A Silent Terror

by Lynette Eason

  “He warned us about leaving prints.”

  “What?”

  Alonso nodded. “He made us take off our socks to cover our hands so we wouldn’t leave fingerprints.”

  Ethan explained. “If prints were found on the car and traced back to the boys, most likely they would tell what they knew about the man who hired them.”

  “But he pushed Alonso into the hood of the car before he made them do that.”

  “Which is why his fingerprint was there. And if you hadn’t had the car detailed that day, you never would have thought anything about it.” Scary.

  Ethan drilled Alonso with his gaze. “Do you remember anything at all about this man? Anything?”

  “No, just that he had on a warm-looking leather jacket and a baseball cap pulled down real low. I don’t think I ever saw his face, now that I think about it. And he probably didn’t belong on campus because he didn’t know sign language at all.”

  Marianna jerked as an idea hit her. “Alonso, do you still have that money the guy gave you?”

  Guilt mixed with remorse…and possibly a little relief flashed in his expression. “Yes, I felt so bad I couldn’t spend it.”

  There was hope for the boy, yet, Marianna thought with gratitude.

  Ethan caught her eye and nodded his approval, her heart warmed.

  He said to Alonso, “Show me where it is. Marianna, get me a little plastic bag, will you?”

  Three minutes later, five crisp twenties sat in the see-through bag, ready to be processed at the lab to see what evidence remained.

  THIRTEEN

  Saturday morning found Marianna and Catherina heading for the downtown shops while Alonso confessed his actions to his parents.

  The police had pulled the other two boys in for questioning and Ethan promised to let her know if anything new came up.

  In the meantime, Marianna determined to enjoy herself and see if she could find Joseph a birthday present. Unfortunately, she found it hard to focus, to concentrate on having a good time, when all she could think about were the events of the last two weeks.

  And the fact that her fellow teacher and her ex-boyfriend, Misty and Curt, had once been an item – now that was just plain puzzling. Yet she felt relieved at the same time too. At least now she had an explanation for the woman’s nastiness.

  As she and Catherina exited the small antique store to head down the sidewalk, the hairs on her neck stood up and a shiver danced down her spine. Shifting the strap of her purse a little higher on her shoulder, she glanced back, to the side and up ahead.

  Normal Saturday shoppers milled, spending money, strolling with children. Everything looked line. So why did she feel…nervous? Anticipating danger around every corner? Maybe she should have stayed home.

  Setting her jaw, she refused to cave in to the fear that could take over her life if she allowed it. No, whoever was causing her all these problems would not win, would not take away the independence she’d fought so hard for. Somehow, someway, she’d figure out who was doing this to her and why. Lord, keep your hand on this, please. Put all the pieces together for us. Show us the next step to take in _figuring all this out.

  In the next shop, Marianna tested the scented candles, picking them up and sniffing them, one at a time. Catherina had wandered off to check the birthday cards. When Marianna turned to put the cinnamon-bun scented jar back on the shelf, she caught movement in the mirror above the display.

  She blinked. A man, head bent, studied a rack of antique fishing lures. And he had a ball cap pulled snuggly against his forehead; he also wore a leather jacket. Like the one Alonso had described the night he’d vandalized her car? Coincidence, or was he following her? Did she take a chance on ignoring the guy? Should she just see if he stayed with her or go ahead and put Ethan on the alert?

  Subtly, she pulled out her BlackBerry and sent a text to Ethan. “Am shopping downtown shops with sister. Man in leather jacket and ball cap following me. I think. Can you meet me?”

  Gripping the device, she waited for a response. And waited. While she stood there, pretending to peruse the inventory, the man turned and went out the door. Relaxing a fraction, Marianna decided that maybe she’d overreacted. After all, there was probably more than one person in town who owned a leather jacket and a baseball cap.

  Right?

  Still…she glanced at her screen. Nothing yet from Ethan.

  Catherina walked up holding a T-shirt that said “Kiss the Cook!” and signed, “I’m going to get this for Joseph for his birthday.”

