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Imminent Affair

Page 14

by Sheri WhiteFeather


  “Would you like to come in?” Louise asked. “I can fix some sandwiches.”

  “Sure.” Why not? She’d barely eaten today. Besides, it was a good excuse to stall, to not go home for a while, to avoid the ache of seeing Daniel.

  They exited the car and took the stone walkway to the back door.

  But once they were inside, someone gave Allie a hard shove and she stumbled to the floor. Before she could recover, she felt a shattering blow to the back of her head.

  As the room spun, she called out to Louise, afraid she’d been struck by the intruder, too.

  But there was no answer. There was nothing but horrific pain, coupled with the onset of unconsciousness.

  Daniel glanced at his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time. Allie was late. She hadn’t specified what time she would be home, but that didn’t stop him from worrying.

  Especially after he called the senior center and learned that Allie and Louise had left hours ago.

  The director suggested that she was spending time with Louise at the older woman’s home, but when he’d asked for Louise’s phone number and address, she’d refused to give it to him. It was against policy to reveal personal information about their students.

  He’d pressed the issue, explaining how worried he was that Allie hadn’t answered his calls or returned his messages.

  Still, the director wouldn’t budge. She even asked if Allie might be avoiding him purposely.

  Was she? He honestly didn’t know.

  After he hung up, Daniel dialed 411 and got all of the telephone listings in the Los Angeles area that might be Louise, but none of them panned out. He got on-line and checked national cellular directories, too. But that proved futile, as well. So did the Web sites that claimed they could locate anyone, anywhere.

  At his wit’s end, he contacted Detective Bell. But it didn’t do any good. The police weren’t going to search for Allie. According to Bell, the scenario didn’t indicate that a crime had been committed against her.

  Was Daniel overreacting? Maybe. Regardless, he called Rex and gave the P.I. what little information he had on Louise. To him, she was the key to finding Allie.

  Rex agreed and promised to get on it right away.

  Daniel ended the call and went outside to wait. He sat on the front stoop and glanced up at the telephone poles, wondering if he would see a raven. Or Raven, he corrected. The Haida demigod.

  He came up empty. There were only pigeons and sparrows.

  Time ticked by, and as it did, the more frantic he got. He called Allie again and again, but her phone continued to go directly to voice mail.

  Maybe she was avoiding him. Maybe she couldn’t cope with being in love with a man who insisted that friendship was all he could handle.

  Daniel made another Raven sweep, but once again, there was no big, black bird.

  He cursed out loud, wishing Rex would hurry up and get the information.

  Finally, finally, the P.I. called.

  “I’m having trouble finding a Louise Archer who matches the profile you gave me,” Rex told him. “But I’ll keep looking.”

  Impatient, Daniel dragged a hand through his hair. “I think I should give Joyce Prescott a call. She’s a cop and a friend of Allie’s. I’m sure she’ll take this more seriously than Bell.”

  “Joyce and Kyle are out of town. They went away to celebrate the upcoming New Year.”

  Well, hell. “Then I’m going to go to the senior center. Maybe the director will be more cooperative in person.”

  “Good idea. Stay in touch.”

  “Yeah, you, too.” Daniel grabbed his keys and jumped in his truck.

  On his way downtown, he battled the ever-present traffic. He finally arrived, grateful the center was still open and the director was working a late shift.

  He knocked on her door, and she invited him into her office.

  Her name was Madge Sinclair, and she looked to be in her early fifties, about Glynis’s age, he supposed. But that was where the similarity ended. She wore her reddish-blond hair in a conservative style and was slightly overweight, with wire-rimmed reading glasses at the end of her nose.

  “I’m Daniel Deer Runner,” he said.

  “Allie’s beau? The man on the phone?” She gestured for him to sit. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you.”

  “I understand your position, but what if Allie’s stalker followed Allie to Louise’s house? Or found a way to kidnap Allie? And maybe Louise, too?”

  “If that’s what you’re afraid of, then why haven’t you called the police?”

  “I did, but they don’t think there’s evidence of foul play.” He explained further. “All I know is that she was supposed to call me, but she didn’t. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t reach her. Do you honestly think Louise would mind if you gave me her number? Or better yet, why don’t you call her? That wouldn’t be against policy, would it?”

  “No, it would be okay.”

  “Then will you do it?”

  She nodded, and he sat forward in his chair while she checked Louise’s file on her computer. He should have asked her to this earlier, but he hadn’t been thinking straight.

  “Oh, dear,” she said.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s no phone number.”

  He frowned. “Who doesn’t have a phone?”

  “People on fixed incomes. People who can’t afford one.”

  “Is there an address?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I have it?” He gazed across the desk. “Please.”

  She sighed. “If I give it to you, I’m violating our policy. If I don’t, I might be putting two women in danger.”

  “Which do you think is the better choice?”

  She wrote down the address and handed it to him.

  “Thank you, Ms. Sinclair.”

  “It’s Missus. And I hope I did the right thing.”

  “You did.” He typed the address into the map feature on his phone, but the directions didn’t come up. “Something’s wrong.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It says that address doesn’t exist.”

