Sullivan's Law (29 page)

Carolyn became engrossed in the old newspaper articles. As she was scanning through the archives, she caught the name Madeline Milcher and quicky locked onto the article. Milcher had been Madeline's maiden name. The article said the Cornell graduate had been arrested for shoplifting by the Ventura PD. The arresting officer was listed as Charles Harrison, and the charges were later dismissed as unfounded.

She printed out the articles and left the room, calling Hank from the master bedroom. The line was busy, so she left a message on his voice mail for him to call her in the morning.

B
oredom arrived Friday night like a thunderstorm.

Rebecca had watched every movie at least twice, John had surfed the net and talked physics until Carolyn and Isobel had to resort to pinning up visiting hours on the door to Daniel's room. Even Isobel, who'd left the house several times to run errands and buy food, informed them that she was leaving Sunday morning to attend church and visit her son's grave.

“Why can't we go out to the movies?” Rebecca argued, tossing pillows around in the living room. “We'll wear disguises or something.”

It was six-thirty and Carolyn was seated on the sofa. John was slouched next to her, changing the channels on the television. When Rebecca hit her mother in the face with a pillow, Carolyn exploded. “I won't tolerate this kind of behavior, young lady. I told you when we came here that we'd have to stay in the house until the police apprehended the suspects. We haven't even been here three days.”

“No one's trying to hurt us anymore,” her daughter said, facing her mother in defiance. “I feel like I'm being held for ransom. I want to go home, be with my friends, go back to my school.”

John turned the TV off. “She's right, Mother,” he said. “These people have given up, don't you see? They think Daniel left town. He's always been the problem, not us. I'll never get a scholarship if I don't go back to school by next week. What do you expect us to do? Spend the rest of our lives here?”

Carolyn placed her head in her hands. She'd known there would be problems, but she hadn't expected them to surface this soon. “I talked to Detective Sawyer today,” she said wearily. “They may have a lead on Eddie Downly. A man identified him as a suspect in a crime committed in Los Angeles last night.”

“See?” John said, tossing his hands in the air. “The guy's moved on.”

“Downly robbed a supermarket at gunpoint,” his mother said, cutting her eyes to him. “He even fired at a bystander. Luckily he missed.” Now that she had their full attention, she continued, “He's just waiting, don't you understand? What reassurance do we have that he won't end up on our doorstep the moment we return to Ventura? This man is a killer. You spent time with him, John. Why don't you tell your sister some of the things Downly told you? Do you want Rebecca to end up in the morgue? Or maybe he won't kill her. There're other things a man like Eddie Downly might want to do to a young girl like your sister, a girl just on the verge of becoming a woman.”

John was appalled. “I can't believe you're talking about this kind of stuff in front of Rebecca.”

Carolyn's daughter was sitting perfectly still now, her arms limp at her sides.

“She's almost thirteen,” Carolyn told him. “She watches the news, movies, TV shows. She knows what goes on in the world.” She looked at Rebecca, rubbing her hands on her jeans. “I'm trying to explain why we have to stay here, honey. I would never frighten you for no reason. My responsibility as a parent is to protect you.” She got up and walked over to the girl, turning her arm over and revealing a circular scar located near her wrist. “Remember when you were seven? You decided to play with the oven. You didn't just burn your arm. You also caught your hair on fire. You didn't think that was dangerous either.”

“I have an idea,” John said, realizing his mother's concerns were valid. “Isobel's sick or something. She left a tuna casserole in the refrigerator for us. I can't stand tuna. We can order a pizza and watch a movie. If this Downly guy is robbing places, maybe someone will shoot him or the police will catch him any day now. You said he was in L.A., so we're safe here.”

“I've already watched all the movies,” Rebecca said, frustrated to the point of tears. “Besides, Mom said we couldn't order a pizza because she doesn't want anyone to know we're living in Professor Leighton's house. Sitting around with nothing to do makes me think more about the bad guys. Last night, I had a terrible nightmare.”

“Paul and Lucy may drive over tomorrow evening,” Carolyn told her, embracing her. “They'll probably spend the night. Then you'll have some company.”