  “Joseph doesn’t cook. What are you thinking?”

  “That he needs to find a woman who does.”

  Chuckling, Marianna turned back to scan the mirror. Still no sight of the man she thought might be following her. And still no response from Ethan. She realized she missed his presence. When he’d been her “copilot” for the trip to Beaufort, she’d thoroughly enjoyed his company. Shivering, she wished he were here now.

  But he wasn’t.

  Ethan tossed down the paper that held Gerald Chambers’s information. Why was this guy so hard to find? Probably because he’d been in the military once upon a time. Not special forces, but still military. Which meant he knew how to take care of himself and stay out of sight unless he wanted to be found.

  Obviously, he didn’t want to be found. The lab had run tests on the money Alonso had given Ethan and come up with nothing but a bunch of prints that would take forever to identify and would probably mean nothing. The police had an APB out on Gerald and had flashed his military ID on the news asking for information, asking him to “stop by” the station. They’ d stressed he wasn’t a suspect, just a person of interest they’ d like to talk to. Ethan wanted to show the picture to Marianna, but she hadn’t returned his text yet.

  As far as viable information on Gerald, there’d been nothing that had panned out. Of course they had the usual crackpot phone callers who think they see a bad guy on every corner, but none of those had been the real deal.

  And they followed up on each and every lead. His boss, Victor, had been adamant about that. He wanted to catch this guy every bit as much as Ethan did. Ethan gave a wry grin. No doubt Joseph was checking in on his baby sister’s case on a regular basis.

  Which was fine with Ethan; he’d have done the same thing if it had been Ashley.…

  He also suspected that Marianna’s case was the main reason Ethan’s boss was in his office this Saturday morning. He’d just come from the man’s office after hashing out the information they had. And it all kept coming back to one man.

  Gerald Chambers. Gerald Chambers. For some reason that name was ringing a bell in his mind. Ethan picked up Gerald’s file and read some more.

  High society, dated a movie star once upon a time. Entered the military against family wishes. Family. That was it. Who was the man’s family?

  A few quick taps on his computer brought up the Internet, and he typed in a search for Gerald Chambers. He’d already done this once, but this time he was looking for something more specific.

  Quite a few pages of information were listed below his search. He clicked and read, clicked and read. Time passed before he found what he was looking for.

  A newspaper article. “Gerald Chambers, son of House of Representatives member Chase Chambers, has been arrested for DUI.

  This comes as a shock to his family, and the senior Mr. Chambers had expressed his disappointment in his son’s activities. A bright political future looks to be in question as talks of rehab centers and AA meetings abound.”

  The article went on to cover Chambers’s military career, where he’d had a few scrapes with the law but nothing major. Then the little note at the bottom caught his attention. “It might be of interest to some that Chase Chambers did a little string pulling to get his son honorably discharged from the army and placed on the campaign committee for Clayton Robertson. It seems Gerald is headed for a career in politics whether he wants one or not.”

  Ethan grunted. No
wonder the guy drank. He could almost feel sorry for the man except for the fact that he broke into Marianna’s home. And the fact that Roland Luck, also part of Clayton Robertson’s political campaign, was dead. Now how did those two facts add up, and what did they have to do with Marianna?

  Because there was no way this was all just a coincidence. He reached for his phone to call Catelyn and slapped empty air.

  What?

  He frowned, glanced around his desk. Nothing.

  Then he remembered he’d gone into Victor’s office to talk for a brief moment. He’d set it on the side table, then walked off without it.

  He got up to get it when his boss appeared in the doorway holding the device. “Hey, O’Hara, this thing’s been going off for the last ten minutes. You want to get it? I was on the phone or I would have brought it out sooner.”

  “Yeah, thanks. No problem.” Ethan took the phone and looked at the screen. Marianna had sent him a text. Clicking on the button, he pulled up her message and read, “Am shopping downtown shops with my sister. Man in leather jacket and ball cap following me. I think.

