Finding Sarah (17 page)

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Authors: Terry Odell

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Police Procedurals, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: Finding Sarah
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Chapter Sixteen

 

 

Friday morning, Randy dragged
himself to his desk and stared at the mound of paper. Damn, the stuff must
multiply when the lights went off. He pushed the power button on his computer
and headed for the break room for a caffeine fix.

Some idiot had scheduled Randy’s
three court appearances over the whole damn day, which kept him in the office.
More database searches. More phone calls. Maybe make a dent in the pile of
reports to review and file. Ignoring the headache that had settled at the base
of his skull two days ago, he went back to work. A little of that headache
disappeared when he saw the notation, “Sarah” on his schedule. Dinner and a
play.

Randy didn’t realize Kovak was in
the room until he spoke. “You’ve got an hour before you’re due in court. Come
with me.”

“I’m busy.”

“You’ve been busy for the last
three days. Your cats?”

Randy rubbed his eyes. “Hanging
in.”

“No more leads?”

Randy shook his head. He saw
Kovak standing in the doorway holding his coat.

“I said come with me.”

“I can get in some more searches
before court,” Randy said.

“Yeah, and you can collapse from
exhaustion, too. Let’s get out of here. Consider it an early lunch. I’m buying.”

Randy recognized the irritation
in Kovak’s tone. He massaged the back of his neck and pushed away from his
desk. He followed Kovak outside, squinting when the sun hit his face. The cool
breeze erased some of the fatigue. “Where are we going?”

“Follow me.” Kovak led the way
until they were at the entrance to Pioneer Park, stopping to buy two hot dogs
and sodas from a cart. He handed one of each to Randy and slowed his pace,
ambling down the dirt path until he came to a picnic table near the playground.
“Sit.”

Randy lowered himself to the
wooden bench and set his hot dog on the table behind him. He sipped his cola
and watched moms push little ones on the swings and mediate sandbox arguments.
Kovak sat beside him.

“Deep breath, big guy,” Kovak
said. “Smell the flowers.”

Randy cracked a grin. “More like
pine trees, but I get the idea.”

“Now, you gonna tell me what’s
going on? How much sleep you had in the last few days?”

“What’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me? Other than we’re
partners and if we get a call, you’re the one who’s going to be covering my ass?
Right now, that’s not a comfortable proposition.”

Not having a response, Randy
turned and picked up his hot dog. “Shit, you had to get the works? I’m not
eating chili and sauerkraut before court, you idiot.” Or before his date with
Sarah.

“Hey, don’t toss them.” Kovak
extended his half-eaten dog.

Randy scraped the toppings onto
Kovak’s bun, resisting the temptation to slip and let them fall into Kovak’s
lap. He took a bite of his denuded hot dog, feeling the snap as his teeth bit
though the skin. The juices hit his tongue and he was suddenly ravenous. He
decided to worry about the garlic later and devoured the rest.

“Now, talk to me,” Kovak said. “I’ve
never seen you like this. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say it was a woman.”

A pink and blue plastic ball
bounced against Randy’s legs and he bent to pick it up. A blonde toddler of
indeterminate gender stood about three feet away, hands outstretched.

“Here you go.” Randy rolled the
ball along the ground and watched its owner grin at him before picking it up.

“What do you say?” came a
feminine voice from across the playground. The toddler stopped, turned and said
something close enough to, “Thank you”.

“You’re welcome,” Randy said.

“You know, that’s almost the
first civil word out of your mouth since I got back,” Kovak said.

“Three words. Or does the
contraction count as one?”

“I didn’t drag you out here to
discuss the finer points of grammar. I’ve covered half your cases for two days
while you’ve been gallivanting all over the state about a robbery that didn’t
amount to much more than a few hundred dollars. Then I figured it was your
cats. I know … well, I know what they are.”

Randy shrugged.

“Shit,” said Kovak. “It
is
a woman. Someone finally got through that brick wall of yours.”

