A Bogie in the Boat

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “Kid, you need to leave.”

  “There was all this stuff.” I turned around in the small space. “Where did it go?” I marched out of the bathroom and headed for the only other door on the third floor. I was pissed. I was sick of Leo Caralt, and I wanted someone to arrest him so I didn’t have to see his smug face anymore. I turned the knob of the bedroom door, expecting it to be locked.

  But it wasn’t.

  “Dammit, Linx!”

  I walked inside and lights automatically turned on. I didn’t think anything of it because the entire house was automated. Automatic lights. Automatic temperature control. Awful automatic toilet.

  The room was immaculate and—just like its owner—weird. It was layers of black and white. Black floor, white rug. White sculptured headboard, black pillows. Pendants in chrome and black dropped from the ceiling, and a series of black-and-white nudes covered one wall. I was a firm believer in the beauty of the human form, but these were out there. Even for me.

  In the center frame was a hairless model so pale she was nearly translucent, whose eyes and mouth were lined in white pigment. Next to it was another hairless model with dark umber skin whose eyes and mouth were lined in kohl. The same models repeated the series in different poses until the entire wall was filled. The women were like the action figures. Objects in clear cases, designed only to be observed.

  There were no books, no pictures, nothing personal. Just a platform bed with drawers at the base, a dresser, and a wall of nude photographs.

  Bogie turned in circles. “This one isn’t right.”

  I had to agree, but I dropped to my knees and began opening drawers under the bed. Perfect lines of socks and underwear filled the one closest to the headboard.

  “Linx, what are you doing?”

  “He put that baseball stuff somewhere,” I said. “We need to find it.”

  “We need to get the hell out of here. Wherever it is, it’s not here.”

  Vincent appeared next to Bogie. “What are you doing?”

  I opened the next drawer. White T-shirts lined up in more rows.

  “You’re not going to find anything here,” Bogie nearly shouted. “Get out, Linx.”

  More drawers, more neat lines of clothing. I shut the last drawer and sat back on my heels.

  Not the cards. We didn’t need to find the baseball stuff. Hell, he might have already hidden the baseball stuff. Or sold it. Or…

  Is Leo an addict? How did he get his hands on that much heroin?

  I asked, “Where does an addict hide their stash?”

  Vincent’s eyes went wide. “You’re asking me?”

  I looked at Bogie. “Where?”

  He looked even paler than his usual ghost self. “Where it’s not gonna be found or where they need it the most.”

  Leo was smug and thought he was smarter than everyone. He’d probably think no one would see him as an addict. Would he be careless about his stash? This space was utterly organized. Utterly under his control.

  So where was he out of control? Where did he need it the most?

  I thought about the odd bathroom. About the crammed-in baseball memorabilia that fit nothing else in the house. Leo hadn’t collected that stuff. Someone else had. Someone else, who’d collected it in the eighties when Leo was a kid.

  … if you’ve treated your children or grandchildren badly…

  I left the bedroom and walked back to the bathroom. Bogie followed me.

  “Where?” I asked as I stood in the doorway.

  “Try the toilet.”

  “The toilet?”

  “The tank in back, Linx. Lift up the tank.”

  I lifted the back cover of the state-of-the-art self-flushing smart toilet and found a clean white box affixed to the back. It was hooked over the edge with two small white hooks and invisible unless the ceramic cover was removed.

  “Pictures,” Frank said. “Linx, take—”

  “I got it.” I pulled out my phone and snapped pictures of the toilet and the box before I lifted the edge. Inside, just as organized as the underwear drawer, were several small hypodermic needles in plastic wrapping and several small baggies of white powder along with a measuring spoon and a plain silver lighter. Also in the box were several prescription bottles. I left them in the bottom.

  I took more pictures. It was opioid addiction in its most organized form. I tried to picture Leo Caralt shooting up, and I couldn’t.

  But there it was.

