by Sharon Pape
We got out of my car after she passed us. Travis hung back, pretending to inspect one of the tires. “Hi, Lena,” I called to her. She turned her head as I ran to catch up.
“Oh, hi,” she said, coming to a stop. “You’re Kailyn Wilde. You came to interview the CP, right?”
“Yes, the day of your shower.”
“I’m sorry, but if you want to make another appointment with Mr. Epps, you’ll have to call or come back tomorrow. The building is locked for the night.”
“No, I was actually hoping you could help me with another matter.”
“Oh…okay, if I can.”
“There’s a guy we’ve seen riding a motorcycle around the New Camel area and I was wondering if you knew his name.”
“Why would I know some random biker’s name?” she asked.
“Because you’ve been lending him your uncle Austin’s Harley.” There was an immediate change in her demeanor. She stiffened and had trouble looking me in the eye. She was probably trying to assess how much I knew and what she could say to put me off without digging herself into a deeper hole. “There’s something else you may not know. The guy has a dark side. He forced his way into my house, wearing a ski mask and threatened me with a knife.”
“If he was wearing a ski mask, how do you know it was the biker?” she asked, no doubt feeling like she’d cut me down and retaken the higher ground.
“Because his voice and the biker’s voice are identical.”
Lena seemed to be out of arguments. She glanced toward the lot where her car waited, maybe wishing she could summon it to her like cowboys once whistled for their horses.
Travis ambled up to us. “How are you, Lena?” he said pleasantly.
“What is this?” She backed up, fidgeting with the keys in her hand. It brought to mind the safety tip I’d heard years ago. If you find yourself out alone at night, make a fist with your keys between your fingers like spikes. You can rake them down an assailant’s face to escape. I had to wonder if she’d heard similar advice and was arming herself against us.
Travis stopped where he was. “We’re not the only ones who want his name. Kailyn filed a police report on the incident, so the cops are also looking to ID the guy. And their resources are a lot better than ours. If you’re involved with this biker and his activities, you’d be wise to tell them before they come looking for you. If you give us his name and anything else you know about him, we’ll even take it to the police and tell them you want to cooperate. You might still get out of this unscathed.”
“Why should I believe anything you’re telling me?” She sounded like she was on the brink of panic. “I’ve got to get home now. I have…things to do.”
I took my business card out of my coat pocket and handed it to her. “Give me a call or come by if you want our help.” She tossed the card into her purse without a glance, backing away toward her car. We didn’t go after her, but she must have thought we would, because she kept her eye on us until she beeped her car open and jumped into the driver’s seat.
Chapter 47
After our encounter with Lena, Travis temporarily moved in with me. We were agreed that if Lena didn’t call or come by over the next three days, she probably wasn’t going to. We had no idea if she was involved with Biker Dude beyond lending him the Harley. And even if she was, we didn’t know if she would tell him about our meeting. All we did know for certain was that she wasn’t above breaking rules even if it meant losing her job. And we knew Biker Dude could be charged with worse. If he wasn’t the SCM killer, there was a good chance he was on the killer’s payroll.
Travis explained our general plan to his boss so he’d be able to take the three days off with pay. The man didn’t need convincing; the possibility that Travis might be closing in on the killer was enough to make dreams of a ratings bonanza dance in his head. He lobbied to send along a cameraman in case anything important went down, but Travis stuck to his guns. The circle had to be kept small. We couldn’t worry about the safety of another person or a possible leak. If not for the protection my magick could afford us, I wouldn’t have agreed to our sitting-duck plan myself.
When I’d invited Lena to visit me, I meant what I told her. If she wanted us to go to the police with her, we would. But we knew that if she came, there was a good chance Biker Dude would follow her. One way or the other, we hoped to learn the extent of their relationship.
We didn’t tell Tilly what we were doing. Knowing would have been a burden to her. She would worry and work herself into a panic. I didn’t tell Morgana and Bronwen either. As far as I knew, they weren’t at liberty to pop in whenever they wished. There were restrictions. The night they’d scared off Biker Dude/Ski Mask Guy was pure happenstance, or so I’d been led to believe.
Day one dawned and Travis hung out in the shop with me. We put together a makeshift office for him in the storeroom. My work table stood in for a computer desk where he could get back to work on his much-delayed story about the latest corruption in state government. Since Tilly was bound to see him there when she walked between our shops, I made up a cover story about the wood flooring in his apartment being sanded and resealed, so he was spending a few days with me. Luckily, she wasn’t that good at seeing through a lie, a little one anyway, especially when it came from me. In her loving eyes, I could do no wrong, which made me feel miserable about lying even if it was for her own good.
Sashkatu was the only one who suspected something else was afoot when I didn’t crawl into my usual spot in the cat-laden bed. He went looking for me at two in the morning. When he found me in my old room with Travis, he planted himself between us. I awoke to his whiskers tickling my cheek while Travis was the recipient of his twitching tail. At breakfast the poor guy was picking cat hair out of his mouth. I couldn’t resist a laugh and paid the price by aspirating a mouthful of coffee. I couldn’t stop coughing for a solid five minutes.
