She fed Freddy Krueger, her cat, and checked that his electronic collar, to his miniature dog door, was securely on his neck, so he could terrorize the wildlife and retreat inside when he grew too tired or hot. “No dead birds in my bed, Fred,” she said, as the large black cat with the stubby tail rubbed against her legs and followed her onto the porch. She reached back inside the door and turned the timer on for the outside lights, set the alarm and locked the door behind her. Freddie meowed once and headed out to hunt while Rainey went down the steps after him, clutching a bottle of water and her laptop case.
She stopped at the bottom of the steps, killed the bottle of water and threw it into the trashcan. Rainey stepped over to her pride and joy, a 2010 solid black Dodge Charger, custom outfitted with dark, bullet resistant glass and run flat tires. She opened the door and the hot air rushed out. Even parked in the shade, under the cottage, the Carolina summer heat and humidity could not be escaped. She sat down, cranked the car and rolled down the windows, turning the air conditioning on full blast. She removed the laptop from its case, set it in the station that made it easily accessible to the driver, and plugged it into the twenty-amp power supply she had installed.
Once the air began to cool, she rolled up the windows, popped the trunk and got out, closing the door behind her. She stepped around to the back of the car. In the trunk, she grabbed her camera bag, checked its contents, and sat the bag on the ground. She then pulled up the rug and checked the custom, foam lined, gun case she had Mackie weld into the bottom of the car. Taking out the Mossberg 590DA, nine shot, slide action shotgun, she checked the load and replaced it in the case. She checked the nine-millimeter Berretta and Sig Sauer pistols, considered adding the other holster, so she could carry two guns, and decided it was not necessary. Returning the pistols to their places, she took out the taser instead, shut the lid on the case, pulled the rug back over it and closed the trunk. Rainey picked up the camera case and set it on the passenger seat as she climbed in behind the wheel. She opened the case and plugged the charger for the camera into the power supply. The taser went in the center console.
The cool air from the vents felt amazing as she drove the few feet from her cottage to the front door of the old building that housed the business. It still had the look of an old grocery store from the outside, including a faded Mountain Dew hillbilly advertisement painted on the side facing the road. They had painted the building several times over the years, but only put a clear protective coat over the Dew sign, because her dad thought it was cool. Over the main door, the aluminum sign read Billy’s Bail and Bait, painted in the same green as appeared in the Dew sign around the corner. The sign was not responsible for much business, being so far off the beaten path as they were. Located off highway sixty-four, about twenty miles west of Raleigh, North Carolina, you had to know where you were going to find it. Most of their business in the Research Triangle Park area, which included Raleigh, Chapel Hill, and Durham, came from the reputation her father and Mackie had garnered for being fair and efficient.
She parked the car, leaving it running and went inside. Ernie was just coming out of the back room when Rainey shut the door behind her. Ernie was carrying a small cooler and a thermos.
“I took the liberty of making a few chicken salad sandwiches for you,” Ernie said, setting the cooler on the edge of her desk. “There’s water, a container of celery and carrot sticks and some sliced, fresh watermelon from Henry’s farm, in the cooler and hot coffee in the thermos.”
“Ernie, that husband of yours grows the sweetest melons in the county. Please tell Henry thank you. And thank you,” Rainey added, pecking the older woman on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”
Ernie was quick with her answer, “Likely starve, wind up a homeless wino on the streets, any number of things, and don’t you forget it.”
Rainey laughed, and then said, “You are probably right.” She headed for her office, calling back over her shoulder, “I need to get some things from the office and then I’m going to check out some of the addresses for good stakeout spots.”
Ernie followed her. “Make sure you keep your cell charged. Will you be online later?” Ernie asked.
“My cell is charged and yes, I will be online,” Rainey said, adding, “Don’t worry so much.”
Ernie ignored Rainey and continued, “I’ll check on you later. I’ll bring some more food if you need it. When can I expect to see you again?”