  Can you meet me?”

  Cold dread settled in the pit of his belly. “Hey, Chief!”

  Marianna continued to shop, keeping an eye out for the man in the baseball cap. So far, so good. Nothing for the last fifteen minutes or so even though she couldn’t shake the feeling she needed to stay on guard. Watch her back.

  And while she enjoyed the time with Catherina, she couldn’t shut off the part of her brain that insisted on going over every detail she could remember about the case. Not to mention the worry about Alonso. True, he seemed genuinely remorseful over his part in the vandalism, yet…

  She sighed, and looked up into the window of the next shop.

  Catherina touched her arm and signed, “I want to go in there. I’ve got an apartment to furnish in a couple of months.”

  “I can’t believe you’re graduating from college already.” She smiled. “Mom and Dad are so proud of you. We all are.”

  Catherina blushed, but the pleased look on her face told Marianna that her words meant a lot. She nodded toward the store. “Go for it.

  I’m going to grab an ice-cream cone.” If she was being followed, she wanted her sister somewhere else. She wouldn’t bring this danger into her life.

  Oblivious to Marianna’s tension, her sister laughed. “Get me one, too.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Catherina disappeared into the store and Marianna turned to walk over to the portable Bruster’s Ice Cream stand. As she ordered the treat, she glanced over her shoulder. Maybe she should have stayed with her sister. The man behind the counter held the cones out and Marianna took them.

  Then something crashed into her back, her feet went out from under her and she let out a scream as the cones went flying to splat on the ground next to her. Pain shot up from her hip to her spine. Her left elbow hit the concrete and agony seared her arm. She felt her purse ripped from her shoulder, saw running feet pounding past her.

  Groaning, she scrambled to her feet, ignoring the aches and pains – and terror – to stumble after the fleeing thief. Then a police car pulled up beside the escaping man and slammed on brakes. The officer – Ethan? – jumped from the vehicle to give chase.

  Marianna hobbled along as fast as her throbbing hip would allow.

  The two men disappeared into a little alley set between two stores.

  Hurrying, she rounded the corner and stopped. Ethan and the thief were locked in combat, each struggling to get the upper hand.

  Marianna had a hard time keeping up with who was who and which fist landed where. Ethan pushed the guy off him, and the man landed on several metal trash cans. Even Marianna’s hearing aids picked up the screeching clanging.

  A man in an apron stepped out the back door of his restaurant kitchen, flying pan in hand, held as a weapon, to investigate the ruckus. Catching sight of the action before him, with eyes wide, the heavyset chef turned to scuttle back in, but before he disappeared, Marianna grabbed the flying pan from his hand. He offered no protests as he slammed the door.

  She turned back to the battling duo and stepped forward, terror racing through her veins, making her shake. She held the cast-iron handle with a death grip and prayed out loud, “Lord, help me, please.”

  When she focused on the man trying to beat Ethan to a pulp, she had a flash of recognition. She’d seen him somewhere before.

  Then the knife caught her full attention.

  Ethan reached for his gun but didn’t have time to grab it because he had to defend himself against the attacker’s rush, knife held out in front of him. Ethan stepped away. The man jabbed again, slicing through shirt and forearm. She saw Ethan grimace, the blood rushing down his arm. He ignored it and set his feet to brace himself for the next attack.

  Both men seemed to have forgotten her presence.

  As the attacker rushed past her, she brought the flying pan up as hard as she could, aiming for his face, but her blow was off, instead catching the outstretched hand carrying the knife.

  Where was his backup? Adrenaline flowed as Ethan scrambled after the perp. His arm throbbed mercilessly. Then a solid thud echoed in his ears, followed by a crunching sound, a scream of pain and the knife spinning through the air to land some thirty feet behind him.

  He scrambled for his gun, then realized he didn’t have to. Six officers had their weapons trained on the perp, who lay on the ground, grasping his broken wrist, screeching in agony. The ball cap

  had flown off in the attack, revealing a face Ethan recognized in an instant.

