Black Widow

by Victor Methos

  “I’m going to find her. I can’t wait ’til tomorrow night. She might kill someone else tonight.”

  “Hold on, wait. I’m coming with you. Just gimme a minute.”

  Stanton stood on the porch steps. He wanted to tell her to forget it. That he wasn’t certain he could trust her. That she likely knew where Heather was. But he didn’t. He just stood there silently until she came out, dressed in jeans and a blouse.

  She got into the passenger seat of the jeep just as Stanton started it. He pulled away from her house and headed for the interstate.

  “Where we going?”

  “To the only person who seems to know where she is.”

  H1 was relatively clear of other cars and he was able to switch to the leftmost lane right away. They drove in silence a long while, and a light rain began to fall.

  “Sorry, no top,” Stanton said.

  “I like the rain.”

  Baby Dolls appeared empty. The door was shut, and Stanton couldn’t see any lights on. He got out of the jeep and Heidi followed.

  The door opened, but nobody was there. Stanton stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He walked over to the desk he’d seen Autumn at. Papers were out over the desktop, and he scanned them quickly. They were balance sheets and a list of itemized deductions.

  Footsteps sounded from the stairs and Autumn walked down. She was dressed as though going to a dance, though it wasn’t even noon yet.

  “Detective… I see you found her.”

  Heidi looked to the floor.

  “That’s not her,” Stanton said.

  “Oh?”

  “They’re twins.”

  Autumn reached the bottom of the stairs and stood there a moment, staring. She crossed to the couch and sat down. “What can I do for you?”

  “Where is she?”

  “I told you, I can’t tell you.”

  “I’m through playing games. Tell me or go out of business. I swear it. I’ll make it my mission that this place goes under. I’ll sit right outside and bust every john that walks in. I’ll get a tap and have cops show up to every john’s house at dinnertime. How long you think you’ll stay in business then?”

  Her lip curled slightly but her voice maintained the same even tone. “And in the end, you’re no better than the Vice cops.”

  He stepped in front of her. “Her address, now.”

  Autumn didn’t move. She looked to Heidi, who couldn’t look her in the face. Finally, she rose from the couch and went over to the desk. Punching in a few keys, she then wrote something on a Post-it note and handed it to Stanton.

  “I would appreciate you leaving now, Detective.”

  Stanton turned and left, Heidi right behind him. They got to the jeep and he glanced at the address. It was a Kapolei address. He hopped back on H1 and headed west.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t be here,” Heidi said. “It’ll make her think I did this.”

  He glanced to her. “You have nothing to be afraid of from her anymore.”

  “You can’t say that. You haven’t met her.”

  Pearl Harbor was near where they were driving, and Stanton glanced in its direction. He always glanced in its direction when he drove by. It had an allure to it. All places where great evil took place did. And he wasn’t anymore immune to it than anybody else.

  Kapolei was a city built over sugarcane and pineapple fields. Much like Hawaii Kai, a single person founded and built up the city. An industrialist named James Campbell.

  They hopped off the interstate, and Stanton put the address in the GPS on his phone. The city was astoundingly beautiful. Bright green, with nearby beaches and resorts. Palm trees lined the roads, which were clean and litter-free.

  The GPS led them to a complex of condominiums. White, with blue trim. An attendant sat at a gate with a wooden arm down preventing the jeep from entering.

  “What can I do for you?” the attendant said.

  “Ms. Rousseau,” Stanton said.

  “Oh, yeah, hey. You forgot your pass?”

  “I did,” Heidi said. “Sorry.”

  “No prob.” He pushed a button and the arm started to rise. “Have a good one.”

  “You, too,” Stanton said.

  The condos were even cleaner than the city. Almost to the point that they looked like they’d been power-washed recently. Stanton followed the GPS to the far corner of the complex and parked. He turned the jeep off and looked to Heidi.

  “You wanna wait here?”

  She shook her head. “I want to… I need to see her. To see that she’s really here.”

  They got out of the jeep and walked up a sidewalk and to the building. Heather’s condo was on the top floor, and they climbed the stairs. Stanton looked out over the parking lot. No one else was around.

  He knocked and they waited.

  After ringing the doorbell several times, he placed his ear to the door to see if he could hear anyone inside. No noise.

  “I don’t think anyone’s home,” he said.

  He tried the knob but the door was locked.

  “What now?” she said.

  “I’m going to drop you off. Then I’m going to come back here and wait.”

  37

  After driving to Heidi’s home, she sat in his jeep a few moments. She wanted to say something but was struggling to articulate it. Stanton didn’t rush her. He let her take as much time as she needed.

  “Please be careful,” was all she said before stepping out.

  Stanton watched her walk back to her house before he drove to the interstate and Heather’s condo.

  The attendant let him in again without saying anything and he parked farther from the building. He leaned the seat back and took out his phone. Eleven unread emails. Going through them, he saw one from an old friend back in San Diego, Daniel Childs.

  Childs was wondering if he wanted to meet up. He had a few days of leave from the San Diego PD and wanted to come out to the island. Stanton emailed back that he would enjoy that. Then he dialed Mathew’s cell.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Hey. I’m gonna be a little late getting home. Get some dinner for you and your brother, okay?”