Rainey took the pad JW had written on from her desk, pocketed her cell phone and started back out of her office, answering Ernie as she walked. “I’ll see you in the morning, but I’ll call you this afternoon. JW is sending something over and I’ll need you to scan it and email it to me.” She stopped talking and looked at Ernie’s concerned face. “Really, stop worrying so much, it’s not like I haven’t done this for a living for the last fifteen years. I was an FBI agent,” she patted her side where her pistol hung from its holster, “and they even let me carry a gun.”
“Your father never went after anyone alone,” Ernie snapped back at Rainey’s sarcasm.
Rainey stopped at Ernie’s desk to retrieve the cooler and thermos, then turned to Ernie in all seriousness and said, “I promise, if I see the guy, I will call the police. I will not try to apprehend him alone. Cross my heart.” She felt her finger prick across the still sensitive scar on her breast as she crossed her heart, remembering the promise she made to JW not to call them.
Ernie patted her on the shoulder, saying, “That’s all I’m asking for. Be careful,” she added.
“Always,” Rainey said as she backed out the front door and headed for her car.
She heard Ernie say, “Call me,” just before the office door closed behind her.
Rainey smiled as she placed the cooler and thermos on the floor behind the passenger seat of the car. She teased Ernie about worrying so much, but deep down she really appreciated someone caring about her and Ernie loved her like her own daughter, which made having Constance for a mother more bearable. She climbed in the driver’s side and quickly had directions programmed into her radio, by Onstar, to the first location, Rogers Elementary School, Chapel Hill.
“Let’s go see where Katie Wilson works, shall we,” Rainey said to no one.
She gunned the Charger into reverse, aimed it toward the road and took off, letting her tires catch a little in the gravel. Just enough to have Ernie come out and wag her finger at Rainey, in the rearview mirror. Rainey laughed and mashed the throttle hard, roaring up the road and out of sight of the disapproving Ernie.
Rainey smiled, “God, I love my car.”
Chapter Three
Rainey ate one of the sandwiches on the way to the elementary school. She had not realized how hungry she was until the first bite and then she wolfed the remainder of the sandwich, as if it were her first meal in days. She drank two more bottles of water trying to rehydrate from the alcohol last night, or really, early this morning when she thought about it. She had tracked a skip until one a.m. and then drank, until she passed out, just before dawn. The water made her have to pee, so she pulled into a fast food restaurant where she used their facilities and bought a sweet tea. When she came out of the restaurant, there were five teenagers with gang tats and drooping pants checking out her ride.
The hoods started in on her the moment they saw her. The tallest stepped forward, taunting her with, “Bitch, you know that’s my car, right?”
Rainey did not react at all. She had learned years ago not to react to the bravado these types of criminals used to intimidate would be prey. She simply smiled and unlocked the door with the remote entry on her key chain and sipped her tea through a straw. The tall one was upset by Rainey’s non-reaction to his veiled threat. He came closer, flapping his arms, saying, “What? What? You playin’ me bitch?”
Rainey took the straw from her mouth, still smiling, as she stopped in front of the car. “I think you’re mistaken. This appears to be my car. Do you have one just like it?”
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Her calmness sent the group into belly laughs and they turned their taunts on the tall one, “Ooh, she dissin’ you, man.”
His fellow gangsters now egging him on, the tall one stepped an inch too close and before he knew what was happening, Rainey’s pistol was under his chin with the hammer back. She stepped into him and said quietly, “Nope, I really think you have the wrong car, don’t you?”
The once angry gangster turned into the teenage boy that he was and answered her, dropping the “gangsta” persona, “Yes, ma’am, I believe I have the wrong car. Sorry to have bothered you.”
Rainey un-cocked the hammer and reset the safety, returning the pistol to its holster, saying, “No problem. You have a nice day.” With that, she got in the car and closed the door, locking herself inside. She could not hear what the others were saying to the young man as he walked back to the group. She could only see them laughing as the engine roared to life. She rolled down the window and called to the boy, “Hey, come here a second.”
