I hung up with Mom, a new determination boiling to the surface. Moving the stick shift to first, my mind was made up. I had some work to do, starting right now.
Chapter 18
My car eased into the visitor parking lot outside the police station. I had one advocate: at least I hoped his support hadn’t been an act two nights ago. I needed his help. The sun was still shining brightly from the western sky, but the afternoon warmth was quickly diminishing. Turning off my car, I looked at myself in the rearview mirror: the eyes looking back were haggard. Too much had already happened, and more ugliness might be right around the corner. “You can do this,” I told myself. As I swung the heavy door closed, I tucked my chin inside the neck of my coat and sprinted for the police station’s front door.
Inside the heavy metal doors was a grand entryway. A large sign with an arrow pointing toward the steps, read, “All Visitors MUST report to the 2nd Floor Desk Sergeant.” The police station had an intimidating feel to it, as if the designers purposely erected the most daunting entrance they could manage. Tall thin windows stood at attention along both sides of the entryway. The ripple in the lead-glass of the window panes gave away their age. A thin wooden overhang shielded the radiators on the floor running the length of the windows.
The floor and steps of the police station were a brilliant pattern of granite. The tan, brown, and black swirls were peppered with flakes of some shiny mineral, giving the appearance of gold dust embedded within. Thin black no-skid strips ran the length of each granite step. These strips seemed to be a minor precaution given the number of wet boots full of melting snow that likely climbed these steps.
As I emerged onto the second floor, an enormous wooden desk with two uniformed police officers greeted me. I unzipped my coat and draped it over my arm. No other visitors stood in front of the counter, and neither of the uniformed policemen looked up from their computer monitors to acknowledge I was there. I sized up the officer on the right as I stood in front of the intimidating desk. He was trim, having an athletic appearance which contrasted with the milky-pink complexion of his wrinkled skin. The policeman was bald on top, but a thin strip of light red hair, trimmed close, reached around the sides of his head. I’m not saying the guy was old, but if he were milk, I wouldn’t put him back in the refrigerator. His tie was straight and his uniform shirt had enough starch to hold him in place for a month.
His words were kind, but the tone with which they were delivered was condescending. “How can I help you?” The officer barely glanced at me while he was doing something he obviously believed was important on his computer.
Standing up straight and in the most direct voice I could project, I said, “I need to see Officer Brown.”
The officer rolled his eyes, “Which Officer Brown?”
“Um, Charlie Brown.”
The officer looked at a large white board propped up against the wall and pulled off a single sheet of paper that had been stuck to it with a magnet. Still choosing not to make eye contact with me, he asked, “Do you have an appointment?”
“No. I didn’t know I needed one. I just wanted to talk to him.”
“He’s out on patrol. You’ll need to make an appointment with him.” Finally turning toward me, he allowed his eyes to rove over me. They gazed at me from the boots I wore, pausing slightly at my hips, all the way up to my chest. He must have liked what he was leering at because a disgusting grin appeared on his face, which made the whole incident that much more gross.
“Fine.” Taking a few steps away from the desk, I dug through my purse and found the business card Officer Brown had given me before I made my way back down to the first floor. I dialed the number and he picked it up on the first ring.
“Brown.”
“Hi, Officer Brown.” I scowled in the direction of the jerk who had basically dismissed me without even offering to call him. “It’s Candy Kane from the other night. Are you busy?”
“Hey, I always have time for someone whose name is almost as ridiculous as mine. What’s up?”
“I’m at the police station. I wanted to talk to you, but the desk sergeant said you were out on patrol, so I need to make an appointment to see you.”
“He what? That must be Lewis. Short guy, no hair, a real affinity to starch?”
Officer Brown’s description of the schmuck behind the desk tickled me, “That’s the one.”
“He’s a putz. I’m on the fourth floor right now. Give me a minute and I’ll come get you.”
True to his word, Officer Brown walked down the steps and straight over to the uniform sitting behind the desk. “I need a visitor badge for Miss Kane.” Officer Brown reached for a tattered white binder, setting on top of the desk with large block letters marked “VISITOR” and handed it to me. Neither of the two police officers looked happy to see each other. Once I had filled out my information in the binder, Officer Lewis gave me a red plastic badge with a clip on the back and an enormous “V” written in bright red on the front.
Officer Brown led me up to the fourth floor, then directed me into a small conference room halfway down the hallway. The walls were decorated with police academy graduation photos. His eyes looked around the tiny room holding a small table and four chairs. “My desk is in a bull pen, so this at least has a little privacy. What’s on your mind?” Officer Brown took a seat and motioned for me to take one across the little table from him.
“First, I wanted to say thanks for the other night. I was pretty freaked out, and you were great to me.”
He fished in his pocket and pulled out a business card. A genuine look of concern crept over his face as he offered the card to me, “I should have given you this Tuesday night. Here’s a number you can call. The people who run this hotline help crime victims all the time.”
He thought I wanted his help because I was scared? Well, I was sort of scared, but not from the robbery by itself. I started to give the hotline card back to him, but reconsidered and tucked it in my wallet. “Do you know what all has happened?”
