by Alan Cook
Shahla was curled up in roughly the same position in which she had gone to sleep. She had let out a muffled scream several times during the night. Her legs had twitched, as though she were running. Tony had patted her back and said soothing words, trying to calm her. She hadn’t woken up, and each time she had quieted down after a few seconds.
Tony went to the bathroom and attempted to bring some coherence to his thoughts. Today was Monday. Monday was a workday. And a school day. But was Shahla in any shape to go to school? She was probably all right physically, but emotionally? And was it safe for her to go to school, with the kidnapper on the loose? He had acted boldly, but in a risky manner. He wanted her badly. He might try to snatch her again.
Tony put on a pair of shorts and went downstairs. While he made coffee, he wondered whether he should take a vacation day in order to stay with Shahla. Or he could just call in sick. But he didn’t like to lie.
Rasa had gone to her sister’s house for comfort and support. She had said she was returning to Bonita Beach today, but she might not be here until noon or later. She apparently wasn’t going to work, and Shahla’s brother, Kirk, wasn’t going to school.
Tony was making himself toast when Shahla appeared, still wearing his T-shirt. Her hair was uncombed, and her eyes were a little bleary. She looked vulnerable, but sweet. And although her mood was subdued, she didn’t seem to be depressed or scared.
“Your clothes are in the dryer,” Tony said. He went the few steps to the utility room and pulled them out of that machine. He handed them to Shahla.
“Thank you.” She laid them on a chair, then took the bikini bottom, stepped into the leg holes, and pulled it up. She did the same with the shorts.
There was something intimate about watching a woman get dressed. “How do you feel?” he asked.
“I’ll be all right. My thigh hurts, my hands hurt, and a few other places hurt, but I’ll be fine.”
“Would you like some toast? I’ve got strawberry jam.”
“That would be wonderful. I’m starving.”
Tony poured orange juice for her to go with the toast. Realizing how hungry she was, he also made eggs and bacon. She ate everything.
After she had satisfied her appetite, her mood improved dramatically. She kidded Tony about his cooking skills, saying that he could get a job as a short-order cook.
Tony was glad to see a spark of the old Shahla. He said, “What do you think about going to school? I could drive you to your house to get some clothes and books.”
“The kidnapper probably knows what school I go to. He knew where I lived.” She hesitated. “I’m not up to school today. And won’t the kids have found out about me?”
Tony smacked his head with his hand. “We haven’t looked at the news.” He started toward the living room and then said, “Oh, I forgot, I don’t have a television set anymore. But I have a radio.”
The combination radio-CD player was in the living room. Tony turned on the radio and found a news station. Within a couple of minutes, one of the news anchors said, “Last night, a girl showed pluck and daring by escaping a would-be kidnapper in Bonita Beach.” He told the story, which must have been transmitted to the reporters by Lieutenant Stone. He didn’t say anything specific about where Shahla lived or where she was staying. Tony was referred to only as a friend. His name wasn’t mentioned.
“Good.” Tony was pleased. “Lieutenant Stone is protecting your privacy. We can take advantage of that. I have to call my office. Go ahead and finish getting dressed, and then we’ll put our heads together and try to create a plan of action. We certainly have more information than we had before.”
The telephone rang. The downstairs extension was in the kitchen, next to the family room.
“I’ll get it,” Shahla called. She was headed back toward the family room to pick up the rest of her clothes.
“Let me get it,” Tony said, following her as fast as he could. Maybe it was Mona, his boss. She often called him early in the morning with things for him to do. But by the time he got to the opening into the kitchen, Shahla had already answered it.
He heard her say, “Hello. Hello.” She looked at the phone with a puzzled expression. “Hang up. Just like we get at the Hotline.”
“Hang up?” Tony didn’t normally get hang ups. “Maybe whoever it was hung up because a girl answered,” he said as a small joke. Wishful thinking.
“Maybe it’s your girlfriend,” Shahla said. “The one who likes to put me down.”
“Carol? She’s my ex-girlfriend at this point. Very ex. And the likelihood of her calling me at this hour of the morning—or any hour—is about the same as the probability that we’ll get hit by a meteor today.” Unless she had had a falling-out with her boyfriend—Horace, or whatever is name was. More wishful thinking.
“I could hear something in the background that sounded like traffic noise. Whoever it was must have been calling from a cell phone.”
“That’s annoying. Makes it hard to hear. Like that caller I was reading about in the Green Book yesterday morning when I was trying to figure out what happened to you. It said he always played a television set in the background during his calls. Maybe he did it to help disguise his voice.”
“Who was that?”
“Someone called the Cackling Crucifier.”
“I remember him. He never gave the same name twice. He talked about religion and Jesus. You’re right; he always had a television playing. And he had a weird laugh. Why were you reading about him?”
“I’m not sure. I was going through the inactive pages and for some reason he sounded familiar.”
“He was worried about my immortal soul. He asked me if I was a Christian. He said he’d like to take me to church. He got pretty insistent. I was a little afraid of him.”
“Did he ever tell you where he lived?”
