Too Many Crooks Spoil the Plot

by Sarah Osborne

  Lucie screamed. “It’s him. The man with the scar. The man who hurt Mommy.”

  “Get down, both of you,” I yelled. They ducked, and I backed up. I swerved around the truck and took off down the narrow road, careening right at the first street I found. I turned again, floored the engine back to Highland, and took a left in front of a Miata whose driver slowed down long enough to give me the finger. The truck had to wait for three more cars before it could get on the road behind me. I tore down Highland, hoping a police car would spot me. No such luck. Traffic slowed at Virginia-Highland and the truck managed to pull up on my left. This time I heard what the guy shouted at me. “Pull over. We gotta talk.”

  Not likely, I thought. I fishtailed right on Virginia and plowed through a 25 m.p.h. zone. Three more blocks and I skidded left on Monroe. I didn’t exactly have a plan, but if I could get to Ponce de Leon, maybe someone would pick me up for speeding. The truck stayed on my tail.

  I was all adrenalin. The kids remained crouched in the back seat, Lucie’s doing for sure. I turned right on Ponce and for a moment I thought I’d lost him. But in a heartbeat he was behind me again. If I braked, he braked. If I pulled around a car, he was waiting for me on the other side. A cat-and-mouse game. Where were the damn cops when you needed them? I was close to Peachtree when I finally heard the siren. The policeman pulled me over and the truck sped by. But not before I made out the first three letters of the license plate.

  “Sh—oot,” I said. “I only got the letters.”

  “I got the numbers, Aunt Di,” Lucie said. “Five, three, two.”

  I could have hugged her. “You’re a wonder, Luce.”

  The officer didn’t believe my story until I mentioned Detective Mason Garrett by name. Then he went to his car, made a call, and came back to us two minutes later.

  “Detective Garrett says I’m to escort you to his office.”

  During the drive Lucie was silent, but Jason couldn’t stop talking. “A cop. See his car? See the lights? Wow, Aunt Ditie. A real cop. Is he ’resting us?”

  “No, Jason, he’s not arresting us. He’s helping us. He’s taking us to see Detective Garrett.”

  I saw Jason’s worried look in the rearview mirror.

  “He took my Transformer.”

  “He’ll give it back when he’s done looking at it,” I said.

  “Detective Garrett will protect us,” Lucie said. She sat up a little straighter in the back seat and patted Jason’s arm as if he were frightened. But he wasn’t the least bit frightened. The people who were scared to death were me and Lucie.

  The patrolman led us to Mason’s office. Mason (or was it Detective Garrett given the circumstances) brought us inside. “Bring a couple more chairs, will you, Joe?”

  Joe did, and the three of us sat down. Mason closed the door and took notes on what happened. “You got his license,” he said. “Great. Did you get a good look at him?”

  I shook my head. “Lucie said it was the man with the scar. William. Lurleen recognized his description when we talked yesterday. She said it had to be Billy Joe Sandler, grandson to William Sandler, Senior.”

  Mason let out a soft whistle. I didn’t know cops really did that. “I got your message. We know him well,” he said. “We’ll get an all-points bulletin out on the truck. We’ll track down Billy Joe with or without his truck. He’s always causing trouble, usually when he’s drunk. We pick him up and Sandler’s lawyers get him off with no charges. This is more serious. We’ll bring him in, don’t worry.”

  I nodded. “I think there was another man in the truck but I couldn’t make him out. Could you, Lucie?”

  Lucie shook her head and stared at her hands.

  Mason and I had a chance to talk privately while the kids got hot chocolate out of a machine and sat with a policewoman who clearly had children of her own. They were peppering her with questions—or Jason was anyway. “Are you a real cop? Girls can’t be cops—they aren’t strong enough. Not strong like me.” I heard Lucie’s voice in the background trying to smooth the waters while the policewoman patiently answered all of Jason’s questions.

