Power of the Raven (6 page)

“So he’s gone again,” she said softly, and leaned back in her seat.

“Paul, did you get a look at the plates?”

“I only got a partial, but I’m running the few numbers I’ve got against Harrington,” he said, then, after a beat, continued. “Looks like that plate might belong on his Ford pickup. Harrington doesn’t own a van.”

“Harrington had a blue pickup in his driveway,” Gene said. “But something doesn’t make sense here. Why would Harrington bother to switch the plates onto that van? The van didn’t point directly to him, but the plate does.”

“It doesn’t make any sense to me, either,” Paul said.

“I guess I might as well buy you lunch,” Lori said with a shaky smile. “You, too, Paul.”

“Not yet. We need to report this to the police. Let’s head over to the station. We’ll back up your statement, Lori,” Paul said.

“Afterward, we eat,” Lori said. “You guys have been terrific.”

“I’ll have to pass on that lunch invitation,” Paul said. “I’ve got to meet a client as soon as we’re done at the station.”

“Then it’ll be just you and me, Gene,” she said.

“Works for me,” he said, and smiled.

Chapter Six

They were seated inside a small office at the police station, preparing to sign their statements. Sergeant Chavez, waiting with them for the clerk to reappear, offered them coffee.

“Isn’t there any way you can arrest Harrington?” Lori asked, accepting the offered foam cup.

“Not on the basis of what you’ve given us,” Chavez said. “There weren’t any fingerprints on that screwdriver, either. Face it, Ms. Baker. You still haven’t been able to make a positive ID. One of our officers stopped by to interview Harrington, but no one was at home. We’ll keep trying.”

“It’s
got
to be him. He’s the only person I’ve had a problem with at the DMV. I grew up in this community, and I’ve lived a very quiet life. Most of the time if I’m not on the job, I’m working on my home. It’s a fixer-upper.”

“What about old boyfriends?” Paul said.

“I date on occasion, but not regularly. It’s been at least six months since I went out on a date,” she said. “That’s why I keep saying that it has to be Bud Harrington. His body type and clothing fit, too.”

“That’s not conclusive evidence, Ms. Baker,” Chavez said.

“But the absence of any other possibility—” she said.

“Is still not evidence,” Chavez said, finishing her thought. “We spoke to the suspect after your first complaint and you know how that came out. He claimed he was the injured party.”

Lori took a sip of the hot, bitter coffee, then stood and began to pace. “I’m not sure what else I can do. This isn’t going to just go away.”

“You need to seriously consider taking my advice. Get out of town for a while,” Chavez said. “Whoever’s after you is getting bolder, and that’s not a good sign.”

Just then a clerk came into the room and placed the typed statements before Sergeant Chavez.

Chavez handed them their statements. “Read them over carefully and then sign.”

When they were done, Chavez took the forms. “I’ll follow up on this and take it as far as I can,” he told Lori. “Just don’t expect miracles. You’ve given me very little evidence to go on.”

“There’s the question of how the license plate that belongs on Harrington’s pickup got on that van,” Paul said. “Is there any way you can stake out Harrington’s home?”

Chavez shook his head. “We don’t have the manpower right now. No one’s life is in immediate danger, so it’s not going to be given a high priority,” Chavez said. “I wish things were different, but they are what they are.”

As Paul, Gene and Lori left the building and walked out into the parking lot, Paul spoke. “I have to get on a flight to D.C. tonight and meet with my former boss. The Marshals Service has requested that I review some new evidence that’s turned up on my last case.”

“Do they have a lead on who ordered the hit on the federal judge?” Gene asked.

“I’m not sure. I wasn’t given any details on the phone. I’ll know more when I meet with my district marshal,” he said. “I’ll probably be gone for a day, maybe two, so try to stay out of trouble.”

“We’ll do our best to manage without you,” Gene said in a labored voice, then flashed Paul a teasing grin.

“Do me a favor. Just don’t do anything stupid,” Paul growled.

After Paul left, Gene and Lori walked out to Gene’s pickup. “Do you want me to drive you back to your car, or straight to work?” Gene asked.

“I asked for the afternoon off,” she said. “What I’d really like to do now is drive by Bud’s place.”

