Every Now and Then
By:
Kenda
Every Now and Then is
a sequel to the novel, Precious Cargo.
~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Although
I'm still reluctant to admit it, looking back on it now maybe Rick is
right. Maybe it was a dumb thing to
do. Or at least dumb in the sense that
I didn't confide in him as to where I was going. Nor did I call after I got there and realized I could use his
help. If our positions were reversed, I
suppose I'd be pretty ticked off, too.
But, a lot of the reasons he's so upset are exactly the reasons why I
couldn't talk to him about the whole thing in the first place. I knew he wouldn't understand why I so
willingly offered her my help. I knew
he'd only give me grief over that decision.
And possibly, he should have.
But regardless of what Rick would have said, I'd have gone anyway. No argument he could have offered would have
changed my mind. I'd have gone anyway,
and the results would have been the same.
And
I suppose that's why he's so angry.
S&S S&S S&S
S&S S&S
The
last person I was expecting to hear from that night in
Mid-January, 1997, was Janet Fowler. As in Janet Fowler, my ex-wife. Despite the fact our marriage had more or
less ended on amiable terms almost two years earlier, I hadn't seen her or
talked to her since I'd departed from Seattle on the Precious Cargo in
May of 1995.
I'd
returned to the city of my birth, and the only place I've ever really thought
of as home, San Diego, California. Rick
and I reopened Simon and Simon Investigations shortly after my arrival. The first couple months were lean, but
within a short period of time we reestablished ourselves with old clients and
old contacts, while successfully seeking out new clients and new contacts. Our calendar was soon full, and our bank
account once again growing.
I
hadn't had reason to look back in a long time.
Until that night. Until the
phone rang and it was Janet on the other end.
Her
voice was tentative and small, as though she wasn't sure what my reaction would
be.
"AJaay?"
To
be honest with you, she was the farthest person from my mind when I crossed my
kitchen floor and snared the phone on the second ring. She didn't have to identify herself. Just the way she said my name immediately
told me who my caller was. Despite
having lived more of her adult life outside the state of Florida than within
its boundaries, she never had lost that hint of a Southern accent that would
occasionally slip through on some words.
When she wasn't consciously thinking about it, my name was one of those
words. At those times she would
emphasize the second letter, dragging out the J sound in a way that I'd always
found amusing...and sexy, back in the days when thoughts of sex and Janet were
often one in my mind.
Although
I had no Southern accent to cover, I doubt I was able to keep the surprise out
of my voice.
"Janet?"
"Yes,
A.J., it's...it's Janet."
My
first thought was something had happened to her father. Myron had stayed in touch with me since the divorce,
calling me once or twice a year to see how I was doing and to shoot the bull
about Simon and Simon. My former
father-in-law, as well as one-time boss, hadn't lost his love for the P.I.
profession. Although he now spent more
time at the racetrack than he did on stakeouts, he still loved to experience
the job vicariously. Therefore, I was
pretty sure Janet would call me if ill health, an accident, or death were to
befall the seventy-four year old man.
"Is
everything okay?" I asked. "Has something happened to Myron?"
Evidently
Janet's thoughts weren't running in the same direction as mine. She was momentarily confused.
"Daddy? No.
No, nothing's happened to Daddy.
Why would you think something's..."
She
broke off there. I believe she realized
then that I was hard pressed to come up with any other reason for her call.
"Oh...oh,
hum, no. No, A.J. Daddy's fine. As a matter of fact, I just returned from Florida a few days ago. I flew down and spent two weeks with
him."
"That's
nice." I well remembered Seattle's
winters. "You picked a good time
of year to get away."
She
chuckled, and I could almost see her parting the draperies with a hand. "Yes, I did. It's snowing out right now. I'd say there's already three inches
on the ground."
Despite
the pristine mental picture her words painted, I well remembered having to get
up before dawn on many a winter day to shovel our driveway and sidewalks just
so we could make it to work on time. It
was abundantly satisfying to know if I walked out my door right at that moment
I wouldn't even need to put on a lightweight jacket, let alone a hat and
gloves.
It
was almost as if she'd read my thoughts when she added, "But I know you
don't miss it one bit."
It
surprised me how much that one sentence hurt.
Hurt because, although we hadn't spoken to each other in almost two
years, she still knew me so well.
Sometimes it's comforting to have someone know you in such an intimate
way they can anticipate what your reaction will be to every aspect of
life. That's how well Janet had known
me. I don't think I was prepared to
find out that's how well she still knew me.
"No,
no I don't miss it," was all I said in return.
A
long, awkward pause followed. I'd be
lying if I didn't admit there wasn't plenty of questions I could have asked,
and plenty of topics I could have brought up.
After all, we hadn't spoken in twenty months. But she was the one who made the phone call. I wasn't about to give her the impression
that in any way, shape, or form did this contact on her part mean anything to
me.
"So,
hum...how are things?" She asked.
"Fine. Things are fine."
"Is
your mom okay?"
"Yeah,
she's fine. Keeping busy with more
activities and projects than I can name.
You know Mom."
I
could tell she was smiling when she replied with warmth, "Yes, I know your mother."
I
suspected Janet and Mom still kept in contact with one another just like Myron
and I did, but I never asked my mother about it, and she had never volunteered
any information of that nature. But she
and Janet shared a friendship bordering a mother/daughter relationship that
went back over twenty years now, therefore it wouldn't have come as a shock to
discover the two of them talked on the phone every so often, or exchanged
letters and greeting cards.
"And
how's...how's Rick?"
Rick
had long been a sore subject between us, and I suppose even a portion of why
we'd divorced.
"He's
fine, too. Same old Rick."
She
let that subject drop, which was just as well.