“I can’t discuss the specifics of an ongoing investigation, even with one of the victims, I’m sorry.” He waited a second, as if to drive the point home, then added, “Those are the rules.”
I didn’t need a lesson on investigative protocol. I needed that jackass from last night read the riot act for being such a douche. “Last night there was a home invasion in one of my neighbor’s houses. It was the same guy who beat up Libby, shot at me at the gas station, and broke into my house yesterday morning.”
Given his reaction, it looked as though he was aware of all four incidents. “Look, Candy, it’s all part of an investigation. I can’t share any of the details with you. If you want police protection, I can arrange a detail.” Reminding him that the protection on our street did Mrs. Bavcock no good would have been rude.
“I don’t want protection. I need you to find this guy. I found out this afternoon that the guy’s first name is Grey.”
Officer Brown’s expression changed, “And what is your source?”
“Teddy’s little brother, Tony, paid me a visit at school today. He told me I needed to get out of town. He said Grey and Teddy were both looking for me.” When Officer Brown didn’t say anything, I concluded, “But you already knew his name because I used the security camera to zoom in on his license plate at the gas station and you checked his credit card receipt. Right?”
Officer Brown shook his head, “The license plate on the Nova had been stolen off of a late model GMC truck. The credit card was also stolen. Tell me everything Tony told you today.”
“That was pretty much it. He said Grey and Teddy were both bad news, and he told me I needed to get out of town. I asked him about another guy who had been at the bar, but Tony said that other guy wasn’t involved.”
I wasn’t sure where it had materialized from, but Officer Brown was taking notes on a small notebook in front of him, “Who was this other guy? You didn’t mention him Tuesday night.”
I teete
red on whether I should tell him the truth or not. I knew his name, heck, I probably knew more about Mark than was in any police database, but I wasn’t convinced he had anything to do with what had happened to Libby and me. From the way Tony had described Mark, implicating him could be bad on lots of levels if I were wrong. The last thing I wanted to do was to cause trouble for Mark, and possibly for Dave.
“It doesn’t matter because Tony says everything that has happened is Teddy and Grey.” I watched Officer Brown’s expression. His face was relaxed; his green eyes watched me the way a cat observes a mouse: interested, paying attention to each minute detail.
Feigning ignorance, Officer Brown said, “I was under the impression the other man’s name was Mark Brewer. Do you have any further information to share? Is there anything else you neglected to tell me Tuesday?”
Crap. These cops were comparing notes, and he no doubt knew about my run-in with the jerk cop from last night. He believed I was withholding information from him? Well, I was, but nothing important. Did he agree with what the stupid cop from last night accused me of? That I was involved? He must have noticed my reaction because Officer Brown restated his question, “I’m sorry – not neglected. You were in shock. Have you remembered anything else that might help us with the investigation?”
“No. But after that Grey guy broke into my neighbor’s house last night, one of the cops basically accused me of being involved. I didn’t cook this up. I wouldn’t hurt Libby or scare Mrs. Bavcock.” My emotions were gaining momentum, and I needed to get them under control.
Officer Brown nodded, “That was Fletcher.” I raised my brow. Officer Brown clarified, “The officer on the scene who made those accusations – his name’s Fletcher. He’s very by-the-book, and his gut tells him there is no way something this elaborate was done over such a small amount of cash.”
A sliver of hopelessness began gripping me, “What do you think?”
His hand reached across the table in a comforting way, “I saw you at the gas station, Candy. People can’t fake that kind of fear. Your reaction is on the gas station’s surveillance recordings.” He paused, looking me directly in the eye. “No one can convince me you had anything to do with it.”
A breath escaped that I had held involuntarily, “So, you believe me?”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe. It only matters what I can prove.” He must have realized he was touching me because he pulled his hand away from mine as if I had a snake attached to my arm. “Are you planning to leave town?”
Without hesitating, I answered, “No.”
“If you change your mind, call and tell me before you go. It could look suspicious if you just up and disappeared.” My eyes narrowed as I wondered if I were putting too much faith in Officer Brown. Reading my expression quickly, he added, “Hey, relax. Just make sure I know where you are.”
“Why, so Fletcher knows where to pick me up after he fabricates enough evidence?”
Scowling at me, he answered, “No one is fabricating any evidence. If anyone needs to corroborate one of your statements, we have to be able to get in contact with you. Being scared and wanting to go somewhere safe is a perfectly reasonable action.”
“I’m not scared.” My words felt stronger coming out than they sounded.
Gently, his soft green eyes warned me, “Well, you should be. This Grey guy, whoever he is, seems pretty scary. I’ve watched those surveillance videos a dozen times – he’s a predator. Mr. Sanders said you probably didn’t know about it, but there was a hidden camera inside the store pointed in on the cash register – I saw the whole thing. You’re lucky to be alive. Monsters like him, they keep hunting until they catch their prey or a better mark presents itself. Let me assign a security detail to you.”
