remember him?” Lisa nodded. “Would he toss me onto your bed? Or would he wait for an invitation to come to my place?” “No. No. Don’t do that. Go to his place.” “Why?” “He’s got this incredible sound system. I mean it’s gorgeous. And he’s got great cuts of any kind of music you can name.” She shook her head as if still not believing it was so. She leaned even closer. “He’s hooked on blue silk sheets. And there are satiny pillows everywhere. But it’s the mirrors,” she said with a sigh, remembering. “On every wall. And on the ceiling.” She shuddered. “What a turn-on. It’s absolutely fantastic.” “You were going with Gary when you discovered all this?” “Well, yes.” Amy managed at least a faint blush. “But he is such a total hunk, I simply couldn’t pass up his offer.” “Why did you let him go?” “I just couldn’t make up my mind. You know how I am about these things.” “Yes,” Lisa said, smiling. “But that brilliant mind of yours has nothing to do with these kinds of decisions.” Now Amy blushed. “I’m awful, aren’t I?” Then she straightened, thrusting her chest forward. “But look at what I can offer a man. Don’t you think I should share?”

Take the Shot

5

Lisa’s smile broadened. They’d often showered together after a workout at the gym. Amy was truly Playboy centerfold material. “You’re incorrigible,” she said. Amy nodded with a grin, then again leaned closer. “Won’t you come? He is a hunk, honest.” “I’d rather do my own picking.” “But when? I worry about you. You don’t even make the moves.” She swept Lisa with a look from head to toe. “Your hair looks like an old mop ignored in the back of a closet.” She reached out and tossed the lapels of Lisa’s jacket to the side. “Look at those clothes. Where’d you find that bra? Where’s the class? How are you going to get a man’s attention the way you’re dressed?” Both leaned closer and continued the old debate, each aware neither would convince the other. ◆

◆

◆

Lisa wanted to accept Amy’s invitation, to just flow into it all, into those essential, elemental rhythms Amy so enjoyed. While she had never acted upon one of Amy’s judgements, she believed in them. Why Amy continued to move on to yet another man puzzled Lisa, for she loved each and every one of them. As she turned down the aisle toward her desk, she realized she was picturing blue, silk sheets and satin pillows. She smiled. Then built another image of a man embracing her as she watched them both in mirrors overhead. It seemed so right. She shivered as she sat down in the chair in front of the monitor. Not for the first time she wondered if her hungers were unreasonable. She sighed, picked up an assignment, read it quickly, then began typing. As the afternoon slipped by, images of blue, silk sheets, satin pillows, and mirrors taunted her. ◆

◆

◆

6

Bob McElwain

Several people stopped by Lisa’s desk to praise her work and cheer her success. She blushed often in response to frank remarks shared with enthusiasm. She was a bit awed by the unexpected support. This mattered more to her than the words spoken. About four, a man perched himself on the edge of her desk. When she looked up, George Sheffield, her boss, was smiling down at her like a teacher at his prized pupil. “Very nice work, Lisa. I like the authenticity.” “Thank you, George. I was hoping you would.” “It’s time for us to meet,” he said. “About?” she responded, aware her heart was racing. “Set aside Friday afternoon,” George said. “Say one to three. We need to begin thinking of a weekly column for you.” “Oh my God,” she cried. “Do you think I’m ready for that?” “I wouldn’t suggest it if you weren’t,” George replied, broadening his smile. “Can you make it?” “Try to stop me,” Lisa said evenly, with a smile to match his. George nodded, then added, “Apart from that, put together some notes. I’d like to see more along the lines of what is running today. Particularly right now.” “I’ll get something to you as soon as I can.” She watched as he nodded, stood, then strolled down the aisle. She knew what he wanted. With rape and murder still in the headlines, anything about this ugly subject would receive attention. She smiled at his suggestion about putting some notes together. She was certain she already had more than enough for a great book, maybe even two. The last images of silk and mirrors faded as she drove long slender fingers more rapidly about the keyboard. She worked in an almost automatic mode, her thoughts awhirl with what she must do to convince George he really did need a weekly column from her. Enjoying the warmth of nice things said, she again lost track of time. But when people began sharing goodnights, she glanced at the clock. It was already :. But she was so close to finishing the piece she was working with, she went back to it with a furious rush of keystrokes. By

Take the Shot

7

the time she was satisfied, she was again alone in the newsroom, except for the night crew arriving. Still celebrating what to her had been an exceptional day, one to be remembered and cherished, she slipped on her jacket, made her way out of the offices, and down the stairs to the street. Evening traffic was heavy, but she had the sidewalk to herself. She turned up the walk, still holding the day closely. The man who dashed around the corner of the building seemed to be running rather than jogging. Startled, she stopped abruptly and moved closer to the building to give him room. He was so intent on his task, she didn’t think he had even noticed her. He wore pale blue sweats that his shoulders filled nicely. While it wasn’t more than warm, his face was streaked with sweat. As he was about to pass, he seemed to suddenly jump at her. She watched in amazement and horror as blood exploded across the left side of his chest, as he stumbled, then crashed awkwardly to the sidewalk. Paralyzed, she watched blood pool beneath his shoulders and head. Behind her, at the bottom of the steps to the offices above, a woman screamed. Suddenly Lisa was running. Moments later she rounded the corner, then dashed toward her car.

◆

◆

◆

It was eight when Lisa drove cautiously into the underground garage beneath her apartment. While she didn’t really know what to look for, she anxiously examined everything she saw. The nickel-plated, Smith & Wesson . revolver lay on the seat beside her leg. She had been driving aimlessly through the city. At one point she had parked on a quiet residential street and cried for over half an hour. She had struggled in vain to unearth the reason for doing so. Finally, feeling there was no place else to turn, she had driven toward her apartment, the place that was home, at least for now. After parking the car, she hastily tucked the short-barreled pistol into her purse and hurried toward the stairs. She clutched

8

Bob McElwain

the weapon firmly, hidden within her purse. With her eyes, she inspected everything in sight. She reached the door to her apartment without having seen anyone, or anything out of place or unusual. She slipped quickly inside, letting the door lock behind her. Then she threw the bolt lock closed. She stood for a moment, leaning against the door, breathing heavily. Finally, as if bearing a heavy load, she made her way into the kitchen. She took the pistol from her purse, then set it and the purse on the counter next to the phone. It was oddly difficult to slip out of her long jacket, and to hang it on the back of a chair at the kitchen table. She had not been able to define why she had cried for half an hour. And she was unable now to find a source for the increasing fears and dreads that threatened to overwhelm her. She knew it was there. The reason. It was only just beyond her grasp. Her heart skipped several beats when the authoritative knock on the door reverberated through the silence. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the . and walked unsteadily toward the door. Through the peep hole, she saw two men standing well away from the door, each dangling Los Angeles Police Department identification wallets. She shook her head to clear unwanted and incomplete thoughts. Determinedly she opened the bolt lock, then the door. “Come in,” she said, her voice not sounding right to her. Both men looked sharply at the .. “I’ve a permit,” she said, then returned the pistol to the counter in the kitchen. When she turned, both men were close. Too close, it seemed to her. The door had been latched without sound. “I’m Lt. Parker,” the tall slender black man said. “This is Officer Hastings,” he continued, nodding toward his partner. “May we sit down?” The man had a quiet dignity about him. And his soft voice and simple manner added to her sense of confidence in him. She nodded toward the kitchen table, then collapsed into the nearest chair.

Take the Shot

9

Once seated, Lt. Parker continued. “Have I got this right, Ms. Anders? You were standing beside the Los Angeles Herald Building at about : this afternoon?” Lisa nodded. “Can you tell me what you saw?” “I watched a man die,” she replied tonelessly. “Can you describe what you saw?” “There isn’t much.” She paused, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I was a little late leaving the office. I was only a few feet from the steps to the entrance, when a man ran around the corner toward me. I guess it might be more accurate to call it jogging, but he was moving quickly. “It startled me. So I stopped, then stepped back to give him more room. I didn’t hear a shot, but I saw blood explode from the left side of his chest. Then he stumbled and fell.” She paused, covering her face with her hands. “It was awful and ugly and terrifying,” she murmured between her fingers. “Did you notice anything else at all?” Lt. Parker asked quietly. “No,” she replied, placing her hands flat on the table. “I looked both ways when I stepped to the sidewalk. I don’t remember seeing any other pedestrians. But the street was crowded with evening traffic.” “Did you notice anything unusual about the cars passing close to you?” “No. When I left the office, my mind was filled with the day. When the jogger startled me, my attention was entirely on him.” “Why did you run?” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know,” she said to the table. When she looked up, she said, “There is a reason, I think. It’s as if it’s almost within reach. But I don’t know what it is.” Officer Hastings looked as if he wanted to challenge such muddle-headed thinking. Lt. Parker had raised an eyebrow, but otherwise his pleasant expression had not changed. “Who was he, do you know?” Lisa asked. “Derrick Baldwin. The minister of a local church. Apparently he was a good man and father. He is survived by his wife and two children.”

10

Bob McElwain

“Ministers don’t usually have a lot of enemies, do they?” she asked. “Not usually.” “Could this have been some sort of drive-by shooting? Just a random thing, I mean?” “Did you see anything that might suggest this?” “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just wondering.” “We don’t know much yet, Ms. Anders.” He laid his card on the table, then stood, grace and elegance in every move. By contrast, Officer Hastings nearly knocked the chair over when he stood. “Can I call someone for you?” Lt. Parker asked. Lisa thought of Amy. But then she remembered the “big” date tonight. “Thank you for the offer, Lieutenant.” She smiled wanly. “But I don’t know anyone available tonight.” He nodded. “Will you call me if you discover that reason?” “Yes, I will,” she said firmly. “We can let ourselves out,” he said. She watched them leave, watched the door latch behind them, walked tiredly over to close the bolt lock, managed to get as far as the couch, then collapsed upon it, crying once again. It was after midnight, when it came to her. The reason for running, the tears, and the rising fears. Then it all crashed down upon her, a pain that could not be erased by tears. She had struggled so, these last nine years. She felt confident about her writing in a balanced way. Yes, there was much to be learned, but her present skills produced consistently good material. It had been more difficult to rebuild confidence in herself. She felt she had done well, except for her hangups about sexual matters. Now all had vanished. A man she didn’t know had decided she must die. She would leave this city she had come to love as she had once been forced to leave her home. And to leave her friends, as she had back then. And she must abandon her dreams of writing. It was after two, lying on her pillow, gripping the . beneath it, that she asked the questions she knew would haunt her for

Take the Shot

11

a considerable time. She would leave; it was the only sensible thing to do. But where would she go? Who would she be when she got there?

Chapter 1 Todd Hallster laid down the fork and chewed slowly on the last bite of the delicious sirloin steak. Delightful scents and aromas wafted from the kitchen out over the service counter into the cozy room. The chocolate-brown eyes overflowed with curiosity as he looked about once more. The broad lips curled up at the corners, giving a sense of a smile, of secrets discovered still unknown to others. The norm here was contented people enjoying good food. A baby cried behind him and a woman cooed softly. The occasional boisterous shriek of a youngster blended with laughter. In the back room, a crowd was singing Happy Birthday with more vigor than talent. He smiled. These were sounds he enjoyed. He had already added Pop Pa Joe’s to his mental list. Now he underlined it. A man of shoulders, the power was largely hidden by the loose fitting, khaki, hip-length jacket. There was an outdoor look about him, hints of snowy, rocky peaks sparkling in bright sunlight. He reached for his wallet, pulled out a twenty, then dropped it on top of the check, each move deliberate, precise. He was about to stand, when a young women rushed in from the parking lot behind the restaurant. He was surprised at how intensely she captured his attention. He eased back into the chair. Sure, she was tall, with that willowy-slender look he liked, but that wasn’t it. The light, bright, blue eyes were remarkable, particularly in contrast to the near-white Nordic complexion. She moved quickly

12

Bob McElwain

between tables as she examined all hastily. When she turned his way, he knew her destination had been determined. His habitual curiosity was suddenly intensified as her glance locked onto his. He had an unexpected urge to stand and greet her. Then she was upon him. She positioned the chair opposite him, then sat down quickly with an easy grace, a sense of flying skirts, long, slender legs, and female. “I’ll only be a moment,” she said in a rich, full contralto. She reached for the water pitcher, filled the glass in front of her, then drank thirstily. She was breathing heavily, as if she’d been running before hurrying inside. Todd noticed the light, easy mood lingering after a delightful lunch had suddenly vanished. It had been replaced by another, well remembered. He was ready. But what had triggered the change, he wondered. His feet were now positioned under the chair for a quick exit. He was automatically examining each motion noted. Only when certain no threat lay behind it, did he consider the next. He was keenly aware that the pistol was not available under his left arm. “Why me?” he asked with an easy smile. “You were the only man seated alone,” she said in a rush. The smile was forced. As she lifted the glass for another sip, he studied the eyes closely. Then he saw it. Fear was hunkered down low behind the bright intensity. For an instant, he thought he saw something more. Then it was gone. And he wasn’t sure he’d seen anything at all. “The fates have stated their wishes.” He spoke quietly as was his habit, but the resonant baritone carried. “I missed what they said.” “That we only need to decide between your place and mine.” “You have a married look.” “Henpecked? Or abused maybe?” “You just look married.” “I’m not.” He leaned forward. “You’re a great looking chick. . . .” “Woman,” she corrected.

Take the Shot

13

He continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “Would you like the job?” She tossed him a glance overflowing with scoffing scorn. “I didn’t catch the name,” he commented, leaning back. “Lisa Anders,” she said evenly. She didn’t offer her hand. “Todd Hallster,” he said, settling for a nod to acknowledge the introduction. “What is it you want of me?” “Nothing at all,” she snapped. “What are you afraid of?” “You, at the moment.” “Yeah,” he sighed. “I always have that effect on women.” He shook his head. “Could we get down to it?” “Somebody is following me. I only want to get away.” She didn’t seem whacked out. Or paranoid. He’d seen his share of such types. “Why not just go home?” She shook her head, than tucked an errant strand of hair back over her ear. “It isn’t safe,” she said. The fear was more pronounced. The growing tension in her shoulders and neck was easy to see. “What makes it unsafe?” “That’s my business, not yours.” He reached up and tugged at his ear for several moments, examining her tautly drawn features, particularly the remarkable eyes. He slipped his cell phone out and said, “Want me to call a cop?” She shook her head decisively. “Why not?” he asked, tucking the phone away. “It may be the police who are following me.” She was wearing a long, pale, blue jacket that tended to erase individual features. Not much of the plain white blouse was visible. There was only a hint of breasts. If she had meant to hide her body with her clothes, she’d done an excellent job. It was easy, though, to remember the long, slender legs. “That’s both rude and crude,” she snapped. “Trying to figure what you look like?” “It’s impolite and disrespectful.” “Uhmm.”

14

Bob McElwain

“You’re a chauvinist.” He nodded, watching her eyes. “One of the last of a nearly extinct species.” “Another man who doesn’t get it,” she muttered with a sigh. “A ‘True Believer.’ ” He shook his head in mock despair. “Where do you girls . . .” “Women.” “. . . collect those twisted absurdities you seem to cherish?” Lisa took another sip of water and stared at the red and white checkered table cloth. Todd straightened when he saw two men rush inside through the rear entrance. He forced a broad smile and gazed at Lisa as he watched them peripherally. “What is that silly grin for?” she demanded. “Two serious looking dudes . . .” “Men.” “. . . just came in the back way. If they’re looking for you, they won’t be expecting a happy couple over lunch.” When she started to turn, he said quickly, “No. Nod your head as if agreeing with me. Ignore them.” “This is silly,” she snapped, nodding her head. “They may be cops,” he murmured. They had quickly scanned the small crowded room. They were now headed for the entrance to the private dining room and the party sounds drifting out from the entry. “If you want to get loose, do exactly as I say.” “Or else?” “I’ll get on about my business and leave you to yours.” As the two men stepped into the entrance to the back room, he stood, smiling broadly at Lisa. “Stand up and take my arm. Laugh as we walk toward the door. Make like we haven’t a care.” Her eyes examined him closely; she was clearly unprepared for his size. She trembled with uncertainty. “Do it.” he said, without breaking the smile. “Now.” Suddenly she jumped up, tucked her arm in his, and they were moving. She tossed a lovely trilling laugh at the ceiling.

Take the Shot

15

It caught him by surprise. She had that kind of tough he liked, and more than a touch of class. “There’s an older baby-blue pickup,” he murmured, “parked in the middle of the next block to your right. A bunch of toolboxes line the bed. Once we’re outside, get to that truck and inside it just as quick as you can.” He reached for the door to the left as she reached for the one in front of her. “What are you going to do?” she demanded. “I’ll let you know when I figure it.” As the doors swung closed behind them, he said, “Go.” He needed a bar or wire, something to prevent the two outside doors from opening. He had such things in the truck, but there was no time for that. The instant he spotted the abandoned shopping cart forty feet up the sidewalk, he moved quickly. He scooped it up, dashed back to the double doors, then rammed the handle up under both doorknobs. He put his shoulders to the task, forcing the front of the cart as far toward the doors as he could with his foot. It wouldn’t stop anyone. He knew that. But even slowing things down could make the difference. He ran. Lisa was scrambling in on the passenger side of the truck as he dashed around the rear toward the driver’s side. The two men had broken out and were coming hard. He glanced at the traffic starting up from the light beyond them. Then he dove inside and fired the engine. “Wait,” Lisa cried, struggling to get the seatbelt latched. He laughed as he shoved the peddle to the floor. The Ford cleared the parked car to his front, but not by much. With an engine not noted for its acceleration, screeching tires and honking horns assured him he’d annoyed several drivers. As the truck lurched into the hard right at the corner, Lisa braced herself against the dash. He was still chuckling. “What’s so damned funny?” she demanded, still struggling to get the seatbelt latched. “You,” he replied. “Running for your life, so to speak, and worried about breaking the seatbelt law.” He shook his head, then laughed again. “Your priorities seem odd.”

16

Bob McElwain

He was taking a turn at every corner. Even with the seatbelt latched, Lisa was clinging to the armrest for balance. “Just what kind of game are you playing?” she demanded. “We’re clear of those two dudes . . .” “Men.” “. . . who came inside. But some folks use a second car when following another. We need to be sure.” A half mile further on, he turned up the ramp to the San Diego Freeway, southbound. While the engine had little punch, he let it wind, drifting over to the inside lane. He cruised at close to eighty for a couple of miles, weaving between lanes to pass a car in front of him. He watched traffic behind. To keep up, anyone following would also be forced to change lanes, making it easy to notice them. When satisfied they were alone, he sliced across four lanes of traffic, then forced the truck down the off ramp, breaking hard. “Oh my God,” Lisa cried, braced with one hand on the dash, the other clinging to the armrest on the door. At the bottom of the ramp, he took a right, stopped, then quickly backed down the adjacent one-way residential street. He parked in the shadow of a huge sycamore tree, but let the engine idle. He watched the flow of traffic down the off ramp. He saw nothing more unusual than poor judgement in pushing the light for a left turn. Five minutes later, he turned off the engine, certain they were clear. When he turned toward Lisa, her face was still pale, but she wasn’t as tense as she had been. “We’re good,” he said. “Can I drop you somewhere?” “Did I see some shops to the right?” He nodded. “Panorama City is off to the east. There’re a couple of motels farther down this street.” “This will do fine, then,” she said, reaching for the door handle. “How are you fi xed for money?” “I’ve my credit cards,” she said, puzzled. He reached for his wallet and counted out three hundreddollar bills. He tucked the wallet away and extended the bills toward her.

Take the Shot

17

“Do I look like a hooker?” “Do I look like I’d pay you for it if you were?” “Then just what is this for?” “Use your credit cards in stores and shops. But pay cash for a room.” “I don’t understand.” “If the dudes . . .” “Men.” “. . . looking for you are determined, they can have the name of the motel, the address, and your room number within an hour or two, if you register with a credit card.” She stared distastefully at the bills. He was beginning to feel silly, holding his arm out in mid-air. “Take it,” he said. “Pay it back when you can.” Finally she reached for the bills and tucked them into her purse. He fished out a business card, scribbled a number on the back of it, then extended it. “I live at that address. The first number is to a recorder. But if I’m home, I answer the second one. The number on the back is to my cell phone.” She took the card, then reached for the door. “One more thing,” he said. “What now?” she snapped. “When deciding where to stay, take a cab and get out of this area.” “Why does that matter?” “I think those two dudes . . .” “Men.” “. . . were cops. If so, one may have recognized me.” “How could that be?” He shook his head slowly. “Maybe later,” he said. “If I was recognized, someone will drop by with questions. I want to be able to say I don’t know where you are.” When she reached again for the door, he said, “Take care, okay?” It wasn’t much of a smile, but she was working at it when she turned back to him and said, “I’ll try.” She opened the heavy door and slipped down to the sidewalk. He had expected the

18

Bob McElwain

door to slam, but she only closed it firmly, then walked down the sidewalk. Abruptly Todd threw his door open. “Lisa?” he called after her, moving forward to lean on the front fender. She stopped and spun back toward him. “What?” she demanded, sharp edges around the word. Watching those remarkable eyes, he said, “Is there anything more I can do? Anything at all?” The tension drained from her suddenly. For a moment he thought he saw hope in her eyes, struggling against the fear. Then it was gone. She looked somehow younger than her years. Vulnerable. “No,” she said. “But thank you for the offer.” When he nodded, she turned and walked decisively down the sidewalk. He watched, noting the easy grace in the way she moved. And the remarkable legs. He sighed, shook his head, then climbed back into the truck. He watched until she disappeared from view. It had been a long time since a woman had grabbed him this way. All the spotlights on the stage in his mind were focused on her. He had seen an inner toughness he admired in anyone. Despite what she had said, he wondered if he should catch up with her and give it one more try. Finally he sighed again, then drove off. He’d like to have gotten to know her better, to learn more of that hidden tigress tossed at him from behind bright, blue eyes.

Chapter 2 It had been a faucet morning. Todd had replaced two sets of washers, a valve, and one fi xture. A reasonably profitable start on the day, he decided. As he turned onto Sayre, he knew immediately what the car in front of his house meant. Cops. Just what everyone needs

Take the Shot

19

when they arrive home. And he had a pretty good idea about what they wanted. He pulled the truck into the driveway and parked. He climbed out and walked toward the front of the house. As he rounded the corner, he smiled at the sight of the tall, slender black man. “Hey, Parker. I heard about the promotion. Congrats and like that.” He took the offered hand and clung to it. “Thanks. But I think it only means more responsibilities, hassles, headaches, and longer hours,” he said with his gentle smile. “May we come in?” “Sure.” Todd strode deliberately up the broad steps, opened the door, and waited for both men to enter. “Can I get you something?” he asked, as he ushered them to the left and on around into the dining room at the front of the house. “A dash of water with an ice cube would suit me,” Parker said. He turned to his partner. “Anything for you, Hastings?” The man shook his head, apparently uninterested in most everything. When Todd set a glass of water down, he slipped out of his jacket, draped it over the back of the chair, then sat down opposite his guests with a Bud. “Lt. Parker. That has a nice ring to it.” The man’s soft, easy smile broadened. “Maybe later I’ll celebrate.” “We’re talking about Pop Pa Joe’s, right?” Todd asked, rolling up the sleeves of the brown flannel shirt. Parker nodded. “One of the men following Lisa Anders recognized you.” “I didn’t make them,” he said, “but they kind of looked like cops.” “Why’d you run, then?” Officer Hastings demanded. “Flight to avoid arrest is a crime.” Todd stared at the man for a moment, then asked Parker, “Where’d you find him?” He yanked his thumb toward Hastings. “He was assigned,” Parker said, with a faint shrug. Todd took a sip and decided to ignore Hastings.

20

Bob McElwain

“Can you tell me where you dropped Ms. Anders?” Parker asked. “It slipped my mind,” Todd said, noting Hastings’ deep scowl. “Tell me a bit about all this and it might come back.” Parker only sighed. “She works for the Los Angeles Herald,” he began, then shared what he had learned. “The bullet hit Baldwin in the left side of his chest on a forward stride. Apparently it bounced off a rib into his heart. He died almost instantly. If it had been a rifle shot, Ms. Anders might have been hit as well; she was that close. “We’ve a witness, another employee. She saw Ms. Anders run. But both reported the same things. They saw no pedestrians. Only the evening traffic on the street. Apparently he was shot with a silenced . from a moving car.” “Why do you need to see her again?” Todd asked. “We’re spinning our wheels. The man was well-liked. We haven’t found anybody who will even believe he might have an enemy.” “There must be more.” “Ms. Anders was frightened when I saw her. She spoke rather cryptically about there being something she couldn’t grasp.” “She was flippy,” Hastings contributed. Parker shrugged. “We’re desperate for an idea, flippy or otherwise. So I’d like to ask her if that thought finally came to her.” “Got it,” Todd said, thinking about what he had glimpsed behind those remarkable eyes. He leaned out on the table and said, “I haven’t much.” He paused, tugged at his ear, then continued. “I had just finished lunch when she came in, took a bead on the empty chair at my table, and sat down. “It’s only a hunch, but she may have figured whatever it was she couldn’t tell you. Behind all the feminist-disapproval crap, she was awfully frightened. “Whatever, I got her out, into the truck, and away. I dropped her at Roscoe, just a block off the San Diego Freeway. When she walked off, she seemed to be heading toward Panorama City, and a motel down that way, but I don’t know where she ended

Take the Shot

21

up. I loaned her some cash for a room and explained why she shouldn’t use a credit card. If she took my advice, you won’t find her through her card. “I don’t have more. I wish I did. She just may be for real.” “Have you any idea what she might have discovered?” Parker asked. “No,” Todd replied, tugging at his ear. “I’ve a wild hairy guess, though, if you’re interested.” Parker leaned forward. “You have a good one now and then.” Todd gave his ear a final tug, then said, “When you visited her apartment, she was frightened, right?” Parker nodded. “But you felt there was something else, right?” “I’m not sure.” “I’m not either. But when she sat down at my table, she was a mess. I remember thinking fear didn’t explain it all. It still doesn’t. Sure, she saw a guy killed. And that can permanently change a person’s life. Particular up close like that. But this seemed worse some way.” “Like?” “If she was terrified, it would better explain what I saw. Would it make sense to you at her apartment?” “Yeah,” Parker said thoughtfully. “But of what?” “What if she was the target?” “Where in hell did that come from?” He shrugged. “It occurred to me, is all.” “Have you a possible motive?” He shook his head. “Not even a clue.” “Son of a bitch,” Parker muttered. “I wish I hadn’t asked.” He stood, as did Hastings. “You’ll call if you see her again?” Todd nodded, knowing he’d like to do exactly that. See her again. He rose and followed the two men out the door. He reached for Parker’s hand once more, then shook it vigorously. “Again, man, congrats. You can make a difference. I’m sure of it.”

22

Bob McElwain

“Thanks, Todd. I hope you’re right.” The two men turned away. Todd watched until they got into the car and drove off. Then he stepped back inside and closed the door. He wanted the answer to one question: What could have happened to make Lisa a target for a killer? He scooped up another Bud from the fridge and moved into the living room that was open to the kitchen. He sat down on the couch, lifted his scrapbook of news clippings, set it aside, and began going through the newspapers stacked below it. He subscribed to every paper in town. One was the Los Angeles Herald, the one Lisa worked for. When she had given her name, he had almost made a connection. But after talking with Parker, he was sure he had it. He found the article four days back, tucked in at the bottom of the second front page. Have You Been Raped? The byline was Lisa Anders. He read the article carefully. Then read it again. He leaned back in the couch to think about it. Good writing, he decided. A hard-hitting style that demanded attention and sustained it. And it all shouted of authority and sincerity. Lisa Anders understood what she was talking about. He tried to match the picture in his mind of the author of this powerful piece with what he had seen of the frightened young woman who had joined him at Pop Pa Joe’s. It wasn’t a good fit. He had known a few wimpy people who wrote powerful material. But he couldn’t picture the girl he had met writing this article. Something had happened that had nearly destroyed her. He was sure of it. His notion that she had been the target now seemed an even better bet. Three sharp knocks on the door brought an abrupt change of focus. He set the Bud down on the coffee table, walked across the room and glanced out the bay window at the front porch. It was Lisa Anders. He crossed mental fingers and reached for the doorknob. He had to handle this better than he had managed at Pop Pa Joe’s.

Take the Shot

23

He’d let her walk away once. He didn’t want it to happen again. But he couldn’t say why he felt it mattered so. When he opened the door, Lisa was standing well back, as if fearful of what might rush out at her unexpectedly. He’d forgotten the impact of those intense, light, bright, blue eyes. And that of the breadth of her mouth across the slenderness of her face. And he wondered how this could have happened. “Hi,” he said, smiling, wishing he had come up with something a bit stronger, or encouraging at least. “Why were the police here?” she demanded. She was dressed as he had seen her last. The long, blue, lightweight jacket covered most of her torso and drew straight lines down to her hips. There probably was a lovely body lurking beneath it all; he wondered why she didn’t let it show. She hadn’t been as careful with her hair this morning. Several strands dangled freely. “It turns out those were cops yesterday. One of them knew me.” “But how?” she demanded. “I was on the force for twelve years.” She did not so much back away, as to seemingly draw herself protectively inward. She was in need of rest; her features shouted of a near kin to exhaustion. It would be a lovely face, if the fears could be erased. And her shoulders seemed bowed; he hadn’t notice that before. “What did you tell them?” “Only where I left you off.” She rummaged around in the large shoulder bag he hadn’t seen before. “I went to the bank this morning,” she said in a rush. “Here’s your money.” She extended her hand. “Are you sure you won’t need it?” When she nodded, he took the bills and tucked them into his pocket. She seemed about to turn away, then paused as if uncertain about what to do next. “Want to come in?” he asked, opening the door further and stepping back. “No thank you.”

24

Bob McElwain

“What is it then?” As if finding it suddenly painful to speak, she asked, again quickly, “Do you know anyone who would take me in for a couple of days? I can pay.” “How much trouble are you in?” “That’s my business, not yours,” she said emphatically. “Uhmm,” he murmured. When he stepped out onto the porch and closed the door, she took a step backward. Staying well away from her, he moved forward and sat down on the top step. He patted the four feet of space beside him and said, “Sit down for a bit.” She stared down at him, her eyes expressionless. The hem of her skirt amplified faint tremors. “Do it,” he said quietly. “Or else?” “Go on about your business,” he said, “somewhere else.” For several moments he was certain he had lost this round. Then, with remembered quickness, she sat down beside him at the far edge of the step. “What now?” she demanded. “See the fellow cutting his lawn?” She looked at the man across the street for a moment with an expression he couldn’t read. Finally she nodded. “He’s Charlie Andrews. He always cuts up and down, then goes over it again, left to right. When he saw you, he started cutting up and down again. I’ve never seen him do that.” “Is there a point here?” He nodded toward the women two doors up, pruning roses. “She’s Mrs. Rendleson,” he said. “She’s gone back to a bush she’s already pruned.” “What is the point?” she demanded. “Charlie has looked you over. Likely he’s decided you’re quality goods. Mrs. Rendleson? She’s harder to figure. She believes every young female is a brazen hussy. Right now she’s trying to squeeze you into her view.” “The point?” she snapped. “Witnesses abound, which means you’re safe here.” He chuckled. “What’s more, they’re watching to see if you go inside or not.” “What on earth for?”

