by Randy Rawls
“Wrong,” I said, giving him a nudge with the Walther. “I changed it. It’s Snodbucket now. Agree?”
In the rearview mirror, I saw his mouth open, but before he could speak, Dot cut in, “You better say yes. I done told you she’s mean. I don’t want to get your brains all over me. And I know for shore she’ll blow your head off. I seen her do it before.”
Strudnocker nodded.
“Good,” I said. “Now, Snodbucket, here’s the deal. My name is Beth Bowman. My mother is Sandra Bowman. As you know, she’s inside my house, visiting with me. She came to Florida because you were stalking her in Texas. Now you’re here.” I paused. “Am I right about you stalking her?”
“Uh …”
Another nudge with the Walther.
“I … ah … I …”
He seemed to have lost his voice so I decided to help him. “Stalking. Mom calls it stalking. I call it stalking. Dot calls it stalking.” I looked toward Dot.
“Beth and her mama’s right. When you follow a woman around, it’s stalking. Ain’t no argument about that.”
“See, Snodbucket, we’re all in agreement here. It’s time to nod.”
He nodded.
I dug the barrel into his C3 vertebra. “I’m sure you noticed what happened to your window. Instead of shooting you, suppose I just crack you with my little hammer hard enough to shatter you right here.” I nudged the vertebra again. “Probably wouldn’t kill you, but you’d be a vegetable. Right?”
After only a brief hesitancy, his head went up and down.
“Good. I think you’re getting the message. Now, we’re nearing the end of the trail. In a few minutes, Dot and I will get out of the car, and you will drive away. You’ll go straight to the airport, turn in your rental, and fly home to Texas. Upon arrival, you’ll forget where the city of Richardson is and that you ever heard of my mother. Do you understand?”
The nod came faster that time.
“Give me your driver’s license. But do it real, real slow. The sweat on my trigger finger is making things slippery here.”
He moved with the speed of a sloth and produced his wallet, which he held over the seat back.
“No. Take out the license. Don’t want you to think I’d take your money or credit cards.”
“I would,” Dot said. “I could use a new do. How much ya got?”
“Now, Dot,” I said. “No fair. This is a not-for-profit operation. It’s only to help a stalker before he gets himself hurt.”
Strudnocker produced his license and handed it over.
“I see you live in Greenville,” I said, keeping the pistol tight against his hairline. “If you lived in Richardson, you’d have a new problem.”
He didn’t respond. Probably because I was imprinting circles on the back of his neck.
I continued, “With the housing market as bad as it is these days, I’d hate for you to have to sell your house.” I sighed. “Greenville’s not as far from Richardson as I’d like, but I bet you know the roads good enough to go anyplace you want without ever crossing into Richardson. If you have to go north, you’ll bypass my mother’s town. Right?” I nudged.
He nodded.
“Fine. We’re almost finished here. Last words. If I hear that you have bothered my mother again, I will come to Texas, track you down, and kill you. But first, I will castrate you and watch you bleed out. When they bury you, there’ll be no proof you’re a man. You can spend purgatory looking for what you men pride the most.”
“He ain’t no man, honey,” Dot said. “He might carry the equipment, but a real man don’t stalk women.”
“Good point, Dot. What say you, Snodbucket?”
“I’ll be travelin’ with her,” Dot said. “Ain’t no way I’d miss a show like that.”
“Judging from your color, Snodbucket, you seem to have grasped my seriousness.” The rearview mirror reflected a man whose face resembled the fungus that too often grows in my refrigerator.
“Yeah, he’s looking awful green,” Dot said. “He better not throw up on me.”
“He wouldn’t dare. Would you, Snodbucket?”
Head shake.
I copied his address, then dropped his license over his shoulder. “You’ll need this at the airport. Don’t lose it. But remember what we talked about. I know where you live.” For emphasis, I gave him a sharp rap on the head with the barrel of my pistol, just enough for a headache to reinforce what I’d said. “When you turn this car in, you might want to tell them you found it like this when you got back to it in a parking lot. Happens all the time in Florida. You can even make a few bucks by coming up with a list of stolen property.”
