A Killer Past (12 page)

‘W
ANT
TO HELP
me put up these chairs?’ Jack asked, smiling at the shocked look Mary Harrington gave him the moment he stopped her backward motion.

‘Yes… . Of course,’ she said, after a slight hesitation. Then she smiled at the man who had been holding her wrist. ‘Thanks for the offer, Fred, but my mama taught me you always go home with the one that brung you.’

‘I was just …’

The man didn’t finish his excuse, and Jack said nothing. Silence, he’d learned, was often more effective than words.

‘I’ll … I’ll call you …’ Fred said, looking at Mary as he took a step back. ‘Sometime.’

She also didn’t respond, and Jack had a feeling if Fred did call, she either wouldn’t answer the phone or would tell the guy to get lost. He also had a feeling, considering how rigid her shoulders felt under his arm, that she’d also like him to get lost. He lowered his arm.

‘Thank you,’ she said, keeping her gaze on the other man’s retreating figure.

‘You’re welcome. That was a nice escape.’

She glanced up at him, then away, her expression guarded.

He grinned. ‘If these people want protection, they should hire you to patrol the streets.’

‘Is there something you wanted, Detective?’ she asked, half-turning toward him.

‘Just to say hello.’ He chuckled. ‘I take it you don’t like being pushed around.’

‘It’s not one of my strong suits.’

‘And I’m not a detective,’ he said. ‘Just a sergeant.’

She gave a nod. ‘I’ll remember that, Sergeant Rossini.’

‘A Neighborhood Watch only works if people report trouble. Pretending it didn’t happen, even if you do best your attackers, doesn’t put the criminals behind bars.’

‘After tonight, I’m sure you’ll be getting calls if anyone in this neighborhood sees trouble.’

‘You know what I mean.’

She gave him a sweet, grandmotherly smile. ‘In fact, I would like to report that my granddaughter and I also saw that dark-colored sedan. According to my granddaughter, it went by the house several times on Halloween night. I only saw it once that night, but I did see it again, a few days later.’

That wasn’t the report he’d had in mind, and she knew it. ‘This isn’t funny, Mrs Harrington. I could arrest you for hindering a gang-related investigation. For all I know, you were on Archer Street that Thursday night trying to buy drugs from those two … or maybe you were there to sell drugs.’

‘Please,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I was on that street because my car stopped running. I’m sorry I can’t help you, but I’ve told you all I can.’

Told you all I can
, she said.
Not all she knew.
Jack stared at her, wishing he knew how to get her to talk, how to persuade her to tell him the mystery of her past. She hadn’t even blinked when he’d said he could arrest her. The woman was absolutely frustrating.

Finally he gave up. ‘All right, you said you and your granddaughter saw a dark-colored car Halloween night. Can you be more specific?’

‘Not really.’ She actually sounded regretful. ‘My granddaughter was giving out candy for me that night, and it was getting dark by the time she mentioned the car and I saw it. I’m not even sure if that car and the one I saw a few days later were the same. Both had four doors. The one I saw in the daytime was definitely black, and I’d say it was a fairly new model, but I couldn’t tell you if it was a Ford or a Chevy or one of those foreign cars.’

‘Did you see the license number?’

‘No.’ She shook her head and looked to her right, as if trying to remember what she did see that night. ‘I should have called,
especially now that I’ve heard that someone else in the neighborhood was worried about the car.’

He snorted. ‘That makes two things you should have reported.’

‘If you say so.’ She extended her hand. ‘It’s been nice talking to you, Sergeant. And again, thanks for earlier. Now I really should see if Ella needs any help.’

He shook her hand, her grip firm. She hadn’t truly needed his assistance earlier, and they both knew it. They both also knew there was more he wanted to know about her. ‘Don’t try to be a crime-fighter on your own, Mrs Harrington. I will arrest you if you interfere in police matters.’

‘I’m sure you would.’ She slid her hand free from his. ‘Have a good night, Sergeant.’

Jack watched her walk to the front of the room. She stopped and said something to Ella Williams, then something to Phil Carlson. He wondered what they were talking about, but that thought was interrupted by a young boy.

