Roger's Return

by Davis, Mary

  He cut the engine. “I’m taking you home.” He held out her helmet to her.

  She held up her hands in refusal and resumed her trek. “Don’t worry yourself about me.”

  He caught up and walked beside her. “I understand you’re upset with me, but don’t you think you’re overreacting a little here?”

  She stopped short and planted her hands on her hips. Overreacting would be to scream and yell as she felt like doing. “I don’t have it.”

  “It’s just an envelope.”

  “Just an envelope! Then why do you want it so bad? I’ll buy you a box of envelopes. If it weren’t for that envelope, would you be standing here with me?”

  He opened his mouth but said nothing.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Exactly! Because you have chosen to tell me nothing. I’ve been away! What am I supposed to do with that? You leave me and come back for an envelope, and I’m supposed to be happy?”

  “It’s not like that at all.”

  “Just leave us alone. RJ doesn’t need a daddy who may or may not be around.” He probably wouldn’t be now that she didn’t have a stupid envelope. She wished he had never come back.

  ❧

  Jackie pulled open Roger’s sock drawer. Digging to the bottom in the back, she slipped out a folded white envelope. So this was what brought him back. She unfolded it and dumped out the three-inch mini CD-ROM disc into her hand. She sat at Roger’s computer and put the CD in the disc drive. Maybe she would have better luck than she had two and a half years ago. She stared at the box demanding a password. She tried Roger Cole Villeroy. She used her name, her birthday, their anniversary, the date they met, the date he left, Moore. She even tried her parents’ names, birthdays, and anniversary.

  She sat back and stared at the cursor blinking at her, taunting her. She drummed her fingers on the mouse pad. She had racked her brain two and a half years ago without success. Lord, help me figure this out. What else or who else had ever been important to him? Family. But he didn’t have any. No siblings, and his parents had died years ago along with his first fiancée.

  Roger had told her that after the girl died with his parents he hadn’t found much to live for until he met Jackie. He didn’t want to waste time with a long engagement. He’d regretted it the last time.

  Swallowing hard, Jackie leaned forward and typed in the anniversary of her death. She took a slow even breath before hitting enter. Access denied.

  What should she do now? She had a mind to snap the CD in half and give it to him that way. Or she could always hold it hostage to keep him around.

  She typed in significant historical events and dates. This hit-and-miss approach was not going to work. She needed a system. She typed in January first and the year Roger was born. She changed only the year until she reached the present and started over with January second. She would find the password if it took her all night.

  It was two a.m., and Jackie started back to consciousness, realizing it had been nearly an hour since she had last made a key stroke or an attempt at the password. She rolled her shoulders and tipped her head to one side, then the other. Her neck made several consecutive cracks. She walked across her bedroom and stared at the computer from a distance—Roger’s computer. She shook her head. She knew she would never figure it out, but she knew someone who might.

  Sitting back in the chair, she pressed a button, and the CD-ROM drawer opened with a whir of the motor. She dropped the mini CD-ROM disc back in the envelope and scanned her bedroom. Where to hide it until she could take it to her computer-expert acquaintance?

  Nine

  It was dawn when Roger unlocked the last motel room. In one night he had rented rooms at seven different motels. He hoped that was enough. He carried in the bag of food and supplies he’d bought and set it in the corner, as he had in each of the other rooms. The room looked like all the others. It was an end unit with a window in the bathroom big enough to crawl through.

  He was beat and wouldn’t call Sweeny for another two hours. He set the alarm on his watch and stretched out on the bed. His sleep was intermittent but would have to do. The alarm sounded. He picked up the motel room phone and dialed Sweeny’s cell phone number. “I’ve got the disc.”

  “You’re early. I expected you to wait until the last minute.”

  He could detect a smile in Sweeny’s voice. “Why wait when I have it? I want this over as much as you do.”

  “Meet me at—”

  “I’ll pick the place.” Roger gave him an intersection and told him to meet him on the southeast corner. “If you want this, be there at nine-thirty.”

  “I can’t get there from here by then.”

  “I think you can. Better hustle.” He hung up but not before he heard Sweeny curse.

  He locked the room behind him and pocketed the key.

  He had to stay sharp today, and sleep obviously wasn’t the way that would happen. Everything had to go precisely right for the timing of his plan to work. Lord, I put these plans in Your hands. Help me succeed in keeping Jackie and RJ safe today.

  It was nine-thirty, and by now Sweeny would be waiting impatiently at the rendezvous. Roger turned onto the street and parked down from where the man was standing on the corner. People bustled by the figure in the gray-tailored suit unaware of the evil that lurked there. He may try to fool everyone else in that getup, but Roger knew him. He studied the man while staying out of his sight. He almost hoped it would start raining. That would really irk Sweeny. But the clouds weren’t ready to give up their precious water. Sweeny would wait a little longer before he went after Jackie and RJ.

  Roger looked at his watch. Timing had to be perfect. Just a minute or so longer. Sweeny looked at his watch and balled up his fists. Roger engaged the clutch and moved with traffic until he reached the corner.

  Sweeny scowled and stepped over to the curb. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

  He shrugged. “Traffic.”