Randy stared at the playground. Kovak
broke the lengthy silence. “What’s going on? There’s nothing in the case files
that would keep you this busy. And shit, don’t tell me I’ve been covering for
you so you can spend time with her.”

Indignation flashed like a summer
storm. Randy glared at Kovak, snatched up his trash and slam-dunked it in the
nearest trash can. “Thanks for lunch. A veritable feast. Now, I need to find
some mints before court.”

He felt Kovak’s hand on his
shoulder. He twisted away, but the hand came back, to his forearm this time,
gripping like a falcon. Randy yanked free, clenched his fists.

Kovak’s eyes blazed, but he
lifted his hands in surrender. “What the hell has gotten into you? I was out of
line with that crack, but—shit. If something’s going down, I’m here.” His voice
was gruff but Randy heard the concern.

“You’re partly right,” Randy
said. “All those extra hours have been for her. Not seeing her, though. Trying
to find out if someone’s trying to put her out of business. Maybe do her a
favor and see if her husband’s suicide was really suicide. Get her the
insurance money. Ease her mind a little.”

“But?”

“But it’s like you said. The
robbery’s open, but it was a negligible amount. There might have been some
vandalism afterwards, and someone was watching her apartment. Most of the
investigating is outside the box, though.”

“Chief’s getting pissed, you
know. I’m sure he knows I’m covering for you.”

“Yeah, well I appreciate what you’ve
done. Really. I’ve got a bunch of names with no bodies. Some hooks to
Consolidated, but there are too many layers. I’m tugging at threads, but they’re
not unraveling the right parts of the cloth.”

“I don’t know if it’ll help or
make things worse, but those two insurance files you asked about? Oregon Trust
finally got everything put back in order and five files were missing. Two of
them were claims from Sarah Tucker.”

Randy jerked to attention. “And
you were going to tell me when?”

“Easy, big guy. I found out about
twenty minutes ago, and I brought you out here because I didn’t want you doing
something stupid. I’m telling you now. My case, remember? I’ve stressed the
importance of finding the missing files to the folks at Oregon Trust.”

Randy exhaled. Kovak knew his
job. “Thanks. Another thread that might lead nowhere. But I’ll follow up.”

Kovak tilted his head back and
drained the last of his soda. “On one condition. You do it Monday.” He tossed
his soda can toward the trash can, giving a fist-pump when it landed inside.

“What do you mean, Monday?”

“I mean, take your weekend. Oregon
Trust is missing five files. They’re looking for them. Nagging won’t help. As
for anything else, I’m on call. If something hits, I’ll get Fletcher to back
me. Get some rest.” He tilted his head to meet Randy’s gaze. “I mean it. I’ll
call if something pops with your cats, or the robbery. Big guy, you need to
regroup. Maybe see your woman?”

When Kovak smiled, Randy knew he’d
have to work on his poker face. Sarah’s transparency must be contagious.

 

* * * * *

 

When Sarah slid into the empty
rear seat of the bus after work, her anticipation of the night ahead changed to
apprehension.

Stop it. She was going to dinner
and a play. Community theater, nothing fancy. Why was she thinking about the
afterward part?

What was she doing? She barely
knew Randy. Never mind that he turned her to jelly every time she thought of
him—she’d known him less than two weeks. She hadn’t slept with a man in over a
year. Of course she’d be aroused. Could that be all it was?

Her mind flew through all the
other possibilities. He couldn’t want her just for sex. Surely he could get any
woman he wanted. How many other women had he already had? What did she actually
know about him? She didn’t even know how old he was. Somehow, they’d hardly
spoken about anything but the case.

But he felt so … so … right. When
he held her, she melted right into his body. She told herself she couldn’t
sleep with him, not yet, not tonight. She swore she wouldn’t do anything to
encourage him, but she knew if he made the slightest move, she’d be all over
him like someone lost in the desert stumbling on an oasis.

