Lainie served each of us a still-steaming slice and then asked about my life, which was in many ways similar to hers. I had two brothers and one sister. I was the oldest and the biggest disappointment to my father, who had spent years telling his buddies at the steel mill I was going to go to college and become an engineer. But Christine’s murder had changed everything. I was distraught and unfocused. When I chose a job working at the local newspaper, he was insulted, and he never missed a chance to tell me so. Eventually, I moved to Raleigh to take an investigative position with the Herald.
She suddenly stopped me and said, “Oh my god, Tucker, this pizza is incredible!” She wiped her mouth with her napkin and leaned back and closed her eyes in sheer pleasure. When she opened her eyes, she said, “Sorry I was having a moment. Okay, what were you saying?” What is it with women and orgasms about non-orgasmic stuff?
I continued my saga telling her about my first marriage, which produced my beautiful daughter, and about meeting Maggie and living the life I have today.
We finished off the pizza but were too stuffed to indulge in the cheesecake, which was so disgustingly delicious it should be illegal. Probably for the best. Lainie would definitely have had another “moment.”
CHAPTER 35
After paying the bill, we rolled ourselves out to the Jag. It was five minutes past nine o’clock.
“Sorry, but we fooled around in there too long, and now it’s too late to go to the mall and get you something to sleep in,” I said.
“That’s all right. I don’t do pajamas anyway. I can sleep in an old T-shirt and shorts if you have some.”
We got to the estate shortly before nine thirty. I pulled directly into the guesthouse garage, and Lainie got out with her Glock in her hand. When I opened the connecting door, she said, “You wait here. I’ll go in and make sure the area hasn’t been compromised.”
“Compromised?” I said. “I’d just make sure nobody broke in.”
She narrowed her eyes at me and slowly walked in. Oscar let loose a piercing bark, and Lainie jumped back with her hand to her throat.
“Thanks. You could’ve warned me about that.”
I grinned as I pulled Lainie’s bag and a large duffle from the trunk. We walked in, and after turning on all the lights, we met in the living area.
She had done a walk-thru and put her weapon down. “This place is kind of small. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay in the main house?”
“Positive,” I said. “It’s just too big. Somebody could be in that house and on us before we even knew what happened. The guesthouse is small, but it’s easier to defend.”
“But all these windows—”
“Yep,” I nodded, “a lot of windows, but Plum’s not going to shoot you through a window. He wants to take your head … while you’re still alive. And for that he’s got to come inside.
“No, we’ll be safer out here,” I said. “Besides, we have goodies.”
I knelt down and unzipped the large duffel bag I’d brought in and began removing things one by one. “One pair of night vision goggles,” I said, “with infrared sensitivity.” I set them on the floor. “One Kevlar vest. You’re more than welcome to use it, but it probably won’t fit right because it doesn’t have room for your … uh … anyway, it’s made for a man.”
I slid the shotgun out of the bag. “Remington 870 12 Gauge, eighteen inch long barrel, four rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber.” I examined the weapon. “Yep, nothin’ like a shotgun for close range defense.” I continued pulling out items: four boxes of Federal 12 gauge #00 Buck shotshells, 1210 feet per second, nine pellets per shell; forty rounds of Winchester .44 special caliber silver tipped hollow points; two .44 caliber speed loaders for an N-frame Smith & Wesson revolver; a Sig Sauer Model P556 SWAT tactical semi-automatic pistol with a thirty shot magazine and flash suppressor, chambered in 5.56mm NATO; two spare thirty shot magazines; three hundred rounds of Winchester 5.56mm NATO ammunition with 55 grain full metal jacket bullets; and three boxes of Raisinets.
I looked up at Lainie. “What do ya think?”
She stared wide-eyed and said nothing for a moment. Then, “Give me the shotgun, the shells, and one box of Raisinets.” We both laughed.
Oscar followed me as I left to find something for Lainie to sleep in. A few minutes later, we returned with a pair of grey pull-on athletic shorts and a T-shirt.