  Maybe he only used the heroin and the needles when he was killing people. Maybe he used them on himself. Maybe—

  I heard a door slam downstairs.

  Maybe I was an idiot who had no patience.

  I quickly replaced the toilet cover and walked out of the bathroom. I was good at running, but Leo’s house didn’t have any accessible windows on the third floor.

  “Call the detective,” Bogie said. “Call him now.”

  It was probably too much to hope that Leo was going to believe I was innocently using his bathroom again. Not after the last time he caught me. I could hear footsteps on the stairs, but they weren’t in a hurry. I quickly texted the picture of the heroin to Detective Lee and shot him a short message as I walked down the stairs to Caralt’s office.

  Found this working at Caralt’s. Help. Now.

  I heard the soft tone that told me the picture delivered successfully as I slid the phone in my pocket and stepped into the office.

  Leo Caralt was standing in the doorway with Bogie and Vincent flanking him.

  “Hey,” I said, as casually as I could. “Decided to get a little more done on the mural tonight.”

  “You didn’t text me you’d be here,” Caralt said, stepping into the room. He was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt buttoned to the neck and a pair of black slacks. A black tie completed the monotone look.

  “Oh shoot.” I stepped toward my brushes. “Sorry about that. I didn’t think. I just used my code. Did you leave the party because the alarm went off or something?”

  “Your code doesn’t set off the house alarm,” he said softly. “But the alarm on my bedroom door is another story.”

  9

  A Lot of Questions Don’t Have Answers

  Shit.

  I’m sure my face went blank as my mind raced. Only the bullshitting skills that had saved me from dozens of trespassing charges saved me.

  I felt my face heat up, but that was okay. Let Leo think I was embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t remember what room was the bathroom, and I—”

  “You were in my bedroom for nearly five minutes.” His face was stone-cold. “I certainly hope you didn’t pee on my bed like a naughty dog.”

  What the hell was wrong with this man?

  Bogie said, “Look for a way out. Forget the mural; you need a way out. You are not coming back here. Ever. Do you hear me?”

  I was looking for a way out and an excuse, all at the same time. “Okay, you caught me.” I tried for a laugh, but I was pretty sure it sounded fake. “My nan says I’m incorrigible. That means I don’t know what’s good for me, right? I’m too damn curious for my own good. I’m sorry, Leo.”

  He walked slowly toward me. “What were you looking for, Miss Maxwell?”

  I slid to the side, inching toward the door. “Nothing really. Call me design curious, but the rest of your house is so cool, I was dying to know what your bedroom looked like. Those photographs, by the way—”

  “I don’t believe you.” Leo’s hand was in his pocket. It looked like it was clenched in a fist. “I don’t believe a word coming out of your mouth. You knew them, didn’t you?”

  My eyes went wide. “What? Who?”

  He frowned and shook his head. “I didn’t… Why don’t you really tell me why you took this job, Miss Maxwell?”

  “I told you that you could call me Linx.”

  “I don’t want to call you Linx!” He lunged toward me but pulled back before we collided. “We are not friends.”

  I couldn’t hi
de my fear anymore. I felt myself shivering. “I’m going to leave. I’m sorry I came here tonight.” I tried to move around him, but he reached out and grabbed my arm, digging his fingers into my elbow.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Let me go!” I tried to twist away, but he was a lot stronger than he looked.

  “Give me your phone.”

  “Fuck you!” All pretense of politeness fled. “You’re hurting me. Let go.”

  “Who are you working for? The police?”

  “Are you insane?” I shouted. “Let me go or I’ll call the police!”

  Thank God I’d already called the police. I just hoped Detective Lee was already on the way. I could feel my phone buzzing in my pocket over and over again, but I ignored it. Leo was gripping my arm and it hurt.

  Bogie slid next to me. I could feel his cool presence at my back. “Deep breaths,” he said. “Don’t panic. Twist to the right and pull down, kid.”