“No thanks.” I didn’t come here to have my hand held. I came here to get the investigation focused on where it was supposed to be – not on me. “So, the stolen license plate. Where was it taken from?”
Officer Brown’s eyes narrowed marginally. “Why do you ask?”
“Because Tony lives around here. He wouldn’t have made a special trip to my school today to warn me if he wasn’t close. I assume you got surveillance video from Bank Shot, and you have Teddy’s photograph from it. You have Grey’s photo from the gas station, yet I haven’t seen anything on the news asking people to contact the police with information. That must mean you have some idea of who these guys are, and you’re trying not to scare them off.”
Officer Brown didn’t comment on a single word I had said. After several seconds of silence I asked, “So if the license plate was stolen from somewhere out of town, maybe that’s where Grey lives. Tony says Grey and Teddy are from Kansas City.”
As if reading from a script, Officer Brown responded robotically, “We are following numerous leads.”
“But you’re not going to tell the public that there is a psycho stalker running loose around town?”
He looked over his shoulder toward the door, as if judging what kind of super-sonic hearing would be required to listen in on our conversation. “Every criminal is different. Sometimes, giving them any kind of notoriety in the media only leads to escalated violence.”
“So you’re protecting the city’s population by not warning them about a murderer on the loose?”
Through gritted teeth he answered, “Not every decision is made by me, Candy.”
“It seems like you’re waiting for something worse to happen.” The pitch of my voice grew with my frustration. “Would my body on a slab at the morgue be enough for you to re-evaluate police protocol? That would for sure remove me from the list as a ‘person of interest,’ right?”
“There’s nothing else I can tell you. Trust me that we’re looking for both of these guys.”
“You want me to trust you? Fine. Do something to earn it. Last night I tried to tell Officer Fletcher that Dave Brewer was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He didn’t have anything to do with any of this. I want to drop the trespassing charges against him for breaking into my house yesterday morning.”
I was pleased when Officer Brown didn’t feign ignorance of the circumstances, but the hair on the back of my neck stood up when he echoed Officer Fletcher’s comments, “Mr. Brewer assaulted a police officer at the hospital yesterday. That trumps trespassing.”
Goosebumps peppered my arms. Dave was in serious trouble, and it was my fault. “Dave didn’t lay a hand on an officer! Get your facts straight. Are you forgetting, Grey shot Dave? Get the charges dropped, then I’ll know if I can trust you.”
Officer Brown stood up from the table and opened the door, signifying that our talk was over. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”
Feeling surly, I shot back, “Fine. I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”
He canted his head to the side, and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You won’t go to the media to warn the public? I will. You don’t think the local news would bury this story, do you? I bet it’d be the top story every night for a week. Think of it: they’ll be calling the mayor, the chief of police, everyone. I bet they’d love to know a citizen who tried to stop a criminal you can’t find got shot, got arrested for his efforts, then got charged with assault for rolling a hospital cart at an officer.”
Officer Brown’s teeth were clenched. “I already told you, giving this guy any kind of notoriety can only make things worse.”
“Then get Dave’s charges dropped, and I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
He shook his head at me. I didn’t like the idea of two lunatics running rampant around the city targeting me, but the idea of Dave locked up when he was just trying to help made it far worse. Rather than wait for an answer, I looked at the open door and slid through it. Officer Brown called to me before I reached the steps, “I’ll see what I can do. Stay away from reporters. Where are you staying?”
“I’d be staying at Mrs. Bavcock’s if. . . never mind. You’ve got my cell. No one needs to know
where I’m staying. No promises on the reporters until I know Dave’s in the clear.” I took the steps two at a time back down to the Desk Sergeant to drop off my visitor badge. I had accomplished what I had set out to do. Officer Brown knew as much about this creep as I did. He was probably ticked off right now, but I couldn’t afford for Dave to get locked up over something dumb. I crossed my fingers that Dave hadn’t been arrested while I was at school today.
My feet felt light as I rounded the last corner of the stairs. The same scowling Officer Lewis looked up from his desk as I pulled the visitor log and wrote in my time of departure. I put the visitor badge back on the desk without a word and turned my back on him.
It hadn’t felt like I had been inside long, but when I emerged from the large double doors into the visitor parking lot, darkness had fallen. A feeling of dread washed over me. I had never been scared of the dark or of being alone, but the strength and threats I had used upstairs evaporated when the cool night air hit me in the barren parking lot. I stood at the door, eyeing my car – no others were parked near it.
I had heard stories of men in shopping malls hiding under victims’ cars, ready to jump out and attack as an unsuspecting person walked up. Although unlikely in a police station parking lot, I couldn’t shake the dreaded feeling. When I was about twenty feet away, I angled my head down while I was walking to get a clear view of the undercarriage of my Chevelle. It was clear.
Dave had gotten into my locked car yesterday. Old cars were easy to break into. I’d locked my keys in the car lots of times, and a metal coat hanger was all it took to get inside. Before I unlocked the door, I angled my head using the illumination from the streetlight to see that no one waited for me in the back seat.
His Frozen Heart Page 18
