Revenge: A Clancy Evans Mystery (Clancy Evans PI Book 4)

by M. Glenn Graves

  Since it was late in the day, we decided to wait her out. I also kept an eye out for Diamond, although I knew that she would be impossible to detect unless she wanted to be seen. I figured that Saunders would have to make her move within an hour or so because of her injury.

  After forty-five minutes of sitting and watching employees and late afternoon patients leaving the office, Rosey and I decided to do some perimeter surveillance. I took the high road and skirted the building and parking lot by way of the small hill behind the complex. Rosey took the low road and canvassed the parking lot and lower areas, then climbed the easier terrain to our meeting place. We met on the backside of the office complex with nothing to report to each other. There was a grove of trees on the hill overlooking Jones-McCann’s practice. Rosey and I were standing behind the trees, hidden from the parking area. Nothing was moving below us.

  I turned to survey the scenery behind us. I spotted a Dairy Bar sign about five hundred yards away from our present location. I had a notion.

  We returned to the Jag. I left Rosey and Sam sitting on the curb at the far end of the parking lot just below the hillside. I drove to the Dairy Bar. An aging white pickup was parked by the dumpster at the back of the eatery. It was in good condition. The cab was empty except for what appeared to be blood stains.

  I hurried back to the doctor’s parking lot. I reported my discovery to Rosey.

  Despite the presence of two cars in the lot, the doors to the building were all locked. We broke a large window in the back and entered. No alarms sounded.

  We found two nurses and Dr. Jones-McCann bound and gagged in separate rooms. Everyone was safe, just frightened and happy to be alive. We learned that Saunders had taken the doctor’s car, so she gave us the particulars on the vehicle and I called Wineski in Norfolk to send it on down the line to the highway patrol. No Diamond around to dissuade me from doing my duty.

  “How bad was the gunshot?” I asked Dr. Jones-McCann.

  “She’s weak from blood loss, but the wound itself was clean. There was no bullet inside her.”

  “And the wound itself?”

  “It left a nice hole, but I cleaned it and gave her a shot for pain and one for a possible infection. She’ll live unless she does something stupid and gets the wound infected or causes it start bleeding again.”

  “What kind of weapon did she have?”

  “I don’t know anything about guns. It was a pistol.”

  “Did you notice whether it was flat or rounded?”

  “I noticed that it was big. I had no desire to do anything that would get me shot. I cleaned her wound, dressed it, and gave her the injections. She then tied me up and left with my car keys. I assume she took my car.”

  “Sorry about that, doc,” I said.

  “Not me.”

  “Oh, why?”

  “It has little gas and the muffler is shot. I doubt if she gets very far in it. The loud muffler will attract attention.”

  Chapter 29

  “I should be more specific,” I said to Rosey who was chastising me for bringing Diamond into our chase.

  “Hindsight.”

  “We’re down to one animal lurking about to destroy my family and friends.”

  “A more dangerous lurking animal.”

  “Wounded prey,” I said.

  “Precisely.”

  “So, I’m counting on some days of R&R.”

  “She’s not a professional like Diamond. Can’t count on that. Saunders is a clever, insane, serial murderer who hates you and anyone you love. Revenge is her driving force. Don’t count on any interruption of her plans simply because she is wounded. When she is dead, you can relax.”

  “Maybe a slow down. I think she needs some rest.”

  “The smart thing to do would be to hole up a week or so,” Rosey said. “But I don’t see Saunders doing the smart thing. I think she’s mad as hell at you, and I’m betting that she will do something dangerously stupid.”

  “In addition to all the other dangerously stupid things she has been doing in the last several days?”

  “Point taken. But I am concerned about her wounded state and the revenge she is so desperately seeking. I’m figuring she will come after you with a scathing vengeance now.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much. By now she knows I sent a sniper after her. Maybe we can use this to our advantage.”

  “You have a plan?” Rosey said.

  “No, just a prevailing philosophy. I want to stay alive and I want to protect my family and friends from this lunatic.”

  “So what do we do next?”

  “Drink some coffee and eat a doughnut.”

  “Throwback to your police days.”

  “Just a weakness I have for caffeine and sugar.”

  I convinced Rosey that Saunders wouldn’t do anything for a few days, so we headed back to Norfolk. I also was thinking that if Saunders was doing some surveillance on us, then returning to my home base for a few days might cause her to leave Clancyville alone. Might.

  Our Thanksgiving meal would be delayed a day or so. It was too risky to drop in on Aunt May and mother, so I had Rogers’s use one of her secure lines to call them. Rogers reported that they were doing fine. My mother was her usual gracious self complaining about her captivity and wondering why her super-duper detective daughter hadn’t subdued the miserable woman as yet.

  “She really used the expression super-duper?” I said to Rogers as we passed the city limits sign for Norfolk. It was after ten o’clock.

  “My data collection does not lie. I can play the actual recording for you or provide you with a printout, if you prefer.”

  “No. Don’t need verification. Sounds like my mother’s sarcasm.”

  I told her about the latest escapade with Saunders and her narrow escape from our grasp.

  “Wonder why she did not kill the doctor. You’ve known her a long time.”

