Revenge of Innocents

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Revenge of Innocents Page 8

by Nancy Taylor Rosenberg


  “I don’t give up,” Marcus said. “You might as well get used to it.”

  When Carolyn hung up, she felt an infusion of energy and strength. Simply hearing his voice helped chase away the demons. She placed her computer notebook and a stack of case files inside her briefcase, locked up the office, and headed to her car in the parking lot.

  As the chilly night air engulfed her, her thoughts returned to Veronica. She and Drew had been high school sweethearts. Like all couples, they’d had their share of problems over the years, but there was never any doubt that they loved each other. And even if Jude was difficult, Stacy, Peter, and Michael loved and depended on their mother. How could a person kill herself when she was surrounded by love? Mental illness maybe, but Veronica hadn’t been that far gone. She might have been overwhelmed enough to take shortcuts in her work, yet there was no indication that she’d been paranoid or delusional.

  Carolyn experienced an eerie sensation. She stared up at the windows of the jail. Ever since they’d built the complex, she’d hated it. Housing inmates in such close proximity to the people who prosecuted and punished them was a recipe for disaster. She saw the outline of the prisoners’ bodies. Depending on where she parked, they could make out what kind of car she was driving, and during the day, even read the license plate.

  Because she’d returned from the PD when the courts were in session, the only available parking spot was in a back corner of the lot, next to a row of tall palm trees. She heard a sound behind her, but when she turned around she didn’t see anything. A strong wind had kicked in, whipping her hair into her face. What she’d heard had to be blowing leaves and other debris.

  Carolyn could barely see her car it was so dark. She caught a glimpse of her red Infiniti and started walking toward it when a hard pointed object jabbed her in the back. At first she thought it was a branch that had fallen off one of the trees. A second later, she realized it was the barrel of a gun.

  A deep voice said, “Don’t move or turn around.”

  She ran a few feet, then got tangled up in her feet and fell. What appeared to be a man’s shoe came down on the right side of her face.

  Carolyn’s hands were free, but she couldn’t move her head. All she could see was the man’s shadow on the pavement, but she could tell the majority of his weight was on his left leg. If she could hit him hard enough at the back of his knee, he would topple and she might be able to escape.

  As she began to raise her arm, he stomped on it. “Help!” she screamed now that he’d moved his foot off her face. “Police! Call the—”

  “Shut the fuck up!”

  Carolyn’s purse was no longer on her arm. She had no idea how far away it had landed. She patted the ground with her hand, desperate to find her gun.

  “I told you not to move, bitch!”

  There was something distinctive about his voice. Did she know him? Was it an accent? It sounded muffled, as if he was speaking through a handkerchief or scarf. Then again, there was something about his voice that seemed mechanical, like an automated voice or someone talking to you over a speakerphone.

  “I warned you to stay out of this. Now I have to kill you.”

  The noise from the gunshot was deafening.

  Carolyn waited for the bullet to sear its way into her flesh. Nothing happened.

  “Where’d he go?” a voice called out from a distance.

  Feet slapped against the pavement. The sounds got louder, then stopped. Brad’s face loomed over her. He knelt down on one knee, gasping as he tried to catch his breath. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m not sure,” Carolyn said, the panic returning. What if the bullet had severed her spine? That could be why she didn’t feel anything. “Did he shoot me?”

  “We have to get out of here,” Brad said, yanking her to her feet. “He may still be around. Stay down.”

  They bent over at the waist and weaved in and out between the cars until they came to Brad’s black Viper. Except for the custom paint on the exterior, the car looked as if it had been driven off the showroom floor. Brad had modified it for the racetrack, however, but occasionally drove it to work. Fixing cars up and selling them was one of the ways he supplemented his income. He hit the button on the key fob and unlocked the doors, then shoved Carolyn inside. As soon as he fired up the big engine, he tossed his cell phone to her.

  “Call 911. The suspect didn’t return my fire, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t armed. Tell them to have two or three units roll code. They can find the spot if they look for your red Infiniti.”