  “I’m not sure what to do to keep the kids safe. I can take care of myself, but I don’t want to put the kids at risk. Do we need to move in with a friend or into a hotel for a while? This guy clearly knows where we live and is after the kids for some reason.”

  “Or after you,” Mason said. “He may think you have whatever it is he wants. I’m going to give you protection for a while. I’ll have a police car make circuits by your house during the day and at night you’ll have a PI.”

  “A private investigator? Is that something I should pay for? I’m happy to do it for the kids’ sake.”

  “No, no,” Garrett said. “I know a guy owes me a favor—Danny Devalle. He’s as good as they get. Part of my job is to keep you and the children safe.”

  Before I could say anything, he stood up and started to walk me down the hall to the kids. “I’d like to come by tonight to introduce you to Dan and see how you’re doing. I’m getting a new Transformer for Jason, so maybe I can bring that along as well.”

  “Are detectives allowed to have dinner with people they’re protecting?” I asked.

  “You mean me or Dan?”

  I blushed. “I meant you, but Dan could come as well.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be busy, but detectives like me can do what they like off duty except consort with a suspect. I get off work around seven unless something comes up. Always a possibility unfortunately.”

  “I understand. Come when you’re done. I may feed the kids earlier, but they’ll be happy to see you. ‘Consort with a suspect’—that’s a quaint phrase.”

  “What, are you an English major? Anyway, you should be pleased. It means you’re not a suspect. By the way,” he said, “you did say you weren’t attached, didn’t you?”

  “I’m pretty sure you did some kind of background check on me,” I said. “You probably know I’ve never been married. And no, I don’t have anyone special in my life right now. What about you?”

  Mason shook his head.

  It was far too early for any involvement, but I couldn’t help the warm glow that filled an empty spot in my heart. Mason seemed to read my mind.

  “Tonight is not a date,” he said. “More of a check-in.”

  I nodded. “A check-in. Good. I’m not taking the kids to school. I don’t want them out of my sight.”

  “Agreed. Can you stay with someone else until we bring Billy Joe in for questioning?”

  I nodded and called Lurleen. She said she was delighted for the company. I gave Mason her address and cell phone number.

  “Good. That’s where I’ll meet you with Danny tonight.”

  I told the kids we were all going to spend the day with Lurleen.

  “What about school?” Lucie asked. “Mom never let us miss school.”

  “It’s okay, Luce. One day won’t hurt. I’ll go to school and get your assignments. You can work on them at Lurleen’s.”

  Lucie looked relieved.

  Mason rode down the elevator with us and saw us to our car. He told the kids how much they had helped with the investigation. He squeezed my hand and told me not to worry.

  We got to Lurleen’s around ten. Once the kids were settled into her spare bedroom, I told her what had happened.

  “Billy Joe has always been a bad apple,” she said, “but why is he going after you and the kids?”

  “That’s the question. There was someone else in the car. Lucie said she didn’t see who it was, but I’m just not sure Lucie is telling me all she knows.”

  “I’ll see if I can find out anything.” She shook her head and appeared to be lost in thought. “I know how awful it is to be afraid to tell the truth.”

  I looked at her. “You do?”

  She hesitated and for a mom
ent I thought she might reveal something to me. Something about her past—the real past she never talked about. I had my own suspicions about that. Why would someone need to make up an entire history unless their real childhood was too miserable to talk about?

  Instead she said, “Of course I know. I watch TV, all the news regarding children and abuse. You can go on to work; we’ll be fine. No one knows the kids are here.”

  “Thanks. I’ll stop by the clinic and see if they need me, but first I’m going to the school. I want to let them know what’s happening.”

  Lurleen gave me a hug. She seemed to have dropped all of her French mannerisms. When things got serious, Lurleen became all business. I imagined it was how she behaved at Sandler’s as an accountant for all those years.