Take the Shot

25

“Just keeping up with the action. If you come in, they’ll figure I’ve a new lover. If you don’t, they’ll figure I blew it.” “What business is it of theirs?” “We’re neighbors. We keep track of each other as we can. And of what’s happening around us.” She glanced between the two several times, then gave Todd a sharp look. She was puzzled. It seemed as though she was unsure of what she was in the middle of. “I’d like to help if I can.” “Why?” “When I can make a difference, I’ll lend a hand.” “But why?” He shrugged, glanced at each of his neighbors, then said, “Maybe it only helps me feel better about myself.” “I only need a safe place to stay. If you can help with this, it would make a difference to me.” “I can’t ask a friend to take you in. I don’t know how much trouble you’re in, so I can’t say how much risk they’d be taking.” “How noble.” “I’ve a spare room, if you like.” “What will that cost me?” she snapped, staring at him, her eyes sparking angrily. “There’s a good bolt lock on the door.” When she looked away, he continued. “If it’s just the motel bit, and being alone, I know a good hotel with great rooms and top security. And I know a fellow who may be the best bodyguard in the business, if that would help.” “I don’t have enough money for that.” “I’ll help a bit.” “But why?” “Saying it again won’t make it clearer.” “I’m only frightened. I just need a safe place and a little time to work things out.” “You’re more than frightened.” “Why do you think that?” “Frightened people can usually evaluate the options, and make good decisions. You can’t manage this right now.” “That’s absurd.”

26

Bob McElwain

“You’re terrified. You’re running as hard as you can, but in a straight line. Just now, you’ve ended up here. And there wasn’t much thinking about it. You’re too near exhaustion to even hope to make a reasonable decision.” “I don’t believe what you’re saying. I can’t,” she said, clasping her hands in her lap. “Whatever, but you do need rest. I’m going back inside. You should come along because it’s your best option just now.” He stood. “Are you coming in or leaving? We’ve kept Mr. Andrews and Mrs. Rendleson waiting long enough.” She stared at Mr. Andrews for several moments. Then at Mrs. Rendleson. She shook her head as if to bring a better focus. Then she stood slowly, followed him, and stepped through the open door ahead of him. Her passage showed none of her earlier quickness. Tensions brought a tautness to the muscles in her neck and shoulders when he closed the door behind them. He stepped around her into the large kitchen area that opened into the living room. He tapped the top of the triangular island at one point. “Cookware is mostly under here,” he said. He opened a cabinet next to the sink. “Eating dishes,” he said. “Silverware below.” He pointed to the drawer below the counter. “There’s not much variety, but there’s food in the fridge. More here in the pantry,” he said, rapping his knuckles on the tall cabinet at the entrance to the hall. “Help yourself to whatever, whenever.” As he started down the hall, he motioned for her to follow. When she came up, he said. “Use this bath. I’ve got my own in my room.” He nodded toward the end of the hall. “The clean stuff is in here,” he said, opening the door to the floor to ceiling linen closet, then closing it. He stepped into the spare room, pretending he hadn’t noticed her hesitancy to follow. “There’s a sink and toilet over there,” he said, pointing to the door to the half-bath. “Everything is likely musty, but it’s clean. There’re a couple of robes and stuff in the closet. Use them, if you like. And the washer and dryer by the kitchen door.” He took a step toward the door. “I’ve got to check my calls,” he said. “Likely I’ll be gone most of the afternoon.”

Take the Shot

27

She had moved hesitantly on into the room, then away from him down the edge of the bed. As he watched, she dug into her bag. When she tossed the short-barreled Smith & Wesson . revolver onto the bed, she handled it with practiced ease. He decided she knew how to use it. But this move? He looked at the pistol for a moment, then up at her, letting his eyes ask the question. “In case your sexual fantasies get out of hand,” she said in a rush. He held her gaze for a moment, then glanced down at the pistol. Shaking his head slowly, he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door silently behind him. He had taken only three steps, when the door opened. “Wait,” Lisa called after him. He turned, wondering if he’d face the .. “What did I do wrong?” she demanded, her eyes clouded with confusion. “Maybe later,” he said finally, then started again toward the kitchen. “Please?” He stopped. It was a word he found difficult to ignore. He took a deep breath and turned back toward her. “Back inside,” he said, motioning with his hand. She stopped at the edge of the bed beside the pistol. As he closed, she tensed. He stopped only a foot from her, acutely aware of the soapy fragrance of her hair and the rise and fall of her chest. “Let me have the piece,” he said, extending his hand. The muscles in her neck were rigid. He could feel her breath upon him. “Do it,” he murmured. “Now.” Slowly she reached down, picked up the pistol by the barrel, then laid it in his palm. He turned toward the bed, ejected the cartridges, examined the empty cylinder, snapped it closed, then laid the pistol back down. When he gripped her shoulders, she trembled. Gently he used his hands to position her. “You were about here?” When she nodded, he backed away, glancing between her and the pistol. When he stopped, he said, “Have I got this about right?”

28

Bob McElwain

When she nodded again, he said, “And your right hand was holding your left wrist?” When she had positioned her hands, he asked, “How far is your right hand from the pistol?” “About two feet, I think.” “How far am I from you?” “Six or seven feet.” “Know anything about reaction time?” “It’s the time it takes for the body to initiate an action given a mental command. A half a second or less.” He nodded. “If I attacked, I’d be moving good before your hand started toward the pistol. By the time you had it in your hand, I’d be close. And you’d still have to cock it and bring it up. You’d lose.” She looked at him, then down at the pistol. She glared at him defiantly. “That’s not true,” she declared. “Some folks need more than words. Want me to show you?” “Yes, I . . .” He lunged. She was quick. And determined. She had a good grip on the butt and was drawing the hammer back as she lifted the pistol. Then his hand locked onto her forearm. He planted his heel to slow his forward surge, afraid he’d knock her down. He grabbed her right upper arm and used his strength to lift and shove her back, thus avoiding a collision. When certain she wouldn’t fall, he asked, “Are you okay?” When she nodded briefly, he dropped his hands and stepped back. She was trembling and gasping for air. Her mouth hung open in disbelief. She rubbed her arm where he had gripped her, with the pistol still locked in her fist. “Oh my God,” she gasped. “You could have killed me.” He smiled. “Different than on a pistol range?” “Yes, it is,” she managed. “But you’re much quicker than most men, aren’t you?” she asked in a rush. He shook his head. “Most are smaller than I am. They can generally move even more quickly. It takes me time to get these pounds in gear.” “What should I have done?” she asked, still breathing deeply.

Take the Shot

29

“Not that. You only give a guy warning he’s got to deal with the pistol before taking you. Never show it to anyone unless it’s cocked and you’re ready to kill without hesitation.” She shook her head as if not wanting to believe what he had said. She laid the pistol back down on the bed, then stared at it. He noted again the sag to her shoulders, the utter weariness in her eyes. “I’ve a suggestion.” “I’ve had quite enough of those either-or thingies you seem fond of.” “Come on,” he said, gesturing with his hand. He urged her into the hall bath, turned her to face the mirror, then snapped the light on. “What do you see?” Todd had seen it on the porch. Bloodshot eyes. Broad, deep shadows under them. “What am I looking for?” “You’re exhausted. Can’t you see that?” “I don’t need a mirror to know that.” “Come with me.” He was surprised when she followed him back into the kitchen without comment. He took a small glass from the cabinet, dropped an ice cube into it, reached for the bottle of rum, then poured a shot. “Drink this,” he said. “I don’t drink,” she snapped. “If I had some tranquilizers, I’d offer one. This will have to do. Think of it as medicine.” “Is this part of your technique?” He shook his head slowly, then turned away and walked into the living room. As he sat down and dug out his notepad and pen, Lisa passed from view down the hall. She hadn’t taken a sip, as near as he could tell, but she was carrying the glass. He smiled. The first message was from Mrs. Rendleson across the street. Her toilet wouldn’t stop flushing. When he called, he asked, “Did you turn the water off behind the tank?” “Of course. I know at least that much.” She was surprised when he said, “I’ll be right over.” He grinned at her confusions. “Just let me catch a couple more calls, okay?” “That will be fine,” she said, clearly puzzled.

30

Bob McElwain

As he returned the other three calls, he continued to chuckle silently about Mrs. Rendleson. She knew he wasn’t trying to get into bed with Lisa. And that would bother heck out of her.

◆

◆

◆

Throughout the afternoon, his thoughts kept drift ing back to Lisa. He had considered staying close, for he remained convinced she was a target for a killer. But since no one knew where she was, there seemed little risk. And she did have the .. Still, he sensed mounting impatience as that last simple job continued to become more complex. It was nearly full dark when he pulled into his driveway and parked. He’d stopped for pizza and a couple of salads. While he had no notion of what she liked to eat, pizza had seemed a good bet. And he’d bought two kinds so she’d have a choice. Inside, he set the pizzas and salads on the coffee table in front of the couch, then knocked lightly on her door. There was no reply. But she might be awake, so he said soft ly, “I’ve fresh pizza if you’re hungry.” With a Bud, he settled into the platform rocker and grabbed a slice of the cheese pizza. He picked up the remote, turned the TV on, found a basketball game, then let it run without volume. Twenty minutes later, Lisa walked into the room. He studied her, trying not to be obvious about it. The hair had been messed a bit. But the eyes were clearer, and the shadows under them were diminished. While still close to exhaustion, the shoulders were straighter. “Pick a spot,” he said, standing and walking into the kitchen. When he returned, he handed her a plate for the pizza, set down two small dishes for the salad, and tucked a fork into each bucket. “Cabbage here,” he said, pointing. “Lettuce with tomato there. The pizza in front of you is pepperoni and this is cheese. Take your pick and dig in.” Perched on the edge of the swivel rocker, she had finished a slice of pepperoni, and was dabbling with her salad when she

Take the Shot

31

said, “You frightened me badly.” “The bit with the pistol?” “Yes.” “I meant to.” “Why?” “I wanted to be sure you remember what you’re getting into the next time you show it.” He took another bite of pizza, then asked. “Do you shoot often?” “Once a month at least. It helps keep my confidence up.” He nodded in approval. “Are you any good?” “My coach says I’m doing great. But he’s never mentioned excellence.” “There’s no need for that.” When he’d had enough, he leaned back in the rocker and sipped his beer, watching her. She ate quickly, but did not rush it. He guessed she may not have eaten all day, yet she quit long before he’d expected her to. “If talking will help, I’m a good listener.” “Go to hell.” He leaned back in the chair and considered the tense drawn features, the lack of luster in the eyes. “You feel the bullet that took out Derrick Baldwin was meant for you, don’t you?” “In what part of hell did you find that?” she snapped. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. The death of a man you’ve never met wouldn’t rip you up like this.” She clasped her hands in her lap, but made no reply. He took another sip of beer, watching her closely. “Have you ever been raped?” he asked, seeking a gentle tone. “You’re out of your mind.” “That article you wrote?” He pointed to the paper left open on the coffee table, “It’s awfully good. You write with authority, with the understanding maybe only one who has been raped could have.” He watched her knuckles turning white as he said, “I called a friend on the team working the MacAlister case. He gave me details.” He paused to shake his head.

32

Bob McElwain

“I’ve a hunch you being a target relates to her death in some way. But I don’t see the connection. Care to help me out here?” She was staring at the carpet. “You go to hell,” she said. He sighed, then stood. “I don’t need to know. But if you have info like this, Parker needs it.” He walked into the kitchen and poured another dose of “medicine.” When he offered it to her, he asked, “What about tomorrow?” She stood slowly, took the glass, then walked unsteadily toward the hall. “I’ll leave in the morning,” she murmured. “Just here?” he called after her. “Or do you mean leave town?” She turned into her room without replying and closed the door behind her. He heard the bolt slide close.

Chapter 3 Todd looked up from the morning papers scattered about the coffee table when Lisa walked into the room. She seemed to be examining the carpet. He rubbed at remnants of sleep in his eyes, then took the opportunity to study what he could see of her down-turned face. She seemed more rested, more determined and purposeful. But the beaten-down look lingered. She sat down in the platform rocker, clasped her hands in her lap, then met his gaze. “You look better,” he said. “I feel better. It’s quiet here. And it’s a very comfortable bed.” “It used to be mine. I bought new furniture and moved into the master bedroom about a year after mom died.” “You were raised here?” “Yeah. Dad finished building the place when I was about twelve. It’s been home ever since.” “And the bathrobes in the closet? Girlfriends?” she asked with false sweetness. “You’re a snoop.”

Take the Shot

33

“I like to keep up with things.” “I bought the blue one in Calcutta. I got the yellow one in Tokyo. When I gave mom’s things away, I kept those. They remind me of her.” It wasn’t what she had expected to hear. She was gazing at him with one of those looks that made him feel restless without a clue as to why. He thought it over, decided it was a safe question, then asked, “What are your plans?” “I’d like to stay another night, if it’s all right with you.” “Sure. What else do you need?” “I’d like to get my car. I feel trapped without it. And I’d like to get my things from the apartment, although I’d better store them for now.” “Where is the car? Behind Pop Pa Joe’s?” She nodded. “My apartment is at  Venuti.” “A block or two off Sunset?” When she nodded, he said, “We’ll need help. There’re likely folks looking for you.” “I have three thousand seven hundred dollars I withdrew from the bank.” “Do it my way and I’ll cover it.” She looked up sharply, eyes bright with anger. “And how would I be expected to repay you?” she snapped. He sighed, then said, “Look around you. The ideal playboy pad, right? I nail every broad . . .” “Woman.” “. . . who steps through that door. It’s my true and only purpose in life.” “But you wouldn’t mind hooking up for the evening, now would you?” “Underneath those rags you’re wearing, I suspect you’ve got a gorgeous body. Sometimes I think you may be the goddess of love reincarnated . . . right up until you open that mouth of yours.” “If the body is that good . . .” “It’s not my style,” he said crisply. “Deal with that.” “Nonsense,” she snapped. “Everybody does it.”

34

Bob McElwain

“Uhmm.” he murmured, then stood. “I’m hungry. Want some eggs?” “I hate them.” “Try the pantry or the fridge whenever,” he said, setting a frying pan on the stove. With butter and eggs from the fridge, he started in. “I’ll take two, over easy,” she said, sitting down on a stool at the island counter. He added two to the three already in the pan. He put two slices of wheat bread into the toaster, then shoved the lever down. “I prefer white,” she said. “They say life is a series of compromises,” he commented. With a spatula he seldom used, he slipped two eggs out of the pan onto a dish, then slid it over the island counter toward her, along with a knife and fork. “These are over easy?” she demanded. “I bust the yokes when I try that.” He put a slice of toast on a plate, then slid it and the butter toward her. He carried the frying pan to the counter with the salt shaker. She stared disapprovingly at the pan. “One less dish to wash,” he commented. “You can take charge anytime you like.” He salted his eggs, then extended the shaker to her. “They should be salted as you cook them.” “Like I said, anytime.” The two stools at the short counter were close together. He enjoyed the scents of her. And he liked the deftness with which she sliced off small bites of the eggs. But he wondered how long he’d be able to deal with that mouth. Finished, he carted the frying pan to the sink, washed it, dried it with a dishtowel, then tucked it away. He mixed instant coffee for them both. He added a bit of milk, then carried the cups around the counter. He set one down beside Lisa saying, “If you don’t like it, don’t drink it.” Then he settled onto his stool and took a sip of his own. “Were my guesses anywhere near right last night?” he asked.

Take the Shot

35

She nodded slowly. “The man who attacked me was never apprehended. Tammy MacAlister was attacked in the same way. If I hadn’t escaped, he probably would have killed me as he killed her.” He took a sip of coffee, watching her closely. “So you figure he wants you dead so you can’t testify.” “Yes,” she said. “I bought the . and learned how to use it because I was certain he had meant to kill me. That he would come for me soon. But it’s been nine years now. I don’t understand why he waited all this time.” Todd reached up and tugged at an ear. “Apparently Tammy’s body was found almost by accident. Someone heard the digging, checked later, and reported what was found.” “I don’t understand.” “If it hadn’t been discovered, no one would be looking for anyone, so you’d be no threat to him. I can easily be wrong, but it’s likely something along this line.” She sat quietly for several moments. Then she nodded without looking up. “Whatever, the problem is fight or flight.” She met his look now. “I’d rather stay. I have everything I’ve ever wanted within reach.” She shook her head. “But it hardly seems worth dying for.” “I can put you in touch with some people who can build you a brand new identity. Then it’s only a matter of picking a medium sized town somewhere, and fitting in.” “Is that what you think I should do?” she asked, almost as if holding her breath while awaiting his reply. “I’m not good at thinking for other folks. But it might be best to tough up and beat this bastard. Can you live with yourself if you don’t?” “I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “Either way, I’d like my things. Except for good memories, some of it is all I have left of my mom and dad.” “Let’s go for it.” “Do you suppose,” she said sharply, “we can accomplish this without any more fatherly advice?”

36

Bob McElwain

“Uhmm,” he murmured, slipping off the stool. “Let me make a couple of calls.” He sat down on the couch, picked up the phone, and dialed. “Carlos Santiago. Can I help you?” “Todd here.” “Glad you called.” “How’s that?” “Thought the ringer on the phone was busted.” “Business is that good, huh?” “Better even.” “Then you’ve got time.” “That doesn’t mean I’ll work cheap.” He chuckled. “Will hazard rates do?” “I can relate to that. What have you got?” Todd could picture the man straightening, then leaning out on the desk. He loved most any kind of action, and would go out of his way to join in. “I want you to pick up a car for a friend of mine. Someone tried to take her off day before yesterday. I doubt they’ve given up. Likely they’ll be expecting this move. We’ll have to beat them.” “Those who tried to hit her, are they good?” “I don’t know.” “Sounds like fun. When and where?” “Can you stop by here? I’ll drive, then see if I can pick up on whoever may tail you.” “I’m on my way.” He hung up. Todd thumbed through his address book, found the number he needed, and dialed. When he looked up, Lisa was watching his every move. He wondered what she was looking for. And what she’d discovered, if anything. “Stafford Realty. Gayland Bishop speaking.” “Todd here. Long time no see and like that.” “It has been a while, but you didn’t call to say hello. What do you need?” “An address on a house for sale that’s vacant. One that’s been that way for some time and is going to be a tough sell.”

Take the Shot

37

“What the hell are you into now?” “Just trying to help a friend. You know how that goes.” “Sure, but how does this help me? Hang on a sec.” He heard the phone put down, and guessed Gayland was flipping through his older listings. When he came back on the line, he said, “Here’s one that’s been vacant for almost six months. The asking price is about forty thousand too high. It might do.” “Let me have it,” Todd said. “I ought to charge for this.” “Why?” “Creating phony addresses is against the law.” “Give,” he said, slipping a small notepad and pen from his shirt pocket. “The address is real, isn’t it?” There were promises made that both would be unlikely to keep, then they hung up. Todd walked over to Lisa, still seated at the counter, and handed her the page he’d ripped from his notepad. “Florida?” she asked, clearly puzzled. “Whether you stay or go, we’ll let folks think you’re a long way from here.” She nodded uncertainly. He handed her a piece of stationery. “Write out something that gives permission for Carlos to pick up your car.” “Aren’t I coming with you?” “Sure. But you may not want to talk to folks Carlos may meet.”

◆

◆

◆

As they started toward Pop Pa Joe’s, he smiled at the way in which Lisa kept peeking at Carlos. Todd had size; he stood out from most in a crowd. By contrast, Carlos was a giant. A full three inches taller and close to three hundred pounds. His habitual smile was reflected in his eyes. The toolboxes lining the sides of the truck bed were nearly full. The weight gave the truck a smoother ride, but not that of a luxury sedan. Lisa was distinctly uncomfortable, seeking to

38

Bob McElwain

maintain an equal distance between them, as the truck tended to lurch off in odd directions now and then. But with the seatbelt centered, she was closer to Carlos. “There’s not enough room,” she muttered. “He’s got a big butt,” Todd commented lightly. Carlos smiled broadly. He rolled down the window and tucked his right elbow outside. Then he leaned back into the door to give Lisa more space. He plopped a huge arm on top of the seat. His burly hand lay beyond her head. “Bigger everything, buddy,” he said, his smile even broader. With the lightweight black leather coat lifted, the Colt . magnum revolver in the holster under his left arm caught Lisa’s attention. For a long while, her glance clung to the heavy weapon. “To say big is better is a bad assumption,” Todd commented. “But everybody knows this is so.” “I can’t whip you arm wrestling. But I can outrun you.” “And what happens if I’m at that place you run to?” “I’m not quick enough to beat you, so . . .” “Are you saying,” Lisa interrupted sharply, “that Carlos is quicker than you are?” “Much,” he said to Lisa with a smile. To Carlos, he said, “So I’d have to shoot you.” “But I would also shoot.” “I’m a better shot.” “Not by much.” “Likely we’d kill each other.” “Madra mia. What a waste!” Carlos laughed. The booming base resonated throughout the cab; it overrode all other sounds. Todd could feel the man’s glance. He made no sign, but he thought he knew what was coming. The corners of his mouth tilted further upward into a full-fledged grin. “How come you get all the neat chicks,” Carlos said, “and leave me to saddle the donkeys?” “I’m the better man.” “You have said this. That doesn’t make it so.”

Take the Shot

39

“Results speak for themselves.” Carlos examined Lisa for several moments than said, “She doesn’t look like she enjoys it. Have you discovered whether or not this is so?” “No. I’ve wondered about it, though.” While her head hardly moved, Lisa’s eyes darted back and forth between them as if she was watching a ping pong match. Todd could see the growing sparks of anger. He was certain Carlos also saw them. “Surely you have discovered if she is beautiful or not.” “Not yet. But I’m fascinated by those eyes. Intriguing.” “Sure. But that hair, man. Combed straight back and tied with a rubber band? Looks something like an old coonskin cap.” “Or some animal’s nest, maybe.” Lisa’s entire head was now snapping left and right as she glared at each of them in turn. “But what of the body?” Carlos asked, letting his smile broaden. “It’s hard to tell.” “It might be lovely.” “It’s the clothes she’s wearing that make it tough to figure,” Todd commented. “They say the laying on of hands is a good thing.” “I’ve heard that.” For an instant, Todd was sure Lisa would hit him in some way. Then her head snapped around to focus on Carlos. “I might discover great things.” “You just might.” “Then I can lift that tacky shirt so we can verify my findings.” “Do we need to know right now?” “Why put it off ?” “Shut . . . up,” Lisa demanded, her voice pitched low, trembling with anger. “Both of you.” “Ah, it has teeth,” Carlos said with a broader smile. “A sleeping tigress, maybe, behind those eyes.” She glared at each in turn. Suddenly she was struggling to remain erect as Todd took a hard right.

40

Bob McElwain

“Maybe we should let this tigress doze,” Carlos said. “At least for now?” “Might be best.” Carlos laughed again, then turned back to gaze at the traffic ahead. Thirty minutes later, Todd pulled to the curb just short of the alley behind Pop Pa Joe’s restaurant. Carlos reached across Lisa to hand him a small radio. “What’s the plan?” Carlos glanced about, thought it over, then said, “I’ll come back out this way, take a left, and head down Van Nuys.” “Got it,” he said. “Be careful with the car?” Lisa asked plaintively. “As if it belonged to my sister, Ms. Anders.” He smiled broadly, slipped on his dark aviator sunglasses, opened the door and stepped out of the truck. He closed the door firmly, then ambled into the alley. His rolling bear-like gait was deceptive. He seemed to be only strolling, but the long, powerful legs moved him quickly along. Todd knew that hidden behind the glasses, the man’s eyes were in constant motion, that he claimed ownership to everything noted. As he pulled from the curb, Lisa watched Carlos until he disappeared from view. Then she quickly undid the seatbelt and, with obvious relief, moved away from him to the far side of the seat. When she was again latched into a seatbelt, she relaxed for the first time, back against the seat. “That man is overwhelming.” “Yeah,” he said with a grin. “He is a piece of work.” He pulled a U-turn, then parked and shut off the engine. He had a clear view of the alley in the middle of the next block ahead. He was ready. He realized he was sitting up in the seat. His grip on the wheel was firm, but not tight. He also noted the absence of the pistol under his left arm. Then he wondered why he hadn’t brought a weapon. There was no way of telling how this dance might end. He picked up the radio and said, “We’re set.” Minutes later, Carlos said, “Coming at you.”

Take the Shot

41

When he slowed at the street, Carlos scanned quickly left and right, then took the left. “It feels so strange to watch someone else drive my car.” “Better him than you just now.” As Carlos took the right on Van Nuys, another car paused at the alley entrance, then took the left. Neither of the two men in the front seat glanced toward Todd and Lisa. “Company,” Todd said into the radio. “Two dudes in a late model dark-blue Ford. Cops maybe.” “Got it,” Carlos replied quickly. “Now what’s this?” he murmured, watching a second car slow at the alley entrance. Tension tightened the muscles across his shoulders. “It’s only another car,” Lisa commented nervously. They watched as the driver took a left, slowed at Van Nuys, then took the right. He started the truck and pulled away from the curb. He scooped up the radio, then said into it, “We’ve another car. One dude. A Toyota Celica.  maybe. Light-gray.” As he slowed for the corner at Van Nuys, he continued. “Want me to pass and block these folks?” “Give me a couple minutes,” Carlos replied quickly. He slipped the notepad and pen from his shirt pocket and handed them to Lisa. “We need to get that plate number.” “I can’t read it from here.” “I’ll try to get closer, but we’ll wait to see what Carlos may need.” “Are you sure he’s following my car?” He nodded. “What’s worse, I’ve a hunch he’s either a killer or working for one.” She shuddered, her gaze locked on the Toyota as if nothing else on the planet existed. Todd watched Carlos take a right several blocks ahead. The Ford took the same right. When the Toyota also turned, any question about the purpose of the man driving it was erased. He made the same turn, but slowly, hoping to avoid attention. He pulled to the right and stopped, but he left the engine

42

Bob McElwain

running. The absence of the pistol under his arm now seemed a major oversight on his part. The Toyota had also pulled over and stopped in the next block. The Ford had paused at an intersection a block further ahead. This was a residential neighborhood. Todd tried to picture the layout of the streets. If Carlos had taken a left down the short edge of the block, then another quickly, he’d be clear. Todd picked up the radio. “I think you’ve lost them,” he said. “Where are you?” “Back on Van Nuys, headed south.” “You’re good, then.” “Right.” The Ford took the left and was soon out of sight. The Toyota began moving. The driver wasn’t in a hurry. Todd guessed he also knew his target was gone. “Here we go,” he said to Lisa, pulling away from the curb. He continually added more gas until he was gaining on the Toyota. The man pulled to a stop at the corner where the Ford had taken the left and gazed in that direction. Then he shrugged and glanced in the review mirror. The moment he saw the truck closing rapidly, he took the right and hit it. Hard. Tires squealed. By the time Todd started into the turn, the Toyota had already taken the next right. He watched it disappear from sight. He eased off the gas, and said to Lisa, “XGH. Jot it down. Were you able to get more?” She shook her head, staring down at the notepad. “I got only four characters, but they agree with yours. Is it enough?” “Maybe.” He picked up the radio and said, “We’ve a partial plate here.” There was a pause, as if Carlos had pulled to a stop. “Go,” he said. “XGH is all we got. Toyota Celica. About . Lightgray.” “I’ll get Matt on this right away.” “Remind him this guy may be a killer or working for one.” “Right.”

Take the Shot

43

As he laid the radio down, he saw Lisa was trembling noticeably.

◆

◆

◆

At Cawfield’s Transport, three trailers had been backed up to the long loading dock, then abandoned by the tractors that had positioned them. Two doors had been lifted in the front of the massive warehouse. Men on forklifts were unloading flats with goods strapped to them. Shipping containers were stacked neatly in the area to the right of the warehouse. As Todd followed Lisa up the steep concrete steps to the loading dock, he noted once again, from a different angle, her lovely, long, slender legs. At the top of the steps, he moved to the right into the cavernous warehouse containing boxes and crates stacked to the ceiling in spots, then turned right again to the first of a row of brightly lit offices. “How’s it go?” he asked, smiling as Maria looked up. “Fine,” she said returning his smile. “Better now that you’re here.” “If you’d only dump that worthless husband of yours, we could work something out.” Maria blushed. “As always,” she said, “you tempt me.” She sighed, then shook her head. “But I love the bum. Then there’re the kids.” “Looks like we’re doomed,” he said with mock sadness. “Is Jacob around?” “In his office as usual, trying to find a way to carry more freight with fewer trucks.” As she reached for the phone and dialed, a lovely young woman passed behind her, smiling at Todd. He nodded to her, then she moved out of sight to his left. “Todd’s here. Can I send him in?” Maria listened for a moment, hung up, and said to Todd, “Just go right in.” “Thanks,” he said, turning toward Jacob’s office. It was then he noticed Lisa had been examining Maria. Now she was

44

Bob McElwain

staring at the spot at which the young woman had disappeared. “Coming?” he asked. She fell in step beside him.

◆

◆

◆

When Lisa had signed the form that gave permission for her things to be picked up, she slid it across the desk. Jacob picked it up, scanned it briefly, then nodded in approval as he dropped it back to the desk. He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Why are you going this heavy?” he asked. “Someone wants this lovely lady dead. Right now she’s not sure whether to stay in town or split. Either way, she’ll be safer if folks think she’s on her way to Florida.” Jacob nodded. “If there’re cops, they won’t wait while we load. They’ll just want the address. I’m to give this one?” “That’s the plan.” “What do we do with your things, Ms. Anders?” “I’m not sure,” she said, her eyes pleading for Todd to come up with an answer. “How about tucking them into a container?” he asked. “Maybe stash it along with the others out there? She can have it sent wherever, whenever.” Jacob nodded. “That’ll work. But what about this other guy who followed you when Carlos picked up her car? He could be dangerous, don’t you think?” “For sure. I’ll ask Carlos to be close by.” “Great. I love that . he carries.” He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then said, “I’ll send a couple other trucks. We’ll use them as blockers to make sure the crew gets away clean. Once we get back here, we can drive inside. It shouldn’t take even an hour to tuck it all into a container.” “Good. But whoever calls gets that Florida address. Right? Jacob nodded. “It’ll be a done deal by nightfall.” “Thanks a bunch, Jacob,” he said standing. “I owe you one.” “Wait until you see the bill,” he said, chuckling.

Take the Shot

45

Back at the truck, he knew Lisa was less than content. She slammed the door harder than necessary. As she struggled with the seatbelt, she snapped, “I could have covered that.” “It’ll likely be more than you have.” “You didn’t even ask what it would cost.” “You get a better rate that way.” He fired the engine, backed a bit, then drove off, reaching for his cell phone. When Carlos answered, he said, “Jacob will have a crew at Lisa’s place in an hour. Can you kind of hang around the edges?” “Can do,” Carlos said. “Does Jacob know of this?” “Yeah. He said he likes your ..” Carlos chuckled. “If anybody but a cop shows, I’ll follow if I can.” “And try to get a plate number.” “Right. This might be fun.” He disconnected. When Todd turned north onto the San Diego Freeway, Lisa spoke for the first time in several miles. “Women are attracted to you.” Todd thought that one over for a bit, wondering where the notion had come from, and why it might matter. “I hadn’t noticed,” he said. Lisa chuckled as if having caught him in a bold lie. “Are you thinking about Maria?” he asked. “Who was the busty woman behind her?” “Linda Bates. Does it matter?” “She’s got a crush on you.” “I didn’t know that,” he replied, blushing. “And you tip every one into bed,” she said with sugary sweetness dripping off each word. “No, I don’t,” he said. “But there’s a line from an old song my dad liked. ‘You can’t go to jail for what you’re thinking.’ So I do let my imagination soar. Sometimes I come up with really neat fantasies.” “That’s crude.” “You don’t fantasize?” “Never.” “Uhmm.”

46

Bob McElwain

“Not often, anyway.” “Want to hear mine about you?” “Shut up.” She did have a way of ending conversation. “So what next?” he asked. She seemed not to have heard him. She gazed out the windshield at the San Gabriel Mountains as if they were the purpose of this day’s drive.

