Terminated (12 page)

He opened Kirsten’s door. “See, I told you I’d win.”

“No, Daddy, we won,” Kirsten said. “Mommy told me so.”

“What?” Paul said, feigning indignation.

“Carry me, Daddy,” said Kirsten.

Paul picked her up her from her car seat and carried her into the house while Gwen grabbed her purse off the backseat. He came straight back out with a fierce look on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“He trashed the house.”

G
wen expected worse, but the invasion was
no less of a violation. Someone had gone through their home. The house was in disarray—overturned furniture, drawers emptied out, and their possessions flung across the rooms. Despite the carnage, little looked to be broken, but it was impossible to tell if anything had been taken without a full inventory of their possessions.

Gwen followed Kirsten into her room. The girl cried when she saw the mess.

Paul appeared in Kirsten’s doorway. “This was him, wasn’t it?”

“Who else?” Gwen detected the note of defeat in her reply. She should have expected something like this. It was the natural progression in Tarbell’s hate campaign.

“I’m calling the cops,” Paul said. “I don’t care what Pace or Ingram says. I’m telling them Tarbell did this.”

Gwen didn’t object. “Use your cell phone. I’m sure they don’t want us touching anything.”

Paul nodded, pulled out his cell, and left the room.

Gwen’s cell rang, and she put Kirsten down to answer the call. It was Ingram. She’d called him after Paul had told her to stay in the car. She wanted to eradicate the doubt that had crept in after last night’s incident.

“Gwen, it wasn’t him.”

“What do you mean? It had to be.”

Paul poked his head through the
door. He was still waiting for the cops to answer his call.

“I just checked in with my stakeout guy, and Tarbell is currently at home and has been since he left Pace tonight.”

“That can’t be true.”

“It is.”

“Then he’s got an accomplice.”

“That may be, but I can’t prove that yet. Just hang tight, I’m on my way. Have you called the police?”

“We’re on hold.”

“OK, report the break-in, but don’t mention Tarbell.”

Gwen went to object but saw no point. She could point the finger, but no one would listen. She hung up on Ingram.

“It’s not Tarbell,” she said to Paul. “Don’t mention him to the cops.”

Paul shook his head and walked away.

Ingram arrived not long after the Alameda Police. He introduced himself as a friend and politely waited outside until Gwen gave her statement and came out to see him. The arrival of three police units drew the stares of neighbors, but no one ventured beyond their front lawns to lend their support. She leaned against the side of Ingram’s car.

“Anything taken?” Ingram asked.

Gwen shook her head. “Just vandalism.”

“This could be just that. A case of random vandalism.”

She gave him a look he deserved.

“All I’m saying is we can’t rule anything out. I know you want it to be him, but surveillance places him at home. That’s solid. Yes, he could be using an accomplice but we’ve got no evidence of that yet. If we find it, I promise you, he will pay for this and everything else.”

Paul came out of the house with an overnight bag. Kirsten trotted alongside him carrying her Blue’s Clues backpack. Ingram said hello, but Paul ignored him.

“Look, you and Kirsten had better check
into a motel or something,” Paul said. “These guys are going to be here for some time. They want to talk to the neighbors and check for prints.”

“OK.” Gwen hugged him. “I’ll call you when I’ve found a place.”

“I know a hotel where you can stay,” Ingram said to Paul. “I use it all the time.”

“I’m keeping your secret,” Paul told Ingram. “Just stop this psycho before something really bad happens, OK?”

Paul gave Kirsten a squeeze before she and Gwen got into Ingram’s car. Ingram drove them to the Marriott in downtown Oakland. Gwen checked in, but Ingram registered the room with his credit card. Gwen didn’t know whether or not to take this an apology for what had happened. He saw them up to their room and asked to come in. Kirsten was fading fast. Distress had burned up the last of her energy. Gwen told him to wait in the bar, and she’d see him after she’d put Kirsten to bed. She went down without a fight.

