Swingin' in the Rain (21 page)

  “What? Blue Boots? No. She, uh, didn’t say anything else?”

  “Maybe a few things, but nothing that sounded important. I was just coming down to get some coffee. Alex and I’ll stay around, in case she wakes up again.”

  Rockland stared at Jakes, then pointed his finger.

  “If she identifies the guy who assaulted her you better let me know.”

  “Well sure, Sam,” Jakes said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Remember,” Rockland said, “you’re not carrying a badge, anymore.”

  “That’s just temporary. I’ll be back on duty soon.”

  “Well until then, stay out of my way.”

  Jakes spread his arms. “Am I in your way?”

  “Just remember.”

  As Rockland started to walk away Jakes asked, “What about the Randy Moore murder? Any progress?”

  Rockland pointed his finger at Jakes again and said, “Stay away from that case, and tell your girlfriend to stay away, too.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who gave her access to his house.”

  “Yeah, and that was a mistake. Believe me, I won’t make another one.”

  “Hey Sam,” Jakes said, “we never plan to make mistakes . . . that’s why they call them mistakes.”

  Rockland looked like he wanted to say something else, but in the end he just turned and walked away . . .

  “I think I shook him with the comment about blue boots.”

  “What do you think he’ll do?”

  “Who knows?”

  “What do you want him to do?”

  Jakes didn’t answer.

  “Wait a minute,” she said. “You want him to send turquoise boots after you, don’t you?”

  “No,” he said, “not me, or you.”

  “You want him to send him after Patti,” I said.  “You think he’ll do that here, in the hospital?”

  Jakes looked around. We were still standing in front of Patti’s room. “Let’s find a lounge where we can talk,” he said. “I found out some things I want to tell you about.”

  He took me by the elbow.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  We found a small lounge with a door we could close. There was a window, though, and we could still see down the hall towards Patti’s room.

  “What did you find out?”

  “I called in some favors at headquarters,” he said, “had somebody do an in-depth computer search for me.”

  “You gonna get into more trouble for that?”

  “Could be, but it’ll be worth it.”

  “What did you research?”

  “Blue boots,” he said. “Or, to be more exact, boots with turquoise tips. Do you know that when an arrest is made they put everything into the computer? And they’ve gone back years and done the same thing with old arrests.”

  I felt my eyes widen. “You found him,” I said. “You found the guy with the turquoise boots.”

  “I did.”

  “Who is he?”

  “His name is Vincent Carver,” Jakes said. “He’s got a long sheet, everything from stealing cars to assault.”

  “Has he been in jail?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think he’s got a guardian angel.”

  I stared at him, then said, “Rockland?”

  “That’s my bet,” Jakes said. “Rockland’s name shows up on several reports as the arresting officer. As I said, Carver’s never done time, and eventually the arrests stopped.”

  “So you think Rockland’s been . . . what? Protecting him?”

  “And maybe using him,” Jakes said. “As a C.I., in the beginning, but maybe the relationship developed.”

  “A C.I.?”

  “Confidential Informant,” Jakes said. “Lots of cops  have them. Criminals they protect in exchange for information.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Um, do you have C.I.’s?”

  “I’ve used them in the past, yeah,” he said. “But I’ve never used one to kill people.”

  “So you think Rockland had Carver kill Randy, and try to kill Patti today?”

  “Patti, yes,” Jakes said. “I think that’s obvious. But I can’t prove a thing about Randy, yet. So far all we know is that they’ve been in the same room together.”

  “But with Carver taking secret pictures of them both,” I said, “we’re back to blackmail.”

  “Patti must know something,” Jakes said. “That’s why she was hiding, and that’s why Carver tried to kill her.”

  “I have a question,” I said.

  “What is it?”

  “Since I can identify the guy who attacked Patti as the same guy who was on Mulholland, doesn’t that mean I’m a direct threat to Rockland? It does, right?”

