Savage Summer

by Ruth Bainbridge

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means I dug a little deeper. Went through his files and found a few that featured what look to be underage girls. Here’s one.” Mike stopped the action. The girl did look to be in her pre-teens.

  “You know, you can’t always tell. Yeah, she looks young, but—”

  “But there are a few of these. So I started thinking, if I can hack into his computer, so could others.”

  “You lost me,” I commented. I caffeinated more heavily to catch my brain up to speed.

  “Didn’t mean to, Savage. I’m just thinking that he might be somewhat intelligent and figured out that it wasn’t safe to keep anything more on his computer, that’s all. That’s why I’m checking for remote dump sites.”

  “Dump sites?”

  “Yeah, places where you can store things that you don’t want to come back and haunt you. You can even use someone else’s computer to do it, but it’s not nice and Santa will bypass your house on Christmas.”

  “Warning noted. I need that sled.”

  “I know you do, little buddy,” she said, patting my hand. Mooch whimpered, commiserating with my plight.

  “How long will that take?”

  “To go through everything? Well, it could be months or years, but luckily I have—“

  “Programs and mumbo jumbo.”

  “You do listen!” she remarked, slapping my cheek enough to finally wake me up.

  “So you’re in the process,” I responded, finally getting the last drop. I got up for a refill. “You know, you’re starting to sound like Dr. Shadows.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes,” I responded, carrying the refill of steaming hot liquid into the living room. “But why?”

  “Why what?” she responded.

  “Why are you digging? With you, there always seems to be a trigger.”

  “Yeah?” she replied, scratching her forehead in thought. “Maybe it has something to do with Candy and Lamprey being back on.”

  “No.”

  “Yes, but not as an item.”

  “Then how?”

  “”He called her apologizing for the taping. Said he wanted it to remember her by. He stated that he deleted it,” she explained.

  “Which is a lie. You deleted it.”

  “Yes, but the lie will have to stand. I can’t tell Candy about what I did. With her loyalties all twisted, I’m not sure which way things are going to go. If she ends up in his camp, she doesn’t need to know any information that could potentially harm me.”

  “Understood,” I said as I took a few more sips. “But you still haven’t told me what he wanted.”

  “He offered her a job. Said it’s a modeling gig, but it’s overseas. I checked it out, and the job is listed under a talent agency, but I don’t know. My gut is saying it’s all wrong. I mean, Candy’s all alone. She’s the perfect target.”

  “She’s also drop dead gorgeous and probably very right for that kind of work. Are you sure jealousy isn’t playing into this?”

  “It might be,” she admitted, throwing a toy for Mooch to retrieve. “Anyway, I didn’t let on that I’m worried. Instead, I told her that because of my import/export business, that I might be in Tokyo.”

  “Which is where the job is?”

  “Which is where the job is supposed to be. So she’s staying in touch with me.”

  “Good call. Never hurts to be careful. On my side of things, Hank is back. Think I’ll take a nap to make up for lost sleep.”

  “Yeah, I was surprised when you called and said you were spending the night. It’s hard sleeping in a new place.”

  “No, it wasn’t that. It’s just—”

  She reached over, grabbing my hand.

  “I know what you mean, Savage. But you’ll get him. There’s no such thing as unsolvable.”

  “You think?”

  “I know so. You’ll see.”

  CHAPTER 25

  It was just me and Mooch. Oh, and The Creeper. It was the nickname I’d given Wallace. Back on his strict schedule of making my life miserable, he was in the backyard—at 2 AM, this time, but I was ready. As I filmed him, he was unaware that he was about to become famous. Well, he would be if a video of someone squatting in the bushes for an hour was something the viewers on Youtube got off on. I was banking on it going viral.

  A cursory knock on the door was enough for Mike. She walked in without waiting for an invitation. Why didn’t I use that lock?

  “Hey, what’s shaking?” she asked as Mooch sailed in her arms. I swear that dog was part frog.

  “Just The Creeper. You’re a little late?”

  “Said goodbye to Candy. Tonight was her last night at the club.”

