Read Somewhere in His Arms Online
Authors: Katia Nikolayevna
“I’m not?”
She took the tape from him and sat down. Lucy patted the bed beside her. “Sit, husband and tell me everything you know.”
He sat down, wishing he’d kept his big gob shut. But Alec told her what he knew and watched in alarm as her dark eyes lit up with puckish intent.
Here, we go again,
he thought uneasily. “What are you thinking, imp?”
“Come on!” she grabbed his hand and tugged him with her through the house. Pat and Gavin were gone for the day to the Santa Monica Pier. They’d invited them to go along, but Lucy and Alec were in no mood for revelry and had declined. “We’ll make a day of it!”
“W-We will?” he panted, trying to keep up with her brisk strides. “B-But we’re not done packing!”
“Later, English!” she laughed, settling herself behind the wheel. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Um…I don’t know,” he said, and buckled his seatbelt. “I think the TSA agent may have removed it when he gave me that colonoscopy.”
“Oh, stop!” she giggled and turned the key. “Aren’t you worried about Rudy?”
“I am.”
Lucy pulled out and headed for the Pacific Coast Highway. “Then let’s find out where he is, shall we?”
He glanced over at his wife and decided this was better than her moping about. That lively sparkle in her eyes was back, and he rolled down his window and allowed the sea air to calm his frazzled nerves. “Where are we going?”
“The library and then over to talk to Detective Brandon. I want to know what he’s been doing while we’ve been worrying ourselves sick.”
“What makes you think the fellow knows anything? Rudy doesn’t trust him farther than he can throw him.”
“Exactly!”
Alec rummaged around in his pocket for a stick of gum and shoved it into his mouth. Before this day was through, he was certain he’d have to take up smoking.
They spent a few hours in the library going over the extensive newspaper collection, examining the decades-old coverage of Reese’s rein of terror. For the first time since knowing Rudy, Lucy was able to see the horrific toll it had taken on the man she’d come to view as a father figure. There was page after page of a haggard looking Rudy being grilled by the press and in one snapshot, a grieving mother confronted him on the court steps after the first trial had ended in a hung jury, and flung her son’s ashes all over his pristine black suit. The look captured by the photographer would stay imprinted on Lucy’s mind for many years to come: that of a burned out man who’d been pushed to the brink by a sadistic child murderer.
Alec had had enough for one day and went over to his wife who was still pouring over the old newsprints. “Let’s go.”
“B-But I haven’t finished!” she protested as he closed the book. “It’s barely twelve!”
“I thought you wanted to interrogate Brandon.”
“I do.”
“So let’s go. If we hurry, we might catch him before he heads out to lunch.”
“Oh, all right!” she relented begrudgingly and trailed after him and into the parking lot. He sat behind the wheel this time and offered her a stick of gum.
“Here,” he said, as he pulled out and began the short drive to the police station. “Work on that.”
Lucy stuffed it into her mouth and chewed furiously. “Poor Rudy,” she said as they stopped at a red light. “I never knew how bad it was for him.”
“None of us did,” Alec said, checking the rearview to see how far a tour bus was behind him. The driver looked to be in a heated discussion with one of his passengers. “I suppose he just wanted it all to go away. Some of us are like that.” He grinned knowingly at his wife. “Remember?”
“I remember,” she sighed. “You think Brandon will talk to us?”
“It all depends on what sort of mood he’s in.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She hadn’t eaten breakfast and now was starting to feel bitchy. “Oh, never mind. Let’s go and then maybe
we
can get something to eat.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said lightly and swore as he passed the packed parking lot. “We’ll have to park on the street. I hope you brought lots of change.”
“Sure,” she muttered glumly and checked her purse.
He parked on a meter and fed his coins in. “Two hours ought to do it.”
Lucy allowed him to help her out and they made their way out into the afternoon sun while her headache threatened to split her skull. They passed through uniformed officers and suited detectives on their way to lunch. Then they approached an officer munching a sandwich behind his plexiglass shelter, and he told them to sit while he went to see if anyone was available. They sat reluctantly in hard plastic chairs, and Lucy didn’t know which was worse: the smell of stale cigarettes or the smell of old coffee.
Suddenly there was a loud commotion as one of the officers lost control of his prisoner and soon there was a writhing mass of black as a melee ensued. The accused kicked and spat at his jailers and bit one of them. A tall, burly fellow finally got pissed off enough to pepper spray him, and they hauled the bearded menace off to simmer down in a cell. The rest of the station went about their business as if nothing had happened.
“Did you
see
that?” she commented to Alec, who hadn’t batted an eye.
“They shouldn’t have taken their eyes off him. The quiet ones are the ones you’ve got to worry about.”
“Oh?” Lucy brushed a piece of lint off her husband’s slacks. “And what do you do?”
He grinned slyly. “Grow eyes in the back of me head!”