  He stared at me and said, “Yes, it does.” He put his arm around me. “That’s why you need to stay put. Do you understand? You’re in danger. Big time.”

  “What should I do? Is Sarah safe?”

  “She’s at school now, right?”

  “Yes. And I have Tonja getting her when she’s out. She’ll be at her house.”

  “Then she’s fine. I’m thinking about what to do with you. I want to go back and find the neighbor who yelled out.”

  “What’s the difference? I can identify Carver.”

  “Yeah, but maybe she can identify the car.”

  “You don’t have an address for him from those arrest reports?”

  “Outdated addresses, yes.”

  “Are you going to go and look for him?”

  “I should,” he said, ”but I don’t want to leave you alone. And I don’t want to leave Patti unprotected.”

  “Well,” I said, “I have a solution.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Take me with you. I have to get my car from there, anyway.”

  “I could do that,” he said, “but how does that solve the problem of Patti? Keeping her alive until she can talk.”

  “Are you sure Rockland will send Carver after her?” I asked.

  “Rockland’s a careful man. He wouldn’t want anyone else to know what he was up to. I think Carver’s the only one he’d use.”

  “Then we have to wait here for him to try.”

  “Unless we can catch him before he does,” Jakes said. “If someone saw the license plate of the car—“

  “What about Harry Slattery?” I asked. “You were going to use him to protect me. What about using him to protect Patti?”

  He grabbed me by the shoulders and said, “You’re a genius.”

  “I know that.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Jakes made a call on his cell and Harry Slattery was in the hospital within half an hour.

  “Harry, this is Alex.”

  “Ah,” Slattery said, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  He shook my hand. For a big brute of a man he had a gentle handshake—or maybe it was just with me. He turned his black eyes toward Patti and his heavy black brows knitted. “That’s her, huh?”

  “That’s her,” Jakes said. “All you’ve got to do is help the doctors keep her alive. Understand?”

  “Yeah, sure, Jakes,” Slattery said. “You don’t want me to let anybody in who might kill her. Am I lookin’ for anybody in particular?”

  “Yeah,” Jakes said. “Fella named Vincent Carver.”

  “What’s he look like?”

  Jakes nodded to me.

  “That’s a face I’ll never forget,” I said. “Blondish, gray hair and light eyes. He’s tall, kind of sad looking and he has a hawk nose. Oh and he always wears boots with turquoise tips.”

  “Turquoise?”

  “Right.”

  “He the one who put her there?” Slattery asked, indicating Patti.

  “That’s right,” Jakes said, “and he may come back to finish the job if I can’t find him first.”

  “And what about Alex?” Slattery asked, “Is she gonna be here?”

  “She’ll be with me,” Jakes said. “Keepin’ her safe is my job. You’ve only got one thing to do.”

  “Keep that lady from gettin’ killed,” Slattery said.

  “Right.”

  “Got it.”

  “You got your cell?” Jakes asked.

  “Yeah, and your number’s in it.”

  “Ditto,” Jakes said. “Okay, I’ll keep in touch.”

  “Don’t worry about your friend,” Slattery said to me. “I’ve got this.”

  I put my hand on his arm and said, “Thank you.”

  When he smiled the blackness of his beard made his teeth look so white.

  Jakes grabbed my arm and said, “Come on.”

  As we drove he said, “Do you remember the general direction that the lady’s voice came from?”

  “If I had to guess I’d say within a house or two from the townhouse, but like I mentioned before I was kind of busy. Sorry, it’s hard to say for sure.”

  “She had to be able to have seen you from inside her house. So it had to be fairly close.”

  “Unless she was walking a dog, or getting her mail, or something. But I don’t remember seeing anybody on the street when I drove up.” I turned to him. “Hey, wouldn’t your department be doing this canvas already?”

  “Somehow I don’t think Rockland put in that call. He doesn’t want anybody to find Carver.”

  Jakes parked in front of Kathy’s parents’ townhouse.

