ELEVEN
“Not a chance in hell, buddy,” I declared, crossing my arms over my chest to further emphasize my stance. “You think I’m going to let you put her in harm’s way? You’d better think again.”
“Zack, I’m not suggesting we put Jillian in harm’s way,” Vance patiently explained. “I’m suggesting we make this perp think she’s vulnerable and exposed, so that he would end up being lured out of the woodwork, so to speak.”
“How in the world would you be able to pull that off?” I asked, bewildered. “I don’t see how you’d be able to guarantee her safety, not without exposing Jillian to some degree of danger.”
“Suppose we go with your suggestion,” Vance said, dropping his voice. He cast a quick glance around him, as though he was afraid he’d be overheard. He ushered the three of us to the farthest booth from the front door. “Okay, Jillian is at your place. So is Taylor. I think it’s safe to say that someone wants to take Taylor down and, I’m sorry to say, whoever that is happens to be doing a pretty decent job of it. This person is smart. They’ve got to know that we’re getting closer to figuring this out. They’re going to want to finish what they’ve started, or else they’ll run the risk of getting caught and never be allowed to finish. If both Taylor and Jillian are at your place, what choice does this guy have? Either he tries to concoct some way to take Jillian down, which he won’t be able to do since she’s not alone…”
“I thought you said we had to make him think she was alone?” I asked, perplexed.
Vance appeared to be at a loss for words.
“And, if he actually does think she’s alone, wouldn’t that prompt him to go after her and not Taylor?” I argued. “Who knows what his time table looks like? He might have allotted a month, or even three to get this ‘job’ done. Besides, we don’t have any guarantees that he’ll even try to go after her if she’s not at her own house.”
“Four days,” Jillian whispered. “If he wants to maintain the illusion that whomever ate those muffins are cursed, and are fated to die four days later, then he will have to act tonight. Today marks day four. Tomorrow would be too late.”
Vance gave Jillian a triumphant look, but understandably, it wasn’t returned.
“Let’s look at it this way,” I continued. “Let’s go through the pros and cons of this little suggestion of yours.”
Vance nodded, “Seems fair. Okay. Pros. This will lure the perp out into the open.”
“There’s no guarantee of that,” I automatically said. “Sure, Jillian has a point, and that today marks the end of the fourth day, but what if this guy got smart and says, ‘the hell with it’? He could’ve just bugged out, never to be seen again.”
“True,” Vance admitted. “Your point is taken. All right, here’s another pro. Your dogs. You have Sherlock and Watson with you. Dogs have been protecting humans for thousands of years. They’ve got a great sense of smell and hearing. They’d be able to alert you if someone tries to sneak up on your house.”
I shrugged, “I’ll concede that point. Then again, I’m not sure how heavy a sleeper the dogs happen to be. What if they’re out cold and someone approaches the house? They might not hear them, let alone smell them.”
“And I’ll concede your point,” Vance said. “Okay, I’ve thought of a third pro. You know the terrain up there better than he does. If push comes to shove, and a confrontation is forced up there, you’ll know how to best avoid him, whether by hiding, or by finding something you might be able to use as a weapon.”
“That’s not a very strong pro,” I pointed out. “If a confrontation is forced? I don’t like the sound of that. Can’t you guys have an unmarked police car nearby? They do that type of thing in the movies all the time.”
“We don’t have the manpower for that, pal,” Vance informed us. “If we did, then that’d be the first thing I’d suggest. Since we don’t, then we need to come up with another viable solution. Oh! I’ve thought of another pro.”
“And I’ve thought of quite a few cons,” I glumly remarked.
Jillian swatted my arm.
“Okay, the fourth pro: you guys can be done with this ordeal once and for all.”
“I will admit, that does sound like a favorable pro,” Taylor remarked. “However, you’re the one putting yourself in the line of fire, Jillian. This is up to you.”
I frowned and held up a hand, “Umm, excuse me? Irritated Boyfriend would like to raise a few objections.”
