“Yeah.” Although the answer already seemed obvious.
EIGHTEEN
Casey was trying to read the article about the dog walker who’d been stabbed when Dimitri Klitou slammed the brakes for the third time. Dimitri had always been on the intense side, but his jumpy reactions to traffic were bordering on erratic. As they pulled out of MPT’s yard, he’d complained loudly about having to drive near the hot zone. She could almost hear him thinking that the presence of a female security guard wouldn’t make him any safer. Was Dimitri the firebug? Had his anger evolved into a destructive mission to destroy the company?
“Your driver seems kind of pissed,” Del said from the seat behind her.
“Just tired and overworked,” Casey answered.
The MPT Friends had boarded shortly after the bus left the yard tonight. Having warned the kids not to ride Coquitlam routes, Casey wasn’t happy to see them. On the other hand, it did present an opportunity to ask Felicity a question.
“So, have any of you been talking to the news media?” Casey asked, keeping her tone casual.
Felicity glanced at Del and Lawrence, who was suddenly busy adjusting his Nikon.
“Why do you ask?” she replied, making a point of looking out the window.
Yep. The girl knew something. “I saw a reference to the Blade Man on the news.” She stared at the squirming Felicity. “You’re the one who came up with the name. Who else did you tell?”
Felicity’s porcelain face turned crimson. Lawrence kept his attention on his camera, while Del’s serious gaze appeared to be studying Casey.
“I didn’t contact them,” Felicity blurted. “A journalist found our Facebook page, which is public, and read that we were there the night Mr. Lee was stabbed, so she messaged me.”
“Our private group’s separate and stays private,” Del added.
Casey sure as hell hoped so.
Felicity shifted in her seat and turned her attention to Dimitri. “That cut on the driver’s forehead still looks gross.”
Okay, so the girl wanted to deflect the discussion. Maybe it didn’t matter. There were bigger issues to focus on, like how best to protect MPT drivers. Dimitri’s wound was a glaring reminder of how quickly things could go wrong. Casey had no idea if he’d been reprimanded for kicking the crap out of the goateed Bandana Boy, but his presence meant that supervisors were either critically short staffed or were siding with Dimitri’s self-defense tactics. A number of drivers sure did and had been pretty vocal about the right to defend themselves through any means possible.
She resumed reading the piece about the latest stabbing victim. The reporter had written that the victim would likely make a full recovery from her injuries. He came out of nowhere, the victim was quoted as saying. I didn’t hear a thing. Just felt a sharp pain in my back and heard a man say something about a green freak. Guess he didn’t like the color of my tracksuit. Casey looked up. Green freak? Hadn’t Benny’s son heard his dad use the same phrase? Reese thought Benny had been babbling about the movies, but was there another reason?
Casey turned to the Friends. “Does the term green freak mean anything to you three?”
The trio looked at one another and shook their heads.
“What about in terms of superheroes?” Casey added.
Lawrence’s eyes lit up. “The Green Lantern and the Green Hornet. And the Hulk turns green when his anger takes over. They’ve all been called freaks, but they were misunderstood.”
Casey stared at him. “Uh-huh.”
Del cleared his throat, his expression now troubled. “You know what else is green?”
An answer popped into Casey’s head, one she didn’t dare say out loud.
“MPT buses!” As if stunned by her own answer, Felicity’s wispy eyebrows shot up.
“And drivers’ uniforms,” Del murmured.
There it was, the truth slapping her in the face. “My supervisor wasn’t wearing green that night.”
“But the security vehicle’s green and has MPT’s logo,” Del answered. “Green must be the Blade Man’s trigger.”
“Which means none of us should wear it,” Lawrence murmured, checking his clothing.
Felicity scanned her pink jacket and purple leggings. Even Del glanced at his brown hoodie and blue jeans.
“I’ll warn Travis and Hedley,” Felicity said, and soon started texting.
“What for?” Del asked. “Neither of them ride buses anymore.”