  I talked with the principal at the children’s school. Fortunately she knew me from previous interactions. Several refugee families had settled in the area, and we’d spoken from time to time about difficulties the children were having. That was over the phone—this was the first time we’d met in person. I liked the look of her. A large, tall woman, in charge, but with a warmth that came through as she asked for details about the children’s situation.

  “I hope they won’t be out of school for long,” I said. “If any adult asks about the kids, could you let me know?”

  “Of course.” She took down my contact number.

  The classroom teachers were equally concerned. I gathered up work assignments for two days and asked if anyone had been around the classroom asking for the children.

  Lucie’s teacher said no. Jason’s teacher took a moment to answer.

  “It’s odd now I think of it. Some man, dark haired, did approach Jason in the playground. I told him he had to go through the office. Jason didn’t seem frightened of him though. I’m sorry I don’t know his name or any more about him.”

  “Did the man have a scar?”

  She shook her head. “No scar that I could see. Is that important?”

  “It might be. Thank you. If you see the man again, please let me know.”

  I called Mason with the latest news. He was there and took my call. “We haven’t found Billy Joe yet, but we will. It’s only a matter of time. I’ll send someone over to the school to talk with the teacher.”

  We left it at that. I drove home, dropped off the worksheets for the kids, and called the clinic.

  “I thought you couldn’t come today,” Vic said. “If you are free for the afternoon, I could use the help. We’re slammed.”

  “Go, go, go,” Lurleen said when I asked her about leaving. “We’re fine.”

  I kissed the kids goodbye and headed for work. Every few seconds I checked my rearview mirror, but no one seemed to be following me.

  Chapter Seven

  Vic was delighted to see me. “I didn’t put you on the roster, but I’m glad you’re here.”

  I looked around the refugee clinic. It was always bustling, but today it was busier than usual. The waiting room was full of children and their families—some in Western clothes, others in native dress. It looked the way it always looked, like a mini United Nations gathering. Interpreters were seated by several family members, helping to get their stories straight. Staff members greeted me warmly. I worked at the clinic full time. Victoria had other responsibilities two days a week. I always felt happier when she was around. Not just because we were friends. She’d done this kind of work for years, had an infectious disease fellowship under her belt, and even worked with the Peace Corps in Sierra Leone. She was the doc I aspired to be.

  She listened to all that was happening at home and insisted I leave early to be with the kids.

  I worked steadily for five hours, triaging patients who needed to be seen by specialists and two who needed to go to the hospital. One of these was a seven-year-old with possible TB. That meant a series of TB tests for close relatives, something the public health nurse would handle. The other child was a ten-year-old boy with severe malnutrition and possible intestinal parasites.

  Vic shooed me out the door at 4:30. “We’ve got the rest,” she said. I looked around. Two or three families remained to be seen.

  “Aggie and I can handle it. Go.”

  Aggie was a nurse practitioner who could handle anything. I nodded and took off for home.

  My plan was to let Hermione out before I went to Lurleen’s. That idea flew out of my head when I saw two cop cars in my driveway. I parked on the street and rushed up to the opened door of my house.

  “What’s going on?” I yelled at the cops. My voice sounded unrecognizable to me. Splintery. High-pitched. Hysterical. I could barely catch my breath. One cop came from the kitchen and another from the back bedrooms.

  “Everything’s okay,” said the first officer. “I’m Officer Forrest. This is Officer James. A neighbor called us about a possible break-in. We put your dog out back. She was making a fuss, but she’s fine now.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “We’re not sure yet. Your neighbor saw a truck parked on the street. Two guys inside. Apparently they broke into your house.”

  “Oh God,” I said. “It’s the men who followed us this morning.”

  Officer Forrest asked for details and wrote them down on a form. The questions were tedious. Full name. Phone number. Where did I work? Was this my usual time to arrive home? Did I leave the doors unlocked? He took forever writing my answers in the appropriate spaces. Why wasn’t he out searching for the men and the truck?