“Why can't you go get us a pizza and some new DVDs?” Rebecca said, pulling away from her mother. “Isobel won't mind if you take her car. There's a Blockbuster and a Domino's pizza place in the shopping center on the corner. I can see the signs from my window. Wear a hat and sunglasses. If someone sees you, they'll just think you're a movie star.”

“Why don't we play gin rummy?” Carolyn suggested. “I think I saw a deck of cards somewhere. We'll have a tournament. Whoever wins will get ten dollars.”

Rebecca gave it some thought. “That's the same amount as my allowance. You can't buy much with ten dollars. Let's make it twenty.”

“Fine with me,” her mother said, smiling. “Go get your money. We have to put our money on the table.”

“You always win,” Rebecca said. “I only have five dollars.”

“Then five it will be.”

Carolyn searched the house, but failed to find the cards. Thinking Isobel had put them away, she knocked on her door. She should check on her anyway. Hearing the woman moaning, she turned the knob and entered.

Isobel was in bed, holding a large plastic bowl over her stomach. “I'm really sick,” she said. “Must be that flu that's going around. It's been coming out both ends for hours. I almost didn't make it to the bathroom last time. Don't come close. I don't want to get you sick.”

Carolyn ignored her, walking over and placing her hand on her forehead. “My God,” she exclaimed, “you're burning up.”

Isobel pushed her aside and raced to the bathroom across the hall. Carolyn took the plastic bowl into the kitchen and washed it out, then carried it back to her room. She wasn't sure how old Isobel was, but she appeared to be in her late fifties. With a younger person, she would feel safe letting them ride it out. She worried that Isobel might become dehydrated, especially since she was running a fever. She waited for her to come out of the bathroom, then helped her back to her bed. “Do you know any of the local doctors?”

“I'll be okay,” she said, leaning over the bowl as if she were going to vomit again.

“Where's the thermometer?”

“Look in the cabinet in the bathroom.”

Isobel again made a mad dash across the hall. “Call Dr. Clark,” she yelled through the closed door. “He's taken care of me for years. His number is on the refrigerator.”

Carolyn called the doctor, then punched in the number to her cell phone to page him. Once Isobel was in bed again, she took her temperature and discovered that it was 103 degrees. Heading to the living room, she found John and Rebecca seated at the dining room table playing gin rummy.

“I found the cards under a magazine on the coffee table,” John told her. “Rebecca doesn't want to eat the tuna casserole either. I'm starving.”

“I'm waiting for Isobel's doctor to call,” Carolyn said. “I'll make some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.” Tuna didn't sound too appetizing after cleaning up after Isobel.

Carolyn had the sandwiches, sodas, and a bag of chips on a tray when the doctor returned her call. “Hold on,” she said, carrying the phone to Isobel.

After she took the children their food, Carolyn returned to Isobel's room, picking up her cell phone off the end table. She reminded herself to wash her hands and wipe off the phone with disinfectant.

“He's calling me in some prescriptions,” Isobel told her, holding a piece of paper. “Something called Lomotil for the diarrhea and Compazine suppositories for the vomiting. I'm supposed to use the second one before the first one.”

“Where's the pharmacy?” Carolyn asked, her brows furrowing.

“Honey, I'm sorry,” Isobel said. “I forgot you weren't supposed to go out. Don't worry. Maybe this will pass in a few hours.”

“Is there a pharmacy that delivers? Forget it,” Carolyn added, trying to decide what she should do. What if the killers were watching the house? She would have to disarm the alarm. They could hit the delivery man over the head and start shooting the moment she opened the door. Isobel's Impala was in the garage. With the windows rolled up, there was at least some degree of protection. Since Fast Eddie had already committed another crime in Los Angeles, he could be out of the state by now.

“I'm going out,” she told John and Rebecca. “The drugstore is in the same center as Blockbuster. Make a list and I'll rent some new DVDs. Will you be happy then?”

“Yeah,” Rebecca said. “Buy some Peanut M&M's too, one of those big bags.”

Carolyn went upstairs to get her purse. She removed her Ruger from the nightstand, retrieved one of the extra Rugers Hank had given her, then went back downstairs to Daniel's room. “Have you ever fired a gun?”

He was sitting in the mauve-colored lounge chair, going over some of his work. Every day, he got stronger. He was now walking at least fifteen minutes every morning and evening, his incision appeared to be healing nicely, and they'd begun cutting back on his pain medication. “No,” he said, setting the papers on the end table. “Is something wrong?”