“Has Irritated Boyfriend already raised this objection?” Vance dryly asked.
“Possibly, and that’s Mr. Irritated Boyfriend to you,” I haughtily replied.
All eyes turned to Jillian.
“What do you want to do?” Vance asked her, point-blank.
“Whereas I don’t relish the thought of placing myself in danger,” Jillian softly began, “I do trust that Zachary will be able to keep me safe. I want whomever is doing this to Taylor to be found and stopped. So, my answer is… yes. I’ll do it.”
I raised another hand into the air as a frown formed on my face. Again. Jillian gently pushed my arm down and patted my hand.
“This is my choice. Everything will be all right. I trust you will keep me safe.”
I took Jillian’s hand and gently pulled her to her feet. Vance had already exited the booth and when he didn’t offer to help Taylor up, I held out a hand and pulled Jillian’s friend to her feet, too.
I was rewarded with a dazzling smile from both women. Vance glared at me, as though I alone had made him look foolish. When I was sure Jillian and Taylor weren’t watching, I held out my hand. Without missing a beat, Vance reached into his pocket and handed me his revolver.
Later that evening, Jillian and I were sitting in my living room. I had a crackling fire going in the stone fireplace. Sherlock and Watson were asleep at the end of the couch, and the grandfather clock in the far corner of the room had just heralded the arrival of the top of the hour by chiming 9 times.
Taylor had settled into the bedroom next to my office upstairs. Understandably, she retired for the evening far early than either of us. Not wanting to disturb her, Jillian and I kept our voices to a very low murmur and remained downstairs.
Now that the two of us were alone, and I didn’t have to worry about anyone listening to our conversation (or judging us), the topic turned to one of our favorites: sci-fi movies. Jillian was a superfan, just like I was. We were always trying to convince the other which of our favorites were better (for the record, mine definitely were, by a long shot). I was a Star Wars fan, she was a Star Trek fan. I was always quoting Han Solo, or Luke Skywalker, and Jillian would tell me how fascinating she thought the Romulan Empire was.
Seriously? It wasn’t a fair argument. Who the hell would want to talk about those pointy-eared green-blooded evil bastards when there was so many more interesting things happening in the Star Wars universe? New movies, new characters, older characters dying off, and so on.
On and on it went, until the grandfather clock chimed again. Surprised, I noted the position of the hands and whistled with amazement. We had been arguing about Neutral Zones and do-it-yourself lightsabers for over an hour! How cool was that? I was about ready to say something to this effect when Sherlock suddenly bolted upright, as though the couch cushion he was sitting on had become electrified.
The hair on the back of his neck was standing straight up while he was let out a growl that had to be the fiercest, most guttural snarl I have ever heard from him. Naturally, Sherlock’s packmate awoke and joined him. Both corgis were growling something fierce, which was usually cause for me to laugh, since they never sounded that nasty. Not this time. The sounds emanating from my dogs had my blood running cold.
“What is it?” Jillian nervously asked.
She was now clutching my hand and anxiously staring at the front door, as though she expected whomever was out there to give a courteous knock. The dogs, however, were staring in a completely different direction. Both were staring throu
gh the door that led to the kitchen. I do believe it was time to get off my ass and check out the house.
“Don’t you dare leave me in here by myself,” Jillian cried, as she clutched my arm. “You’ve seen the movies, haven’t you? That’s just what these people want us to do: separate. And you know what? It’s always the girl who is the first to get it.”
“And I thought I watched too many movies,” I teased. “Don’t worry. The dogs and I have this. Stay here, and keep your cell handy. If you hear any type of shouting from me, then you’re to call Vance immediately.”
Jillian retrieved her cell from her purse and clutched it to her chest. She nodded fearfully. I rose to my feet and headed toward the kitchen. There was a certain something stashed behind the toaster, and I was intent on retrieving it before I went outside.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I hate guns. I always have, and I’m pretty sure I always will. And, for the record, I really, really, really hoped I wouldn’t have to use it. But, with that being said, I’ll do what I have to do in order to keep my family safe. Right now, that consisted of two lowrider dogs and one lovely girlfriend. There was no way I would let anything happen to any of them.
