by Lakes, Lynde
When he heard Lopez call his name, he smirked at the use of his alias. Like the god Janus, he had two faces. The face he showed to the world, and the one only his men saw. But, since at the moment, he prefered to remain hidden, he stepped to the hallway, peered around the door frame and watched the wiry thief enter the house through the side door.
Lopez beamed his flashlight around the darkened den, then paused to light a cigarette with trembling fingers. “You in here, Janus?” he called in his Spanish accent. The tremor in his voice gave away his fear of vacant houses.
Janus remained silent.
“Janus?” A whine crept into Lopez’s voice. His sienna-skin paled.
Janus snickered to himself at Lopez’s discomfort. When Lopez was a toddler, his drug-addict mom left him alone in abandoned shack for days. The resulting adult was this spineless jackass. Janus often found it useful to exploit that weakness. He silently moved back into the kitchen and waited.
“Donde esta?” Lopez’s shrill where are you echoed through the hollow space.
Figuring he’d played the cat and mouse game long enough to keep Lopez off balance and under his thumb, Janus growled. “Kitchen.”
“Ah, aqui esta.” Lopez’s ah, here you are was spoken with great relief in his tone. The red bandanna around his forehead had slipped low and almost covered his dark bushy eyebrows. He took a drag from his cigarette and squinted as the smoke curled into his muddy eyes.
Janus stepped closer to the lantern, aware that the glow spotlighted his muscular build and threw a giant shadow on the wall. He squared his shoulders, wrapping his superiority around him like a Roman cape. He’d always been a master at taking on whatever personality worked: good guy, bad guy, or something in between. Like his Roman namesake, he, too, was a god—a deity of his own fate. “Hand over the journal,” he commanded. “Let’s see how much Charlie knew.”
“Lo siento, boss,” he apologized. “I couldn’t get it. The widow stopped me.” Lopez’s open-armed gesture of helplessness was as lame as the excuse he gave.
Janus’s fingers clawed into his palms. Heat crept up from his neck. “You got a gun. Why didn’t you use it?” He couldn’t believe this street tough had botched getting the journal from a helpless widow.
Lopez ground his cigarette into the linoleum floor with the toe of his boot then leaned against the side of the doorjamb. “She took me by surprise. I thought she went outside.”
Janus wasn’t fooled by the feigned relaxed stance. The twitch near Lopez’s left eye gave him away. It had been a challenge for him to go into a darkened house. “And?”
“So I went in. Next thing, this squawking parrot attacked my head. Before I could draw my gun, the bitch appeared from nowhere and shot at me.”
The image of the fiery widow shooting at Lopez might have amused Janus if the situation wasn’t so serious. “Were you able to get into both garages and plant the devices?”
“Si.”
Okay, Janus thought. Part of the plan was still moving forward. He knew that if Bard suspected a tail he’d switch from the county’s Omni to Paula’s VW, or his own personal 240 Z. With the three locator devices in place all options were covered. “You erased all signs of tampering?”
Lopez nodded. “Afterwards I locked both garages tight. They’ll never know anyone was there.”
“What about the Omni?”
Lopez chuckled. “Tagged it right in front of the widow’s place.” Before Janus could ask, Lopez added, “No worry. It was dark, and I made sure no one was around.”
“At least you didn’t screw that up.” Lucky for Lopez. As far as Janus was concerned, it was three strikes and a man was out.
Janus held his watch close to the lantern. Dammit, what was keeping Deeter? “Get Paula’s house bugged ASAP. I need to know what they know and every move they make.” It was too bad the widow had drawn Bard into this. He wasn’t someone easily dealt with.” Janus blew out a gust of air. Yeah, he could be a big problem.
Lumbering footsteps coming from the side door announced Deeter had finally shown up. Lopez stuck a cigarette in the corner of his mouth and leaned against the wall as if he had nothing better to do.
“What are you waiting for?” Janus growled. “You’ve got your orders. Get moving.” He didn’t want Lopez around for what came next.