  I could hear the fear in Frank’s voice, but his steady presence calmed me down. Leo wasn’t very big, but he was strong. He was standing between me and the door. I twisted to the right, but he anticipated me. Leo pulled me into a bear hug and kicked the back of my knee, making my leg buckle.

  “Why are you trying to get away?” he shouted. “What are you hiding?”

  “I’m not hiding anything!” He’d grabbed my hair, forcing my head up at a painful angle.

  “Fucking liar. All you bitches are liars,” he screamed. “Every single one of you. She was a liar and then she stole from me. From me!”

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about, you lunatic.”

  “I showed her though.” He twisted me to the ground. “Just like I’ll show you.”

  “You let me go now or I will scream this house down! Every neighbor on the canals—”

  “Soundproofing, bitch.” He spit in my ear. “Did you think you’d get away with what your friends couldn’t? They tried to steal from me, and I killed them. Just like I’m going to kill you.”

  We wrestled on the ground, Bogie and Vincent shouting around me. I tried to knee Leo in the groin, but he forced me to my side. I was squirming, but he was on top of me. Our fight wasn’t cool or choreographed. I was shoving him off as well as I could. I knocked his head back with my elbow, but I got a fist in the eye. His knee was in my stomach.

  “Linx, he’s got a needle!” Vincent shouted. “Scream some more!”

  “You bastard!” I yelled in his face. “You fucking insane bastard, let me go!” I turned my head and sank my teeth into his arm.

  “Fuck you!”

  “Linx, bite him again!”

  I turned to the other side and bit harder, right on his shoulder. He screamed with pain or anger. Maybe both. I could feel the energy building in the room. There was something explosive happening. My body felt electrified.

  Something hit the back of my head and fell to the floor.

  Leo stopped and his eyes went wide. “What the fuck?”

  I twisted away again and worked myself out from under his knee just in time to see one of Leo’s action figure boxes fly through the air and whack him on the side of the head. His mouth dropped as more boxes flew at him. I rolled away and covered my head as the office filled with a whirlwind of boxes. They pelted Leo from every side, some of the plastic cutting his face. He curled into a ball on the ground as I crept toward the door. Just as the last of the boxes fell from the shelves, I heard a window break downstairs.

  “Linx!”

  Leo was shrieking in rage—“You told them! You told them!”—still covering his head as I heard heavy footsteps running up the stairs.

  “LAPD! Get down, get down, get down!”

  I couldn’t hear anything after that.

  The back of an ambulance is not a comfortable place. I’d seen lots of cop shows that had witnesses hanging out there, wrapped in blankets while someone brought them some coffee and acted comforting.

  That was not my experience.

  “Do I get a blanket?” I asked Detective Lee. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a grey hoodie. It was the first time I’d seen him not wearing a suit.

  “Do you need a blanket?” he asked. “It’s like seventy-five degrees tonight.”

  “I guess not.”

  I sat and he hovered. Other people were going in and out of Leo Caralt’s house, bringing in cameras and lights and taking out bags I couldn’t see through. I wondered if they were taking all my paints and brushes. What about the mural? Had it been damaged when Bogie threw his temper tantrum?

  Leo was already gone. He’d been taken into custody almost immediately. The police photographer had taken what felt like a hundred pictures of me as the EMTs stood by. Then the police left me alone and let the EMTs work.

  And Detective Lee hovered.

  They bandaged my lip and checked out my eyes and did all the routine stuff that I guess happens after someone beats you up pretty thoroughly without doing any serious damage. According to them, I’d have a lot of bruises and I had a nasty cut lip, but other than that, I was fine.

  Of course, I wouldn’t have been fine if Leo had managed to dose me with the lethal syringe of heroine he’d had in his pocket. They found that on the floor among all the boxes that Bogie had somehow, miraculously, managed to throw at Leo. Bogie had disappeared. I couldn’t even feel him around me as Detective Lee hovered. Whatever energy he’d used had wiped him out. Vincent was around but hovering in the background, polite enough to leave me alone while I was being checked out.

