Finding Susan (6 page)

Kate dialed 911 and cupped her hand around the speaker, directing all the sound into her ear.
 
The other end was picked up, and a drowsy voice came on the line.
 
“Hello?”

Great, I’m going to get killed and this cop just woke up
.
 
“There’s somebody in my house, I can hear them from upstairs.”

“Alright, ma’am, stay calm.
 
Don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself, and do not attempt to apprehend the intruder yourself.
 
Can I have your address?”

She gave it to him and waited, heart beating a mile a minute.
 
After a few seconds of silence on the other line, there came a sigh.
 

“Kate, is this a joke?”
 

Of course, Kate thought, almost collapsing.
 
Blake.

“A joke? What are you talking about? There’s someone in my house!” Kate whisper-shouted into her phone.
 
She heard some noise from the downstairs, and footsteps.
 
Another door was opened, and the low hum of the refrigerator.
 
Kate stood stock still, her heart a painful flutter of fear.

“Kate? Kate, are you there? Look, don’t do anything, I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.” The other end went dead.
 

If it had been Sheriff Duffy, Kate would know that help was on the way.
 
But it was Blake, and he probably thought she was trying to pull one over on him.
 
Oh no! He wouldn’t be ready when he came because of his damned certainty that she wasn’t much more than the girl he knew in high school.
 
What if he never came at all?
 

Just thinking about it got Kate so steamed she was determined not to give in.
 
She flipped the switch on the taser, held it out in front of her, and crept down the stairs.
 

A yellow light was streaming in from the kitchen, and the refrigerator was humming along.
 
I wasn’t sure that thing worked
, Kate thought incongruously.
 
She moved down the stairs with a quiet that surprised even her - they were a squeaky lot, but she knew them well.
 
She remembered times when she’d known that playtime was over upon hearing her aunt make the stairs groan and squeal under her weight, coming to demand some service right away.
 

Kate reached the ground floor and stepped on loose mail and bits of carpeting every chance she got.
 
The light was shifting and shadows stretched from the kitchen to the back wall of the living room.
 
There was an animal squeaking sound, like the squeal she’d heard earlier but softer and more pitiful.
 
She took a quick step and peered into the kitchen.
 

It was a large man, covered in a hooded plastic raincoat with a wide-brim hat sticking out from under that.
 
She couldn’t see his face, but tied on a rope just behind him was a string of dead rats and squirrels.
 
One of them was still moving about on its line, trying to gnaw free but without the strength.

Leaving that poor animal alive and in pain was enough for Kate.
 
She bounded into the room with a snarl, stomping loudly on patched linoleum flooring.
 
The taser was shot off the instant the intruder turned around, and the rush stopped all at once as she saw the face of Joe Bob Mortimer, giving her a smile just before the little electrodes got him.
   

***
***
***

Even I’m not made of stone
, Blake thought as he looked at Kate.
 
It was his job to lecture her now on how she’d not only endangered her own life, but could have seriously hurt old Joe Bob, but that lesson was already written in her face by her reddened eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.
 

And maybe the oppressive feeling of the house helped keep him quiet, too.
 
He hadn’t been up here since he’d helped the coroner cart away old Aunt Gladys, and the place had fallen into deep disrepair since then.
 
It must have been more than Kate had anticipated.

“So, I suppose you think you were right about me all along, eh?” Kate said, her voice scratchy from crying.
 

“I don’t follow you,” Blake said.
 
He was standing over Joe Bob, holding his flashlight to the man’s eyes.
 
He was moving about and murmuring, so it was a good guess that Kate hadn’t killed him like she thought.
 

“You think I think I had to do this myself just to prove something to you.
 
That’s just what you’re thinking.”

“Not even close,” Blake lied with a rough sigh.
 
It was definitely close, or at least in the ballpark.
 
She was afraid to have some man come in and save her day, especially since she was so sure she could do it better.
 
Looked at in context, the whole thing was typical Kate Becker.
 

“Well, good, ‘cause that’s not why I did it.
 
I did it to help you.”

“Because you could do my job better than I can,” Blake said.
 
He knew it.
 

“No, because you were so sure I was just being a hysterical woman that you were going to come in here unprepared.
 
You knocked on the door, for Pete’s sake.”

Blake didn’t answer, because she got him there.
 
He didn’t take it seriously.
 
Of course, since it was Joe Bob he could be considered vindicated, but he knew that wasn’t the point.
 
If it had been some sort of monster, Blake would have been in danger and he would have put Kate in danger.
 

“We both could have been in real danger,” Kate said, echoing Blake’s thoughts.

She was working up a head of steam, getting ready to not only absolve herself totally of guilt, Blake figured, but to place it all squarely on his shoulders.
 

“Yeah, Ole’ Joe Bob here might have made his sheep nuzzle us to death, or he might have made us try some of his squirrel stew,” Blake said, pointing back towards the line of dead animals.
 
Kate looked at them too, obvious disgust registering on her face.
 

“Gives me the creeps.
 
I just feel awful, Blake.
 
Maybe he got confused, or maybe he thought he was coming to take care of Old Gladys.
 
Who knows what goes on in his mind,” Kate said.

“Yeah,” Blake replied.
 
“You know, he isn’t a baby.” He frowned, vaguely bothered by something and not sure what. “Just look at him - truth is, he could be dangerous.
 
If he wanted to cause trouble he could be like a...
 
well...”

“Bull in a china shop?”

“I was hoping to find a more original saying, but yeah.”

“No way.
 
Not Mr. Mortimer.
 
He’s way too gentle.
 
The worst he’d act out would be like... a manatee at a sushi place.”

Blake let out a laugh.
 