  “I see. Thought you might be keeping the same schedule as Hank.”

  “He just get here?”

  “Yup. According to my calculations, it was in time to see Linda turn off the lights.”

  “Maybe I should bring my camera. I could set it up so that we could keep an eye on the house. See if the schedule is adhered to. I mean, I know that’s what Marge said, but it was an informal chat. Linda wouldn’t go into details.”

  “A valid point,” I agreed.

  Another, louder knock on my door got my attention. This time it was Wolfie breaking and entering. I made a note to get rid of the welcome mat.

  “What in God’s name are you doing here?” I shot.

  “And hello to you, too. Worked a late shift and couldn’t resist. Is he back?” he inquired, looking over my shoulder through the crack in the curtain.

  “The Creeper? Yup, he’s there. Either taking a leak or getting a gander.”

  “The Creeper, huh? Good name for him. Of course, you could let the police handle this.”

  “And miss all the fun?” Mike challenged. Back from the kitchen, she had the stein in her hand. I’d have to stock up.

  “That looks like a good idea,” Wolfie remarked.

  “The thing about calling you, Wolfie,” I said, chiming in, “is that we have nothing to say. Yeah, there’s the fact he’s in Marge’s backyard, but so what? There are fifty million excuses he could use for doing something so crazy. The fact that he lives close by doesn’t help.”

  “But we have pictures and eyewitnesses to the fact …” Wolfie stopped, working out the rest for himself. “Of course, then you, Mike, and Marge would be pulled into this, and none of you would probably want that. And even if you didn’t mind, we still wouldn’t know what he was planning, would we? After all, he could say he was doing research on a book.”

  “Exactly,” Mike responded. “We all want to make sure he goes down for something big. It does point to burglary. He’s in sync with the Weissmans’ schedule. He shows up when Linda turns in.”

  “So tonight’s session just got started?” Wolfie inquired.

  “Yup,” I answered.

  “And he’s following the schedule …. waiting for Linda to go to bed.”

  “I guess.”

  “How long did you say this has been going on?”

  “Has to be recent. Mooch didn’t alert Marge before a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Hmmmm. Well, it means something made him think this was a good idea,” Wolfie remarked.

  Something about the mystical way he phrased that statement made the light bulb go on. What in God’s green earth was wrong with me?

  “Duh!” I blurted, hitting myself on the side of my head.

  “Hey, don’t shift the camera,” Mike cautioned. I took note of the warning, fitting it into the tripod.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier, but what you said isn’t necessarily true,” I retorted.

  “Come again?” Wolfie prompted, slugging down more caffeine.

  “Yeah, I have no idea what you’re babbling about either,” Mike tacked on.

  “Always the diplomat,” I observed. “Look, we’re concentrating on the Weissmans’ schedule, but i
t was my schedule that changed! I was staying up all night, and my lights were blazing. It was only a couple of weeks ago that I divorced myself from the nocturnal brotherhood of the dead and started going to sleep early.”

  Mike and Wolfie exchanged glances before Mike attacked me, slapping both sides of my face.

  “You’re a fucking genius, Bright Eyes! Imagine someone as dull as you thinking that up!”

  “She’s right. You are still the man. I confess it didn’t even occur to me, but you are so goddamned right that it hurts,” Wolfie bolstered. “This all could mean that he’d wanted to do what he’s now doing for a long time, but couldn’t. Savage unwittingly put the spanner in the works.”

  “The what in the who?” Mike pressed.

  “The cell phone in the toilet,” I offered. “You know, the monkey wrench that’s screwing everything up.”

  “You could have just said so,” she chastised. The rebuke caused Wolfie to look unnaturally ashamed. His hand went to one of the books I brought home.

  “Greek mythology? You interested in that stuff?” he asked.

  “He is now,” Mike intervened.

  “No accounting for taste,” he said, standing and taking one last swallow of the fresh java. “But I do like the perfume someone’s wearing.”

  It was back.

  CHAPTER 26

  Another morning, another phone call, but this was going to be the last one. Pushing Mooch out of the way, I picked up.

