One In A Million (The Millionth Trilogy Book 1)

by Tony Faggioli

  “You Googled it, didn’t you?”

  “Googled what?”

  “You know what.”

  There was silence while, Napoleon surmised, Parker weighed his answer before going with the honest route. “Yes.” It was a wise choice. Napoleon hated liars. “And?”

  “You said you didn’t want to talk about it, man.”

  “So you looked it up instead?”

  Parker offered up what was becoming his trademark move: he shrugged. “You never said I couldn’t.”

  After a few seconds, Napoleon chuckled in spite of himself. Parker joined him, nervously at first, before the two men shared a genuine laugh.

  Napoleon shifted his weight. “Screw it. You got any questions?”

  “Nope.”

  “No?”

  Parker scratched his chin. “Not really.”

  Napoleon was impressed. “Fair enough.”

  “I mean,” Parker sighed, “what am I gonna say? Some lame shit like ‘we all make mistakes’? Or ‘nobody’s perfect’?”

  “I’d slap you if you did,” Napoleon replied.

  “So? Where to?”

  “The Sheriff’s Station. Two blocks south of Pederson Avenue.”

  Backing the car out of the faded parking space, Parker evidently couldn’t resist putting in his two cents. “I will say one thing, if you’ll let me.”

  “Shoot.”

  “It was a bullshit call by a chicken-shit DA, from what I read. But the scales will balance, man. You’ll still get his ass someday.”

  Napoleon laughed. “Not likely. The bastard’s dead.”

  Parker raised his eyebrows.

  “You shoulda stopped Googling me and started Googling him.”

  Stunned, Parker shook his head. “If not for that crazy old bat coming at me again with more of her stories, I would’ve.”

  Napoleon smiled. “That makes sense.”

  “Okay. I admit. I’m curious now. Curiosity killed the cat, and all that.”

  “No. He didn’t. He killed five more little girls.”

  The mood darkened. They drove a half-mile down the road in silence before Parker finally spoke. “Now I know why you don’t want to talk about it.”

  The traffic in Beaury was non-existent, with the lone exception of a Lolo’s Breads delivery truck that was passing through the intersection. By force of habit, Napoleon noticed the rear license plate was loose on one side. “If you were still on patrol, rookie, you could pull his ass over. That plate’s about to fall clean off.”

  Parker glanced at the truck. “Yeah. I imagine there wouldn’t be much else to do around here but harass the locals.”

  Napoleon cleared his throat and smirked. “Maybe you could get a free baguette to drop the ticket.”

  “Yeah, right,” Parker replied, scratching his cheek. “There’s no telling how fresh anything in that truck is.”

  The roads were old pavement surrounded by mostly dirt and desert foliage, and they only had to drive a while before they saw the Beaury Sheriff’s Station. It was exactly what Napoleon expected: a two-car operation, no doubt with one sheriff and one deputy. Napoleon wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if each of their cruisers could be found parked in front of their respective houses on any given day, at any given time. Beaury was quiet, the pay was no doubt minimal, and boredom was probably the worst part of the job.

  Today, however, having been called by Captain Bennett and informed that Napoleon and Parker were on the way, a Sheriff Conch and a Deputy Kendall were at the station waiting. Once welcomed in, Napoleon and Parker joined them in taking a seat.

  Conch looked to be in his late-fifties and just a touch overweight. “You really think this asshole rolled through here?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. His desk was littered with stacks of paper. The wall behind him had a dozen or so plaques with photos of the local soccer teams the station had sponsored over the years.

  Napoleon nodded. “We already spoke with two waitresses at the Denny’s that identified him.”

  “Denny’s?” Conch looked at Kendall, a slim guy who was probably in his early thirties and now looked a bit stunned. “Shit.”

  “You were there?” Parker asked.

  Conch looked embarrassed, but, to his credit, not ashamed or the least bit defensive, he said, “Yep. About noon or so. Lunch. Didn’t see him, but we didn’t know to be looking for him yet. We didn’t get the message from your captain or the APB on this nut until we got back.”