  Panting, Ethan made his way over to the man and pulled both arms, wounded or not, behind his back. The groaning and screaming increased, but Ethan was more worried about the damage the man might still be able to inflict than a broken wrist. Especially if he was high on some drug, although the fact that the guy was feeling pain indicated there were no mind-altering substances flowing through his veins.

  Except maybe alcohol. He only now just got a whiff. The man reeked of the stuff. Ethan motioned for his backup to haul Gerald off to the squad car, where they’ d wait for an ambulance to come. Even bad guys got medical attention before they had to go to jail. Through gritted teeth, Ethan read him his Miranda rights: “You have the right to remain silent. If you choose to give up that right…”

  One of the officers took over, pulling the guy to the waiting paramedics. As for himself, he’d get his arm taken care of, then head down the station to question Gerald. He had so many questions burning through his brain that he needed the space to organize them.

  “Ethan, are you all right?” Marianna’s worried voice cut through the haze of pain coming from his arm.

  He grimaced. “Yeah.” He gestured toward the man. “That’s Gerald Chambers.”

  A puzzled frown crossed her face as she studied the man, then she shook her head, turning her focus back on Ethan. “You need to get that patched up. Come on, I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

  One of the other officers walked up, and the annoyed expression on the man’s face put Ethan on guard. When the cop turned to Marianna, Ethan paid attention. “Nice job with the flying pan, ma’am, but we were right there with our guns drawn. Should have let us do our job.”

  Marianna bit her lower lip and swallowed hard. “I didn’t know you were there.”

  Disbelief cut across the policeman’s face. “I hollered at you to move. You were in the line of fire.”

  Ethan stepped up. “She’s deaf, Joel. Lay off.”

  Marianna felt slightly sick. Wanting nothing more than to go home and pull the covers up over head and hibernate for the next twenty-four hours, she gathered her courage, her nerves…and her independence.

  Coolly, she glared at the two men standing before her. To the cop she said, “Don’t worry about it. You couldn’t have known.” To Ethan she said, “And you didn’t need to pipe in and tell the man I’m deaf.

  I’m perfectly capable of explaining
that myself.”

  When Ethan’s jaw dropped at her dressing-down, it didn’t make her feel better necessarily, but she had to make him understand she didn’t need a keeper. Sure, she knew she needed help in this whole mess, but some things she could – and would – handle herself. “Now, would you like a ride to the emergency room?”

  His jaw snapped shut. “Yeah.”

  As they walked out of the alley and onto the sidewalk, they passed the ambulance where Gerald sat receiving medical treatment for his wrist. She stopped, stared at him, read his lips almost absentmindedly as he whined his innocence, complaining he’d been attacked and wanted to file a police report.

  Marianna bit her lip and chewed for a moment until a warm, if dusty, linger pulled it from between her teeth. Startled, she looked at Ethan, who stared at her with a warm look in his eyes. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

  Previous irritation melted, as did her heart. “If I’d known those policemen were behind me, I’d have moved out of the way and cowered in the corner instead.”

  He laughed. “I doubt you would have cowered, but the fact that you were willing to jump in and help…well, that says a lot. Thanks.”

  “Sure.” The pitter-patter of her heart and the mushy sensation settling in the pit of her stomach goaded her to action. With both hands, she reached up and cupped Ethan’s face. His eyes flared in surprise then turned smoky as he realized what she was going to do. He met her halfway and his lips landed on hers with sweet intent. Marianna reveled in the sensations sweeping through her. Then she pulled back and smiled. “Now we can go to the hospital.” She turned back to the man who’d tried to do her bodily harm – again. And she studied him.

  Ethan nudged her. “Hey, I’m ready for that ride and I might need another kiss.”

  She grinned at him and blushed, then narrowed her eyes and said, “I know him.”

  “What?”

  “I think I know that man. Or at least I’ve seen him somewhere before.”