I slipped out the back door as Dot exited the front. When I tapped on his front window, he spun my way. I gave him a big smile and a wind-it-up motion. He didn’t need a second encouragement. He was gone in a squeal of tires.
Dot and I giggled like two teenagers as we made our way to my car.
“That was one scared dude,” Dot said. “I swear I never seen nobody can turn mean like you. When you git that way, you even scare me.”
“It’s an act, only an act. Actually, I’m just a harmless putty-tat.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And speaking of which, I’d better let Mom know everything is all right. She’ll be wondering what happened to us.” I started toward my house.
“Uh, Beth,” Dot said. “You really want to go up there. She just gonna want to come with us again. I mean, I still got that idea, and it don’t call for her to be with us. And, it can’t wait, it needs to be done now.”
“Um, good point,” I said. “I love her, but she can be a bit … uh …”
“I unnerstand. She’s your mother, and mothers love their daughters. But she needs to know ’bout Snodbucket. You can call her.”
“That’s what I’ll do. I’ll ring her as soon as we get out of here. I don’t think it could happen, but Snodbucket might recover his courage and call the cops.”
“Ain’t much chance of that. That man might be halfway to Texas by now. Bet he can’t make his foot let up on that gas pedal. Pro’bly forgot all about the airport.”
We enjoyed another laugh at his expense as I dug out my cell phone and dialed Mom.
When I said I’d call her, I expected a frantic woman to answer the phone. I expected a mother filled with admiration for her daughter who had rescued her from evil. I expected a woman released from fear. Guess I should have called someone else.
“Oh, that’s good,” Mom said when I told her she could relax because her stalker was on his way to Texas and out of her life forever. “I knew you’d take care of him. And even if you couldn’t, Ike would. He’ll be here tomorrow, you know?”
“Tomorrow?” I echoed like a parrot. It was news to me.
“Oh, yes. I called him a bit ago. He said he had a ticket. He’s taking the same flight I took.” She went on in a more hesitant voice. “If you don’t need my help anymore—I mean, Dot can help you, can’t she—Ike and I are going to Orlando. We want to spend a few days hitting the theme parks—Disney, Universal Studios, Epcot. It’ll be such fun to share them with someone my age.” Her voice had grown in confidence as she got closer to the my age part.
Several questions popped into my mind, but I decided to leave them there. After all, she was old enough to live her own life. Things like sleeping arrangements were none of my business.
“You and Ike go and have fun with my blessings,” I said. “I hope I can see him before he leaves Florida though.”
twenty-three
He dropped onto the couch in the living room, leaned his head back, and blew out a long breath. “I’m tired. It’s tough following people around all night and not getting caught.”
“It wasn’t all night. It was only a few hours. What did you discover?”
“There were three of them
, all women. Two stayed in the car while one worked the street and knocked on doors. She was a weird-looking bitch. Like something out of a movie about bums and hoboes. The driver was the same person I saw at the soccer field picking up the envelope. I’m sure of that. Never got a good look at the other one. Far as I could tell, they didn’t have a plan. Just moved from neighborhood to neighborhood. Three stops along the way.”
He held out a piece of paper. “The top line is the license number of the car she drove. Below that is the address where the third woman got out. About all I could tell was she had some mileage on her. I don’t mean old-old, but no spring chicken, either.”
“Where’d they go after dropping her off?”
“Beats me. Far as I could tell, they hadn’t made me. I figured I should leave well enough alone and head back here. Can you run the plate and the address?”
“Not a problem. You did a good job tonight. Get some rest. By the time you get up in the morning I’ll know everything there is to know about her. If she ever bought a pair of shoes on the Internet, I’ll have her shoe size. And I’ll know the same about whoever lives at that address. Cyberspace is a wonderful place—unless you want to stay hidden.”
