Sandman (19 page)

“Sure.” He got out of the chair and turned toward Meagan. “I’ll be right back. Lock the door behind me.”

She nodded and followed them to the door.

Thomas waited until they got across the street to Shadowhawk’s black F150 truck before he asked, “Did you get anything more out of her?”

“Oh, yeah.” She filled him in on Meagan’s boss, the prince, Jerome Banks, and former boyfriend/stalker Brad Landis.

When she finished Thomas said, “I can top that.” Then he brought her up to speed on his day.

“Holy, crap, Batman! So,
you’re
telling me that Meagan’s stalker, and the Sandman are one and the same?”

“Unbelievable, huh?”

“Shit, this girl is a major creep magnet. Hell, her creeps trump all my exes combined, and I’ve dated some pretty crazy chicks.”

“You and me both.” Thomas blew out a breath. “I’m going to have to delve deeper into Meagan’s history and see what I can come up with. You go ahead and interview everyone at the salon tomorrow.”

Shadowhawk unlocked the truck’s door and opened it before she turned back. “What are we going to do with her?”

“Good question.” He looked up at the sky, then back at her. “I guess we’re on double duty till we catch this guy.”

“What about Cooper and James, have they come up with anything yet?”

“No, there’s been no sign of Jordan Roberts.”

“Do you think the wife tipped him off?”

“Hard to say. She talks a good game, says she finds the confines of marriage a little too
restrictive
.”

“The more I hear about this woman, the more I can’t
wait
to meet her.” Shadowhawk laughed.

He smiled. “She’s some piece of work, all right.” Then he turned serious. “Of course, I’ve seen women beaten to a bloody pulp go back to their husbands time and time again, so there’s no telling what some people will do.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” She started the engine. “Well, I should get going, it’s nine-thirty. I’m sure Maria’s getting a little anxious by now.”

“Tell her I’m sorry to keep you late—”

She interrupted him. “But until this case is over, it’s going to happen more often than not.”

“Pretty much.”

Shadowhawk drove off. Thomas walked back to the house and knocked. Meagan opened the door, but she was no longer smiling. He walked in and noticed she’d cleaned up and topped off his coffee.

She returned to the couch and drew her legs up tight. No longer playful, she’d reverted to trying to disappear. He wasn’t sure if she was uncomfortable with him or going through the memory crash. Either way he’d try to get her mind off her troubles.

He decided to start by asking harmless questions. They discussed movies, books, authors, and music. They had a lot in common, so the conversation flowed easily for the next couple of hours.

They fell into a debate about the reality of the scene in the movie
Swordfish,
in which the bus was lifted by the helicopter.

“It’s not possible!” Thomas enjoyed getting a rise out of her.

“Who cares, it’s entertaining. I don’t go to the movies for reality, I go to
escape
it!” She was sitting cross-legged again on the couch and leaning forward, her eyes sparkling with passion as her voice rose.

They were interrupted when the phone rang. They stared at it a moment before either moved. Meagan looked at Thomas. He nodded, then followed her over to the table. She lifted the phone, and he lifted the extension he’d set up next to it. Once he was ready, he nodded and she answered.

“Hey, gorgeous, sorry it’s so late. Were you still up?”

Thomas put the extension down and walked away. He grabbed his coffee cup and retreated to the kitchen. Meagan took the phone to her bedroom and closed the door. He felt weird. He was actually pissed at the guy for interrupting them, taking her away. Was this what it felt like to be jealous? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

***

Meagan was thankful that Drew called. She hadn’t talked to anyone she cared about regarding what was going on. She didn’t dare. Whether family or friend, they’d insist she stay with them. She couldn’t put anyone else in danger. After all, Lilah was dead because of her. She’d been avoiding Katy’s calls all day; Meagan was afraid she’d be able to detect something wrong by her voice.

She told Drew all that had happened since last they talked. She tried hard to hold back the tears, but she lost the battle in the end.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” Drew said. “I can’t believe everything you’ve been through. The record company wants us to start recording tomorrow. Let me see what I can do. Maybe under the circumstances they’ll give me a couple of days off. In the meantime, I’m glad you have someone there with you. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” His sympathetic voice made her cry even harder. She realized that she wished he were there.