When the three of us walked over to Abracadabra, His Highness climbed up to his sunny throne, but didn’t fall asleep until Travis was settled in the storeroom and life seemed stable for the moment.
Aside from Sashkatu’s displeasure over the changes in his realm, the day moved along in an orderly fashion. Business was sporadic, mostly locals stopping in. Lolly came by with a hefty slab of her new cranberry-pumpkin fudge for us to try. I accepted it as payment for a bottle of shampoo that was kind to dyed hair and, courtesy of Morgana’s clever spell, made hair grow more slowly. Customers were nuts about the stuff. Instead of needing a touchup every four or five weeks, they could go a good eight weeks without seeing any roots.
I was ready to lock up for the night when Lena ran in as if she was being pursued. She immediately moved away from the door and windows. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the first aisle, where we couldn’t be seen from outside. Her hand gripping mine was as cold as ice and she looked as if she was on the verge of tears.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I need to talk to you. Can we go someplace else? Someplace safe?”
“Is someone after you?” Travis asked when he found us.
“Please, not here,” she said. “I was hoping you’d be getting ready to close up and go home.” I assured her we were. Whatever was about to go down, I much preferred it happen at home where Tilly and Merlin were a block away, instead of a few steps.
In less than ten minutes we were installed at my kitchen table. I put up water to make tea for Lena—Tilly’s calming blend. It seemed to help. When she put the mug down, her hands were no longer shaking. “I came because I’m afraid to go to the police by myself,” she said. “I’m afraid they’ll throw me in jail. The man you asked me about—the one who was borrowing my uncle’s bike—he’s a friend of a friend who loves Harleys.”
“Who is this friend?” I asked.
“She’s a friend from high school, so I didn’t see any harm in it. And the guy paid me a hundred b
ucks whenever he borrowed it,” she added sheepishly. “I’ve been putting the money away for my honeymoon. I had no idea the guy was involved in anything illegal until the last time he brought the Harley back.”
“Why, what happened?” Travis said.
“I went outside to put the bike in the garage and I overheard him on the phone. He said things were getting too hot and he had to lie low for a while. When he realized I was standing behind him, he cut the call short and accused me of eavesdropping. He was so nasty, like a completely different person. He warned me to forget anything I heard if I wanted to keep breathing.”
“Did you mention this to your mutual friend?” Travis asked.
She shook her head. “I was afraid to tell anyone.”
“But now you’re here talking to us,” I pointed out, “so what changed your mind?”
She took a moment to finish the last of the tea. “With or without my help, one day the cops are going to find out who he is and whatever it is he’s done. He’ll probably blame me for talking even if I don’t.” She started to cry. “I’d rather call his bluff then live with that threat hanging over me.” I got her the box of tissues I kept on the counter. “His name is Kenny. Kenny Driscoll I think.” She paused to blow her nose. “At least that’s how he was introduced to me.”
“Okay, Lena,” I said, “tomorrow morning Travis and I will go down to the New Camel station house with you. You’ll tell them you want to share what you know about this guy, but you want immunity.”
“And protection,” Travis added.
Lena looked more hopeful. “I can do that?”
“Yes,” I said, “but you may have to negotiate a bit. We’ll be there to support you and if you need an attorney, we’ll help find one for you.”
“I don’t know how I can thank you,” Lena said, tearing up again.
I put my hand over hers. “No thanks necessary.” What I really wanted to say was tell us why you copied those papers from Epps’s desk. Unfortunately I’d never be able to explain to her or the police how I knew about her afterhours return to the courthouse.
After I fed the four-legged members of my household, we humans dined on pasta with a pomodoro sauce and salad, the one Italian meal I could pull off without a hitch. We sat together in the living room to watch a few mindless TV sitcoms for distraction. By nine o’clock we were all tired enough for bed. Lena bunked down on the convertible sofa in my home office.
At three fifteen in the morning, I awoke as if I’d been roused by an alarm. I listened for it to happen again, but all was still. I was about to dismiss it as an emergency vehicle passing in the distance or the product of a dream, when I felt the house vibrate. The wards had been activated. Fortunately, Merlin had reinforced them all. My dreaming mind had interpreted the vibration as an alert. Everyone else appeared to be sleeping peacefully, unaware that a threat was at our gate. I drew my bathrobe around me, but I didn’t want to disturb the cats by rummaging in my dresser for socks or a flashlight. Without turning on any lights, I padded down the stairs, the cold hardwood sending chills through my body like ripples of misgiving.
Chapter 48
The vibrations echoed through my body again as I made my way over to the living room window to look for who or what was disturbing the wards. I didn’t want a would-be intruder to know he was being watched, so I stood to the side of the blinds and peered out between the slats. I expected to see Biker Dude or his alter-ego. But in the dull light from the street lamp, I didn’t recognize the man standing at my fence line. He looked like an average Joe. But he was trying to gain entry to my property at three in the morning and that meant he was dangerous. I watched Average Joe take a run at the force field. He bounced off it like the ball in a rough game of handball and landed in the street with a thud that was loud enough for me to hear. He had to be frustrated and confused. I was willing to bet he’d never encountered protective wards before.
