The Body on Ortega Highway

by Louise Hathaway

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ron has cautioned her to not leave Burke Williams and to call him when she’s ready to be picked up. She feels rejuvenated after her facial: as if she has inner-strength that she never knew she was capable of. She feels like she can handle anything. ‘Bring it on’ she imagines telling the universe.

  She asks the receptionist at Burke Williams if it’d be okay to borrow their phone. They kindly offer it to her. She calls Ron and he tells her he’ll be there in fifteen minutes. She decides to stand outside to wait for him. It’s still pretty deserted on this side of the mall. There are mostly office buildings directly in front of her and everyone is busy working at their desks. It’s not 10:00 yet, so the stores in the mall haven’t opened. It’s a cold day for Southern California and she shivers as she waits for her husband.

  She sees a man approaching her and by reflex reaches for her gun, then realizes that she’s unarmed. “Oh my God,” she tells herself. “It’s him.”

  He has gained quite a bit of weight since high school and his black hair now has streaks of grey in it. He is wearing a tie-dyed ‘suit’ consisting of pants and a short sleeved shirt. She thinks, ‘Where in the world do they sell such hideous outfits?’

  “Hello, Clarice. Long time no see.”

  “My husband is on his way here and you’d better start running.”

  “I thought we’d have a little chat.”

  Clarissa looks around and realizes that he is the only person she sees.

  “What do you want from me?” she asks him.

  “I want you to come to my car with me,” he says, pulling out a gun.

  “No. You’d never shoot me.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that.”

  “You love me. You wouldn’t hurt me, would you?”

  “I don’t want to live without you, Clarissa. ‘There’s a place for us’, like the song says.”

  “We’re not characters in West Side Story. This is reality.”

  “I feel like we’re Romeo and Juliet.”

  “We’re not.”

  “We are two doomed lovers.”

  “No. We’re not.”

  “Come away with me. Let me take us to a better place.”

  “I like it here.”

  “I’ve always felt like I was fated to be famous someday.”

  “You’re ‘infamous’, not famous.”

  “The world will never forget me.”

  Clarissa is thinking, ‘Where the hell is Ron?’

  Smith points his gun at her and says, “Let’s do this thing, Clarice.”

  She practically shouts, “My name is Clarissa!!”

  “It’s like we’re characters in a movie,” he says.

  “No we are not!” Clarissa says, accentuating every word.

  “Let’s go. Come on,” he says grabbing her arm. “Finally I get to touch you again. It’s just like old times. I’ve waited for this moment for so long. I’m dying to make love to you.”

  “No. Never again!” Clarissa says.

  “What do you mean ‘Never again?’” he says, tightening his grip on her arm. “Come on. You’re coming with me, whether you like it or not.”

  She manages to break free and runs inside Burke Williams. He doesn’t follow her inside. She tells the girls at the desk “Call the police! There’s a man outside who has a gun! He just pointed it at me!”

  When the girl hangs up from calling 911, Clarissa tells her, “Call mall security. He’s wearing a tie-dyed suit. They can’t miss him.”

  *******

  Clarissa runs into Ron’s arms the moment he enters Burke Williams. He says, “What’s happened? There are a bunch of cop cars all over the place.”

  “John Smith was here. He threatened me with a gun.”

  “That son of a bitch! Are you alright, honey? Did he hurt you?”

  “No. He didn’t. I’m okay.”

  “Did he come in here with a gun?”

  “No. I was waiting outside for you and he saw me.”

  “You should have stayed inside here.”

  “I wish I would’ve. Believe me.”

  “Let’s go,” Ron says. “Let’s see if the cops were able to find him.”

  Clarissa says to the receptionist, “Sorry about all this drama.”

  “No problem. Take care.”

  When they are walking out, Clarissa says to Ron, “They’ll probably never want me back here again.”

  They go out to Ron’s car and Clarissa looks around for a man in a tie-dyed suit. They walk over to a patrol car and ask what’s happening.

  “We haven’t been able to find anyone matching that description. We’ve got officers on foot looking at all the bushes and back alleys. We’ll keep looking, but he may have gotten into his car and driven off.”

  Ron drives around the mall looking for Smith, but they aren’t able to find him. He seems to have vanished into thin air.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As they are driving back to their house, Clarissa tells Ron that she’s thinking of quitting her job. “I just can’t take it anymore, honey. This thing with Gumbo has been the last straw.”

  He is shocked to hear her say this and tells her, “But you love your job. And you’re so good at it. Look at all the awards you have and all the cases you’ve solved.”

  “Maybe I’ll become a lawyer, like my Mom wanted me to be.”

  “Is that what you really want?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  “What would Dick Santy say to you right now?”

  “He’d say that he was proud of me and that I’m a good cop.”

  “He taught you well. He’s right. He’d probably say, ‘Think about that priest who was murdered at the abbey. Without you, his killer might never have been caught’.”