As Lopez and Deeter passed each other in the doorway, they nodded and slapped palms in a high-five gesture. Deeter’s long, black hair was matted as usual. His leather vest lifted an inch, exposing a beer belly and the gun tucked in his belt. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Took longer than I expected to dump the truck and rip off another set of wheels.”
Janus knew not to inhale too deeply. Deeter was not only a hairy bear, but he smelled like one. “What’d you do with the truck?” Janus asked.
Deeter jerked a thumb in a general direction behind him. “Ran it off the hill that overlooks our little clear zone gold mine.”
“That was a mistake.” Janus put his leg up on a rung of a three-step ladder and shined his dress boots with a rag. “As I recall, it’s your third.”
“Third?” Deeter wrinkled his brow. “And how was dumping it there a mistake?”
“That area is mostly open. You risked being seen.”
“No one saw me. I made sure of that.”
“How? You’ve raised suspicions. Did you know Bard was at your apartment looking for you today? You’ve allowed yourself to become too visible here.”
Deeter stepped backwards. “If you’re worried about that dumb relocation agent finding me and making me talk—”
Janus felt a calm excitement in his own power. “Don’t look so worried. The problem is easily solved. You take a short trip until things blow over. I have a place in mind.”
Deeter’s eyes narrowed. “Where?” His hand inched toward the gun tucked in his belt.
Janus instantly played to Deeter’s greed. “How’d you like to be a silent partner in another money-spinning operation I have going?”
Deeter’s hand stopped inching and, with dollar signs glinting in his eyes, he stuck his meaty thumbs in his jeans pocket. “If it’s as profitable as this deal.”
Janus finished polishing his boots then shined the barrel of his silencer-equipped .38. He paused and leveled a look directly at Deeter. “That’s what I like about you, Deeter, your greed.”
“Hey, man, something doesn’t feel right here,” Deeter said, reaching for his gun.
It was too late. Janus didn’t blink as his bullet caught Deeter right between the eyes. Janus’s heartbeat speeded only a fraction as he got-off on the drama of seeing, up-close, the alarm in the pathetic, inept face—and then blowing it off.
****
Paula rolled the Omni’s window down and let the cool night air tousle her hair. Bard’s strong features looked angular in the glow of the dashboard lights. She liked his profile, liked him. Too much. When he took the north freeway entrance instead of the south, she wrinkled her brow. “Going to San Diego by way of Victorville?”
He laughed. “I need a change of clothes. It’ll only take a few minutes to stop by my place.”
Mischief bubbled within Paula. She sent Bard a teasing smile. “You actually have a place, huh? You’re in our neighborhood so much it seemed unlikely.”
“Damn, I’ve been found out,” he said sounding amused. “I’m Mr. Mechanical Man, and every morning my boss winds me up and sends me to the clear zone.”
She chuckled. “Maybe I saw you as a county robot at first.”
“And now?”
She smiled and relaxed back into the seat. It might be worth a short detour to see his place, she thought.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said.
“When I have an answer, I’ll let you know.”
Bard shook his head. Although Paula had sidestepped the issue. He felt heat surge through him at the playfulness in her voice and her relaxed body language. Would she still feel playful after he told her about Cory?
&n
bsp; Late night traffic was spotty, and it took them less than ten minutes to skirt the downtown area and semi-circle the city. The Dell Rosa Avenue exit loomed just ahead. Bard changed lanes and took the Northbound off ramp. They passed a block of two-story apartments. Chunks of darkened windows with only scattered lighting gave the building a bleak look. “Man, I’m glad I don’t live in one of those cracker boxes anymore.”
“You live in a house?”
He laughed at the surprise in her voice. “Yes, ma’am, I’m living the American Dream. I bought a place a little over a year ago.” He cleared his throat. “There’s something I need to tell you about that before we get there.” He drove automatically, unaware of anything but trying to find the right words. He’d worked hard to gain her trust. Would coming clean destroy his headway? “I didn’t see the need to tell you this before, but now—”
“Tell me what?”
