Forever Mine (3 page)

She fished through her memory for anything else which might prove important.

“He stayed behind when the family moved away. He often hung out at the beach—I think he slept there sometimes—and I’d see him panhandling around the neighborhood. Twice, he slept on my front steps. I gave him money a few times then told him I couldn’t spare any more. I haven’t seen him in almost two years. Is he in some kind of trouble?”

Chase nodded. “We think it’s very possible.”

“Oh.” She bit her bottom lip. It occurred to her then to guess why she had become involved. “Am I in trouble, too, because I wired him a hundred dollars a few days ago?”

Her admission caught everyone’s attention including Detective Sutter’s, who had rejoined them in the front room.

“How did sending him money come about?” Sutter moved in close to Allie. His eyes drilled into hers, the message clear: no jerking around. If meant to intimidate, it worked.

She backed away several steps.

“He called me on my business phone.” She indicated the instrument sitting on her desk. “The number is listed in the city directory, so I supposed he had no trouble finding it. My personal number is unlisted.”

“Where did you wire the money?” Chase asked.

“To a Western Union office in Tacoma, Washington.” Aiding and abetting entered Allie’s mind.

Sutter’s eyes strayed to the phone. “What exactly did he tell you?”

“Not much. He mentioned he’d lost his job—I didn’t even know he’d left the Bay Area—and could I help him out?”

“Did he say if he was alone?”

“He was with his buddy. Dave. Should I not have sent the money?”

“No, no, good move.” Sutter directed this to the lieutenant and Detective Thompson.

Well, finally, Allie had scored a point in the plus column. Hopefully, that entitled her to a Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card to erase whatever mishap she’d caused to irritate the cops.

“Did Jimmy mention anything about where they’d met and how long he’s known Dave?” This from Detective Thompson.

“No.” Allie shook her head. “Is it important?”

Thompson shrugged. “No…at least not at the moment. Depends a lot on how much more we find out.”

“Is Dave in some kind of trouble?”

Sutter eased back into the interview/interrogation, tilted his head, smiled in a sour “you bet” sort of way, and nodded.

“Oh.” Allie grimaced.

“Did you chat with Dave, too, or just your little boyfriend?” The furrows around Sutter’s mouth deepened. His eyes, which were an interesting mix of dark brown and gold, appeared weary. No doubt from sitting in a car all day, spying on the citizenry.

“Jimmy isn’t my boyfriend.”

At thirty-one, Allie had few prospects—actually no prospects—which was her choice. She had a three-year-plan to produce a name brand line of daytime and casual evening fashions, along with her bridal creations. Now, a year into the plan, she’d put dating and its many distractions on hold. Anyway, she’d never get mixed up with a guy, who was barely older than a kid.

“Yes, I talked briefly with Dave the second time Jimmy phoned.”

“You spoke with them a second time?” Sutter gave the other two cops a knowing glance, which seemed to underline the importance of the calls. “What did he have to say?”

Allie had to think back on the conversation, which she recalled as fairly brief. “He mentioned leaving Seattle…said he was tired of the weather. Nothing earth-shattering. He talked about relocating south, maybe to the L.A. area, and would probably pass through San Francisco on his way. I didn’t pay that much attention.”

“How about Jimmy? Did he ask for money again?”

“I thought he would but no. Not outright, anyway. He kind of hinted he’d already spent some of the hundred I’d wired him. I think I mentioned Designorama, the fashion contest I’ve entered, to make clear I had no extra cash to spare.”

Sutter’s brows rose. “Other than his needing more money, what did you talk about with him?”

Allie pondered for a moment. The call had come during one of her mini-breaks when she sat at her office desk. With half her mind on the evening gown she’d just finished sketching, and the details she debated adding, she hadn’t given Jimmy her full attention.

“He said he was homesick for San Francisco, was sorry he’d ever left and wanted to live here again. He asked if I still lived in the same house. The only reason I sent him any money at all was because I felt sorry for him. What did they do anyway?”

“Jimmy we’re not sure about yet, but for starters, your pal, Dave Barnett, is wanted by the Seattle police. There’s a warrant out for his arrest.”