Chapter 4 Carlos had pulled Lisa’s car onto the grass beside the garage. She stood quietly, watching, her features devoid of emotion, as Todd came back out of the garage with a car cover. When he’d finished draping it, he stepped back to check it all once more. Satisfied, he turned toward Lisa and said, “No one will find it unless they do some serious looking.” He strode toward the side door to the kitchen, opened it, and let Lisa step inside ahead of him. He slipped out of his jacket, draped it on the back of a chair in the dining room, then walked back into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “I’m going to fi x a sandwich,” he said. “Want one?” She shook her head. He found a large roll, spread mayonnaise liberally, added several slices of ham and cheese, then tucked the makings away. As he reached for a Bud, he asked, “Want one?” “I hate the stuff,” she snapped. He let the door to the fridge close and headed for the hallway. “I only asked if you wanted one.” He turned into the den and then stepped through the slider onto the patio. He settled into the chaise lounge and took a bite of the sandwich. He nodded satisfaction with his handiwork,

Take the Shot

47

and went to chewing hungrily. He washed the last bit of each bite down with a sip of Bud. Lisa sat down in a lounge chair beside him. She seemed almost on the verge of tears. It puzzled him. “Anything I can help with?” he asked. “I’m just so confused.” “There’s one plus. We’ve rescued your car and Jacob will have your things in short order.” She nodded. “I could see this far, but now what?” “Tough situations come down to fight or flight.” “But if I run, where will I go? Who will I be when I get there? I wouldn’t be able to write, for it might lead the killer to me.” She sighed. “I keep hoping he’ll be caught. But then I might have to testify. That also terrifies me. Why can’t I make a decision?” “It’s not your fault. The whole of it has fucked up your mind.” “I don’t like the ‘F’ word.” “So I can’t use it?” He shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.” “You’re like all the rest. Insensitive.” He gazed at her for several moments. “What’s worse, I don’t get it.” He shook his head again, then stood. “To hell with you and all those god damned ‘Right Thinkers.’ ” He turned away, then paused, saying, “Think whatever you like. But I’m not waiting much longer for you or a grenade to explode.” He turned and strode back inside. “Wait,” she cried after him. He kept walking. “Please?” she cried. Determinedly he continued. In the kitchen, he reached for another Bud, then headed for the dining room, wishing the house was bigger. She didn’t keep him waiting long. Even that seemed to anger him in some way. As she sat down opposite him, he said, “At Pop Pa Joe’s day before yesterday, you flounced into a chair . . .” “Sat down.” “. . . at my table, interrupting my lunch.” “You were finished.” “. . . You conned me into breaking you away . . .”

48

Bob McElwain

“You offered.” “. . . from two cops. Now I’ve managed to get your car for you, and your things will soon be safe. And you’re still not content. “You don’t like my driving. The way I talk. Or what I do. And you don’t like my cooking. What’s more you feel I’m going to even things out by tossing your butt onto my bed and having my way with you. What kind of barbarian do you think I am?” “One of the best,” she said sharply, looking up at him. “If I didn’t believe that, I’d be a damned fool to be sitting here with you.” He was flabbergasted. “You look cute with your mouth hanging open like that.” But there was a real smile that erased any sting in the comment. He hadn’t seen one like it before. “It occurs to me you’re not entirely sane,” he said finally. “I’m not. As you pointed out, terror destroys all hope of logical thought, or of drawing reasonable conclusions.” She folded her hands on the table and stared at them. “Frankly, I’ve been an absolute bitch. I’m surprised you haven’t whacked me over the head and tossed me out before now.” “You seem real good at beating up on yourself. I didn’t figure you needed any help with that.” “I haven’t even thanked you for all you’ve done. In fact, I’m awed by it all, and the way in which you have managed everything.” “You’d do the same if you could.” “Few would.” “Uhmm.” He shifted position, uncomfortable under her steady gaze. Watching him closely, she asked, “What is a man with your obvious skills and talents doing fi xing faucets and toilets?” “Like I said, I enjoy helping out when I can.” “There must be more to it than that,” she said, clearly puzzled. The phone rang, saving him the need for a reply. When she noted it was a different message, she cocked her head to one side and listened. When the tape ended, there was no beep after which one could leave a message. She turned to look at him. “Why are you referring your calls to another man?”

Take the Shot

49

“You’re a target for a killer, right?” She looked down at the table. “Yes,” she said finally. “Then you shouldn’t be left alone just now.” She shook her head, still puzzled. “Tell me,” she began, then went off in search of words. “Seriously, how am I going to repay you for all you have done?” “Some bucks to cover costs would help, when you have them. What matters, though, is to see you living your life to suit yourself.” “What I want to do more than anything else is to write.” She glanced up at the clock. “I was to meet with my boss an hour from now. We were going to lay out a plan for my new weekly column.” She shook her head as if not believing it. “It’s as if I’m in another world now, far away in some distant universe.” “What kind of fellow is your boss?” he asked. At her puzzled look he continued. “Do you trust him? If you share some personal stuff, would he keep it to himself?” She thought about it for a moment. “I’m sure he would.” “Why not give him a call? Let him know something of the score?” “But what would I say?” “Whatever it takes to keep him thinking about you in a positive way. Maybe mention the great stories that will come out of all this.” “But I still don’t know if I’m staying or leaving.” “Let him believe you’re staying.” “That doesn’t seem right.” “Uhmm.” “I could call Amy,” she said thoughtfully. “A friend?” “The best. She’d know how to handle this.” “Go for it,” he said, standing. “I’ll be on the patio, so take as long as you like.” As he strode off, he was aware she was watching him, but he couldn’t figure what that look in her eyes was all about.

◆

◆

◆

50

Bob McElwain

Todd had spent the afternoon catching up on his reading. For over three years, he’d been collecting newspaper articles about crimes committed in the Sylmar area, that part of the city in which he lived. He cut them out and pasted them into a scrapbook. And he made a note at the location on a map as to its nature, date and time. While many crimes didn’t make the papers, he had gathered what had been reported. Collectively, it gave a good overview of events in the area. Details were available from LAPD, if he needed them. When the cell phone clipped to his waistband sounded, he slipped it out and said, “Todd here.” “Carlos, buddy. I’ve got something a little different.” “Go,” he said. “Jacob’s guys finished loading Ms. Anders’ things about five. The two cops who’d been watching the place left earlier, when they got that address. “So when the crew drove off, there was only one car following. I was able to get in close right away and get the plate. But I kept following. “We hadn’t gone far when the street was blocked with another truck. It didn’t take long for the guy to figure he wasn’t going to get any further. So he took off, and I followed. Like from nowhere, I’ve a car on my butt.” “Let me guess,” Todd said. “A  Toyota Celica.” “Bingo. I whipped into a driveway, then backed straight out to block the street. By the time I got the . sighted through the window, the guy was backing like crazy. I could have taken a shot. But I didn’t really know who the hell I’d be shooting at. So I passed. He whipped a right seconds later and was gone.” “Did you get that plate number?” “He didn’t have a front plate, so I got nothing.” “What now?” Todd asked. “I’ll hunt up Matt. I’ll at least nail that first plate. Maybe I can help some way with the Toyota.” “Looks like this dude is serious.”

Take the Shot

51

“That’s my read.” “How about some cover for you? I’ll handle costs.” “It may come to this. First, though, let me get with Matt.” “Good enough. But don’t take chances. Okay?” “I never do such things.” “The hell you don’t,” Todd snapped in reply, but Carlos had disconnected. He repeatedly reran what Carlos had told him, as he finished with the newspapers. When he dropped the last one on the stack, he carted it to the kitchen and set it down next to the wastebasket. He still didn’t know what to make of it. But whoever wanted Lisa dead was not much concerned with finesse. He grabbed a Bud and headed for the porch. It was shaded by the dining room this time of evening as the sun slipped lower in the western sky. He was hungry. Lisa’s door had been closed when he’d come back inside from the patio. He hadn’t heard how her phone calls had gone. He had noticed the door wasn’t quite closed, which meant the bolt had not been thrown. He had wondered about that throughout the afternoon, but he still hadn’t decided whether it meant anything more than carelessness. He took a sip. He’d give her another half an hour, then he’d deal with food for himself. He had finished the beer when Lisa stepped outside, closing the door behind her. Sunlight reflecting off the bay window revealed hints of her narrow waist, despite the heavy blouse. She sat down beside him, not clinging as closely to the opposite side as she had done earlier. He wondered if there was a hidden meaning in this. Across the street, Charlie Andrews was fertilizing his lawn. He used the same pattern as in cutting. Just now he was going up and down. Todd knew he’d go back and forth before quitting. When he noted Lisa was watching, too, he said, “That fellow has the greatest looking lawn on the block.” She glanced between the few yards she could see. “I like the idea,” he said, “But more fertilizer means more cutting. I don’t want to deal with that.”

52

Bob McElwain

She smiled. “A dilemma,” she said. “You know I’ve never done this.” “What’s that?” “Sit on my front porch and watch my neighbors. I wonder if they think we’re nosy.” “I doubt it,” he replied. “It’s like I said, we just keep track of things.” He turned to face her. “How’d your calls work out?” She nodded. “Amy put together a great format. She said she’d lay it out for my boss, so I didn’t call him.” “Did leaving or staying come up?” “I explained the problem to Amy,” she said with a touch of grim. “As you suggested, she thought it best to leave that part out.” “Can she keep your boss interested?” “Better than I can,” she answered ruefully. “She is someone special.” “How much of it did you tell her?” “She knew I’d been raped, but she didn’t know I thought it was the same man who killed Tammy. And she didn’t know I thought someone was trying to kill me. There’s enough meat here to keep my boss happy. But he knows there’s nothing yet that can be printed.” She gazed across the street at Charlie Andrews as the man finished up and carted his tools around to the back. Todd didn’t think she had really been looking at the man, or that she knew he was gone. “It was my first date ever,” she said with a sigh. “My seventeenth birthday, too. It was an awful time of waiting. Jason was such a dream.” “Lisa,” he said, “I don’t need to know these things.” She looked up at him. “But I want you to,” she said sharply. “Don’t you understand?” He didn’t understand at all. And he started to say so. But the intensity in her eyes defeated him. He nodded. “I kept asking my friends what I was supposed to do. But I got mostly giggles in reply. So I was a little frightened because I didn’t know what was expected of me.

Take the Shot

53

“We went to a movie, then had a Big Mac in the car. I was so excited, I was nervous the whole time. It was an older car, without the gearshift in the middle. So he sat beside me while we ate. Then he slipped his arm around my shoulders and his hand brushed my breast. “I was pretty confused. But when he slipped his hand inside my bra, and slid his other hand up between my legs, that was too much for me, whatever the rules were. I told him to cut it out. But he only laughed and continued. So I jumped out of the car and ran. He ran after me, and that frightened me. “Suddenly a man stepped out from between two parked cars and I sort of ran into him. He tucked me behind him, waited for Jason to rush up, then kicked him between the legs. He turned me away and led me to his car. He reached inside for his car phone, and gave me a great smile of encouragement. “He offered to call a cop, or my mom and dad. I just wanted to get away, so I asked him for a ride home, explaining it was only a few blocks. He agreed, and I got into the car. “I gave directions. As I was pointing to a turn ahead, he hit me. When I came to, my head was on his lap and I was staring at his erect penis. When he saw I was conscious, he gripped the back of my neck and pulled my face into it. “He told me he meant me no harm. He said he just needed a little sex. I knew he was lying. I also felt he planned to kill me.” Todd continued to listen, working hard at letting the words slip quickly through his mind and out the other side. He surely did not want to remember any of this. She had really only made one mistake. One easy for a young girl to make. The pleasant, smiling man had stopped her overeager date. And he had offered to call a cop or her parents. It seemed natural to ask for a ride. He wondered how many times she had awakened in the night tortured by this one slip in judgement. As details piled upon details, he noted tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. He fished out his handkerchief and handed it to her. She didn’t seem to notice the interruption, only went to dabbing with it now and then.

54

Bob McElwain

He would never say it, for she would never be able to consider it. Nonetheless, she had been lucky. She had managed to escape. Tammy MacAlister had not. When she finished, he was quiet for a time, his thoughts filled with her tale, what she’d been through since, and what lay ahead for her. He wanted to take her into his arms, to tell her everything would be just fine. But he knew that might not be so. And he wasn’t sure she was willing to be touched. “I’ve got a neat car in the garage,” he said. “A Pontiac Trans Am. Right now, I’d like to dust it off, tuck you inside, and drive to the beach. Santa Monica maybe. “Then we could walk barefoot in the wet sand, and let the roar of the breakers have its way with us. Maybe walk clear down to Palos Verdes.” He stood up. “But now isn’t the right time to invite you to get into my car.” She smiled. “Maybe you do get it.” “Some of it, at least.” “Can I have a rain check?” “It’s yours, good whenever.” He gazed out at the homes across the street for some time, without really seeing them. “Listen,” he said finally. “I’m hungry. Since you don’t like my cooking and I don’t know if you can, let’s go someplace.” “I haven’t the right clothes.” “The place I have in mind is a joint. You don’t even need a shower.” “I’m not sure.” “Find something here later, if you like, but I’m outta here.” He walked inside for his jacket. “Let me get my bag,” she said, following him. “You will have to get into the truck.” She smiled. “So far, that has worked out well.” As he slipped into his jacket, he watched her walk toward her room. He found himself eager to watch her return. With the large bag hanging from her shoulder, she seemed almost unbalanced. But that waist? And those legs? What a sight.

◆

◆

◆

Take the Shot

55

They had finished a delicious shrimp dinner, and had almost finished the wine. Lisa had mentioned having looked though the scrapbook on the coffee table. That had been ruination for Todd. He had jumped quickly into a description of what he wanted to provide for Sylmar, an affordable home security service. A way to make Sylmar a safer place to live. It was all her fault, he decided. She was a good listener. Abruptly he stopped. “I talk too much,” he said, a bit embarrassed at having done so. He also knew he was blushing, Hastily he asked, “Want more wine?” Lisa shook her head. “You’re cute when you blush,” she said. Which, of course, brought another. “Can you make it happen?” “It seems likely,” he said. “Carlos is all for it. And we have a friend, Ted Wellington, who’s a genius with electronics. He’s got a prototype of a new concept in home alarm systems. He’s even filed for a patent on it. And there’s Lauren Backman. She’s tops in marketing, and anxious to join in. I think it only amounts to raising the capital. And we don’t need much.” “How about you?” Todd asked. “I know you feel a weekly column is critical. But what lies beyond that?” “Only to write,” she said. “I haven’t really gotten beyond that. If I can build a name, many publications are looking for articles. I sold one piece to Cosmopolitan that was well received. That was exciting. And I’d like to do a book.” “The feminine movement, right?” “Not so much that as showing women how to take advantage of the new opportunities.” She seemed unusually vulnerable. Todd wasn’t sure of his footing when he asked, “Is that rape bit holding you back?” She sighed. “I’ve seen a lot of counselors. And two psychologists about three years apart. The first advised me to read erotica written by females.” “Did it help? Blushing, she said, “I’ll take the fifth on that.”

56

Bob McElwain

“What did the second guy suggest?” All lightness vanished from her face and eyes. “He kept undoing his belt and pants. He claimed he wanted to show me I wasn’t sexually dysfunctional.” “Uhmm,” he managed. “I’ve been with several men. Nothing seems to work.” She was staring down at the table cloth. “My friend, Amy?” He nodded. “She’s forever trying to set me up with a man. And according to her, every one is a hunk. And they probably are.” She smiled at that. “In fact, if the week had worked out as planned, I might be at a party she’s giving tonight.” “Another hunk?” “Yes,” she said with a wane smile. When she looked up at him, he couldn’t read what lay behind the blue of her eyes. “But things may work out better than that.” Todd sensed what she’d just said mattered, but he didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. “Have you ever been married?” she asked unexpectedly. “For six months, just after I got out of the Navy and joined up with LAPD. I got great sex mixed up with love. I came home early one afternoon and snuck in to catch her by surprise. “She was in our bed with two guys. She asked me to join in.” He shook his head as if still not believing it. “She said she’d get two more girls, that I’d really have a ball. I excused myself and left. I never saw or heard from her again.” “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business, really. It’s just there’s so much I don’t know.” She traced patterns with a forefinger on the table cloth. “What did you do in the Navy?” she asked. “I was with the Seals for four years. That’s where I met Carlos. We got some great training, and saw more action than I’d expected. But we mustered out all in one piece.” He looked up. “What’s the next question?” After a long pause, she met his gaze. “Have you ever had a wonderful relationship with a woman?” she asked in a rush. “Once. For almost two years with Darlene.” “What happened?”

Take the Shot

57

“Nothing, really. I was a cop then. She was terrified each day until I got home. Since I wanted to be a cop we couldn’t find a workaround. Things just kind of faded away. We still call each other now and then.” “That’s sad.” “It is,” he assured her. “Speaking of calls,” he continued, “I was supposed to call Parker if I saw you again.” “I thought maybe he’d expect that.” “Still plan to leave in the morning?” She nodded solemnly. But there was something different about the eyes. And about her shoulders as she stood up from the table. What bothered him more was that she hadn’t corrected his use of “guy” even once. The pieces didn’t fit, so far as he could tell. But things were different somehow. And he couldn’t say why.

◆

◆

◆

Once back inside his place, he offered her a nightcap. “Thanks,” she said. “But I’ve had enough.” Then she started down the hall. She turned back. “You’ve done it again,” she said. Her eyes glowed in the lesser light in the hallway. “You have managed to frighten me badly.” “In what way.” “You’d be easy to fall in love with,” she said. “I couldn’t handle anything like that just now. I’m not sure I could deal with you in any case.” Then she turned back down the hall and stepped into her room. His jaw was hanging open once more as he stared at the closed door.

◆

◆

◆

58

Bob McElwain

Chapter 5 It was nearly nine, but Todd wasn’t ready for the day. He turned on the cold water at the sink, then stuck his head under the tap. Ice water would have worked better, but this helped. He toweled his hair dry, shook his head a few times, hard, then combed his hair back with his fingers. Reluctantly he reached for the frying pan. When Lisa stepped out of the hallway and saw what he was about, she sat down at the counter. He sighed. It was beginning to look as if cooking eggs for her had become permanent duty. He had stopped briefly yesterday for more milk and eggs. He had also bought a loaf of white bread. But Lisa finished what he served as if she hadn’t noticed the gesture. She was still frightened, but the sense of terror had receded. Staring down at her empty plate, she said, “I still don’t know what’s best for me.” “I can’t say either. I wish I could.” “Would it be all right to stay another night?” “Sure.” He carried the frying pan to the sink and began washing it. “Jacob called,” he said over his shoulder. “There were two dudes . . .” “Men.” “. . . called for that address. And he’s pretty sure they weren’t cops. So maybe my crazy notion worked.” He tucked the frying pan away, then continued. “My hunch is you’re free for now. But you best not take too long making up your mind.” “I wonder if I’ll ever be. Free, that is.” As he sat back down beside her with two cups of coffee, his cell phone sounded. He slipped it out and said, “Todd here.” “I’ve a lock on that guy tailing the moving van,” Carlos said. “Want me to handle it?”

Take the Shot

59

“It might make things easier if I join you.” “For sure more fun,” Carlos said with a chuckle. He read off an address which Todd jotted down. “It’s a coffee shop, about a block from his office.” “I need about an hour. I’m not quite awake yet.” “Cool. I’ll get some breakfast.” Todd turned to Lisa. “Come along, if you like. I’m to meet Carlos at a coffee shop. You’ll have to wait there until we finish with the dude . . .” “Man.” “. . . who was following your furniture.” “I don’t like waiting,” she snapped. “Why can’t I come with you when you see him?” “These things can go wrong. If you’re not comfortable with that, stay here.” “Sit here and twiddle my thumbs?” He nodded. “In the dining room would be best. With that . beside you. No one knows you’re here, but you can see anyone coming from there.” “How long will you be?” “A couple of hours maybe.” He slid off the stool, got his jacket from the dining room, and walked down the hall. In his room, he reached into the closet for the shoulder rig and slipped into it. He noted Lisa had taken a couple of steps into the bedroom and was watching closely. He checked to see that the two extra clips were secured properly, but slipped free easily. Then he pulled the piece, a  mm Smith & Wesson auto-load, double checked the safety, yanked the slide back far enough to see that a round was chambered, then tucked it back into the holster. When he glanced at her, she seemed bothered in some way. Darlene used to have that look when he strapped on the pistol. “Is there a problem?” he asked, with a bit more snap than was customary. “You seem so different,” she said. “Every job requires its own set of tools,” he said sharply. “Are you coming or staying?” “I’ll get my bag.”

60

Bob McElwain

As he strode out the back and around to the truck, he noticed she was having trouble keeping up, but he didn’t slow his pace.

◆

◆

◆

The conservative lettering on the office door stated, “Jerome Tallon, Private Investigations.” As Todd and Carlos stepped inside, each glanced quickly about. The furnishings were plain, older, and well worn. Both nodded politely at the man behind the desk. He invited them to sit by tipping his head toward the chairs in front of the desk. “Mr. Tallon, right?” Todd asked with a pleasant smile. “Yes,” Tallon said curtly. “What can I do for you?” “We need to know what you can tell us about the person who hired you to tail that moving van yesterday.” The small, dark brown eyes clustered over top of the large beak-like nose showed total disinterest. “I’m sorry, but confidentiality is included in my fees.” “We appreciate that. In fact we’d rather not have anyone know we’ve been here.” This brought cautious interest. Tallon was alert now, and sitting straighter in his chair. “But we need your input,” Todd continued pleasantly, “because the person who hired you is a killer. Or works for one.” “Can you prove this?” Todd shrugged, then broadened his smile. Carlos had remained still throughout, his habitual smile locked in place. “If we could do that,” he said, “we wouldn’t need your input.” “Really, I’d like to help. But I can’t violate a client’s confidence.” Tallon reached under his desk below the center drawer. When he looked up, Todd’s Smith was sighted on his nose. And from where the man was sitting, Todd thought the muzzle of the . magnum probably looked like that of a cannon. Carlos broadened his smile even further, then said quietly, “Please be sure the hand is empty when we see it again.”

Take the Shot

61

Tallon slowly withdrew his hand from beneath the desk, then placed both palms flat on top of it. “I’m sorry,” he said in a haughty manner, “but I must ask you both to leave. We have nothing further to discuss.” Todd turned to Carlos and asked, “Did he sound sorry to you?” Carlos shook his head, still smiling, the pistol, rock-steady in his huge fist. “Maybe we should ask the questions differently?” Todd asked. Carlos nodded. As if communicating telepathically, both men stood in the same instant, tucking the pistols away. Each stepped around an edge of the desk, the first move in a ritual they had been through before. Todd watched fear grow in Tallon’s eyes. “What the fuck’s going on? Who are you guys?” “Zoo keepers,” Todd replied, still showing a friendly smile. Carlos added, “You’re in the wrong cage, man.” Each gripped an upper arm with both hands. They lifted the man out of his chair until his toes were an inch off the floor. Todd pushed the chair to the side with his foot. He guessed Tallon weighed over two hundred pounds, but dangling in the grip of two powerful men, he was reduced to the helpless state of a small child lifted by an adult. Carlos moved Tallon’s left shoulder closer to Todd. Then they let the man down. Todd quickly slipped his arms under Tallon’s, and locked his hands at the base of the man’s neck. He lifted enough to bring the heels up off the floor, then said, “Now what can you tell us about the person who hired you?” “Get the hell out of here. Both of you.” The words were right, but there hadn’t been a lot of punch behind them. “My friend here,” he said, “has missed his workout the last few days. How long do you figure you can go?” Carlos’ glance swept the man from top to bottom. “With a nice, soft, flabby gut like that, twenty minutes anyway. Maybe more.” “Do you want a demonstration, Mr. Tallon? Or would you rather chat?”

62

Bob McElwain

“You guys are crazy,” Tallon cried. “Show him a light jab,” Todd said evenly. “The kind you might waste on a faint.” Before the sound of his last word had faded, Carlos had put a short, crisp shot into the solar plexus. Tallon sagged in Todd’s grip, gasping for breath and moaning faintly. “Need more?” Todd asked politely. Tallon slowly shook his head. As Carlos stepped toward him, the man lurched back against Todd in fear. But Carlos only gripped Tallon’s left upper arm with two ham-like hands as Todd released his grip and grabbed his right upper arm. They gently lifted him off his toes, carried him back to his chair, then eased him into it. Todd positioned the chair behind the desk as Carlos walked around it, eyes alert. When Carlos sat back down, Todd moved around to the chair he’d been using. Still smiling, he said, “I’m glad we were able to reach an understanding so easily.” Tallon, still gasping hard for air, only nodded. “What name was used?” Todd asked. “Thomas Wells,” Tallon replied promptly. He leaned toward a stack of notes on his desk. Shuffling through them seemed a struggle. He tossed a piece of paper toward Todd, then said, “That’s what he gave me. I didn’t check the address, but the phone number is out of service.” Todd slipped out his notepad and pen, then copied the information into it. “Description?” he asked pleasantly. “Fift y, I’d say. '" Stocky. About . He was wearing spectacles. He needed them, at least for reading. Tight, wavy hair. Black, with no gray yet. Nothing in particular about the eyes. Dark brown. Heavy eyebrows. A dark beard, even though he was closely shaved. Nothing else I noticed was special.” Todd had made notes as Tallon spoke. Now he asked, “How much did he lay down?” “A thou. He promised another thou when I came through with the delivery address.” Tallon tossed another note toward Todd. “I got that from the trucking company, not from following.” Todd only glanced at it briefly. It was the Florida address.

Take the Shot

63

“Has the guy gotten back to you?” “Yesterday afternoon. I gave him that address. He didn’t say anything about bucks, but I wasn’t really expecting more.” “Is there anything you can add?” Todd asked, watching the man closely. Carlos leaned forward in his chair. Tallon shifted position, revealing his nervousness. “Maybe,” Tallon said finally. “For fift y bucks, I can draw a pretty good picture.” Todd reached for his wallet and dropped a fift y on the desk. “We’ve got to go in the other room, okay?” Tallon asked, clearly unwilling to risk standing without permission. “Sure,” Todd said. Both he and Carlos were right behind the man as Tallon walked unsteadily into a smaller office behind the one they had been in. Tallon snapped on the computer and opened a drawing program. He began by selecting an outline for a head, then tweaked it here and there with the mouse. He added eyes, nose, mouth and ears by selecting from a vast library of images. Then he adjusted each item with the mouse. As the man worked, the heavy eyebrows became more pronounced. Tallon leaned back and said, “That’s close. I may have the complexion too dark. His hair hid a lot of his ears, so I’m not sure about them.” Todd nodded. “Can you do a profile with this?” “The program does pretty good, but I didn’t get much of a look. The guy came in facing me. I only caught the profile briefly as he turned to leave.” “Right,” Todd said. “Can you give us a couple of copies?” Tallon nodded and clicked a button. When the printer stopped, he picked up two printouts and handed them to Todd. He turned the system off and walked back into his office, Todd and Carlos close behind. Todd jotted down Parker’s number, pulled the page from his notepad, then handed it to Tallon. “Now tell me,” Tallon said, “just who the hell are you guys? You’re not cops, are you?”

64

Bob McElwain

“No. But he is.” he pointed at Parker’s name and number. “Call and chat if you see this guy again. Or if you hear from him.” Carlos moved outside first, then turned back, all his attention focused on Tallon. “Thanks for your time and cooperation,” Todd said. “We appreciate it.” He in turn stepped outside, holding to the right so that Carlos had a clear line of fire.

◆

◆

◆

When Todd and Carlos walked into the coffee shop, Lisa visibly relaxed. When they joined her at the table, Todd laid down one of the printouts. “Could this be the guy who was following Carlos?” he asked. She studied the image for several moments, then shook her head. “It could be, but I can’t tell from this. All I really saw was a side view, and that only briefly.” “Same here,” he said. He turned to Carlos and asked, “How’s Matt doing on that partial plate?” “He’s got forty-one possibles,” Carlos replied. “This guy may be on his list. I’ll get one of these copies to him right away.” Todd nodded, still gazing at the picture. “Remind him that one of those may be a killer. This guy is looking good to me right now.” “I will,” Carlos said with a touch of grim. He wasn’t smiling now. “I want to get this to Parker,” Todd said, pointing at the printout. “Lisa doesn’t want to see the man just yet. Can you get her back to my place, then stick around until I get back?” “Sure, but she didn’t like my company when she was with us.” “Forget that laying on of hands thingie and all will be fine,” Lisa said crisply. Carlos tipped his head back and laughed.

◆

◆

◆

Take the Shot

65

As Todd strode through the squad room at Foothill, he nodded to those he knew. The door to Parker’s office was open. When he knocked on the jamb, the man looked up and waved him inside. Todd laid the printout on his desk, then sat down in the nearest chair. “So?” Parker asked in his gentle way. “Lisa Anders called and asked me to get her car and furniture and ship it all to Florida. If you haven’t got the address, I’ve got it at home.” “We’ve got it,” Parker said. “You say she called?” “Yeah.” “But you haven’t seen her.” “No. I haven’t.” he said evenly. Parker studied him for several moments. “I think,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “you’d be tough at a poker table.” “I enjoy the game,” Todd commented. “I don’t believe that Florida address,” Parker said. “That sounds like one of your schemes.” “Whatever, I think that guy in the picture killed your jogger, or works for him.” “How’s that?” “Two guys who looked like cops followed when a friend of mine picked up Lisa’s car.” “That was me,” Parker said with a sigh. “Hastings was driving.” “Likely that’s why my friend was able to get clear so easily.” He reached up and tugged at an ear. “That jerk can get you killed, man.” “Tell me something I don’t already know.” “There was a guy behind you, also following Lisa’s car. I tried to get the plate, but I only got the first five characters. The driver spotted me and split. With the truck, I had no chance to keep up. I only got a brief look at him, and really only a profile. So I can’t say, but it could have been this guy.” “Let me have that partial plate number,” Parker said sharply.

66

Bob McElwain

Todd fished out his notepad, then said, “XGH is all I got. A  Toyota Celica or thereabouts. Light-gray. But you don’t need to bother with that.” “Why not?” “Have you ever run into Matt Heylock?” Parker shook his head. “He worked Homicide for a lot of years. He retired with thirty years in and is doing well with a private license. I’m footing the bill for him to check on possible matches for that plate. I don’t think your people can do better.” “How did you get this drawing?” “My friend was following the furniture van. Again there was a car. My friend got the full plate. We just left his place. The name’s Jerome Tallon, a PI. That’s the dude,” Todd said, pointing at the printout, “who paid him a thou to follow the van. I told him to call you if he shows again.” “Who’s this friend of yours?” “Carlos Santiago. Also an ex-cop. He worked mostly Narcotics the last years of his tour. He left the force about a year before I did.” Todd gave his ear another thoughtful tug. “Do your people have anything yet on that jogger?” “We found the weapon. A citizen saw a man toss it into a dumpster.” “Maybe show him that drawing?” “I’ll do that.” Parker leaned out on the desk. “But I think what I need is Lisa Anders. You wouldn’t hold out on me, would you?” “Everything I’ve told you is straight on. Maybe you’re the suspicious type?” “That’s what they pay me for.”

◆

◆

◆

With a beer, Todd had settled into the chaise lounge and told Lisa of his meeting with Parker. “Do you think he believed you about me?” He shook his head. “Frankly I had expected him to show before now.”