Gwen called Ingram up to the room the second Kirsten was asleep.

The room was a studio with a partition separating the bedroom from a lounge area. Gwen sat on the sofa, and Ingram sat kitty-corner in one of the armchairs. He leaned forward so he could speak in a low voice and not wake Kirsten.

“You ran out on us today.”

“I just needed some time to myself.”

“That’s fine, but you need to inform me. I can’t do my job if you don’t.”

“You told me I was done. That you and your team had it covered. You’re watching Stephen every second of the day and night. How could I be in any danger?”

Ingram went to say something but smiled instead. “Because he has an accomplice.”

“You said it.”

“Look, I’m checking the accomplice
angle. If he has one, he’s going to have to make contact at some point. The guy is a loner. That means he’s going to have to rent a partner. He’s also going to have to pay and there’s going to be a cash exchange.”

“It’s pretty obvious you don’t believe in the accomplice theory, so if Stephen hasn’t got one, what’s going on?”

“One possibility is that last night’s attack and tonight’s break-in were random acts. A thief at Pace and vandals at your home.”

“Oh, please, do you really believe that? Are you telling me that two random acts occurred and I happened to be a victim in both cases days after a man threatened to kill me? I don’t know about you, but I don’t believe in the coincidence fairy.”

Ingram smiled. “I agree. It does seem unlikely, but it is possible.”

“Ignoring coincidence, how else could he have done it? Could he slip out without your surveillance guy noticing?”

“I have confirmed sightings of him at the times of the attacks.”

“So if we’re ruling out a coincidence, an accomplice, and a rock-solid alibi, what else do we have?”

“That’s the million-dollar question,” he said rising to his feet.

It was a question he clearly didn’t have an answer for. She’d hoped to force him into a corner, but she was the one who felt cornered.

“I’m going to check in with my watcher and pay a visit to Tarbell.”

He went to the door and opened it. Gwen stopped him.

“What is it you’re not saying?”

“Nothing, Gwen. Please don’t concern yourself.”

“Another option is that I faked the intruder at Pace. I can see why you’d believe that, but do you honestly believe I trashed my own home?”

“It’s a possibility,” he said and let himself out.

The moment Ingram called Petersen to tell
him that he was on his way over, Petersen called Tarbell.

“My boss is coming to check you out. Make sure you’re visible. Leave a drape open or something.”

“I can do better than that. When’s he expected?”

“In the next twenty to thirty.”

“I’ll put on a show.”

The conversation was at an end, but Petersen kept it alive. “Look, you need to cool it with the hardcore shit. Two hits in two nights is too much. Be smart. Just back off.”

His plea just bounced off Tarbell’s thick ego.

“Don’t lecture me. I can make it five nights in a row if I want. Are you worried someone will put two and two together?”

“You’re pushing the limits of believability. Be smart is all I’m saying.”

“Well, I’m pursuing a different but no less destructive line of action, which should please you. There’ll be no physical or material damage for a while.”

“This has nothing to do with pleasing me. Just do what you need to do and move on with your life.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

Petersen released a breath when Tarbell hung up.

Silence reigned inside the car, but his thoughts kept making noise. He’d been a cop for a long time, so he knew the power of intimidation, but for the first time, he understood the courage it took to come forward as a witness, because he didn’t possess it himself. He was an old guy with a pension trying to protect his family. He would have to rely on Tarbell making a mistake. Hopefully, he would. He knew Tarbell’s type. Anger would get the better of the man eventually.

Ingram interrupted Petersen’s thoughts by sliding into the passenger seat alongside him.

“Is he in there?”

“Yeah.”

Tarbell had listened and drawn back one
of the drapes, but not all the way. It looked as if he’d been lazy about closing them. From where they were seated, they didn’t have a clear view into the house, but it was easy to catch the flicker of the TV and movement from inside.

