After the pleasantries were done, Danny ordered two appetizers and a main course, fully aware in advance that Neil would be paying. Neil ordered a round of nachos. He’d already eaten half an hour earlier.
“What’s on your mind, Neil?” Danny drank coffee with enough sugar to kill a diabetic and enough cream to guarantee clogged arteries.
“That story in the paper, college girl that was found dead?”
“Yeah?” Danny’s face changed slightly, a subtle thing, but he could see the shields go up.
“Well, I saw a girl the other day, in passing, and I want to know if it’s the same girl. If it is, maybe I can help with something, maybe I can’t.”
Holdstedter relaxed, but again it was a subtle change. “What makes you doubt if it’s the same girl?”
“Ten pounds less baby fat, hair that was colored red and blue, paler skin, way too much make-up, and if I’m remembering correctly, a pierced eyebrow.”
Danny stared hard for a moment and then nodded. “Sounds like the same girl.”
“Well, all I can tell you is she was walking with another girl and said she thought something was following her. Not someone, something. That’s why she stood out for me.”
“I appreciate that, but it’s not much to go on.” Danny wasn’t joking. That was one of the other things he liked about the man.
“Well, I don’t know if it’ll do you any good, but I might have a picture.”
“Might?”
“I snapped it sort of on reflex and I don’t know if it’ll do you any good. I’ll e-mail it to you.”
“Don’t have it on you?”
“Well, I didn’t exactly expect to open the newspaper and see the girl, if you see my point.”
Danny flashed a very brief smile. A few minutes later, they were conversing about old times and new ones as well. The detective paid for lunch, which was a pleasant surprise.
After that the matter once again became a peripheral thing. Neil emailed the file to Danny and thought nothing more about the incident. It was a tragedy that another life had been lost, but in the grander scheme of things, he’d never even really met the girl and he had other business to attend to.
It took three weeks to get the pictures he needed of Meredith Beaumont and her paramour. By that point, he’d learned the boy’s name was Cory Langston, that he was twenty-four years old, getting ready to graduate from college, just barely, and had gone through a long string of older women who were willing to treat him with a little TLC and some extra cash now and then. He didn’t ask why the man who’d hired him wanted extra information on the boy. It wasn’t his job to ask questions, merely to get results.
The money was good and in the end that was enough.
Life went on for a while and the strange death of Sonia Fullbright became a thing of the past, along with his relationship with Laurie that ended mere days later.
Six months later, Neil got a new client. This time the recognition was automatic and there was no reason to doubt his memory. The shapely woman in front of him had changed her hair color, but he recognized her as the girl that had spoken with Sonia Fulbright just days before the college student was murdered.
Her name was Christy Benson, and she was a student at Sacred Dominion University. The hideous color she’d dyed her hair in the past had been replaced with a light brown shade that he had to guess was the original tone. Her make-up had been cut back to more acceptable levels, and her clothes were positively conservative.
He didn’t say a word about the changes, but it must have shown on his face. Her expression was one part defiant, waiting for him to make a comment, and one part apologetic, worried that whatever comments he made might be true. In all likelihood, she came from a very religious family and had finished sowing her wild oats before they could be her downfall. It happened a lot at Sacred Dominion. One taste of freedom meant little to some and meant a devastating change of lifestyle to others. Some, like the girl in front of him if he were guessing properly, fell somewhere in the middle and either pulled out of their tailspins in time or wound up being the disgrace of their conservative families.
He opted not to mention what he saw when he looked at her, and she, in turn, opted not to acknowledge his kindness with words, but merely with a very brief nod and smile. That worked just fine for Neil. His motto still stood: It wasn’t for him to judge, merely to get the job done.
“You said you’ve been having problems, Ms. Benson?”
She nodded in response, and he stared at her for a few long moments. “Perhaps you could elaborate?”
She got a sheepish look on her face and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m trying to figure out what to say.”
Sometimes it was hard for people to get to the point. It was a natural side effect of the situations they found themselves in. What she meant was I’m trying not to sound crazy. Or possibly I don’t want to do this because it’s embarrassing.
“Listen, I’m paid to provide a service. I’m not paid to provide judgment on you or on anyone else, okay?”
She flashed a tight smile and nodded. “I think something’s following me.”
Neil stared at her for a moment and finally nodded. “Tell me more.”
“Well, last year a good friend of mine was murdered. You might have heard about it in the papers. Her name was Sonia Fullbright.” Her voice cracked a bit, and he thought there were going to be waterworks, but the girl composed herself.
“I remember the case. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Another nod to acknowledge his words. “I knew Sonia most of my life growing up, you know? We even decided to go to the same school together. But that’s not what’s important here. What’s important is she was murdered. And I think whatever murdered her might be coming after me.”
“Okay, first you said something was following you and now you said whatever murdered Sonia is coming after you, so I have to ask: what makes you think whatever is chasing you is inhuman?”
Christy hugged herself in an effort to get warm. “I saw it once, when it was chasing after somebody else.”