  “I was just going on instincts and gut feelings.”

  “I know. That’s what makes you such a good detective. It’s a gift, you know.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve never thought of it that way.”

  “That’s right. Think about finding your cousin’s killer in Savannah. Look at how you calmed him down and talked him into dropping his gun when he was pointing it at you.”

  “That could have ended really badly.”

  “I know; but you have this quiet demeanor that gets people to trust you.”

  “Yeah. Before I slap the hand-cuffs on them.”

  “Don’t look it at like that. You’ve never been a cynic.”

  “Yes I have. You just haven’t seen it before.”

  “Well, Clarissa. You know I’ll love you no matter what you do.”

  “I’d like to think I’d have your support on this, Ron.”

  “All I ask is that you give it some time before you tell your boss or make any big decisions about leaving your job. We need good people like you in law enforcement.”

  “Okay, Ron. I’ll give it some time.”

  They drive in silence for a while and then Clarissa asks, “So, how did Gumbo like going to the vet?”

  “At first he was happy to be there at the ‘doggie spa’; but then, when they were taking him away, he looked back at me with such sad eyes. It was like he was saying, ‘You traitor. I trusted you’.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t see it. At least we know he’ll be safe.”

  “I’m going to miss the little dude.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Hopefully, we’ll be able to spring him soon, after we find Smith.”

  “If we find Smith,” Clarissa says.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Three weeks go by and they have no leads. She’s checked out Smith’s last known residence, a halfway house in Fullerton and the lady who runs it says that she hasn’t seen Smith for two months and has no idea where he is.

  Clarissa calls the psychiatric hospitals in the area and asks if they have anyone there matching his description. She checks out the local jails to see if he’s been arrested. She even calls the local pharmacies to see if he’s
picked up any of his medication. She finds out that he went to the Walgreen’s in Tustin to get a prescription of Seroquel refilled three weeks ago. She asks who the proscribing doctor is and learns that he works at UCI. She calls him and he says that he hasn’t seen him in about six months. She calls his twin brother and tells him the latest news. He hasn’t heard from him either. He is shocked to hear that his brother killed another girl, pointed a gun at Clarissa, and threatened to cut off her dog’s legs. “He has really gone off the deep end this time,” his brother says. “We’ve got to find him.”

  Clarissa asks him, “Do you know any place he might be? What about his ex-wife? Could he have gone to her?”

  “She went back to her family in Belgium after their divorce.”

  “Were does he get his money? What does he live on?”

  “He works at odd jobs.”

  “What about SSI? Could he have applied for disability benefits because of his mental condition?”

  “Yes. I think you’re on to something.”

  Clarissa says, “I’m going to call Social Security and see what I can find out. If he is getting checks, he must be picking them up somewhere.”

  “Okay. Let me know what happens.”

  “Please call me if you can think of anything more.”

  Clarissa calls Social Security and finds out that he does get disability and the checks have been sent to a post office box in Fullerton for several years.”

  After she learns this, she arranges to have an officer stake out the postal office to see if he shows up to get his mail.

  *******

  Just when she starts feeling that the case has gone cold, she gets a phone call. This time, it’s on her work phone. It’s John Smith and he wants to meet her on the bleachers at Tustin High in thirty minutes. He asks her to come unarmed and alone.

  She immediately tells her boss what’s happened and that she’s going unarmed. Her boss talks her into letting some back up officers come with her.

  Clarissa tells her boss, “He wants me to be alone.”

  “I know. I’ll tell them to try to stay in the background so he doesn’t see them.”

  “Okay. I’m going.” She does not tell Ron what’s happening. This is something she has to do alone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  She drives down El Camino Real next to the 5 Freeway and pulls into the parking lot of Tustin High School. Officers follow her in unmarked cars. They hang back, so it won’t look like they are following her.

  She gets out of her car and walks by the attendance window, remembering the many times she stood in line there with her Grandmother’s written excuse slips. She walks by the guidance counsellor’s window and remembers Mrs. Wood and how she tried to talk Clarissa into taking more art classes. ‘Good ole Mrs. Wood’, she thinks. ‘She didn’t like it one bit when she heard that I wanted to be a cop instead of an artist.’

  She walks by the students’ lockers and locates the last one she had. She still has nightmares about it being the first day of school and she can’t remember its combination.

  Kids are hanging around after school and there’s a track meet going on by the bleachers. Clarissa is glad that there are a lot of people around. She sees John Smith sitting up on the top bleachers smoking a cigarette. She takes a deep breath and remembers Ron telling her that her forte is keeping calm while talking to suspects so that they will trust her.

  She waves and walks up to meet John.

  He says, “Clarissa, you came.”

  “I told you I would.” she says. “Did you bring your gun this time?”

  “No. I’m unarmed. Did you bring yours?”