Of course she’d be better at words than he was.
 
She was a bloody lawyer, after all.
 
Made plenty of money at it too, he wagered.
 
He’d seen her car all packed up as he came into the house.
 
She must be here for a long vacation.

“Anyway, he’d nuzzle us to death with Mr. Sticha’s sheep.”

“Not anymore.
 
Mr. Sticha’s been dead for four years.
 
Left his place and his sheep to Joe Bob here.
 
That’s why he likes to be called Mr. Mortimer.”

“Oh, wow.
 
I guess more has changed than I thought.
 
You folks should print a bulletin.
 
Once every five years oughta cover it.”

Blake was ready to be annoyed by her tone, but once again a strange feeling made him do a double-take. She sounded caustic, but looking into her pretty face, he saw the truth. This had shaken her badly. She felt awful about what she’d done. Or maybe she just felt awful about having to stay in this old rotten place and waking up to find a creepy guy like Joe Bob washing rodents in her kitchen sink. That would stand to reason. That would be enough for most people.

Would it be enough to get her to pack up her car and head back to San Francisco? He could only hope.
 

But the man was stirring.
 

“He’s coming to,” Blake said.
 

Joe Bob had opened his eyes a couple of times, but this time they were staying open, and he was now working his mouth.
 
He looked around the room and made eye contact with Blake for an instant.
 
It was a shock - his eyes looked strange and different. There was malice there, malice and a sharp intelligence no one would have connected to the man. Blake frowned, wondering if what he’d seen was real or all in his mind.
 
Then all that disappeared and Joe Bob’s face crinkled up like it was about to cry.
 

“What’d I do?” he said.
 
His eyes squeezed tight, and he let out a big sob.
 
“I’m so sorry, Miss Becker.
 
I am.
 
I didn’t even think you’d be here.
 
Miss Gladys, she would let me come in after I done my hunting at night and store some stuff here sometimes.
 
She’d sleep right through.
 
I’m just so sorry.”

“Oh, there there,” Kate said, and she was holding Joe Bob up.

“Don’t do this again, Joe Bob,” Blake said.
 
Joe Bob looked at him, his eyes still squeezed tight, and he nodded.
 

“Yes, sir.
 
I won’t never do it again.
 
I’m so sorry.”

“Blake, don’t scold him.
 
He’s had enough to go through.
 
How are you feeling?”

“My head hurts, Miss Becker, and I’m awful thirsty.
 
Think I could have something to drink?”

“Sure,” she said, and gently let him down before going to the sink.
 
The pipes sounded like the legions of the damned were shouting to be let free when it first turned on, and then water spouted out.

Blake kept his attention on Joe Bob.
 
There was something strange about seeing the man there, blubbering and moaning like a child.
 
Joe Bob looked at Blake again, and smiled.
 
All the childishness was there that Blake could expect, but that one glance into Joe Bob’s eyes still stuck with him.
 
It was like looking at somebody else for a split second.
 

“Mr. Officer Spanner, do you think that once I’ve had my glass of water you could give me a ride back to my house?
 
I don’t feel up to walking.”

“Sure,” Blake and Kate said at the same time.
 

Kate didn’t bother looking at Blake.
 
She was rinsing a glass out a few times, and then filling it to give to Joe Bob.
 
A little moonlight was streaming in through the window above the kitchen sink.
 
For a moment, Blake angled his high-power flashlight away from Kate, leaving her in darkness.
 
The light from the moon seemed to caress her as it came in.
 

She was wearing an over-sized t-shirt, which Blake guessed she slept in.
 
It was baggy but didn’t de-sex her.
 
Rather, the folds seemed to press against her with an intelligent prescience, like the shirt itself knew just where a man might like to look and curved there in ways to reveal nothing and suggest mighty intriguing worlds.
 

“Would you please put the light back here, Officer Spanner?” Kate said in a mock-officious voice.
 
Blake did as she asked.
 
“And I’m not sure what you were thinking, sir, but I could still see you in that light, and I’m not sure I liked where your eyes were headed.”

Blake’s eyes widened with surprise, and his jaw clenched to keep from saying what he would have liked to.
 
She sure cheered up fast.
 
How Kate could turn this situation into some bizarre pick-up scene was beyond him.
 
It was apparently beyond Joe Bob, too, who was looking between the two of them with a very confused expression between sips of his glass of water.
 

“Finish that up, Joe Bob,” Blake said through near-to clenched teeth. “I’d like to quit bothering Miss Becker as soon as possible.”

“I still feel so terrible, Mr. Mortimer,” Kate said, and she shot Blake a quick dirty look that he couldn’t figure.
 
“The minute I get this kitchen up to snuff, I’m going to treat you to a great big steak dinner.”

“Aww, that’d be swell, Miss Becker.
 
I could catch some squirrels and....
 
oh, I bet you rather have cow-steak.” His face fell, and he started to look even sadder.
 

“Well, we’ll see,” Kate said.
 

Joe Bob looked up at her and nodded sagely, then he downed the rest of his glass of water in one gulp.
 
“Ready to go, Mr. Office Spanner.
 
Miss Becker, could you grab hold of my things?
 
I think I’m gonna need help walking to the car.”

“Oh,” Kate said, and her face looked like a new wave of guilt had crashed upon its shore. Seeing that made Blake a bit more cheerful. So the woman was actually capable of remorse. He’d never have guessed. If they could just stop this constant snarking between them, maybe…
 

No. He grimaced. Don’t even think it. The first order of business around here had to be to get her to head back out of town, pronto. Talk about a magnet for trouble—she just naturally seemed to draw disasters around her. It would be better if she went to have her next crisis somewhere else.