by Bob Moats
“Yeah, well, I called San Francisco to see where Rocco’s daughter’s been. They say she went to Cabo for the last week. Might want to check the airlines to see if she made a side stop here.”
“Again, officially, stop investigating. But unofficially, thanks for the info. It helps. I’ll check back with you later to see if all is well there. Call me if trouble pops up.” He hung up, again without a good-bye.
I relayed the information to Penny who was now sitting on the edge of the bed. She was disappointed that she wouldn’t have another female in the overly testosterone filled house. I kissed her hand and said I could put on a dress if it would make her happy. She looked at me and said I’d be an ugly woman. I slapped her behind and asked if she was still sleepy. She wasn’t, so I got up and we went out to the family room. Buck was not there. I looked out the front window and saw him and two of the cops leaning on the car talking. I was glad he was getting over his police phobia. Penny and I sat on the couch and listened to the silence.
She giggled, then said, “Wanna get married after this is over?”
I stared at her a moment then said, “I thought we were having a long engagement first.”
“I thought so, too, but you’re old and could die before I get to inherit your fortune.”
I grimly said, “You mean my twenty year old car and the clothes on my back? You’d have to take care of my parents if I’m gone.”
“OK, so let’s do it.”
“We’ll discuss it after we catch the killer.”
“What if we never catch him? What if he escapes and disappears?”
“We’ll see, if that happens.”
“Spoil sport.”
Buck and Tim came back through the newly repaired front door, spotted us and sat down. They said they had the guard schedule all plotted out for the night, front and back of the house. Buck didn’t have to work for a couple more nights, so he was more than happy to camp out here. Penny thanked him.
We sat and talked for the next two hours, Deacon and Tim floating in and out of the house to guard. About 5:45 I told Penny that I was going to the house to do my thing. She kissed me and walked me to my car. I really hated to leave her, not just because of the killer, but because I just didn’t want to leave her. But I did.
I traveled again back down Groesbeck Highway and turned onto Fifteen Mile Road just as a car crossed over the lane heading right towards me. I panicked but kept my head, steered the car to the right, up over the curb, across railroad tracks, stopping just before dropping down an embankment and into a gully. I looked back, saw the car had slowed and saw what looked like a woman at the wheel. She was watching me. She then sped off, leaving me with my heart beating up in my throat.
A guy in a pickup truck had seen the incident and stopped to see if I was all right. He helped me get my car back over the tracks and onto the road. He said the car was a black ‘99 Pontiac SSE Bonneville, but couldn’t read the license plate on the back of the car. He said the plate was covered with mud, looked like it was smeared on.
I thanked him and drove off toward my parents. I was watching around for that car, using the image in my head. I wouldn’t know one car make from another, but I would remember that one. The killer tried to make a metal sculpture out of me. That worried me. I arrived at my parents’ house, paused to watch for the car, but didn’t see it. I was concerned for my parents. I would have to talk to Trapper about the attack and about them. Would the killer go after them to spite me? Would he bother to take time from killing the cheerleaders to waste on me? I really thought not. I helped Mom with the nightly routine, then excused myself again and headed back to Penny’s, watching the roads carefully.
I got back about 6:50, took Buck aside and told him what happened. He was pissed. I told him not to say anything to Penny about it. I met Penny in the kitchen and gave her a real big lip lock, glad to be alive. I wasn’t going to mention the attack. It would just worry her. I told her I had a call to make, went into the bedroom and called Trapper. I related the incident, and he agreed it sounded like a deliberate attack. He said they had Grolich under house arrest for her own good. She also received an email threat when they got back to her home. The Birmingham police were on the scene with warnings about prior murder M.O. They said they would be vigilant. Trapper told me to cover my ass and hung up.
I sat on the bed thinking. Penny softly knocked on the door.
“Come on in,” I said.
“You OK? You looked a little pale when you got back. Parents OK?” she asked, as she sat next to me.
“Everyone’s fine. I’m just a little worn down. Showing my age, that’s all.” I gave her a big smile and kissed her cheek.
“I told you we should get married right away. Us old people should go for the gusto while we can.” She grinned.
“Who are you calling old? I’m only thirty-nine,” I stated.
“In dog years,” she countered.
I looked at her, got up and left her alone in the room.
“Hey, not nice,” she yelled.
I peeked back around the door and said, “Us old people aren’t nice.” Then I went to the family room. She came in and went to the kitchen. I followed.
“Just where a woman should be, in the kitchen. Take your shoes off. You should be barefoot, too.” I laughed.
She threw a plastic cup at my head. I ducked.
She pulled a package of smoked sausages out of the fridge and told me to tell everyone who might be hungry that she was nuking sausages in the microwave and serving with the rest of the potato salad.
All those who responded came and ate. Then Buck, Penny and I went to the family room again to sit and watch James Bond on DVD. Buck stretched out on the recliner and said he was going to nap.