  The man clenched his jaw. “Where’s the disc?”

  He reached into his jacket, then stopped. “You’ll leave my family out of this?”

  “Have you told her anything?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “Then they should live long lives.” Sweeny wiggled his finger for Roger to fork it over.

  He pulled his hand out slowly.

  Sweeny snatched the disc. “Without you, of course.” He raised his right hand hidden inside his coat pocket.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Roger said. “Your keepers couldn’t have been too happy that you killed Moore without getting the disc.”

  Sweeny’s lips curled up into a smug grin. “But I have the disc this time. I can pull the trigger and be gone before anyone knows who’s been shot, let alone who shot you.” He chuckled nastily.

  “But the disc is useless.”

  “What!” Sweeny pushed his gun so hard in his pocket, Roger thought it might break through. “You double-crossing—”

  Roger had held back a trump card. “Without the password you won’t be able to verify the data. Your employers won’t be happy if they don’t know what they have.”

  Sweeny’s lips thinned, and his nostrils flared. “If you think withholding the password is going to keep you alive—”

  “It will give me a head start. The pay phone across the street will ring in thirty minutes. If you want the password, I recommend answering it.”

  “I don’t like games, Villeroy.” Sweeny’s face turned red with fury.

  “You’ll have to play this one to get what you want and save your neck.”

  Sweeny’s eyes blazed amber fire. “There’s no place in the world where I can’t find you. I did before, and I will again.”

  “Thirty minutes.” He engaged the clutch and rolled forward.

  “I’ll find you, Villeroy—anywhere.”

  Roger half expected to feel the blow of one of Sweeny’s bullets in h
is back. But the man needed him alive for now. He just hoped Sweeny realized it.

  BANG!

  Instinctively Roger ducked and looked in the direction of the shot. Black smoke was drifting up from the tailpipe of an old green Chevy. He could imagine Sweeny laughing at him for being so jumpy, if he was still watching. Roger didn’t care. He had to make the best use of his time. He hoped Sweeny would wait for the call.

  After twenty-five minutes, Roger was in place. He stood at a pay phone a few blocks from Jackie’s house. He waited two more minutes, then dialed the other pay phone. He couldn’t press his luck with Sweeny any more than he already had. The man might go after Jackie and RJ out of spite.

  He picked up on the first ring. “This better be you, Villeroy.”

  “Moron.” Roger hung up and climbed back into the borrowed pickup. Let him figure out if he was calling him a name or giving him the password. He had picked the password with Sweeny in mind.

  Roger parked the truck up the street from Jackie’s and wrestled a bouquet of balloons out of the cab. The balloons would hide his approach. He could get Jackie to let him inside once she had opened the door. As he ascended the steps, he saw his mother-in-law through the window walking from one room to the next. What was she still doing home? He tried to duck and hide, but how could he with all these floating balloons? He did an about-face and retraced his steps, hoping his mother-in-law wouldn’t look out the window. He opened the passenger door and stuffed the balloons back inside.

  Did Josephine have the day off? His plan did not include her. He looked at his watch. How much time could he afford? Not much. The only reason Sweeny wasn’t already here was because he couldn’t get here and back in time for Roger’s phone call. So how was he supposed to deal with his mother-in-law? He jumped back into the truck and repositioned it with the garage in view. He looked at his watch again and rubbed his face with both hands. She would leave. She had to.

  After twenty minutes, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer and reached for the door handle. As he did, the garage door rose, and Josephine Johnson backed out. Roger had already wasted too much time waiting for her to leave. He slid down in the seat of the truck until she drove by, then slipped out and walked around the corner to the front of the house with the balloons. He rang the doorbell and held the balloons in front of his face. He rang the bell again. “Come on, Jackie—answer the door. I know you’re still home.” He scanned the street for any parked cars nearby that looked out of place.

  The door clicked open, and he heard her sigh. Jackie took the bouquet, but when she saw who was behind them her smile faded. “I’m not up for this today.”

  He stuck his foot in the way as she tried to shut the door. “Jackie, please. It’s important.” He didn’t have to push much for her to relent.

  She walked away from the door.

  He followed her in and down to the basement. “Where’s RJ?”

  “Playing in his room.” She folded her arms across her chest.

  He didn’t have time to coax her. They had to get out and fast. The bogus CD he had given Sweeny wouldn’t fool him long. But maybe in Sweeny’s eagerness to show off his victory prize, Roger had more time than he’d figured. He hoped so. “Get RJ and his diaper bag. And get your leather jacket.” It was laying there on the arm of the couch.

  She pulled her brows together. “Why?”

  “I’ll tell you once we’re on the road.”

  She stuck out her chin defiantly. “We’re not going with you today. I have to be at work in a few hours.”

  He could tell this was going to be a battle of wills. A battle he couldn’t afford to lose. “You won’t be making it into work tonight.”

  “What? I can’t just not go in.”

  He raked his hands through his hair. “There isn’t time to argue. Where’s the diaper bag?” He scanned the room and spotted it near the stairs. He slung it over his shoulder and turned back to her. The color had drained from her face. Her gaze was locked on his side—the side that held his gun under his leather jacket. He had hoped to spare her this ugliness. “Let’s go.”