Chapter Two

Allie’s mouth opened, and her brow puckered. “Please don’t refer to him as my pal. He’s nothing more than a voice on the phone.”

“Unlike your pal, Jimmy.”

Sutter seemed to enjoy the idea that Allie was hooked up with both men. She’d already denied any connection to this Dave Barnett person, which didn’t mean Sutter believed her. If he’d ever seen Jimmy, scrawny, unkempt, the very essence of a loser, he’d never make the accusation. She hoped Jimmy hadn’t gotten himself mixed up in something criminal.

“Is there a warrant out on Jimmy, too?” she asked.

“Not at the moment. But it doesn’t mean he’s in the clear.” Detective Thompson stepped back into the conversation. “As far as the authorities know, he’s never broken a law in Seattle. Not even a parking ticket, but then there’s no record of his ever having had a Washington state driver’s license. Same here in California. Let’s just say he’s a person of interest.”

Although Jimmy had led something of a troubled life, Allie couldn’t recall him doing anything to catch the attention of the SFPD. Possibly, once he’d moved up the coast, he’d slipped unobtrusively beneath the law-abiding line.

Allie shook her head. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

“Your name came up.” Sutter again.

“Mine?”

“Yeah. Lucky for us another fellow up in Seattle was let in on their plans to head to San Francisco. Jimmy mentioned some gal—you—who lived next door to his old boyhood home. The plan was to shack up with her for a while.”

“No way.” Allie gave her head a much more vigorous shake.

“Your pal Jimmy isn’t so much homesick as needing a safe place to hole up. Barnett, too. Especially Barnett. It’s pretty certain he’s on the lookout for an out-of-the-way spot where no one will think to find him. A place where he’d feel safe to hunker down for a while, a place where he can…party.”

His gaze strayed across the traffic lanes to the beach, virtually deserted at this time of day. “I’ll bet you don’t get too much action around here. There’s an APB out for them from Seattle to San Francisco. Jimmy may not be the hottest burner on the stove, but his pal, Barnett, is pretty wily.”

Wily
.

“Is he dangerous?”

“That’s our understanding.” Lt. Chase joined the conversation. “It’s why we put three pairs of men in eight-hour shifts on your street.”

“Three pairs? But I only saw…” A quick glance at Sutter silenced her. His glare said he didn’t appreciate her outing him on stakeout duty.

“We’ll need to make an adjustment,” Chase continued. “It will involve some inconvenience on your part, Ms. Nash, as well as your cooperation.”

Allie wondered what “some inconvenience” meant in police parlance. Certainly, nothing that would prompt her to sing in the shower.

“We’re going to have to move you out of the house for a short while.” Chase’s soothing tone probably aimed to forestall any arguments. “With any luck, it will only last for a few days, a week at the most, until Jimmy and Barnett are either captured out of state or they arrive here in the city. If necessary, we’ll put you up at a hotel. The city will pay for your room and meals.”

Allie shook her head. When she worked, she pulled her auburn hair back in a ponytail. Now, the strenuous shake was enough for the tip of it to swipe between her shoulder blades. “I’m not moving to a hotel. Why don’t you just reactivate the stakeout?”

“Unfortunately, it’s too late. When you alerted the safety patrol chairman, you raised his suspicions and blew our cover. He’ll be on the lookout for any strange cars parked overly long on the street. Especially at night. Very possibly, he’s already contacted other neighbors, who’ll also be on the alert.”

Allie fisted her hands and dug her nails into her palms, angry at herself for causing her own misery.

“Consider spending time with relatives or a close friend away from the area. It will make our jobs a lot easier. You can still keep important engagements. The officer in charge of your safety will be very circumspect. You’ll hardly notice him tailing you.” Chase cleared his throat. “A boyfriend coming around might add a complication. This operation must be kept strictly undercover.”

“You needn’t worry. A boyfriend isn’t the reason I can’t relocate at this time.” Like most women, she’d had her share of boyfriends, but none exciting enough to made her want to howl at the moon.

Chase glanced into the sewing room. “We understand you have a business. Couldn’t you put it on hold for a while?”

“I haven’t seen much activity around here, businesswise,” Sutter chimed in. “What do you make, anyway?”

“Custom bridal gowns, although I haven’t concentrated on those for the past two months.”