Ingram picked up Petersen’s binoculars and tried to see inside Tarbell’s house. “You’re sure of that? I can’t get a visual.”

“I’m sure.”

Then on cue, Tarbell appeared from his side yard wheeling out his trash cans to the street.

“Shit,” Ingram murmured. “That ends that question.”

It sure does
, Petersen thought.

“And you haven’t seen anyone go inside?”

“Nope.”

“It would suit me fine if this son of a bitch has a partner, but I’m not seeing it.” Ingram exhaled. “Even if he does have an accomplice, I don’t understand why he’s using one. It’s not like he knows we’re watching him.”

Petersen went cold and fought to keep a shiver in. Ingram missed his panicked expression in the darkness. A part of him willed Ingram to make the connection and take the problem out of his hands. But the urge withered as he remembered Tarbell’s photograph.

“He doesn’t have to know he’s being followed,” Petersen said. “Him being at home could be for alibi purposes. He knows Gwen is itching to call the cops and that she’ll point the finger at him.

“But who’s going to corroborate that? You haven’t seen anyone visit him.”

“We’re his alibi.”

“I know. This asshole has us covering his butt. What a joke.”

“Tell Gwen to drop the hammer on Tarbell. We could always say we weren’t here and leave the prick high and dry.”

“No.” Ingram’s answer was firm. “We do it right. PSI’s rep is built on being better than the scum
we nail.”

It was a hard point to argue.

Petersen hoped Tarbell didn’t get cocky. He believed he was smarter than everyone, and most likely he was, but he wasn’t smart enough to acknowledge that other intelligent people existed. Petersen could envisage Tarbell cocking a look their way and tipping Ingram off, but to Petersen’s relief, he acted as if no one was watching him. He positioned the cans in the gutter and returned to his house.

Ingram watched Tarbell intently. Petersen could tell that he still wanted to believe in Gwen.

Petersen needed to test the waters. “So if Tarbell was here when Gwen’s home was tossed, what’s going on?”

“I don’t quite know. If we can’t prove the existence of a partner and we cross out the chances of random bad luck, then I’m still looking at Gwen for possible involvement.”

“You still believe she’s making all this up?”

“Last night would have been easy to orchestrate. She switched the lights off, ran around the building screaming and claiming the emergency exit wouldn’t open. It seemed like a good idea, but it backfired. You were on Tarbell all night, and we don’t have any physical evidence tying him to the scene. So she trashed her own home today.”

“Are you serious?”

“She went AWOL today. She told the office she was sick and her husband she went to work. It would be easy to work her own place over. She knows she’s not being watched.”

“But she knows we’re watching Tarbell.”

“I didn’t say it made sense. She’s frantic. She wants Tarbell taken care of quickly, so she’s trying to help us along. This isn’t the first time this has happened to her.”

“What do you mean?”

“The background check kicked up that when she was a college senior at UC Davis, she was abducted by a guy who planned to rape her. She got away, but the guy, Desmond
Parker, stabbed her. He’s doing fifteen to life in San Quentin.”

Petersen felt for Gwen. Life was dealing her a shitty hand of cards. At least Parker had been wrapped up and put away quickly. Tarbell had his hooks in and wasn’t going anywhere.

“There could be some trauma driving her down this route,” Ingram said. “Parker is up for parole.”

“Christ,” Petersen murmured. It was as if Tarbell was being gifted his own cover story. “Do you think she made up the initial attack?”

“I don’t like to think so.”

“So what happens now?”

“We keep on Tarbell and try to find a partner. In the meantime, I’m putting a tail on her. If she does try to implicate Tarbell in any crime that’s her doing, then we have her.”

Ingram stayed for a little while longer before leaving. He walked by Tarbell’s house before picking up his car. As he drove into the distance, Tarbell put his face through the gap left by the undrawn drapes. Petersen squirmed as Tarbell looked his way, grinning. He had every reason to grin. Everything was going his way.