Tommy's Mom

by Linda O. Johnston

  She obeyed, sort of. She hung back, watching as he stiffened his back against the nearest window and slunk sideways, steadying the elbow of the arm that held his raised gun with his opposite hand.

  As he reached the window of Sheldon’s darkened shop, he sprang into action, blazing toward the door, which he used his hand to thrust open with as much force as if he’d kicked it. Had it been unlocked, or had he used adrenaline as a key? Holly had no idea.

  She held her breath. No shots. No sounds at all.

  Using the same technique of snaking along the neighboring storefront, then hurrying into Sheldon’s, she followed Gabe.

  In the few seconds of delay, Gabe had turned on the lights. He knelt on the floor beside a prone body.

  “Evangeline!” Holly cried.

  “She’s alive but hurt,” Gabe said.

  “Where’s Tommy?” Frantic, Holly looked around. She immediately spied another pair of legs behind the counter—adult legs, a man’s. “It’s Sheldon,” she said. “He’s hurt, too.”

  Gabe rose and joined her, kneeling beside the thin man who lay curled on his side.

  Gabe had taken out his cell phone. At that moment, Holly didn’t see his gun. But before he was able to call for help, Sheldon sprang to his feet with surprising agility.

  Holly gasped. “It’s us, Sheldon. Gabe and me.”

  “I know, Holly, my dear.” There was a hint of smug laughter in Sheldon’s voice that Holly had never heard before, as if he had told a joke that only he understood.

  And he was pointing a very lethal-looking gun right toward her heart.

  “WHAT THE HELL are you doing, Sheldon?” Gabe asked. But things were suddenly coming clear to him.

  Damn, he’d been played for a fool!

  “I think it’s obvious, don’t you?” Sheldon asked. Gabe wanted to wipe that Cheshire cat grin right off his face, preferably with the butt of his gun.

  The gun that he held at his side, rather than pointed where it would do some good. Could he raise it and fire it quickly enough?

  Or would Sheldon shoot Holly first?

  “Put your gun very gently on the floor, Gabe,” Sheldon said, almost as if he had followed Gabe’s train of thought. But it must have been obvious. He stood there like some kind of dim-witted fool with his thumb in his ear: cell phone in one hand, 9mm in the other, unable to use either to help Holly or himself.

  He hesitated for an instant, waiting for a plan to come to him.

  None did.

  “Put it down!” Sheldon repeated. This time, Gabe obeyed.

  As he crouched on the floor for the moment it took to lay his gun there, he considered ramming Sheldon, butting him off balance. But Sheldon had grabbed hold of Holly. He had his left arm around her throat. His right undoubtedly still held the gun. Pointed right into her spine. The slim khaki slacks she wore, her flimsy beige knit shirt, would provide no protection at all.

  Gabe rose slowly, weapon on the floor, his hands in the air.

  “Where’s Tommy?” Holly asked. She sounded cool. As if she faced this kind of danger every day. Her eyes, though, told the true story. They were huge and dark and as fearful as if she knew the next instant was her last.

  As it might be. Damn! He had never felt more helpless in his life.

  “Tommy is safe,” Sheldon replied to her question. “He’ll be released as soon as you turn over to me what Thomas left.”

  “But I still don’t know what it is,” Holly protested. “I told Al that.”

  “Yes, Al said so. But he also said he figured you suspected him so you were lying to protect Tommy and you.”

  “Then why did you kill him?” Holly cried.

  “Because he was getting cold feet. He wanted to keep the kid and you out of it, too. But a lot was riding on keeping you involved.”

  “Were you the one who kept calling me?” Holly demanded.

  Sheldon only smiled.

  Gabe ached to rush him. But Sheldon was armed, and for the moment he was not.

  “Did you kill Thomas, too?” Gabe asked as conversationally as if he asked the price of one of the art pieces in Sheldon’s shop. The primitive masks around the room stared at Gabe with blank eyes. Taunting him. You stupid fool. We saw it all. Of course he murdered Thomas Poston.

  “He threatened to expose me,” Sheldon said, obliquely answering the question.

