Guardian Angel

by Andrew Neiderman

  It was difficult to put it aside, but she went to watch television while she waited. Another hour passed and still Ed had not returned the call. Now her concern became more frantic. She called Bob Anderson, the man Ed had relieved. He had been with them the longest of anyone they used, and Ed had recently given him a junior partnership position. Ed expected Bob would eventually buy them out completely.

  “Maybe it’s just something wrong with his phone, Lily. This stakeout is in Beverly Hills, not South Central Los Angeles. What could happen? If anything, he must be bored to death.”

  “He knows I wanted him to check in with me, Bob. It’s not like him to simply ignore me.”

  Anderson was quiet a moment and then volunteered to take a ride over to Beverly Hills to see what was what.

  “I’ll call you from the location,” he said. “Or better yet, have Ed call you.”

  “Thank you so much, Bob.”

  “No problem,” he said, even though he was getting ready to go to bed.

  Less than an hour later, he cruised the street and looked for Ed Marcus’s vehicle. When he didn’t see it anywhere near the Lester home, he called Lily.

  “Is he home or something?”

  “No. Isn’t he there?”

  “No.”

  “Well, where is he?”

  “I don’t know, Lily. I know Tyler Barton was going to relieve him at midnight.”

  “Is Barton there earlier?”

  “No.”

  “What is it then?”

  “I wish I knew. Maybe he had to go to the bathroom or something. I’ll hang out there until he comes around. Ed’s too responsible a guy to neglect an assignment. He’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”

  “Call me the moment he does.”

  “Will do,” Bob said.

  Just after midnight, the phone rang. Lily had dozed off on the sofa and the television was still going.

  “It’s me, Lily,” Bob said. “Tyler’s just arrived, but there’s still no sign of Ed. Did he call?”

  “No,” she said. “What should I do?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe…maybe you had better call the police.”

  It was what she had feared hearing him say, but she knew it had to be said.

  “I will. Even if he has a good excuse and he’s embarrassed, it will be worth it.”

  “Absolutely. Call me if you need anything else tonight, or if the police want to talk with me, have them call me.”

  “I will. Thanks, Bob,” she said, and as soon as he hung up, she phoned the police.

  She could tell from the tone of voice of the dispatcher and then the officer she spoke with after she explained it all that they were not very sympathetic. The police always resented private detectives, even when they were doing work the police would never do, like staking out a divorce case. So she wasn’t expecting they would do much about Ed’s disappearance, but to her surprise, less than an hour later, the phone rang and a different Los Angeles police officer called. He was at a different precinct.

  “Your husband appears to be the victim of an assault and robbery,” he told her. “He’s been rushed to Cedars-Sinai.”

  He didn’t get the chance to explain much more. She dropped the phone and hurried to her automobile. Twenty minutes later she was in the emergency room, waiting to speak with the doctor who was working on Ed.

  “He had a severe blow to the head,” the doctor began. Lily was never comfortable with young doctors. In her mind and in the mind of most people her age, doctors should look and be older. With their age came experience. Young doctors were too technical minded, too obviously in it for the money. That was her opinion.

  “Blow?”

  “There was some skull damage and the pooling of blood has created pressure on the brain. We’ve called Dr. Skotas, a brain surgeon, who is on his way.”

  “You mean, to operate?”

  “Absolutely. We’ll be out to see you with the forms to sign.”

  “Forms?”

  “Standard forms, Mrs. Marcus.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “He’s unconscious, of course.”

  “I’ve got to see him. I’ve got to call our son and daughter. I’ve…Please.”

  “Right this way,” he said, and led her to the trauma room, where Ed was hooked up to an IV and heart monitor. His head was bandaged, but the blood stain was quite visible. The sight was too much. She felt her legs buckle and just managed a short “Oh” before she sank to the floor, her body seeming to fall in slow motion.

  She woke up to find herself on a gurney in the hallway. A nurse stood by holding her hand. The young doctor smiled at her.

  “You’re okay, Mrs. Marcus,” he said. “Just rest a while. I’ll check on you shortly.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “To see him like that. I couldn’t…“

  “I’ll get you some water,” the nurse said. “Just rest.”

  “I’m supposed to sign some forms.”

  “We’ll get to it. Don’t worry. There’s a police detective in the lobby waiting to speak to you. Should I bring him in?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He was a tall, African-American man with a well-trimmed mustache and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. He introduced himself as Detective Murray. He described how a parking-enforcement officer had found Ed. His car had been parked in a permit-only area.

  She shook her head.

  “Was he visiting someone in that neighborhood?” the detective asked.

  “No, no…He had no reason to be there. He was supposed to be in Beverly Hills. He was on an assignment. I explained that when I first called, when I realized something might be wrong.”

  “Maybe he had an errand to do in West Hollywood.”

  “He had no errand. He would have told me, and how could he leave his post? His reinforcement hadn’t arrived. What errand would he have that time of night in West Hollywood?” she asked.

  “We’re looking for witnesses, but there is no way to tell when he went there exactly, during the period you said he was on surveillance,” he said, without answering the question.