I looked at Buck then said to Penny, “Gee, dear, aren’t you so proud of our son? Just look how big he has grown.”
Penny laughed.
Buck lifted his head from the recliner and raised a finger in salute.
“Hey, young man, don’t you go giving the finger to your father!” Penny scolded.
Buck raised both fingers in reply.
We laughed.
The phone rang and Penny got up to answer. She handed the phone to me.
“Hello?”
“Richards, it’s Trapper. I’ve got some bad news. I got a call from the chief of police and was informed we don’t have the man power to keep four men on protection. I explained that an attempt was already made and would happen again. He was sympathetic, but we are shorthanded on the roads. Since the last millage didn’t pass, we had to cut our staff. He said I could keep one man on, but the rest have to go back to duty. Sorry, man, nothing more I can do.”
“Crap, that’s just fine. They need to write tickets, not save lives,” I said bitterly.
“Jim, I understand how you feel. My hands are tied. I have to pull three back. Let them decide who stays. Worse yet, I can’t put anyone on Grolich. Chief feels the Birmingham police should shoulder the burden. If either woman is killed, I’m going to rub it in his face. Subtly, but it will be a rub. Watch yourselves.” He hung up.
“Shit.” I very rarely swear aloud, but this was for a good reason. Penny asked what was wrong. Buck rose up in the chair and waited. I told them what Trapper said. Buck cursed, but Penny took it in stride.
“I’ve still got you two strong men to watch me. Wasn’t it the two of you who protected me last night?”
If she was trying to make me feel better, it wasn’t working.
Deacon came into the house just then and said they got the call on the car radio. He said that he had volunteered to stay on. The others were leaving.
We went out to thank them and say good-bye. We stood in the front yard. I looked at Buck, wondering what now.
Buck spoke first. “Can’t let this get us down. We can do it, just have to be a bit more watchful, but we can do it.”
“I have every confidence in the three of you to save my skin.” Penny smiled. She was still
such a little cheerleader, even now.
She continued, “Let’s just get through this night. I’m going to call the studio and tell them I’m coming back to work tomorrow. I need the change. Besides, there are more people there who can be on watch. I’ll just have to level with them.”
I had to agree with that. We would stick close, and with everybody watching, she would probably be safe.
“OK, it’s a plan, but we’ll have to figure something different for tomorrow night. Different place, maybe,” I said. “Deacon, is that OK with you?”
“I always wanted to watch a TV show being made. I like it.” He grinned.
Buck went to his van and took a small case out of the back. He handed it to me, and I opened it to find an army .45, in excellent shape. I closed the box and said I would take good care of it.
We went in, and after going around turning on all the lights in the house and out of the house, we all sat in the family room talking. I suggested to Penny that she and I should be in the guest room tonight to throw off any attempts by the killer. Buck said he’d take the master bedroom but wouldn’t sleep, just sit by the door with his .38. I told him to set his chair up against the door so he could sleep, but if someone attempted to come in, he’d know. He liked that idea.
I said we could just all sit in the family room all night partying, but we’d be miserable in the morning. Everyone agreed on the group party. Penny leaned over to me, whispering that we’d have to pass on sex tonight if we did that. I looked at her and said I thought we could manage for one night. We’d just have to make up for it later.
For the next six hours, Buck and Deacon took turns looking out windows. Everyone was on edge and ready for a sneak attack. Buck had his gun tucked in his belt. I had the .45 tucked behind me in my belt. I made Penny lie down on the couch to sleep. She had to look good for the camera tomorrow. She argued but gave in. She was tired. I prowled from front room to kitchen and back. Buck said we should maybe sleep in shifts and told me to go first. I was really wasted by then. It was 3 A.M. so I stretched out on the recliner. I told Buck to wake me in an hour. He didn’t.
I woke at 7:30 and scolded Buck for not waking me earlier. He just grinned. Penny was already up and in the bathroom getting ready. We all piled into Buck’s van. It was the only vehicle that would support both Buck and Deacon. We headed down the I-94 freeway to I-696, then down the Southfield Freeway to the TV studio.
Penny guided us through the gate guard, who was glad to see her back. We went in the studio entrance, Penny using her passcard. Penny was greeted by her gaggle of helpers, assistants and make-up people. She asked the floor manager to call everyone to sit in the audience seats, she had to say something. The floor manager looked from me up to Buck then up to Deacon and back down to Deacon’s big gun. He went off calling people. After a couple of minutes, everyone was seated, and Penny came up front.
“Thank you all for your patience. I have to ask everyone to be on their toes today. My life has been threatened, and the killer was here the other day during my last show. These two men and the officer are my body guards.” She smiled at me. “But it would really help if you could be on the lookout for suspicious activity or people doing what they shouldn’t be doing. Besides, if you keep me alive then Phil won’t be doing my show anymore.” The crew all cheered at that, and Phil gave everyone the finger, but smiled.