  “He was there in the morning, so I doubt you would’ve seen him,” Napoleon said.

  “Who’d you speak to? Irene?”

  “Yeah. But she wasn’t the one who served him.”

  “Who did?”

  “Jasmine.”

  “What’d she say?”

  “Not much. She could barely remember anything about him.”

  Conch looked perplexed. “Isn’t that Jasmine White?” he asked, looking at Kendall, who nodded in reply.

  Napoleon scratched his jaw, looked at Conch and waited for him to continue. After a few seconds he did.

  “Jasmine’s one of the smarter ones around here. Graduated three years ago. Stayed away from drugs. Class valedictorian. We figured she’d be gone by now, but her father’s got lupus, bad, so she stayed.”

  “So you’re saying…?” Parker prodded.

  “I’m saying I’m surprised she couldn’t be of more help to you, is all.”

  “You’d have expected her to remember more?”

  “Unless this guy threatened her or something? Yeah. I mean, he’s an out-of-towner. Right there, that makes him special.”

  “True. But the threat thing isn’t likely.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “We think he’s on the move, probably headed south now.”

  The old man didn’t miss a beat. “South? He heads here, north of Los Angeles, only to double back?” Conch was sharper than Napoleon was first willing to give him credit for.

  “Not logical, I know,” Napoleon agreed.

  “Worse. I’d say that dog don’t hunt,” Conch observed. “Especially if he crosses right back through LA, where everyone is looking for him, to get there. But he’s probably pretty panicked, so I guess it makes sense. Where south?”

  Napoleon sighed. “Probably the San Diego area.”

  Conch seemed partially skeptical. “Or more likely Mexico?”

  “Maybe. It’s possible.”

  “Well, shit. Nobody wants to go south of the border these days. Not likely anyone would follow him.”

  Napoleon smiled. “Not likely a white boy like Fasano with half a brain would try either. Anything past TJ and he’s a dead man.”

  “He could still be around here though?” Kendall interjected.

  “Yep,” Parker replied. “We know he went to the library. We followed that lead from Denny’s.”

  “So, you met Hattie?” Conch asked with a grin.

  “Shit. Did we ever. Good God.” Parker laughed.

  “She’s a hoot alright. I don’t think I’ve checked out a library book in ten years.” When they were all done laughing, Conch continued, “So do we think he has kin or something out this way?”

  “Possible. Not likely. The… uh… kin is probably what’s down south.”

  Conch seemed to be the decisive type; he leaned forwards and slapped his palms to his knees. “Okay then. Did you guys check out the rest of the stores near the Denny’s?”

  Napoleon shook his head. “The Denny’s and library thing took on a life of their own, but we didn’t want to go poking around town anymore until we hooked up with you guys.”

  “Okay. Let’s head over there now.”

  Ten minutes later they pulled into the mini-mall parking lot behind Sheriff Conch’s cruiser and joined he and Kendall in front of the CVS.

  Once again Conch proved to be in command. “Well. Let’s see. The post office is already closed, we can check in with them on Monday. But Kendall? You take Troutie’s. Detective Parker,
do you mind taking the Dickies store?”

  “Not at all,” Parker answered.

  “Detective Villa and I will head into CVS.”

  They split up. They all hit pay dirt. After Conch and Napoleon interviewed the CVS staff it was apparent that Kyle Fasano had stopped in and done a little shopping. No one remembered exactly what, though one of the cashier’s thought she recalled hair dye, which struck her as odd for a man. It wasn’t until they asked to see the store’s video tapes that things got complicated: only the store manager had a key to the security room and he, but of course, wasn’t in today and wasn’t answering any of his phones.

  While they waited, Kendall and Parker walked in with their news. Fasano had purchased clothes and a duffel bag at the Dickies. It was no surprise to anyone that he hadn’t been in the bait and tackle store.

  It took an hour for the store manager to call in. Off shooting in the desert with his friends, he was on his way back now but still an hour and a half away. There was no extra key.