“No, he was very evasive. And then he stopped calling. I was relieved.”
Tony was trying to put some pieces together. “What if that call just now was actually from him? What if he’s trying to find out whether you’re here?”
“Huh?” Shahla looked at Tony as though she thought he had flipped. “I never gave him any personal information. Besides, he doesn’t even know you. How could he know where you live?”
“Stay with me. What if the reason he stopped calling was because he signed up to be a listener on the Hotline?”
“A listener? But who…?”
“How about Nathan? Didn’t he attend the training class that started soon after the Crucifier stopped calling? He certainly fits the religious profile.”
“Nathan? Nathan has some strange ideas, but I think he’s basically harmless. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself.”
“I’ve heard Nathan laugh. It could be described as a cackle.”
“I’ve never heard Nathan laugh that I can remember. And I’ve worked shifts with him. I’d certainly remember if he had a laugh like the Crucifier. ”
“Here’s my hypothesis. He always had to be very careful around you and the others he had talked to on the phone before. And he probably altered his voice somewhat when he was on the phone, like the Chameleon.”
“The Crucifier had a fairly high-pitched voice on the phone. Nathan’s voice is lower.”
“I saw a plastic device at the Chameleon’s apartment that is probably what he uses for voice alteration. I did a little research on the Internet and found similar devices that will make you sound younger—that is, they raise the pitch of your voice. Remember the night that Nathan and you and I were working, and I got a call from a guy who said he was a former listener and was badmouthing the other listeners? Talking about orgies and stuff? Nathan seemed to identify with him a little too well. As if he were in his shoes, perhaps as both a caller and a listener. Or is that theory all wet?”
Shahla thought for a moment. Then she said, “Maybe not. I heard you get up, but I couldn’t drag myself out of bed. I kept going over and over what happened last night
. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure I noticed something familiar about the guy.”
“Do you think you’ve seen him before?”
“I didn’t really see his face, and I couldn’t see his hair. But his size and the way he moved. It’s funny that we’ve been talking about Nathan.”
“He reminded you of Nathan?”
“I couldn’t come up with a name before, but maybe it is Nathan. You know how Nathan walks, kind of jerky, like a puppet being controlled by strings? This guy had the same awkward movement when he was trying to stop me from getting to the beach. He wasn’t graceful, like an athlete. If he had been better coordinated, he might have been able to do it. He was certainly big enough.”
Shahla paused. “But it wasn’t Nathan’s car, was it? I seem to remember that he drives a Jeep or something.”
“That’s my memory too,” Tony said. “But sometime after we attended that church service, it occurred to me that Nathan’s alibi didn’t hold water. He said he was at a service until eleven the night of the murder, but the way people came and went during the service we were at, he could have snuck out and never been missed.”
“He might even have returned before eleven.”
“Right. Let’s assume for a minute that it was Nathan who tried to kidnap you and that he called here just now. He could have gotten my phone number off the Hotline roster. He might have been calling to see if you’re still here. And of course your address is on the roster, too.”
“So he’s going to try again?” Shahla looked out the living room window at the swimming pool and shuddered.
“Don’t worry; it’s not going to happen.” Tony chastised himself for scaring her. “Go upstairs and get dressed. I’m going to call my boss and tell her I won’t be at work today. Then we’ll get on the computer. I found a website for the Church of the Risen Lord back when you and I attended the service. The first thing we’ll do is to check and see whether there’s any new information there.”
***
“Here it comes,” Tony said.
He was sitting in the swivel chair in front of his computer. Shahla was leaning over his shoulder, intently watching the screen. The home page of the Church of the Risen Lord appeared; it showed people being carried upward in an endless stream, presumably into heaven, where they acquired wings and started flitting about.
“It’s wonderful what can be done with graphics these days,” Tony said, hoping he didn’t sound too sarcastic. There were a number of hyperlinks on the page. Tony clicked on the one marked, “Day of Judgment.” A new page appeared on the screen. It was printed in large, bold text. Tony and Shahla read it together.
“To the Faithful: Hallelujah! The time we have been waiting for has arrived. Gather at the appointed place at sunset on Monday, September 30. Our Ascension will take place at midnight. You already have a copy of the bus schedules showing you how to get there by public transportation. Be sure to bring all your money in cash. Get a maximum cash advance on your credit cards. You must have divested all your worldly goods. Remember that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get into heaven. As we wait, we will conduct a prayer vigil and sing the praises of our Lord. Do not be late. Anybody who does not show up will be cast into the fiery pits and burned to ashes. You do not want to be among that number.” At the bottom, “Reverend Luther Hodgkins” was printed in larger, bolder letters.
“That’s tonight,” Shahla said.
“Time is running out,” Tony said. It was coming together. “That’s why Nathan isn’t driving his own car. He’s probably sold it and is driving a loaner or a rental. But if he wants to take another girl to heaven with him, he has to work fast.”
“Another? You mean Joy…?”
“Maybe it works something like the Muslim suicide bombers. They get seventy-seven virgins in heaven, give or take a few. Maybe Nathan has to collect his own.”