The young man hesitated before walking cautiously back to the car window.
“What your name?” she asked.
He answered, “Derrick.”
Rainey reached out and stuck one of her bondsman cards in his hand, as she said, “Derrick, if you ever need this, don’t hesitate to call.” Then she drove away, knowing one day soon she would get a call from young Derrick, if he didn’t find a new group of friends, or end up dead in some alley. At least she did not think he would be trying to steal another car tonight. She only hoped Derrick had not wet his pants. He would never hear the end of it.
Rainey turned off Old Oxford Road and onto Church Road just before noon. The school was just a little ways down the road on the right. She located Katie Wilson’s dark blue luxury sedan using the description and tag number given to her by JW. Next door, she found an apartment complex with a parking lot facing the school. She pulled into a shaded spot where she could clearly see Katie’s car. She made a note on the pad to find out where Mrs. Wilson’s classroom was located, so she could make sure the guy was not spying on her through the windows. The school was surrounded by trees and shrubs, which provided Rainey great cover to watch from, but also supplied the stalker with the same cover.
Rainey had four hours to kill before Mrs. Wilson would be leaving school. She decided to go by JW’s home address. She was soon on her way to the exclusive, Franklin-Rosemary Historic District, where the houses start at eight hundred thousand and were almost all built with old family money. JW Wilson belonged in “The District” with his family’s millions from the meat packing business. Rainey did not need help from Onstar. She knew these streets better than a computer, having roamed them for the first eighteen years of her life.
Up until she was ten years old, Rainey happily lived her life as Caroline Marie Herndon, a rich daughter from an affluent family, living in a mansion, in the famous historic district of Chapel Hill, North Carolina. She was surrounded by ancient homes occupied by families who could trace their roots back to before this land became a country. Her father was a prominent heart surgeon, Dr. John Herndon, and her mother, Constance Lee Herndon, was a former debutante and direct descendent of the Virginia Lees, which seemed to be important in the South. Little Caroline went to the best schools and enjoyed the life of the privileged, but just after her tenth birthday she learned the truth about her own roots.
While hunting costumes in the back of her mother’s closet, so she and her friends could play dress up, she stumbled on an old box. In it, she found a picture of her mother and a tall young man, at the beach. Her mother looked like a teenager and she was holding a baby. The young man had his arm around her mother, smiling at the camera.
With the picture, she found a birth certificate for a baby girl named Rainey Blue Bell. How odd she had thought that she and the girl named Rainey shared the same birthday. There was also a letter addressed to her mother, but her name was different. The name on the little white envelope with the red and blue trim was Connie Lee Bell. It was in an airmail envelope from Vietnam. Caroline read the letter.
Dear Connie,
I don’t have much time to write. Things are crazy here. I got the papers from your mother’s lawyers asking me to give up any rights to our daughter. I guess I can’t fight her from over here and if you won’t fight her, I don’t have much choice. So I’m signing them and I hope that’s what you want. I probably won’t make it out of here alive anyway. Please take care of my little girl. I will always love her and you. Say a prayer for me. Goodbye Connie and thanks for the memories.
Love, Billy
Caroline read the letter over and over, trying to make sense of it all. She looked at the picture of the man, staring into green eyes that exactly mirrored her own. His wavy hair was the same ruddy chestnut color that thickly covered her head. Both John and Constance Herndon were blondes. She was a smart ten year old and soon she knew what it all meant. She tore down the stairs and accosted her mother and grandmother, evidence in hand.
She screamed, “Why did you make my father give me away?”
What followed was a night of tears and explanations. Her mother ran away at seventeen with William “Billy” Bell, her high school sweetheart. Connie was pregnant and afraid of what her mother would do. Her mother hated Billy. He was not up to her social standards, the son of hard working farmers from the county. Connie hid the pregnancy. She was having a small baby so it was easy at first, but by the end of the school year, she was having trouble hiding the round belly and weight gain. So, the day after graduation they got married and escaped to the Outer Banks. Billy became a fisherman to support his new wife and baby. Rainey was born in late June, just before Connie’s mother found them.