“Sure. I was going to take another pass by there again anyway. Maybe Harrington’s home now.”

“If he’s there, we can both talk to him.”

“No way,” Gene said.

“I can’t keep running from him forever, Gene. Better that I should face him when I’ve got someone beside me than run into him when I’m alone.”

For several long moments Gene considered what she’d said, then finally spoke after they’d climbed into his pickup. “Here’s my deal. I’ll take you there and stand by you if you decide you want to confront him—but if there’s trouble, I want you to run back to the truck, lock yourself in and call the cops.”

“I can’t just leave if you—”

“My way or no way,” he interrupted. “Your choice.” He placed the key in the ignition but didn’t start the engine.

She wanted to argue, but knew from the set of his jaw that his mind was made up. “Okay. I agree to your terms.”

He got under way shortly thereafter. “What did you tell them at work?”

“The truth, though I was a little worried about doing that. I didn’t want them to think I posed a danger to the others, and frighten everyone for no reason.”

“How do you like working there?”

“It’s a good job and I get a decent salary, but it’s not what I plan to do the rest of my life.”

“What kind of work would you do if you had complete freedom of choice?”

“I’m not sure. That’s why I’m still looking around, exploring. All I’m one hundred percent sure about is that once I find the right place for myself, I’ll know it.”

“What is it that you’d like to find in a job—excitement, maybe?”

“It wouldn’t exclude excitement, but it goes beyond that. What I’m really looking for is work that’ll allow me to contribute something worthwhile, maybe the kind of job where I can make a difference in my own way. I’d like to know I’m doing more with my life than just using up oxygen and getting by.”

“You want to know that you’re working toward something, not just working. That’s exactly the way I feel about my ranch,” he said with a nod. “You’ll find what’s right for you, too, if you keep looking and refuse to give up.”

As their eyes met, she felt a delicious prickle of awareness. More than anything, she wanted to get to know him better, to see the man beyond the yummy package.

Yet, although it was tempting to lower her guard, in the past, that kind of trust had led her straight to heartbreak and disappointment. Those memories were powerful enough to urge her to pull back.

Fifteen minutes later, they drove slowly past Bud Harrington’s house. The newspapers and mail Gene had seen before were still on the porch. In the daylight, Gene could see that a layer of dust covered the pickup, windows included.

“Someone screwed the license plate back on the truck,” he said, calling her attention to it.

“Maybe it’s not the same plate,” she said. “After all, Paul only saw the letters and wasn’t totally sure about the numbers.”

Gene stopped just behind the tailgate of the pickup. “There’s no dust on the plate, unlike the truck. How else could that happen except by taking off the plate, then putting it back on?”

“But why on earth would Bud go through all that trouble? Does he think he can somehow weasel out of this by using his own plates on the wrong vehicle? Or is someone messing with
his
mind?”

“
And
yours,” Gene said. “All good questions, and if he’s back, why not pick up the mail and those newspapers, too? It could very well be that someone else is responsible. Keep in mind that, as near as we can tell, Harrington doesn’t own a van, and the maroon one we saw didn’t look like a rental. Rental vans are usually white—or black.”

“So where does that leave us?” she asked.

“Right where we started. Nowhere.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess, Gene, but I’m glad you’re here.”

He gave her a slow smile. “I’ve got no regrets. I happen to like you.”

She bit her bottom lip and smiled. “I don’t care if that’s just a line. You make it sound good.”

He laughed. “It’s no line, sweetheart. You’re unpredictable and a bundle of trouble, but you’ve also got more than your share of courage and determination. You don’t back down, even when you should.”

She had started to answer when her phone rang. It was Miranda. “What’s wrong?” she asked immediately.

“We’re really shorthanded here, and Jerry wanted me to ask you if there’s any way you can come back in this afternoon. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment, so I’ve got to leave here soon, and we’ve got a real backlog,” she said. “Are you still at the station?”

“No, I’m not, but tell me something. Does everyone know what happened?” Lori asked.

“Yeah, Jerry told Harvey, then us to keep an eye out for anyone acting strangely,” she said. “Right now Jerry’s working your window, but he has a report to finish for Santa Fe this afternoon, so he’s pretty tense.”