  “And you staged your own injuries,” Holly said. She sounded breathless, and no wonder. Sheldon was maneuvering her across the room toward one of his tallest display cases, still hanging onto her throat. Smart move, for with the lights on in here and the darkness outside, someone could peek in and see what was happening.

  Gabe prayed someone already had. But he couldn’t count on it.

  “Yes, I did,” Sheldon replied. “It wasn’t hard to give myself some bumps and bruises and overstate how much they hurt. I am an actor, you know, in my spare time.” He laughed aloud.

  Gabe wanted to strangle him for the way he was hurting Holly.

  They stood behind the tall cabinet now. Gabe shifted so he could see them better.

  If he tried to run out of the store, would Sheldon shoot him in the back? Probably. Worse, he would undoubtedly shoot Holly, too.

  How could he chance it?

  He leaned against the nearest cabinet, attempting to feign nonchalance. He had to do something. But what?

  “You put on the mask to scare Tommy, didn’t you?” Holly asked. “But why did he seem so afraid of policemen?”

  “Because I put on part of Evangeline’s costume for the play, of course. She left it here while the theater was being used by the high school. It came in handy, though it was a bit of a tight fit.” His leer exposed large, gleaming teeth that made Gabe think of a great white shark. “All the better to make you think that Evangeline was the killer. Oh, and by the way, I know Tommy’s talking now. He spoke to me before, told me all about the monster in the police uniform.”

  “Where is he?” For the first time, Holly began to struggle. Gabe watched in impotent rage as Sheldon subdued her by tightening his arm about her neck. She gagged and grew still.

  “Don’t worry about Tommy,” Sheldon said. “Right now, it’s time to tell where I can find the paperwork Thomas left.”

  “Why should I?” Her voice, though raspy, sounded indifferent. She was doing a great job of pretending lack of fear. What a damn fine, brave woman!

  He would get her out of this.

  He looked around for a weapon he could lay his hands on without being obvious.

  “Then you do have it? Of course you do. And you must turn it over because I told you to.” Sheldon was beginning to sound angry. That wasn’t good. A bad guy with a short temper did foolish things. Like hurt people.

  “Not good enough,” Holly said. “You have to let Gabe, Tommy and me go.”

  “Now, Holly, you know I can’t do that.”

  “He’s got to kill you and me,” Gabe told her. “We know enough to cook his scrawny goose but good. And he’s going to blame it on Evangeline, aren’t you, Sheldon? Isn’t that why you got her involved lately? So you’d have someone to pin it on?”

  Sheldon didn’t deny it.

  Gabe saw Holly’s chest begin to heave, as if she had finally understood what was happening. “I see,” she said. Her tone had risen, but she still seemed to maintain her composure. “You will let Tommy go, at least.” She made it a statement, not a question.

  “That depends on how quickly you get it to me.” Sheldon’s patience was waning fast.

  “I’m not sure I’ll get it to you at all,” Holly said. “In fact, I’ve already put it someplace safe where it’ll be found with instructions to open it in the event something happens to me.”

  Good bluff, Gabe thought. Until Sheldon started asking questions.

  Which he did immediately.

  “How do I know that you even know what I’m talking about?”

  “I told Al I had it earlier today,” she replied. “But I told him to
say otherwise to you. I wanted to continue to play helpless widow. Only he was playing both of us against the other. Maybe it’s better that you did kill him.”

  Gabe wanted to smile at Holly’s ingenuity. Unless she was actually telling the truth…? No. He knew Holly. She’d have told him everything earlier when she explained her discussion with Al.

  But Gabe needed to do something. Now. While Sheldon was confused. He focused out of the corner of his eye on one of Holly’s sewn creations. It hung on the wall near where Gabe stood. It was a depiction of a scene of where sea met sand, with brilliant orange crawling crabs and scarlet and green fish in the bright blue waves. Pretty piece.

  More important, it was hung on the wall by a long, thick dowel. A dowel that could be used as a battering ram, given the right angle and opportunity.

  “Yeah, maybe it’s better that Al’s dead. And maybe I should kill you right now, too.” Sheldon tugged on her throat again, and she made a small choking sound.

