“What do you want now?”
“Mr. Crowhopper, that isn’t a very nice way to greet someone who is trying to find a missing person,” I said politely.
“I thought you were trying to find a killer.” He snapped.
“Well, that too. But for now I’m looking for Tiffany Anderson. And I think you can help.”
“I told you…”
I cut him off. “Lola, suchen.”
Lola can track from about 100 feet if there isn’t too much wind. She stood quietly. This wasn’t a good sign.
“Mr. Crowhopper, please, I feel awkward talking to you through that chained door.” I pointed to Lola and she sat.
“Too bad. I have nothing to say to you.” He closed the door.
Okay, that went well. I stood there for a moment, contemplating my next move. I was sure Lola would sense that girl in Leonard’s house. I didn’t think the small crack in the door was a deterrent, as Lola could smell her target through a crack in the cement. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Leonard Crowhopper was just a nosy neighbor and nothing more.
I gathered up Lola’s leash and turned when I heard the door open behind me. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“Mimi,” I said, but didn’t turn back around. I decided I was finished here and started back to the car.
“Mimi, can I ask you a question?”
Now I turned around.
Leonard was standing in the doorway with the door fully open now. I took the opportunity to walk Lola back to the house. Leonard stepped back, but didn’t close the door.
“Yes?” I prompted.
“Whoever killed William Garrison, do you think there is a possibility, if they were discovered, that they would face murder charges?”
“You asked this before. I don’t know. It could have been self-defense. I wasn’t there when he was killed, so I don’t know what happened. Maybe.”
“What do you mean maybe?” He wasn’t just curious; he was desperate for an answer.
“Mr. Crowhopper, I believe the person who killed Mr. Garrison saved the world from a sadistic predator, so I’m hardly the one to give you an answer. I would say there’s a great case for self-defense. Maybe not self defense, but defense of some kind.” I paused. “Why, Leonard? What do you know?”
And that’s when it happened. Lola dropped in place and crossed her front paws. It was barely audible, but I heard her whimper. I looked down. It was a positive. I let go of her leash and said, “Gutes Madchen, get ins Bett.”
Lola made a beeline for the car, jumped in through the open passenger window, and went straight into the backseat. Within seconds, she had Tiffany’s skirt in her mouth.
“What the hell was that?” Leonard stepped onto the porch. When he saw what Lola had in her mouth, he went pale.
“Leonard, Lola used to be a tracker. Not a professional, but a tracker all the same. What she has in her mouth is Tiffany’s skirt.”
“What are you trying to say?” He was back in the house and ready to slam the door shut again.
“I’m saying Tiffany Anderson has been here.” I put my foot in the door to keep him from getting out of my sight.
“Leave me alone.” He shoved the door hard, and it hurt like hell as he smashed my foot.
“Please, I’m not the cops. I just want to know that Tiffany is safe. I need to know that William Garrison didn’t do anything to that poor girl.” I shoved hard at the door. “Please, Leonard, talk to me.”
That’s when I saw the gun in his hand, and it was pointed directly in my face. I’m pretty sure it was a .44 Magnum, but at such close range, it was a bit blurry.
The blood was pumping through my veins so hard, I thought my heart was going to crack my ribs. Suddenly, Lola was out of the car and charging the house.
“Lola, no!” I yelled as he turned his gun from me to my dog.
“Ma’am, I think it’s best you get your fucking foot out of my doorway.” His color had returned with a vengeance.
With my heart still slamming against my ribs, and my breath in short supply, I pulled my foot back and the door slammed shut.
As I stood in place, trying to gather myself, I heard him say through the door, “I can’t help you.”
The first thought in my head at that moment should have been: Wow, that was really stupid to approach a perfect stranger with an accusation like that. Only before I had time to process the thought, my cell phone rang.
I looked at the number on the screen, Salinas area code, but I didn’t recognize it. I started to hit the ignore icon, but changed my mind at the last second, and answered before it went to my voice mail.