“You’re losing me.”
“I saw it once.” Her tone was defensive, the look she shot his way a warning that she would not speak more on the subject. He’d have been annoyed, but he never allowed himself that luxury when dealing with potential clients. “That’s all. I saw it, and now it’s after me, and I need to know what it is and how to stop it.”
“Have you gone to the police?”
“I don’t have any proof to show them.” Her hands moved around in front of her, aimlessly, as if seeking a way to pull exactly the right words from the ether. “That’s why I need you, so I can convince them I’m not just crazy.”
“So, let’s go over the details. What makes you think someone is following you?”
“I can sense it.” Her eyes narrowed. “Have you ever felt it when someone is watching you? I mean really, really watching you, like a hawk. Not all the time or anything, but several times I’ve had the hairs on my arms freaking out.”
“What else?”
“That’s it, mostly. I just, I feel it.”
“Okay, so no clue who it is? No idea why someone is following you?”
“Can’t you just trust me on this?” Her voice gave away her frustration.
“It’s not a matter of trusting you or not trusting you. It’s a matter of being able to prove anything at all to the police.” He shook his head as he spoke. “You want evidence, and that means I need as much detail as you can give me, because I have to see what you’ve been feeling and I have to get pictures and proof. Do you understand?”
Christy looked hard at him and finally relaxed, slumping back into her seat. Despite the situation, he let himself appreciate her body, just, discretely of course.
“If you have any idea why your friend was followed, or why you might be followed by the same person, you need to be upfront with me and tell me. We also need to discuss the cost factor. You’re asking for a lot from me
here, Ms. Benson. My services aren’t the most expensive in town, but they aren’t cheap, either, especially since I’m going to have to invest in 24-hour surveillance if I plan on catching any images that are useful to you.”
“How much are we talking?” Her face did the slow collapse of the desperate.
“Realistically, you’re talking about at least two hundred dollars a day plus expenses, and believe me, that’s the discounted rate.”
Her eyes lowered to the ground for a moment and then she stood up. “I see. Thank you for your time. I can’t afford that.”
Desperation is a strange thing. On some people it’s damned near a curse and on others it wears like a perfume. Neil sighed. “Okay, look, I can give you a day, maybe two. We’ll work out a payment plan. I don’t normally do this, but you seem too worried to let you go off on your own.” He knew he would regret the words even as they came out of his mouth.
His slate was clean, so Neil started the very next day. He did not, however, inform his client of that fact. There was always a chance she was, for whatever insane reason, trying to scam him or to scam someone else. If she were doing anything illegal, he’d capture the evidence on film and then, depending, probably turn the evidence in to the police. If she was innocent of wrongdoing, he’d have already started the work and he could report back to her all the sooner if he found anything.
He tried to convince himself that he was wasting his time, but there was something about the case that intrigued him. It was a mystery, pure and simple. Not just another divorce case, or even one of the rare situations where he was actually paid to track down someone who ran away from home, but instead there was an actual mystery.
He’d begun to think they only existed in novels. Now, finally, there was something he could sink his teeth into professionally. There was a chance to solve more than a case of wanderlust. Of course the fact that the client was also a looker didn’t exactly hurt, either.
The morning was uneventful and the afternoon looked like more of the same until Christy ran into an acquaintance of hers. The two didn’t seem too excited to see each other. In fact, the man she started talking to looked like he wanted to be almost anywhere else and Christy herself acted as if speaking to him was an effort.
Neil cursed himself for not being able to hear what they were saying. The problem here was simply that he couldn’t get involved, not unless he wanted to blow his cover. He hadn’t thought to bring a targeting microphone with him. If he had, he could have at least gotten some of the conversation. Much as he wanted to know, keeping his target unaware was more important for the moment. Just the same, he took a few pictures.
The body language and attitudes that flashed between the two of them said they were having a polite argument. The situation changed when Christy stormed away from the man, who then refused to follow her, despite the expression on his face that said he wanted to.
Ex-boyfriend? Acquaintance who owed money to Christy or vice versa? There were too many variables. He was just getting ready to set down the camera and follow Christy when he saw the figure slip across the street, moving fast and low to the ground, like a pack of squirrels trained for commando attacks. Whatever it was, it had no set shape, but moved with a strange undulating motion that had nothing to do with stealth.
Neil sat up straighter and aimed his camera, trying to capture the strange patch of darkness as it blurred across the street, but the thing was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. The only proof he had that anything was there was purely objective: a car on the road swerved slightly as the black field slipped over the pavement, a no doubt purely reflexive reaction from the driver who caught the thing from the corner of her eye.
Neil watched on, slowly recovering from the sudden appearance, and looked for Christy. He spotted her a moment later, almost out of easy following range, heading for the common on the other side of the campus.
He didn’t want to risk being seen, but on the other hand he really didn’t have much choice if he was going to follow her properly. With a groan of disgust, he got out of his car and locked the doors.