Vance had shown me how to engage and disengage the safety on the gun, so making sure the safety was still on, I slid the gun into my back pocket. Now, before you tell me I have no business sliding something that fires projectiles at an incredible velocity into my back pocket, and that I clearly don’t know how to properly handle a gun, then I’ll tell you that you’re right. I don’t. I’m sure I’ll look back and ask myself just what the hell I was thinking, but all I could focus on now was to make sure there wasn’t anyone trespassing on my property.
“Come on, guys,” I told the dogs. I approached the door leading into the garage and held a finger to my lips. “Now, be quiet, until we’re outside, okay? No barking. Not yet, anyway.”
Much to my amazement, neither dog made a peep as we entered the darkened garage. My Jeep was the only car present, so we had ample room to move to the two windows to peer outside. Well, I had room to do that. I wasn’t about to lift Sherlock up to window level so he could see outside. By the light of my cell I could see that my 18V rechargeable light was sitting within reach. My cell was promptly shoved into my pocket as I grabbed the heavy-duty lantern. As quietly as I could, I eased the door open and looked down at the dogs, who were standing at the threshold.
“Okay. Go. Be careful, you two.”
Both corgis slipped out and promptly disappeared. It looked as though they had headed up the hill, towards the winery. Just before I stepped outside, I caught sight of a small crowbar leaning up against the rest of the tools in what I had designated Tool Corner, which was the one corner of my garage where all my tools seemed to end up. Yes, this curved iron bar was certainly more preferable to what I had in my back pocket. Let’s be honest. The only way I’d draw that thing was if I absolutely had to.
A series of barks sounded from up the hill. I heard two distinctive pitches, which meant both dogs were barking. Then I heard something that had me dropping the crowbar and sprinting after the dogs. Someone was shouting profanities! Concern for my dogs had me running so hard it felt like my lungs were about to burst.
Just then, a dark blur entered my peripheral vision, saw me, and skidded to a stop. It was the intruder! And he was definitely a ‘he’, cause I caught the briefest of glimpses at his face. I also saw a flash of a red tee shirt and khaki pants. As for other distinguishing features, the glimpse I had was too fleeting. I couldn’t tell much else about the guy, other than he was faster than a damn jackrabbit. By the time I realized I was about to go tearing off after a potential murderer, Sherlock and Watson took off. The corgis, belonging to the AKC’s Herding Group, were built for running. Short muscular legs and an elongated torso made for a very efficient running machine.
I could barely could keep them in my sight, and that was with the help of a very powerful lamp. I managed to dial Vance and press the hands-free option all while running at top speed. I figured I’d have around ten seconds of legible conversation before I would begin wheezing so bad that there wouldn’t be a snowball’s chance in hell of being understood.
“Zack? I’m on the other line with...”
“I’m... I’m chasing after the guy. We’re heading... north, through the acreage I just bought. He’s quick! He’ll outrun me... he’s... not gonna...”
“I have two units in the area. Hang tight, Zack. We’re on our way.”
I didn’t bother trying to hang up. The phone was thrust back into my pocket and I hurried after my dogs. I had to stop several times just to see if I was still headed in the right direction. Thankfully, I could hear the sounds of Sherlock barking over my wheezes. Resigned, I tore off in the direction of the barks. I still was unwilling to let the dogs face this threat on their own and, comforted by the presence of the gun in my pocket, felt confident that I could protect them.
The sounds of barking suddenly disappeared, as though somebody had hit the mute button. I slid to a stop and tried my damnedest to tell which direction the dogs had gone. A quick glance behind me confirmed we were still within sight of the house. The warm, welcoming glow from my house were visible off in the distance.
Just then, I felt the gun in my pocket slip shift position. It almost felt as though it was becoming wedged, like it was somehow twisting around to point the barrel at a very delicate part of my anatomy. It had to be because of all the running. But, before I could try and reposition the blasted thing, Sherlock barked again, signaling that the chase had resumed.