“Ms. Capurro, it’s Irma.” Her voice didn’t sound as steady and sure as it did in person. I wondered if it was the phone line.
“Irma, what can I do for you?” I tried to sound pleasant and not startled by the call. What could this woman possibly want from me?
“I think you should come see this.” The shakiness was more pronounced.
“What’s going on, Irma? I’m in the middle of a case at the moment.” I just wanted to go home. My idea of using Lola was a mistake. Going out alone was a mistake. I wanted to go home, take a bath, and forget my mistakes for the day.
“I think you need to come by the candle place. There is something going on in that barn.”
My breath caught. “Did you call Detective Christianson?”
“No. To be honest, he scares me a little.”
“You didn’t seem too intimidated by him earlier.”
A nervous laugh. “A twelve-gauge shotgun does wonders for bravery.”
I had to laugh. “You really should be calling the detective. I’m not the police.”
The entire time I was telling Irma to call the cops, I was getting in my car. I made sure Lola was comfy, and then I flipped a u-turn and headed toward Prunedale. I only wished I could put a light on my roof, and drive at warp speed with lights and siren blazing.
“Irma, are you at home?” I put my cell phone in its cradle and put it on speaker.
“I’m at the end of my driveway. There is lots of activity in that barn, Ms. Capurro. Someone needs to get here now.”
“I’m going to hang up and make a few phone calls. I want to you go back into your house and stay there. It may not be safe.” I waited a moment, but there was no response. “Irma?”
The phone was dead. Shit! I pressed my speed dial for Charles.
Before he said anything, I said, “Meet me back at the barn.”
“That candle place?” Charles perked up.
“That old lady called me from the number on my business card. She said something very interesting was going on, and that I should get there now.”
“Did she call the cops?”
“No. I’m calling Nick next. I just wanted you to know first, so Nick couldn’t say to stay out of it.”
“Call him right now. We don’t need to do anything to put Tiffany in more danger than she may already be in. I don’t want that on my conscience.” Charles disconnected without saying goodbye.
It took every ounce of power to keep from flooring the accelerator. I had to stay cool. I dialed Nick’s phone.
“Detective Christianson.”
“Is this a work phone, or your private cell number?”
I could hear the exasperation in his voice. “What do you want, Mimi?”
“That Irma lady called. She said to get back to the barn right away.” I loved being the messenger.
“What the fuck? She called you?” Exasperation didn’t quite describe his voice now.
“Don’t kill the messenger. Jeez. She said she was afraid of you. And with an attitude like that, I don’t blame her.”
“Where are you?” Nick asked warily.
“In my car. Why?” I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him I was on my way to the candle barn.
“Stay put, Mimi. I’ll take care of it from here.”
I didn’t say anything and disconnected.
My ph
one rang. It was Nick. I let it ring. Oh, boy, was I going to be in a world of hurt.
CHAPTER 18
How Charles was able to get to the barn before me was a secret he’d never share. But his Spyder was sitting in Irma’s driveway. I pulled up behind it and got out. I went around to the passenger side and let Lola out, too.
“Why did you bring her?” Charles rubbed between her ears.
“She was with me when I got the call.” I held Lola tight on the leash and let her know this was all business.
“Weren’t you at home?”
“No.” Shit was going to hit the fan when I told this story.
“Mimi?” Charles sounded admonishing, but he was just nosy.
“Fine. I took Lola to visit with Leonard.” I took a step back. I knew he wouldn’t yell, considering the situation, but I thought for sure he’d get in my face.
“Brilliant! Why didn’t I think of that?” He squatted down and rubbed Lola’s ears. “So what did you find, my little darling?”
“Nothing. That shithead put a gun in my face,” I said.
Charles jumped to stand in front of me. “What? Mimi, you went alone? That was stupid. I thought you went back with Nick. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I certainly didn’t think Leonard was a nut job that was going to pull a gun on me. I was thinking Lola might smell something from Tiffany in that house.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t even let you in the damn house.”