  “Maybe I wrote it down wrong.” She double-checked, but she’d been correct the first time. She came up with another theory. “Maybe there’s a typo in the computer document. I’ll check Louise’s original application to see what it says.”

  Daniel waited while Mrs. Sinclair went to a file cabinet and rummaged through it. She found the application and placed it on her desk.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But it’s the same. Are you sure the map site you used is working properly?”

  He tried other sites, but the address didn’t exist on them, either. He frowned at his phone. “I don’t understand. Why would Louise have given a phony address?”

  Mrs. Sinclair had a ready answer. “She could be homeless and is too ashamed to admit it. She could be staying at a shelter.”

  He countered the director’s theory. “If she’s ashamed of where she lives, why would she ask Allie to drive her home?”

  “I have no idea, but I’ve seen her at the bus stop, so she must be staying somewhere.”

  “Do you know what route she takes?”

  “No, but I’m sure I can find out.”

  While Mrs. Sinclair started calling other students in Allie’s classes, asking if any of them knew where Louise lived or what bus route she took, Daniel’s cell phone rang.

  It was Rex. He still hadn’t found the right Louise Archer. Daniel told him about the messed-up address, and Rex agreed that something was off.

  “Do you have her social security number?” the P.I. asked.

  Daniel glanced at Louise’s application, which was still on Mrs. Sinclair’s desk and repeated the number.

  Rex said, “I’ll call you back in a few.”

  Daniel thanked him and walked over to the window. He glanced out, then saw what he’d been searching for earlier.

  A big black bird.
<
br />   Only it wasn’t perched on a telephone wire. It was on the ground in the parking lot, injured or possibly dead.

  Like a madman, Daniel took off running, but when he got there, the bird was gone.

  Was this a message? Sometimes Raven helped people, even through his trickery. So what did the message mean? That Allie was injured? Or possibly dead?

  No, Daniel thought, a lump forming in his chest. Why would Raven appear to him if it was too late to save her?

  Once again his cell phone rang, and he glanced quickly at the screen, which identified the caller as Rex.

  He flipped open the device. “What’d you find out?”

  “Louise’s social security number was bogus. Apparently this old woman isn’t who she says she is.”

  As Daniel’s thoughts soared, everything that hadn’t made sense before now careened through his mind.

  Anxious, he gulped a breath. “What if Louise isn’t even an old woman?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “What if she’s Ann?”

  Rex was instantly skeptical. “How is that possible?”

  “Ann’s dad said that she took theater arts and film classes. And isn’t teaching actors how to age themselves part of the basic curriculum?”

  “Yes, but that’s a far cry from pulling a Mrs. Doubtfire.”

  “Not if Ann’s classes included advanced makeup studies. Besides, she’s a skilled artist. She would be really good at it.”

  “I think you’re reaching, Daniel.”

  “I don’t.” To him things were starting to fall into place. “Olivia got the feeling that Ann had a split personality. So maybe this is what her reading means.”

  “That Ann is playing a real-life role? That she’s been pretending to be one of Allie’s students?” Rex remained skeptical. “Could she actually fool everyone like that?”

  “Her name is Kangee. Trickery is in her blood. But it’s in mine, too.” Daniel told Rex about the message he’d received. Hoya, he thought. His mother’s clan. “I think Raven is helping me.”

  Rex didn’t dispute Daniel’s claim, but he still seemed uncertain about the Ann/Louise connection. “Maybe you should call Detective Bell again.”

  “I plan on it.” But first he went back to Mrs. Sinclair’s office.

  “Why did you run off like that?” she asked.

  He didn’t explain that he’d seen a fallen bird. There was no time to educate her about Haida folklore. He queried her instead. “Did you find out what bus route Louise takes?”

  She nodded and gave him the information.

  He walked away and called Detective Bell, repeating everything he’d told Rex, except the Raven part. Once again, there wasn’t time to delve into his culture.

  Or maybe he preferred to keep things simple. Somehow he doubted that Bell would acknowledge Native mythology as a means of solving a crime.

  The detective responded, “That’s quite a theory, Daniel.”

  He cursed into the phone. Apparently it hadn’t mattered that he’d omitted the Raven part. “So that’s it? You’re not going to help?”

  “I didn’t say that we wouldn’t look into it. I agree that Louise giving the senior center false information is something to consider. Of course there could be a logical explanation.”

  “Like what?”

  “Senility, early Alzheimer’s. She might have been having an off day when she filled out her application.”

  Daniel ignored Bell’s logic. To him, there was too much trickery for that. “So what are you going to do?”

  “We’ll notify the Northeast Division to keep an eye out for Allie’s vehicle, particularly in the areas close to Louise’s bus route.”

  Daniel intended to do the same thing. If Allie was at the stalker’s house, then her car should be parked there. “I can give you the make and model,” he told the detective. “The plate number, too. I’ve got it memorized.”

  “Thanks. I figured as much.”

  At least Bell was willing to help, even if he wasn’t convinced that Louise was Ann.

  Was Daniel the only person who could see past the deception and comprehended the enormity of the danger Allie was in?