The unease in her tone tightened the tension bunching in his neck muscles. He stared straight ahead at the road, not glancing at her for fear he’d see the familiar signs of distrust in her expression. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Remember when you introduced me to Cory and we told you that we’d met before?”
“Yes.” Wariness rode her voice.
He sensed her looking at him, and although he had nothing to feel guilty about, her scrutiny made him feel guilty as hell. “We might run into him at my house.”
“Why? Is he after you for something, too?”
“We’re roommates.”
“Roommates!”
The bombshell he dropped sent shock into her voice and the shrill, penetrating sound vibrated through him like the aftershock of an earthquake.
She went silent, her eyes wide and disbelieving, then narrowing into slits of fire. “You pretended to know nothing about me.” Her voice trembled. “Am I to believe Cory didn’t fill you in on all of what he considers to be the sordid details of my life?”
“Cory said a few things, but I wanted to hear your side.” Bard’s heart pounded in his ears. This wasn’t going well.
“I shared personal things with you,” she said. “Things I never told anyone else. How much of it did you repeat to him?”
The pain in her tone knotted his gut. He wished he could say he’d never told Cory anything, but that would be a lie, and he wouldn’t lie to her. He swung to the side of the road, stopped and faced Paula. He wanted to take her in his arms, but her glaring look told him touching her would be a mistake. “I never betrayed you,” he said with such deep emotion that it shook him.
“What do you call it? Cory had a pipeline through you directly to me! You led me to tell you things Cory could use against me, things I would never have told you if I’d known he was your roommate.” Her voice broke. “I’ve tried to trust you, Bard, and you’ve let me down.”
He felt her pain as she closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her lips. His throat tightened. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, and he didn’t want to make things between them worse. Before he could weigh his next words and deliberate the consequences of saying them, she straightened and folded her arms. “Take me home, Mr. Nichols. I’m not going to San Diego, or anywhere else with you.”
He couldn’t let her back out. “If I’d wanted to deceive you, I could’ve left you at your house with the security guard while I came up here alone. I didn’t betray you. I didn’t even tell Cory you had a gun.”
“Big deal. It’s properly registered.”
“Look, I should’ve told you about Cory right away. But how was I to know that it would matter, that you’d share things with me, that we’d become friends?”
****
Paula winced. Bard’s words made sense. He could’ve kept up the deception, if that was his intent. Besides, regardless of his link with Cory, she needed to get to San Diego and find out what was in the safe deposit box. And she didn’t really want to go alone. Besides, Bard’s link with Cory could be reversed to her advantage. All she had to do was entice Bard to channel the confidential police information in her direction. How hard could that be? She couldn’t pass up any source that would lead her to Charlie’s killer. “Okay, you convinced me.”
“I did?”
His wrinkled brow alerted her that she’d raised his suspicions. She forced a lightness to her tone. “Isn’t that what you were going for?”
“Yeah. Of course.” He smiled and started the car again. “This won’t take long.” Bard darted several glances in her direction, as though still trying to figure out what he’d said to persuade her.
Minutes later, they drove up in front of the large, two-story, brick home on Mariposa Drive. There were no other cars around. Paula exhaled in relief. She didn’t want to see Cory. Especially not in his home court.
While Bard went to his bedroom to throw a few things in a bag, Paula ambled around his living room. The fireplace mantel had a string of pictures across it. One was a shot of a family gathering. She counted ten people. Bard stood tall in the back, with his hands resting on the shoulders of a seated plump woman. Her hair was a deep brown like Bard’s; her hand clasped lovingly on his. She had to be his mother.
Paula felt a prickle of envy. Charlie was wrong when he told her that a person couldn’t miss what they never had. After allowing herself a wistful moment, she squared her shoulders. Strength came from accepting how things were, and going on from there.