  Carolyn made the call, then disconnected. “My purse. I have to go back for my purse. He can find my address, and my gun is in there.”

  “Only an idiot would stop to pick up your purse.” Brad stomped on the accelerator and sped out of the parking lot. He raced down a side street, then took a sharp right into an alley. “Call the PD back and have someone meet us over here. If Mary Stevens or Hank is on duty, get one or both of them to respond. Whoever attacked you must be the bastard who killed Veronica.”

  Carolyn’s face and arm were throbbing. The strange feeling she’d experienced after she’d heard the gunshot must have been numbness. Either that or raw fear. She looked around, but she hadn’t been paying attention. She didn’t have time to put on her seat belt, and she’d been jostled around inside Brad’s speeding car. “Where we are?”

  “We’re in the alley behind S. Hill Road.” He stopped the car and turned off the ignition. “The house numbers are on the trash cans. Shit, I can’t read them. Wait, I’ve got it. It looks like 954. Tell them I’m driving a black Viper with a yellow racing stripe. They can’t miss it.” Once she completed the second call, he asked her, “Did you get a good look at the guy?”

  “Not with his shoe in my face,” Carolyn told him, messaging her arm. “Promise me you won’t say anything to Marcus. He was pressuring me to quit my job even before Veronica was murdered.”

  “Now you know why I’m single,” Brad said. “Tell him he can’t have you all to himself. We need you. You better make sure you know what you’re getting into, Carolyn. This guy sounds selfish.”

  “Because he doesn’t want me to get hurt?” she argued. “That’s ridiculous. Marcus is one of the most generous men I’ve ever known.”

  “Hey, just remember I warned you. Rich men have a tendency to be demanding. You’ve been on your own for a long time. I can’t picture you kissing up to any guy. Well, me maybe, but I’m not in the running.”

  “God, am I going to have a bruise on my face?” She reached for the visor, thinking it had a mirror, then remembered that the Viper wasn’t a luxury car.

  “Let me take a look at you.” He turned on the interior light, then placed his finger under her chin.

  They were so close, Carolyn could feel his warm breath on her face. At one time, they had loved each other. He linked eyes with her, cleared his throat, and then turned away. “You’re going to feel like a train wreck tomorrow, but you’ll be fine. If there’s a bruise, you can cover it with makeup.”

  “You saved my life.”

  “Don’t humor me,” Brad told her. “As a marksman, I suck. I don’t think I could have hit the guy if he’d been standing a foot away wearing a neon target. I got terrible news from the doctor the other day.”

  “My God, are you sick? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want anyone to know.”

  Carolyn put her hand on his shoulder. “Please, Brad, I’m your friend. You don’t have some kind of disease, God forbid.”

  “I need glasses.”

  Carolyn knew him well enough to know he wasn’t joking. “Do you realize how incredibly vain you sound? You’re forty years old. Since you don’t seem to realize it, youth doesn’t last a lifetime. A few years down the line, and you’ll need a lot more than glasses.”

  His eyes expanded. “Not Viagra.”

  Carolyn laughed. “You guys finally have something to be embarrassed about now. Women have been trying to be somet
hing we aren’t for years. We’ve worn push-up bras, false eyelashes, fake hair, and that was before women closed out their Christmas accounts and spent the money on plastic surgery. Why won’t you need Viagra, Brad? I want to hear this one.”

  “I just won’t,” he said, a stubborn look on his face. “You’ve slept with me. Do you think a guy like me would ever need Viagra? I’m a machine, man. I’ll never lose it. My dad’s still going strong and he’s almost eighty. Men in my family don’t have those kinds of problems.”

  “Someone just tried to kill me, and you’re worried about glasses and Viagra. Give me a break, Brad.”

  They saw the headlights of a vehicle. “Call the PD and see if that’s them behind us,” he said. “We’re a sitting duck if it’s the guy who jumped you.”