  What does he think, Ed was doing something he was ashamed to tell me he was doing?

  She sat up. “None of this makes any sense,” she said.

  “We’ll see what we can find out. Here’s my card,” he said. “I’ll call you as soon as I know something more, and if you can think of anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”

  “Why would I hesitate?”

  He nodded. “I hope he gets better,” he said, and left her.

  The nurse returned with the forms for her to sign. She didn’t even read them.

  “I’ve got to call my children,” she said. “I’m okay.”

  She got on her feet, brushed back her hair and started for the lobby.

  But she never got there.

  The young doctor called to her, and when she turned to see what he wanted, she knew immediately there was no point in her signing any forms.

  Scott was still in bed when his father came to his room. His knock woke him. For a moment he thought he had overslept considerably, but when he looked at the clock, he saw how early it was.

  “What’s up, Dad?”

  “Really weird thing happened last night. Ed Marcus was killed.”

  “What?” He sat up quickly. “How?”

  “Apparently, he was assaulted and robbed in West Hollywood. Whoever did it struck him on the head with something severely. They called a brain surgeon in, but Marcus didn’t last long enough for him to even wash up.”

  “West Hollywood?”

  “Yes. One of his associates just called. They’re calling all their clients with active cases. I’ll look into another agency for us,” he added.

  “I don’t get it. Was he personally on our case at the time?”

  “Apparently, but he left the location for some reason and got himself robbed and killed,” his father said. “I’m calling Gerry Orseck first thing and tell him how good his recommenda
tion for a private detective has been. Obviously Marcus didn’t take the situation that seriously, if he left the location to do some shopping or something.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Who knows? Maybe he had a girlfriend. Don’t worry. I’ll find someone else.”

  “My God, the guy seemed…more than competent.”

  “People, as you continually learn, Scott, are often not what they seem to be.” He started out and stopped. “Under the circumstances, with all this madness going on in your life, I’ve decided to do the London trip myself. You’ll mind the store—as best you can,” he said, and left.

  Scott fell back against his pillow. He was beginning to feel like someone slipping and sliding on ice. First, Megan hits him with a petition for divorce, and despite her expressions of unhappiness and complaints, he doesn’t see it coming. Then he discovers she is seeing another man. There’s a real possibility she has been for a while, which again is something he doesn’t see coming. He follows his father’s advice and gets a private detective, and the private detective is killed the very next day in a robbery. Apparently Dad was right—Marcus didn’t take his situation seriously enough. But how would he ever have been able to see that coming?

  Despite having one of the better divorce attorneys, he was feeling more and more like someone who was a victim of circumstances beyond his control. No matter which way he moved or what he did, the events would have their way.

  He thought about this as he rose and dressed. Once it was all thrown into the machinery of the system, with the legal maneuvering, the courts, lawyers with their own egos and reputations at stake, as well as he and Megan with their egos, the person with the most to lose would be Jennifer. She was the one who would be used to get Megan or whom Megan would use to get him.

  Maybe he should try to reason with her once more. He could call her and suggest a truce, take her to dinner and get her to see how they were both hurting Jennifer. He would do anything she wanted, write out a contract, in fact, that he would behave differently, anything, if she would reconsider and give him—give them—one more chance. He would, and he had to swallow hard to get himself to agree to this, even overlook her affair with another man. He’d even take the blame for it.

  She’d have to go for this, he concluded. It was more than fair and more than reasonable. He’d never tell his father about such a meeting and offer, of course. He’d say Scott had no spine, and if for some reason it didn’t work out still, he’d blame him for every new concession they would have to make. But that didn’t matter. This was his life. These were his choices, and most of all, Jennifer was his daughter.

  The idea seemed to restore his energy. He ate a good breakfast and headed off, with the decision when to call to propose the truce the only question left. He checked the time. She’d be bringing Jennifer to school about now, he thought. He’d give her time to get back home and if she agreed or even wanted to talk about talking about it, he would leave work and meet her. It didn’t have to be a dinner. It could be lunch, or maybe just a meeting in their living room. Whatever she wanted was fine with him.

  He had a renewed bounce in his step when he entered the office. Arlene Potter looked up with a smile of surprise on her face. Of course, she knew all the details about his current crisis. She expected he would be depressed. He hated the tone of pity in her voice.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Potter,” he practically sang.

  “Morning, Mr. Lester. Oh, Mr. Lester…,” she called before he entered his office.

  “Yes?”

  “There’s a message on your desk from a Bob Anderson. He was quite insistent that you call him as soon as you came in,” she said.

  “Anderson? Don’t recall the name. What realestate company is he with?”

  “Not with any real-estate company. He said he was a partner with Ed Marcus.”

  Mrs. Potter knew who Ed Marcus was and that Scott had gone along with his father’s suggestion to hire a private detective to spy on Megan. She was discreet enough not to say it, however. He nodded and went right to his desk, saw the message and called Anderson.

