Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 01 - Death by Chocolate (17 page)

She walked me to the door, then, in a rare display of affection, gave me a hug. “You’ve been the best friend I’ve ever had. I’m going to miss you.”

I hugged her back but couldn’t tell her I’d miss her, too. I knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

It was dark as I hurried home, and I got a creepy sensation down my spine knowing somebody might be watching. I wanted to charge over there, poke a stick through the hole in the hedge and hope it found Loony Lester’s eye. I wanted to at least flip the bird to the old house just in case he was there. However, I restrained myself. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to let him know that we knew about his covert activities.

As soon as I got home, I called Fred. I felt a little guilty because I knew Paula trusted me not to tell anybody else about her secret, but I hadn’t promised, and this was for her own good. Besides, Fred wasn’t just anybody else
. He was our friend.

He listened quietly while I told him everything. “We’ve got to stop her from running away again,” I concluded, “but I do
n’t have the slightest idea how. Do you think we should call Trent? We could try to catch Lunatic Lester, but I don’t know what we’d do with him once we caught him. After we beat him senseless, that is. I doubt if talking logically to him is an option. Fred, what are we going to do?”

“I’m trying to think if you’d
be quiet for just a minute. There are some things that don’t add up here. How did this guy know when Paula would be asleep and it would be safe for him to come in and get Zach?”

I remembered what I’d often accused Fred of doing to explain how he knew everything that went on in the neighborhood. “He bugged her place?”

“That would be my guess. He came in while she was gone, installed a couple of hidden microphones and substituted sleeping pills for aspirin. Then the next time she had a headache, she’d be so drugged, he could come in and take the kid and she wouldn’t wake up. That would explain his presence at the old house. He wasn’t just watching. He was listening.”

“Damn! He could have been listening tonight. That means he knows she told me everything.”

“Right again. So whatever he’s planning, he’s probably going to speed up his timetable now.”

“Well, that pretty much brings me back to my original question. What can we do to help her?”

“I don’t know. We need to talk to her but he could have the phone bugged, too. We’ve got to get into her house without being seen. What are you wearing?”

“Fred, this is no time for an obscene phone call!”

He ignored my attempt at levity. “Put on dark clothes then go out your back door and over to Paula’s back door. There’s no moon tonight so you should be able to slip over unseen if you hide behind trees and shrubs as much as you can. That shouldn’t be difficult with the jungle you’re cultivating over there.”

“I’ll bet you’re glad now that I ignored all those notices from the Department of Sanitation to clean up the place.”

“It’s the Department of Health and they didn’t send you any notices. I’ll meet you on Paula’s back porch. If she sees you and lets you in before I get there, don’t let her say a word. I don’t want anybody to know we’re there.”

“Got it, General.” He might say he didn’t know what to do, but he certainly sounded like a man with a plan to me, as well as a man with far too much information. How did he know the Department of Health hadn’t sent me any notices?

I started to hang up then realized there was one thing he didn’t know yet but probably would soon. At this point, all he could do was get mad at me, and he’d get over that. He always does. “I guess I’d better tell you something just so you’ll know exactly where we stand. Remember that paper cup in Lester Mackey’s bathroom that had the brown hairs with blond roots in it? Well, it’s empty now. I flushed those hairs. Destroyed evidence.”

He was silent for a couple of heart beats and I tensed, waiting for the explosion. “Did you flush the tissues with blood on them, too?” he asked in a calm voice.

“No. Why would I? It’s not her blood, is it?”

“No, but I suspect it’s going to play a role in taking her down. Never mind. We’ll deal with that when we have to. I’ll meet you on Paula’s back porch in five minutes.”

Men are totally incomprehensible.

I changed into black jeans and a black sweatshirt with a hood. If we didn’t get into Paula’s house fast, I would be in danger of passing out from heat prostration.

I hesitated before going out the door. How the heck was I supposed to keep Paula from saying anything when she saw me? She was a basket case knowing that creep was in town and watching her. She’d probably scream bloody murder.

I found a piece of paper and printed in big letters,
House is bugged! Don’t say a word!
Now if she’d only read it before she screamed bloody murder…or came after me with a .357 Magnum.

Chapter
Eleven

A few minutes later as I stood sweating on Paula’s porch, Fred emerged from the darkness carrying a suitcase of some sort and a canvas bag. From the bag he produced a gadget that permitted him to unlock Paula’s deadbolt in a matter of seconds.

The man was definitely going to have some explaining to do when this was all over.

He handed me a small penlight from the canvas bag. “As soon as we get in,” he whispered, “I want you to find Paula, but don’t let her say anything. Get her into the bathroom. Since we’re dealing with a specialized madman and not your garden variety pervert, that’s the place least likely to be bugged. If it’s dark, use this light to show her your face.”

I held up my piece of paper and whispered, “I’ll use the light to show her this note I wrote.”

“Good idea. I hope you printed it. She’d never be able to read your handwriting.”

“I printed it! Jerk.”

He turned the knob and pushed against the door. It stuck.

Fred sighed. “This is a bad time for her to
become even more cautious.”

He deftly removed the glass from the small window, then reached inside and was able to push away the obstruction, a kitchen chair, and get the door open.

The house was dark. Paula must have gone to bed. No surprise since it was close to ten o’clock and we had to get up at three.

I tugged off the hot sweat shirt and tossed it onto the chair. I didn’t think a black-hooded figure in her house in the middle of the night would inspire confidence in Paula. Besides, it was hot.

I tiptoed upstairs, cringing every time one of the boards creaked. Old houses made noises, I told myself. Someone listening from across the street would never equate the irregular sounds with footsteps. But I still cringed with every one.