  While they waited Napoleon munched on a bag of Doritos’s and cursed his luck. Having confirmed that Fasano had been here, he couldn’t just hope in the car and head off to San Diego just yet. There could be important evidence on that tape, and he didn’t want to trust it to two country cops he didn’t know.

  When Henry the store manager arrived he was small, frail and seemed like the last guy on the planet who would be a gun enthusiast. Napoleon figured that anything bigger than the smallest pistol would knock him clean on his ass the minute he fired it. His face was pale and he couldn’t stop apologizing to Conch, who let him know that spare keys were always a good idea in life, just in case, and sighed heavily at him repeatedly as he fumbled with the lock.

  Once they got into the room the tapes gave up their secrets pretty readily.

  “So that’s our man?” Conch asked, sounding intrigued.

  Napoleon nodded.

  The four of them watched as Fasano made his way through the store picking up hair dye and scissors first, then a greeting card, then something from the register that they couldn’t make out.

  “Henry!” Conch shouted.

  “Yeah Sheriff?” Henry replied. He was hovering just outside the door.

  “Take a look at this, will ya? What’s he getting there?”

  Henry stepped into the room and put on a thick pair of glasses. Even with them he had to squint at the screen from the camera over the cash registers. “Hm. Not positive. We can walk over to the registers and double check but I’m pretty sure it’s a calling card.”

  “A calling card?” Kendall asked.

  “And a greeting card,” Parker chimed in.

  “After looking up two men in San Diego,” Conch added flatly.

  “He wants the calling card to call his wife,” Napoleon said firmly, “That’s a gimme. We’ll need to track down the receipt of that transaction and get that calling card number.”

  Conch nodded at Henry who then scampered off to get the information.

  “You think he’s taking the greeting card with him? You know, as a thanks for whoever he’s going to visit?” Parker asked no one in particular.

  “Possibly, yeah.”

  They watched as Fasano made his purchase and left the CVS.

  “He turned to the right,” Kendall said.

  “Towards the Dickies. Which means he probably came here first,” Conch added.

  “What’d you find out at the Dickies?” Napoleon asked Parker.

  “That the girl that works there is in a big fight with her boyfriend.”

  “And?”

  “That she’s really mad at him.”

  “Uh-huh. And?”

  “She remembers Fasano coming in while she was on the phone with said boyfriend. Fasano made a purchase. Doesn’t remember what. And then he left. End of memory.”

  Napoleon was going to say something but instead he just gave into the urge to sigh heavily.

  “Okay. Now what?”

  “We’ll go with the odds and head south. But how would he get out of town?”

  “No stolen car reports?” Parker asked.

  “None yet,” Kendall replied.

  “Well. He left his own car at the crime scene. We know that.”

  “So he either hitched a ride with a rig—or took the bus,” Conch added.

  “I can swing by Addie’s,” Kendall said.

  Parker folded his arms across his chest. “Addie’s?”

  “Truck stop about five miles north of here,” Conch explained. “If he hitched, we may get a driver there who saw him or helped him by accident. You go there, Kendall. I’ll start running down the buses.”

  Napoleon handed Conch his card. “My cell number is on there.”

  “We’re running outta sunlight. We turn up anything, today or in the morning, I’ll call you with it right away. You do likewise.”

  They all shook hands.

  “Sure thing. Thanks for your help, Sheriff.”

  “You kidding me? This is the most action we’ve ever seen here.”

  On the walk to the car, Napoleon volunteered to drive and Parker tossed him the keys.

  The temperature seemed to have dropped twenty degrees, and Parker rubbed at the back of his neck. “Whadya think?”

  “I think they can handle it,” Napoleon answered.

  “Not chuckleheads?”

  “Not at all. I get the feeling Conch would give his left arm right now to be going south with us.”

  Parker grunted. “Yeah. Ain’t we the lucky ones.”