She wandered around the room, trailing her fingers over the back of the couch and over the mantel top. Even though Cory lived here, she saw no evidence of him in the pictures or in anything else in the room. Did he have a family, too? She couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine him anyway except as a predator waiting to pounce. How close were he and Bard, and how much had Cory told Bard about her…about their relationship?
When it came down to it, how could she blame Bard for not telling her Cory was his roommate? She certainly hadn’t told him everything about her past, or how Cory fit into it.
She looked up as Bard came into the room. He’d changed into hip-fitting Levi’s and a black T-shirt with Los Angeles Dodgers printed across the front. The body-hugging shirt revealed the firm muscles previously hidden by dress shirts.
He placed his bag in the entryway. “Just have to switch cars,” he said. “Back in a jiffy.”
****
Bard hesitated as he went down the front steps. He recognized the silver BMW 530i slowly passing his house. Why was Gordon in this neighborhood so late at night? His boss wasn’t looking for him because he would have stopped when he saw the county car in the driveway. The Mayor lived up the street. Was he in the area on a secret political call? Or something else? Maybe he was checking on him. But for what reason?
Bard automatically removed the mail from his box and flipped through it. By streetlight, he confirmed that the bank statement he’d been expecting wasn’t there.
He switched cars, driving his Z out of the garage and putting the Omni inside. It still bothered him that Gordon was cruising the neighborhood. He ran up the front steps to get Paula. The quicker he got her out of here the better.
The sight of her standing in the center of the living room as though she belonged there sent a weird fluttering to the center of his chest and shoved thoughts of his boss to the edges of his mind.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said, sounding relieved.
“All set.” He grabbed his bag with one hand and Paula’s arm with the other. A tingling warmth seeped into his fingers and palms from touching her. She looked up at him with wide, vulnerable blue eyes. A gust of night air wafted her sweet honeysuckle scent around him, triggering strong nostalgic feelings. Honeysuckle had grown over his back porch.
Suddenly the scents transported him backward in time to his toddler days. His mom had done the dinner dishes. The older children played kick the can in a street brightened by moonlight and a single streetlight. Black starry skies, fireflies flashed in his mind. The creak of the porch swing echoed in his head. His mother cuddled him in her arms as sh
e swayed there, humming a melody. He reveled in the memory of innocence, faith, and security.
Bard smiled down at Paula. He doubted she’d ever experienced a time like that. The overpowering protectiveness he felt for her unnerved him. He gripped her arm tighter and ushered her quickly toward the car.
Minutes later, he headed his Z out of town. He took a circuitous route to San Diego, using abrupt on and off freeways moves guaranteed to lose even the skilled tail.
Bard’s thoughts switched to Deeter. He’d been ready to close in on “the bear,” and, if necessary use a little karate, and a few strategic pressure points he’d learned in the military, to persuade the hairy lout to spill his guts.
What tipped Deeter off? And where was he now? What if he was gone for good? Bard pressed harder on the accelerator. His disappearance would make retrieving the mysterious letter more crucial.
Chapter Fifteen
The bank safe deposit box in San Diego turned out to be what the teller called the jumbo box and rather than contain just one letter as Bard and Paula been led to believe, it was stuffed with rubber-banded envelopes. Bard met her gaze. “It’ll take hours to look through all this.” He opened his briefcase and handed Paula an oversized manila envelope. “Put everything in this and we’ll go to the hotel where I made reservations and wade through it.”
Paula frowned. “You made reservations at a hotel?”
He’d made them at his favorite beachfront hotel get-away before they left San Bernardino. “Don’t get all bent out of shape. I arranged for separate rooms.”
She raised a brow and gave him a suspicious look. “I’ll bet they’re adjoining.”
“A safety measure, I assure you.”
“What made you think we’d be staying overnight…that I’d even agree to it?”
“I didn’t know, of course.” But he sure as hell hoped. “In my work we always plan ahead for interesting developments.”