Take the Shot

67

At the sharp knock on the front door, he stood. “I’ve a hunch think time is over, Lisa.” In the living room, he glanced through the bay window. He’d guessed right. When he opened the door, Parker said formally, “Ms. Lisa Anders is wanted for questioning in the murder of Derrick Baldwin.” Hastings was watching Todd as if hoping he would do something rash. “I thought you bought my pitch at the station.” “I did, Todd. I really did. Right up until the squad room door closed behind you. Then I asked myself a good cop question. Todd Hallster is spending money like water to move things, track down people following the things moving, all for a lovely voice over a telephone? No way.” “Guilty as charged. She’s out back. I’ll get her. Come on in.” “No more games,” Parker said sternly. “Right,” he said, then strode down the hall. When he stepped into the den, he found Lisa had moved inside almost to the door. Likely she’d heard most of what Parker had said. “They have a warrant to take you in for questioning,” he said evenly. “Follow my lead, and I can block them. But then you’ll have to leave town just as soon as I get rid of them. If you decide to stay, you’ve got to give them all of it.” “Fight or flight,” Lisa said wistfully. “Yeah. And decision time is now.” She followed him down the hall, and on into the living room. She nodded to Parker sitting in the swivel rocker, then sat down on the couch beside Todd. “Am I under arrest?” she asked nervously. “I believe we can avoid that,” Parker said quietly. “You did say you would call. I’m hoping your word means something.” “It does,” she said. “But I don’t have anything I can add to what I said regards the shooting of Derrick Baldwin.” Hastings leaned forward. “We can force you to testify,” he said, trying for a toughness that didn’t quite come across. Todd looked at Parker, but the man only shrugged. “Tell me about that, Hastings,” he demanded. “Tell me exactly how you’re going to force her to testify.”

68

Bob McElwain

“You better butt out of this, Mister,” Hastings said. “Tell me now or take your bluff somewhere else.” Hastings shook his head in mock pity. “Don’t listen to him, Ms. Anders. You’ll only end up in more trouble.” “I’d like to hear the answer to his question,” she said evenly. “We can get a subpoena that requires you to appear in court and testify. If you refuse or don’t show, the judge can incarcerate you for six months.” Again Todd looked at Parker, but received only a shrug. Looking directly at Hastings, he said, “Lisa, this guy is lying. Any good lawyer can protect you completely, and I’ve one of the best right handy. But let’s overlook this for now.” He leaned closer to Hastings and said, “Tell me exactly what you want her to testify to?” “We can hold her indefinitely as a material witness,” Hastings declared. “A material witness to what? You have got to be the dumbest son of a bitch on the force.” He leaned back in the couch, shaking his head. “I’ve half a mind to arrest you.” “Go for it. Get it right, though. Or Morrie Zimmermann will eat your ass for lunch on a charge of false arrest.” When Hastings started to stand, Parker turned toward him and said, “For the sake of what is left of your career and the future of the force, will you sit down and shut up?” Hastings’ face turned beet red. Todd watched curiously. He’d never seen anyone in such a state. He wondered if a coronary might be imminent. Parker leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees and thoughtfully rubbed his chin across clasped hands. “Todd is right, Ms. Anders. We can’t really force you to do anything you don’t wish to do. And we certainly can’t ask you to speak to a point we’re not aware of. Do you understand this?” Lisa nodded. “But I suspect you did discover what was bothering you that night just after the shooting. We are making no progress at all on this case. I’m hoping you can help us out.”

Take the Shot

69

Lisa leaned back in the couch and turned toward Todd. He could see a mistiness in the blue of her eyes. He wanted to reach out and enfold her in his arms. Instead, he stood slowly and walked toward the bay window. He placed his palms upon the glass, leaned into them, then bowed his head. “I don’t know what’s best, Lisa. I’d say if I did. But I do believe that when you can make a difference, you’ve got to go for it.” Hastings harsh voice ripped through the quiet. “Those pretty words didn’t work with that Carter broad,” he said. “They cost you your shield and got her killed.” Todd lifted his head slowly, feeling the muscles across his shoulders and back snap taut. He tucked his hands into his hip pockets, hoping to hide fierce trembles. When he turned away from the window, he was unaware of the total rage reflected in the chocolate-brown eyes. He moved slowly, as if feeling fragile, toward Parker. He bent at the waist, and asked, speaking slowly, “Can you shut him up? Or do you want me to do it?” Parker met Todd’s rage without give. “Wait in the car,” he said to Hastings. “You think I can’t take this bum?” Hastings demanded. As Todd turned slowly toward Hastings, his hands still tucked into his hip pockets, Parker shrugged and said, “Suit yourself. But if . . .” He paused, shrugged again, then continued. “If you come to, remember I told you to wait in the car.” Todd seemed to be the only person in the room unaware of the growing silence. He made no move, only waited and watched. Abruptly Hastings lunged to his feet and stalked out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Todd gazed after him for quite some time. Finally he pulled his hands from his pockets and wiped them on his Chinos as he sat back down, suddenly very tired. It was then he noticed Lisa had been watching him closely. She shook her head slowly, then said to him, “You once asked if I could live with just running away.” He only nodded.

70

Bob McElwain

She clasped her hands in her lap, than gazed at them. “This bastard is not finished,” she murmured. “I keep thinking of all the women who may yet die. Of their loved ones and friends, of the family they’ll never have.” Parker straightened, clearly puzzled. He looked rapidly back and forth between Todd and Lisa, desperately seeking even hints of what he didn’t know. “If you want to go for it,” Todd said, “I’ll back you all the way.” “Ms. Anders,” Parker said, leaning closer. “I’ve been afraid to say anything at all, for fear of adding to your uncertainty. But let me be clear about what Todd has just offered. “This bum and me don’t always get along. But there’s nobody I’d rather have beside me in a crisis. And those who know him would say the same thing.” “What do you mean you don’t always get along?” Lisa demanded. Parker tucked his hands between his legs and sighed. “Is that important?” he asked. “She likes details,” Todd commented. Lisa looked up at him sharply with a puzzled look in her eyes. “It’s true, isn’t it?” he asked. “I didn’t know you knew me that well.” “Want me to give it a try?” he asked Parker. When the man nodded, he said, speaking to Lisa, “Now and then, I take a chance he wouldn’t take. That means added risk to him. On the other hand, I feel he can be overly cautious.” “And you bend too many rules,” Parker said sternly. “For example, you should have called me about Ms. Anders.” “I couldn’t figure a way to help you that fit what she needed.” Todd turned back to Lisa. “But the biggie is I don’t like countryand-western.” Parker smiled broadly and leaned back in his chair. “Can you see it now, Ms. Anders? How can a man do business with a bum who doesn’t like music?” Lisa shared a smile at the remark, but her eyes showed only confusion. She turned to look at Todd once more. “You feel I should stay and fight this through, don’t you?”

Take the Shot

71

“Yeah, but these tough calls have to be your own.” She turned to gaze out the bay window. Finally she said, “One reason I didn’t call, Lt. Parker, is that I thought you would have all you needed by then.” “I’d like to hear it from you,” Parker said. “Then you don’t know?” Parker shook his head. “Mr. Baldwin was killed by accident. I was the target, Lieutenant. That bullet was meant for me.” Parker studied her face for several moments. “Todd suggested this,” he said, watching her intently. “We checked, but couldn’t come up with a thing. What makes you so sure?” “It’s more than a woman’s intuition,” Lisa replied with snap. Parker smiled. “We thrive on hunches, male or female. What is yours?” “Tammy’s killer knows I can identify him. He must kill me to prevent me from doing so.” “I’m sorry, Ms. Anders,” Parker said, “But you have lost me completely.” “You have seen the records from Redlands, surely.” Parker took a deep breath. “What records would these be?” “When I was raped, I filed a report. And I helped an artist create a sketch of the man. Seminal fluid was taken and a DNA report was prepared. The man was never apprehended. “The manner in which Tammy was assaulted makes me certain it was the same man who attacked me.” “Can you give me the date of that attack?” Parker asked. “May , . It was my seventeenth birthday.” “Mind if I use your phone?” he asked Todd. Todd nodded and Parker moved to sit down beside him on the couch. He picked up the phone and dialed. “I need Riechart,” he said sharply moments later. He listened briefly, then said, “I don’t care if he’s with the Queen of England. Get him. Now.” To Todd, he said angrily, “There’s no damned substance to all those pretty words about inter-agency cooperation.” Before Todd could reply, Parker said sharply into the phone, “I’m here with a Ms. Lisa Anders, Riechart. She was raped on

72

Bob McElwain

May ,  in Redlands. We haven’t heard back from them, have we?” Parker nodded. “Ms. Anders believes the man who raped her is responsible for the death of Tammy MacAlister. If she’s right, she can identify the man. “Send somebody to Redlands; don’t wait on them. Make the calls. Tell the Captain to scratch his golf date, if necessary. Raise whatever hell you have to, but get me those reports. Now.” Parker listened for a moment. “Let’s get hand-carried copy of everything. But also forward the DNA report by fax ASAP. Got it?” Parker hung up and moved back to his chair, shaking his head slowly. “Damn it, Todd, you should have clued me in.” “I’m with Lisa, man. I figured you had it all.” “Can’t say I blame you,” Parker said with a sigh. “We should have had it.” He turned back to Lisa. “Why do you suppose he waited nine years?” “I don’t know. I thought he would try to kill me right away. That’s why I bought my .. I never made any effort to hide. Finally I decided it had been a stranger passing through who would not be back. But when Mr. Baldwin was killed, I knew he still wanted me dead. “Todd pointed out that finding the grave was unexpected. It may only be that since Tammy’s body was found, my being able to identify him is a risk he is unwilling to take.” “Have you any idea how he found you?” “I’ve been writing original material for nearly a year. My editor, George Sheffield, ran an article with my byline, a first. If the rapist saw it, he knew where to find me.” “I don’t mean to press, but why didn’t you share this with me when I first visited with you?” “I really hadn’t sorted all this out. And when I began to make sense of it, I became terrified about testifying.” “Any time you ask, Ms. Anders,” Parker said, “I’ll put good people on you twenty-four hours a day.” Lisa nodded her thanks, then said, “I feel safe with Todd.”

Take the Shot

73

“If you can keep my name out of this, she should be okay here.” Parker nodded, then set a small recorder on the coffee table. “I know you’d rather do most anything else, but can you give me the details of the attack? I’m not trying to entrap you. It’s only that I may be able to find a small difference between the two statements that leads to something helpful.” Lisa glanced at Todd as if for approval. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s super ugly. But this guy is awfully good. If he thinks it may help, give him the shot.” She turned back slowly. “It was my seventeenth birthday.” Todd stood and moved across the room to gaze out the bay window. He’d heard it before, and he didn’t want to hear it again. But he couldn’t figure a way to duck it. He concentrated on the horizon and tried not to listen. When she began describing in detail what the man had done to her, the things he’d forced her to do, he felt rage leap to the foreground. And once again he tucked trembling hands into his hip pockets. “He was holding my left leg just above the ankle,” Lisa continued, in a monotone. “When he opened the car door on his side, he put one foot on the ground and began to urinate. “By this time the pain was all but overwhelming. I didn’t know until later that his first blow had fractured my jaw. But that on top of the rest of it meant I was only half conscious most of the time. “I don’t know why, but he let go of my leg and grabbed his pants. I thought at the time he had lost his balance. But in an instant of clarity, I knew it didn’t matter. I tucked both feet under me, threw the car door open, and tumbled to the ground. “Even as hurt as I was, I was off in a flash. Up the hill into the trees beside the road. I didn’t have shoes, so my feet hurt like everything. At the crest, I could see the hillside sloped down as far as I could see. “When I looked back, he was coming after me. I knew I couldn’t outrun him barefooted, so I dashed on ahead as if continuing.

74

Bob McElwain

Then, when he couldn’t see me, I ran to my left where I crouched down behind some large rocks. “My head seemed to be working better then. Maybe the running helped clear cobwebs. I concentrated on slowing my breathing, afraid he’d hear me. “He paused at the crest, looking about in all directions, but mostly listening. He ran on a way in the direction I had been going, then stopped and listened some more. “I don’t think he knew much about mountains and trees. He seemed afraid. He gave up finally, returned to his car, then drove off. It was cold, and I knew it would get colder, but I didn’t want to try to move in the dark. “At first light, I ripped my dress into strips and wrapped my feet as best I could. I was able to get back down to the road all right, but the pain got worse as I struggled toward the highway. “I kept losing my balance and falling. I must have crawled a lot, because my hands and knees were also bleeding. It seemed to take forever, but I made it to the highway. “A truck driver saw me waving and skidded to a stop. I fainted when I saw him running back toward me. To me, he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen.” There was more. The questions. Examinations. And always more questions. It had taken three days before she’d been able to leave the hospital. She’d been too embarrassed to return to school. She had moved to Pasadena to live with her mom’s sister. After graduation from high school, she worked her way through Pasadena City College. Then earned her degree with a major in journalism at California State University, Los Angeles. She never heard anything more about what had happened. And with the passing of time, she had come to feel she was safe. Right up until the shooting in front of the Los Angeles Herald Building. When she’d finished, Todd moved back to sit beside her on the couch. Parker asked, “Did he have a weapon?” Lisa nodded. “A revolver. I know now it was a ., given its size. But back then, I only knew it wasn’t an auto-load.”

Take the Shot

75

Parker picked up the recorder, snapped it off, tucked it away, then said, “Your strength and courage are remarkable, Ms. Anders. I can imagine the price you have paid to put your life back together. In your situation, most would have run. If it matters, I believe you have done the right thing in sharing this information. “Little things can make such a difference. Nothing can change the fact that Derrick Baldwin is dead. But it will be easier for those who loved him to accept his death as an accident, rather than being forced to believe he was murdered.” “May I ask a question?” Lisa asked. Parker nodded. “Why is this man trying to kill me? I made a formal statement in Redlands nine years ago. What further harm can I do him?” Todd spoke up. “It’s an ugly bit cops try not to get into, but your statement can’t be used in lieu of your testimony, unless you’re unavailable, as in dead. And if it is used, tricky lawyers can build a lot of sympathy with the jury by underlining their inability to cross examine a statement.” “So if you do catch this man,” Lisa said, “the DNA evidence won’t be sufficient. I’ll still be required to testify.” “As Todd pointed out,” Parker said, “we can not force you to do so. But it makes for a much stronger case.” “In what way?” Lisa demanded. “Not all jurors accept lab results as fact. Your testimony is a real person pointing at another. And there is one thing in your favor.” “What’s that?” “Once you do testify, your statement is a matter of record. You will be safe then, for you can do the man no further harm.” “Thank you,” Lisa said. “A little hope is a good thing.” Todd felt an odd shiver run down his spine. Parker was right. She would be safe then. Provided the man was in no position to take revenge. To him, revenge had always seemed the strongest motive of all, the essence of the feud, even that of the inter-tribal violence

76

Bob McElwain

throughout the world. He decided this was not a good time to make this point. Parker stood slowly. “Are you up to putting together a new sketch, Ms. Anders? We have better tools now. And all you have shared is meaningless until we discover who this man is.” “Yes,” Lisa said, standing. “Let me get my bag.” Parker turned to Todd. “Something unusual happened on the way here. I noted we were being followed. I called in some men who took the man into custody. He’s a PI, paid to note the addresses at which I stopped today.” Todd felt that cold shiver drift down his spine again. “Someone looking for me, maybe.” “That occurred to me.” “If you can’t keep my name out of this, we could be in trouble.” “I know,” Parker said. “I’ll do my best.” When Lisa stepped back into the room, Todd said, “We’ll follow in the truck.”

◆

◆

◆

It had been a long, grueling session for Lisa at Foothill division. Parker had done his best to fend them off, but those on the rape team, swarmed. Lisa had been bombarded with questions, many repetitions, and others intended only to see if she was telling things straight. Now Parker sat at the small table at which Lisa and Todd sipped coffee. He laid a copy of Lisa’s latest statement in front of her, and offered a pen. She sighed, then signed boldly. “Will that be all?” “I did have another thought, if you can spare the time.” She nodded. “Rape hotline calls about Tammy MacAlister have dropped off markedly. That’s the way these things go, for the story has been news for over a week now. “We hope circulating your new sketch will bring at least another flurry. There are over twenty-four million people living in

Take the Shot

77

this area. It seems certain somebody saw something that would help. But reaching the right people is always difficult.” “What are you thinking?” Lisa asked. “One of my men showed me that article you wrote. You’re very good, but I suspect you know that.” He smiled at the blush in her cheeks. “I’m wondering what George Sheffield, your boss, thinks of your work.” “He seems impressed. I was to have met with him yesterday to discuss a weekly column.” Parker nodded. “If I get with the DA, we might be able to find some things withheld earlier, that could be released now without damaging the case. Do you think Sheffield might be interested in some sort of exclusive?” “Yes. He loves that sort of thing.” “Can you think of a way in which you might contribute?” “I’m not sure what you mean.” “I’m not sure either. I was thinking of creating a story, something that would run for a week. Your photo. One of Tammy. And another of your new sketch. Other newspapers might pick it up, don’t you think?” “That’s a real possibility.” Lisa paused. “I have a good friend on the paper. Amy Barret. Have you seen her work?” Parker shook his head. “She is on the political desk, but often does other things. She and I might be able to work out an interview format. This would allow us to include only what we’re free to say. But still put out some dramatic copy. Is this the sort of thing you mean?” “Exactly,” he said. “Would Sheffield listen to a proposal from you?” “Possibly. But I know he would if Amy presented it.” “Would it help if I saw him?” he asked. “I’m sure it would, particularly with your offer of new information.” “How late does he generally work?” “He seldom leaves before six, and often not before seven.” Parker glanced at his watch. “Have you his number?” Lisa noted it at the bottom of her statement.

78

Bob McElwain

“I’ll see if I can get with him this afternoon. Can you try to contact your friend and get started?” “Is there a phone I can use?” Parker stood and strode into the squad room, Lisa at his side, Todd trailing. Parker pointed to an empty desk. Lisa sat down and dialed. Wanting to give Lisa privacy, Todd followed Parker toward his office. The man paused at his door and said, “She is a remarkable woman.” “True,” he commented. “Do you figure I wasted bucks and time?” Parker smiled in his gentle way, stepped inside and over to his desk where he picked up the phone and dialed. He leaned against the office wall, content to watch Lisa, and to note those who came close to her. Moments later, Parker stepped back outside. “I’m headed to see Sheffield now. Keep in touch?” “Right,” he said. He watched Parker pause to speak to two men. Both turned and glanced at Lisa, then nodded their heads. Parker strode through the squad room and on out the door. When Lisa put the phone down, he stepped away from the wall. When she noticed his approach, she smiled, stood and waited for him. “Parker is on his way to see your boss. How’d you make out with Amy?” “She’s thrilled with the idea. Something good may come of this.” She glanced about the squad room. “You’re comfortable here, aren’t you?” “It’s like a second home to me.” She shivered faintly. “It gives me the willies. Can we leave now?” “Let’s go.” As they walked to the squad room door, the two men Parker had spoken to stood and followed them. Out back, they leaned against the building until Todd pulled the truck out of the parking lot, then took the right.

◆

◆

◆

Take the Shot

79

Chapter 6 Lisa had spent the late afternoon on the patio. Todd had checked a couple of times to be sure she was okay. But she seemed lost in very private thoughts. UPS had brought a book he’d ordered entitled Serial Killers. He turned on the TV, found a basketball game, turned the volume down and settled into the platform rocker with the book and a chunk of Monterey Jack cheese. He dug out his Buck knife, cut a slice, then slipped it off the blade into his mouth. Then he went to reading. About an hour later, Lisa stepped from the hall into the kitchen and filled a glass with water from the tap. When she turned back, she stared at him and the TV for several moments. He hadn’t a clue to what she was thinking. “What are you doing?” she asked. “Reading or watching basketball?” “Reading mostly.” “Why is the basketball game on? You can’t hear it.” “I don’t follow the game. I just admire some of the moves those guys . . .” “Men.” “. . . make. They’re awfully good, particularly when you consider their size.” She watched as he cut another slice of cheese and slipped it into his mouth. “Kitchen knives are cleaner,” she commented. “They’re out there,” he said, waving toward the kitchen. “This was handy.” She shook her head, and walked back down the hall. He looked after her, picturing her path back to the patio. Wondering what the heck she expected of him, he watched the game for a bit, then went back to reading.

◆

◆

◆

80

Bob McElwain

It was late. Still, Todd wasn’t ready for sleep. He heard the shower go on. Then let his fantasies soar, modifying at will the long slender shape of her. He was the water caressing her breasts, moving down across the flat plane of her stomach, then onto her groin before beginning the long journey down her legs. He sighed, then began carrying dirty dishes to the sink. Not an elegant meal. A can of beef stew and another of kidney beans. Lisa hadn’t seemed to notice what she was eating, and didn’t eat much of what he’d served. They hadn’t spoken a word, each clutching their own thoughts closely. As he reached for the faucet, he heard the shower go off. He paused, waiting for the door to open. Then pictured her stepping out onto the rug and toweling herself dry. His mind alive with delightful images, he turned on the faucet and let the water run until it was hot. He had finished with her plate and the silverware, when he heard her come into the kitchen. What had he missed? No. What was missing? That was the question. She wasn’t wearing shoes. When he turned to face her, his lower jaw sagged and he could see she was delighted with the impact she had made. She was wearing only a sheer white robe that draped nearly to her knees. She had adjusted it on her shoulders so that it covered only the nipples of her breasts, leaving a broad strip of smooth, silky flesh that left no doubt about the body. The gorgeous waist. And the narrow hips that flowed directly into slender thighs. When he realized she was intently watching the path of his gaze, he examined her eyes, glowing with a mix of emotions he couldn’t read. Within them he thought he saw traces of fear. The smile was broad, but tentative. “I want you.” she said, a slight quaver in her voice. “I’ve never felt this way about any man.” “Uhmm,” he managed. “Where’d you get the robe?” “I bought it in Panorama City where you dropped me.”

Take the Shot

81

“You do plan ahead, don’t you?” He shook his head, baffled by the lovely creature standing before him. “I try, yes.” She was blushing now. “And I lied. I often fantasize.” “Uhmm.” “From the bulge in your pants, I can see at least a part of you wants me.” “You are breathtakingly magnificent. That part would be deficient if it didn’t want you. But that’s not the part that makes decisions.” She took three slow short steps toward him. He watched the robe flow across her hips and thighs. “Lisa,” he said, “You need a shrink, not a lover.” “I tried two, remember?” She took three more steps. Less than a foot separated them. “I want to make love to you.” “With me,” he corrected. “I’d like that even better.” He was flooded with mixed emotions and conflicting demands. He could not escape the thought he was facing a terrified woman, one who might or might not know what she was doing. “You’re frightened, too, aren’t you?” she asked, moving even closer. “What if it goes badly for you?” “You’ll have to help me get it right.” She inched even closer. “Kiss me, will you?” She waited, looking into his eyes. “Please?” she asked. He reached up and gently cupped her chin in his hand, then kissed her. The tip of her tongue slipped between his lips just as he ended it. She seemed startled. “I don’t believe this,” she cried. “Will you do that again?” He did, this time using the tip of his tongue to battle hers. When he broke it off, she sighed, then took a deep breath. “That’s never happened before. I feel wet.” She turned a bit and leaned back into the crook of his arm. “Will you carry me?” she asked, watching him closely. “I’ve fanaticized about that as well.”

82

Bob McElwain

He scooped up her legs and she drew her lips to his neck as he started down the hall. Where’s that damned manual, he wondered, when a fellow needs it most?

◆

◆

◆

Todd was not happy. It wasn’t even light yet. But Lisa had bullied him so, he was up and frying eggs again. She was sitting at the counter, almost as if ignoring him. The white robe, even belted, left little to the imagination. Now and then he caught her looking at him with an odd expression. But she turned quickly away whenever he tried to meet her glance. She likely felt much as he did, a bit overwhelmed by the boldness of their explorations last night, by the delight in what had been discovered. And now a bit embarrassed by it all in the light of the coming day. Not a word was spoken while they ate. He carted the dishes off to the sink, then mixed instant coffee for them both. As he returned to the counter, the first rays of the morning sun, streaming through the window, caressed her in their special way. When she reached for her cup, she said, “That was the most exciting and thrilling time ever.” Blushing profusely, she continued determinedly. “My wildest fantasies have been exceeded.” “Now you have a basis for better ones,” he commented, watching her closely. She nodded, then turned to gaze at him. He was wearing only his shorts. She seemed to be measuring the width of his shoulders for a time. She shook her head. “You must weigh twice what I do,” she said as if puzzled. “I had wondered if you wouldn’t break every bone in my body.” She shivered faintly. “Your gentleness caught me by surprise.” “We both had good surprises last night.” “I’m in love with you,” she said, staring down at her coffee. “We’re in love,” he corrected. “At least for now.” “Are you saying it won’t last?” she asked sharply. He shrugged. “That’s no answer,” she snapped.

Take the Shot

83

He sighed. “We’re different people,” he said. “With different values and convictions. Some of them don’t fit together well.” “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “Give me an example.” He thought about it for a time, then said, “You want me to use vagina and penis, right?” “They’re correct English terms.” “They’re not English. They’re Latin. Folks use such words to obscure sexuality, which for some sick reason they believe is dirty.” “And you won’t change your mind about this?” “Why should I?” “Because this is the future, the way things ought to be.” “Uhmm.” “What is with this ‘Uhmm’ thingie? Why don’t you just say what’s on your mind?” “Okay. One time. I won’t argue. First, because no one wins. And second, I’ve never seen anyone change their mind as a result of it. The whole bit is pointless.” “But how will we learn and progress if we don’t discuss matters?” “ ‘Right Thinkers’ have decided these things. The ‘F’ word is taboo. But ‘God’ and ‘damn’ are okay. What’s to discuss?” “You’re impossible.” “Uhmm.” “Just say it,” Lisa demanded. “I did. Deal with that.” “What planet are you from?” He leaned toward her. “Wait,” she cried. “I’m not finished. You have . . .” He kissed her, then pulled her closer, waiting patiently for the tip of her tongue. Finally she pulled back, laid her head on his shoulder, then went to nibbling his ear. “I need to know last night was not a dream,” she said. “And I don’t care what words you use.” He scooped her up and carried her down the hall.

◆

◆

◆

84

Bob McElwain

Todd was leaning into two pillows tucked against the headboard. Lisa lay beside him, propped on an elbow. She shook her head, puzzled. “I’m frightened,” she said. He made no reply; he only continued to stroke her back, as she scratched randomly about his chest. The morning sun highlighted and shadowed her body in fascinating patterns. “Could I be mistaking great sex for love, as you told me you once did?” she asked. “I doubt it. But either way you’ll know soon enough.” “What do you mean?” “Love’s like a tree, maybe. It either continues to grow and flourish, or it begins to wither, and finally die.” “Tell me what to do.” “I don’t think anyone can. We have to get on and see what comes.” “That’s not good enough for me. There must be something we can do.” He shrugged, then rolled her over onto her back and kissed her. “Why did you dye your hair brown?” Her pale cheeks flooded with blush. “I wondered if you’d notice.” “How could I miss it? But I did have to look closely at the roots of your hair.” “I’ve been trying to turn aside male attention,” she said finally. “Forget that. Fix your hair. Get some decent clothes. Then strut your stuff. Let it all hang out.” “Why?” “To be the best you can be, you’ve got to use all possible resources.” “I’ll think about it,” she said, then drew his lips down to hers.

◆

◆

◆

When Todd’s cell phone sounded, Lisa said, “Ignore it.” Considering where her explorations seemed headed, it was good advice. “We have to live in that world as well,” he said.

Take the Shot

85

She sighed, but released her grip. He got up, slipped the phone from his pants, sat down on the edge of bed, then answered. “Todd here.” “I haven’t been able to raise Matt all morning,” Carlos said. “There’s a John Doe in the morgue that fits his description.” “Shit,” he muttered. “Yeah,” Carlos agreed. “The man kept records. We need to check his office.” “Where do we meet?” “Sunny’s. It’s a sandwich shop on Dawyer, the  block.” “I’ll need at least an hour.” “Okay.” When he disconnected, he stared down at the phone for some time. He felt Lisa move up behind him. Then she tucked her arms around his chest, laid her head against his shoulder and asked, “What is it?” “Looks like Matt Heylock is dead.” “I like our world better.” He nodded, clasped her hands against him and said, “We’ll have to get back to it just as soon as we can.” Then he stood and tucked the cell phone away. He bent down and kissed her, then said, “I’ll use the hall bath.”

◆

◆

◆

It had taken a while to get Lisa and himself on track. He planned to leave her and the truck at Sunny’s. Again she’d wanted to come along. “Carlos and I have work to do.” he said. “If you come too, we’ll have to worry about you as well. It makes things tougher.” “I don’t feel safe without you.” “We can’t have much of a life with you sitting on my lap to feel safe.” He glanced over at Carlos waiting by the register. “Besides,” he said, “what we’re going to do is called burglary. If we’re caught, there’s a seven year jolt.” She nodded reluctantly. “How long will you be?” “An hour. Maybe more.”

86

Bob McElwain

She sighed audibly. “I don’t like waiting.” “I don’t blame you.” He kissed her briefly. She was rubbing her lips with a forefinger as he turned away. He noted Carlos’ grin. As he fell in step beside the man and walked down the sidewalk, Carlos commented, “I see you have discovered she is beautiful.” “Uhmm.” “And not only does she like it, she’s very good at it.” “Uhmm.” Carlos tipped his head back and laughed. Todd grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to a stop. “You didn’t hear these things from me.” “I don’t have to,” Carlos said. “I know you, buddy.” He laughed again. “Get in,” he said, as he walked around to the driver’s side of his car.

◆

◆

◆

Carlos got through the locked door with ease. “Try the computer,” he said. “Matt has come to depend on it.” Todd snapped it on. After a bit of whirring, Windows loaded. Several programs opened. On top was an editor with a tab for each open file. He clicked on XGH, the partial plate number Carlos had passed to Matt. Forty-one names. Addresses had been collected from DMV and an abbreviated credit check had been made, which in most cases pointed to an employer. At the end of the file, there were several notes under the heading, “Clyde Stallings.” Carlos pointed to the screen and said, “Matt thought this was the guy.” Matt had apparently followed Stallings yesterday. He had worked for an outfit called Horizon, Inc. up until the first of last month. Current employment was not noted. That afternoon, he had flown a Beech Baron out of Whitman Airport for about an hour. This seemed about right to Todd, for a guy keeping his plane in good flying condition.

Take the Shot

87

Under a heading below, Matt had noted some financial background on Horizon, Inc. Big time, for sure. But except that Stallings had worked for the outfit, Matt had not mentioned any other connection. Microsoft Word was also open on the desktop, but no file was loaded. Todd checked the Recent Files list, then clicked on XGH again. It was screen copies of driver licenses Matt had obtained in some way DMV likely didn’t know about. Both men studied the image of the license belonging to Clyde Stallings for several moments. Beside it was a notation that the address was not current. There was no indication of any other. “I wonder how Matt found the guy?” Todd mused aloud. “He didn’t say anything about it. Probably through a neighbor or somebody who knows him.” Todd leaned back, gazed up at the ceiling and asked, “So what have we got? We know this guy tailed you after you picked up Lisa’s car. Do we know anything else at all?” “One thing,” Carlos said. “Matt followed this guy yesterday. He thought he had his man. So he probably stayed with him. If I’m right, and it is Matt in the morgue, he wasn’t mugged. This pinche gabacho discovered he was being followed, and took him off.” The words sent a distinct shiver down Todd’s spine. Pinche means damned or fucking in Spanish. Gabacho means only white as opposed to brown. Carlos spat out the word as his ancestors may have said gringo. “I must meet with him,” Carlos said harshly, “and forward greetings from Matt.” The man had been a close friend to Carlos, one Todd had never met. He did not need this reminder that friendship means a lot to Carlos Santiago. “I’ve a hunch he’s also the guy who took that shot at Lisa.” Todd selected the Print option twice on each file. In the drawer beside the computer, he found several blank diskettes. He copied the two files to two of them. When he stood, he looked around the office. “Could there be more here?”

