Punish the Deed (21 page)

Thirty-Eight

Even though there was a bit of a chill in the air, Lucinda and Jake chose to eat their dinner on the deck of the restaurant. It was quieter and easier to converse outside.

“So, now that we’ve pretty much eliminated every reasonable suspect, what now?” Lucinda asked.

“No other suspects at all?” Jake said.

“You checked up with the techs working your case in D.C., right?”

“Yes I did. Nothing from forensics or research points to anyone viable. We’ve got a couple of people that might have possibly committed the crime but none of them really add up.”

“Same thing here. I won’t say all of their alibis are iron-clad but I really don’t seriously think any one of them is the perpetrator. If they were available for Shari Fleming’s murder, they weren’t available for one of the others.”

“What about the others? Anyone standing out in those jurisdictions?”

“I talked to Ted. He is in contact with the investigators in all the identified jurisdictions on a daily basis, at the very least. Not one of them has a suspect. Some of them are following up leads or hot-line tips but they all sound weak at this point. Ted said they’re hoping we’ll find something,” Lucinda said.

“Then we need to explore the connection between the notes at the crime scenes and the notes left on your car.”

“I still don’t think they are connected, Jake. It doesn’t make sense to me,” Lucinda objected.

“But it’s all we’ve got.”

“That’s pretty pathetic, then. I guess we do need to identify my little message leaver just to get that out of the way.”

“Your ‘little message leaver’? Lucinda, those notes were threatening. How can you be so cavalier about them?”

“Jake, I’ve seen a lot worse. I’ve gotten direct, graphic threats. These are lame in comparison.”

“You still shouldn’t trivialize them.”

Lucinda shrugged.

“You are exasperating,” Jake said.

“It’s just a gender thing, Jake. Men are bad drivers. Women are exasperating. It’s a trade-off.”

Jake shook his head and chuckled. “I’m not sure which trait is more dangerous. Tell you what, I’d like to continue this discussion over a drink but my teeth are starting to chatter out here. There’s a nice bar in my hotel. How ’bout we go back there?”

“Why not?” Lucinda said.

When they reached the entrance to the hotel bar, Jake rested the palm of his hand in Lucinda’s back and guided her to a booth back in a corner. His touch tingled at the base of her spine and sent a burst of electric impulse through her limbs. She was both disappointed and relieved when he removed his hand as they arrived at their destination and slid into their seats.

Lucinda ordered a glass of merlot and Jake a bottle of Sam Adams. At first, they shared amusing stories from the lives in law enforcement. Then Jake switched to funny anecdotes from childhood. Without warning, the conversation turned serious and intense. Lucinda described the night her parents died and they talked about their shared fears and confusion over the childhood loss of their parents.

Lucinda nursed her solitary glass of wine for the entire two and a half hours. Jake, on the other hand, was working on his fifth beer. When Lucinda said it was time for her to head home, Jake said, “Are you sure it’s safe for you to drive?”

“Yes, Jake, I’ve only had one glass of wine all night.”

“Oh,” he said as he scratched a spot on his face for no reason. “It still might not be safe. You can stay in my room. There are two beds. Honest.”

Lucinda sighed, her shoulders moving up and down with her breath. “No, Jake. Not while we’re working this case.”

“I’m serious about the two beds.”

“I know. I just have trust issues.”

“You don’t trust me?” The forlorn tone of Jake’s voice struck Lucinda as pretty pathetic, laughable and endearing.

“No, Jake. I don’t trust me,” Lucinda said.

“You don’t trust you? Oh, okay, I get it. And it only took one glass of wine to get you to that point?”

Lucinda stood, resting her palms on the table. “No, Jake, the wine wasn’t even necessary.”

“Let me walk you to your car.”

“No, that’s not necessary. In fact, it’s not even wise.”

“That trust thing?”

“Yeah. See you in the morning, Special Agent Lovett,” she said as she spun on her heel and strode out of the bar.

Thirty-Nine

The next morning, Lucinda picked up the phone in her apartment and punched in Jake’s cell number. When he answered, she said, “Awake and ready?”

“Yep.”

“Alrighty then, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Not seven and a half?”

“Nah. This morning I plan to dawdle on the way to the car.”

When she exited the elevator in the garage, she stood still for a moment as usual, listening, looking, appraising the area. With the sun still low in the sky, the lighting was dim. The air she breathed was a faintly nauseating blend of gas fumes and carbon monoxide. From different corners of the garage, she heard the sounds of other residents, jingling keys, beeping locks, slamming car doors. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Two parking spaces away from her car, she heard a foot hit the concrete mere inches from where she stood. She started to turn in the direction of the sound but before she’d made any significant movement, she felt the cold metal circle of a gun barrel pressing hard into her neck just behind her ear. Adrenaline surged, bringing a tremble to her core, a tightness in her throat and a flush to her face. Her mind moved fast, seeking options.

“Drop the keys,” a woman’s voice ordered.

From the other side of the garage, Lucinda heard running footsteps and hoped whoever was fleeing the scene understood the urgency and would call 9-1-1 or at least tell the security guard at the parking-lot entrance that something was amiss.

Without a word in response to the command, Lucinda clutched her keys even tighter. The hard edges of the metal keys pressed deep into her palm. She prepared to spin fast and jab her attacker in the eye. But the woman with the gun was a heartbeat ahead of her. Lucinda felt something hard slam into the small of her back, driving her forward. Sharp spikes of pain drove into her head as her face hit the trunk of someone’s sedan.

“Don’t try any crap on me. Ted taught me all of those self-defense tricks. Drop the damn keys.”

Ted? Ellen? No. It couldn’t be. But who else?
“Ellen?” Lucinda asked. She felt the gun barrel jab hard and sharp and then press deeper into her flesh.