  She stumbled backward. “Wh–what if I refuse?”

  Was she testing him to see if he would wave his Glock at her? What kind of a monster did she think he was? “You have no choice—like me.”

  She sat down on the couch. “I’m not going.”

  Her bravado wasn’t fooling him. And he wasn’t going to stand there and argue with her. She would go in the end. He walked down the hall and into his son’s room. RJ sat on the floor with several vehicles lined up in front of him.

  “Hey, Kiddo. You want to go for a ride on my motorcycle?”

  RJ jumped up. “Daddy-cycoe.”

  “Get your coat.”

  RJ pulled his little coat off the back of the doorknob while Roger opened the top dresser drawer. He grabbed several pairs of tiny socks and stuffed them in the diaper bag, noting the bag was full of diapers. Good. He packed a couple of extra shirts and bib overalls. What else could a two year old need? He turned back to his son and scooped him up, the Harley securely in his tiny grasp.

  “What are you doing?” Jackie demanded, standing in the doorway. “Put him back! I won’t let you take him away from me!”

  “I’m taking both of you away. Get some shoes and come on.” He walked from RJ’s room back to the living room.

  “Why? I know my parents aren’t eager for you to be back without some answers, but they wouldn’t stand in the way of our getting back together.”

  “This has nothing to do with your parents or getting back together. It’s about keeping you and RJ safe.”

  “We’re safe here.”

  “No, you’re not. Where are your keys?” She had no idea how much danger waited out there for her.

  Jackie only stared at him. She reached over and picked up the phone. “I’m calling the police.”

  He put his finger on the button. “Don’t make this difficult. You’ll only scare RJ.”

  “You’re the one who’ll scare him.”

  “Your keys.” He held out his hand.

  She grabbed her purse, clutching the keys in her hand. “Please don’t do this.”

  He snatched the keys from her grasp. “I wish I didn’t have to. Now come on.” He headed up the stairs.

  “You don’t have to.”

  The panic in her voice cut him to the core. He walked into the garage, opened the van, and set RJ in his car seat. “Buckle him up and strap in next to him.” She was carrying a pair of white tennis shoes with her purse. He slid the door shut and stepped in. He took a deep breath before pressing the button on the garage-door opener, then backed out onto Becket Street. After he passed Glover Street, a grayish sedan pulled in behind him. Sweeny, no doubt. As much as he wanted to gun it, he kept to the speed limit. This was not the vehicle to try to outrun him in. Sweeny mustn’t suspect he knew he was back there. And he would know soon enough if it was indeed he.

  “Jackie, I’m not who you think I am.” He kept one eye on the gray sedan.

  “A raving lunatic?”

  “An electronics consultant.”

  “I may be slow, but I figured that one out,” she muttered under her breath. He still heard; she probably wanted him to.

  “I’ve been working on a case—”

  “Oh? Like the CIA or something?” she asked sharply. “You expect me to believe that?”

  He took a slow breath at her remark. “No. Like a PI.”

  “So now you’re telling me you’re a private investigator?”

  “Was. I quit.” The gray sedan disappeared in the traffic. Maybe it wasn’t Sweeny after all.

  “It doesn’t sound to me as if you quit,” she snapped.

  He took another deep breath. He was not going to snap back at her. “A buddy of mine from college asked for help. I was restless and decided it would give me a chance to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.”

  “And have you?”

  Where had that sedan g
one? “Have I what?”

  “Figured out what you want to do when you grow up?”

  He couldn’t blame her for not believing him. It would take awhile for her to digest all this. “I still want to work with kids. Maybe teaching.”

  “That’s a nice I’m-ready-to-settle-down kind of answer. Just the thing a wife likes to hear,” she said in a mocking tone.

  He looked again for the gray sedan. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you.”

  “Nor fairytales you.”

  If he didn’t know Sweeny so well by now, he would dismiss the gray car as coincidence and breathe easier. But the man was relentless. He would not stop until he had silenced Roger permanently. It was better to err on the side of extreme caution. “The point is, I’m sorry for getting you mixed up in all this.”

  “Mixed up in what, Roger? A kidnapping? I’m the kidnappee not the kidnapper.” Her words were clipped and stiff.

  “I’m not kidnapping you. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  “From whom? The bogeyman?”

  He could describe Sweeny as that.

  “If you aren’t kidnapping us, then stop the van and get out.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “You mean you won’t.” Her voice rose an octave.

  This was getting them nowhere. “I’m trying to take responsibility for my actions. I never should have married while working on this case.”

  An eerie silence blanketed the back seat. Jackie stared out the window with her arms folded tightly across her chest. The silent treatment. RJ didn’t seem to notice the tension between his parents and continued to play with his motorcycle.

  “What I mean is I should have waited until—”

  “I know exactly what you mean. It would have been better if you’d never come back. At least then I could still imagine you were once in love with me.”

  “I do love you. I always have.” Things were worse than ever between them, but at least she was safe whether she liked it or not.

  “Right. You should’ve dropped me a postcard saying you’d died someplace.”

  “Jackie.”