A light flickered, and we both turned.
“Who’s there?” Irma asked.
“Irma, it’s Mimi and Charles,” I whispered.
“I told you to come alone.” She flashed the light in my eyes.
“No, you didn’t.” Crazy lady.
“It’s okay Irma, I’m just here to be sure Mimi doesn’t get hurt.” Charles used his most compassionate tone.
“It’s Mrs. Tucker to you.”
I saw Charles flip her the bird and nearly choked on a giggle.
“Irma, what’s going on?” I moved to her side, out of the flashlight’s glare.
“There’s movement down there. I saw people in the barn, but no cars.” She shined the light across the road.
“Mrs. Tucker, aren’t you afraid you’re going to scare whoever it is off with that light?”
She swung the light around into Charles’ face. “What do I give a shit? They’re trespassing on my property.”
“Well then, why aren’t you down there with your fucking shotgun then?” Oh, Charles had had enough of this old bat.
“Do I look like I can handle that shotgun and this flashlight at the same time, you idiot?” She hit him in the arm with the light.
Before she knew what was happening, Charles had taken the flashlight from her grip and turned it on her. “You aren’t a very nice old lady. And if I was you, I’d watch very carefully every time I crossed the street from here on out.”
Irma Tucker took a step forward and got right in Charles’s face. “Fine. You hold the light and I’ll go get my shotgun.”
I finally stepped in. “No, don’t bother. I have Lola here, and she’ll guide us in. Charles is probably carrying his Walther PPK anyway.” I looked at him. “Right?”
Charles gave Irma back her light, whipped out his gun and a smaller flashlight. “We’re good. Let’s go.”
I led the way across the road, holding Lola close at hand. I stopped and handed the leash to Charles. “Hold her a minute.”
I went back to my Land Rover. In the backseat, I scrambled for Tiffany’s skirt. Maybe this was a better use of Lola’s abilities, anyway. I closed and locked the car, then took the leash back from Charles.
Lola obediently sat, every muscle prepared to launch. I looked both ways on the road, put the skirt to Lola’s nose, said, “Lola, suchen,” and unsnapped the leash.
Lola dashed across the yard like a shadow, sniffing and following a trail. I took the light from Irma and followed Lola’s path with the light. I lost her when she went around the far side of the barn. I didn’t even wait for approval from Irma and Charles before dashing across the road to find her. Lola was my baby, and I’d be damned if I was going to let her out of my sight.
I sprinted across the asphalt road and slid across the gravel on the shoulder of the other side. I went straight down, landing on my butt, and the flashlight went flying. I’m not sure what hurt worse, my butt, the gravel digging into my palms, or my ego. And I didn’t have time to think about it, because just then I heard Lola whimper.
Behind me, Charles said, “Holy shit. Lola, you’re getting prime rib for a month, you wily coyote.”
Abandoning his attempt to help me up, Charles made a mad dash to the barn. I watched his shadow in the dark as I gingerly got to my feet.
Irma grabbed me by the elbow. “You okay?”
I nodded, as if she could see it in the dark. I took a step forward and went right back down. I couldn’t believe it. I’d wrenched to my ankle.
“No, you definitely are not okay.” The old woman lifted me off the ground like a sack of grain, and hauled my arm up around her shoulders. “And I know you aren’t going to be happy just waiting here. I sure as hell ain’t. Let’s see what’s going on.”
Irma Tucker hauled my butt down that driveway toward the barn like an Olympic weightlifter. We reached the doors just as Charles was poised to ram them open. I could hardly believe the pace at which Irma moved, heaving my (not too tiny) frame along with her.
I saw Charles come to an abrupt stop right before slamming into the door. The outdoor light came on, and I watched Bridget Garrison walk out the door with Tiffany Anderson.
I slumped to the ground, taking poor Irma with me. I was exhausted, hurting like hell, and relieved at the same time. Tiffany was alive.