Protection? No way was she going
to buy condoms. And even if she did, what would she do when … if … the moment
arrived. Tell him it was okay if he didn’t have anything, because she happened
to have a six-pack in her purse? She sucked in a deep breath. She knew she was clean,
because she’d been celibate since David died and he’d been her first and only
lover. But Randy. How could she ask him that? But how could she not?

Her face had to be beet red by
now. She looked out the window and realized she’d almost missed her stop. She
jumped up and pulled the cord and stood at the back exit of the bus, positive
that anyone who looked at her would be able to tell exactly what she’d been
thinking. Darn her transparent face.

Now she wanted to call the whole
thing off. Maybe Randy’d have to work late on a case or something. The walk
from the bus stop gave her time to regroup. She would enjoy the evening. She
would be calm and proper and they’d watch the play, and then they’d both go
home. And if he tried to kiss her good night, she’d say she never kissed on the
first date. Right. She kissed
before
the first date. She’d even made the
first move. Scratch that plan.

Sarah got to her apartment and
shut the door with a bang. Her heart dropped to her stomach as the beat-up
table and two chairs that now graced her dining area mocked her. No regrets,
she’d told herself last night when the eager newlyweds had come by to pick up
her old set. The memories of meals shared with David were just that. Memories.
She didn’t need a table to retrieve them.

According to Diana, Chris hadn’t
called her yet and the money from the sale of her dining room furniture had
bought her Diana’s promise not to listen to him for at least another month. And
there was enough of a cushion to make sure the utility bills would be paid on
time.

She stepped around the table,
letting her fingers explore all the scratches and gouges in its dull beige
laminate surface. With a sigh, she found a tablecloth in the linen closet and
spread it over the table. Memories were one thing. Constant reminders of her
failures were something else. A pair of candlesticks, a vase with some silk
flowers and … and it was a cheap table with a couple of candlesticks and some
silk flowers. Nothing more, nothing less.

She sighed. Randy wouldn’t be
here for two hours. She shouldn’t have let Jennifer talk her into leaving early
to get ready. Time would have sped by at the shop with Jennifer and customers
to talk to. What was she going to do for the next two hours to keep from going
crazy? She turned on her computer and started running the bath water.

Sarah soaked in a peach-scented
bubble bath until her fingers and toes turned to prunes. She tried a curling
iron on her hair, pronounced the result intolerable, shampooed it and began again.
Some gel, some fluffing, some hairspray and she was finally satisfied. Next
week, for sure, she’d get a professional trim.

She stood in her closet agonizing
over what to wear. She settled on a blue print skirt and a pale blue silk
blouse. Nothing fancy, something she’d worn to work many times. Shoes? She
pulled out her highest heels and slipped them on. Three steps to check the
mirror and she almost twisted her ankle. She’d need stilts to bring her height
anywhere close to Randy, so what was the point? Being able to look at his
collarbone instead of his sternum wasn’t much of an improvement. She kicked the
shoes back into the closet and put on a pair of black pumps with a much lower
heel. Sensible. Hardly provocative.

Sarah stared at the pile of
clothes strewn about her bedroom and burst out laughing. She took one final
look in the mirror. Almost as an afterthought, she unbuttoned the top button on
her blouse. Casual, not revealing. She’d play Mahjongg until Randy showed up.

Sarah lost count of how many times
she got up and peeked out the living room window hoping for a glimpse of his black
F-150. At five-fifteen she saw it drive past the building. She put on her coat,
picked up her purse, and checked her hair and makeup in the mirror again. She
strained her ears for sounds of footsteps approaching her door.

The knock came at last. Sarah
squinted through the peephole and her heart raced even faster. She knew she had
a stupid grin on her face, but there was no hiding it. She pulled the door
open.

Randy stood there, in charcoal
slacks, a black and white tweed sweater over a gray shirt—and a tie. Had he
worn a tie for her? The smile stayed on her face all the way down to his truck.

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