  “Look, I know who did this.” I tried hard not to yell at the young officer. “It was Billy Joe Sandler. It was his truck. The police have been looking for him all day—you must have that information somewhere.” I caught myself. The guy was just doing his job. The children weren’t home, thank God, and that was really all that mattered. “I’m sorry.” I got rid of the edge in my voice and told him about the early-morning car chase.

  “That sounds like Billy Joe. He does whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and Hunter Davis keeps him from going to jail. Best criminal lawyer in Atlanta spends half his time bailing Billy Joe out of trouble. That’s what happens when you have enough money. We pick him up at least once a month—but it’s always on drug charges, some brawl. This one’s different.” The officer peered over his sheet at me. “What’s he got to do with your kids, and why would he break into your house?”

  I told him about Ellie, and then I mentioned Mason.

  “You’re in good hands with Detective Garrett,” Forrest said. He nodded at his partner, who left to call Mason.

  “Can’t see that anything big has been stolen. Ready to take a walk-through?” he asked me.

  I nodded. My stomach lurched at the sight of the kids’ room. Billy Joe had stripped the bed. Turned the dresser drawers upside down and emptied them on the floor. He’d torn apart Jason’s action figures, and body parts were scattered over the bed as if they’d been in some horrible galactic war. He was desperate to find something, and by the look of things he hadn’t been successful.

  “We tried to call you,” Officer Forrest said.

  “I turn my phone off when I’m working and must have forgotten to turn it back on. I spoke with Lurleen and the kids an hour ago. Everything was fine.”

  “Lurleen?” James wrote down the information I gave him.

  It was disgusting to imagine Billy Joe in my house. I wanted to burn everything he’d touched.

  We walked through the entire house. Majestic was hiding under my bed. My room was barely disturbed. A few drawers were dumped on the bed. Nothing more.

  Billy Joe seemed to think the kids had whatever it was he wanted. Or maybe he’d been interrupted in his search. Mason arrived as we finished looking over the house.

  “You all right?’ he said. “The kids okay?”

  I nodded. “The kids are with Lurleen. They don’t know anything about this, but I fee
l so violated. I know that’s what everyone says when it happens to them, and now I understand why.” I took a deep breath. Some punk like Billy Joe Sandler was not going to make me feel like a victim. “Why didn’t you pick him up today?”

  “We tried. I don’t know how he managed to pull this off. We miscalculated. Didn’t think anyone, even Billy Joe, would be stupid enough to break into your house in broad daylight.”

  “I need to check on the kids and talk to Lurleen.”

  “I’ll talk with the officers. We’ll dust the kids’ room for fingerprints. Give us half an hour. Then you and I can talk.”

  I drove to Lurleen’s house. When she opened the door, she could see something was terribly wrong. She hugged me and whispered in my ear, “What’s happened?” The kids were on her heels.

  I hugged them and turned away from Lucie before she could take a look at my face. She’d know in a flash that something wasn’t right.

  Lurleen came to the rescue. “There now. You have said your hellos, mes petits choux. I need you to go back to your Chutes and Ladders and play without me. I haven’t seen your aunt Ditie all day, and I want to talk with her.”

  Lucie and Jason ran off without protest to the den.

  Lurleen took my hand, sat me on the sofa, and whispered once more, “What is it? Did they find the men who chased you this morning?”

  “No, but the men found us. Billy Joe broke into my house, turned the kids’ room upside down looking for whatever it is he wanted to get from Ellie.”

  Lurleen’s face went rigid. Her hazel eyes flashed with anger. Her jaw set. Even her hair seemed to glow with a fiery red hue. “You, the children, Hermione, and Majestic will stay with me for as long as you need to.”

  “I can’t put you in danger,” I said.

  “Nonsense. If you are anywhere but here I will worry about you every minute. I knew there was a reason I took that women’s self-defense class along with my Zumba training. No one messes with Lurleen du Trois. Certainly not two men in a beat-up truck.”

  I might not know Lurleen’s real name, but I knew her character and her courage. She’d always have my back.