  Gabe forced himself to breathe in and out. To stay perfectly still, when what he wanted to do was commit an act very unprofessional for a cop: murder. After a bout of very painful torture.

  “That still doesn’t mean you know what I’m looking for,” Sheldon continued.

  “It’s evidence of your extortion scheme,” Holly said, every word an effort. But Sheldon must have loosened his grip, for she shook her head and rubbed at her throat near his arm. “Stuff Thomas put together about it before you killed him. It’ll implicate you. Is that why you killed him? Did he want out?”

  Had she actually found something? Once again Gabe’s certainty wavered, but only for a second. No, she had to be relying on educated guesses, based on what Gabe had told her before. Smart, brave woman!

  Her words must have hit the mark. “Tell me where it is, you bitch!” Sheldon yelled.

  “You’re hurting me,” Holly said. Her eyes met Gabe’s—and then she appeared to faint.

  Sheldon lost his balance while trying to hold up the inert weight that Holly had become. He flailed out with his free arm. The hand holding the gun rose into the air. It was no longer pointed at Holly.

  Gabe lunged toward the wall, praying that the wires used to hold the dowel were as flimsy as they looked. Surely, the man wouldn’t want things he’d need to take down to show paying customers to stick like permanent fixtures.

  He grabbed the hanging off the wall with infinite power born of terror for Holly and fury that this man had created so much chaos in his adopted town. He rammed the end of the dowel hard into Sheldon’s gut.

  The gun fired.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Gabe!” Holly screamed as she saw him fall to the floor. Had he been hit?

  She rose quickly and headed toward the two men. Only then did she realize that Gabe had Sheldon in a headlock on the ground. Plus, his legs had wrapped around the older man’s, immobilizing him despite his thrashing.

  With his teeth gritted savagely, his eyes as wild as the ocean’s fury, his brow a dipping geometric line of concentration, his dark hair a mass of unkempt tangles, Gabe looked as primitive as any of the masks around Sheldon’s store. This man who had been so kind and gentle to her and to her son was brutal and powerful when he meant business. Police business.

  Holly had never been happier to have a cop around when she needed one.

  His eyes focused on hers. “Call 9-1-1,” he ordered. This was one command she had no trouble following.

  DOLPH HILO and Bruce Franklin were the first cops to respond to Holly’s call for help.

  She watched Dolph, on instructions from Gabe, clamp cuffs on Sheldon’s wrists, securing them behind his back. “What the hell happened here, Chief?” he asked.

  Sheldon looked wilted. Subdued. Nothing like the monster who’d murdered at least two people.

  Tommy’s monster. Oh, lord, where was her son? Holly’s stomach churned like a bile-filled waterspout as she worried.

  “We’ve caught the head of a damn writhing serpent,” Gabe growled. “But I’ve a feeling that the middle and tail are going to do some real damage to our department. And you two? Do you know what I’m talking about?”

  “No, Chief,” said Bruce—but Holly thought she saw a lie in his eyes.

  “Look, Chief,” said Dolph. “Bruce and I…well, we had some suspicions. But that was—”

  “I’m calling Jimmy Hernandez and a crime scene team,” Gabe interrupted. “We’ll sort this all out later.”

  Sirens blessedly sounded, not far away. Holly heaved a sigh of relief. Even if Bruce and Dolph were involved in the scheme up to the collars of their uniforms, they’d act like model cops now, with fellow officers on the way. Or so Holly prayed.

  “Mr. Sperling’s under arrest for murder, among other things,” Gabe said. “Be sure to read him his rights, in case he feels like talking to us. And I’ll be listening whether he names any names.” He glared at the two uniformed officers, who didn’t meet his eyes.

  Gabe had his man in custody. That was a good thing, Holly thought. But he had no time for her now. Or Tommy.

  After assuring herself that the shot had gone wild, into the ceiling, Holly bent over Evangeline.

  Her Honor was wide awake.

  “I played possum for a lot of that little performance,” she admitted. “I was trying to figure out a way to use the element of surprise to distract Sheldon, but you beat me to it.”

  “Do you know where Tommy is?” Holly asked.

  “I think so.”

  With Holly’s help, she stood, obviously stiff. For once, she was dressed in slacks rather than a suit, and it was wrinkled and in less than perfect shape. But no wonder, considering what Her Honor had been through.