88

Bob McElwain

Carlos shook his head. “Matt was doing everything on this computer these days. There may be something else on it, but this is what we need.” “You’re headed for the morgue, right?” Carlos nodded. “Then I must see his wife.” He sighed deeply. Todd nodded, remembering how tough such visits can be. “Can you drop off a copy of this stuff for Parker?” he asked. “It’s Sunday. He won’t be in, will he?” “I doubt it. But I can call him at home.” With a last look about the office, they left, making sure the door locked behind them.

◆

◆

◆

Lisa had listened intently to Todd’s call to Parker. He was about to end it, when Parker said, “You didn’t mention how you got inside.” “Darnest thing, but the door was open almost half an inch.” Parker disconnected without a reply. Todd smiled. Lisa shook her head. “Whoever this man is, he seems determined.” “So are we,” he replied. “Parker told me they’ve checked and double checked. There’s no question but what the man who attacked you is the same one who attacked Tammy.” “I wish that was enough,” she said. “I’m still frightened about testifying.” “We’ll get through that,” he said. As he reached for the bottle of rum he asked, “Time for medicine?” She nodded and he poured two drinks. They sat on the patio and watched dusk turn to night, the sky becoming speckled with stars. There wasn’t room, really, but she insisted. He moved as far to the right on the chaise lounge as he could, then she cuddled beside him lying on her side. When she broke a long silence, the comment caught him by surprise. “You frightened me, the way you came at Officer Hastings. I sensed you might hurt him badly.”

Take the Shot

89

He lightly stroked her back for a few moments. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I blew my cool. Fortunately, it’s a seldom thing.” “I wonder if that’s all there was to it,” she murmured as if speaking to herself. “What else could it be?” “I was only wondering.” “Snoopy, aren’t you?” For reply, she cuddled closer. Later, the night’s chill and the need for more room drove them inside.

Chapter 7 What in the hell is this, he wondered. An earthquake? Finally it came to him. Someone was shaking his shoulder. And each shove was harder than the one before it. When he managed to get one eye open, he saw it was Lisa, smiling broadly. “There are eggs in the frying pan, big man.” “Uhmm,” he murmured. He watched as she walked quickly from the room, wearing only her white robe. He shook his head to clear remnants of sleep, then followed after her. He wasn’t surprised by his lack of enthusiasm; it was much too early in the day for him to have much of that. As he settled onto a stool at the counter, Lisa turned and said brightly, “Good morning.” “At eight o’clock?” “It’s a beautiful day,” she assured him crisply. “I’m not a morning person,” he grumped. “Change your ways. We have things to do. Here,” she said, shoving a plate with three eggs on it across the counter at him. Next came the butter and his toast on a plate. Finally he noted she was cooking; that was good. Then he wondered who would do the dishes. This mattered, because this morning there were two extra ones.

90

Bob McElwain

When she sat down beside him, he wasn’t cheered to note her eggs were over easy, and she hadn’t broken a yoke. “Do you know a good hairdresser?” she asked brightly. “Never had much need for one,” he mumbled between bites. “Then I’ll let my fingers walk through the yellow pages.” He stood and strode toward the phone on the counter. He pulled the phone book from the drawer beneath, then scanned a couple of pages. He handed it to Lisa, pointing at a name. “One of Carlos’ cousins. Tops, I think.” He sat down to finish as she jumped up and carried her empty dishes to the sink. When she reached for the phone, he still didn’t know who was going to do the dishes.

◆

◆

◆

Tina Sandaval examined Lisa’s hair with care. They debated earnestly about which of two shades of blond would be best. Todd was content to sit in a corner and watch. When Lisa picked up the two color coded bottles and started toward him, Tina followed along. “What do you think?” she demanded. “From what I saw, I’d try this one,” he replied. “Oh my,” Tina said with a sigh. “You have been a very naughty boy, Todd.” Lisa turned away shaking her head. “Quite the contrary, Tina,” she said, “he’s been exceptionally good.” Tina giggled, then went to work.

◆

◆

◆

Two hours later, Lisa examined her hair once more. It was combed straight down, but hung loosely, adding bulk that rounded out her features nicely. The color looked right to Todd, nearly a platinum blonde. Lisa nodded, satisfied, and reached for her purse. “Tina, do you know someone who could help me pick out some clothes?” She blushed, then continued, “I’m really not good at that.”

Take the Shot

91

“Jose Montero,” she said. “He’s a cousin,” she added, almost as a disclaimer. “It’s not Rodeo Drive, but he has a wide variety and good taste. Many of my customers visit his shop regularly.” “Thank you, Tina,” Lisa said, taking the offered card. “That sounds good to me.” As she stepped outside, she handed the card to Todd. “Lead on, sir,” she said gaily. “Jeeze I hope what you’ve got this morning isn’t contagious.” She laughed. “You may be the most determined grump I’ve ever met.” “Only in the morning,” he said with a sigh. As she opened the door to the truck, he said, “Your hair is magnificent, if that helps.” “Thank you, kind sir. I think so, too,” she said. She chuckled as she climbed inside.

◆

◆

◆

As Lisa introduced herself to Jose Montero, Todd looked about for a seat that would be out of the way. As he settled into the one he’d chosen, Lisa said, “I’m afraid my ignorance of clothes is appalling. I don’t even know how to select an appropriate bra.” Montero nodded understanding, then asked, “Do you have a budget in mind?” “Only what a working woman with a good job might choose, even if a bit more than she can easily afford.” Montero nodded again. He opened a door to his office, ushered her inside, then said, “Now if you’ll remove your blouse and bra, Ms. Anders, . . .” Todd didn’t hear the rest of what was said. But he chuckled at Lisa’s look of astonishment and shock, underlined by her sagging jaw.

◆

◆

◆

92

Bob McElwain

As Lisa closed the door to the truck, she said, accenting each word, “No man should be allowed to know as much about women as he does.” Todd only smiled, started the truck, and drove off. “He even told me how long to let my hair grow,” she exclaimed. “And the terrible thing is, I believe he’s right!”

◆

◆

◆

It took three trips to carry the bags in from the truck. When the last had been deposited on the counter, Todd asked, “With all this great new stuff, how come you’re still wearing frump?” “I don’t want to ruin any of it,” she said. “At least not yet.” She was eying him in a speculative manner he couldn’t figure. “I think I know now why women love to shop for clothes,” she said. “Why’s that?” “It makes them hot and horny.” She leapt for his neck, tucked long, slender legs around his waist, then kissed him eagerly. “Do you think you could help me solve my problem, kind sir?”

◆

◆

◆

Later there was the compulsory private showing, as Lisa excitedly modeled the outfits she had purchased, and various combinations, examining each with care in the floor to ceiling mirror. Fortunately, she did look fantastic, and her choices were superb, so it was easy for Todd to find neat, encouraging things to say. When she had examined herself one last time in the tall mirror, she walked to the edge of the bed and kissed him. “Thank you,” she said. “For?” “Encouraging me. I needed that.” “You’re most welcome.” “Now I need something more.” She pushed his shoulders

Take the Shot

93

back down to the bed and kissed him again, pulling herself closely to him. He broke the kiss and said, “You can’t make up for nine years in nine days, Lisa.” “Won’t you help me try?” she asked.

◆

◆

◆

When Lisa dropped off into a doze, Todd slipped out of the bed and back into his pants and shirt. With a brew, he sat down on the couch and went to scanning the morning papers. She wandered into the living room a half-hour later, wearing one of his robes that dangled nearly to the floor. She was rubbing vestiges of sleep from her eyes. “Do you have another one of those?” she asked, pointing to the yellow notepad beside him. He reached into the drawer in the end table and handed her one. “I want to make a few notes, then talk with Amy,” she said, still half asleep. When he checked, he found her in the den at the table beside the window. She was scribbling rapidly. Then she looked up, out over the yard. But he knew she wasn’t seeing the grass or bushes. “Tomorrow is trash day,” he said. “Think I’ll cut the lawn.” “It’s about three weeks overdue,” she said sweetly, then tipped her head down and began scribbling again.

◆

◆

◆

Todd had showered and slipped on clean clothes after finishing the lawn. He felt better; the exercise had helped. Now with a Bud in hand, he was back on the front porch admiring his handiwork now and then, but paying more attention to the clouds storming in over the San Gabriels, only to be absorbed, and thus demolished, by the desert air characteristic of the Valley. When Lisa stepped outside, she was wearing one of her delightful new outfits. As she sat down beside him he said, “You look absolutely delicious.”

94

Bob McElwain

She blushed as he knew she would, and he enjoyed that as well. “How did it go with Amy?” “Very well. She has an excellent feel for what is needed. I think it will be a great series.” “What now? Just the boss’ approval?” She nodded. “I’m sure he’ll love it. The first of it should run tomorrow.” She turned to face him directly. “Can I ask a personal question?” she asked. He nodded, wondering what he’d let himself in for. “While I didn’t know you then, I did follow newspaper accounts of that hostage case. But reports don’t always tell the whole story. Was there more to that shooting than was reported in the press?” He shifted uncomfortably. Staring down at the freshly cut grass he said, “I didn’t pay any attention to the papers, so I can’t answer your question. But here’s one thing no one bothered to mention.” He noted a touch of grim in his voice, and strove to lighten up. “The woman’s husband and her father were the first to cry foul. Then others picked up the hue and cry. Later, they changed their minds. They stopped by to tell me they now felt I had done the right thing. “It seems they’d been trying to say this to the press, but no one would listen. I didn’t like that. It still makes me nervous.” “Some very bright people,” Lisa said, “have pointed out this sort of thing happens too often.” She looked over at him and asked, “Do you think the shooting itself had anything to do with your resignation?” “I’ve wondered about that. But no, I feel it was more basic than that. ‘Right Thinkers’ have always bothered me. But when they can change department policy overnight, they’ve too much power.” “I didn’t follow that.” “How can a fellow be expected to risk his life working the streets when he doesn’t know what the rules will be after he takes the shot?”

Take the Shot

95

“Would you take that shot again? “I like to think so. For sure if you hesitate, folks die. Anyone who can’t shouldn’t be carrying a weapon.” “I wonder if this isn’t holding you back more than you think it is.” “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” “My fear of testifying has nearly defeated me. Maybe it amounts to the same thing. “Uhmm,” Todd murmured. “Those damned ‘Uhmm’ thingies of yours are driving me out of my mind.” She grabbed his left shoulder and yanked hard. “Look at me,” she demanded. He did. “No. Turn, then look at me.” Wondering what was coming next, he turned to face her. “Do you think we will marry one day?” she asked. He thought it over for a bit, turned back the way he’d been, then said, “I’d like that, but I don’t know.” “Why not? Where will we get hung up?” “Lisa, I’m not good at this kind of thing.” “Just say it.” “Yeah,” he said, then sighed. “This may not make much sense.” “Say it!” “You’d want kids, right?” “Three,” she said decisively. “Okay, what are your priorities? You come first, else you aren’t sane. What’s next? The writing career? The kids?” “It ought to be the children when they’re young,” she said, nodding in agreement with her thought. “Okay, at least for a time, we’ve got yourself, then the kids, then your writing career. What kind of man is going to settle for being fourth in your life?” “You’re impossible.” “Okay. Try this. You’re in New York for a three-week book signing tour and I’m here, but locked into a hostage situation. When our five-year old Johnny falls out of a tree and breaks his

96

Bob McElwain

arm, who’s going to grab him, hold him close, erase his fears, and make it clear that things will work out?” “As I said, you’re impossible. Utterly.” She jumped to her feet and said, “I want to call Amy to see how she made out with George.” “Hungry?” he asked. “You fi x it; I’ll eat it,” she said, striding toward the door. “Can you cook?” he called after her. “I mean besides fried eggs over easy?” She turned, smiling broadly. “I’m an excellent cook,” she snapped. “But I may be the only person who feels that way.” She chuckled, then disappeared inside. He stood more slowly than she had, shaking his head.

◆

◆

◆

Lisa fell asleep with her head on his forearm. It was well after one in the morning, but rushing thoughts had denied Todd any interest in sleep. He’d been here before; he had long ago discovered the best solution. Gently he disengaged himself from her, slipped into his pants and shirt, and quietly headed for the kitchen. He made instant coffee, added a dash of milk, then sat down at the dining room table, his favorite spot, particularly at night. The moon wasn’t quite full, but it was high in the sky. Except for deeper shadows beside hedges and under trees, all seemed almost noonday bright. Lisa’s question still haunted him, as it had for over a year. As it so frequently did, a replay of his bullet striking on target, followed instantly by a round exploding out of the head of Ms. Carter began running in a way that tended to blank out all other thought. He had long ago learned how to deal with such unwanted memories. He let the reruns flow. “Damn it,” he murmured aloud. The man had died an instant after his Smith had fired. He’d not had time to react and pull the trigger. Yet the woman was dead. “How?” he muttered aloud, pounding the table silently with a clenched fist.

Take the Shot

97

Finally he asked himself, would he take that shot again. And as on previous occasions, he was forced to shake his head, leaving his mind to wonder at the answer. Idly he watched a car slow and park out front. There was nothing unusual about it, except for the lateness of the hour. He noted, however, it would not be visible from any other window in the house. Suddenly he realized he had straightened in the chair. All four doors opened as if on an orchestra conductor’s downbeat. He lunged to his feet. He waited only long enough to see four heads hidden by ski masks, and an auto-load shotgun dangling from a hand of the nearest figure. He ran, scooping up his Smith from the end table as he passed. He had it tucked behind his belt when he dashed into the bedroom. He scooped up Lisa’s bag from the dresser, bodily lifted her from the bed by her upper arms, then began moving quickly back down the hall. “What in hell?” she cried finally, stumbling to keep up. As he shoved her into the hall bathroom, he said sharply, “There’ll be one to four guys with auto-load shotguns breaking through the bedroom door or the slider or both in about a minute. Set up on the floor here. Wait for them to get into the hall, then go for an arm or head. They’re wearing body armor. I’ll cover the front and kitchen door. If either one of us misses, we’ll both likely die.” He dashed back to the dining room, yanking the Smith free. He had managed to put his back to the wall, when a shotgun round blew the lock out of the front door. It was kicked open and two more rounds exploded from the weapon. He lunged around the corner, shoving at the barrel of the gun. The Smith went off in the ear of the man as the kitchen door was blown open. He dove for the floor behind the island as the second man lunged inside and fired twice. He heard the bedroom door crash to the floor out back, and another two blasts were set loose. If this guy got to the hallway, Lisa wouldn’t have a chance. He took a deep breath, then used his left hand to yank himself and the Smith above the counter top. He fired two rounds

98

Bob McElwain

at the moving target. The second caught a cheekbone and the body crumpled into the cabinets, then to the floor. As he dashed for the pantry at the entry to the hall, the glass in the slider door exploded. Two shotgun rounds rattled pellets down the hall. The . exploded as he opened the pantry door, reached for top of it, then stepped up onto the edge of the third shelf. As he shoved the Smith then his eyes around the corner, he knew he’d guessed right. A target this tall had not been anticipated. Lisa fired again and teeth exploded. Lying on her side in the bathroom doorway, she was now sighting on the door to the den. She did not duck as two more rounds ripped down the hall from the weapon in the hands of the man charging from the den. Todd fired. Lisa’s shot came right on top of his. The man crashed face down on the carpet. “Cover my back,” Todd growled. Lisa rolled over quickly, bringing the . up once again, as he dashed into the den. Convinced it was empty of threat, he ducked the body and dashed into the bedroom. When he noted the way in which the first two blasts from the bedroom door had ripped up the bed, he turned away quickly. It was not something he wanted to think about. He wanted to remember only he and Lisa sharing that bed. He dashed from the room and hastily reached down to check for a pulse on the downed man. He was dead as he’d expected; bullets entering through the mouth are generally kill shots. As he paused to be certain the second man was done for, he said, “Grab some clothes, Lisa. But dress in the dining room.” As she ran for the bedroom, it took only seconds to double check the bodies at the kitchen and front door. In the kitchen, he quickly dialed  on the wall phone; he wanted that auto-trace feature just now. “I and my guest have been attacked,” he said evenly moments later. “Four men with ski masks, body armor and auto-load shotguns. We need some serious firepower here. I don’t know whether or not there are others.” He listened for only a moment, then interrupted. “No

Take the Shot

99

need for medical support. Just send a meat wagon.” He set the headset on the counter, then strode quickly into the dining room. Lisa was still barefoot, but otherwise dressed. “I think we’re good. No one is going to get at us we can’t see through one of these three windows.” She was ghostly pale, trembling badly with reaction. She slipped out a speed loader, dumped the cases and cartridges from the pistol, then reloaded. Shaking hands made it a difficult chore. Todd tucked an arm around her waist. “I’m sure sorry you got sucked into this.” He kissed her gently. “If it matters, no one could have done better. And I don’t think I could have got both those guys in the hall by myself.” “I don’t believe this happened.” When he noticed faint trembles in his own hands, and began fighting back that familiar ache in his kidneys, he kissed her lightly, then backed away shaking his head slowly. “It shouldn’t have happened,” he said grimly. “Did you see the bed?” she asked hesitantly. “Yeah.” Yet another image tough to leave behind. “Look,” he said, “it’s going to be a madhouse here in just a bit. They’ll ask the same questions a dozen times. Just give the same answers. If they ask for opinions, you don’t have any. Okay?” She nodded. She shivered, then asked, “That was close, wasn’t it?” “Much too close,” he said grimly. “Someone sold us out.” As he turned away, he said, “I want some rum. How about you? It’s going to be a hell of a long night.” “A double sounds good just now.”

◆

◆

◆

With his cell phone and directory, Todd began running rapidly through a mental list. His first call was to Carlos. “I need you here right now,” he said when Carlos answered. “I have four down trying to take us out.”

100

Bob McElwain

“Be right there.” It was the answer he’d been expecting, but he was vastly relieved to hear it. He caught Parker at home. “I’ve four bodies here. I want you to drop in and tell me how they got here.” He disconnected abruptly. Next he called Wes Fleximan, a man who in his opinion could fi x anything. He wrapped with, “Do whatever you think best. I may not even be available. But try to save that front door. It’s solid walnut, and my dad built it from scratch. The other stuff doesn’t matter. Replace what doesn’t seem worth fixing.” He listened for a moment, then said, “Thanks, Wes. I owe you big time.” He had dialed Avis at the Burbank airport when a cruiser slid to a stop in front of the house, lights flashing. He ordered a car for a week, gave a credit card number, then watched two very professional cops inch their way up toward the house, one with a shotgun at the ready. Still carrying the phone, he stepped around to the open front door and waved them inside. They began moving a bit more quickly, but there was still a great deal of caution. He turned back into the dining room as another cruiser slid to a stop outside. He said thanks, disconnected, then handed the phone to Lisa. “The press will be all over this,” he said. “It’s ugly, but the coverage could lead to info about Stallings or the rapist.” She looked up from the phone. “What are you thinking?” “We can hold some things back, but give it all to your paper. It might bring good follow up.” She nodded, then dialed.

◆

◆

◆

When Parker with Hastings stepped through the front doorway, Todd excused himself and left Lisa at the dining room table to deal with the latest cop wanting answers. He blocked Parker’s forward motion so that the man needed to back up a bit against a small table to create a bit of space between them. His chocolate-brown eyes overflowed with anger.

Take the Shot

101

“Who besides you and your creep partner here, knew about me?” he demanded. Hastings had been standing a bit to the side. He reached out and gripped Todd’s shoulder with his left hand. As Todd glanced down at it, Hastings snarled, “Now listen here, Mister . . .” Todd used his left hand to grip Hastings’ upper arm, yanked it toward him and down so that the man nearly faced the wall. He slammed his right hand into the back of the man’s neck and pushed down, hard, as he moved closer. When he shoved him in the butt with his thigh, Hastings’ head connected solidly with the wall. The sullen thud was heard by all. A sudden silence filled the room as Hastings dropped to the floor like dead meat. Todd whirled back to face Parker. “Could it be this creep?” Parker shook his head. “As you may have noticed, he’s not very bright.” “What did you just see?” he demanded, watching Parker’s eyes intently. “An assault.” he said. “Then the victim defended himself.” “Thanks,” he said with a sigh of relief. “I’m pissed right now.” Parker glanced about. “With good reason, it seems to me.” “Let me show you something.” He turned and strode down the hall. Parker followed. “Lisa was on the floor here,” He pointed into the hall bathroom. “I got lucky with the one who came in through the front door, and the guy who knocked the kitchen door down. Lisa nailed this one,” He pointed at the body in front of the bedroom door. “We both hit the second guy here. She was maybe a second behind me.” Both men eased their way around the bodies and the team working with them. When he stepped into the bedroom, he pointed at the bed. “That’s the results of two rounds,” he said grimly. “They were fired about ten seconds after the front door was blown open.” “I’ve been sleeping on the right, Lisa on the left. There’d be blood and tissue on the floor instead of bits of the mattress, if I hadn’t been up sipping coffee and seen these bastards coming.” Parker reached up and rubbed his chin with a knuckle, then turned to glance at the two bodies in the hall.

102

Bob McElwain

“I want to know who set us up,” Todd said sharply. “So do I,” Parker said, turning back for another look. “It seems as if someone has ears in the squad room.” “What do you mean?” “Cops are like people. We have friends. You know how it goes. We all do a favor now and then. Like an address for a plate. I talked with Internal Affairs. They think somebody has gone into business.” “Then figure who you or the other men talked to and feed I.A. the names, for God’s sake.” Parker nodded agreement. “I’ll get right on it.” He turned toward the door and Todd followed him back down the hall. Parker stopped abruptly at sight of Lisa. Todd realized he hadn’t seen her with the new hair style and clothes. Parker stepped inside the dining room and said, “Talbert, I need a word with Ms. Anders, okay?” Talbert stood quickly and waved Parker into his chair. As he sat down, he was examining Lisa with his eyes. Carlos had arrived while Todd and Parker had been in the bedroom. He now leaned against the wall behind Lisa. Todd nodded in greeting, glad to see the man right where he was. “I’m so very sorry about all this,” Parker said with a wave that included the whole of the house. “It shouldn’t have happened. Nor should you have been forced to take the action you took.” “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Lisa replied. “I certainly never expected anything like it.” “Neither did I. Todd’s home looks like a battlefield,” he commented grimly. “May I make a personal comment?” Lisa nodded as if not sure she wanted him to. “The hair didn’t catch me by surprise, for we received an earlier photo from Redlands. But this new you is totally stunning. It suits you well.” He stood. “Now you must excuse me.” As Parker turned away, Todd was sure the man was blushing. Lisa surely was. At the front door, Todd said, “I’ll deal with the baggage.” He reached down and gripped Hastings’ right arm, yanked it up,

Take the Shot

103

and tucked it around his neck, grabbing it securely with his left hand. Then he followed Parker out onto the porch. Hastings was coming to, but he wasn’t with the program yet. “What’s happening?” he demanded. “Just follow Parker,” Todd replied. “Who the hell’s Parker?” Hastings cried.

◆

◆

◆

When Todd got back into the dining room, Carlos was speaking to another cop asking Lisa questions. “Ms. Anders was fired upon by two men with shotguns, and she returned fire with her .. What she was wearing is of no importance.” “Butt out, Mister,” the cop demanded. Todd was suddenly attentive, glancing between the hard look on Lisa’s face, the smile on that of Carlos, and the determined glare in the cop’s eyes. “For your personal, ah, . . . files,” Lisa said with each word etched in scorn. “I sleep in the nude. Since I was awakened from sleep by Mr. Hallster, I was nude when I fired. But as Mr. Santiago has pointed out, this information is not required for an official report of the shooting. “Men such as you who lack imagination, who have so little grace and style annoy me. I suggest you leave now, before making an even greater fool of yourself.” The cop seemed about to burst with rage. But then he stood and stalked out of the dining room. “Ah, Lisa,” Carlos said shaking his head, smiling broadly. “I have always envied people like you who have the words.” He chuckled. “What you did so pleasantly was to cut off his balls and feed them to him off a dainty silver plate.” Carlos tipped his head back and roared with laugher. Lisa only blushed. “Will one of you tell me what’s going on here?” Todd asked. Lisa laid a hand on his arm. “The man was fascinated with the fact that I was naked, and in your bed. I think he wanted to know when we last made love and how, but was afraid to

104

Bob McElwain

ask. Carlos told him he didn’t think these things belonged in a police report. I only added that I felt the same way,” she ended crisply. “Uhmm,” Todd murmured. When he glanced up at Carlos, the man laughed again, than sat down beside Lisa. He picked up her hand, and in a most courtly manner, lifted it to his lips and kissed it. “Thank you, I think,” she said with a smile. “You are magnifico, Lisa. I hope you will continue to reveal at least what can be seen of you like this. The hair?” He shook his huge head, then cupped her chin with the blondness. “It gives you such a lovely face. You must not lose sight of this again,” he said sternly. “I won’t. I promise.” “I’ll hold you to that,” the big man said, broadening his smile.

◆

◆

◆

“I’ve had more than enough,” Todd said to Lisa. Except for those late getting here, the toe-stepping herd of cops and press had left. Lisa nodded emphatically. “I’d love to be someplace else. Almost anyplace would do.” “Come on,” he said, standing. “You too, Carlos. There’s something I want you to see.” The hallway was still jammed with those huddled over the bodies. He stepped out the doorway to the kitchen, led the way around the house, then back into the bedroom. “Check out the bed,” he said grimly. “Those two rounds went off ten seconds after the front door was blown open.” “Madra mia,” Carlos murmured. Lisa seemed unable to look away from the grim scene. “Someone wants us badly,” Todd said. “Yeah,” Carlos replied. “We must move with care.” Todd nodded. In the closet, he found the carry-all bag and tossed it on the bed with two pairs of Chinos and three shirts.

Take the Shot

105

“Tuck whatever you need in that, Lisa. We’ll be on the move for a time.” Their weapons had been taken for ballistics tests. Todd fished on the upper shelf of the closet, then handed Lisa a Smith & Wesson .. “If the lack of plating doesn’t bother, that might do. The barrel is an inch longer than yours, but see if it’ll work for you. Your speed loaders should be good.” Lisa checked to see it was empty, then sighted quickly on several items about the room. She cocked it, then squeezed the trigger. Then did it again. “This will do fine,” she said. She loaded it, tucked it into her shoulder bag, then began reaching for clothes which she rolled, before tucking them into the bag. Todd pulled down two Smith & Wesson auto-loads, twins to the one he’d had to give up. He checked each with care. He loaded a clip into one, chambered a round, then tucked it into the holster. He handed the other to Carlos. “The trunk of your car maybe?” Carlos nodded and tucked the pistol behind his belt. When Lisa zipped up the bag, Todd picked it up, looked again at the bed, shook his head slowly, then strode to the bedroom doorway and out into the yard. He and Carlos made a path for Lisa through the press people still hoping for more. At his car, Carlos climbed behind the wheel as Lisa slid over from the passenger side, fishing for the center seatbelt. “It’s broken,” Carlos said with his habitual smile as Todd closed his door. “Then I’ll just have to lean on that lovely shoulder of yours,” Lisa said with a sigh. “You didn’t want to do that in Todd’s truck.” “I didn’t know you then.” “Have you talked of such things with Todd?” “Do you think he might be the jealous type?” “I don’t think I want to ask him such questions.” As Carlos fired the engine, Todd said, “I’m right here if anyone needs me.” Carlos laughed, examined all before them, then drove off. Lisa took a grip on Todd’s forearm with both hands. He could feel lingerings of faint tremors.

106

Bob McElwain

Chapter 8 It had been five in the morning when they reached the Shadow Inn on the beach north of Santa Monica. After some much needed rest, Carlos drove them back out to the Valley where Todd picked up the rental he’d ordered at the Burbank Airport. With Carlos following, Todd stopped at his bank for more cash; using a credit card was too risky now. He also stopped to pick up a copy of the Los Angeles Herald. The attack on his home last night dominated the front page. Lisa’s article with Amy was on the second front page. He glanced only at the photos of the two young women at age seventeen as he walked back to the car. Inside, he handed the paper to Lisa. “This reads well,” she said after a moment, gazing out the windshield. “I hope it helps in some way. I’m uncomfortable seeing this much about myself in print.”

◆

◆

◆

Back at the motel over dinner, Todd reported what Parker had told him on the phone. “He sent his best team into Horizon, Inc. The word is Stallings left the firm to put together a big buck package for himself. But Parker isn’t buying this. “That Beech Baron at Whitman is owned by Horizon, not Stallings.” “Matt saw him flying it,” Carlos commented. “If he was no longer working for Horizon, he must have had a personal reason.” “Parker’s men checked closely,” Todd said. “The guy in charge pointed out the logs in the office don’t show any recent flying time. So it remains something of a puzzle. “If Stallings still had the keys, he could have picked up or

Take the Shot

107

delivered something quickly for personal reasons to either the Van Nuys or Burbank Airport. “Whatever,” he continued, “he’s wanted for the murder of Derrick Baldwin now. The guy who saw him dump the . made a positive identification. Lots of people are looking for him.” “If somebody would tell me where he is,” Carlos said grimly, “I’d be happy to save the State a lot of trouble and money.” “Probably just as well for you that you don’t,” Todd commented. “Yeah,” Carlos said with a sigh. “Did the news reports or my article with Amy come up?” Lisa asked. Todd nodded. “Parker is hopeful. Rape hotline calls have skyrocketed. He has a computer whiz downtown cross checking all input in a lot of trick ways. He had seven stakeout teams in action yesterday at places the killer may have been seen. There’re nine today.” “What if he can’t find this man?” she asked, shivering noticeably. “I don’t know,” he replied frankly. “But Parker is good. It’s too soon to count him out.”

◆

◆

◆

When they left the coffee shop, the sun was only a bright golden semicircle on the horizon. Carlos got his shotgun from the trunk of his car, and headed up the slope to the oak tree from which he had a good view of the entrance and their rooms. Arm in arm, Todd and Lisa walked down to the beach. Todd sat down on a bench and took off his Reeboks and socks. Lisa slipped out of her sandals. After tucking their things under the bench, he stood and watched the breakers for a time, wiggling his toes in the sand. It was something he loved to do; he hadn’t been doing it often enough, and certainly not recently. When he started toward the water, Lisa again tucked her arm in his and asked, “How much of this can a person take?”