He chuckled. “You sure are a whiz with the keyboard. Yeah, I think I will get some rest. Been a long day. Soon’s I get a beer, I’m headed for bed.” He stood and arched his back in a big stretch. “How’s the kid?”
“Asking when her folks are coming home. I told her they should pick her up next week. She seemed to accept that. Guess she’s been left with babysitters before.”
“Did she ask about school—why she’s not going?”
“Yeah, but I told her it was out this week—teachers’ holiday.”
He smiled. “That could happen. See you in the morning.” He headed toward the kitchen.
_____
While I spoke to Mom on the phone, Dot and I reached my car and crawled in. I felt good, good that Mom would be out of my hair for a few days and good that I’d been able to solve her problem. I sure wasn’t making any headway on mine—finding Ashley. Then I remembered Dot mentioning an idea. “Okay, let’s hear it. What’s the brainstorm you came up with?”
Dot twisted in the seat to face me. “You might not like it, but it’s a good way to find out if that little girl is in one of them houses. That’s what you want, ain’t it?”
“Yes,” I said, wondering where she was heading. We’d already spent a couple of hours with each house and come up empty.
“I know how to find out. It can’t miss, works ev’ry time.”
I stared at her, not doubting her, but trying to guess her plan. When nothing surfaced, I said, “How?”
“Garbage. Ev’rything you ever need to know about a house is in the trash. All I got to do—”
“You’re talking about dumpster-diving, aren’t you?” I was so incredulous my voice had jumped into falsetto. “I don’t want to do that.”
“Why not?” Dot said, defiance in her eyes. “I done a whole lot worse. And who said anythang about you? You just drive. I wouldn’t expect you to mess up your purdy manicure. Hell, you could even break a nail or get one stinky.”
Oops, I’d crossed a line, and it was time to hop back over. “I’m sorry, Dot. I didn’t mean it that way.” I hesitated. “I just meant, is this something we really want to do?”
“I told you,” Dot said, her voice still not normal. “Just drive the dang car, and I’ll do the diving. The answer’s in the garbage.”
“That’s not what I mean.” I could see Dot’s back was up and probably wasn’t coming down anytime soon. More discussion followed, but Dot was determined. The more she talked and the more I listened, the more convinced I became she was right. If there was a five-year-old in the house, the garbage held the evidence. However, there was no way I could let Dot go by herself. If someone called the cops, she’d be in handcuffs in a flash. If I were along, my PI license would cut us some slack—maybe. It might slow the police down long enough for me to tell them I worked for Chief Elston. And throwing John Hammonds’ name around should carry some weight, too.
It took another ten minutes before Dot gave in and agreed I could go with her—as long as I did exactly what she said. What she said was, “You better be damn careful ’round the back of them houses. Don’t go knockin’ no cans over or bangin’ ’em togther. Ain’t no way nobody will think it’s cats.” She said it with a great deal of reluctance in her voice, but I might have seen a smile try to creep through.
I vowed to make up for her hurt feelings later. In the meantime, I thought her rule was perfect. My dumpster-diving experience was nil. I’d raided a few paper recycling bins, but never searched a garbage can. It was her show.
_____
Three hours later, I drove toward Bobby’s Bar. Dot’s thoroughness had given me a whole new appreciation for those who man the garbage trucks every day. In my newfound appreciation, they were unsung heroes on a level with soldiers, police officers, firemen, teachers, and others who go above and beyond. I vowed to call them Sanitation Engineers from that day forth. They deserved a special title.
It only took one experience for me to learn not to have my head over the can when I yanked the lid off. That single burst of South Florida sun-baked garbage stench almost knocked me off my feet while Dot stood by and laughed. From then on, it was reach as far as I could, keep my head turned, hold my breath, and lift. I supposed it was something I could use on my resume if I got desperate enough. However, I never intended to get that desperate. I might admire the Sanitation Engineers, but I had no intention of ever joining them.