  “Her knowledge of my relationships must be limited.”

  “Speaking of which, I called your brother and he sends his regards.”

  “Where did you find him?”

  “He found me. Called from Los Angeles. And, yes, before you ask, I told him it would be best if he stayed away from Richmond until I called him again.”

  “And?”

  “Apparently it was no problem. He said he had business in the Midwest for at least another week or so. He promised to check in now and then.”

  Once we arrived at my place, I had to convince Rosey to sleep over. He had a business associate he was to meet in D.C. the next day. He reluctantly agreed to stay the night and leave early the next morning.

  We both crashed after the long day. Chasing bad girls is tiring work, especially if you do not catch them. The last thing I remember was listening to Sam snore in a kind of counter-rhythm to Rosey’s heavy breathing.

  The dream I had was nothing less than a nightmare. Reminiscent of the dangerous experience Scott and I had as children during our daddy’s tenure as the Sheriff of Pitt County, I was Saunders’ captive next to the Staunton River. When I was eleven and Scott was nine, we were attacked by a man who wanted to kill us because we had helped our father solve one of the biggest crimes ever in Pitt County. We were rescued by Joe Jenkins, the man who was originally accused of the crime. Mr. Joe was the uncle who ultimately raised Roosevelt Washington after his mother gave him up.

  Saunders had me bound and gagged in my dream and was about to throw me into the river when she was shot and killed. I tried without success to see who had shot her, but my restraints kept me from any visual contact with the person who had saved me. I could hear the leaves rustling because of the wind. Someone was walking towards me, I kept waiting for a face to appear, and then suddenly I could feel the cold steel of a rifle barrel against the side of my head. I tried to turn my head to see who was holding the rifle, but, well, that’s the way it is with dreams sometimes. I couldn’t move in that direction, so all I could do was feel the desperation of the situation as I waiting
for what might happen next.

  I woke up in a sweat. The last sensations of the ropes that secured me where still present on my arms and legs. After several minutes of lying in bed reflecting upon the dream, I moved. My hand stretched out and touched the head of Sam who was sitting on his back haunches next to me. I patted his head and looked at the clock. It was 6:42.

  Sam nosed me as if to be reassured that I was okay. I must have cried out or moaned or made some kind of sound to attract his attention. I got up slowly, waddled to the door of my bedroom and looked towards the sofa to see if Rosey was still asleep. He was gone. It was light enough in the room so I could see a note penned to the computer monitor. Rogers would love that.

  The note read thanks and see you soon.

  I made coffee, showered, and readied myself for a day of rest. I was hoping that Saunders was off somewhere nursing her wounds and plotting my demise. It took three cups of coffee for me to shake off the effects of the nightmare.

  Throughout the day I replayed the short tape of the dream. I was bound and gagged and ready to be thrown into the Staunton River by Marilyn Saunders. I knew that I would surely drown. Then Saunders is shot and killed. I think I am about to be rescued only to find myself at the mercy of yet another person who places a rifle barrel to the side of my head. I cannot move enough to see the face of my would-be killer. I must have reviewed that wretched scene more than twenty times without concluding anything except that it must have been the effects of the pizza we had when we stopped for supper at a small place outside of Franklin. What is it with spicy pizza and weird dreams.

  Chapter 30

  It was another rainy day in Norfolk, but not quite so cold. More balmy than chilly. Typical late November Norfolk day. There were only a few trees around my apartment building, but the wind was blowing them enough for the last few leaves to fall. The rain helped that process as well.

  I tried to read to clear my mind from the nightmare, but I spent more time dozing on the sofa than I did reading. It was mid afternoon when the ringing of the apartment phone awakened me from my slumbering. Several rings into the call I picked up after determining that Rogers was not going to answer it.

  “You play dirty,” the voice said.

  It took a moment for me to regroup from my sleepy stupor. I recognized the voice of Saunders.

  “I play to win.”

  “Oh, but you will not win.”

  “How’s the wound?”

  “Hurts, but it is healing. Just takes some time, you know. It was a good shot. I’ll give you that.”

  “I didn’t shoot you.”

  “Roosevelt Washington?”

  “Nope. He was with me. We were not on your trail.”

  “Yeah, right. So who’s out there trying to kill me at your behest?”

  “No one.”

  “Come now, Clancy. We have dealt with each other enough that you don’t need to lie to me. You had Dooley killed and whoever it was almost got me.”

  “You have made some enemies along life’s path.”

  “As you have,” Saunders said.

  “True enough. I would imagine it could be anyone after you.”

  “You believe in coincidences, Clancy?”

  “Not usually.”

  “Neither do I. That means this pain in my shoulder is the result of my dealings with you. Nothing less. So if it was not you or Rosey, then …,” she paused as if to think. “Oh, my. You have resorted to something rather dangerous and risky. You have hired someone to kill me. Tsk, tsk.”

  “Not my style. I would never hire someone to kill another person, not even an insane, villainous murderer like you.”

  “You want me to believe that there is a freelance hit man on the loose who just happened to be in my neighborhood, killed Dooley and wounded me.”

  “It’s a lot to take in,” I said.