Even as he walked, he was on the phone again, speed dialing the number and waiting with the barest shred of patience for an answer.
After seven rings, a very sleepy Ray finally picked up. “If this isn’t an emergency, I’m gonna have to hurt someone.”
“Ray, try to get up at a reasonable hour and I won’t have to wake you every time I call.”
“It’s not even noon.”
“Dude, seriously, get a real life.”
“I set my own hours.”
“Set better ones. I need you.”
There was a pause for a moment while Ray contemplated the benefits of a few hours of legitimate work as opposed to the same hours spent in bed. In the long run, there wasn’t much of a contest. One call to his sister about Ray not being willing to work, and Ray would be in extremely deep water with his better half. He was a photographer and he made money, but he seldom made enough to pay the bills. Now and then Neil needed extra help, and he got to help his sister and her husband out at the same time. It worked well for everyone.
“Fine.” The voice was resigned to the unpleasant notion of having to earn a living. “Where are you?”
He gave Ray explicit directions, which he knew from experience Ray would follow. His sister had married a lazy man, but not a stupid one.
Ray showed up fifteen minutes later, dressed as a college student should be, which, considering the fact that the man still took an occasional class, was absolutely perfect. He didn’t seem overly thrilled.
“I was having a killer dream about being stuck on an island with Kate from ‘Lost.’”
“That sort of dream is the kind of thing that can be used against you in a court of law and therefore should never be mentioned.”
“I would never leave your sister.”
“Just as well, because she’d cut your balls off and then kill you.”
“Which is why I would never leave your sister,” he responded in a bad Groucho Marx voice.
“I need you to tail someone for me.”
“I hate that shit and you know it.”
“Yes, I know you do.” He pulled out a candid shot of Christy that he’d taken earlier. The picture was small as it was still on his camera, but it was enough to make the point clear.
“Okay, maybe I won’t mind so much this time.”
“See, you keep saying shit like that, and you know I’ll hold it against you one of these days.”
“I have to trust in your ability to know when to keep your mouth shut.”
“You’re married to my sister.”
“Who would never consider paying you to spy on me.”
“Good point.” Neil sighed. “Look, just tail her for a while. Keep her in your sights, and if you happen to get close enough to hear her talking to other people, all the cooler. I have to run back to the office and get a few things I should have gotten earlier.” He handed Ray a small bundle of supplies, including one of his camera pens. Ray looked at the thing like it might bite him but took it. Ray was a photographer by trade. He considered spy cameras about as useful as whoopee cushions.
“You could have had me pick them up.”
Neil rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t trust you with half of my equipment any more than you’d trust me with your cameras.”
“Okay. Got me on that one.”
“Go, hunt, and find out what I need to know. Then I can tell you why I took on a case for almost no money.”
“Okay, that might be worth it alone.” Ray looked both ways and crossed the street, heading for the main quad on the other side of the closest building.
Neil sat still for a few more minutes and contemplated exactly why he had, in fact, taken on a case where he was guaranteed to lose money. In the long run, he decided it was simple curiosity. He wanted to know what the shadow thing was, one way or another.
By the time he’d gone back to his offices and grabbed the m
icrophones and long range cameras he wanted, the ambulances were in place and the crime scene tape was covering half of the campus.
A deep dread filled Neil. An irrational fear that somehow Ray had gotten himself hurt by whatever the hell was stalking and killing young women in Black Stone Bay sent ripples of ice water through his body.
Neil climbed from his car and moved as casually as he could toward the scene.
Danny Holdstedter and his partner, Boyd, were both on the scene. Danny nodded toward him and warned him away with a shake of his head. Boyd, the man in charge of the crime scene, cast a look at him and dismissed him without expression. Whatever was going down, it had to be a bad case. Normally the two men were notorious for their gallows humor. Of course, he’d never actually dealt with them when they were on the scene of a murder before. That was what they specialized in. The two of them were in charge of virtually every questionable death that came to Black Stone Bay and they kept their positions because they were very, very good at what they did.
Ray showed up a few minutes later, shaking his head as he stood on the other side of the yellow tape.
Neil walked over to his brother-in-law without crossing the line and looked at him expectantly.
The man shook his head. “It’s bad. Can’t talk right now. Meet me at the Chowder Pot.” Neil nodded and left the area. He took his time and knew as surely as he knew his name, that Danny would have words for him later.
He spent four hours at the Chowder Pot waiting for his brother-in-law. The Chowder Pot was one of those restaurants that seemed to stay in business despite the odds. He’d never been in the place when it was busy, and yet, it served some of the best seafood he’d ever run across and the prices were reasonable. He was nursing his third mug of clam chowder when Ray finally showed up, looking a little scared and very, very tired.
“You said you know those cops?”
“Yeah, Ray. I went to school with the blond one.”
“Yeah? He’s a dick.”
Neil didn’t feel much like arguing the point. “What did he do?”
“Kept me answering the same questions about a thousand times.”
This is Halloween Page 20