  “I heard the news about Ed Marcus this morning,” he began as soon as Anderson said hello. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, it’s terrible, but I’m calling you because I don’t want you to think I won’t be on your case.”

  “Well…”

  “No, please listen, Mr. Lester. I’ve been with Ed for nearly ten years. I know the man. He wouldn’t have left your house unattended and driven off to do some errand or something in West Hollywood. If he couldn’t be there, he would have had me or one of our guys replace him or spell him. We’ve got excellent communication on the job.”

  “Well, what are you saying? I don’t understand.”

  “Something smells about all this. I think…I think this isn’t just about marital difficulties.”

  “Well, what is it about then?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I think you shouldn’t just drop us.”

  Scott knew exactly what his father would say when he heard about this conversation: The guy is just trying to hold on to a commission.

  Maybe he was. Maybe his father was right.

  But he woke up this morning thinking about the one who was really the victim here, Jennifer.

  Protecting her was more important than who was right and who was being a sap and falling for someone’s effort to save his commission.

  “Okay,” Scott said. “Stay with it and keep me well informed.”

  “Will do, Mr. Lester. Thank you,” Anderson said.

  Scott hung up and sat back. Was he doing the right thing? Less than twenty minutes ago, he’d been ready to call Megan and propose a truce.

  What kind of a truce is this if I’m having her followed and placed under twenty-four-hour observation?

  His father would say she could tell you she’s going along with the second chance, but continue with the other guy. How would you know for sure? Keep the detective.

  Do what Dad says, he told himself, and rationalize it by telling yourself that you’re doing it only for your daughter’s sake.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Megan froze for a moment after she pulled into the school parking lot. He was in the far-right corner, standing next to what she assumed was his pickup truck. The moment he set eyes on her, he started in her direction.

  “Come on, Jen,” she told her daughter and went around to open the door for her.

  “Morning, Megan,” he said.

  She looked up at him as she closed the car door behind Jennifer. He could see she was shaken by his surprise appearance.

  “Why are you here? How did you know to come here?”

  “You mentioned the school at dinner,” he reminded her.

  “Well, what are you doing here?”

  “I didn’t have to be at work until early in the afternoon. We’re waiting for some equipment to arrive at the site.”

  “So?”

  He wasn’t happy about her reaction, but he calmed himself, told himself it was understandable. She was under a great deal of pressure, pressure put on her by this creep husband, which was more reason for her needing him now.

  “I have some news for you, news you’ll want to know immediately.”

  Jennifer held Megan’s hand and stood silently looking up at him.

  He squatted and reached out for her hand. “Hey, Jennifer. You going to have a good time at school today?”

  She nodded.

  “Hey, here’s something for you. It’s a tiny flashlight, see? It’s on this key chain. You just push it here and a light goes on, see?”

  Jennifer nodded.

  “It’s yours. Whenever you’re frightened again, you just push the button and the light comes on and chases away anything that scares you, okay?”

  He practically pushed it into her hand. She looked up at Megan.

  “Say thank you to Mr. Wallace, Megan.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I have to take h
er in, Steve. What is it?”

  He looked up at her and then stood and leaned to her left.

  “You were right with your suspicions.”

  “What suspicions?”

  “Last night I thought I would drop by. I didn’t like the way you sounded on the phone, and I thought I would just stop in to say hello. I bought a box of candy to give you. It’s in the truck,” he added, gesturing back at it with his head.

  “And…?”

  “As I was getting close to your house, I noticed a vehicle parked across from it. The man in the front seat had a camera aimed at the front door. He clicked off some pictures, so I rode by, went around the block and returned. He was still there. I parked on a parallel street and walked to your block. He was still there. I waited for nearly an hour, Megan. He never left, so I knew it had nothing to do with real estate. The house hasn’t been put up for sale yet, right?”

  “No, but I imagine it will be. Who was he?”

  “I think it’s pretty obvious that he’s someone your husband’s hired to spy on you, probably some private detective.” He looked out at the street. “He or an associate of his might have followed you here this morning.”

  She looked more hurt than angry.

  “It’s something husbands and wives do when they are in the middle of a nasty divorce. They hire these people to try to get something they can use against the other one in court, especially if there’s any question about child custody,” he added, nodding at Jennifer. “It’s a slimy thing to do to someone like you,” he added.

  She looked speechless.

  “I didn’t mean to spook you, but I thought you’d want to know right away.”

  Some other parents drove in to drop off their children. Megan smiled and waved at a few.

  Keeping her smile, she said, “I can’t believe it. I mean, I don’t want to believe it, but it is easy to believe. Gordon Lester, Scott’s father, doesn’t like to lose anything. Rules, morality, ethics, even the law doesn’t mean anything unless he can use it to his advantage. Sometimes, I feel like I married some Mafia don’s son.”

  “Sorry,” Steve said.

  “I’ve got to take her in.”

  “Sure. You want to go for coffee?” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got another two hours or so. I’ll follow you home afterward. You’ll pull into the driveway and go into the house and I’ll check the street and call you. How’s that?”