Connie’s mother, Martha Lee, was a very rich and powerful woman, who got what she wanted, and what she wanted was Billy out of their lives. She kidnapped Connie and the baby. She had rape charges filed against Billy. Her good ol’ boy network would hang him out to dry, if he did not disappear. Billy joined the army and shipped out, but that was not enough for Martha.
Martha had the marriage annulled, through some miracle, and had her lawyers demand Billy give up his rights as a father. She insisted on changing the baby’s name, because civilized people have Christian names. Rainey Blue Bell became Caroline Marie, and her grandmother swore to excommunicate anyone who ever spoke her original name again. Shortly after receiving the letter from Billy, Connie gave in to her mother’s wishes. She stopped being Connie and became Constance, a carbon copy of her mother. She married well, to Dr. John Herndon, who immediately adopted Caroline. Billy Bell was erased from their lives forever, or so they thought.
Little Caroline promptly demanded that she be called Rainey Blue Bell from that moment on. Despite threats of disownment from her grandmother, the new Rainey insisted on finding her father, which she did. When she found him living twenty minutes from her home, Billy told her how he had watched her grow up, from a distance, since coming home from the war. He was fearful, if he told her who he was she would not want him to be her father, but she loved him fiercely from the first moment she saw him. Rainey immediately started spending time with Billy, finally coming to live with him at age fourteen, when her mother could no longer handle her. She still attended high school with her rich friends back in the city, but she never permanently lived at the big historic house, in the District, ever again.
Her grandmother did not completely disown her, only because she was the lone surviving female heir, but the bulk of her estate was divided between Constance and her brother, with the remainder going to Rainey’s two male cousins. The inheritance paid for Rainey’s education at the University of Virginia, where she earned degrees in both Behavioral Science and Computer Forensics, which led to her recruitment by the FBI, and eventually to her dream job with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. She was a Special Agent in the unit for nine years when the bottom dropped out of her perfect world. She was technically still in the FBI, but officially, Rainey was on medica
l leave, of an indeterminate duration. Now, coming full circle, she was back, prowling the old neighborhood, an intruder on her old turf.
She spotted the Wilson house set back from the street, guarded by a low rock and iron fence on the perimeter. A wrought iron gate opened onto a red brick walkway that curved up to the large white Gothic Revival home. The yard was abloom with bright red Crepe Myrtles and Pink Azaleas. Wild flowers, in multitudes of colors, were carefully groomed along the fence and in the small garden by the front door. The driveway cut into the lawn on the left side of the lot and disappeared around the corner of the house. Tall shrubs prevented viewing the back yard. They were also a perfect place to watch someone and not be seen. Rainey was sure at least one of the pictures she had received from JW, the one of Katie getting out of her car, had been taken from these very shrubs.
She pulled into the driveway, but did not follow it around the house. She made another note on the pad to ask if the Wilson’s had an outdoor dog. If they did not, she would recommend they get a big one, with a loud, intimidating bark. That was usually enough to scare off all but the most serious kinds of criminals. The serious criminals knew how to get around the dog, the alarm and most any other deterrents, because they were patient. Patient and cunning criminals were the most dangerous. They waited, planned, and struck at the optimum time of their choosing. She hoped the guy tracking JW’s wife was not one of them, as she backed out of the driveway.
The next address was a Literacy Center in downtown Durham. JW noted that Katie spent most of her evenings at the Center, teaching reading. Rainey could not believe JW let his wife go alone to the run down area of Durham, where the Center was located. It took her about twenty minutes to get there from JW’s house. When she pulled into the parking lot of the strip mall, she found the Center occupying an old furniture store on the end.
RAINEY DAYS Page 3