‘Are you carrying a gun, mister?’ the boy asked.

He looked to be around eight or nine: a redhead with freckles. The woman standing close by also had red hair and freckles, and Jack assumed she was the boy’s mother. She stepped closer, smiling. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, but my son said he heard police officers always carry a gun, even when they’re not in uniform.’ She looked down at her child. ‘He thinks he wants to be a policeman when he grows up.’

‘Good for you, son. And yes, I am carrying a gun.’ Jack unbuttoned his jacket and pulled the right side away from his belt, revealing his Glock. ‘A policeman always has his gun with him when he’s on duty. As you can see, I’ve been wearing this one so long it’s worn a hole in the lining of my jacket. I either need to buy a new jacket or sew a patch there.’

The boy looked at the Glock, then at Jack’s jacket. Finally he looked up at Jack. ‘I think you should buy a new jacket.’

Jack laughed. ‘Looks that bad?’

‘It’s pretty old, mister … Officer … Uh …’

‘Sergeant,’ Jack supplied. ‘And you’re right. This jacket is old, so I’ll take your advice under consideration.’ As he again buttoned his
jacket, he looked at the boy’s mother. ‘Which street do you live on?’

‘Oak. Why?’

‘We’re still following up on that incident on Archer Street. Have you noticed any gang activity on your street?’

She shrugged. ‘Not exactly gang activity, but there have been some cars that go by our house that worry me. These are old cars, with real loud music playing. And the kids driving them have tattoos on their arms and make obscene gestures if I’m outside. I’ve stopped letting Kenny play out front.’

‘Call us the next time you see one of those cars.’

‘I will,’ she said, and took her son’s hand. ‘Come on, Kenny. Time for us to go home.’

It was time for him to go home, too, Jack decided.

Ella talked constantly during the short drive from the school back to Mary’s house. ‘Did you see how many people showed up?’ she said. ‘Way more than I expected. I think Officer Carlson was surprised.’

So was
I
, Mary thought.

‘And he gave us some really good information. I mean, we should, shouldn’t we, be letting the police know if strange cars are in the neighborhood? Did you know they found drugs in a car they stopped just last week? Or maybe it was two weeks ago. Anyway, he said they figured it was a drug run to one of the gangs here in Rivershore.’

Mary perked up. ‘Did he say which gang?’

‘Not exactly, but I got the feeling it was one of those Mexican gangs. I keep telling you, things aren’t the same as they were when we first moved into this neighborhood. Remember how we let our boys play outside until dark? We didn’t worry about gangs back then, or drugs.’

Mary remembered. Robby had played with Ella’s son, had been best friends with him until Robby went away to college and Ella’s boy joined the army, never to come back alive. She also knew, now, that back then they should have worried about gangs, that according to Robby gangs did exist, and not everything was as sweet and peaceful as Ella remembered.

‘Officer Carlson did say they thought those two boys that were
beat up on Archer Street were part of a gang. He said they really didn’t have a problem with the Mexicans until some guy got out of prison and moved here. I told him I thought they should make him leave, but he said they didn’t have enough evidence against him to do that, and that’s why what I’m doing – what we’re doing – is good.’

‘What
you’re
doing,’ Mary said. ‘This has been your idea from the start.’

‘But you’re helping.’ Ella pulled up in front of Mary’s house. ‘Has Robby been working on your garage door?’

‘My garage door?’ Mary turned in her seat to get a better look at her garage. The door, instead of being flush with the apron, was now up at least two feet.

For a second, Mary stared at her garage, her mind racing. Robby hadn’t said anything about coming over and working on the garage door. In fact, if she remembered correctly, when she’d told him she was going to a meeting tonight, he’d mentioned he also would be at one. But why was the garage door open?

She knew from past experience that once that door was up it was a chore to get back down. It couldn’t be done from the outside, only from the inside. Even if you pushed it down and thought it latched, it would slowly creep back up to about the level it was at now. Robby knew that. He knew the only way to keep it down was to use the latch inside the garage … and that was why she never parked her car in the garage, even now that there was room for it. If she did use the garage, after backing her car out, she would have to go back into the garage, close the garage from in there, and then go through her house and out the front door to get to her car.