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” she said, and hung up. At least there was a measure of job security knowing she was needed. “I have to get back to work ASAP. Can you take me to my car?”

“Sure. We’re just a few minutes from the restaurant now,” Gene said. “You can drive on to work from there and I’ll tail you until you arrive just to make sure there are no more surprises.”

“I really appreciate that, but I’m starting to feel guilty. You’ve been spending all your time with me, and I’m sure you’ve got responsibilities of your own you’ve been neglecting because of that.”

“Do you trust me?”

The quick, blunt question took her by surprise. “Of course. You’ve put your own safety on the line because of me. Why on earth wouldn’t I trust you?”

“All right, then,” he said with an approving nod. “You remember Officer Chavez suggested you get away from home for a while?”

“Yeah, but—”

He held up one hand. “I happen to think he’s right and I’ve got an idea. You get off work at five?” he asked.

“Thereabouts. More like five-fifteen or so.”

“Okay. I’m going to be waiting outside when you get off work, but don’t look for me. I’ll hang back and follow you home. Then I want you to pack up a few things and come with me.”

“Where to?”

“I’m staying at my brother’s place. It’s a small apartment, but you can have the bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She shook her head slowly. “You’ve been really terrific, but I can’t keep doing this to you. It’s just not fair.”

“I’m volunteering, so it’s fair,” he said with an easy smile. “You’ve met Paul, who’s in law enforcement, or at least was. I’ve also got two more brothers who are federal agents, and then there’s Preston, whose apartment we’ll be using. He’s a detective with the Hartley Police Department. If at any time you think I’ve said or done anything that’s out of line, you can pick one or two of them to come arrest me.”

She laughed, then, growing serious, answered, “What you’re offering me is very tempting, but standing on my own two feet is also important to me.”

“There are some fights that can’t be won alone, Lori. Think about my offer. This really isn’t a good time for a solo act.”

After Gene dropped her off by her car, she drove directly to work. She wasn’t sure what to do. As a kid she’d learned the hard way to rely only on herself, especially after her parents’ divorce. The bitterness between them had left her caught up in the middle. She’d learned to look only to herself for help since no one else was there for her. Those lessons had come at a high price and explained at least partially why close relationships made her uncomfortable. She’d worked hard to become independent, but, now, this new situation was forcing her hand.

Lori entered the DMV building, nodded to Harvey, the security guard, then walked across the room to her window, where Jerry now sat.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said. “Before you get started, I’d like to have a word with you. Come to my office, please.”

Lori followed the tall, shaved-headed man in his mid-fifties down the hall and into his small office.

“Take a seat,” Jerry said, then shut the door behind them. “I’ve heard about your continuing problem with Mr. Harrington. I’ve already alerted security, but I need to know if he may pose a danger to anyone else in this office.”

“No, he won’t. He’s focused on me, but I should tell you that I have no proof my stalker really is Bud Harrington,” she said.

Jerry leaned back in his chair. “This office has had problems with Harrington before, especially during a time when he was selling off a car collection and had to conduct business here frequently. On the surface, he’s a respectable jewelry maker, the owner of Harrington Designs, but the guy’s nuts. He gave one of our former clerks a hard time by harassing her at her window, but it never went any further than that. Security escorted him out.”

“I hadn’t heard about that.”

“I told the police all about it when they called earlier. It happened before your time here. Ann King, a former employee, had problems with him. It was nothing more than off-color remarks, but the second time, Steve Farmer was working the window next to hers and overheard him. He waved over a security guard, who threatened to hold him for the police. There were no more problems after that.”

“Then it looks like Harrington’s behavior went down a notch or two,” she said, and updated him.

“So he’s learned to disguise his identity,” Jerry said slowly. “Do you have any doubt that it’s Harrington?”

“Not in my own mind, but I also have no proof, so the police can’t arrest him.”

Jerry considered it silently, steepling his fingers and staring down at his hands, deep in thought. “I want you to keep me informed,” he said, then stood. “You know I’m about to go on vacation, but I can switch around the dates if there’s a chance you’re going to need a leave of absence.”