  Chapter 16

  The bus route spanned at least ten residential miles, and since Daniel didn’t know which stop Louise—Ann?—used, he was checking the entire area.

  Not only were there single-family homes, there were apartment buildings with underground parking, some of which required electronic openers.

  How was he supposed to locate Allie this way? And what about the police? Between them, would they find her?

  And if they did, would it be too late?

  Daniel kept searching, but he didn’t see Allie’s car. Where was she? Where was his woman?

  His woman?

  Did he even have a right to think of her that way?

  In the midst of his pursuit, he heard sirens in the near distance.

  Once they faded, he sat in his truck, quiet surrounding him. His stomach knotted. Would the emergency detract from the police’s effort to find Allie?

  Would he be on his own?

  He continued his desperate quest. He even went in and out of underground parking structures, following other cars through security gates—a time-consuming exploration that kept him engaged for the next forty minutes.

  Time dragged on. Then his cell phone rang.

  Detective Bell’s voice came on the line. “Where are you, Daniel?”

  “In Silver Lake, looking for Allie. Why? What’s going on? What happened?”

  “We have a hostage situation, and we need to bring you in.”

  On the outside, Daniel remained calm. Inside, he was shaken to the core: for Allie. The sirens he heard were connected to her.

  Bell explained that the Northeast Division had located Allie’s car at a residence on Corrin Street, but when they attempted to speak with whoever was inside, a shot was fired at them from the house. No one was hit, but they suspected that they had a hostage situation. Contact was made with the shooter via a cell phone left at the doorstep.

  “Is it Ann?” Daniel asked.

  “Yes. She claims that she killed Louise and that she intends to kill Allie, too. She refuses to tell the negotiator anything more than that. Since she won’t talk to her parents, they haven’t been brought in.” Bell gave a slight pause. “You’re the only one she’s willing to talk to. Are you up for it?”

  “You know damn well I am.”

  “Then give me your exact location and we’ll send a car.”

  Daniel recited the information, then asked, “What kind of condition is Allie in? Is she injured?”

  “Ann refuses to disclose Allie’s condition, other than to say that she’s still alive.”

  The car that quickly appeared was a white vehicle with the LAPD emblem on the sides. Corrin Street was about four miles east of where Daniel was. On the way, he thanked the Creator that the police had found Allie and prayed that she wasn’t injured. But he feared that the fallen Raven had indicated otherwise.

  Once he arrived at the road-blocked scene, he was immersed in law enforcement procedures. With SWAT teams and sharpshooters in place, with emergency vehicles standing by, he was briefed by Sergeant McGhee, the negotiator in charge.

  McGhee looked him straight in the eye. They were about the same height and build, but McGhee was probably twenty years his senior with graying hair and stress-earned lines in his lean, sculpted face.

  “Ann won’t speak with you on the phone,” McGhee said. “She wants to talk to you in person.”

  “I’m fine with that.” Anything to save Allie.

  McGhee warned him of the danger. Ann was armed and seemingly confused. Daniel understood. He knew all about Ann’s mental illness.

  Daniel was given a bulletproof vest. He was wired, too, and fitted with an earpiece to take direction from the negotiator, if necessary.

  During the briefing, he was warned that this wasn’t a storm-the-castle mission.
Daniel’s objective was to convince Ann to release the hostage and turn herself in.

  “She claims that she already killed the old woman who lives here,” McGhee said.

  “Detective Bell mentioned that.” But Daniel still had his doubts that Louise existed. Or maybe at this point, he was hoping that she wasn’t real. He didn’t want to envision the fruitcake lady dead on the floor. “Did Bell tell you my theory about the old woman?”

  “Yes, he did, and we’re looking into who she is. We haven’t been able to reach the landlord or locate any documents that verify her identity, but neighbors confirmed that an elderly woman named Louise moved into this house about two months ago. And now Ann Kangee confessed to killing her.”

  The negotiator got Ann on the phone and told her that Daniel was here. She agreed to meet him on the porch.

  The porch was similar to the one at Daniel’s dad’s house, and he recalled the day he and Allie had sat in wicker chairs and discussed Christmas decorations.

  Most of the houses here were decorated. But this one wasn’t. There were no lights, no Santa Claus or reindeers on the lawn.

  Across the street was a Nativity scene. That gave him a measure of comfort.

  But the neighbors themselves didn’t. Unfortunately, not everyone on Corrin Street had been evacuated. Some had gotten trapped in their homes, where they’d been ordered to stay put.

  “Ready?” McGhee asked.

  Daniel nodded, and once again was reminded of his objective. Were the cops worried that he was going to try to subdue Ann and rescue Allie on his own?

  “No heroics,” the sergeant said. “Not this time.”

  This time? Apparently McGhee knew that Daniel had already taken a bullet for Allie and would be willing to do it again if it meant getting her out of this situation.

  Regardless, he intended to talk Ann down. He wasn’t going to do anything that could backfire and get Allie killed.

  “I know what my job is,” he said.

  “Good.” McGhee motioned to the front door, where Ann was peeking her head out.

  As Daniel approached her, he could feel the tension that surrounded him. He was glad that Ann’s parents weren’t here.

 

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