  “Sorry about the confusion tonight,” Evangeline said, “but Sheldon told me he’d just received an anonymous but immediate threat against Tommy. Someone was going to kidnap him from the theater if he wasn’t taken out of there right away. Sheldon told me to get Tommy away from Edie and bring him here secretly, for his own safety. In my surprise and stupidity, I listened to him instead of checking with you. Anyway, I think Tommy’s in here.”

  They headed for the back room, where Evangeline turned on the lights. “Tommy, are you here?” she called as she crossed the room.

  Holly thought she heard a thumping.

  Reaching the sink, Evangeline stooped and pulled open the cabinet beneath it. On the floor, behind the cabinet doors, lay Tommy, tied up and gagged. His eyes were huge and frightened.

  Together, Holly and Evangeline pulled him out. Holly extracted the nasty-looking scarf from his mouth. He looked from Evangeline to her, then back again. His small body was shaking, and his mouth opened as if he wanted to speak.

  “It’s okay to talk in front of Mayor Sevvers now, if you’d like,” Holly said softly as she worked at the horrid knots in the rope holding her son’s hands together in front of him. Damn Sheldon Sperling! Tommy’s wrists were raw. So, when she got to them, were his ankles beneath his socks.

  “Mommy?” Tommy’s voice was small and scared. Holly hugged him closely to her. She lifted him, in time to see Gabe walk into the back room and grin as he saw them.

  “What, sweetheart?” Holly said.

  “Mr. Sperling showed me the mask. He put it on. Mommy, is Mr. Sperling the monster?”

  “Yes, honey,” Holly said as tears of joy ran down her face. Her son was all right. She was all right. And Gabe was all right, too. “Mr. Sperling was definitely the monster.”

  MUCH LATER, after Sheldon had been taken into custody and the crime scene team was finished, Holly asked Gabe, “Is it all right if we leave now?”

  They’d remained in the back room, sitting around the table with Evangeline, who looked pretty pleased with herself.

  Of course she would be, Holly thought. She’d been directly involved with catching a criminal—a murderer and extortionist. She could make a huge stack of political hay with what had happened this evening. Maybe she could even run for Congress or governor
on an anti-crime platform.

  Edie had joined them. She’d said she had called around frantically after leaving the theater, everywhere she could think of, trying to learn if Tommy was all right. Eventually, she’d tried Sheldon’s. Evangeline had answered the phone, told her what had happened. She had gotten here as soon as she could and kept them company while the crime scene team worked and they were interrogated individually. Uncharacteristically, she was clad in loose, dark clothes, but said she’d run out of her house in a hurry, throwing on anything she could find.

  “I simply can’t believe it of Sheldon,” she’d said when she’d arrived. “But does anyone know yet what he was looking for?” No one did, not really.

  Now, Gabe responded to Holly’s question. “You can leave in a minute, but first—” He lifted Tommy from Holly’s arms, then sat down again with the boy on his lap, hugging him. “Tommy, are you feeling well enough to tell us exactly what you saw here at Mr. Sperling’s shop the morning you saw the monster?”

  He nodded with all the solemnity of a four-year-old. He slid out of Gabe’s arms. “I was coloring here,” he said, pointing at the table. “Oh!” A look of surprise and excitement came over his face. “My stuff!”

  “What—?” But Holly didn’t finish her question.

  Tommy ran over to the huge floor-to-ceiling cabinet along one wall of the room and yanked open one of its lower doors. He pulled something out: a bright red plastic zippered pouch. A familiar portfolio case. It belonged to Tommy.

  “Did you leave that here that morning?” Holly asked.

  “Yes, Mommy.” Carefully, with small, thin fingers, Tommy pulled open the zipper. “See?” He pulled out a coloring book featuring one of his favorite cartoon characters and a box of crayons, and some papers. Typed papers.

  Holly looked at Gabe, then back again. “May I have those pieces of paper, honey?” she asked.

  “Sure.” Tommy’s face fell. He looked as if he was going to cry as he brought her the computer-generated pages. “They’re Daddy’s,” he said.