“What are you doing?” Travis whispered behind me. I jumped, letting go of the blind I was holding. It clinked back into position, sounding loud in the quiet house. At least he hadn’t turned on any lights.
I told him about the man outside and when I peeked out again, he was still there, walking along the perimeter of my property, looking for a vulnerable spot he could break through. Although he couldn’t know what he was up against, his resolve hadn’t waivered, which reinforced my belief that he was more than just a common criminal. Any self-respecting burglar would have moved on to another house by now, possibly vowing to give up drinking and drugs. This guy was after bigger game, possibly Lena, more likely Travis and me.
“Let me have a look,” Travis said. After a few seconds at the window, he turned to me. “Do you have a pair of binoculars?”
“Bronwen did—she was into bird watching.” I found her binoculars in a drawer of the breakfront and brought them over to him.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” he murmured.
“What doesn’t?”
“The guy out there is Darrell Flint, Lena’s fiancé.”
“Wait,” I said. “How do you know that?”
“From Lena’s bridal shower.”
“Flint wasn’t there.”
“He kinda was,” Travis said. “They had a big poster board covered with dozens of photos of Lena and him.” Some detective I was turning out to be. I hadn’t even bothered to look at it. But given the situation, any additional mental flogging would have to wait.
“Let me see.” I took the binoculars back and we switched places again. Although I’d never seen the guy before, there was something familiar about his face. Maybe he resembled someone else I knew. It was just beyond my grasp. And then I made the connection. “Travis,” I whispered, “he’s the Biker Dude! And Ski Mask Guy.” And Lord only knew how many other personas. Without biker duds, his hair combed conservatively and his face clean-shaven, he’d been almost unrecognizable.
“Why would he be trying to break in here in the middle of the night?” Travis said as much to himself as to me. “It’s not like we’re holding Lena hostage.”
“I don’t think he’s here for her,” I said, pieces of the puzzle beginning to fall into place. “She’s here for him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think she’s here to help him get inside. After we approached her yesterday, she probably went straight to Flint and they came up with a way to turn our little scheme against us. So today she came running to us for help like we told her to. Only now she’s working with him, or maybe she always has been.”
“Then he’s here to kill us and make it look like a burglary gone bad,” Travis said. “What about Lena?”
“I don’t see her as a killer.”
“No offense, but I’d feel a whole lot better if it was Tilly saying that.”
“What’s wrong?” Lena asked, making us both jump as if we were the ones sneaking around, plotting murder. She was at the top of the stairs, looking remarkably well-coifed for someone who’d supposedly been sleeping.
“There’s a guy outside trying to break in,” I said, playing dumb. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Are you serious? Did you call the police?” Her acting skills were top-notch.
“I’m about to,” Travis said, going to grab the phone off the end table in the living room. He talked for less than a minute. When he hung up, he joined me back at the window.
“Are they coming soon?” Lena asked, her voice shaking, but for the wrong reasons.
“That’s generally what happens when you dial 911,” Travis said. I wished he would dial back the sarcasm or she’d figure out she’d been made. We didn’t want her running off before the police arrived.
“Come down and wait with us,” I said. “You’ll feel safer if you’re not alone.”
“I’ll just go to the bathroom first,” she said. To call and warn Flint the gig was up, no doubt.
“T
here’s a bathroom here too,” I reminded her.
“Oh, right.” She started down with a tremulous smile that still needed some work to look genuine. After she went into the powder room, I tiptoed around the squeaky floorboards to listen at the door. I didn’t hear her voice, which meant she must be sending Flint a text. There was nothing I could do to stop her. I made it back to the window with only a second to spare before she opened the door.
One of the advantages of living in a town as small as New Camel—the cop on-duty wasn’t often busy with other calls. Minutes later a patrol car rolled silently along the curb, no sirens or flashing lights to announce his presence. He’d even doused his headlights before turning onto my street. Flint was so focused on his mission that he didn’t realize he had company until Paul Curtis jumped out of the cruiser, gun drawn, and identified himself. I turned on my outdoor lights to help him see. He shouted at Flint to raise his hands and drop to his knees. Flint reached for his waistband instead. I bit my lip, knowing what was about to happen. If I tried to warn Curtis, I’d only be distracting him.
“Hands up!” he shouted again, “do not give me a reason to—” Two shots rang out. Curtis ducked behind the open door of his patrol car. The bullets went wide, slamming into the grill, waking the dogs in the neighborhood, who in turn roused their humans. Lights flashed on in all the houses I could see from my window. The telephone rang, startling us like another gunshot. Travis had left it on the window sill. There was only one person it could be.
“We’re fine, Aunt Tilly,” I said, taking care to keep my voice at a normal cadence. I explained the situation as routinely as it was possible to explain a shootout. In the background I heard my aunt pulling out her baking pans. I raised my voice over the noise. “Promise me you’ll stay inside until I call you back.”