So, what happened? What had caused the perp to stop? Better yet, what would cause both dogs to fall silent, too? It was almost as if… as if… ah. That had to be it. The perp must be trying to hide.
Movement sounded from directly ahead. I shone my light around the premises and saw a large patch of recently disturbed earth. This was one of the locations Doug and I had recently worked on. There used to be a large stump here, if memory serves.
I quickly swung the light around. If this was where I had taken out that stump, then that meant we had to be close to the small eastern border of the property which brushes up against the city-owned land. And, that particular property was full of trees and hills, making it the perfect place to hide.
That had to be what the perp was doing. He had found a location to hide, but the dogs had sought him out. Damn! Sooner or later, based on the speed in which that kid could move, he was going to manage to ditch us. We had to catch him before he got away! This insanity had to stop here and now!
The barking fell silent once more. Again, I came to an immediate stop. Sadly, the only thing I could hear was my own labored breathing. Which direction had the barking been coming from? Straight ahead? Or had it been coming from somewhere amongst the trees just outside the borders of my land?
“Sherlock?” I called out. “Watson? Are you close? Come on, guys. Find him! He’s gotta be hiding nearby!”
A siren appeared in the distance. Whether it was Vance, or it was the backup units he said were in the area, I didn’t care. Another set of eyes helping me search would be a welcome one, indeed. Plus, they’d more than likely be in better shape than I was, so that would mean…
A twig snapped loudly nearby. I sucked in a breath and held it. The kid was close! I directed my light over to my right. Shadows danced all over the ground as I swung the lantern this way and that. He had to be crouching down somewhere over there. I swear that’s where the loud snap of the twig had come from.
As if by magic, two sleek, furry forms appeared by my side. Sherlock snarled once on my left, while Watson added a growl or two on my right. I was right. The perp had to be over there somewhere. What I wanted to know, however, was whether or not the little punk was armed.
“I know you’re there, sport,” I called out, in my loudest voice. “Make this easy on yourself and just give up. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to get away. Give up now before you end up being bitten
.”
Several things happened at the same time. The two corgis lunged forward just as something leapt up and away from the large shrub on my right. Believe it or not, I had one of my rare moments of perfect timing. I was able to shine the light directly on the intruder, where he froze, like a deer caught in a pair of headlights.
There, caught in mid step, was the perp. I was right. It was just a kid. He blinked at me a few times before he tore off east, through the trees. Both of the dogs sprinted after him.
My mind must have been racing a million miles an hour. I had seen that kid before, but from where? Just as I took the first few steps after my unwelcome visitor, my foot caught the corner of a large rock that was sticking up from the ground. The damn thing was sticking up just enough to make itself a safety hazard. Caught off balance, I slammed into the ground – hard – and it was lights out for me.
TWELVE
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in here just a little bit longer?” Jillian was asking, her voice full of concern.
I guess I should backtrack just a bit. I had been both pleasantly surprised and confused as hell when I regained consciousness. The ‘pleasantly surprised’ bit happened the moment I opened my eyes: Jillian was staring down at me. The ‘confused as hell’ part came next, once I realized I was in a hospital.
“Really, I’m fine. I just had the wind knocked out of me. That’s all.”
“What you have is a mild concussion,” Vance dryly stated as he strolled into the room. “You might want to listen to her, buddy. You took a really nasty fall.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” I argued. “Doctors always over exaggerate the situation.”
“Really?” Vance countered. “Jillian and Taylor both said you had hit the ground so hard that, when the paramedics lifted you up onto the gurney, there was a perfect impression of a sprawled out man right there in the dirt.”
“How was it that you and Taylor found me so fast?” I asked, as I turned to look at Jillian. And, I must say, the concern on her face was quite touching. I could certainly get used to seeing her pretty face every time I opened my eyes each morning. Whoa. Where the hell did that come from?
Case of the Muffin Murders Page 17