Casey was tempted to say this wasn’t true, but she didn’t want to initiate a discussion about the Friends’ group dynamics.
“They’re worried about us, and more violence.” Felicity frowned at him. “Hedley sent photos of the burning garage. Didn’t you get them?”
“No.”
Casey noticed Del’s rigid posture. Did he and Hedley have a problem with each other?
“It’s crazy that someone would kill over a color,” Lawrence said to Casey.
“Yeah.” Casey couldn’t remember the color of the riot victim’s clothing. She’d have to check the footage again.
“Mentally ill people are everywhere,” Del remarked.
True. Far too many were fending for themselves on the streets. To seek shelter from bad weather and bad people, a few of the homeless rode buses without paying the fare. MPT drivers had learned not to press the issue.
“Witnesses said that the Blade Man who went after Mr. Lee was wearing all black clothing,” Felicity said. “If he really is homeless, that’s probably all he owns.” She peered out the window. “We should watch for someone like that. I’ll take this side. Maybe you guys should take the other side of the street, and Casey can watch the bus entrances.”
Great. She’d been assigned to Team Friends. Casey glanced at the half-filled bus to see if anyone had overheard their conversation. Tonight’s riders were a mix of middle-aged and young adults, most of them fixated on their phones.
“First,” Casey said, “keep your voices down if you’re talking about this stuff. Second, we’re now in Maple Ridge, which isn’t the Blade Man’s turf as far as I know. And third, didn’t I make clear that you three are not to go looking for suspects?”
“But we’re safe here,” she answered.
Casey’s phone rang. It was retiree Wayne, who was patrolling MPT property tonight. Since Gwyn hadn’t yet given any feedback about hiring a private security firm, she had to make do with the crew she had.
“Hey, Wayne. What’s up?”
“I saw someone by the fence about five minutes ago,” he replied in a hushed, nervous tone.
“The chain link one on the east side or the wooden one on the west?”
“Wooden one, by the flooring warehouse.”
Shielded by trees and brushes, the west fence was difficult to see and offered many hiding spots. “Where are you now?”
“In the security department, looking out the window.”
“Did you call the police?”
“Should I? I mean, he’s probably gone now, right?”
Casey rolled her eyes. “How will we know for certain unless someone checks? He could be scoping out specific locations to set a fire.”
“Oh, right.” He paused. “Should I call them now?”
Dear lord. “Yes, and did you see what the person was wearing, by any chance?”
“No, I barely got a glimpse of the guy before I hightailed it inside. I mean, it wouldn’t be good to confront an arsonist by myself, right?”
“Right. So make the call right now.”
“I’ll do that. Okeydokey.”
Casey shook her head. A simple “ten-four” would suffice. When would the guy learn the codes or use a little common sense?
If Wayne had spotted the arsonist, then this ruled out Dimitri. Ethan was also on the road right now. Did either of them have an accomplice, though, or was the culprit someone else altogether? A former employee bent on revenge perhaps?
The timing of the arsons had been bothering her. If the suspect didn’t wa
nt to risk getting caught, then why set fires while drivers were still returning to the yard? It would have been smarter to wait until three or four in the morning when everyone was long gone, like the graffiti artist had done. Why take so much risk?
Unless that was part of the game. Start with harmless spray-painting in the wee hours of the morning, then try a Molotov cocktail through an office window when nearly every employee had left. From there, blow up a garage when more people were around, followed by a car explosion practically in front of cops and firefighters. Was becoming more brazen part of the thrill? If so, what was coming next? The thought of someone getting hurt made Casey’s stomach churn.
Dimitri pulled up to the next stop. An older Asian couple exited at the front. He was about to close the door when four teenage boys leapt on board. The boisterous group ambled down the aisle. None were staggering or slurring their words, and Casey didn’t spot any alcohol. More importantly, none of them were the Bandana Boys. These guys were between thirteen and fifteen years old at most. Still, she remained alert. Dimitri glanced over his shoulder, his expression wary.