  “No. I’m unarmed, too,” she says and sits next to him. He offers her a cigarette. She says, “I’m trying to quit, but now seems like a good time to have one.” She takes one and he lights the cigarette for her.

  They sit in silence for a while. Clarissa looks out at the track and says, “So are you reliving your glory days as a track star?”

  “Those were good days.”

  “You were a fast runner.”

  “I remember looking up in the bleachers and seeing you cheer me on.”

  “You seem different today, John. Calmer.”

  “I started taking my meds again.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “Clarissa, I’m sorry that I threatened to hurt your dog. I never would have done that. I was just trying to get your attention.”

  “You really freaked me out, John.”

  “I’m sorry I pulled a gun on you. It wasn’t even loaded. I never would have hurt you. You have to believe that.”

  “John, what I am supposed to do with you here? You killed two women. You know I’m a police officer. I can’t just let you walk away.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

  They sit in silence for a while. She tells him, “Well, I could get you into a good psychiatric hospital. It’d be better than being in jail.”

  “I’d rather be in jail.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to avoid the death penalty because of your mental condition. I’ll try to see to that.”

  “I don’t care anymore.”

  “I’ll come and visit you there sometime.”

  “Really?”

  “John, are you planning on surrendering to me today?”

  “Yeah. I think so. I think I’m ready.”

  “That’s great. I don’t want you or anyone else getting hurt.”

  “Are there cops watching us?”

  “Yes. I’m going to phone them now and tell them to hold their fire. Okay? I’ll tell them that I’m bringing you in.”

  “I’m tired of running. I’m tired of living in my van.”

  They finish their cigarettes and look out at the track field. He says to her, “Thanks for this little trip down memory lane.”

  Clarissa stands up and he follows her lead. “Turn around for me, John.”

  He turns around and she hand-cuffs him. “Let’s go.”

  “I wish it could have been different for us,” he tells her.

  “Me, too,” she says, as they make their way down the stairs.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A few days later, Ron comes into the house holding two newspapers and calling out for Clarissa. “Where are you?”

  “I’m on the pot,” she says. “What do you want?”

  “Look at this!” he says, walking into the bathroom.

  “Jeez, Can’t I get a little privacy, here?”

  “Look!” he says, pointing at the newspapers. “You’re on the front pages of both the Los Angeles Times and the Orange County Register. The article says you’re ‘a local hero’. Listen to this headline: ‘Hillside Chopper Surrenders to Unarmed Detective’.”

  “Give me that paper,” she says. “Now, scoot. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  *******

  Later that day, her boss calls to say that there’s going to be a special ceremony for her on Friday night. Clarissa will be receiving a medal and special commendation from the entire law enforcement community.

  Her family is welcome to attend, so she invites her cousin Charlotte, who is a paralegal in San Diego. The two cousins are as close as sisters and it’s been way too long since they’ve seen each other.

  When Charlotte shows up at their house that evening, she throws her arms around Clarissa. “I’m so proud of you, cuz. If only Grandma were here to see you now.”

  “And Dad, Ivan, and my Mom,” Clarissa adds.

  “Well, you only have me. I hope I’m enough?”

  “Of course you are, silly. Come in. Do you want a glass of wine?”

  “Sure. That’s sounds great!”

  Charlotte notices the newspaper articles. “Oh, wow! You made the front page. Oh, ‘Local Hero’. Look at you.”

  “You’re my hero,” Clarissa tells her cousin.

  “Moi? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I still look up to you and admire your caree
r path. Just like I did when I was a teenager.”

  “Well, thanks for saying that. You’re sweet!”

  Charlotte says, “This is just like old times. When I was driving up here, I drove by the Civic Center and remembered that time we sat in on that murder trial at the courthouse.”

  Clarissa says, “That was fun. I was trying to decide whether or not I wanted to be a paralegal like you.”

  “We didn’t want to pay to park, so we left our car in Washington Square and I got a ticket.”

  Clarissa adds, “Oh, yeah. And that crazy flocks of parrots crapped all over you.”

  “And we ran away from them and I broke my best pair of heels.”

  Clarissa says, “That seems like only yesterday.”

  “I know. You were straight out of high school, wondering what you would do with the rest of your life.”

  “And I went down to the courthouse and got the transcripts from Dad’s murder trial. I tried figuring out if Ivan killed him or not.”

  “And you met Dick Santy, the lead investigator on the case.”

  Clarissa says, “And the rest is history.”

  Her cousin says, “Dick was a great guy. But he was way too old for you.”

  “He was more like a mentor or father than a husband.”

  “And he took you down the law enforcement path, right along with him.”

  “I sure wasn’t planning on being a cop before I met him.”

  “You wanted to be a paralegal, like me. Or even a lawyer.”

  “I know. I used to go the Law Library and get information on mock trials. I’d pour over opening and closing arguments to get an idea of the legal terminology.”

  “And, you like the voir dire part of a trial the best, like I do.”