  “What the hell do you want, you asshole?”

  “My, such anger! Hearing you like this, it would convince anyone you were capable of the violence you were accused of.”

  “I was never accused, unless that’s what you’re doing! I’ve had enough of this—”

  “I know you’re innocent, Mr. Savage. That’s why proof is on the way. It’ll confirm that what I say is true and that you’ve been living in a fool’s paradise.”

  I tossed the phone to the side. It rang again, but I ignored the call from my mom. God, she was a trooper! I supposed all parents were when keeping in touch with errant children.

  I showered and changed into a broken down pair of jeans. Maybe I could buy another pair when Marge paid her new bill. I took Moochie for his morning constitutional. Hank appeared to be hasta la vista from his hacienda, but all signs were that he was returning.

  I came back, checking my mailbox as a family of squirrels regarded me from a safe distance. They had their tails trailing up their backs and over the tops of their heads in some Mohawk-style hairdo. Why did they look cute to me? It must have been that my mood was lightening. Only last month, I would have chased them away.

  I unlatched the cylinder, eyeing the design painted on the side and wondering why we all picked birds to decorate our message receptacle. I’d opted for a blue jay motif. After all, curb appeal is everything.

  I had mail—and not the electronic kind. Even though most of the things I bought were paid for online, I did insist on paper receipts, and not just the statements sent through email. Call me old-fashioned, but I needed something in my hand to confirm the business transaction.

  As I strolled to the house, I shuffled through this morning’s fare, a slightly larger white envelope winning first place in the Capturing My Attention Sweepstakes. Putting it to the forefront, I let Moochie off his new spiffy leash as soon as I entered the kitchen. Pouring water, I plugged the percolator in and returned back to the table where I’d thrown the mail.

  I sat down, immediately snatching up the piece that intrigued me. With no return address on it, it piqued my interest even more. As I peeled back the flap, I discovered that two pieces of cardboard kept an item safe from harm. I dug in, separating the thick pieces. It was a photograph. Not just any old one, it was one of Ruth. Lying on a bed, she was naked. Provocatively posed, her eyes were half-closed. She looked like a starlet about to seduce the producer so she could land the leading role and become a star.

  My stomach turned, my insides reduced to jelly. Dr. Shadows had struck again. But while it was proof, there was no proof of when it was taken. Yes, she was in her twenties, but it might have been before I met her. My eyes caught sight of something. I needed to make sure.

  Running to a catchall drawer, I foraged around, withdrawing a magnifying glass. Bringing it to the table, I scrutinized the object around her neck. It was the necklace I’d given her—the one Mike had found on the table.

  Talk about being kicked in the testicles. On cue, Mike walked in.

  “Hey, Brigh—” As soon as she got a gander at me, her comment broke off in midstream. I was not a pretty sight. “What the hell happened to you?”

  Collapsed on the tabletop, all I could do was utter unintelligible sounds. I really had been knocked for a loop. Good one, Dr. Shadows.

  Evidently, there was an invisible string going from my eyes to the evidence before me. Mike was quick to put two and two together.

  “May I?” she asked as she dragged the photo to her. She studied it for a few moments, perhaps searching for something to say. “Ruth?” she settled on.

  I nodded, running my fingers through the choppy hair that I still hadn’t gotten fixed.

  “Did you take this?”

  I shook my head no. It was the only way I was going to get through this. I felt so much like screaming. I pushed the envelope towards her.

  “Oh, I see. Sent to you, huh? No address. Do you know who?”

  Nodding, I got my two words out.

  “Dr. Shadows.”

  “That shithead,” she summarized nicely. “Maybe it was before you two were ….”

  “No. Here; take this,” I responded, handing her the magnifying glass. “The necklace she’s wearing is something I gave to her.” I ran up the stairs, returning with the incriminating evidence. I poured myself some coffee, the shaking causing me to spill some on the counter.

  Taking her eyes from the photo, she fingered the charm dangling from the box link chain.

  A knock on the door alerted me to having another visitor. Before I could yell out, “I’m not home,” Marge entered. Mike didn’t need any prompting, Stuffing the photo in the envelope, she covered the offensive, explicit material with the mundane paid bills.

