In the Shadow of Love (6 page)

“Yes, the car was parked just beyond where the man was standing.”  Her voice struggled with the words as she pointed.

His eyes followed the direction of her extended arm.  The full-length windows that met his gaze allowed a panoramic view of the winding street and the expanse of Maggie’s front and side yard.

“What a beautiful view.”

“Yes.”  Fear still punctuated her voice as she stood frozen in the doorway, arms folded across her chest.

“Maggie,” he spoke quietly, gently.

“Maggie!” A little stronger now.  Turning away from the windows her eyes met his as she lowered her arms to her side.

“Maggie, you can’t let this man rob you of your life.”

More tears.  “I know,” the words conflicted with her tone of resignation.

Then suddenly, a look of fierce determination covered her face as she straightened and walked boldly into the kitchen.

Maggie mustered all the courage she could find and crossed the tiled floor towards the kitchen counter where the paper with the partial plate number lay.  She hadn’t felt this emotional since her divorce.  Biting down on her lip she tasted blood, the pain catalyzing her resolve.  She was a survivor if nothing else.  Now she would have to be a fighter.

Quickly turning to hand the detective the paper before she lost her nerve, she found herself dangerously close to his strong solid chest.  Pulling herself back she lost her footing and would have fallen if he hadn’t reached out to steady her.  She felt his strength and liked its effect on her.  It had been a long time since someone had steadied her.

Their eyes met briefly but long enough for her to know that as long as he was here she’d be okay.

He took the paper from her hand, their fingers touched, and an electrifying sensation arced between them.  Both struggled to put the obvious attraction aside.

“This is good, Maggie.”  His voice broke through the awkwardness.  “This is very good.”

His praise elated her, more than it probably should but right now it helped bolster her from the near emotional paralysis that was teetering back and forth in her mind.

“I have to go call this in from my vehicle.”

She straightened in response as her fear threatened to return.

“I won’t be far away.  Why don’t you check on your sons and I’ll ring the door bell when I come back.  Lock everything up behind me.”

Morris left Maggie standing in her kitchen.  He had to.   As fear washed over her beautiful features he was tempted to stay and comfort her, something that was too dangerous for him to explore right now.  Pausing outside he waited for the sound of dead bolts locking in place before proceeding.

Typing the license plate information into the laptop mounted in his vehicle he didn’t have to wait for long before a string of data popped up.  He further refined the list to darker colored vehicles which reduced it down to one page.

With the results printed he headed back towards the house.  Stepping onto Maggie’s walkway he noticed her neighbors standing in their front entrances or peering outside their windows, bringing the unwanted attention he’d hoped to avoid.

His eyes scoured the neighborhood looking for houses with any advantage to observe Maggie’s house.  One in particular stood out.  Its large front windows were similar to the ones on Maggie’s but positioned in such a way that the occupant would have to be blind to miss any of the activities in the neighborhood.  A sudden movement caught his attention and the slightly bent figure moved away from the window.

Walking slowly towards the house he felt he was being watched.  He rang the doorbell and waited.  No answer.  He rang again.  Nothing.  He gave the door a hard knock on its solid exterior.  The sound of movement on the other side told him he was being ignored.  He knocked again.

“Go away or I’m gonna call the police.”  The scratchy voice of an older woman berated him through the thickness of the door.

“Excuse me ma’am, I am the police.”

“How do I know that!  You don’t look like the police.”                                                      

“I can show you my badge, ma’am.”  He didn’t mind the woman’s stubbornness.  She was taking all the necessary precautions.

“You could have bought that in a store somewhere for all I know.”

She was definitely paying attention to details.

Morris reached for his cell phone and called Maggie.  Maybe she could convince her elderly neighbor to talk to him.

In less than a minute he heard the telephone ring.  Another minute then the door was opened, although cautiously.  A worried and weathered face peered around its edge.

“Maggie says you’re a detective.”

“Yes, ma’am, I am.”

“I still want to see your badge.”

“Of course, ma’am.” He watched her closely as he extended his credentials for her review.

She took her time in scrutinizing the badge that he held close enough for her to see but not close enough to be caught in a suddenly slammed door – a lesson he learned the hard way, years ago, when a particularly difficult witness slammed the door on his wrist and broke it in three places.  There were days it still hurt.  Just thinking about it made it hurt.

“If Maggie says its okay, I guess I can talk to you.”

As the door closed he heard the safety chain slide off its track.  A minute or so passed before the door reopened.

“Mrs. Rivers?”  He wanted to establish a rapport before entering the house.  That’s
if
she let him in.  She didn’t.

“Yes, but I guess Maggie told you that, didn’t she?”

“Yes, ma’am she did.”

“Well, what can I do for you, young man.  I don’t have all day.”

He suspected that wasn’t quite true.  She was establishing who was in control.

“I’m Detective Morris, and –”

“Yes, Maggie told me.”

“– and I’d like to ask you a few questions about this morning.”

“You mean the strange car in the neighborhood?”  Terseness seemed to be her trademark.

“Yes, ma’am, that would be it.  Did you see the vehicle?”

“Of course I did.  I always notice what doesn’t belong.”

He was sure that she did.

“Can you describe the car?”  His notebook out and pen ready, he expected a complete description.

“Yes, of course I can!  It was one of those fancy import jobs.  If you ask me people should be buying American made cars.  I always do.  Not good for this country for everybody to be buying all that overseas stuff.”

“Excuse me ma’am, back to the car.”  Politics was the last thing on his mind right now.  “Can you tell me what color it was?”

“Of course I can young man, weren’t you listening to me?”  She wanted to do this her way and only her way.  He had a feeling a trip to the dentist would be less painful.

“Yes, ma’am, go on.”

“Besides, young man, don’t you just want to know the license number instead?”

“So, you have the number?”   He didn’t know if he should hug or throttle her.

She made a face.  “Of course I do.  Don’t they teach you anything at that detective school you went to!”

Abruptly shutting the door she left him standing on her front porch dumbfounded.  Knowing he wouldn’t be invited inside his only option seemed to be waiting.

As if on cue the front door reopened and Mrs. Rivers presented him with a written log of the coming and goings in the neighborhood.  It was a wealth of information and Morris was truly impressed.

“Thank You.”

“Well, what are you waiting for!”  She made a gesture that was as impatient as her tone, reminding him of his sixth grade math teacher.  Neither of them were patient and both were intimidating.

He looked over the log and scanned the pages for today’s date.  Three entries were listed.  The first referenced the suspicious car with the license plate noted.  He quickly checked it against his list and found an entry that matched.

Then he saw the name that the car was registered to.

He made some notes and handed the pages back to her.

“Mrs. Rivers you’ve been very helpful.  I was wondering if you can do another thing for me?”

“Of course, young man.  The police need all the help they can get.”

He decided she meant that in the nicest way possible.

“Can you keep these logs until I can get someone over here to make copies?”

“I always keep my logs!”  Mrs. Rivers was indignant that he’d suggest otherwise.  “I have them as far back as 1990 when I first moved here.  Been doing it that long.”

He didn’t doubt it for a moment.

“Well, ma’am, again, you’ve been very helpful and I really appreciate everything you’ve done to help the police today.”  Morris turned to go.  “And, I’m sure Maggie does too.”

“Nice young lady.  Needs to be married, though, what with two young boys and all.”   Mrs. Rivers shook her head, a disapproving look on her face.

He was left wondering what
and all
meant but left it alone, anxious to get back to Maggie.  He even felt his heart race – just a little.  In part from excitement at being near her and in part from apprehension at sharing his discovery with her – something he couldn’t avoid.  Not now.