  “Sure. I don’t have any money, though.”

  “There’s some in the kitchen drawer at home. Just grab that.”

  “Cool.”

  “I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.”

  Stanton hesitated as he hung up. This would be the first time he left his children alone without a sitter. But there was nothing he could do about it now. Matt was probably looking forward to a night without adult supervision.

  He next checked the weather forecast. Tomorrow would be clear skies with a high of eighty. After turning on some music, he placed the phone down on the passenger seat. The air was muggy and damp and it comforted him. His eyelids grew heavy and he knew he could sleep right now.

  The weather reminded him of his childhood in Seattle. He hadn’t been back to the city in twenty years and wondered how much it had changed.

  The time seemed to drag slowly. At one point, he had to urinate so he got out and found a communal laundry. Without a key, he had to wait until someone happened by and opened it for him. The bathroom was spotless and the entire space had the smell of several dryers running at once. He stayed there a moment. His wife and he had to go to laundries while he was in graduate school. They never had enough money to wash all the clothes, so they had to choose which ones were necessary and which ones were luxury. He remembered himself then as being extremely poor and extremely happy.

  Walking back, he kept his eyes low. The leaves were wet and the grass was glistening with rainwater. The clouds were parting, and patches of blue sky shone through the gray. His mood instantly started improving. He had always been amazed how intimately his moods were tied to the weather.

  Sitting in the jeep another two hours, he grew restless and his back ached. He got out and stretched. A reflection of himself was in the windshield. He saw the elevated scar that ran al
ong his collarbone. The place where two slugs entered him, fired from the gun of his partner and best friend, Eli Sherman.

  He looked away and touched his toes, and then stretched from side-to-side. Checking the clock on his phone, he saw a calendar reminder that he had a psychiatrist’s appointment at four thirty.

  As he got back into the jeep, a car pulled up. A black Cadillac CTS. A woman got out and Stanton’s heart dropped.

  She was identical to Heidi in every respect, except her hair. It was jet-black and came to her shoulders. She was also wearing more makeup than Heidi would ever wear.

  The woman was in heels and a dress and she walked away, setting the alarm on her car without looking back. She climbed the three flights of stairs and unlocked her door. After she disappeared inside, Stanton picked up his phone.

  He held it and debated what to do. The takedown would happen tomorrow and was planned out in detail. If he called for backup now, he’d get a few officers and maybe the SWAT team, if they could scramble quickly enough.

  But he’d miss tomorrow. If she was as intelligent as Heidi said she was, she’d keep her mouth shut and ask for a lawyer if they took her down today. Stanton would have missed his opportunity to speak with her. To find out who she was. As he’d told Jones, to see her aura.

  He placed the phone down. This would be handled between them.

  Stanton left a message at Dr. Vaquer’s office that he would have to miss his appointment. Then he sat quietly and watched Heather’s condo. His stomach growled, and he wished he’d had time to grab something before she got home. But it was too late now. He wasn’t about to let her out of his sight.

  Another hour passed. It was into the evening when Heather came out again. She was dressed in workout clothes with sneakers. She got into her Cadillac and pulled away. Stanton followed.

  There were several methods of tailing a suspect, but they all involved more than one officer. The different cars would take turns behind the suspect. Rotating out every few minutes or so. The point was that the suspect not see the same car behind them at every turn.

  But by himself, he decided to leapfrog. It was a technique where the law enforcement vehicle would overtake the suspect, pass them by completely, and maintain a good distance ahead. Then the law enforcement vehicle would give way and fall behind. This could be done numerous times, so the suspect wouldn’t think the vehicle was following them.

  Stanton did this several times to the Cadillac. The jeep would race ahead, almost out of view, with Stanton keeping an eye on the rearview, and then he would drop back behind her.

  Finally, they reached a gym.

  Stanton watched her go inside and check in at the front desk. He got out and followed her. Smiling to the clerk, he said, “I might be interested in a membership. You have someone that can show me around?”

  A large black man with muscles that nearly tore his shirt open approached. He was bald and wearing a baseball cap. Stanton noticed that his calves were extraordinarily underdeveloped considering the rest of his body.

  “Jimmy, howya doin’?”

  “Jon. Good to meet you. So you mind showing me around?”

  “Not at all, come on, man.”

  Stanton followed him around the gym. The man was pointing out various pieces of equipment and talking about their effect. He must have assumed Stanton knew nothing about weights because he spoke to him like a child. A result of his underwhelming physique.

  Heather came out of the locker room. She skipped the cardio machines entirely and went to the free-weights. Stanton watched as she loaded a bar and did bench presses with more weight than he could probably do.

  “So let’s check out the pool.”

  Stanton smiled and nodded, following after the man.

  After a tour of the pool, the sauna, and the locker rooms, they were back out on the floor. Heather was doing pull-ups now, and Stanton counted at least twenty before he had to turn away and pay attention to the man showing him around.