“Hope you don’t mind the Chicago Bulls,” I said.
“That’ll be fine.”
I pointed to the shotgun. “You want me to load that for you?”
“I know how to load a shotgun, funny man.” She opened the box of shotshells and inserted four of them into the magazine. “But I’m not putting one in the chamber. That’s a little reckless for me.” She took the gun with her, walked into Amanda Jane’s bedroom, and closed the door. A few minutes later, she was back with her hair down and wearing the clothes I’d given her.
“Not too bad,” she said, “but the shorts are pretty big. I have the drawstring pulled tight, but I look like a balloon butt.”
I laughed and had to agree. “There are extra blankets in the closet if you need them.”
“Thanks, Ben … for caring.” She turned toward the bedroom. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to call it a night.”
I smiled at her. “I don’t mind. Get some rest. Oscar and I are going to stay up for a while.” As she walked away, I added, “If you want anything to eat or drink later, there’s plenty of stuff in the refrigerator. And if that’s not good enough, we can armor up and go raid the big house.” I put the night vision goggles on my head and got a smile out of her. “Now git!”
Pure Reason and I took Superman outside. “Let’s be quick and stay close to the door tonight, little guy. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. He looked up at me with big puppydog eyes as he peed on one of Hector’s prized hostas.
When we came back inside, I sat on the floor and spent the next hour loading the .44 caliber speed loaders and the three magazines for the Sig. By the time I finished, my index finger and the thumb on my right hand were sore.
Oscar had been patiently sitting next to me watching. I reached over and rassled with him for a few minutes and then picked him up, and we sat on the sofa. He went around and around in circles before he lay down next to me. Why do they do that?
Oscar suddenly tensed—he was frozen, staring into the hall. I looked in the same direction and jumped. Lainie was standing there holding the shotgun.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “Did I frighten you?”
I took a deep ragged breath. “Hell, yes! With all that red hair stickin’ out like that? It looked like a damn scarecrow walkin’ in here.”
“Very funny,” she said. “I’m having trouble getting to sleep. I keep thinking about what might have happened if you hadn’t called me when you did. Can I come out and join you guys for a while?”
I pointed to the armchair. “Sit.”
She sunk into the chair, tucked one leg under her, and set the shotgun on the floor. She squinted at Oscar, who was no longer tense, sprawled on the sofa. So much for Mister big scary watchdog. “Are his claws blue?”
I shook my head. “Don’t ask.”
“Do you have any more wine?”
“Got a shitload,” I said. “Sit tight.” I returned and handed her a glass of Cabernet. I had poured myself a glass of scotch, and we clinked glasses for the second time that night.
The last time I’d had drinks with a woman to soothe her nerves, I ended up in bed with her. At least I didn’t have to worry about that this time. There’s something about a maniacal killer wanting to rip off your head that kills the mood.
“I just keep thinking how lucky I was,” she said.
“Well, we were due for a break. It seems like he’s had luck on his side until now. Maybe the tide’s shifted in our direction.”
“What does the F stand for in your middle initial?”
“Franklin.”
She p
opped her eyebrows up. “You’re kidding. Benjamin Franklin?”
“What can I say? My dad was real big on the founding fathers. My brothers’ names are Thomas Jefferson Tucker and George Washington Tucker. But my sister Alex screwed him up when she was born.”
“Don’t tell me,” Lainie said.
“Yep, my baby sister … Alexandra Hamilton Tucker … she’s a sweetheart.”
Lainie laughed. “God, if I was your mother, I would have killed him. How did you all survive childhood?”
“I’m just happy the founding fathers didn’t include Millard Fillmore.”
CHAPTER 36
It was my pounding headache that woke me up at two fifteen in the morning, the aftermath of a half bottle of wine followed later by three rather large glasses of scotch. At that moment, the thought of Plum cutting my head off didn’t seem so bad.