108

Bob McElwain

He shook his head. “We never can say. But you know what?” he asked, turning to face her. “You seem to be getting stronger every day. You have one hell of a lot of tough.” “Thank you, I think,” she replied. They turned to walk parallel to the breaking waves, the sand now wet beneath their feet. The salty water occasionally embraced their feet, then receded. Todd watched the light show the setting sun provided with the help of wispy clouds. Lisa reached down and picked up a two-foot length of driftwood. “Just what I need,” she said. “For what?” “I’ve been thinking of that priority thingie of yours, where you come fourth below the children and career.” She led him up above the reach of the breaking waves. “You’ve got it all wrong.” “Uhmm.” She drew two large circles side by side in the wet sand with the driftwood. “Forget that ‘Uhmm’ stuff, at least for now. Just sit down.” “Why?” “Don’t be so stubborn. Just do it. Now.” “Uhmm,” he murmured again, but he did settle onto his heels. “This circle is you, okay?” She printed “you” in the sand. “This one is me,” she said, printing “me” within it. Next she drew a third circle that evenly overlapped the first two. At the top of it, she printed “us.” “As you’ve often said, it’s us, not just you or me. Over here,” she said, pointing to that part of the “you” circle that was not overlapped. “This is your life, whatever you want to do with it, including Sylmar Security. And this is whatever I want, primarily writing.” She pointed to the “me” circle. “What matters is the ‘us’ circle. Some of me, some of you, and some children. And all the things ‘us’ means. This is the focus for that part of you that is not Sylmar Security and for that part of me that is not writing.” She knelt beside him and leaned her head into his shoulder, clinging to his arm. “When our Johnny falls out of that tree, we’re both going to get to him just as soon as we can. I’ll catch

Take the Shot

109

the first plane out of New York. You’ll wrap that hostage situation as quickly as possible. “What matters is we’re both pointed directly at Johnny. As long as he knows we’re on the way, he’ll listen to a friend or a doctor comforting him. And while he may not like the waiting, he’ll get through it because he knows we are coming. “What’s more, that part of the time he doesn’t need us, is ours, to do with as we please.” She squeezed his arm with both hands and asked, “What do you think? Isn’t this a better way to look at it all?” “Uhmm,” he murmured. “You are a . . . a barbarian!” she cried, then shoved him just as hard as she could. She did manage to knock him off his heels, but he quickly steadied himself and lunged up onto his knees. He took her by her arms and pulled her to him, holding her close. After a time he stood and studied the circles she had drawn in the wet sand. He was aware she was watching him closely, as if looking for a clue to his thoughts. Marriage? Kids? Was he ready for this? For her view? He took her hand in his and started on down the beach. They had taken only a few steps, when Lisa demanded, “Don’t you think there’s at least some merit in the picture I drew?” “Uhmm,” he murmured. “You’re impossible,” she muttered. A few steps further on, she asked, “Can I ask a personal question?” “Go for it.” “Have you any further thoughts about how angry you got when Officer Hastings mentioned the shooting?” “I shoved him around pretty good last night. Don’t you think that was worse than when I lost my cool?” She shook her head. “What you did last night was put an end to behavior that had been annoying you for some time.” “But I was as mad as hell. Couldn’t you see that?” “It wasn’t the same. Your eyes were clear. Angry, yes. But focused. It was as if you decided upon a course of action, double checked it, then executed it, deliberately, efficiently, and ruthlessly.”

110

Bob McElwain

“And that didn’t upset you?” “Only in that violence frightens me. But no,” she continued with a shake of her head, “your reaction to what Officer Hastings said was different. Frightening as well, but in a different way.” “Overreaction is probably the better word. Like I said, it’s a seldom thing for me.” “I believe that. You may be the most self-confident person I’ve known.” “Flattery? I’m not ready for this.” “I’m just setting you up.” “For?” “I want to butt into your life.” He turned toward her and let himself become lost in the incredible blue of her eyes. “Now I’m sure I’m not ready. But go for it.” “When I asked if you’d take the shot under the same circumstances, you said, ‘I like to think so.’ There’s a not-sure thingie in that statement.” He looked away, out over the breakers at the horizon, then said, “You’ve still got the podium.” “You’re afraid you may not be able to take that shot again.” “What makes you think that?” She placed her hand on his arm, then said, “You told me the woman’s husband and father both came by to assure you what you did was right. The police department may have moved too slowly, but they finally agreed your actions were appropriate. Even the press came over to your point of view. And the people you had worked with all took your side. Isn’t this true?” He nodded, still gazing at the horizon. “But when a jerk in your own home said you screwed up, you acted as if you were prepared to kill him. Ready to rip his heart out with your bare hands. Who were you really mad at? Him? Or yourself?” Slowly he turned to look at her. “Myself?” he asked finally. She took his hand with both of hers. “I don’t know. I’m not a doctor. And they don’t always get it right. But it’s what I felt at the time.”

Take the Shot

111

She began stroking the back of his hand. “I’m a self-made expert on the fragility of human self-confidence,” she said woefully. “It doesn’t take much to destroy an otherwise solid structure. Despite loads of great advice, and my own study, I can’t forgive myself for a dumb mistake I made on my seventeenth birthday. I wonder if something like this has happened to you.” “Is that why I haven’t already started Sylmar Security?” “Now you’re way over my head. But it’s possible. You don’t know if you could take that shot again. You may never know. No one facing the harsh realities of city streets can be certain they’ll get it right. To expect you can or should every time is to expect far too much of yourself, don’t you think?” The silence grew between them. He watched worry and concern etch themselves more deeply into her drawn features. “Relax,” he said. “I’m not looking to hit anyone.” “It’s not me I’m worried about,” she said, gripping his hand. He sighed, took a deep breath, then said, “A part of me wants to drag you over my knee and pound on your backside so hard you’ll never want to sit on it again.” She smiled, then asked, “And the other part?” “I’m going to wander down the beach with that part and think this through. I’d enjoy your company.” She let her hand become lost in his and they continued on down the beach.

◆

◆

◆

Back at the door to their motel room, Todd said, “Carlos needs some sleep. I’ll have to cover for a time.” When she nodded, he kissed her again, watched her slip inside, and listened until the bolt slid closed. He turned away and started up the hill. Abruptly he turned back and made his way down to the beach, to the circles Lisa had drawn in the sand. The incoming tide was beginning to wash over them now. He gazed at her work for some time, until certain he had not only the drawing clearly fi xed in mind, but all the neat things she had meant it to say.

112

Bob McElwain

◆

◆

◆

When Todd joined Carlos under the giant oak, he said, “We should already be in business. I’m holding things up.” “It’s not a race, is it?” Carlos responded with a chuckle. “No. But we best get to it.” He turned back to look at the waves, even more beautiful now, breaking in the moon’s light. “Lisa thinks I’m hung up on that shooting.” “I have thought this. I think she’s right.” Carlos chuckled again. “How is it women know so much more about us than we do about them?” Todd shook his head. “Can’t say, but it’s so.” Carlos laughed. “But there is something more in this, I think. It can take time to get the mind in the same groove as the heart.” He nodded. “I wonder why we haven’t talked of this, as we often do about things that matter.” “We can’t butt into each other’s life too often or we won’t be friends long. Especially in something like this in which we’re different. I never ask myself what-if questions. “You do, but I don’t think it always helps. You may again face such a situation. You may take the shot. Or you may not. But it is not something we can sit here and decide now.” His smile broadened. “I know you, buddy. You have always made good moves when you needed to. And you always will.” Carlos handed him the shotgun, then started down the hill. Abruptly he turned back and said, “You tried to tell me once that I was in love with Victoria.” Todd only nodded. “You should have used a baseball bat, buddy. I didn’t hear you.” “So?” “I return the favor now. You’re in love with Lisa.” “Sure, but . . .” “What else is there?” “She gets that same look on her face that Darlene did when I slip on the shoulder rig.”

Take the Shot

113

“You’re not thinking. Darlene is a wonderful girl. But Lisa is not Darlene. She has all the strength one needs.” Todd nodded. “I don’t even know why I brought that up. After the way she handled herself last night, she has nothing to prove to anyone.” “So what’s the problem?” Todd sighed. “She’s got an awfully sharp tongue. I don’t know if I can live with that.” Carlos tipped his head back and roared with laughter. “Find a way, buddy.” Then he turned back down the hill, still chuckling.

◆

◆

◆

Todd came awake abruptly. That he had, bothered him, for it didn’t happen often. True, it had been a restless night. As he had tried to get to sleep, conflicting thoughts and unanswered questions collided with one another in his mind. Since this was happening even now, it was probably the cause of his restlessness. Still, he wondered, what had awakened him. A sound of some sort? He listened intently, but heard nothing unusual. He slipped out of bed and cracked open the heavy drape on the window. He examined all he could see in the bright morning sun. There was nothing out of sync so far as he could tell. What the hell was it, he wondered. He glanced at his watch. Only nine o’clock. He looked back at the bed and the pillow, but determinedly turned away. Then he looked back. Lisa wasn’t the reason for his coming awake, for she was deep in sleep. Only the sheet covered her upper body. He watched the even rise and fall of her chest, and her lovely breasts. At least for the moment, she was free of fear, even if he was not. As he had repeatedly, he reviewed what little they knew. It amounted to lots of reports about where the rapist may have been seen. And details gleaned about Clyde Stallings, a killer most likely being directed by the rapist. He slipped the cell phone from his pants, went into the bathroom, closed the door, then dialed. “Lt. Parker.”

114

Bob McElwain

“Todd here.” “What do you have?” “Nothing. That’s the problem. Have we overlooked something?” “Are you awake?” “Mostly,” he sighed. “Anything new from your computer whiz?” “More of the same. We’ll have nine teams out again today.” “Listen,” he said, tugging briefly on an ear, “did anyone think to check what we have on Stallings against what you have for the rapist?” “That idea hasn’t come up before.” “Stallings worked for Horizon, Inc. Matt saw him fly a company plane. Where is Horizon located? Do you know off hand?” “Hold one. I’ll check with one of the men who went out there.” Moments later, Parker said excitedly, “You may have something. They lease the top three floors in the Kiplinger Building on Ventura Boulevard. Ms. Anders’ article brought in one report from a person who may have seen the rapist there. I’ll divert one of the teams right away.” “We’ll go crazy sitting here on our butts. Why not let us check that out? If that’s no go, find something better for tomorrow.” “That will work. If one of my men drives, you can use our GMC Yukon. Tinted glass all around. Ms. Anders would be safe. And she might appreciate the chemical toilet.” “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

◆

◆

◆

Lisa and Todd were in the back seat of the Yukon, as Officer Yates pulled into the underground garage beneath the Kiplinger Building. Carlos had driven directly here, and, as hoped, he’d been able to find a parking spot close to the stairs and elevator that opened into the garage. When he backed out, Yates backed the Yukon in. There were only two cars between them and the entrances. As agreed, Yates left both the driver and passenger windows open, hoping to look less like a surveillance vehicle. He strode

Take the Shot

115

toward the stairs with one of Carlos’ radios in his pocket. His destination was the coffee shop on the second floor of the building. He would take a close look at all who visited today. Todd watched Carlos pull into a slot toward the front of the garage near the guard station. The man got out and climbed into the back seat where he would be tough to spot. Todd and Lisa were invisible to all, unless someone actually stuck their head inside through one of the open windows. And they had an unobstructed view of the stairs and elevator. “What now?” Lisa demanded. “We wait.” “It doesn’t sound exciting.” “It isn’t, but we’re going to have to do this with every lead Parker can give us. We’ve got to put a name to this killer, else we lose.” She snuggled up against his shoulder and did her best to appear interested in the task.

◆

◆

◆

Three hours later, Lisa watched yet another man step out of the elevator and walk off into the garage. “You almost seem to be enjoying this,” she said. “I’m good at waiting, but to say I enjoy it is a little much.” “I’m utterly bored, except that I’m frightened.” He didn’t have an answer for that. With his hands, he turned her sideways on the seat, then began to gently rub tense muscles in her shoulders. “You have wonderful hands,” she murmured.

◆

◆

◆

“I’m hungry,” Lisa said with a false poutiness. Todd glanced at his watch. “It’s only five-thirty. We need to give it at least another hour and a half.” “Humor me,” she said. “Do that thingie with my shoulders again.”

116

Bob McElwain

He was enjoying the way the material of her blouse drifted over her back when she suddenly tensed, becoming totally still. He moved only his eyes. A tall, well-built man in his late thirties opened the rear door of a Cadillac limo and slipped inside. His hair was longer and he was wearing a stylish goatee. But this was the man who had attacked Lisa, nine years ago. He waited only long enough for the limo to pass the Yukon, then grabbed the radio to raise Carlos. “The black Caddy limo. See if the guard at the entrance knows who’s inside.” “Right,” Carlos replied. “Did you copy, Yates?” Todd asked. “I’m on my way down,” came the prompt reply. When the limo passed Carlos, he climbed out of the back seat of his car and strode toward the guard shack. Todd had been aware that Lisa was trembling. But it seemed to be getting worse. As he reached for her, she said, “It was if I was looking into the eyes of a mountain rattler a foot away, one ready to strike.” She shuddered, then plunged her arms around his neck and pulled herself to him. He gently rubbed her back with both hands. As Yates slipped behind the wheel, Carlos climbed back into his car. Into the radio he said, “With those smoked windows, the guy couldn’t say who was in the car, but it belongs to Jeffery Fletcher and the driver was his.” “Know who he is?” Todd asked. “Yeah. He owns Horizon, Inc. This may be a tough sell.” “Let’s see Parker.” “Right.”

◆

◆

◆

In Parker’s office at Foothill Division, the three of them stood behind the man as he brought up a copy of the driver license belonging to Jeffery Fletcher. Even before the image was enlarged, Todd felt Lisa grip his arm tightly. “Is this the man?” Parker asked her.

Take the Shot

117

“Yes,” she said firmly. She turned away and collapsed into the nearest chair. Parker moved back to his desk and fished through a stack of folders. The one he selected was labeled, “Stallings.” He opened it, turned to a set of pages clipped together toward the back, and began scanning them quickly. When he laid the folder aside, he clasped his hands on the desk and said, “Ms. Anders, I don’t want to say this, but you’re going to hear it often. So I want you to be at least mentally prepared.” Lisa nodded uncertainly. “Jeffrey Fletcher owns an international corporation that has financial dealings in over twenty countries.” He paused, shook his head slowly, then said, “While I don’t doubt what you have shared in any way, others will. We may not be able to make a case stick.” Todd had been watching Lisa throughout. It wasn’t news to him, but it was to her. She had paled visibly, and now sat motionless staring at Parker. “My word against his isn’t good enough,” she said. “Is that it?” “It may not be,” Parker said, standing. “Let’s go see the Captain.”

◆

◆

◆

Parker had gone over what he had, spoon feeding Captain Saunders easy-to-swallow bites. He had begun with details received from Redlands and had included Lisa’s most recent statement. He emphasized that the DNA evidence was indisputable. “Except for Ms. Anders here,” Saunders said, nodding toward Lisa, “I haven’t heard anything about witnesses.” “We have several,” Parker said. “They identified only the sketch Ms. Anders helped us put together. We’ll have to follow up with an actual photograph and obtain new statements, but it would be premature to mention his name. “The statements will hold. Witnesses noted either that the man they saw had longer hair or a goatee or both. “Five people identified Fletcher as being in Castileon’s Grocery with Tammy MacAlister while she was shopping. One was close to both of them when Tammy toppled some cans off a shelf.

118

Bob McElwain

And he saw Fletcher helping her return what had fallen to the shelves. They smiled at and chatted with each other throughout, and for several minutes after finishing up. “One witness saw them leave separately. One saw Fletcher talking with Tammy while he was in the car, and she was on the sidewalk. And one saw him take the groceries Tammy was carrying, and put then into the back seat of the car as Tammy got into the front seat. Both of the latter reported she was carrying two bags of groceries. This is reasonable, as she lived only five blocks from the store. “Although the ‘acquaintance’ here between the two was limited, a seventeen year old woman can make such a mistake. She accepted a ride home to save lugging the groceries.” Saunders reached up and scratched his bald pate. “But you don’t have a witness who can say Fletcher killed Ms. MacAlister. The guy you mentioned, saw nothing. He only heard sounds of digging, which led to the grave.” “That’s true,” Parker replied. “Have you anything on the weapon?” Saunders asked. “Nothing that helps. It is one of a shipment of handguns stolen from a gun shop in St. Louis, Missouri, fifteen years ago.” Parker paused, rubbing at his chin for a moment. “The pistol that killed Derrick Baldwin was taken in that same robbery. And Stallings is the man who pulled the trigger. But we haven’t been able to connect the two weapons in any other way.” Saunders sighed, then leaned out over the desk on his elbows. The bright florescent light reflected off his head. “Lieutenant,” he began, “by your own accounts this man is a powerful figure in this city. And rich as well. He could buy a busload of willing young women every Friday and pay for them with small change. And yet you want this department to accuse him of rape.” Saunders idly shuffled a small stack of papers on his desk, then asked, “Know who Gorden Harrison is?” Parker nodded. “Rich and powerful. Far more so than Fletcher. A political force to be reckoned with.” Saunders nodded. “And Fletcher is married to his only daughter. She’s the key to his social success.” He paused, then

Take the Shot

119

continued, “We can’t run out, pick this guy off the street, and require a sample of ejaculate. Either of these two men can start a firestorm that could break the whole department.” Into the growing silence, Todd said, “Twenty-seven years with General Telephone. Hasn’t even moved inside. Still a foreman of a field crew.” “Who are you talking about?” Saunders demanded. “Tammy’s father,” Todd replied. “He’s just another expendable worker ant. Hell, her mom doesn’t even have a job; she’s just a housewife.” “What the hell is this supposed to mean, Hallster?” “Bucks rule. I guess they always will.” “Knock that off right now.” “I don’t work for you any more, Captain.” Saunders glared at Todd, searching for a snappy rebuttal. “That’s it?” Lisa demanded. She shook her head slowly. “My editor, George Sheffield, is going to love the way I write this up. I do hope you enjoy what thoughtful readers make of it.” “Now wait a minute, Ms. Anders. We believe everything that’s been said here. But making it work in a courtroom is another matter. The reality is you might not be able to successfully prosecute Fletcher for rape in Redlands. Adding in the murder charge makes it even more difficult for us. Unfortunately, financial resources matter more than they should.” “I’ll point that out to our readers,” Lisa said sweetly. Parker leaned forward and asked, “What do you need?” “Hell, I wish I could say. A verifiable psychological profile might help, but that’s tough to get without the man’s cooperation. You might find something helpful if you dig into his financial records, but don’t let him catch you at it. “Clyde Stallings may be the key. Show killing that jogger was actually an attempt to hit Ms. Anders, then link that back to Fletcher. Now you’d have a case.” “We haven’t got much on that.” “I know,” Saunders said. When he stood, the meeting was over. The others stood as well. “Whatever you do, don’t let this guy know what you’re up to. Don’t even think of any wire taps.

120

Bob McElwain

And forget tailing him; you’ll be spotted and the stuff will hit the fan. Go at this real easy, else some jobs, including mine, will go away. Have you got that?” Parker nodded. “You and I will check with the DA’s office tomorrow. Maybe somebody there will have a better idea. Okay?” Parker nodded again, then stood and strode out of the room. The others followed.

◆

◆

◆

“This is the kind of thing I was talking about,” Todd said to Lisa as they stepped back into Parker’s office. “The department is not guided by law. It’s dominated by organized community demands, big business, or bucks.” “That’s not entirely fair,” Parker said as he walked around his desk and sat down. “Uhmm,” Todd murmured. “We’re not finished yet,” Parker said sharply, scowling. “If word gets to Fletcher he’s been made, he may run,” Todd commented. Parker nodded. “I’ll pull some men off stakeouts, but keep enough working so as to not risk that. It’s a waste of manpower, but I don’t see another way. I and the Captain will be the only people who know. I’ll type the statement myself that Ms. Anders needs to sign. “We’ll dig more deeply into Fletcher’s background and his current financial situation. I’ve a friend with the IRS who will be interested in anything irregular. “But the key is Stallings, as the Captain suggested. We’ll work this just as hard as we can. We need to tie him to Fletcher.” “Are you going to tail Fletcher?” Carlos asked. “You heard the Captain; he’d have my badge.” “I don’t have a badge to lose,” Todd murmured. “Neither do I,” Carlos added.

Take the Shot

121

Parker stared at them for several moments. “You’re both licensed. I can’t stop you. But screw this up, and we’re all in serious trouble.” “I don’t screw up often,” Todd commented. “Neither does Carlos.” Parker sighed, but nodded. “It could even help.” “Can you cover Lisa?” “Yes.” “I’m going with you,” she said sharply. “You can’t. The ‘we’ here is me and Carlos. And we’ll have a guy backing us up.” “Then get somebody else to do it,” she snapped. “Matt is dead because of what I asked of him,” Carlos said. “This we must do ourselves.” “Then I’m coming, too. I’ll go crazy just sitting around somewhere waiting for that bastard to kill me.” “As I mentioned,” Parker said, “I admire your strength and courage. But right now, you must find more. The Fairmont Hotel is first class. With a team around the clock, you’ll be safe. And these men will be free to do the job.” “I won’t get in their way.” Parker shook his head slowly. “You would be in the way, simply by being with them.” “Because I’m a woman?” she snapped. “That’s chauvinistic crap.” “No. Because you’re not a professional. These men are. Two of the best. Don’t force them to worry about you as well as the job. Any distraction can be fatal.” Lisa turned to glare at Todd. “He’s right,” he said, trying to soften the words. She sighed. “How long will this take?” “Until we or Parker’s team come up with something,” “But what are you looking for?” “Can’t say until someone finds it.”

◆

◆

◆

122

Bob McElwain

Chapter 9 Todd and Lisa had shared a dinner neither seemed to enjoy. And he’d spent the night with her at the Fairmont Hotel. It had been a taut and nervous time for both of them. “I’ll go crazy locked up here,” she had said emphatically at one point. He had only been able to hold her closely. Much too early in the morning to suit him, he slipped on his clothes, then gazed for some time at Lisa, peaceful at least in sleep. Outside, he nodded at the two men prepared to prevent entry to her rooms at any price. It was not a pleasant thought. When he returned two hours later, peering over a double armload of bags, one of the guards spoke briefly into a radio. At his knock on the door, a uniformed female officer opened it and invited him in. Her name tag read, “Officer Layton.” He knew she, or another female officer, would always be inside with Lisa. “You’ve company,” Office Layton called out to Lisa in the bedroom. She rushed into the room. Her eyes became impossibly brighter at the sight of him. “What in the world?” she asked. He set the bags on the table. “I called Ted Wellington, our genius electronics guy. He said this is the best.” “Best what?” Lisa demanded, pawing through the bags. “This?” she said, holding up the Compaq laptop computer. He nodded. “Supposedly everything you need is included here.” He extended a business card. “I got it all from this fellow. He’s close. So if you need more, give him a call. He’ll deliver.” “But what am I supposed to do with it?” “Write some stuff ?” “Like what?” she said, shaking her head.

Take the Shot

123

“Maybe try to capture all the feelings you’ve had this last week. Something of fear, maybe. Or the power of bucks. Explain what it’s like to be forced to take a man’s life, and how you’ll live with it. You can use stuff like this in later work, can’t you?” “It would be better than letting these walls close down on me,” she said thoughtfully. She quickly examined the content in the remaining bags. “It will take me a week to learn how to use all of this.” “Maybe it’ll cut down on boredom some.” She nodded. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy at least getting everything running right. But I’m not sure I have much to say.” “Will you excuse us a moment, Officer Layton?” When she nodded, Todd tucked his arm under Lisa’s and started toward the bedroom. “Try this,” he said speaking softly. “Pretend I’m due here at five this afternoon. Describe all the things we’ll do before falling asleep exhausted at two in the morning. And the way each of us will feel about every little part of that doing.” “You’ve a dirty mind,” she said with a smile. Then she reached up and kissed him. “Besides, I’d rather do it, than write about it.” “Write it and I’ll read it.” He gave her another hug. “Got to go,” he said. “I know it sounds silly, but be careful?” “Count on it.”

◆

◆

◆

Ted Wellington, using a fake work order, had spent an hour in the underground garage at the Kiplinger Building, supposedly checking out the video camera that tracked all that happened there. What he’d done was add a splitter between the camera and the output cable. Then he’d stolen a bit of power for a small transmitter that sent a copy of all that was viewed. On the floor in the front seat of Todd’s rental, a small monitor wired to twelve volt lines under the hood picked up the copied signal and displayed it.

124

Bob McElwain

Parked half a block away headed west on Elson Street, the monitor gave Todd a view of anyone who entered the garage from the stairs or elevator. And it tracked them as they exited the garage in a vehicle onto Sexton Avenue. If they turned north, Taylor Biden would follow initially. However, most turned south toward Elson. And most took another left on Elson toward Ventura Boulevard, passing Carlos in doing so. Between the three men, they had all exit routes covered. All had worked thus far, better than planned. Fletcher seldom left the building. He had used the limo exclusively. And his pattern had been to turn left on Sexton when exiting the garage. Then left again onto Elson. Just now Carlos was parked ready to follow from this position. Biden always remained behind. His job was to make sure neither Todd nor Carlos was approached from the rear. They stayed well back, preferring to risk losing the limo rather than being caught at the game. While it was unlikely Fletcher knew much about such things, his driver might. It was a chance they did not want to take. They switched positions now and then so that the same car did not remain too long behind the limo. Today was the first day of the second week of following the man. They had not discovered anything of interest. But neither had Parker’s people. There’d been no trace of Clyde Stallings and no further information about him had come to light. Checking into Fletcher’s background had revealed nothing more thus far than that he’d put together a substantial fortune in a relatively short time. It had not been boring time. The thought of Matt Heylock in the morgue was sufficient reminder to remain fully alert and ready. Fletcher enjoyed long lunches at expensive restaurants. Twice he saw a barber after lunch. Saturday night he had escorted his wife to a private party, otherwise they hadn’t seen him during the weekend. They had rented three rooms in a motel close to Fletcher’s home in the Hollywood Hills. Biden took the night off and got a good rest. He was to fill in for either Carlos or Todd, if need be. So far, though, Todd watching at Fletcher’s home until one

Take the Shot

125

in the morning then Carlos taking that spot at five had been working well. While they both were tired, each was holding his own. They had rented five additional cars. Each man switched to a different one every night at the motel. All had extra clothes in the back seat. Caps, shirts, jackets, and so forth, so they seldom looked to be the same person for more than an hour or so. Todd had called Lisa as he could. But it didn’t seem to help. She remained badly frightened. He was delighted to know, though, she was doing her best to wear out the new laptop computer. Her fondness for this new tool had in fact decreased boredom to an occasional problem. Todd had made good use of the think time. He now had a handle on his feelings about the hostage shooting. And he felt confident he could work through lingering emotional sub-currents. But thoughts of Lisa dominated. Memories of the scents and feel of her had nearly overwhelmed him at times. He had spent hours chatting with himself and arguing with her in his mind about marriage, about kids, and about what life would be with her. Each new day had brought a stronger conviction that the three circles she had drawn in the wet sand had summed up the whole of it very nicely. They had just adjusted their positions at the Kiplinger Building after following Fletcher back from lunch, when Todd suddenly bent over to study the monitor more closely. He picked up the small radio and said, “We’ve something interesting here, maybe. Fletcher is getting into an ermine white Lincoln.” He watched the monitor closely as Fletcher drove toward the entrance to the garage. Moments later the Lincoln slowed at the corner on Sexton, and then took the left. No question. It was Fletcher. And he was alone. “He’s coming at you, Carlos.” “Got him,” came the quick reply. Todd fired the engine, pulled to the corner, made a U-turn, and pushed a bit, wanting to get nearer to Carlos.

126

Bob McElwain

“We should hang a little closer?” Carlos asked over the radio. “Yeah. I doubt he’s a pro and we sure don’t want to lose him now.” “He doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. That helps.” “Right. Let me know when you want me to come up.” “Okay.”

◆

◆

◆

An hour later, they were on Ambrose in Chatsworth. The street was lined with luxury apartments. Todd was up front, followed by Carlos, with Biden guarding the rear. When Fletcher turned into an underground garage beneath the Bastion Arms, Todd drove on by, made a U-turn at the corner, then parked at the curb across the street from the building. “Hold back, Carlos,” he said into the radio. “He’s inside . The Bastion Arms. The stairway in front is glassed in. I’ll watch for a bit.” “Right.” He got out of the car, strode up the sidewalk, and then jogged up the steps and through the entrance of the building directly across the street from the Bastion Arms. Whistling, fumbling with a mailbox as if trying to open it, he watched the stairway across the street. From where he stood, he could only see the first few doors on the first and third floor, but he could see all those on the second floor. “No,” he muttered as Fletcher came into view just below the first floor hallway. “Try the second floor.” Beyond watching Fletcher get in and out of his limo, this was Todd’s first view of the man in motion. His step was light and he moved quickly and easily. When he neared the second floor, Todd crossed mental fingers. When he turned into the hallway, Todd could have cheered. He gave up fiddling with the mailbox, and moved to stand just inside the entrance, watching intently. When Fletcher knocked on a door, Todd tensed. It was opened quickly as if the man was expected. The warm smile on the face of the full-breasted woman who opened the door underlined

Take the Shot

127

his hunch. Fletcher strode inside and Todd studied what little he could see of the blonde-headed woman as she closed the door behind him. Carefully he counted, and then counted again. He stepped back from the entry, moved to the corner, then said into the radio, “Second floor. Third door from the back of the building on the north side. He’s inside with a woman.” “Maybe she likes it hard,” Carlos commented. “She looks like she can handle that, things his wife wouldn’t stand for.” “I’ll get inside.” Carlos said, “We’d like to meet this woman when he leaves, no?” “Absolutely. I’m in the lobby of the apartment unit across the street. I wouldn’t be able to see that door from the car, so I’ll try the top step out front. I should be good, unless someone runs me off.” “Right. I’m moving.” Carlos had been starting his car as he spoke. “Biden?” Todd asked into the radio. “I read you,” the man came back quickly. “Carlos and I will go in when Fletcher leaves. It may not matter, but will you follow him to wherever he lands?” “Sure. It’s three, so he’ll probably go home.” “Right. Unless you find a good reason, pack it in at that point, and get back to the motel.” “Okay.” “And Biden?” “Yes?” “Remember. You’ll be alone.” “Got it.” Todd walked outside and sat down to the right on the top step. Moments later, Biden drove by. At the corner, he made a U-turn, then pulled into a parking spot two cars behind where Todd was parked. “Now the fun part,” Todd murmured. His stern features were marred by the grim set to his lips. The chocolate-brown eyes seemed cold. They either had something good. Or nothing at all.

128

Bob McElwain

◆

◆

◆

It was nearly four when Todd stood and walked back into the lobby of the apartment building in front of which he’d been sitting. Despite repeated efforts to subdue hope, he continued to become more excited. Still watching the apartment door, he slipped out his radio. “Carlos, we’re looking good.” “Whatever he’s selling, she’s buying,” Carlos replied with a chuckle. “Got a room number?” “.” “I’ll give Parker a call and try to get him headed this way.” “Good thinking.” “Buzz me when you get inside, okay?” “Right. It cost me a hundred, even with my license, to get past the security guard in the garage. There’s one on the front door, too.” “Got it.” Todd tucked the radio away, reached for his wallet, extracted two fifties, and then put them away with his license. He slipped his cell phone out and dialed. “Lt. Parker.” “Todd here. We’ve a possible maybe.” “Go,” Parker said sharply. Todd told him what he thought they had. “Fletcher has been inside for an hour now. Carlos and I can get her to a private lab. But it might be best if you got samples of seminal fluid directly from her.” “Yeah,” Parker said. “It would.” Todd could hear the man rapping his knuckles on the desktop. “I don’t know if this will make the case, but let’s do it. I’ll get with the Captain and ask him to talk to the DA’s office. Then I’ll move out. Where are you?” “The Bastion Arms.  Ambrose Avenue. They’re in room . If Fletcher leaves before you get here, Carlos and I will be inside.” “Okay,” Parker said, then disconnected.

Take the Shot

◆

◆

129

◆

Back on the steps, Todd felt more conspicuous as folks began arriving home for the day. He nodded to those who made eye contact, trying to appear to be waiting for someone. His hopes continued to rise with each passing minute. It was nearly five. A man and a woman generally do more than hold hands for two hours behind the closed door of an apartment. When the door to  opened, Fletcher strode briskly down the hall toward the stairs. The smiling blonde quickly closed the door behind him. Todd was afraid to move for fear of attracting attention. The moment the apartment door was out of sight to Fletcher, Carlos strode boldly to it and knocked lightly. The door was opened quickly by the smiling blonde; she had probably thought Fletcher had returned for a forgotten item or to make a comment. Carlos made no effort at finesse. He shoved the door open, despite obvious complaints and a storm of blows from the blonde who was not smiling now. Todd saw him reach for the woman and lift her bodily from the floor, as he shoved the door closed with his heel. “I’m inside,” Carlos said into the radio, “with a very unhappy lady.” Todd could hear the woman cursing in the background. “Come join the party,” Carlos said with a chuckle. “Just let me make sure Fletcher leaves.” “Right.” Todd tucked the radio away and stepped back inside the lobby of the building. Fletcher drove the Lincoln out of the garage moments later, and then took a left, back the way he had come. When Biden pulled out, Todd crossed the street and walked up to the security guard. He showed his license and was invited to go on in. Neither man mentioned his license wallet was lighter by a hundred bucks. When he knocked on the door to apartment , Carlos’ deep base reverberated through the door. “It’s not locked.”