“You mean, if he kills them, he gets to have them in heaven? Tony, that’s horrible.”
“I know. We have to keep him away from you until tonight.”
“What happens at midnight when…nothing happens?”
“Hopefully, that will expose the Reverend Hodgkins as a fraud. But it would also help if Nathan has already been arrested. I wish we knew where this place was. But the good reverend is too clever to put it on the Internet. I suppose that the only ones who know it are those who have been faithfully attending the church services and giving willingly of their material possessions.”
“Should we tell Detective Croyden what we know?”
“Unfortunately, it’s mostly speculation. But we need to tell him something.” Tony tried to think. “We don’t have any reason to believe that Nathan has a gun or even knows how to use one. But if he did, he could shoot through my windows unless we kept the drapes closed all day. And we don’t want to feel like animals in a zoo. I suspect we’re better off somewhere else.”
Shahla looked out the window again at the pool she had run around to evade the kidnapper and said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Okay. We’ll first go to the Hotline office and find out Nathan’s address. I’m sure that Croyden already has it, but I want it for myself.”
CHAPTER 35
Tony had Shahla wait in the fenced-in patio behind his townhouse while he went through the wooden gate to the carport and carefully scanned it for anybody who shouldn’t be there. In fact, he saw nobody at all, although it was possible that someone might be hiding behind one of the other cars.
He quickly opened the passenger-side door of the Boxter and signaled Shahla to come out. She came, somewhat apprehensively, and once she had done her own look around, she scooted to the car, climbed in, and slammed the door.
Tony got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He was thankful for the purr that promised power, waiting to be called upon, that hopefully would keep them out of trouble today.
He compulsively checked out the other cars through his windows and mirrors during the short trip to the Hotline. He noticed that Shahla also kept swiveling her head. The usual mix of large and small vehicles filled Pacific Coast Highway, which was a grand name for a street like any other street, with traffic lights and congestion. Nobody looked suspicious, however; nobody seemed to have any particular interest in them.
Tony pulled into the parking lot of the shopping center where the Hotline building was located. He drove around to the back of the line of shops. The overflow parking spaces were located here. Here was where Joy had been snatched, and the park just behind the lot was where she had been murdered. Few cars were parked here at this time of the morning. Most were parked in front.
“We can keep an eye on the car from the window of the Hotline office,” Tony said. The window in the listening room overlooked the back parking area. Since Nathan had worked night shifts with Tony, he knew what kind of car Tony drove.
It would be easy to spot somebody loitering, since there were few cars and fewer people in sight. They went through the back door of the Hotline building. Shahla went toward the elevator, but Tony started up the stairs.
“If you’re a cross-country runner, you should be able to handle a couple of flights of stairs,” he said.
He started taking them two at a time. A shot of pain through his knee reminded him that he shouldn’t be doing anything this strenuous. Shahla flashed past him before he came to the first landing, and by the time he reached the third floor, she was standing there with her hands on her hips, not even breathing hard.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
At least she didn’t say it derisively. And because Tony had been forced to slow down to one step at a time, he wasn’t panting as they walked to the Hotline office. The door was unlocked. As they passed through the doorway into the first room, Tony could see Patty, the administrative assistant, working at a computer in the administration area. He rarely saw her since he worked on the phones at night, when she was going to school.
/> There was a girl in the listening room on the phone. Tony looked a question at Shahla.
“That’s Tina Rodriguez,” Shahla said. “She was in my training class. She’s in college.”
Shahla found a copy of the roster of listeners. Tony copied down Nathan’s address, his home telephone number, and his cell phone number. He had a Los Angeles address, which could be just about anywhere, but from the zip code, Tony figured that it wasn’t too far from the Church of the Risen Lord. His years of driving in Southern California on business had given him a good feel for the area.
Tony and Shahla walked into the office where Patty was working. She looked up and did a double take. “Shahla,” she exclaimed. “Are you all right? Detective Croyden called me at home yesterday and said that you were missing and did I know where you were. I was worried sick about you. Then this morning I read in the paper that you had escaped from a kidnapper.” She got up and gave Shahla a big hug.
“I’m fine,” Shahla said. “And Tony’s my bodyguard.”
In her relief, Patty gave Tony a hug, too. He had no objection.
“We have reason to believe that Nathan may be mixed up in this,” Tony said. “I’m going to call Detective Croyden.”
“Nathan?” Patty looked surprised. “I don’t know him very well because he usually works nights. But he always seemed kind of quiet and shy. I guess you never know about people.”
Tony knew the number at the Bonita Beach Police Station by heart. When he was connected to the desk officer, he asked for Detective Croyden. The officer informed him that Detective Croyden would not be in today.
“All day?” Tony asked in disbelief. He couldn’t imagine Croyden not working.
“He will be back tomorrow. Can anybody else help you?”
“How about Lieutenant Stone?”
“She will be in at three.”
“I’ll call back.” He hung up. “Damn. There’s no point in trying to tell the story to somebody who doesn’t know what’s going on.”