  KYLE WOKE up just as the bus slowed into a turn. He guessed he’d been out about three hours or so. He’d forgotten how much longer a trip took by bus. His body was so drained that he felt like he’d slept ten minutes, tops.

  To his left, outside the bus windows, a rising and falling view of the Pacific Ocean greeted him, its waves breaking against the dark rocks below. The bus passed a few turnoffs and then a sign appeared announcing the distance to Carmel. He’d always wanted to golf a round at Pebble Beach, which was near Carmel, but that was a day he sensed would never come now. Ever. That was life. You shoulda, woulda and someday… just couldn’t. Plain and simple.

  He was so tired it took him a moment to realize that The Gray Man was sitting right next to him.

  Kyle smiled weakly. “Well, well. The great leader has returned.”

  The Gray Man looked down at him with a perplexed expression. “You are an interesting one, that’s for sure.”

  Kyle forced himself to sit up. “Gee, nice seeing you too.”

  “You’re drawing on powers and forces you shouldn’t even know of yet, much less be wielding. How is that?”

  “What?”

  “Who taught it to you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The light. The blue light.”

  “Are you serious? Who taught it to me?”

  “Yes and yes. Now answer me.”

  “I thought you were the one who taught it to me.”

  The Gray Man rolled his eyes and shook his head. “How could I have taught it to you when I haven’t even seen you since this all began?”

  Kyle was getting annoyed. “Gee. I don’t know. You kinda left me on my own a bit there with that little pecker on the bike, I thought maybe you just… I dunno… sent it to me somehow, at the Denny’s I guess, when those other two things came after me.”

  The Gray Man narrowed his eyes. “The Denny’s? You went there before the library, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “There was a warp of some kind, a lapse in my ability to track you. So I was not privy to that moment. Tell me what happened.”

  “Are you kidding me? I was on my own then?”

  The Gray Man shifted in his seat, put his hand on Kyle’s forearm and squeezed it. “Evidently not, Kyle. This is important. Tell me what happened.”

  Kyle did, as fully and yet as briefly as he could, and afterwards The Gray Man stared out the bus window for a long time before finall
y asking, “The two creatures in the diner? Did you use the power on them?”

  For the first time Kyle saw concern in The Gray Man’s face.

  Kyle nodded.

  Letting go of Kyle, The Gray Man folded his arms and kicked at a spot on the floor, his eyes shifting slightly from side to side. He appeared to be thinking intently.

  “Why? What’s the big deal?” Kyle asked.

  “The big deal is you’ve been noticed now. There will be unwanted attention, by forces bigger than I was anticipating.”

  Kyle felt a numbness settle in just behind his forehead. Perhaps relying on The Gray Man to maintain his safety had been naïve. “What forces?”

  “Someone gave you the power. It isn’t taught. It’s given.”

  Kyle put his head in his hands. “This is just great.” He looked up at The Gray Man. “You get me into this shit, and now you say something is what… off? Is that a good word?”

  The Gray Man’s eyes were piercing as his voice went firm. “Let us get one thing straight, Kyle, before any of this continues: I did not get you into any of this. You got yourself into it. I’m just here to help you try and overcome it.”

  Properly checked, Kyle grew quiet.

  “The good news is that the power could only come to you from our side. It’s something only we use.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?”

  The Gray Man shook his head. “Never mind that for now. Has anyone else like me visited you?”

  “No.”

  “How did the power manifest itself then?”

  “I told you. I was at the counter, in the Denny’s, those creatures were trying to scare me. I felt for sure that they were going to attack and…”

  “And?”

  “My hands began to glow all of a sudden. I just felt it in me.”

  “How did the creatures respond?”

  Kyle remembered their faces clearly, especially John Deere’s, which up to that point in the diner had been ferocious and intimidating. Until the light. Then? “They looked shocked, and scared.”

  Nodding, The Gray Man adjusted his hat. “Of course they did.”

  “Why?”

  “The power is a direct current from a plane beyond this one. You channeled it. It can destroy them. Utterly. But it is usually not passed on, or given, until one is ready to wield it.”