Paula’s bedroom door was open. She always slept that way so she could hear Zach if he cried.

Maybe it was also to hear a possible intruder.

I stood for a moment with my back against the wall trying to figure the best way to do this. I doubted if she was asleep so soon after such a traumatic evening, but I was afraid to even whisper her name after Fred’s warning.

I eased over into her doorway and was surprised to see that the drapes on the front window were parted a few inches, and the blinds were open. From the faint light coming through, I noticed that Paula’s bed was unmade. She sat in a chair staring out the window. On the alert. This wasn’t going to be easy.

I turned on the flashlight, shone the beam on my note and walked into her bedroom.

In the space of a breath, she shot up out of the chair and charged across the room toward me, the blade of a very long, very shiny knife flashing in one uplifted hand. I dropped my note and flashlight and grabbed her arm with both hands, halting that knife in mid-plunge. I’m bigger than she is and stronger from all that chocolate, but she had the adrenaline of panic on her side. Actually, my adrenaline was surging pretty good by that time, too. I was amazed…and thankful…that she didn’t scream. Probably didn’t want to scare Zach. Always the quintessential mother.

After struggling for an hour or a few seconds, depending on whether you measured in real time or perceived time, her gaze fell on my face and apparently there was enough light from that window for her to recognize me. She stopped struggling and opened her mouth as if to speak. I put one hand over her mouth and whispered very softly into her ear, “Don’t say anything.”

Her eyes scanned my face as if she wasn’t sure whether she should trust me or not, but finally she nodded.

I retrieved my light and brilliantly-conceived, completely-worthless note from the floor, took her hand and we stumbled through silent darkness to the bathroom at the end of the hall. I closed the door behind us, and we both stood for a minute taking deep breaths.

Paula flipped on the light switch and I gasped in horror at that action. Now I was being paranoid. The bathroom was at the back of the house and had only one small window which was covered by mini-blinds and a heavy curtain like the rest of her windows. The odds were minimal that anyone could see the light, but at this point, I didn’t think we could count on even minimal odds being in our favor.

Even so, someone going to the bathroom in the middle of the night wasn’t suspicious behavior. We could safely leave the light on for a few minutes.

I made a writing motion on the back of my stupid note, and Paula nodded then opened a drawer and withdrew an eyebrow pencil. Thank goodness she’d been coloring her brows darker and not bleaching them lighter.

I sat on the floor and wrote that I’d told Fred everything.

She laid the knife on the vanity, sat beside me, read my words and glared at me. I could tell she was a little upset by the way she tried to snatch the eyebrow pencil away from me, but, as I mentioned, I’m bigger than she is. I kept writing, telling her that Fred was searching for the
bugs
we suspected were in her house and he would join us soon but we had to be quiet until then.

She got very still and I finally handed her the pencil. She stared at me for a long moment before
she took it and wrote,
I’ve got to get out of here now!

Fortunately it was at that point Fred opened the door and joined us. He had some kind of big electronic gadget this time, presumably from the suitcase. He pointed some sort of a wand or microphone all over the room and checked a dial. A
bug
detector? Fred had some pretty sophisticated equipment for a computer nerd and old movie buff.

Finally he unplugged the gadget and took a seat on the toilet stool.

I had to restrain myself from laughing at the incongruity…Fred with all his dignity and obsessiveness, holding court on the toilet stool while Paula and I sat at his feet.

“This room’s clean,” he said softly, “but I found one under your bed and one under the coffee table in the living room.” 

“Did you get rid of them?” Though she spoke barely above a whisper, I could hear the panic in Paula’s voice.

“No, we can’t do that. Then he’d know that we know. He’s already aware that you told Lindsay everything. That’ll put him on alert and could push him into making a move we’re not ready for. What we need to do is use this guy’s own devices against him.”

“Like how?” I asked.

“For one thing, we’ve got to convince him that Paula’s not leaving town.”

“Omigawd!” Paula exclaimed, the softness of her voice not negating the urgency. “He knows my plan, to pretend to go to the day care! He’ll be following me!”

“Which means you can’t do it,” I said, relieved we had that out of the way. “Okay, here’s what we need to do. As soon as I get home tonight, I’ll come out my front door and Paula can let me in hers, then, for Lester’s benefit, I’ll argue her out of leaving.”

“Good,” Fred approved. “Make it convincing.”

“Then I’ll leave after work instead.” For a timid person, Paula sure is stubborn.

“You’re not leaving,” I said.

“We’ve been through this before. I thought you understood that I have no other choice.”

“No, I just understood I might as well agree with you until I could figure out how to change your mind.”

“Lindsay,” she protested, “you can’t go around making decisions for other people!”

“I certainly can when those other people are about to make the wrong decision!”

“Fred, you understand, don’t you? You see that I have no choice except to hide from this man.”

“You can’t run the rest of your life,” Fred replied. “We’ve got to get rid of him.”

“Good idea.” I handed Fred the butcher knife.

“Lindsay, sometimes I worry about you. We’ve got to find this guy’s weak spot and hone in on it. Paula, I need for you to tell me everything you know about your father-in-law.”

Paula told Fred what she’d told me. There wasn’t a lot to go on. Lester Bennett, like his son, maintained a perfect public persona as an upstanding member of the community. He worked for a freight company, was a deacon in the
church, a member of several local civic groups and paid his taxes on time. His only eccentricity was a well-hidden talent for beating his wife.

“If we had more time, we could do a lot with that, but I suspect this guy’s getting ready to make his move. Okay, I need to do some research. In the meantime, we need to get an eyeball identification and be certain this really is Lester Bennett we’re dealing with.”