  “Should I call your grandmother or your mom?” Detective Lee asked.

  “Neither, please.” I hopped down from the back of the ambulance. “I can walk home from here.”

  “Walk? You must be joking.”

  “Chris, it’s like three blocks. Please don’t get weird about this, okay?”

  He looked around, but only the EMT was looking at us. And yeah, she was smirking.

  “Fine.” He cleared his throat. “Let me tell my partner and I’ll walk you home.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked back to one of the patrol cars where a guy in a suit was talking with someone in uniform. Detective Lee spoke to him, and the other suit glanced at me, nodded, and continued talking to the uniform.

  He waited for me to grab my bag and thank the EMT, then we walked down Howland Canal, leaving Leo Caralt’s house behind us. We got away from the lights and the foot traffic, nearly to Ocean Avenue, before Detective Lee pulled me behind a giant oleander bush and wrapped me in a fierce hug.

  “Dammit, Linx. I’m so pissed at you right now.”

  I let myself relax against his chest. I lifted my arms and slid them around his waist, bringing him closer. He squeezed me tightly, and for the first time that night, I felt the shock start to set in. I began to shiver as he made soothing sounds and rubbed my back. I didn’t cry. Not quite. But there were tears in my eyes. I felt… fragile. That’s what it was. I felt like I might break apart if he didn’t keep holding me together. He rocked me back and forth in his arms. I’m pretty sure he kissed the top of my head, but I can’t put money on that.

  “When you sent that text, I nearly jumped out of my skin,” he said. “I don’t even know what I yelled at Marquez when I got him on the phone.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Fucking hell, Linx.” His words were angry, but his tone was relieved. “That could have been really bad.”

  “I know.”

  “What were you thinking?”

  Bogie would have said, Not much. I chose to remain silent. I’d been thinking I was angry and sick of putting up with Leo. Clearly that was not the most mature attitude to have.

  “Next time I’ll definitely come up with a better plan,” I said quietly.

  “Next time?” He pulled back. “Are you kidding me?”

  I chose to go the wide-eyed and silent route.

  “There is no next time, Linx.” Detective Lee—Chris—unzipped his hoodie and wrapped it around me, helping
me put it on as I winced. My shoulder was going to be pretty sore. Then he tucked me under his arm and started walking to my grandmother’s house. “Next time…,” he muttered again.

  “Thanks for saving my life so quickly.”

  “You’re welcome. Don’t break into any more murderers’ houses and we’ll call it even.”

  “You know, I wasn’t certain he was the killer. It was more of an educated guess.”

  “Are you ever going to tell me everything?”

  I looked up at him. “Would you believe me?”

  He shook his head and kept walking.

  “So the syringe of heroine, that’s going to be enough, right?”

  “That and your testimony about Caralt saying he killed them. If we’re really lucky, he’ll confess.”

  “I don’t see that happening.” Leo was too egotistical for that, and he’d likely get a very, very high-priced lawyer. Which meant I was going to have to testify. Which meant I was going to have to be creative about how I knew Vincent because that was sure to come out. “Maybe he’ll confess.”

  A girl could dream, right?

  “Depending on what we find when we search his stuff, you may not need to be involved. I think we’re going to have a strong case, even without his attack on you. If nothing else, just the pictures from tonight paint a pretty grim picture.” He paused and I stopped next to him. “What happened in that office, Linx? I’ve been in there before. Every single box was off the shelves, even the ones on the top. There was no ladder. Nothing that could reach all the way up there.”

  I bit my lip. “Someone got angry.”

  Disbelief warred with trust in his eyes. “Someone who could reach the top shelves?”

  “Yeah.”

  He opened his mouth. Closed it.

  Then we kept walking home.

  I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the list Vincent and I had worked up. I was on it. So was Raul. Other than that, there were only about a dozen names.

  “Are you sure?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “I lost touch with a lot of my college friends. These are the ones who’ll show up and be nice to my parents.”