“Cheeky monkey,” she giggled and leaned her head on his shoulder. It was now two o’clock. “I suppose they’ll find us fossilized after the apocalypse.”
“Patience, my love.” He kissed the top of her head. Alec was beginning to worry. It seemed as if they’d been forgotten as officers went to and fro and pounded away at their keyboards. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they were ushered in amidst all this lively bustling about and settled in front of a frazzled female sergeant who looked like she needed a vacation. She was buried up to her armpits in a swollen jumble of Manila folders and was making considerable progress through one heap when she glanced up and saw her guests. Her small eyes became annoyed slits as she looked at the intruders.
“Can I…
help
you?” she sniffed and went back to shuffling paperwork.
“We’d like to speak to Detective Brandon,” Lucy stupidly informed her. The woman stopped shuffling and eyed Lucy as if she’d just declared she had crabs. “I-If it’s not too much…trouble,” she stammered, wondering why the woman was making her so nervous. “Please,” she added sweetly.
The sergeant smiled and declared imperiously, “He just left for lunch. I guess you’ll just have to speak to me.” She flung a folder into a tray and settled her elbows onto her desk. “Now, what can I help you two with today?”
Lucy wondered if she’d just stepped into a parallel universe where the people who were supposed to help you looked like they would have no qualms about pushing you in front of an oncoming train. “We wanted to speak to him concerning Rudy Bartlett.”
The sergeant’s thin lips mouthed the name and she frowned. “Isn’t he some famous lawyer or something?”
“Yeah,” Alec interjected, “he was working on a case with Detective Brandon when he went missing.”
“Would you like to file a missing persons report?” she asked as if she couldn’t care less and fished out a form from her desk.
“What? No!” Lucy blurted. “He’s not---”
Moody gray eyes met concerned brown ones. “But he’s been missing for more than 48 hours, right?”
Alec exchanged glances with his wife and nodded. “It’s been three and half weeks.”
“Why didn’t you file one sooner?” the sergeant said, in a slightly accusatory tone, as if they were somehow responsible. “The first 48 hours are crucial.”
“Yes, we know!” Alec told her, not appreciating what she was implying and growing irritated with the woman’s smug demeanor. “He’s a grown man who’s free to come and go as he pleases.”
“Sure, he is,” the sergeant snickered and began filling out the form. “Name…?”
“We just told you his name!”
“Name?” The sergeant pressed on as if enjoying their distress.
“Rudy… Edward… Bartlett,” Lucy said tightly.
“Age?”
“Fifty-seven.”
“And when did he go missing?”
Lucy turned towards her husband. “When was it?”
“October. Maybe around the tenth.”
“Uh-huh,” the sergeant nodded and tucked the form into a folder. “And you didn’t think it was out of character for him to… go off just like that?”
“For
Rudy?”
they answered in unison. “No!”
“Well, we’ll call you if we hear anything.” Then she went back to her paperwork.
“That’s it?”
Lucy said in disbelief. “Aren’t you going to call… someone?”
The gray eyes glanced up, and Lucy could have sworn she saw something unpleasant flicker in their watery depths. “What would you
have
us do? Drag out the hounds and send out the guard?” She gestured around with her pencil. “We have more important things to do. We’ll get to it when we get to it!’
“Now, see here---!” Lucy sputtered in outrage and was suddenly grabbed by Alec who thanked the sergeant and quickly ushered her outside. “Let go of me!” she snapped, smacking his hands away. “Ooh! Rude much?” she shouted towards the building and stalked off to their car.
Alec checked the meter and unlocked the doors. “Get in, wife!” he ordered and watched as she slid into the seat, arms crossed like a petulant child. “Calm yourself, woman,” he said dryly and drove off. “Want to get something to eat?”
“If that hussy hadn’t been wearing a uniform,” she grumbled, “I would have kicked her ass!”
“I don’t doubt it, love.” He pulled into traffic and headed toward a familiar restaurant. “But I don’t think I want to visit you in jail.”
Lucy hung her head in shame. “Why
didn’t
we report him sooner?”
He sighed. “Don’t do that to yourself. I’m just as much to blame.”
“I feel so guilty. We’re living in his house and he’s out there somewhere lying hurt or…worse.” She swiped a few tears away. “I’ll never forgive myself if something happened to him.”
“You can’t think like that, Lucy,” Alec said, not knowing whom he was trying to convince. “We got caught up in Gavin and all that. It happens and he wasn’t exactly forthcoming himself.”
“He wasn’t?”
“Nope, he went off all by his little self and didn’t tell anybody where he was going or what to do if something like this happened.”
She sighed warily and rolled down her window. “I suppose you’re right.”
“If it’ll make you feel better, love,” he said, pulling up in front of an Italian restaurant. “I’ll get with Pat and see what he thinks of all this.”
“What can he do?”
“You’d be surprised, wife,” he grinned. “Now, let’s eat!”