“Okay,” she finally managed.

After Drew hung up, Meagan felt lost and abandoned. She set the phone on the nightstand, then blew her nose and wiped her eyes before returning to the living room. She sat back down on the couch.

“Was that your boyfriend?”

“Sort of,” she answered without looking up.

“Tell me about him. What’s his name?”

“Drew Jackson.”

Thomas laughed. “As in Andrew Jackson?”

Meagan scowled at him.

“How did you two meet?”

For the next hour he heard the story of Meagan and Drew. Her voice was animated in the telling, and when she was done, a smile came to her lips. For the second time that night he felt jealous. He wanted to be the one to put that smile on her face.

“So you haven’t known this guy all that long.” Relief washed over him.

“Well, no, not exactly.”

“I see, and does he feel the same about you? After all, he
is
a musician.” Thomas reminded himself to rein in the sarcasm.

“He’s not your typical musician.” Her words cut right back.

“And how do you know that? You’ve only had a few dates with him. That’s not long enough to set up a track record.”

“Because I know him!”

Thomas knew he was upsetting Meagan, but he couldn’t stop himself. “You do, huh? Let’s just recap, shall we? He lives somewhere up north, you don’t know where. His parents died in a car crash and he’s been on the road for the last three years. Yeah, you know him very well.” He sounded angry even to himself, he should quit while he’s behind.

“I mean, you’ve never met him. He’s gentle, giving and considerate.”

“Oh, so you mean he makes sure you have your orgasm first before he gets his rocks off?”
Dammit all to hell, I just said that out loud!

She jumped up, her eyes as wide as saucers. Her mouth opened and closed, then she turned on her heels.

He leapt at her and grabbed her wrist, “Wait! I’m sorry, Meagan, I didn’t mean that.
Please
don’t go.”

Her face turned three shades of scarlet before she jerked her hand back and stormed off to her bedroom. The door slammed.

Thomas scrubbed his hands down his face. What the fuck was wrong with him? He couldn’t
believe
he’d just said that. He never talked that way to a woman, yet he just did. He was out of control. What was it about this redhead that got him so worked up?

“Meagan, I’m so sorry. Really, I swear I’m not normally like this. I just haven’t had a lot of sleep for the past week. Please say you’ll forgive me.” He stood there in silence, waiting.

Finally the door swung open, and Meagan stomped out past him. She went straight to the cabinet at the end of the hall, opened it, grabbed some sheets and a blanket, then shoved them at him. Without a word she went back to the bedroom and slammed the door.

Thomas stared at the door a moment, wishing Meagan would open it again. After a while he gave up and walked back into the living room. He didn’t blame her; he deserved it. In fact, he even respected her for it. He dropped the bedding on the couch and went into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee. It was going to be a long night.

He was pulling the case files out of his bag when the phone rang. He waited until the ringing had stopped to make sure Meagan had answered, then he carefully hit the talk button on his end. He heard the low mechanical voice she had described. “Hel-lo Mea-gan, did you like my lit-tle gi-ft?You shoo-uld be mo-re care-ful when pic-king yoo-ur fri-ends.” Then the phone went dead.

Meagan flew out of the bedroom and ran smack dab into his chest. She wore a mask of fear. He wanted to put his arms around her; instead he laid his hands on her arms and gently pushed her away far enough so he could see her. All the color had drained from her face.

“That was him! Did you hear it?” She was breathless; her voice trembled.

“Yes. Come over here and sit down.” He set her in the chair, then called to check in on the trace.

He hung up and looked at her. “They couldn’t get it. Next time you’re going to have to talk to this guy. See if he’ll answer any questions, but more importantly, keep him on the line as long as you can.”

“He friggin’ terrifies me!”

“I know, but you have to try.”

Meagan stared at him a moment. “Okay.” She got up and left the room. He heard the bedroom door close behind her.