130

Bob McElwain

When Todd stepped inside, Carlos smiled and tucked the . back into its holster. “Her name is Valerie Westerly,” he said, broadening his smile. “But I had to get it from her purse,” he said, pointing to the dining table to his left. Todd had been watching as Carlos spoke. Her dark eyes tossed hatred at him; he could almost feel it. Up close, he could see the blonde of her hair had come from a bottle. But the buxom body was hers. She was about thirty-two, he guessed, judging from the neck and the backs of her hands. Still, most any guy would love to tumble this woman into bed, if only for a time. “I’m Todd Hallster,” he said. He pulled Lisa’s latest sketch from the inside pocket of his jacket and showed it to her. “Do you know this man?” “You bastards won’t get a thing from me.” She turned abruptly toward the kitchen counter. “I’m going to call a cop,” she snarled. “There’re a couple already on their way. But dial  if you like.” She thought that over for a bit, and then started toward the hall. “I need to go to the bathroom,” she said determinedly. “We’ll come with you,” Todd said, as Carlos fell into step beside her. “It’ll keep, you bastards.” “Would bucks make this any easier for you?” Todd asked. “Go fuck yourself.” “One way or the other, Ms. Westerly,” he said, speaking softly, “we will get what we need. This guy,” he said, pointing at the sketch, “is a rapist and murderer. One of his victims is our client. There have been two attempts on her life. We’re going to put an end to this, whatever it takes.” “Fuck off. Both of you.” So far as Todd could see, they hadn’t made the slightest impression. He didn’t like to think about such things, but he began wondering what it would take to get what they needed from this woman. At the knock on the door, Carlos slipped out the . as Todd reached for the doorknob.

Take the Shot

131

Lt. Parker stepped inside. “Officer Snyder,” he said, to introduce his partner. “What happened to the jerk?” Todd asked. “I told the Captain to accept my transfer request or get rid of the man. I also mentioned he was liable to get somebody killed.” Parker was smiling now. “We decided on Personnel.” “Cool,” Todd commented, turning back into the room. “This is Lt. Parker, Ms. Westerly. Homicide. LAPD.” “I’m pleased to meet you, Ms. Westerly,” he said. “Have these men explained we need your help?” “Fuck you.” “Carlos,” Todd said, “if you can find a condom, we may not need her.” Carlos started down the hall. On Parker’s nod, Snyder followed. When the two men returned a few minutes later, Snyder said, “Nothing, Lieutenant.” “Unless he took it with him,” Carlos said, “she’s carrying quite a load after two hours.” “He doesn’t like condoms,” Ms. Westerly snapped. “When a man pays me a thousand for two hours of my time, he can do as he pleases.” Todd showed the sketch once more. “Is this the guy who just left?” he demanded. She sighed, but nodded faintly this time. “His name?” “Bob Gordon.” As he tucked the sketch away, he said, “That’s not his real name, if it matters.” “Who gives a shit?” she snarled. “His money is good.” “You’ll have to come with us, Ms. Westerly,” Parker said. “Either as a citizen who wants to help. Or we can hold you as a material witness.” She turned toward the hall. “Fuck all you user bastards,” she snarled. She snatched a jacket from the closet and picked up her purse from the table. Then she stepped up close to Parker and growled, “I’m a concerned citizen, you fucking son of a bitch.”

132

Bob McElwain

Snyder opened the door and followed Ms. Westerly into the hall. As Carlos made sure the door was locked behind them, Todd asked Parker, “Any point to following Fletcher now? Excepting this, he hasn’t made a move that isn’t legit.” “It seems a waste,” Parker said, turning to follow Snyder and Westerly down the steps. “Let’s see what this leads to first.” He turned and asked Carlos, “Can you come to the station with us?” Carlos nodded. “Let me return the rental and get my car, then I’ll be right there.” “If it’s okay with you, Parker,” Todd said, “I’d like to bail Lisa out of that hotel.” “I don’t blame you,” he said with a smile. “Do you know where Fletcher is just now?” “I’d guess home. Let me check.” Todd slipped out his cell phone and dialed. When Biden came on the line, he asked, “Is he home?” “Yep. I’m on my way back to the motel.” “We’re going to shut this down, at least for now. Can you get some help and get the cars back to the rental agency?” “Consider it done.” When he disconnected, he said to Parker, “Home. Biden tucked him in.” “I’ll get a couple of cars up there, just in case we get lucky.” “I’ll keep fingers crossed,” he said as they stepped out the front entry. His thoughts suddenly overflowed with images of Lisa. The scents and feel of her. He realized he was walking much more quickly than usual, as he started across the street toward his rental.

◆

◆

◆

As he stepped out of the elevator, two cops looked at him sharply. He walked over to the nearest man. “Todd Hallster,” he said. “Parker is making a move that may be all we need. So I’m going to take Lisa out of here, at least for now.”

Take the Shot

133

“The description fits,” the cop said. “But I need to verify this.” He slipped out a cell phone. Moments later, Todd knocked on the door. Officer Layton opened it. She smiled and opened it further. “If I stayed, I’d only be in the way,” she said with a chuckle, then stepped into the hall. He had closed the door and turned into the small sitting room when Lisa walked out from the bedroom. Her eyes became impossibly brighter, then she ran to him. She threw her arms around his neck, then gripped him tightly with her legs around his waist. She kissed him repeatedly for long stretches at a time. Finally the grip of her legs loosened and she let her feet slip to the floor, still clinging with her arms about his neck. She was breathing heavily. “Is it over?” she asked. “That’s up to someone else to say.” Then he told her what they had. “But we did get lucky. Sometimes that’s all it takes to make a case. At least for now, Parker says forget following. But we still need to stay out of sight.” “Can we leave? The walls are closing in on me.” “How’s the beach sound?” “Wonderful.” He checked his notepad and dialed the motel as she rushed into the bedroom and began stuffing clothes, papers, and all manner of things into the carry-all bag. She tucked the laptop into her large handbag. Then she rushed out and gathered up notes and papers from the coffee table. “Ready,” she cried from the bedroom. When he strode inside, he stopped and looked longingly at the bed. “No,” she said. “I can see you need it, but sleep comes later.” He sighed, picked up the bag and tugged the strap up over his shoulder. He slipped his other arm about her waist and hugged her, holding her close for a moment. “Did you write that five to two in the morning bit?” he asked, nibbling on an ear. Her entire face turned pink. “Yes.”

134

Bob McElwain

“Can I read it?” “You seem to have a sufficient imagination. You don’t need further ammunition. Now let’s go. Please?”

◆

◆

◆

They were headed west on Roscoe. Lisa’s firm grip of his right hand was forcing him to steer with his left. As they were about to turn onto the San Diego Freeway toward Sepulveda Pass and head for Santa Monica, the cell phone sounded. She grudgingly released his hand so he could slip the phone out. “Todd here,” he said. “Buddy,” Carlos said, “This place has come apart.” He pulled to the curb, stopped, and tipped the phone so Lisa could listen in. “Go,” he said. “Internal Affairs nailed a detective in Vice, Elders, with a tap on his phone. But he had called Clyde Stallings at a cell phone number and told him Valerie Westerly is here at the station.” “So it figures Fletcher knows,” he said, noting he had straightened in his seat. “Any idea where Stallings is?” “Nothing. They’re leaning on Detective Elders, but nobody is hopeful.” “Is Fletcher moving?” he asked, clinging tightly to the phone. “Like a rabbit,” Carlos said. “Parker got two cars to his home just in time to see him leaving. He was carrying a large briefcase. One of the two men with him was carrying a suitcase. They took off in that Lincoln.” “Are they still with him?” “They got as far as Ventura Boulevard, where another car dropped in behind him. Four men, and one for sure was carrying an Uzi. Parker was trying to figure a best move, when both cars busted through a red light and scrambled cross traffic all to hell. “Cars are scattered everywhere; one of them rolled. His men had a hell of a time getting through it all. And by the time they did, Fletcher was gone.”

Take the Shot

135

“Damn,” Todd muttered. “Parker hauled a judge away from dinner and put out a warrant. He’s only wanted on suspicion, though. Two choppers are looking. Teams are alerting people at LAX and Burbank and extra cars are moving. Three are headed to Van Nuys where he might be hooked up with a charter service.” “With four Uzis behind him,” Todd said, “LAX or Burbank don’t figure. They can’t shoot their way in. Van Nuys is not a commercial airport, but the same is true there. What is he planning, Carlos?” “That Beech Baron at Whitman?” “Possible,” he replied thoughtfully. “Was Whitman considered?” “Not that I heard. That might be a jurisdiction thing; Whitman is in San Fernando, not LA.” “Except for those Uzis, I’d bet on Burbank or Van Nuys.” “I’m with you.” “Have we got anything better to do?” he asked. “It could be fun. I’ll meet you there.”

◆

◆

◆

At the Whitman Airport, Todd located hangar , where the Beech Baron belonging to Horizon, Inc. was housed. The padlock was first rate. Without picks, there was no way to get inside without forcing it. And he didn’t have the tools to do that. Lisa stood beside him, trembling now, as he surveyed what might become a battlefield. He would never have chosen it, but Fletcher might force their hand. The only cover was occasional vehicles parked in front of the hangars, left by people who had flown off in their planes. The hangars were modular units, manufactured elsewhere, then assembled here. Each had been added to a row of T-shaped buildings interlocked with the narrow back end of a hangar tucked behind the wider front ends of those behind it. Each row was over three hundred feet long. There was over a hundred and twenty feet between rows. A no-man’s land,

136

Bob McElwain

virtually flat, covered with asphalt. No effective defensive position was available. He was still seeking what clearly was not here when Carlos pulled up and stopped beside them, then climbed out of the car. He glanced quickly about, then commented, “We could use a little cover.” “Yeah,” Todd said with a sigh. “What’s the plan,” Carlos asked, still examining the scene. “I was hoping you’d have one.” “If that second car shows, they’ll have the firepower.” Todd nodded. “A shootout won’t do.” “All I’ve got is my . and the shotgun in the trunk.” “If they’re coming, they’ll be on top of us real soon.” Carlos nodded. He wasn’t smiling. “You park up front,” Todd nodded at the first of the row of hangars. “Let Fletcher go on by. But if that second car shows, stop them.” “And shoot it out with four Uzis?” “I’ll distract them if I can.” “You can bury me in little pieces if you don’t,” Carlos said grimly. “And you?” “I don’t like the odds of facing three guys in the open. I’ll try to stop the plane some way. Then maybe I can deal with them separately.” “You are a hell of a planner, buddy,” Carlos said with a shake of his head. He glanced at the openness before him once more, then opened the trunk of his car. He took out his auto-load shotgun and three illegal twelve round clips. Moments later, he had the car moving toward the front of the row of hangars. “Let’s go,” Todd said to Lisa. She rushed for the passenger door as he climbed behind the wheel. He backed nearly to the end of the row of hangars, then pulled up and parked behind a large white flatbed truck. The hangar for the Beech Baron was some fift y feet beyond the truck. “What am I supposed to do?” Lisa asked anxiously. “Whatever happens, stay out of sight. Fletcher or any one of his men may try to take you if you’re spotted.”

Take the Shot

137

“What do you suggest?” she asked, a quaver in her voice that matched the tremble in her hands clutching the handbag. “Use the white truck in front of us for cover. If I’m right, they’ll get into the hangar and have that plane moving quickly. Just keep low for a few minutes, and you should be good.” “I’ve got the .,” she reminded him. “Keep it handy, but use it only if a guy is coming for you and he’s close. We don’t know how good these shooters are, but let’s assume they’re tops.” He continued watching the corner around which he was expecting Fletcher to pass on the way to the hangar. Adrenaline continued to pump him up. Sweat dripped off his ribs and down his chest. “He could be here any minute now. You best get out.” “I’d rather stay with you.” “I’m going to ram that plane with this car. I haven’t a clue to what havoc that may create. You’ll be safer here. If it goes badly, you can get back to the end of this row of hangars, and out of the airport from there.” “I don’t want to leave you.” “And I want you safe. Go.” He looked at her. “Now,” he said. When the door closed behind her, he backed up a few feet, so he could drive ahead with full power, only being required to steer around the truck. He left the engine idling and tucked his feet up on the front seat. He pulled out his cell phone and found his palms were slippery with sweat. He peered cautiously out the windshield with only one eye, hoping the car would appear to be empty if noted at all. As the minutes crawled slowly past, tension mounted. He was convinced they’d come here; Uzis would be of no help at a commercial airport. Still, his uncertainty continued to grow. He wasn’t concerned about the faint trembles throughout his body; he knew they’d disappear on his first move. When he saw the hood of the white Lincoln appear around the corner accompanied by the squeal of tires, he took a deep breath and quickly dialed.

138

Bob McElwain

“Lt. Parker.” “Fletcher’s here at Whitman,” he said quickly. “Are you certain?” “His car is coming at me, but I can’t see him from here.” A second car screamed around the corner. The shotgun exploded and the left front tire disintegrated. As the car slowed to a sudden halt, four men with Uzis moved quickly out of the driver’s side of the car, denying Carlos a target. “Carlos just blew a tire on the second car. He’s facing four Uzis. We could use some help, man.” “Damn it,” Parker said. “Is it Fletcher?” The Lincoln screeched to a halt just beyond the hangar. One man jumped out quickly. He had unlocked the padlock and was opening the hangar door, when Fletcher stepped out and turned to gaze at the car Carlos had stopped. “Yeah. It’s Fletcher.” As the man strode inside the hangar, Todd added, “He’s headed for the plane.” “Can you stop him?” Parker demanded. “I don’t know.” He disconnected as the third man with the suitcase rushed inside. The four men who faced Carlos continued to fan out and move back hoping to defeat the range of the shotgun. He slipped back behind the wheel, wiped his palms on his Chinos, then pulled the Smith and laid it in his lap. Firing from here might provide some distraction for Carlos, but he could also receive withering fire from the three inside the hangar. He heard one engine on the Beech Baron sputter to life, then smooth into an even roar. Then the second was started. Lisa, crouched in the cover of the double wheels at the rear of the flatbed truck, was watching him, her face pale. But the . was gripped tightly. As the plane nosed out of the hangar, he tossed her the thumb-up signal. He waited only to be sure all three men were on the plane, then he hit the accelerator hard, pulling out around the truck. As he passed the plane, the pilot opened the throttles. He knew he wasn’t driving a race car. With the twin engines roaring, he wondered how soon they would catch up to him. Not

Take the Shot

139

sure he had enough lead, he pulled close to the row of hangars, slowing rapidly behind a blue Ford pickup. Moving even more slowly now, he turned into the path of the plane. He took a guess at the speed needed, shoved the transmission into neutral, then dove from the car. He hit the asphalt hard, ripping the left sleeve of his jacket at the elbow. Blood flowed quickly. Ignoring the fiery explosion of pain from his arm, he dashed for the cover of the blue pickup. He watched over his shoulder as the pilot veered to avoid the slowly moving car. Could he get it done? If so, Fletcher would be free. Todd could have cheered when the spinning prop collided with the hood of the car. The blades quickly bent as the prop was forced like a giant corkscrew into the front of the car. Power from the plane’s other engine swung it around the axis that was the right engine buried in the car. The four gunman circling Carlos had turned to look at the crash. One of them dumped a burst just as Todd rushed into the gap between the pickup and the hangars. It was the break Carlos needed. “Drop those weapons,” he yelled. Todd tucked his head out for a look. All four were half turned to the wreckage of the plane or at the pickup behind which he crouched. Carlos had the shotgun up, centered on the group. The man to the right whirled back toward Carlos. The roar of the shotgun dwarfed that of the six-round burst from the Uzi. The man collapsed to the ground. “Anybody else got a hearing problem?” Carlos challenged. Confident Carlos now had control, Todd turned full attention to the plane. As the last of the three occupants leapt to the ground on the far side carrying the suitcase, he sighted quickly and squeezed off a round. He was rewarded with a scream of pain as the man grabbed his hip and tumbled to the ground. When Todd dashed around the tangle of car and plane, he saw Fletcher and another man running toward the Lincoln, now their only means of escape. He broke stride only long enough to kick the gun lying close to the man writhing on the ground.

140

Bob McElwain

He knew he wasn’t going to catch them. They were only fift y feet from the car. He dropped to his left knee, propped the Smith on his right, sighted carefully, and fired at the man beside Fletcher. Hit in the thigh, he crashed to the ground. But Fletcher was still running free. With even greater care, Todd sighted on Fletcher. Whatever the consequences, the man had to be stopped. He took a deep breath, then started to squeeze the trigger. Suddenly he was up and running, shoving hard on every step, as a cold cloud of dread descended. Fletcher had slid to a stop when Lisa had stepped out of the empty hangar, the . locked in her fist, up and ready. She approached him with short, determined steps. There was no waver in the pistol. She meant to kill him. Maybe she had all along. He pushed even harder, knowing in his gut there was nothing he could do to prevent it. When he abruptly began slowing, he realized he’d missed the first of what she’d said. “. . . want to stick this up your ass and pull the trigger,” she said with syrupy sweetness dripping off every word. “Or you can put your hands behind your neck.” Fletcher slowly laced his fingers behind his neck as Todd came to a stop ten feet from Lisa. He remained motionless. It was enough that she knew he was here. It was her show now. She took another step toward the man. “I’m disappointed,” she said sweetly. “Now on your knees, you bastard.” As Fletcher knelt, she took two further steps. Only inches separated them. The pistol was pointed at the bottom of the man’s nose. She smiled. It wasn’t pretty. “Now open those pearly whites, baby.” When he did, she tucked barrel of the pistol into his mouth, letting the trigger guard mash his lips against his teeth. Todd had been aware of Carlos rushing toward them. Now the man stopped abruptly, forty feet away. He remained totally still, seeking to subtract his presence from the scene.

Take the Shot

141

Lisa’s smile vanished. Her lips were a broad grim slash across her face. “Now suck it, you bastard,” she demanded harshly, her voice pitched low, a crudeness to it Todd had not heard before. “Just like you told me. Like it’s the greatest prick you’ve ever seen. Greater than any you’ve even dreamed of. Now it’s all yours.” She leaned on the pistol, mashing his lips harder against his teeth. “Suck the bullet right out of the cartridge under the hammer. Do it.” She jabbed with the pistol hard enough to shove Fletcher’s head back. “Now!” she cried. Afraid to speak, but knowing he must, Todd said gently, “Enough, okay? “I want to kill him. I must.” “I know. But don’t.” “Why not?” “You wouldn’t be you anymore. “Who would I be?” “A killer, mucking about in that same cesspool part of life he lives in.” She shook her head, her eyes overflowing with rage. Slowly he took two steps toward her. “Back off,” he murmured soft ly. “Please?” Slowly she pulled the barrel of the pistol from the man’s mouth. He reached for her shoulder and turned her aside. Carlos rushed up quickly, grabbed Fletcher’s left arm, pulled it down and tucked it into the circle he’d made of a plastic tie. “Madra mia,” he said, as he reached for the other arm “that was close, Mr. Fletcher. Bet she looks different with that . in her fist than when she was on the front seat of your car all nakedy while you reamed her.” Carlos yanked the tie tight, much tighter than was necessary. Todd could still see the raging hatred, the utter loathing in Lisa’s eyes. And he knew, but would never say, how close Fletcher had come to dying. He noted his own arms and hands were trembling, as he gently led her toward the hangar. “You best put the piece away, Lisa. Since you didn’t use it, no one will ask for it.” As a robot following instructions, she tucked the pistol back into her handbag. Then she gazed at it for some time.

142

Bob McElwain

When he glanced back at Fletcher, the man was staring at them. The eyes were oddly empty. No sign of anger. Or even of fear. The set to his features suggested only a touch of curiosity, but nothing more. He shivered. Two squad cars screeched to a halt. One was from San Fernando, the other from LAPD. “Great,” he muttered. “Let the debates begin.” “Right,” Carlos said, smiling broadly, “This will be fun.” Lisa did not seem to have heard either man’s comment. Slowly the LAPD car turned toward them, the driver giving the tangle of plane and car a wide berth. It came to a stop beside the Lincoln Fletcher had been driving. The driver got out and began examining the car. His partner strode toward them and asked, “Is this the guy?” His name tag read, “Officer Richards” “Yeah,” Todd replied. “Jeffery Fletcher.” Richards yanked Fletcher to his feet and started back toward the car. “There’s been a serious mistake here, Officer,” Fletcher said in a pleasant untroubled manner, a warm smile on his lips. Richards nodded. “We’ll get it all straight right quick, Mr. Fletcher.” Then he tipped the man’s head down and urged him into the back seat of the squad car. When Richards turned back toward them, Todd commented, “Cool move, buddy.” “Thanks,” Richards said, grinning broadly. “Now these SanFer guys can’t lose him.” As two more cars slid to a stop, one from each department, Richards said, “Here’s Parker. That will help.” Todd nodded. He tucked an arm around Lisa’s waist and urged her toward the nearest hangar. “It’ll take hours to sort out the jurisdiction,” he said. “Then we’ll get out of here.” He reached down and kissed her. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with questions he would never answer. He hugged her, then leaned back against the corrugated steel wall of the hangar. “Did you know you’re bleeding to death?” she asked, moving to stand in front of him.

Take the Shot

143

“Just scraped it good.” “Let me have your knife and take your jacket off,” she demanded. He dug out his Buck knife and handed it to her, then slipped out of his jacket. Lisa began cutting off the sleeve of his shirt. As she worked, he saw earlier thoughts fade from her eyes, replaced with those required for this task. He liked these thoughts much better.

Chapter 10 They had spent what remained of the night at the Shadow Inn. There had been little rest for Todd or Lisa. Emotions and tensions had run rampant. They’d made love, but it had been almost frenetic, as if it amounted only to a reaffirmation of life. When they got into the car at eight, Todd was glad to see Carlos had done fine in the sleep department. At this hour, with so little sleep, he was still having trouble keeping the eyelids open.

◆

◆

◆

It was after ten when Lt. Parker returned from the arraignment and stepped back into his office. “No bail,” he said. “So he can’t run.” Todd breathed a sigh of relief, noting both Lisa and Carlos had visibly relaxed. As Parker sat down, he said, “I think we got that only because he ran. By the time we get to court, it won’t be flight to avoid arrest, it will have been a planned business trip.” Parker’s mouth was a grim slash across his otherwise pleasant features. “What charge?” Todd asked. “The rape and murder of Tammy MacAlister,” Parker replied, scowling now. “But I wish he hadn’t pressed us by running.” “What do you mean?” Lisa asked in a rush.

144

Bob McElwain

“The case will be tried in front of a jury, Ms. Anders. Most would consider what we have ample evidence and return a guilty verdict. But the fact is, we can’t prove Fletcher killed Ms. MacAlister.” “We need Stallings,” Carlos commented. Parker nodded. “And as the Captain pointed out, some sort of link back to Fletcher, as in his attempt to kill Ms. Anders.” Lisa shivered. “All this has managed to terrify me yet again,” she said, speaking to the floor. “We have four weeks before the trial, Ms. Anders,” Parker said. “Stallings will be our top priority.” “Need any help?” Todd asked. “Unfortunately, no,” he said. “I’ve all the manpower needed, and I’m still not optimistic.” “But you will try, Lieutenant, won’t you?” Lisa asked. Parker nodded. “We’ll all be working this to the maximum. You can be sure of that.” When Todd stood, so did Lisa and Carlos. Parker looked up and said, “Stay in touch, okay?” “The cell phone will have to do.” When Parker nodded, they turned and left.

◆

◆

◆

When Carlos stopped in front of his home, Todd got out and helped Lisa slide across the seat and up to stand beside him. The front doorway was still covered with a sheet of plywood, but the broken windows had been replaced. Wes Fleximan was installing a new kitchen door as Todd approached with Lisa and Carlos trailing. “How’s it go?” he asked as Wes smiled, stood and offered his hand. “With me or the house?” he asked. “Both,” he replied. “Go ahead inside,” Todd said to Lisa and Carlos. “Let me see what Wes may need.” As they stepped past him, Wes said, “I’m good. And I like the way things are going here.” Todd nodded. “How’s the front door coming?”

Take the Shot

145

“Super,” Wes replied. “I found a great piece of walnut. I’ll be able to slip it in like tongue and groove. Should be as solid as the original. It’s at my place; I’ve better tools there.” Todd followed Wes through the house. The wallboard had been repaired and painted with primer. The blood had been cleaned from the carpet. Wes had repaired and refinished the bedroom door. Todd slipped out his checkbook. Moments later he handed Wes a check. “Hell, it won’t take this much,” Wes commented. Todd looked around once more. “I think we best get new carpets, some paint, and another couple of coats of lacquer on these cabinets,” he said, running his hand over a spot in a door Wes had repaired. “It might help cut down on bad memories.” “That’s probably the smart move,” Wes said, nodding in agreement. “What about colors?” “You choose. I’m no good at that stuff. Just keep all on the light side.” “I can handle that,” Wes said. As he reached for a Bud, Todd said, “I really appreciate the help, Wes.” “I’m glad to be able to do it.” He nodded his thanks again. As he started down the hall, he felt an odd tenseness. The last time he’d been here there had been two bodies lying at the end of it. It didn’t feel like home. He knew it would take some living time before it would, time for messy images to fade. On the patio, Lisa sat in a lounge chair sipping iced tea. Carlos was still nursing his Bud. Todd pulled a bench over and sat down close to both of them. “Our best bet is to get out of town,” he said to Lisa. “Does that sound okay?” She nodded. “I love your home, Todd. But it feels a little spooky right now.” “It’s better than waiting around somewhere for that bastard to try again,” Carlos added. “Anything you need me for?” “Want to open Sylmar Security? I’m ready, if you’re good.” Carlos leaned forward, eyes bright. “What do we need?”

146

Bob McElwain

“Rent those offices we looked at and start getting set up. Get with Lauren and make her happy. It’s going to take her marketing skills to make this work. And ask Ted Wellington how best to get some units we can use.” “We’ll need some bucks.” “Tell me where to send whatever and I’ll see to it.” Todd hastily wrote another check and handed it to Carlos. “This is a lot, man,” he commented. “Take what I owe you and put the rest toward expenses.” Carlos smiled broadly. He waved the check in the air, folded it carefully twice, then tucked it into his shirt pocket. “You’re going to start now?” Lisa asked. “That’s a quick change in plans, isn’t it?” “Looking for gold stars?” he asked with a smile. “If I’m entitled to them, then yes.” “Well you are. Lots of them. Along with my thanks. You got my thinking over onto the right track.” “I don’t believe this. I didn’t think you heard a word I said.” “Every one of them, but details later. Let’s get out of here.” “What’s the plan?” Carlos asked. “We’ll take the Trans Am. It will outrun most anything on the road. It’s off-season, so we’ll stick to the tourist sites where rooms are easy to find. We’ll take inland routes while heading north, then follow the coast back down. We’ll stay within a long day’s run back here, but otherwise keep moving. I’ll use cash so we should be lost to anyone looking.”

◆

◆

◆

The car was older now, a Pontiac Trans Am, the twenty-fifth anniversary model. Todd had bought it new, and it was still in near-showroom condition. He checked under the hood, then nursed the long-sleeping engine to life. It finally settled into the familiar, healthy, rumbling roar. Then he examined everything under the hood again. Finally he checked the tire pressure all around. He finished by giving the windows a thorough cleaning. After Carlos had checked nearby streets and found nothing unusual, Todd started the car again with Lisa in the passenger

Take the Shot

147

seat, then punched a button to trigger the electric door opener. As he drove down the drive, he punched the button again and the door closed. With Carlos behind them, he headed for the Foothill Freeway, oddly tense. When convinced no one had followed, Todd called Carlos on the radio. “We’re off. Stay in touch.” “Right.”

◆

◆

◆

When Todd turned south on the San Diego Freeway, Lisa looked at him sharply. “We need a quick stop at Montero’s shop. There’s fall in the air. A warm jacket and coat are in order. While it’s your call, shorts are sometimes more comfy in the car. Or jeans or slacks, maybe.” She nodded and sat up straighter in her seat. He smiled, remembering the consequences of her last shopping expedition. The plan was to keep her mind off the upcoming trial. It looked as if he was doing fine with this first step.

◆

◆

◆

When Lisa tucked the last of several bags into the back seat of the car, Todd was content. She was feeling better. He pulled away from the curb, took a right at the corner, and again headed south. “Now what?” she asked, clearly puzzled. “Just one more stop.”

◆

◆

◆

In the parking lot behind the Saddler Building on Ventura Boulevard, Todd killed the engine and said, “Let’s go.” Still puzzled, Lisa got out of the car and fell in step beside him. “What are we doing here?” she asked finally. “We need to get you a ring.” She stopped abruptly. When he turned, she was scowling at him, her fists tucked into her waist. “Was that a proposal?” “Something like that, I guess.”

148

Bob McElwain

“But that’s not how you’re supposed to do it.” She stepped up to him and straightened his jacket. “You should kiss me tenderly, hold me close and whisper sweet nothings in my ear.” She smiled. “And you must speak of undying love.” He kissed her briefly, bent to her ear and whispered, “We best get at this before I lose my nerve.” “You’re a . . . a barbarian,” she cried. “Want me to just pick one out?” “You are impossible.” He kissed her again, then turned and strode off. He smiled as she began running to catch up, then tucked her arm in his. “Utterly impossible,” she muttered, urging him with her arm to pick up the pace.

◆

◆

◆

They had to talk their way past three clerks before getting to Bernie Schulmann. After the extended preliminaries Bernie demanded of all, Todd said, “Lisa will be a great writer in about ten years. And probably wealthy ten years later. We need a ring she will enjoy now and then.” Bernie nodded solemnly, then led them into a small room that contained only a single glass-topped table surrounded by upholstered chairs. As Todd seated Lisa, he said to her, “Bernie will answer any question you ask. And he’s an expert, so you can count on what he says. But he will not speak of prices.” “Why not?” she demanded, as he sat down beside her. “It can spoil good judgement. Right, Bernie?” Bernie smiled and nodded. “I’ll only be a moment.” As she watched the slender, elegant man turn into what appeared to be an office, she said, “To steal one of your lines, I don’t think I’m ready for this.” He could see she was nervous. He decided that was good. “It’s like going for a swim in cold water. Just dive right in.” Bernie returned carrying a cloth covered case two feet long and a foot wide. He set it on the table in front of her and lifted the cloth back out of the way to display four rows of rings.

Take the Shot

149

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, her glance jumping from ring to ring. “We can’t afford this, Todd.” “Can you afford to accept less?” Bernie asked with a smile. “Just dive right in, Lisa,” Todd said.

◆

◆

◆

Two hours later, Todd helped Lisa into the car. She was dazed, excited, and a bit shaky. As far as he could tell, she had not taken her eyes off the ring once Bernie had slipped it onto her finger after sizing it. As he slid the key into the ignition, she asked, without looking up, “Why?” “Why the ring?” She only nodded, still gazing at it. “Isn’t that what a fellow gives the girl he wants to marry?” “I didn’t know you were even thinking about me in this way. I know you don’t like the idea of being fourth on the priority list.” “I liked those circles you drew in the sand.” “But you ignored me completely.” “I never do that. And your ‘you-me-us’ bit is good.” “You’re impossible, did you know that?” “You may be right,” he said, as he started the car and drove out of the lot, more content than he had been in recent memory. “Okay,” he said, as he turned back onto the Ventura Freeway, eastbound. “Have you got a place in mind? Or do you want me to do the navigating?” Without looking up from the ring, she said, “I don’t believe in long engagements. What about you?” “I’ve never thought about it.” Now she looked up. “Can we go to Las Vegas first?” “Are you sure?” She nodded. “But I’m not sure what you want.” “I am,” he said with a smile. “We’ll go to Vegas.” She lunged at him and tossed both arms around his neck, ignoring the hindrance and discomfort of the bucket seats. She covered his neck and ears with delicious, tiny kisses.