“Stop right there.” The voice came from behind me, but I saw Charles in front of me with his weapon pointed at Bridget. I twisted around to see Nick standing there with his weapon pointed at Charles. Piper had her gun leveled at Bridget.
No one moved. Tiffany looked like a deer in the headlights. Bridget stood frozen. Charles never wavered, his gun still pointed at Bridget’s head.
“Charles, put the gun down,” Nick said, as he walked toward them.
“Nope. I’ve got a better shot than you do. I’ll put it down when you get here next to me.” Charles never looked away from his target.
Nick dropped his gun to his side and sprinted down the driveway. When he was within steps of Charles, he raised his gun again, and Charles dropped his.
In all of this, Lola never left her spot by the door. Charles said, “Lola, comen se bitte.”
His German sucked, but Lola understood what he meant. She immediately stood and trotted to him. Charles grabbed her collar and she jumped up in his arms. Now there was a sight, the dapper Charles holding an eighty-pound Doberman while she licked his face. But who was he to complain? She’d done her job better than we could.
I’d never been so proud of my baby. I just wished Dominic could have been here to see what an incredible dog she turned out to be.
The spectacle only lasted a moment, before Charles put her down. He said, “Tiffany? Do you like dogs?”
Tiffany smiled. “Yes.” She approached with caution, then bent down and patted Lola on the head. Lola pushed her face at Tiffany, begging for more petting.
“Bridget, what’s going on here?” Nick’s gun was still aimed at the woman.
“I can explain.” She raised her hands in a show of resignation. “I’m not going anywhere. You can put the gun down.”
Piper came down the hill and took Bridget’s hands down one at a time, putting them in handcuffs behind her back. She walked her away from the barn.
Charles had Tiffany, who was holding Lola’s leash, and headed in the same direction.
All seemed quiet for the moment, and the collective sigh of relief was almost audible. Then there was a noise inside the barn, and in a flash, everyone was on alert again.
St
ephanie walked out with her hands in the air. “It’s just me. I don’t have a white flag to wave.”
Nick aimed his gun at Stephanie and approached her slowly. “Stephanie, don’t make any moves. I’m going to put my gun away and handcuff you.”
She only nodded.
Nick gently put the cuffs on Stephanie.
Suddenly, Tiffany let go of Lola’s collar and ran after them. “Wait.”
Irma Tucker grabbed the girl by the collar of her navy t-shirt. “Hold up there a minute, young lady. Let the police do their job.”
Dressed in a t-shirt and jeans that looked a bit too small, Tiffany struggled against Irma’s grip. “Let go of me, old lady.”
Irma, not taking kindly to being called an old lady, lifted Tiffany a few inches off the ground. “Didn’t your momma teach you no manners?”
Charles ran up to Irma. “I’ve got her.”
From where I sat, I said, “Be cool, Irma. This girl has been through a lot.”
Nick handed Stephanie off to a uniformed officer and came back down the driveway with a woman I’d never seen.
He walked up to Charles and Tiffany. “Tiffany, I’m Detective Christianson, and this is Nancy Waller. She’s from Child Protective Services, and she’s going to take you home.”
Tiffany’s body went limp. “I can’t go home,” she sobbed. “They’ll kill me.”
Charles dropped to his knees. “Who’s going to kill you, honey?”
I thought I knew the answer, and I’m pretty sure Charles did, too.
Tiffany sniffed. “My parents.”
Nancy Waller, a plump woman of about forty, said, “No one is going to kill you, Tiffany. We’re going to take you to a safe place until we can talk to your parents. Are you up for that?”
Looking more like a four-year-old than a fourteen-year-old, Tiffany walked away with Nancy.
Nick, Charles, Irma and I watched as they disappeared in the night.
I knew that’d be the last I ever saw of Tiffany Anderson. Somehow I knew her parents would put their would put their house up for sale, and move to a city where no one knew them or what had happened to their daughter.
Nick looked down at me. “What the hell? Get up, let’s go.”
Textual Relations Page 14