  “Too much. Just wanted to touch base and let you know that I am well enough to continue your misery. In a few days I will be traveling. You have surprised me by staying only a few paces behind me so far, so I dare not give you any clues as to where I will be going. You seem to have some type of sixth sense in this regard, so you will just have to use that gift to discover my next move. You cannot hide everyone from me. Too many friends and not enough places. Tah tah,” she said and hung up.

  If I could trust her, then I had a couple of days to consider and go wherever that pondering might take me. At least I might isolate some places where she might strike. I wondered if this was what the little Dutch boy felt like standing in front of the dyke.

  Rosey checked in late in the afternoon. I told him about the dream and the conversation with Saunders.

  “I think we need to rethink our strategy,” he said.

  “You have a new plan?”

  “I’d recommend that we move into what I call covert opts.”

  “Let me get this straight. You question my bringing Diamond in to scare her and now you want us to go after her ourselves. Some might call that murder.”

  “She attempted to kill your uncle.”

  “No direct connection to Saunders as yet on that bomb in Boston.”

  “So your uncle has enemies who want him dead?”

  “I doubt it. Everyone likes Uncle Walters.”

  “Ah ha, that is my point.”

  “Ah ha?”

  “I will take her out.”

  “It’s still murder. We have no direct evidence against her, not even on the bomb sent to my mother. Nor the poisoning of Mrs. Murphy and the stray dog. We only have Saunders’ verbal threats. I cannot justify killing her as much as I might want to. We need to find another way to stop her. I want to apprehend her and let her be tried for all the killings that she can be tied to.”

  “Virginia will only execute her. I could save the taxpayers of the Commonwealth some money.”

  “And be pleased with yourself in the process.”

  “I have no qualms about eliminating her.”

  “I do. Call it a code, if you will. As much as I want her to be stopped, I have limitations on what I will do to that end.”

  “You hired an assassin,” Rosey said.

  “To scare Saunders, not to kill her. I can’t justify murder. It’s not the way I work,” I said.

  “It’s your code, not mine. But for the moment, I will acquiesce to your skewed logic.”

  “Thanks. When are you coming to Norfolk?”

  “I have a follow-up meeting with this client tomorrow at lunch. I should be in your fair city in time for supper. Shall I wine and dine you tomorrow night?”

  “Weaken my resolute cause and force your plan upon me?”

  “I can try. May your dreams be more pleasant tonight.”

  I fixed a peanut butter and banana sandwich accompanied by a glass of milk for my supper. After reading a few hours, I retired early to get a few extra hours of sleep.

  A new nightmare emerged sometime during the early morning hours. My brother Scott was the intended victim this time instead of me. I was running through the woods trying to get to my brother. In the dream, I had no idea where he was. I simply knew that I had to keep running and hopefully I would come upon him. As the dream developed, I finally came upon the scene by the river where, the night before, I had been the intended victim and was about to be thrown into the Staunton River. This time Scott was bound and gagged but seated in a chair. When I entered the clearing from the woods, Saunders lit a fuse to a bomb underneath his chair. She fired some shots in my direction and then ran off into the woods in the opposite direction. I tried to get to Scott before the bomb exploded. My legs were like weights and I could not move fast enough. I woke up when the bomb went off. The bright light of the blast startled me from my slumber.

  It was dark. The clock read 4:54. I washed my face and put on a sweatshirt over my pajama top. I needed some added warmth in the cool apartment. I sat down in front of Rogers and sipped the coffee I had made. I needed to wake up and regroup after this second nightmare.

 
; “You okay?” Rogers said.

  “I think so, but I’m worried about Scottie.”

  “The reason?”

  “I had a dream. Saunders killed him.”

  Chapter 31

  One way to look at having a computer like Rogers is that it is cheap therapy. Well, not so cheap when you consider the cost of putting the pieces of such a machine together. Uncle Walters footed the bill for her. However, I suppose it would be rather expensive therapy if she were for sale on the open market, but since I had the only working model I knew about, it was cheap for me. Kudos for my uncle and his enormous wealth. The man had the Midas touch.

  I told her the dream at least three times. I think she was trying to analyze what was happening inside my head. Bless her heart. No one could possibly analyze anything inside my head, although my mother used to say that I needed to have my head examined. She said that often, in fact.

  “I need a new plan,” I said after discussing the second dream ad nauseam.

  “For the case, you mean.”

  “Precisely. You’re supposed to be so brilliant, help me come up with another way of going about this.”

  “I am brilliant, thank you. There is no supposed-to-be about it. Give me a moment or two, and I will offer some alternatives for you.”

  “Fine. I’ll go fix some breakfast and give you time to think.”

  I had a piece of toast and two eggs over hard along with my coffee. I chased all of that with some orange juice. I was trying in vain to consider a different perspective regarding Saunders when Rogers called to me.

  “I have an idea.”

  “Let’s hear it,” I said as I sat down in front of her screen.

  “Why are you sitting so close? I can talk loud enough for you to sit on the divan.”

  “Expanding your vocabulary again?”

  “My vocabulary is expanded quite sufficiently, I have you to know. I was merely trying to use a variety of words in order to expand yours.”