  Before Carolyn could punch in the numbers, Hank Sawyer pulled up alongside them in his unmarked unit, speaking to them through the open window. Even now that he’d slimmed down, he still sat in the car the way a heavy man would, spread out and slouched. After they told him what had transpired, she said, “His voice sounded strange, Hank.”

  “In what way?”

  “At first I thought I knew him. Now I’m not sure. His voice was muffled, as if he were trying to disguise it. I thought I heard some kind of accent.”

  “From where?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, feeling foolish that she couldn’t remember more. “I was scared, okay? You start counting seconds when someone says they’re going to kill you.”

  Brad leaned over in front of her. “He booked as soon as I squeezed off a round. I don’t think the guy had a gun, or he would have returned my fire. He may have poked her with his finger or a stick. If he hadn’t mentioned the letter, I would have pegged him as a purse snatcher.”

  Carolyn thought for a moment. “He didn’t actually mention the letter. He said, ‘I warned you to stay out of this. Now I have to kill you.’”

  “That’s close enough,” Hank said. “It doesn’t mean he’s our killer, though, just the guy who sent you the letter.” He tossed a large black object through the open window. “One of the patrol units found your purse under a pickup in the parking lot. When are you going to start wearing your shoulder holster? Carrying your gun in your purse is worthless. You might as well not have one.”

  “I’m a supervisor now,” Carolyn told him. “Unless someone goes on a shooting rampage in the office, I have no reason to protect myself.”

  “Oh, I see,” Hank said, pissed. “Like you didn’t need a gun tonight. You could have shot him, Carolyn, and saved us from having to track him down. If you don’t start looking out for yourself, you’ll end up at the morgue with your friend.”

  Carolyn put her hands over her ears. “Enough, for God’s sake!”

  “Lay off, Hank,” Brad said. “She’s exhausted and emotional. I wouldn’t even have had my gun on me if I wasn’t taking it home to clean it.”

  Hank told Carolyn to file a report with the patrol officer at the scene, then took off.

  “He’s upset because he doesn’t want anything to happen to you,” Brad said as he drove her back to the parking lot.

  When he stopped alongside the patrol unit, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for being there, Brad.”

  “No problem.”

  “By the way, why were you there?”

  Brad laughed. “I forgot where I parked my car. Are you going straight home when you finish here?”

  “Not yet,” Carolyn said. “Hank wants me to sniff out Drew, try to find out if he’s involved. I’m going to swing by the house, check out this young nanny he hired, and see if there’s any news regarding Jude.”

  Brad shook his head in frustration. “You know why you’re always in trouble? Because you go looking for it. For all we know, Drew may be the one who attacked you tonight. Now you’re going to show up on his doorstep. How convenient. Jesus, Carolyn, go home. You can stop by Veronica’s tomorrow. I’ve never seen a woman push herself the way you do. Don’t you ever get any enjoyment out of life?”

  “Whenever I can,” she said. “You risk your life all the time on the racetrack. At least I don’t do it for thrills.”

  “If Drew kills you, don’t call me. I’m going out for drinks with my friends. I’d ask you to come along, but martyrs aren’t that popular.” He held up his cell phone. “I’m turning it off, see? You’re on your own.”

  Carolyn chuckled. “How could I call you if I was dead?”

  “You know what I meant. I saved your scrawny neck, and you’re making fun of me. If the guy had a gun, he could have shot me.”

  “You’ll never grow up, Brad.”

  “Whatever,” he said, burning rubber as he roared off across the parking lot.

  A young patrol officer stepped up beside Carolyn. “I should cite that guy for speeding. He can’t drive like that on the street, let alone a parking lot.”

  “Don’t waste your time.”

  “Why? Because he’s your boss?”

  “Because you’ll never catch him.”

  “I’ve been in a pursuit with a Viper before,” he said. “They’re not that fast.”

  Carolyn smiled. “You don’t know what’s under the hood of this one.”

  Carolyn rang the doorbell for five minutes before someone finally answered. A young girl with long blond hair that covered the right side of her face peered out at her. She looked more like a child than an eighteen-year-old. “I’m a friend of the family,” Carolyn said. “You must be Crystal?”