Thomas fell into the chair she’d just vacated and ran a hand through his hair.
What the hell is going on with me?

THIRTY-TWO

November 1, 1985

The woman dragged her son through the house by his hand.

“Mommy, you’re hurting me.” His frantic cry made her stop. She turned around and squatted in front of her son. “I’m sorry, baby, but we’ve got to get out of here before your daddy gets back!” She picked him up and ran toward the front door.

She hadn’t bothered to pack. She’d seen her chance and took it. When she’d woken up on the kitchen floor, the room was dark. The house was suspiciously quiet. She’d searched each room in case her husband was lurking somewhere.

It was twilight. The sun had already dipped behind the trees at the edge of their property. Their long shadows reached across the barren farmland where tumbleweeds danced in the breeze. The porch light was still on from the night before.

The woman raced around the car, kicking up dirt from the driveway along the way. The Chevy Impala’s rusty door complained loudly when she wrenched it open. Hastily, she deposited her son in the front seat and fastened his seatbelt. She ran to the other side, jumped in, then locked all the doors, climbing over her son in the process.

“Mommy, I’m scared.” His lower lip trembled.

“I know, honey, but everything’s going to be all right from now on. We’re going to live at Grandma’s house.” She spoke quickly while she searched the car. “You’ll love it there, she has chickens and ducks and even a pond. And everything is green, nothing like this dirt park your father calls a farm.” She looked in the back seat.

“Dammit!” She forgot her purse. She unlocked the door and started to get out.

“Mommy, don’t leave me!”

The woman stopped, turned around and took her four-year-old son’s face in her hands. “Honey, Mommy would never leave you, I love you. You’re the most important thing in the world to me. That’s why I’m taking you away from here. Do you understand?”

The little boy nodded, and his mother kissed his forehead.

“Now Mommy has to go get her purse. The car keys are in it. It will only take a second, baby, then we’ll get out of here, okay?”

He nodded and sniffled as he watched his mother disappear into the house.

The keys weren’t in her purse. Her husband must have hidden them. Sweat trickled down her face and her back as she searched every drawer in the kitchen. Her heart hammered in her chest. She ran to the mantle and dumped out every jar. She stripped the cushions off the couch and tossed them across the room in a frenzy.

***

His mother was taking forever. The little boy jiggled his legs to make her hurry. A thud to his right made him jump. He turned toward the window, where his father’s angry face glared at him. The boy screamed. His father jerked the door handle and tried to get it open. His bright red face got screwy; the veins in his neck and forehead bulged. His giant fist beat against the window. The boy leaned away as far as his seatbelt would allow.

“Open the goddamned door, you little brat,” he bellowed into the night. “Do you hear me?” He hit the glass so hard the boy was sure it would break. “Open.” Pound. “This!” Pound. “Door!” Pound. With each thud the window vibrated.

He’d never been so scared in his life. His body trembled. His father hit him when he did nothing wrong. What would his father do to him now that he was disobeying him?

The pounding abruptly stopped. His father backed away. The little boy breathed a sigh of relief. He watched his father stagger around the front of the car. He tripped and disappeared from sight.

“Fuck!” The boy heard his father’s muffled curse.

First one hand appeared on the hood, then the other. His father climbed up the front of the car and stood up. Blood dripped from his nose; he wiped it off with the back of his hand. His father staggered around the hood of the car to the other side. His mother’s door stood wide open! The boy tried to unbuckle his seatbelt, but his hands were shaking something fierce. His fingers couldn’t find the button. He had to reach that door before his father.

***

The woman stopped, held her breath and listened. And heard her son’s screams.

“No!” She raced toward the front of the house and paused in the open doorway, gasping for breath. Her husband was bent down in the driver’s side of the car yanking on her son’s arms. His little body was still secured by his safety belt.

The woman took a running leap onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Leave him alone, you bastard!”

The man jerked back from the car and tried to buck her off.

“Get off me, you bitch!”

He swung around the yard, but she held on tight as if she were in a rodeo.

“I’m gonna kill you!” her husband bellowed.