Way too much work.

‘How long has it been since you were able to park inside?’ Ella asked, as if reading her mind.

‘I don’t even remember,’ Mary answered, still staring at her garage.
Who
, she wondered,
tampered with the door?

‘Harry did like to collect things. I still think you should have put those old records on eBay. I’m sure you could have sold them.’

‘Robby had a friend who collects them, and I didn’t need the money.’

‘Must be nice,’ Ella said, but Mary wasn’t really paying attention.

Did they get inside the house?
She remembered locking the inside door to the garage after using the drill to put a hole in the end of her kubotan, but she didn’t remember turning the deadbolt.

Her gaze switched to the front window. The drapes were drawn, but she could tell it was dark inside.
Did I leave a light on or not?
She usually did when she left at night, but did she this time?

Damn the memory. It wasn’t what it used to be.

Only one way to find out, she decided, and looked back at Ella. ‘Thanks for the ride.’

‘I was going, I mean, of course I was going … so I just thought, I mean, why should we both drive?’

‘I appreciated it.’ Mary opened her door and slid out. ‘Drive carefully now,’ she said and grinned.

Mary waited on the sidewalk as Ella continued down the street, past the next two houses, and then turned into her own driveway. Ella’s garage door went up smoothly, and Ella’s car slowly disappeared from view. As the door slid shut again, Mary glanced up and down the street. No black car. No traffic at all. Those neighbors who’d attended the meeting had either already returned home or gone elsewhere afterwards.

No one around to hear me cry for help.

Muscles tense and nerves on edge, she pulled her keys out of her purse, taking the kubotan she’d attached to the key chain in her hand. A dog barked somewhere in the distance, disturbing the stillness of the night, and a gust of wind cut through her pant legs, sending a shiver up her spine. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm her mind and ready herself. She had two choices. Stay where she was and call the police or go inside and see if anyone was there.

If she called the police, they’d want to go inside her house, and before leaving for the meeting, she’d been looking through her box of weapons. She should have put it away before walking out the door, but time had slipped by faster than she’d realized, and she’d hurried to grab her purse and get outside when Ella honked.

She’d figured, with the doors and windows locked and the window coverings drawn, no one from the outside would see that
box and its contents.

But if someone was inside …

It was too late to worry about what someone inside might have seen, but she certainly didn’t want the police noticing her weapons and asking questions.

That left one option. She alone would have to go inside and face her intruder – or intruders.

She unlocked her front door as quietly as she could and pushed it open. She didn’t enter right away, simply stood on the threshold, looked, and listened. There were times when she wished she still owned a dog. They’d had three over the years they’d lived in the house, mutts rescued from the Humane Society. The last one had had to be put down the year before Harry died, and Mary had decided no more. Not at her age.

A dog might have given her an idea if someone was in the house, might have alerted her to a stranger’s location. A dog might have deterred someone from entering.

But she didn’t have a dog.

Mary cautiously stepped inside and snapped on a light. She left the door open behind her, and took a few more steps in so she could look into the living room and kitchen.

She saw nothing unusual.

No one.

Slowly she walked through each of the downstairs rooms, snapping on the lights as she went, looking behind doors, in closets, and under the bed. She locked the door that led down to the basement. If anyone was hiding down there, they’d have to use the egress window to get out. Only when she was certain there was no one hiding on the main floor did she go up the stairs to the second floor.

Kubotan in hand, ready to use, she tried to make a silent ascent, her legs heavy and reluctant. The third step from the top creaked, setting her heart racing. She paused. Listened.

All she heard was the thumping of her heart.

Again she took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. And then again. Two more steps and she reached the landing.

She looked up and down the hallway, then slowly made her way to the nearest upstairs bedroom, the one usually reserved for guests.
She heard a car go by outside, but by the time she looked out the window, all she saw were tail lights. She waited for a while, looking out the window and wondering if the car would return. Listening for any unusual noises. Listening for the sound of breathing, the rustle of material, or the scrape of a shoe.