The boys gawked at Felicity, who seemed oblivious to their presence as she peered out the window and softly sang “Wheels on the Bus.” One of the boys muttered something. The others smirked and slid into seats near the back.
“I see a guy in black!” Felicity pressed her nose against the window.
“Where?” Del raised his phone.
“The one who keeps looking at our bus. Oh, wait. He’s wearing blue jeans.”
“What did I say about staying out of this?” Casey glared at the Friends.
Felicity’s face again bloomed with color. “Sorry.”
Honestly, Casey wondered if something more was going on with that girl than immaturity and ADHD issues.
“We just want to help,” Del said.
“Losers,” one of the boys remarked loudly.
The Friends ignored him. Casey sensed that the trio were accustomed to verbal taunts. Felicity bounced slightly in her seat. So much for a calming ride.
“Bloody dorks,” another of the teens said. “She looks like a ten-year-old on a fieldtrip.”
As Felicity focused on her phone, her cheeks darkened even more. Casey turned and scowled at the foursome. A couple of them stared back but the other two looked away.
“Hey, little girl!” one of the guys called out. “Ain’t you ever been on a bus before?”
Del slowly stood and scowled at the boys. Casey could see the storm building.
“I’ll deal with this.” Casey strolled toward the smirking foursome. Displaying her ID, she said, “Mainland Public Transport has zero tolerance for any form of harassment, including derogatory remarks. If you can’t respect that, then you’ll leave at the next stop. Understand?”
The smirks and smugness disappeared.
“Chill. We’re just jokin’ around,” one of them said.
The bus pulled to a stop. Before she knew it, Dimitri was charging down the aisle, pointing at the boys. “You behave or get off! I don’t need smartass punks on my bus!”
“I’ve got this, Dimitri,” she said, annoyed by his intrusion.
He didn’t look at her. “I should kick your asses out of here.”
“He means it,” Casey said. “So no trouble, all right?”
The tension between Dimitri and the boys continued. The bus was silent. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that every passenger was now watching the confrontation.
“Dimitri, the passengers need to get to their destinations and you have a schedule to keep,” Casey murmured.
Dimitri stomped back down the aisle, muttering to himself. Casey sat near the boys and opened her notebook. She would be expected to write accurate details about Dimitri’s confrontation, especially if the boys launched a formal complaint about perceived mistreatment. So, what was she supposed to say about Dimitri’s behavior? If she reported a high level of aggression, Stan might be obligated to tell Dimitri’s supervisor. Dimitri then would likely face a reprimand of some sort. They had enough enemies outside MPT. She sure didn’t want to make one on the inside.
. . .
By the time Dimitri pulled into Mainland’s yard at the end of their shift, Casey couldn’t wait to go home. He’d remained edgy all evening and refused to speak to her after his altercation with the boys. She supposed she’d insulted Dimitri by telling him to do his job, but too bad. The teens hadn’t caused further trouble and exited the bus shortly after the incident.
Lou had pulled into the yard just ahead of Dimitri and was waiting for her in the parking lot. Dimitri marched past him without saying a word.
“What happened?” he asked her.
Casey kept her answer brief.
“Guy’s gonna create more trouble for himself,” Lou said. “Did you hear from Kendal or Summer at all tonight?”
“No.”
“Let’s hope that no news is good news.”
“Definitely.”
Kendal had agreed to do a drive-by after her shift and look for any little black cars parked near the house. She said she’d only call if something was wrong. Casey had thought about phoning Summer, but was afraid she’d blurt out Rhonda’s news. The cancer diagnosis had been in the back of Casey’s mind all evening.
“I’ll meet you at the car after I clock out,” Lou said.
“Can you give me five minutes? I need to take a quick peek at CCTV footage from the riot. It could be important.” She spotted Wayne emerging from the admin building. “And I need to talk to Wayne.” She hurried toward him. “Any more action tonight?”