  “So what you think? No contracts. But if you do sign a contract it’s twenty percent off the total fee.”

  “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

  “Well, why don’t you fill out a—”

  “I’m good. I’ll be in touch.”

  He walked out of the gym and back to his jeep. He waited until Heather came out and then followed her again. Her window was down and Stanton could hear music but couldn’t place it. It was in another language.

  Stanton’s phone rang. It was Dr. Vaquer.

  “This is Jon.”

  “Jon, hi, it’s Natalia. I got an email from my secretary that you cancelled your appointment today.”

  “I did, yeah.”

  “Well, I think it’s very important for us to keep our appointments. I would really like if you could come in a little later this afternoon. Maybe around seven. I’ll still be here catching up on a few things.”

  Heather turned at an intersection, and Stanton got cut off by a Nissan. He quickly made the decision to go up onto the sidewalk and turn. The jeep jerked up, then slammed down, the shocks creaking.

  “I’ll see if I can. No promises, though.”

  “Certainly. I’ll be here.”

  Stanton couldn’t see the Cadillac. He sped up and hit a stoplight. Looking down both sides of the street, he didn’t see it. He turned right and followed the road past several condominiums and apartment buildings. A grocery store was nearby, and he scanned the parking lot before continuing on.

  He flipped a U-turn at the next intersection and went the opposite way. Driving for a good ten minutes, he didn’t see the car.

  Stanton drove quickly back to Heather’s condo. The attendant let him through again, with an admonition that guests should be put on a list by the residents. Stanton said he would next time and then parked in front of her condo. The Cadillac wasn’t there.

  He waited a good hour, but it never showed. He’d lost her.

  38

  Stanton stopped at home and made dinner for his boys. Pizza, with pepperoni and extra cheese. He ate and then told them he would be back in an hour. Turning on the home alarm before leaving, he glanced back to his boys, who were watching television in the front room. He didn’t want to leave them alone, but knew he had to teach himself that they were independent people apart from him.

  He drove down to the medical offices near his home and parked up front. Only a few other vehicles were there.

  When he went inside, there was no receptionist in Dr. Vaquer’s office. The double doors were open, and Dr. Vaquer sat at her desk filling out paperwork. She smiled at him and said, “Come in, Jon.”

  He didn’t feel like lying down on the couch, so he sat across from her.

  “Thanks for coming,” she said.

  “It’s okay.”

  She lifted a pen in her hand and leaned back in the chair. “So, what would you like to talk about?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing, really.”

  “How are your boys?”

  “Good. Mathew, I think I told you, was caught with a girl in his room. I took him down to Waikiki to meet some of the street girls there.”

  “Prostitutes?”

  Stanton nodded. “I wanted him to see that it’s a slippery slope.”

  “Do you think what you say to him will have an impact?”

  “I don’t know. It didn’t with me when I was his age. But I have to try.”

  Her phone rang and Dr. Vaquer pressed a button, quieting it. “Sorry. No receptionist.”

  “It’s fine.” He glanced out the window to the darkening sky. “I’ve been thinking about something a lot lately.”

  “What’s that?”

  “About whether evil can be beautiful. What we talked about before.”

  She tilted her head slightly, and it reminded Stanton of a curious puppy. “I don’t think there’s many people in the world that deal with as much evil as a homicide detective. You’re the expert. Do you think it’s beautiful?”

  Stanton tho
ught a beat before answering. “The blood and gore is horrific. So are the interactions with the family of victims afterward. The terror the people go through just isn’t human. But there might be something about it that has… I don’t know if beauty’s the right word. But there’s something about it that could be alluring.”

  “What?”

  “The pattern. A man kills in a certain way every time and he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. It’s a pure expression of his unconscious.”

  “You use that term a lot. Unconscious. What is the unconscious to you, Jon?”

  “I think it’s the part of the mind that all our wounds go to. Everything that our consciousness can’t deal with is placed there and shown to us in our dreams. In moments where we aren’t paying attention. I think it directs us in ways we haven’t even begun to understand yet.”

  “Most neuroscientists and behaviorists don’t believe in an unconscious anymore. That it was conjecture by the psychoanalysts that’s been refuted.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. But I don’t think so. When someone is hypnotized and given a command, and then woken up to carry out that command later, they have no idea why they’re carrying out that command. Their conscious mind is aware of what they’re doing but it doesn’t know why. That means there’s a part of the mind that’s outside consciousness. Neuroscience can’t explain hypnotism in a satisfying way.”

  She crossed her legs, maintaining eye contact with him. “So these killers you see, what they’re doing is an expression of their unconscious?”

  He nodded. “Yes. You would be amazed how many serial murderers have no recollection of their killings.”

  “Like the hypnotism patient carrying out a command and they don’t know why?”

  Stanton had never thought of that connection. It was so obvious now that it seemed silly, and he wondered why it hadn’t come to him before. “I think that’s a valid analogy.”

  The phone rang again, and she turned it off this time and placed it in a drawer. “Well, I think we should talk about you specifically. You mentioned this new person you’ve met. Who is he?”

  “She. She’s a pediatrician.”