  “Drew isn’t here,” the girl said in a monotone. “He went to the grocery store. You’ll have to come back later.” She thought a moment, then added, “You should maybe call him. He told me he didn’t want to see anyone right now.”

  “I’ll wait,” Carolyn said, stepping past her into the living room. Crystal was either learning impaired, or there was something else wrong with her. She didn’t make eye contact, and continued standing in the doorway after Carolyn was inside. When she dropped her arms to her side, her hands disappeared inside the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

  The living room looked worse than it had the night before. Beer cans were still scattered across the coffee table, toys thrown everywhere, and there was a large purple stain on the carpet. Michael came running into the room crying. He attached himself to Carolyn’s leg. “My mommy went to heaven, and Daddy says Jude can’t live here anymore. Daddy got mad at me ’cause I spilled my grape juice.”

  Carolyn scooped the four-year-old up in her arms. “It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t cry.” She turned around to look for Crystal. The girl was walking in the direction of the kitchen when she tripped on a toy fire engine. Instead of picking it up, she righted herself and continued walking. Some nanny, she thought. She looked as if she needed someone to look after her instead of the other way around. What in God’s name had Drew been thinking? “Is Jude here, Michael?”

  “Yes,” he said, sniffling.

  Carolyn sat down on the sofa and stroked Michael’s back until he climbed off her lap and went to play with a toy. The situation was tragic, but children were remarkably resilient. She saw a shadowy figure in the hallway. When she went over to see who it was, she realized it was Peter. He also looked as if he’d been crying. His chin was tucked against his chest. “Is Jude in her room?” she asked him.

  Peter shrugged, refusing to answer. Carolyn continued down the hallway. She would have to talk to Drew about getting the kids into counseling right away.

  Other than the room the boys shared, the doors were all shut. She opened the door to Jude’s room, then realized it was the bathroom. Veronica’s daughter was stepping out of the shower.

  “Get the hell out of here!”

  Carolyn gasped. Jude’s body was covered with purplish bruises. She grabbed a towel and covered herself.

  “I’ll be out in a few minutes,” she said. “I thought you were one of the kids. If you can’t wait, use the bathroom in my dad’s room.”

  Carolyn closed th
e door and locked it behind her. She reached over and pulled the towel away, trying to see how badly the girl was injured. “Who did this to you?”

  “I fell, okay?” Jude told her, snatching the towel back. “Can I have some privacy, please? I don’t walk into your bathroom and stare at you when you’re naked. Are you a lesbian or something?”

  “Please, honey, you need medical treatment. If you won’t tell me who did this to you, at least let me help you.”

  “No one can help me,” Jude said, stepping into a pair of jeans and a black long sleeved T-shirt. “I have to be out of the house by the time my father gets back. Now will you leave me alone?”

  “Where are you going to live?” Carolyn asked.

  “On the street, I guess. What difference does it make? My mother’s dead. No one cares what I do, as long as I don’t do it here.”

  “Stay with me,” Carolyn offered. “Please, Jude, I have more than enough room. I was at the hospital when you were born. Rebecca would be thrilled if you stayed with us. We’re living at my fiancé’s house in Santa Rosa and her friends are all in Ventura. Whatever your problems are, I’m certain we can work things out.”

  Jude ran her tongue over her lips. “You got any cash on you?”

  “I can’t just give you money,” Carolyn told her. “If you don’t come with me, I’ll have to notify the authorities.”

  “I’m an adult. I haven’t broken the law. Why don’t you leave while you can? You don’t know anything about me. I’m a freaking loser. If you don’t believe me, ask my father.”

  Carolyn pulled the girl into her arms. “You’re not a loser, sweetheart. I don’t know why your father is doing this, but I’m not leaving until you agree to come with me.”

  Jude placed her hands on Carolyn’s shoulders, shaking as she sobbed. “I just want to die. I can’t take it anymore. He’ll find me wherever I go. I was sure he was going to kill me. I didn’t care. I wanted him to kill me.”

 

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