Carolyn explained that she had to go out to pick up Isobel's prescriptions. “I can either leave a gun with you or my son. I'd prefer to leave it with you.”

Daniel didn't hesitate. “Leave it with me.”

Carolyn pulled the extra Ruger out of her purse and handed it to him. “Using a gun is pretty basic.” She extended her right hand and braced it with her left, then showed him how to release the safety. “I'll reset the alarm when I go out. If the situation is serious enough that you have to shoot, there're only two things I want you to think about before you pull the trigger. Make certain it's not Isobel or one of my children. If they say they're the police, don't believe them. I've already spoken to Hank Sawyer today. There's no reason for anyone to show up at this house during the thirty minutes or so I'll be gone.” She stopped and reached into her purse again. “Here's an extra ammo clip just in case all hell breaks loose.” She removed the magazine presently in the Ruger to show him how it was done, then gave him the spare. “You've got ten rounds in each.” Before she left, she added, “Also, if Eddie Downly or anyone else breaks into the house, don't try to wound them. The best place to aim is right between their eyes. With the kind of people we've been dealing with, shoot to kill.”

 

Carolyn didn't wear a hat as her daughter had suggested, nor did she feel it was a good idea to try to disguise herself with sunglasses. A person wearing sunglasses at night would attract attention, precisely what she didn't want.

Once she reached the shopping center, she darted into Blockbuster, leaving Isobel's red Chevy Impala parked in the front. She was searching through the DVD section when she heard a man call out her name.

Carolyn shoved her hand inside her purse, clasped her department-issued Ruger, then dropped to her knees as she prepared to take aim. Before she got the gun out, she saw David Reynolds walking toward her, a broad smile on his handsome face. So he wouldn't know she'd almost shot him, she'd pulled a DVD off the bottom shelf and retrieved the paper with the other titles on it off the floor.

“Hi,” she said, standing up. “What are you doing in this neck of the woods?'

“We've missed you in Shoeffel's class,” David told her, dressed in a black turtleneck and a brown leather jacket. “I thought you'd dropped out. Judge Shoeffel said there was a death in your family. Was it someone close?”

“An uncle,” Carolyn said, closing the flap on her purse. “Don't you live in Thousand Oaks?” Thousand Oaks was a small city not far from Ventura.

“Yeah,” David said. “One of my buddies goes to Caltech, though. He invited me to spend the weekend with him. Hey,” he added, “if you have some time on your hands, why don't you stop by his house later tonight? A few of us are going to kick back, watch a movie, have a few beers, then soak in the Jacuzzi. These are nice people, Carolyn. You look like you could use a few laughs.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” she said, acting disappointed. “Maybe another time.”

He ran his fingers through his long hair. “That was insensitive of me,” he said. “You just lost a loved one. Did your uncle live here in Pasadena?”

“Yes,” Carolyn said. “I've been staying with the family.”

“Was he a young man? Did he have children?”

“No,” she said, “he was in his sixties. No children. Heavy smoker, you know. I've been trying to help my aunt sort some things out. My kids are getting restless, so we're going to head for home.” She didn't want to reveal too much, even to a classmate from law school. People didn't mean any harm, but everyone talked. One thing led to another. “I'll see you in class next week,” she said. “Hopefully, I can catch up.”

She saw David looking at the large stack of DVDs in her hands. “Because we're leaving,” she lied, “my aunt asked me to pick up some movies. She won't even leave the house yet.”

“Taking her husband's death pretty hard, huh?” David said, reaching out. “Here, let me carry those for you.”

“Thanks,” Carolyn told him, “but there's a few more movies on the list. Nice seeing you. Have a good time with your friends.”

At least if she'd had to run into someone, they'd turned out to be harmless. To be extra cautious, Carolyn lingered in the aisles until she saw David exit out the front of the store.

 

“We found her,” the man said, leaping into the passenger seat of a black Nissan parked near the Ralph's supermarket on the opposite end of the strip center. “It's a good thing we changed our minds about hitting the market. I'm pretty sure she's packing.” He watched as Carolyn exited Blockbuster, then entered the Savon drugstore next door. “I knew she was lying about driving back to Ventura tonight.”