Other than the education, though, it was a wasted effort. If one of the houses held a five-year-old girl, the garbage didn’t reflect it. No pizza boxes, no juice cartons, no macaroni and cheese containers. Not even a chocolate chip cookie box.
On the way to the bar, both of us were quiet. I don’t know what was in Dot’s mind, but mine was numb. I had been so sure one of the three—Lively-Wesler, Sabastion, or Stevenson—was the kidnapper. During the drive, I accepted that I had nothing to hang that notion on except simply wishing it. But I had hung my expectations on it, and they were smashed.
There was always the possibility I was right and the guilty person had Ashley stashed some other place. If so, he or she would have to go back and forth. I perked up a bit. Maybe I could get some of my homeless friends to keep an eye on the houses. It might be one of them yet.
Dot suggested, and I concurred, that I stay in Bob’s dorm the rest of the night. I was down and dog-tired, but wired, like I’d spent the night at Starbucks instead of absorbing garbage smells. I didn’t want to go home and face Mom. I had had enough failures in one twenty-four-hour period—well, if you didn’t count my encounter with Strudnocker. In spite of how I felt, I smiled, remembering his hasty departure.
After showering long enough to get the South Florida water police after me, I crammed the clothes I’d worn into a plastic bag, tied it tight, then put that one into another bag. I hadn’t decided whether to try to clean them or find a fire hot enough to incinerate them. Of course, the latter could get the EPA regulators after me for polluting the atmosphere.
I assumed Dot was as exhausted as I when I lay on the cot next to her. There was time for a few hours sleep before I needed to head back to Hammonds’ with the hopes that something new—and good—had happened.
I closed my eyes. A garbage can appeared, and I smelled its unique aroma. My eyes popped open. I closed them again. Strudnocker’s fear-filled face appeared. My eyes popped open. The third time produced a picture of Ashley, holding out her arms. I sat up. No way I could sleep.
“Somethin’ wrong?” Dot said.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Wake me? Dearie, I ain’t been asleep. My head just refuses to shut down. All I can think of is that sweet little girl out there with them nasty peo
ple. Nah, ain’t no sleep in me.”
“Me either. Dot, I feel like I’m in a dark room and can’t find the light switch. I know it’s there, but I can’t even touch a wall.”
“You thinking too hard. Prob’ly need to get your mind off it for a while. You be surprised what you can think of when you ain’t thinking about it.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, you know what I mean.”
There didn’t seem to be anything to say to that so I didn’t say anything. Neither did Dot.
Dot’s bed squeaked, and I sensed she had turned toward me. When her lamp came on, I saw I was right.
“I meant to ask you earlier. Did you have somebody backin’ you last night?”
“Huh?” Damn, not understanding was getting to be a habit. “What do you mean? I didn’t have anyone except you—well, and Mom.”
“Shit. I might be wrong, but I shore thought I saw somebody.”
That sat me up. “Who? When?” My mind flew to Bannon and Sargent. Had those bastards put someone on my tail in spite of the warnings from Hammonds.
Dot swung around and put her feet on the floor. “I can’t be shore. It was after I did the third house. As I made my way back to where you parked, I saw a car about a block behind you. It had dark windows, and I don’t know but my gut said there was a man in the front seat all scrunched down. As I thought about it, my mind remembered there might have been a car at the second house, too. Nothing that really stood out, just a feeling—if you know what I mean.”
“What about the first house?”
Dot shrugged. “No idea. I squeezed on it, but there was nothing about the first stop I remember.”
“So, why didn’t you mention it then?”
“I was going to, but when I got to the car, your mom was talkin’ a mile a minute, and it slipped my mind. Then we got all wrapped around with her boyfriend, and it went plumb away. I reckon getting my head off it caused it to come back. Like I said before, not remembering is sometimes the best way to remember.”