  “Hi, Mike, Curt,” Marge greeted. “Mind if I?” she asked, pointing to the coffee maker.

  “Knock yourself out,” I answered as Mooch starting doing a happy dance around the stylishly dressed woman.

  “Something wrong?” she pried, her eyes roaming between Mike and me.

  “Nope, just this case. It’s getting to me,” I responded.

  “Good, ‘cause that’s what I came about. I got an interesting tidbit for you.”

  “Shoot,” I replied, really meaning it this time. I would have welcomed a blast from a twelve-gauge shotgun hurtling towards one of my vital organs right about now.

  “Well, I went over to see Linda again. She saw me in the backyard, and invited me over.”

  “Hence, your needing a dose of coffee,” Mike theorized.

  “Exactly. Who the hell serves herb tea for breakfast? Anyway, the kids were up and around. I got to talking to them and Thomas mentioned he’d been sick. Mark and Amy said they were too.”

  “And?” Mike inquired as she started to fill her favorite mug that really wasn’t.

  “And, I’m glad it was me over there instead of you two hotshots because I at least followed up with Linda. I asked when it was that they were sick and she said it started a couple of weeks ago, but that one got sick right after the other and that she and her husband were up—”

  “All night,” I finished. “Marge, you are brilliant. That’s why The Creeper didn’t know the schedule. It had been thrown off by the kids getting sick.”

  Mike high fived me while Marge gave me a know-it-all grin.

  “Now you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Marge quipped, sitting down at the table. “It’s not these bills, is it?” she said, her fingers picking through them. />
  Mike solved the problem by yanking the receipts away and concocting a lie.

  “The problem is Candy. She’s gone to Japan. Modeling assignment. I’m kinda bummed and Savage was commiserating.”

  “I see,” my next-door neighbor replied, spotting the necklace. “Isn’t that Ruth’s? I seem to remember her wearing it.” I nodded. “Well, you better put this away before you lose it.”

  “I think you’re right,” I said, pocketing it.

  “Oh, and this is for you,” she added, shoving a check into my hand. “Full payment up to now.”

  “You do want me to continue, don’t you?” I asked.

  “Hell, yes!” she exclaimed as she embraced Moochie. “I want that guy’s nuts toasted over an open flame for what he did to my Mooches. Don’t I, babykins?”

  When she leaned down, Moochie covered her face in the kind of wet kisses that dogs did best.

  “Besides, I’m curious and can afford to indulge my inquisitive nature.”

  “Hallelujah for that,” Mike cheered.

  “And as for you,” Marge continued, targeting her remark at the woman in the “You Gotta Love So Don’t Tell Me How Or Who” t-shirt. “Why don’t you join her? In Japan, I mean?”

  “Good question,” Mike responded, pouring in even more milk. One container gone, she opened another without bothering to ask. So much for manners. “I guess it’s because she hasn’t succumbed to my charms.”

  “You’re still just friends? Honey, I judged you for a faster mover than that!” the feisty older woman teased.

  “I usually am. But Candy is different. I have real feelings. I ain’t running no game on her, so it’s taking a while.”

  “I see,” Marge sympathized.

  “But the option is there, and I might drop by. You never know.”

  “Glad to hear,” Marge said, taking another hit of coffee as I took the seat next to her. Leveling her eyes, she exchanged a shrewd glance at the two mismatched friends. “Now are you two ready to cut the BS and tell me what’s really wrong?”

  CHAPTER 27

  I hit the gym at 8:00. The picture of Ruth ensured it was a good workout. I punched the shit out of the heavy bag, and set the world record for ab crunches, but it still wasn’t enough. I was intent on finding out why Ruth would do that to me. It meant discovering who she was seeing. Even if it killed me, I needed to know.

  Arriving home at 10:30, I already had company. Marge, Mike, and Mooch were waiting for me in my living room, and the Hank party was in full swing. There were bottles of tequila on my coffee table that didn’t come from my liquor cabinet.