I sat on the edge of my bed and rubbed my temples. Suddenly I sensed something on the bed behind me and shot up. What the hell! Pale moonlight streaming through the bedroom window washed gently over Lainie’s naked body. She opened her eyes, raised her head slightly, and looked around, dazed. She sank back down on the pillow and covered her eyes with her arm.
“Aw, Christ!” she said. “I can’t believe it!”
Lainie threw back the covers, sat up, and put on the Bulls T-shirt. She sat for a minute staring into the dark. Then she stood, pulled on her shorts, and stumbled slowly toward the bedroom door.
“Lainie?”
“Not now, Tucker! In the morning.” She walked out and slammed the bedroom door. I could hear her mumbling as she walked toward Amanda Jane’s bedroom.
“I can’t believe it. I can’t fucking believe it.”
Oscar was curled up in the bedroom armchair looking up at me through sleepy eyes. “What are you lookin’ at?” I said. He didn’t reply, but I think he gave me a disparaging look. “Well, you could have stopped me.” He turned his head the other way and closed his eyes.
The events that led up to this were fuzzy. I remembered Lainie saying she was going back to bed. I got up to take her empty glass and our fingers touched. Things must have deteriorated from there. I really didn’t remember anything past that. Whatever happened to, “Trust me, Tucker, it’s not going to happen?”
There was a light tap at my door.
“Come on in,” I said softly.
The door opened slowly, and Lainie walked in. I watched her as she walked around to the other side of the bed, picked up her panties and the shotgun that were lying on the floor, and headed back to the door.
“I might need this,” she said referring to the gun.
“We probably don’t have to worry about Plum anymore tonight,” I said, shamefully.
“I wasn’t talking about Plum,” she said and slammed the door again.
Reality began to sink into my throbbing head. I had cheated on Maggie, something I swore I would never do—this on the heels of the incident the other day with Patty. What the hell was wrong with me? I took my wedding vows very seriously. I’d been through a lot over the past nine days, but that was no excuse. A difficult experience does not justify immoral behavior. My thoughts went back to Dr. Whitley warning me about self-destructive behavior. She was right, but it was too late. I really was losing it—just like after Christine’s murder. But my situation was different this time. I had responsibilities—a marriage, a daughter, a career. I really needed to get a grip. Dear god, help me keep it together.
I went into my bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and shook out a couple of aspirin. What the hell. I shook out two more. My head was splitting, but I totally deserved it.
I’d never felt so ashamed in my life, and I could barely look at myself in the mirror. What would I do if Maggie ever found out? Things like this always have a way of coming back to bite you. In fact, this was exactly the kind of dirt I’d been very good at digging up while working at the Herald.
Oscar jumped down off his chair and followed me around as I pulled on a pair of blue plaid flannel pajama bottoms and checked the guesthouse doors. With my head up my ass, they could have all been standing wide open with an engraved invitation for Plum to waltz right in and do his customary hack job.
We went outside, so he could pee and see what the garden smelled like at three in the morning. He didn’t seem all that impressed, and the two of us shuffled back in and climbed into bed. I thought about Maggie. I would be devastated if she slept with one of the Chippendales. The thought of it made me sick.
All I could do now was make sure it never happened again. My solemn promise to myself didn’t help much, though. I wrapped my arms around Oscar like a security blanket. He had already forgiven me and snuggled up. But I would never forgive myself.
I wondered how Netter and Cox were doing in Lainie’s apartment. We would have heard something if Plum had attempted round two.
Several hours later, the sound of running water coaxed me from sleep. Lainie was up. The clock said 7:15, and I needed to drag myself out of bed, shower, and face the music.
When I finished dressing, I opened my bedroom door and walked into the living area. Lainie was standing by the large window looking toward the main house. She was wearing blue jeans and an ivory colored blouse.
“Hi,” I said softly.
She glanced at me and then stared back out the window again. “Hi.” She looked confused and remorseful, like she wasn’t sure what to do.