I interrupted. “Please be on the lookout for any audience member moving away from the group or someone you don’t know wandering the building. If you do see someone, call security and keep the person in sight, but do not attempt to stop them. This person has already murdered four women.”
The group murmured, and then Penny spoke. “OK, everyone, we have a show to get on tape. Stay alert, but go about your business.” She headed back to her dressing room as we stuck close. She was so commanding, I felt turned on. I whispered it to her. She said she’d deal with me later.
She went to the dressing table and sat quietly while her hair and make-up people did their magic. The hair stylist was making eyes at Deacon. He turned red. Everyone was deathly quiet otherwise. The floor manager stopped in, giving Penny her guest sheet and question cards. Penny looked at the sheet and smiled.
She looked at me. “Today we have the director of the ‘Detroit Light House,’ a shelter for battered women. Isn’t that ironic? I will ask him if he knows of Julia Waters.”
I took the sheet and read the bio on the guy. He had worked mostly around Michigan at various shelters, but it didn’t say anything about his connections. He was a person of interest, as the police would say.
“He may be of interest to talk to after the show. Maybe fill us in on Julia,” I said.
The call came in for ten minutes until taping. Penny headed out with her groupies following. We followed the groupies.
She went to the stage and greeted Benjamin Brooks, the director of Light House. She told him to sit in the guest chair and explained how things worked. He just sat there nodding his head, and then the lights went on to warm up to full power. The audience was already in their seats. I scanned the group looking for anyone suspicious. Buck went around the other side of the stage and planted himself on a stool. Deacon went behind the set and watched from the stage crew’s monitor of the set. The crew greeted him and explained what went on back stage. I made a walk around the set, checking all the nooks and crannies to see if there was a way anyone could attack Penny without being seen. The show was starting.
The floor manager became the floor director and called for all cameras to take their marks. He went to the audience and prompted them as to how to watch the applause signs and respond. He ran them through a couple of tests and was satisfied.
He called up to the control booth and turned it over to them. The sound engineer tested and adjusted all the mics. He was satisfied. The opening music came up, and the opening credits rolled on the monitor. A short montage of shots, of Penny around the Detroit area ran, and then it went live to her.
“Good afternoon, Metro Detroit. I’m Penny Wickens. Welcome to “Penny for Your Thoughts,” Penny shouted.
The applause sign lit, and the audience responded.
“Today we have as our guest Benjamin Brooks, director of the Detroit Light House, a non-profit shelter for abused women.” Applause again.
“Welcome, Mr. Brooks.” She smiled.
“Please call me Ben. My father was Mr. Brooks.” He smiled back.
“Well, call me Penny. Ben, please tell us the purpose of the Light House.”
For the next half hour Ben went on about his aspirations for Light House, sounding a bit pompous. He definitely was in it for the glory. Penny finally broke the ice.
“Ben, do you know of Julia Waters and her work in Chicago with battered and abused women?”
He seemed to be thrown by the question for a brief moment. He recovered then flashed his expensive teeth and replied, “Why, yes, I know of her work. She is an inspiration to all shelters around the country. She has helped establish important legislation in regard to spousal abuse.” He paused.
Before he could say anything more, I heard a small screeching noise and looked up to where it came from. I looked over to Buck. He heard it, too, and was also looking up. Suddenly I saw Buck leap off the stool and crash into Penny, Ben and their chairs, knocking them off to the side. Barely seconds after, a light bar came crashing down in the same spot where Penny and the guest had sat. I jumped forward to the stage. Deacon came tearing through the curtain from behind the set, and we stood looking up.
I couldn’t see anything in the dark. I yelled to get lights turned up overhead. The stage crew was scrambling around, and someone flipped on the work lights. The stage lit overhead, but we couldn’t see anything on the catwalk. Then I saw a flash of movement off to the side of the rigging. Buck was up, helping Penny and Ben off the floor. I called to Buck, pointed to the direction of the movement and headed that way.
I yelled to Deacon to watch Penny. He moved over to her. Bu
ck and I went around back and heard a door slamming. We went that way. We were chasing a ghost, ever ahead of us, but we followed. Down halls and through other sets in the station. I didn’t realize how many rooms and places there were in the small looking building. We came to the last door we heard close, crashed through it with guns drawn. We came face to face with the gate guard, on break, smoking a cigarette, looking shocked.
“Wow, this no smoking thing is getting serious,” he said, shaking.
*
Chapter Twelve
Penny and her guest were resting in her dressing room. The audience was told it was just an accident and asked them to be patient while they fixed the problem. I called Trapper and relayed the incident to him. He said he couldn’t do much since we were in Southfield, but to have the local police call him for any questions about the connection with his cases. I told him we weren’t planning on bringing in the local police. We already knew it wasn’t going to help. He had to agree and said to keep him informed. I asked how Linda was holding up. He said they moved her to a safe house despite her protests.