“Drop the damn keys now.”

Lucinda released her grip, allowing the keys to hit the trunk of the car and jangle as they tumbled down, clattering on the concrete. “Ellen?” Lucinda asked again.

“Shut up! Lace the fingers of your hands behind your head.”

Lucinda hesitated.

“Now! Damn it!” Ellen said.

Lucinda felt the barrel pull away from her neck. Before she could register relief, she felt the impact of the butt of the gun just behind her temple. Her head spun in a familiar but uncomfortable sensation of vertigo. She felt both her real and artificial eye rattle around in their sockets.
Will my eye fall out?
Then the pain registered. Pounding, throbbing, solid pain mixed with spikes of sharpness that pierced her skull.
Am I bleeding?

She put her hands behind her head and then said, “Shit, Ellen, that hurt like hell. Just what the hell is your problem?”

“Oh, like you don’t know. Give me a break.” Ellen grabbed one of Lucinda’s arms and twisted it down.

Lucinda sensed the cold edge of metal encircle one wrist, listened to the clicking snap of a locking cuff. Then she felt a jerk on her other arm and heard the lock connected on the other wrist. She was effectively constrained
. I still have my feet
, she thought. “Ellen, I swear to God, I do not know what is going on here. I do not know why you are angry with me.”

“You know what’s going on. You just don’t think
I
know.” Ellen’s arm reached from behind Lucinda and snaked around the flap of her jacket. Ellen’s fingers flipped the snap on Lucinda’s holster and slid out her weapon. Lucinda listened, thinking she’d hear her gun hit the ground, but when she heard nothing she knew Ellen had kept it.
The risk to my personal safety has now doubled
.

“You’ve been trying to steal my husband for quite some time and I am not going to allow that anymore. I tried to warn you to back off but you wouldn’t listen. Now,” she barked, jerking on the cuffs, pulling Lucinda off of the trunk, “on your knees.”

Doubled in half at the waist, Lucinda stiffened her knees. “Ellen, what warnings are you talking about?”

“The notes I left for you. Now, shut up and get down on your knees.”

Lucinda felt a downward tug on her cuffs at the same time a foot kicked the soft spot in the back of her leg. She hit the hard pavement and felt the jarring in her kneecaps on impact. She felt chunks of dirt and debris shred her pantyhose as it embedded in her skin.

“Ellen, you’re not really going to shoot me, are you?”

“Shut up so I can pull the trigger.”

“Ellen, you shoot me and you are going to jail. Think about what will happen to your children, if you kill me.”

“You should have thought about those innocent kids before you started messing with another woman’s husband. I tried and tried to warn you but you paid no attention to my notes. All I wanted you to do was leave my husband alone. That’s all.”

“Ellen, what notes?”

“The ones I left on your car. I know you got them. I watched you read them.”

“Ellen, believe me, I didn’t know those notes were from you. You should’ve signed them.” Lucinda heard surreptitious shuffling sounds in the distance. She suspected that a team was getting into place. She only hoped the noise was subtle enough not to alarm Ellen and that she could stall her until they made their move.

“You should’ve known.”

“Ellen, you never mentioned your husband in those notes.”

“Well, not in so many words, but I thought the message was pretty clear.”

“Ellen, it wasn’t. My partner was convinced they were from the serial killer we’re hunting.”

“Ted, said that?”

“No, Ellen, Ted is not my partner in this investigation. I’m working with a guy from the FBI.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true, Ellen.”

“Shut up. I can’t focus when you run your mouth.”

A male voice shouted, “Drop the gun. Drop the gun or we’ll shoot.”

Ellen spun around, waving the gun in the air.

The second that Lucinda felt the pressure of the barrel pull away from her head, she lashed out her legs. They connected with Ellen’s calves, knocking her to the ground. The force of impact loosened Ellen’s grip on the handgun and sent it skittering across the floor. A bullet fired at Ellen’s head missed by a breath and plowed into the concrete wall.

Lying with her face pressed against the oil-stained floor, Lucinda shouted, “She’s got another gun!”

An officer grunted then said, “We’ve got it, Lieutenant.”

A pair of hands slid under Lucinda’s arms and lifted her up. Then the officer unlocked her cuffs. Lucinda kneeled down beside Ellen who stared at the ceiling with a dazed expression. Lucinda slipped a hand under her head and felt blood. “Was she shot?” she asked.

“No, Lieutenant. I had a good bead on her but when you knocked her down, the bullet sailed right over her head and hit the wall over there,” an officer said as he pointed. “You ruined my batting average.”

“Be glad I did. This woman is the wife of a police officer. You don’t want her death on your hands. Has someone called for an ambulance?”

Another voice shouted, “It’s on the way, Lieutenant. Should be here in two minutes or less.”

Lucinda’s cell phone rang. It was Jake. “Hey where are you?” he asked.

“I’m still in the parking garage.”

“That’s some serious dawdling.”

“I guess you could call it that,” Lucinda shouted as the siren of the approaching emergency vehicle threatened to drown her out.

“What the hell is that, Lucinda? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Somebody tried to shoot me and failed. I’ll tell you all about it as soon as I can get out of here.”

“
What?
”

“And, oh yeah, Jake. The notes on my car? Forget them as a lead. Found out where they came from this morning.”

“What? How do you know they’re not connected? I need to get over there right away. Can you send a patrol to pick me up or should I call a cab?”

“Everything’s under control here, Jake.”

“I believe you, Lucinda. But I can’t just wait here for you to show up. I need to come there.”

“Hey, Jake, relax. Have another cup of coffee. Read the paper.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” Lucinda asked.

Jake sighed. “You sending a patrol car?”

She thought about arguing but decided it would be a waste of time. It seemed obvious that he would not relent. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll have one in front of the hotel in a few minutes.”