Wayne’s double chin jiggled as he shook his head. “Cops checked things out but didn’t find anyone.” His gaze darted around the property. “Thing is,” he whispered, “I can’t shake the feeling that the perp’s come back and is watching us right now. It’s creepin’ me out.”
Casey studied the fence between MPT and the flooring warehouse. “Have you patrolled the yard since we last spoke?”
“I was about to.”
“Okay, go ahead. I’ll be here for a few minutes. Call if you spot anything.”
“Okeydokey.” Wayne started to leave, then stopped. “When will we get the security vehicle back? ’Cause I’d rather drive than walk out in the open.”
No doubt. “Stan said the crime scene techs will release it tomorrow.”
“Good. They find any DNA evidence from the perp?”
“They haven’t said.” Nor would they share that with an MPT employee.
Casey jogged upstairs. The entrance to security had had a new alarm system installed after Hedley was caught wandering through the building one evening last year. She swiped her badge and pressed the four-digit code.
Keeping the lights off, she glanced out the windows overlooking staff parking and the yard. The streetlights created too many shadows. If someone was truly watching the premises, he’d be almost impossible to spot.
Casey unlocked Stan’s door and headed for the credenza, where a pair of binoculars were kept. She crept toward the window and spotted Wayne wandering down the center of the yard, midway between both fences. There was no lighting at all by the tall, wooden fence. Trees and overgrown bushes created more shadows.
Casey’s shoulders tingled. Was Wayne right about someone being out there? She scanned the property twice. Nothing. Sighing, she moved to her desk and pulled up the footage of the riot.
“Casey?” Lou said from the doorway. “Ready to go?”
“Not yet. Come on in, but leave the lights off. Would you mind keeping an eye on the yard while I check something?” She handed him the binoculars. “Wayne thinks he saw someone lurking by the west fence a while ago. He called the cops but they didn’t find anyone. The guy could still be out there, though, waiting for the right moment.”
She found the camera footage of the man who was stabbed at the riot, froze the footage, and zoomed in. The victim wore a forest green polo shirt. “Well, damn.”
“What
?” Lou asked.
“The stabbing victim from the riot had been wearing a dark green polo shirt. The dog walker also wore green. A news article said that the dog walker heard her assailant say ‘green freak’.”
“No way.” Lou peered at the footage. “Maybe Benny was quoting his assailant, a crazy nut who hates the color green.”
Casey wondered if a green-hating street person was already in a law enforcement database for less serious crimes. Many homeless people with mental health issues caught the cops’ attention, but a night in jail was no answer to their problems.
“Would you mind if we drove around the neighborhood a couple of times before heading home?” Casey asked. “If our firebug’s around, maybe we can spot him.”
“Casey, he’s already proven to excel at hiding, and shouldn’t we be getting back to Summer?”
“Just a couple of blocks, please? My gut says he’s nearby.”
“Five minutes, that’s all.” He yawned. “I’m beat.”
“Me too, but I’d feel sick if another fire erupted partly because we couldn’t be bothered to check out the area.”
They headed back downstairs and outside.
Climbing into Lou’s pickup, she said, “Turn right and start down that way. We’re not just looking for pedestrians, but anyone sitting in a car. Let me know if any vehicle looks familiar.”
Lou glanced at her. “Meaning one that belongs to a driver?”
Casey shrugged. “At this point, I’m not sure of anything.”
“What would you do if we did spot someone?”
“Call the police and ask them to see if he’s got arson paraphernalia in his car.”
“Then what?”
“Nothing. We’d wait for the cops to do their thing.”
He turned to her. “Think you’d be that patient?”
“Sure.”
Lou snorted, but she let it go.
Minutes later, they’d covered the immediate area. Other than a group of young people ambling down the sidewalk, everything looked normal. But that didn’t mean much. Someone could still be out there, watching and waiting.
The Blade Man Page 14