  “This is a long block,” I said. “It’s going to take some time.”

  “Then we better get started.”

  I put my hand on his arm to keep him from getting out of the car. “Why don’t we split up?”

  “You’re not a cop.”

  “Why do I have to be a cop to ask questions?” I said. “Besides, you don’t have a badge to flash, either.” He sighed. “You’re right, but I don’t want you to be alone.”

  “It’s just a few houses. I’ll have my cell with me.”

  He mulled this over for a few seconds.

  “No. I don’t want you going house to house alone. Besides it’ll be faster if you’re there for the woman to recognize you. If she saw you and Patti being attacked she might have seen his car, too. As for the other neighbors, we’ll try to ask as few questions as possible. Do they know what happened? And did they see a car. If they did, then we’ll ask for a description, or even a plate.”

  “And if they want to know why we’re asking?”

  “We’ll just say we’re with the department. We won’t say which one. Let’s go.” And we got out of the car.

  Jakes wanted us to start across the street, because somebody had to have been looking out their window. Anybody looking out the window on the same side of the block wouldn’t have been able to see the front of the townhouse.

  My man is so smart.

  The neighborhood was an interesting blend of townhouses from the 1940’s and the old Spanish white stucco, red-tile roofed houses that were built in the 1920’s. There were also a few smaller houses built in the   50’s.

  We went to three separate townhouses first. The people we approached were all about 30 to 50 years old and not very willing to speak with us. They seemed wary about getting involved. From what I could tell, and Jakes concurred, they hadn’t seen anything anyway.

  The fourth person lived in an older, sort of rundown house circa 1950. He was a sweet older man of about 70 who recognized me. He invited us to come in for coffee. I signed an autograph for him and convinced him to answer our questions at the door. He was a fan, but he hadn’t seen anything.

  The fifth person lived in one of those cute Spanish bungalows. We walked under an archway heavy with blooming bougainvillea and onto a porch with two wicker rocking chairs and a small table. I rang the doorbell and an elderly woman cautiously peeked out the window of the front door. She took one look at me and her eyes got big. She put her wrinkled hands in front of her face and for a moment I thought she wasn’t going to help. We heard some locks click and then she quickly opened the door. Before I knew what was happening she wrapped her thin arms around me and pulled me close to her. She was shaking and crying.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” she said.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  We both entered the woman’s home. She looked to be about 75 years old and had gorgeous blue gray hair swept up in a French twist. Her skin was translucent and even though she had fine lines and wrinkles on her face and neck she was beautiful. She was so distraught I put my arms around her this time and held her.

  “You’re alright! I was so worried. How’s the other girl?” she asked as she pulled out of our embrace.

  “She’s out of surgery and looks like she’s going to be okay.” I sort of told her the truth. I was hoping it was the truth, anyway. “I’m so grateful to you! You saved my life.” Now we were both crying. “My name is Alexis Peterson and this is Frank Jakes.”

  “I’m Laureen Lester. Oh, thank goodness you’re okay. I’ve been waiting for the police to come and question me about that horrible, horrible man. Please sit down and let me make us some tea. Or would you prefer coffee?”

  I looked to Jakes.

  “Coffee would be great, Ms. Lester—“ Jakes started, but she cut him off.

  “Oh, dear, just call me Lulu,” she said. “All my friends do. Please. Sit down and make yourselves at home. I won’t be but a minute. And she went off towards the kitchen.

  Lulu Lester? It had a nice ring to it. Jakes and I looked around her home. It was beautifully furnished in the Deco Era. A gorgeous matching sofa and chair covered in what looked like authentic Maroon mohair with curved backs and arms and highly polished ornately carved dark wood trim. The walls were hung with beveled mirrors with bright cockatiels and tropical leaves in the center. There was a beautiful white baby grand piano in the corner of the room topped with framed black and white photos from the 30’s and 40’s. I walked over to look at them.