“See, no
problemo
.”

Allie glared at him.

“Are you familiar with Designorama?” She directed the question to Chase and Detective Thompson.

“I’m not.” Chase glanced at the other two detectives. Both shook their heads.

It didn’t surprise Allie that men who dealt with hardened criminals had neither an interest in or an awareness of fashion. Sutter’s and Thompson’s jacket probably flew off the rack at a local discount store.

“The
Chronicle
has run full page ads about it in the news section for the past three weeks. In a certain sense, Designorama is the West Coast equivalent of Project Runway…you know, the television show. It encompasses all the same important elements.”

A baffled look flitted across the faces of the three men.

“It’s a competition. Hopefuls trying to break into the fashion industry compete against each other.”

“You mean the kind of reality garbage they have on the tube these days.” Sutter’s brows did a downward swoop. His mouth compressed in a tight line and produced a dimple in his right cheek. It somewhat softened his harsh expression but hardly enough.

Allie bit down on her teeth. “Designorama is nothing like those shows. Not anything you’d expect from reality TV. I mean it is real. It’s had advertising exposure on local television, as well. It’s a serious fashion competition. Several local charities stand to gain from the proceeds.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Thompson said. “My wife watches something on TV about clothes, maybe the project thing.” He shrugged. “The nights she watches, I’m relegated to the basement where I have to fight my kids for control of a ten-year-old TV set.” He grimaced as if from a recent memory.

“The competition functions on the same principle.” She addressed Thompson, who at least had a clue some women cared about fashion. “I started with twenty-four others. We’re down to three men and five women. I’m one of the semi-finalists. I have only two weeks left to complete a couture wardrobe. I’ll need everything—the body forms, my two industrial sewing machines, bolts of fabric, accessories, my work table, clothing racks, not to mention the special track lighting I had installed in the ceilings—so I can continue to compete. These are probably the two most important weeks of my life. You have no idea what I’ve given up just to arrive at this point. Also, I gather my inspiration here.” She glanced out the window toward the ocean where waves rose in choppy swells.

The men stared at her. None appeared pleased or impressed.

“We can make this work.” Lt. Chase rubbed a hand over his jaw and addressed Detective Sutter. “Let’s consider going with your original suggestion, Ben, but now we’ll add Ms. Nash to the mix.”

Allie waited to hear what the “original suggestion” entailed. No one volunteered to expand on it.

“What do you mean?” Even before she heard it, she was prepared to reject any suggestion put forth by Sutter.

“We’ll place two detectives inside the house.” Chase looked beyond the cramped space of the front room. “Early on, before we settled on the stakeout, Detective Sutter made the suggestion of putting officers inside. Of course, his proposal came with the supposition you’d be vacating the premises. In the end, we decided to go with the stakeout. But now…”

Allie’s hands shot up, palms outward. They finally reached the nightmare Sutter had warned her about. Because she had spotted him and his partner on stakeout duty, the cops were penalizing her. At least Sutter was; his partner and the lieutenant seemed a tad more understanding.

“Can you just move detectives inside my house?”

“With your cooperation, we can set this up today.” Chase’s eyes bored into hers. “I’ll remind you, Ms. Nash, that your interference with police business necessitated this move. Barnett must be stopped. If he’s not taken into custody soon, we need to be in position to apprehend him here in San Francisco. We’re willing to allow you to remain in the house. You’ll be under twenty-four-hour police protection. I can’t say the same for any other women who might cross his path.”

Allie couldn’t think of a reasonable argument.

“The captain should go for the change when he finds out the stakeout has attracted attention, and she’s in contact with Rix and Barnett, especially, Barnett.” Detective Sutter smiled, producing the dimple again, obviously pleased his suggestion now had teeth.

Contact?

“I only spoke to them a couple times.”

“The point is, Ms. Nash, they’ll call again,” Chase said. “At least Barnett will. He’ll want to create a sense of familiarity between you and him. So when the men show up at your door, you’ll have no qualms about inviting them inside.”

Allie smothered a moan. “Well, he did promise to phone again. I think he was on a cell. It cut out a few times. He had a very cultured voice and spoke well. Are you sure he’s in trouble?”