“Maybe we should talk,” I said.
She continued to look out the window as she spoke. “Look, Ben. There’s nothing to talk about. I know you’re happily married. It’s totally obvious you love your wife very much. I shouldn’t have let things get out of hand like they did.”
“I’m very, very sorry,” I said. “I just don’t know what happened last night.”
“Actually,” Lainie said, “I don’t think anything really happened last night.”
“What do you mean?”
“I remember that you passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow … and I just drifted off … I think.” She paused momentarily. “But the issue is that something could have happened … and that’s a slap-in-the-face wakeup call to me.”
She sniffled once and backed up slightly. “Well,” she added. “One thing’s for sure. I can’t stay here anymore. I’ll check into a hotel.”
“No way, Lainie! I’m not giving that lunatic a chance to hurt you because of my idiocy.” She started to argue. “No!” I said firmly. “You’re staying here, and that’s the end of it! We now understand the situation, and we can deal with it.”
She looked at me warily, unsure. “Do you honestly think something like this won’t happen again?”
“Positive,” and I meant it. “I swear to god I won’t let it happen again.” We stood and just looked at each other for several moments. She never did answer, but I could tell from her deep sigh that she’d agreed to give it another night.
She looked at her watch. “I have to get to the task force meeting, but we need to stop for coffee, bad.”
I did my best Netter impression. “How about a quad venti super-doop skinny Austrian goat milk upside down mocha crappuccino?”
She finally broke a smile. “That’s better. Thank you, Ben.”
After throwing my golf clubs in the Jag’s trunk, we headed out to hunt for joe. Thirty-five minutes later, after cruising through a Dunkin’ Donuts drive-thru, I dropped Lainie off at the Cary PD. We agreed that I’d give her a call after my golf game with Marcus.
The Highlands Country Club was only about fifteen minutes away. I was surprised to see the parking lot only a quarter full as I hoisted my golf bag from the trunk and headed for the clubhouse.
Marcus was already there, and he looked like—a golfer.
“Nice duds,” I said.
We shook hands, and he took my bag. “Mine’s already in the cart.” He walked over to it and put my bag next to his. “You take this strap and feed it around the bag and through the handle, like this. T
hen you put it through here and close the lever.” He sounded like he was talking to a five-year-old. Well, if the shoe fits.
“Got it,” I nodded. It looked simple enough.
Marcus had already paid for both of us. I tried to pay him back, but he waved me off. We spent the next fifteen minutes putting balls on the practice green. It was one part of this little frolic where I didn’t think I looked too stupid. But that was not to last.
Finally, we headed for the first tee.
“It’s just the two of us today,” Marcus said.
“How’d you swing that?” I asked.
He grinned. “A fifty on the side will do it.” He showed me where the green was and pointed to the tee. “Okay, Ben. Show me how it’s done.”
I teed my ball, swung, and bounced it straight in front. But it was enough to make the fairway by a few yards.
“All right!” Marcus said. He grabbed his driver and stepped up to the tee. He drove his ball about two hundred sixty-five yards on the left side of the fairway. I whistled, impressed.
He put his club in his bag. “I gotta tell ya, Ben, with everything that’s been going on, I’m surprised you haven’t got that cannon with ya.”
We climbed into the cart and sat. “Who said I didn’t have it?”
He looked at me surprised.
I thumbed behind us. “It’s back there in the bag. I’d have it on now if I could swing a golf club while wearin’ that damn shoulder holster.”
The frolicking continued. I sucked, but I have to confess, it was fun. We finished the third hole, and Marcus drove us to the number four tee, looking up at the clear blue sky.
“God, what a day! Can I pick ‘em, or what?” He flipped open the scorecard. “So what were the damages back there? I had a five.”
I looked back at number three. “Frankly, I can’t remember whether it was thirteen or fourteen.”
Vengeance is Mine - A Benjamin Tucker Mystery Page 21