150

Bob McElwain

“We won’t make it,” he said, “unless you get back to your side so I can drive this machine.”

◆

◆

◆

They didn’t see much of Las Vegas. It was late when they arrived. They needed only a room and rest after a long, tiring day. In the morning, she navigated a course that led to a marriage license, and on to a brief ceremony in front of a Justice of the Peace. Then she led him back to their room and orchestrated a celebration she had rehearsed while driving the day before. Both agreed they didn’t feel different because they were married. But he knew Lisa did. He was still trying to figure what it meant to him. But he was content. Thoughts of LA and Fletcher, even of Stallings, had been left far behind. They crossed the Sierra Nevadas by driving up Tioga Pass. They spent a pleasant day in the high meadows of Yosemite National Park and on the floor of the valley. Since no room was available, they left in the late afternoon and drove down Highway  until they found a place. Wanting to avoid the crowded Bay area entirely, they crossed the valley, then drove over Pacheco Pass and spent the night near Moss Landing. At Moro Bay, as they walked arm in arm barefoot in the surf, Lisa said, “This has been a twilight time for me. I’ve never felt so wonderfully free.” “I don’t see any fear or pressure about testifying,” he commented. “It’s there,” she said sharply. “But I’ll manage. If I falter, I only need to think of that animal.” “I saw the hate in your eyes when you had that pistol tucked into his mouth.” “I did want to kill him. I wanted revenge. A part of me still does.” “Revenge can be strong motivation.” “He may feel the same way. Even after he is locked up, he may send someone to kill me. He certainly has the money. I guess I’ll never really be free of this.”

Take the Shot

151

“It may not come to that,” he said. “Let’s see how things work out.” They walked on for a time, toying with the water licking at their feet. “I think,” he said, “along side that hate, I saw something else.” “That I also hate myself?” He nodded. “You’ve paid one hell of a price for a small mistake you made nine years ago. But now it’s like you’re being blackmailed. If you can’t toss that notion, you’ll continue to pay more every time the thought comes up.” She sighed. “I know. And I know I’m not being fair to myself.” “Try this maybe,” he said. “When you’ve testified, wrap the whole thing in a package, mark it ‘Paid in Full,’ then chuck it.” “Good. I’m going to do exactly that,” she said, nodding agreement.

◆

◆

◆

At the Ventura County line, Todd said to Carlos over the cell phone, “See you tomorrow.” Then he disconnected. The call needed no explaining to Lisa. They would meet with the Assistant District Attorney who wanted to review what she would say. The trial would start the following day. Parker would make sure she was surrounded by armed men until she testified. But Todd was counting on Carlos. “Are you ready for this?” he asked. “Yes,” she said grimly.

◆

◆

◆

Lawrence Natali, the Assistant District Attorney who was prosecuting the case, asked Lisa, “How old were you when you were raped?” “Seventeen,” she said evenly. “It was my birthday.” Todd was seated in the back row of the courtroom with Carlos and Amy Barret, Lisa’s friend from the newspaper office. He had yet to

152

Bob McElwain

detect any fear or nervousness in her manner or voice. She seemed to be in complete control of her feelings and emotions. “Is the man who raped you in this courtroom?” Natali asked. “Yes. The defendant.” As she spoke, she pointed at Fletcher. “Let the record show that Ms. Anders is pointing to Mr. Jeffery Fletcher.” “So ordered,” the judge said. Natali turned back to Lisa and said, “In your own words, will you please tell the jury exactly what happened?” As she began speaking of her coming first date ever, and about Jason, a popular student at the high school, Todd squirmed uncomfortably. He didn’t really want to hear this another time. But he was unwilling to risk weakening her resolve by stepping out of the courtroom. Working hard at letting the words slip by unnoticed, he examined others in the courtroom as possible. Many were leaning forward intently, as if anxious not to miss a word, and perhaps to fill in some gaps, real or imagined, in their own fanciful way. The members of the jury were also listening intently. Todd had seen a lot of juries, enough to know he was unable to correctly judge their reaction to what was being said. Mentally he crossed both fingers and toes. They seemed to believe what she was saying; he could only hope it was so. Mrs. Roberta Harrison Fletcher sat in the first row, directly behind her husband, a poised elegant woman, dressed modestly to suit the occasion. From what he had glimpsed, she held a concerned, serious expression on her face that did not change. While not rigid in her seat, she sat quietly, giving no hint of restlessness or any clue to her own emotional reactions. He thought the impression she presented was appropriate. Maybe even exceptional, in that her husband was guilty of at least infidelity with Tammy. He hadn’t been married when he’d attacked Lisa. Fletcher sat completely still at the defense table. Todd had watched the man with care during the tedious three days it took to select a jury. Throughout, he held a serious, attentive expression that hid his real thoughts completely.

Take the Shot

153

Lisa had just finished describing how she had regained consciousness facing Fletcher’s erect penis, and how she had been forced by the strength of the grip on her neck to lick and suck it. “When he slowed and stopped,” she said, still speaking evenly, completely in control, “he turned off the ignition. He grabbed me by the shoulders, flipped me over and tossed me across the seat. My head hit the door hard and it dizzied me. I remember fainting momentarily, as he ripped open my dress, buttons flying everywhere. “He took out a small pen knife and sliced my slip open. Next he used it to cut my bra and panties free. Then he forced his penis into my vagina. At that point I fainted. “When I came to I began screaming. He laughed at that and continued moving in and out forcefully and rapidly. “I don’t remember him withdrawing from my vagina. The next thing I was aware of he was sitting on my chest. He forced me to lick and suck his penis until it was again erect. Then he shoved it down my throat. I gagged, and for a time, thought I would choke to death. “By the time that was over, I was so beaten down by the pain and all, it wasn’t difficult for him to get me to lick and suck him to another erection. Again I fainted as he forced himself into my vagina. When I came to all of me hurt as he continued pounding in and out.” Todd wanted to reach up and cover his ears, but he knew that wouldn’t help. The jury seemed no more or less involved, but many in the audience were clinging to every word. When she finished, she was clearly drained. The stress of sharing the story in public marred her features. As she had begun explaining what happened, Natali had moved back to the prosecutor’s table and sat down, wanting nothing to detract from her or what she was saying. Now he shuffled papers on the table in front of him, letting the impact of what she’d said linger in the growing silence. Finally the judge asked impatiently, “Do you have further testimony for this witness to present?”

154

Bob McElwain

“Yes, your Honor,” Natali said, standing and slowly walking toward the witness stand. “You’ve used the word force several times, Ms. Anders. Can you tell us what kind of force was used, beyond that of the man’s penis?” “Apart from his using one hand on my neck to position my mouth were he wanted it, he used only open handed slaps,” Lisa said evenly. “But he’s a powerful man. There were times I was only partly conscious. He used his fist only once, when I thought he was taking me home. That knocked me unconscious.” Natali walked back to the table, as if having forgotten his next question. Standing beside it, he asked, “Was the defendant armed?” “Yes, but I didn’t know it until he began searching for me on the hillside. The moon offered enough light to make it clear the pistol he was carrying was a revolver, rather than an autoload.” “Do you know what caliber it was?” “I didn’t then, but I do now. It was a ..” “How can you be so sure?” “I own a Smith & Wesson . revolver.” Natali paused to let that sink in, then said, “Thank you, Ms. Anders. That will be all.” “Your witness, Mr. Bonsville,” the judge said sharply, as if wanting to move things along. Thatcher Bonsville was considered by many to be the best defense attorney in the land. The two men beside him were also outstanding, but neither could work a jury as Bonsville could. As the man stood slowly, Todd felt tension across his shoulders. Bonsville smiled at the jury, then said quietly, “The Defense has no questions for this witness, your Honor.” As he sat back down, a buzz of sighs and comments arose from the spectators. The judge rapped with his gavel, and all sounds ceased. Todd was watching the jury even though he knew it was wasted effort. They all seemed to be focused on Bonsville, as if wanting to know what secrets he had not revealed. “The witness is excused,” the judge said. Lisa waited for a nod from Natali, then stepped down and

Take the Shot

155

turned up the aisle. Many of the jurors watched her, some with a measure of puzzlement in their features. When she sat down between he and Amy, he gripped her hand firmly and said, “No one could have done better.” When the judge adjourned for lunch, all four huddled in the hall outside the courtroom. “You’ve done what you can, Lisa,” Todd said. “Let’s get out of here. You don’t need any of this.” “I can’t,” she said. “I must see this through.” He sighed, but he couldn’t think of anything more to say. “Besides,” she said, “Isn’t the rest only formality?” “Not until the jury says, ‘Guilty’,” he replied.

◆

◆

◆

Carlos strode outside and to his car parked a block down the street. When he returned, his . was again tucked away under his jacket. He handed Todd his Smith and Lisa her . when they stepped outside. Both tucked their weapons away quickly. This routine was repeated upon each exit and reversed on each entry, for no one was allowed to bring a weapon into the courthouse. Since Lisa had completed her testimony, Parker’s men would provide no further cover. Lunch was a hasty affair of waiting in line and being encouraged to leave quickly. Lisa and Amy chatted about the happenings, as they worked up a piece for tomorrow’s paper. It would carry both her name and that of Lisa. Amy again demanded Lisa let her examine the ring, then they chatted excitedly. Amy tossed good smiles at Todd, probably more often than Lisa approved of. He and Carlos were content to listen.

◆

◆

◆

The afternoon was devoted to connecting the evidence collected in Redlands to this case. Natali presented the statement of the truck driver who had discovered her on the highway and asked that it be entered as evidence. Bonsville offered no objection.

156

Bob McElwain

Natali presented statements made by the witnesses who saw Fletcher with Lisa. He offered hospital records of her three day stay, including those about repairs required to the entrance to her vagina and the fractured jaw. Even to the all important DNA statement, Bonsville had no objection. In fact he was able to give the impression these matters were of no importance at all.

◆

◆

◆

While Lisa and Amy added final notes for their article for the morning paper, Todd sat with Carlos at the bar. Both watched all who approached the women. Todd slipped out the cell phone and dialed. “Lt. Parker.” “Still no sign of Clyde Stallings, right?” “None. It’s as if he’s left the planet. My people have been all over Horizon, Inc. Further, we’ve contacted officers in other cities who have worked a case involving him. The man’s a killer, highly paid, but nobody is going to prove it.” “What about your friend with the IRS? Have they got anything?” “No, but they’re interested. It seems Fletcher began his career as a stockbroker in New York. Now he controls several hundred billion dollars worth of assets on behalf of others, and he’s personally worth over two hundred million. That he’s accumulated this legitimately in so short a time is unlikely.” “I don’t like the feel of this,” he commented. “I don’t either,” Parker said, then disconnected. When Amy rushed off, Todd and Carlos joined Lisa for dinner. When the waiter left with their order, she said, “Mr. Natali seems to be making the case in great detail. I don’t think he has missed a point.” “He’s good,” Todd commented with a nod. “It bothers me, though,” she said, “that Mr. Bonsville is accepting all the evidence presented without cross examination.” “It bothers me too.” “I wonder if it means anything.” “Can’t say.”

Take the Shot

◆

◆

157

◆

The following morning, Natali presented the first witness who could place Fletcher in Castileon’s Grocery with Tammy MacAlister. He worked through a prepared set of questions which put the best light upon what was said. And he bypassed anything the prosecution might turn to their advantage. When Natali thanked the witness and said, “That will be all,” the judge said, “Your witness, Mr. Bonsville.” Thatcher Bonsville consulted briefly with the two attorneys beside him, reviewing notes they had made. Upon nods of approval from them, he stood and asked, “In so far as you could tell, was there any suggestion upon the part of Ms. MacAlister that Mr. Fletcher’s attentions were unwelcome?” When the witness replied that Tammy seemed quite interested in the man, Bonsville said quietly, “The Defense has no further questions for this witness, your Honor.” As the judge dismissed the witness, Todd looked at Carlos. The big man shook his head slightly. And he knew he wasn’t the only person puzzled by what appeared to be a failing upon the part of the defense. The jurors seemed more surprised than puzzled. Todd was convinced something was going wrong, but he didn’t have a clue as to what it might be. Even with the two most critical witnesses, the one who saw Fletcher talking with Tammy on the street and the other who saw the young woman get into the car as Fletcher tucked her groceries into the back seat, Bonsville held a similar conference, then rose to ask the same question. While answers varied, each felt Tammy had been interested in Fletcher, although no one suggested she was throwing herself at him or flaunting herself in any way. On each occasion, Todd glanced at Carlos. But the big man again only shook his head. The man wasn’t smiling. As he turned to the presentation of the DNA evidence, Natali asked each witness even more sharply pointed questions. They

158

Bob McElwain

made it clear that evidence from Redlands was hand-carried to the local laboratory, that the DNA match was perfect. After each witness was released by Natali, Bonsville, smiling each time, pointed out he had no questions, then sat down. At three-thirty, Natali rested the prosecution’s case. Court was adjourned for the day.

◆

◆

◆

When Jeffery Fletcher took the stand the next morning, he was the essence of success. From the light tan Armani suit to the dark brown Gucci shoes. His white silk shirt had been tailored. The cuffs extended just far enough from the coat sleeves to allow room for the delicate gold cuff links upon which two-carat diamonds were mounted. The Rolex was an unnecessary reminder of the man’s wealth and power. His longish hair was coal black, exquisitely groomed by a professional hairdresser. Charm oozed from every pore of the man. The eyes were open and friendly and curious. It was easy to sense his warm smile was directed specifically, when in fact there was no focus at all. As he answered Bonsville’s first question, the sincerity projected made Todd squirm uncomfortably in his seat. Lisa tried to shrink in hers, unable to look at anything in the room except this man. He spoke in a low register baritone that exuded power and engendered confidence. As Bonsville led him careful though a script Todd was certain had been well rehearsed, the man seemed to speak extemporaneously, in the same easy manner in which he might discuss world events at a cocktail party. All pointed to the absurdity that he had been charged with a crime, and to the even greater absurdity that he might be guilty of one. He openly admitted to having had sex with both young women, and did so with such a wholesome chagrin that any who might fault him for such indulgence, would forgive him now. Todd cringed at this. He stared at the jury intently. If they

Take the Shot

159

bought this view, Fletcher would go free. He took a deep breath, then focused again on what was being said. Fletcher admitted that Lisa had run off, that he’d tried to find her, but apologetically he pointed out he was not skilled in the ways of the woods. He had left Tammy with her groceries at the door to the home she had pointed out. When Bonsville said he had no further questions, Natali stepped forward and began demonstrating why he was a power in the District Attorney’s office. While not as well dressed as Fletcher, he showed his own quiet charm. Few in the room saw the conflict between them; it was as if two deadly cobras faced each other within striking distance. Natali was equally polite, poised, and articulate. “Did you know these young women were underage?” he asked at one point. “No, I did not. The question never came up,” Fletcher replied, as if admitting it should have, and taking full blame that it had not. When the court recessed for lunch, Todd couldn’t say which man had won ground during the tedious round of questioning. When court reopened, Natali began by asking, “You stated your involvement with Ms. Anders was not rape, that it was sex, equally acceptable to her as it was to you. Is that correct?” “Yes. We were both very excited,” Fletcher replied, smiling as if remembering something quite wonderful to him. “How do you explain the need for surgical repair to the entrance to her vagina?” “I’ve been wondering about that, since it came up.” Fletcher leaned forward, his forehead furrowed in a frown. “It never occurred to me Ms. Anders was a virgin, but I did discover she was not as sexually experienced as I had thought her to be. “To have hurt her, was certainly not my objective. Quite the contrary, she seemed to enjoy it all immensely. Her excitement throughout added to my own. “I can only suggest that I am often very aggressive sexually, especially when excited. That’s the only explanation I can offer.” Fletcher leaned back in the chair as if he had explained all.

160

Bob McElwain

There was more. Todd found it difficult to keep up with Natali’s shifting thrusts and changes of direction. The way in which Lisa clung to his arm suggested she was memorizing every word uttered.

◆

◆

◆

In the morning, Natali summed up for the prosecution. Todd was cheered by the man’s professionalism; the case had not been assigned to a loser. Still, he was troubled. Fletcher had sidestepped most of the evidence by “admitting” he had been involved sexually with both young women. He studied each member of the jury, seeking a clue to how Natali’s presentation was being accepted. In the end, however, he couldn’t say how they felt about it. After lunch, it was Bonsville’s turn. “We have a most unusual situation in this case,” he said, seemingly holding eye contact with each member of the jury simultaneously. “Mr. Fletcher controls over six hundred billion dollars of assets on behalf of others through his company, Horizon, Inc. He has a personal fortune in excess of three hundred million dollars. And he is married to one of the most beautiful and wealthy women in this fine city. “Yet this man stands before you this day accused of the rape and murder of Ms. Tammy MacAlister. Why would a man in Mr. Fletcher’s position do such a thing? “Only one who is insane would do so. Yet Mr. Fletcher’s enormous success suggests quite the contrary, that he is perfectly sane. And I must point out the prosecution has not made any claim to the contrary.” Bonsville paused, strode back to the Defense’s table and leaned against it. “What would a young woman of seventeen say to her parents and others, if she had become sexual involved with an older man and this was discovered? We can’t know such things. But one seemingly easy out would be to cry rape. This may have happened in the case of Ms. Anders. If so, she has come to

Take the Shot

161

believe her story. Certainly she presents it in a credible manner. But is it true? “Mr. Fletcher freely admits having had sex with both Ms. Anders and Ms. MacAlister. In seeking an occasional casual affair with a young woman, he may be guilty of poor judgement. But this does not imply he is a rapist. Or a killer. “Mr. Fletcher admits that Ms. Anders fled from his car. He tried to locate her. But since he didn’t even know her full name, there was no one to report to. He could only hope she made her way safely home. “He left Ms. MacAlister on the porch to the home to which she asked him to drive. With her groceries, I might add. “As has been pointed out, the situation with Ms. Anders suggests only sexual involvement. She was not murdered, as was Ms. MacAlister. “Someone else attacked Ms. MacAlister, then killed her, after Mr. Fletcher dropped her off. If she was indeed raped, the killer used a condom in order to avoid leaving any DNA evidence behind. And that killer most likely was an acquaintance or even a family member, as is customarily the case. “It is instructive to review the prosecution’s case with these thoughts in mind.” Bonsville proceeded to do so in great detail, recasting all with Fletcher as a man who enjoyed casual sex occasionally with a willing young woman. He pointed out repeatedly there was no crime in such actions. “As for the charge of murder,” Bonsville continued, “I fail to understand why it was made. Nothing in the evidence presented even suggests Mr. Fletcher was in any way responsible for the unfortunate death of Tammy MacAlister.” Bonsville again reviewed the prosecution’s case with more than a hint of mockery in every word. He reminded the jury repeatedly of their responsibility to be certain on all points “beyond reasonable doubt.” In an odd way Todd could not explain, the man seemed to be saying only, “beyond doubt.” “Reasonable” simply wasn’t there when he used these three words. When the judge began to instruct the jury, Todd turned to Lisa and murmured, “I’ve had enough. I’ll be in the hall.”

162

Bob McElwain

Lisa also stood, as did Carlos and Amy. At the entrance to the courtroom, Lisa said so only Todd could hear, “I should have killed him when I had the chance.” He wanted to contradict her decisively. Instead he gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

◆

◆

◆

Waiting on the jury kept Lisa on edge and off balance. She became more anxious with each passing day. Todd tried to keep her mind on other things, but visiting city landmarks didn’t seem to help. Nor did a trip to the new offices of Sylmar Security. Each day, she asked, “What’s it mean when it takes a jury this much time?” And each day, he replied, “There’s no way to know. It may be eleven to one for guilty or the other way around.” Dinner at Ports of Call in San Pedro cheered her some, and a walk around the pier in the coolness of early evening. But through it all, Carlos in the background was a grim reminder the matter was not yet resolved.

◆

◆

◆

On the tenth day, it was reported the jury had reached a verdict, to be announced the following morning. Todd, Lisa, and Carlos arrived early and took seats in the back row of the courtroom. Lt. Parker joined them; he’d been tracking the trial through Natali. Crowds of spectators had vanished. But sleepy reporters abounded and the hallways flowed with the usual courthouse traffic. As the jury filed in, Todd asked Parker, “Can you tell?” “Never could,” he murmured, shaking his head. When the judge asked for the verdict, the jury foreman rose and said, “We find the defendant not guilty.” Reporters risked life and limb in their headlong dash through the courtroom entrance to space in which cell phones could be used. Rather than seeking to restore order, the judge said to

Take the Shot

163

those few listening, “The defendant is released from custody. Court is adjourned.” Lisa sat unmoving, silent tears streaking her lovely face. As Todd urged her to her feet, Parker said, “Come with me. We’ve two new players in this game.” They followed him out into the hallway to where the man stopped well clear of the entrance to the courtroom. They bent to listen as he said, “Jessica Van Housen was married and three months pregnant when attacked. Fletcher will be arrested when he leaves the courtroom. In addition to what we had, they have his fingerprints on the cartridge cases.” Todd glanced toward the entrance to the courtroom. The two men leaning against the wall just beyond the entrance caught his attention immediately. Each had a weapon in a shoulder rig. There was only one explanation as to why they’d been allowed to enter with a pistol. “Why feds?” Todd asked, studying the two. He noticed Carlos was doing the same. “I don’t know,” Parker said. “Her father is Senator Maybury. He has the clout to bring in the FBI. But she lived in DC and her body was found in Virginia. So it may be only a jurisdictional matter.” He turned a bit and put his back to the wall. “Watch,” he said, his features grim. Fletcher was mobbed by reporters as he stepped free of the courtroom. His attorneys created a path through the sea of microphones, ready to capture whatever was said. An array of television cameras virtually surrounded the entrance. As the two agents moved away from the wall, Carlos snapped his fingers. Todd turned quickly toward him. He nodded urgently in the direction of the agents. Then he began moving toward the other side of the hallway. Todd had been so intent on the federal agents, he had not looked further. Just a few feet beyond them, with his black hair hidden under a spray of party gray, Clyde Stallings was closing. Light bounced off the thick lenses of his spectacles. He was carrying a large tan pigskin case. What in hell was he doing here, Todd demanded harshly of himself. Then he knew. Stallings had been prepared to break

164

Bob McElwain

Fletcher out had the verdict been guilty. He was in front of the courtroom now, only because Fletcher had been released. But he was in an excellent position to prevent the FBI from arresting him. For an instant, the urge to charge and take the man out was overwhelming. But he knew he couldn’t reach him quickly enough in the crowded hallway. And he didn’t have a weapon. He felt oddly naked, exposed. Stallings would recognize him given any move at all. He tapped Parker on the arm, then nodded as Carlos had done. Parker picked up the man in a glance, turned away, then said, “Your phone.” When Todd handed it to him, he put his back to the hectic scene and began speaking into it moments later. “Clyde Stallings is inside. We want him on two counts of murder. Get some people in here with weapons. He’s carrying a case that’s too big for papers. Assume he’s armed.” Parker listened briefly. “He probably set up to break Fletcher lose on a guilty verdict. But he can use the same plan when the warrant is served.” Again he listened. “Maybe he got in through an upper story window. Or down the elevator shaft. Work that out later. Just get in here. Now.” When the two FBI agents stepped in front of Fletcher, blocking his path, Todd could only guess what was said. But Stallings instantly snapped open the buckskin case and pulled an Uzi free. Two additional taped pairs of twenty-five round clips dangled from the stock of the deadly little machine gun. A woman screamed. Those who saw the weapon rushed away from it. In the ensuing panic, Stallings moved up beside Fletcher, the Uzi pointed midway between the two federal agents. They’d been reaching for their Berettas, but now eased them out and offered them to Fletcher. The man gripped one firmly, dropped the other to the marble floor, then kicked it away toward the other side of the hall. With a fi x on the pistol lying on the floor, Todd eased a bit further back toward the entrance to the courtroom, seeking to

Take the Shot

165

minimize tension and trembles that might be noticed. He wiped already sweaty palms on his Chinos. He had to have that pistol in his fist. He’d have to risk diving for it. He continued inching his way along the wall until directly in line with the weapon. Peripherally, he noted Carlos was moving in the other direction, ever so slowly. How did the Beretta differ from his Smith? A bit heavier. A bit larger in the grip. An extra round in the clip. But virtually identical in function. Satisfied he had this right, he focused all on the weapon lying fifteen feet away. A six round burst from the Uzi ripped through the air toward the west entrance, then another toward the east. “Everybody down,” Stallings yelled. Everyone quickly moved to obey. Todd also dropped, but so close to the wall his legs were bent at the knees. He slowly adjusted his position for a lunge toward the pistol. While Carlos didn’t have a target, Todd noticed the man also had his knees bent and his feet against the wall, positioned for a quick move, if an opportunity became available. Fletcher began backing down the hall toward the west entrance, watching all in front of him. Stallings faced the entrance, the deadly Uzi ready. Todd kept his face to the floor as Fletcher and Stallings moved past. He noted Lisa lying beside Parker was doing the same. Maybe it was the hair that caught Fletcher’s attention. Whatever, he lunged, grabbed Lisa by the arm, and lifted her. Parker leapt at Stallings, but the pistol slammed into the side of his face and Parker collapsed to the floor. Todd watched in horror as Fletcher gripped Lisa tightly about her throat with his left arm, his Beretta steady in his right fist. Suddenly the pistol on the floor was everything. Lisa would die when Fletcher had no further use for her, unless he could be stopped. Lisa tossed Todd a beseeching look, one underlined with near-total despair. He nodded toward the pistol lying fifteen feet away. He saw her glance in that direction, but he wasn’t sure she had seen it.

166

Bob McElwain

Suddenly she was struggling. She couldn’t hope to be effective against Fletcher’s strength. Maybe she had seen the pistol after all, and had glimpsed something of what he intended to do. Whatever, her move had created a distraction of sorts. Todd lunged from the wall into a half-crouch, then dove for the pistol. He had scooped it from the floor and turned his shoulders to the wall when Fletcher fired. A volcano of whitehot flame erupted in his left ribs as his momentum carried him into the wall. When Stallings whirled to see what might be needed, Carlos lunged well out away from the wall, then leapt at Stallings’ back. He landed high, driving the man forward and down, as a sixround burst was loosed from the Uzi into the floor. As Stallings collapsed, Carlos lifted his massive right arm, then slammed it into the back of the man’s head, driving it more swiftly into the marble floor. When it connected, blood erupted from the ears. The man was dead, or would be within minutes. Todd’s view of the scene was badly blurred. But he was able to see Fletcher aim the Beretta at Carlos. Fletcher had two heads in his view. He couldn’t risk a shot. He couldn’t. But Carlos desperately needed help. Right now. He’d die within seconds without it. With shivers of fear racing down his back, he fired hastily at the left edge of the left-most head. Fletcher yanked the pistol back and shoved the barrel into Lisa’s temple. But it was the break Carlos needed; he scooped up the Uzi and scrambled back to the wall, further down the hall. With every ounce of strength, Todd lunged up to one knee, planting his right foot. He propped his right fist on his knee, then grit his teeth against hurt as he lifted his left hand to grip the pistol in front of the trigger guard. He nearly fainted from the effort until long deep breaths erased that risk. But they did not ease the blinding, searing pain. He could feel the blood flowing down his left leg, moving under the belt as if it wasn’t there. It was pooling where he knelt with his left knee on the hard marble floor.

Take the Shot

167

“Drop the weapon, Fletcher,” Todd demanded, his voice sounding scratchy and uneven to him. He was still seeing two overlapping images of the man’s head, each with the top of Lisa’s head covering his nose. Fletcher looked back and forth between Carlos and Todd, as if seeking a weak spot at which to attack. Desperately seeking control of his body, seemingly gone mad, Todd sought to embrace the raging agony that was his left side. He struggled to divert all possible energy into his right arm, his right fist, and his finger on the trigger. Hope surged as his vision began to clear, when the two images became only one, even though fuzzed out around the edges. Sweat from his brow leaked into his eyes, causing him to blink rapidly. But bit by bit, he brought the pistol in line with Fletcher’s left eye. “Give yourself a chance,” Todd said to Fletcher, sounding a bit more like himself. “You can buy better lawyers. Even the judge. Or go further and buy the jurors themselves. But there are no options if you’re dead.” Satisfied he had the weapon sighted correctly, he began squeezing the trigger ever so slowly. If Todd could prevent Fletcher from seeing his finger pulling the trigger, the bullet would strike before the man had time to react and pull the trigger on his own weapon. A round from the Beretta traveled more than a thousand feet a second. And Fletcher wasn’t twenty feet away. But this had been true the last time he had faced this situation. And the hostage had died. Oh God, he cried to himself. This is no stranger. This is Lisa! Could it go wrong? “I can kill this bitch just like that,” Fletcher said easily, his eyes expressionless. “Then I’ll kill you,” Todd said evenly, doing all possible to erase his fears and trembles from the words. “Or I will,” Carlos said, his rumbling bass filling the silent hallway. Automatic gunfire erupted just outside the west entrance to the building. Then two men burst inside. Each wore body armor and a ski mask; each carried an Uzi. Carlos sighted quickly,

168

Bob McElwain

then fired three-round bursts at the heads of each man in turn until both were down. In another world, the one outside this hallway, a small war had begun. Todd continued squeezing slightly as he said, “Looks like your little army is getting chopped up pretty good. Your best bet is to drop the weapon. Give yourself a chance.” “I’ll kill her,” Fletcher said grimly. “There are eight or nine rounds left in this clip,” Carlos said grimly. “I’ll be happy to let you eat them all.” Todd continued squeezing. Lisa fainted. Or was she faking it? Todd couldn’t be sure. But Fletcher had to shift his grip to lift her back up; he needed the cover. Her eyes suddenly wide open, Lisa cried soft ly, “Shoot.” What the hell does she mean? Todd couldn’t say, even though he asked the question of himself again. Fletcher was clearly puzzled. “Now,” Lisa snapped, lunging up, and toward the pistol. Since Fletcher had been lifting, Lisa did get elevation. But in moving toward the pistol, the man’s strength largely defeated her. Still, the muzzle of the pistol had been driven off her temple and forced forward. Was it enough? Oh, God, was it enough? Todd squeezed through. The Beretta fired. Its bark pounded into the stillness of the marble hall. Fletcher’s left eye disappeared. Limping and stumbling badly, he staggered toward the body crumpling to the floor as if the bones had suddenly melted. Lisa was dragged down by the dead arm. He shoved the Beretta behind his belt and stripped the pistol from the dead hand. Parker was up on one knee. Todd tossed the pistol and watched the man deft ly scoop it out of the air. He tossed the dead arm off of Lisa, gripped her left upper arm with his right hand, and helped her stand. Still holding her arm, he moved four steps back from the crumpled body, his left arm dangling useless at his side. She lunged at him, threw her arms around his neck, and pulled herself to him, avoiding his left side. “You’re free,” he murmured into her ear.

Take the Shot

169

She tightened her grip and pulled herself even closer. The growing wetness of his shirt assured she was crying silently. It was suddenly easier in some mystical way to ignore the fire in his ribs and to gently rub her back with his good hand, seeking to erase the trembles. Even the blood pooling on the floor mattered only as something to be dealt with later.

◆

◆

◆