I'm sure she could have come up with at least a hundred smart remarks to
my, "Same old Rick," statement.
"And
Toby?" She inquired about our
basset hound that had come to live with me after the divorce. "How's he doing?"
I
glanced down at the sausage-round dog. He was slumbering on the throw rug by
the kitchen door. "He's okay. Sleeping as usual. When he's not doing that, then he's eating."
Janet
laughed at the joke we'd so often shared in regards to our unambitious hound.
"Doesn't
sound as though much has changed."
I
looked around my house on the Grand Canal.
I'd done some redecorating since I'd purchased it back from Rick. As a matter of fact, I had just completed
giving every room an overhaul. I'd
started with the kitchen when I'd first returned, worked my way through the
downstairs, and had just finished painting and wallpapering the upstairs the
previous week. New carpeting was due
to arrive within the coming month, new furniture for the den and living room
right along with it.
"Some
things have changed," I said to Janet,
"but I suppose more than not they've stayed the same."
There
was hesitation on her part before she asked her next question. "And you're...happy? I mean, things are going good for you?"
I
thought about that a moment. It's not
very often anyone comes right out and asks you if you're happy. But after a few seconds of reflection I
could honestly say I was. Had I
achieved everything I wanted out of life?
No. Had I met every goal I'd set
for myself? No. Had I experienced some disappointing
failures and painful times? You
bet. I can't imagine that any of us
don't. But I had come to terms with all
those things in recent months and knew that, more often than not, the good
outweighed the bad.
"Yes,
Janet, I'm happy."
"I'm
glad," she said, and I could tell she really meant it. "I never...well I never wanted to cause
you pain. You're the last person I
would ever intentionally hurt."
"I
know."
I
didn't tell her she needn't take all the blame for our failed marriage, I had
caused us just as many problems as she had.
I suppose I should have voiced that assurance to her, but right at the
moment my mind was occupied with other concerns. It was obvious to me there was more to this phone call than the
desire to catch up on old times with the ex-husband. She sounded tired, stressed, and worried. As though she was carrying the weight of the
world on her shoulders and didn't know where else to turn for help.
"Janet,
what's wrong?"
"Wrong?"
"You
sound upset. Are you all right?"
"Yes,
A.J., I'm fine. I just...I have sort of
a problem and I...well the reason I called was because I need you to recommend
a good P.I. to me. One who lives up
here in Seattle, of course."
Finally
something about this phone call made sense.
Naturally she'd turn to me for a recommendation regarding a Seattle P.I.
Much to my former wife's dismay, I had gotten involved in private investigation
work again while employed at the law firm of Bloomdecker, Hershaw, and
Clark. I had come in contact with a
number of Seattle private investigators during that time. Those that I didn't know personally, I knew
by reputation.
I
was all business now and presumed her need involved some case she was working
on for the D.A.'s office, where she was the chief prosecutor. I'll admit I was a little surprised she'd
need to call me for such advice.
Generally attorneys have a pool of two or three reputable P.I.'s they
draw from when circumstances warrant such a move.
"I
assume this is for work? For the D.A.'s
office? Without breaching any ethics
can you tell me what kind of case it's pertaining to?"
"No,
A.J. No. What I mean is, yes I can tell you what the case is about, but
no, it's not for the D.A.'s office. It
has nothing to do with work. This
is...this is personal."
"Oh. Oh, I see."
I
stopped there, waiting to hear what and how much she was going to reveal to
me.
"I...A.J.,
I'm being stalked."
"You're
what?"
"I'm
being stalked."
I
rounded the counter and hiked myself up on a stool. I got the sudden feeling this was going to be a much longer
conversation than I had originally presumed.
"Start
at the beginning," I said calmly.
"Tell me everything that's been going on."
"Oh,
A.J., I...you don't know how much I appreciate you taking the time to talk to
me. You don't know how much I
need...well how much I need a friend right now."
"Yes
I do, Janet," I soothed. "If
you recall, there was a time in my life when I needed a friend and you were the
one who was there to listen."
Her,
"I know," was quiet and reflective of all that had caused us to
travel full-circle. She had been the
person I turned to when the pain of Erica Garcia's murder threatened to be my
undoing. Our marriage was a direct
result of all Janet had so willingly offered me back then.
"Let
me repay you that debt now," I said.
"Tell me what's happening."
She
took a deep breath and began. "It
started this past fall. On October
fifteenth. I recall the date because I
came home late from a banquet given in honor of a retiring judge. I was about halfway to the house when I
thought I was being followed. I
remembered what you and Daddy always told me to do if I found myself in such a
situation, so I drove around a little bit.
I took several different routes, but he stayed with me. I was just getting ready to go to the
nearest police station when he passed me and drove off into the night. I thought then that I was mistaken. That he just happened to be someone going my
way. But the next morning he was parked
outside my house."
"And
it was the same guy?"
"At
the time I didn't know for certain, but I suspected it was. From there it's escalated. Sometimes he follows me to work or from
work, sometimes he parks outside my house, sometimes I'll be having lunch with
a friend and see him standing across the street from the restaurant, and
now...well lately my phone's been ringing at all hours of the day and
night. When I answer it he...he tells
me what he's going to do to me."
I
didn't ask her to go into detail. I
could easily imagine what type of threats the man was making.
"What
happens if you don't answer the phone?"
"He
leaves the same type of messages on the answering machine. It's gotten to the point where I have no
choice but to leave the phone off the hook.
He's even started calling me at work, A.J."
The
guy had to be pretty bold, or absolutely stupid, to be calling a district
attorney at work and making obscene threats to her.
"What
about the police?" I asked. "I assume you've talked to them about
this?"
"Yes,
I have. Numerous times. They think he must have a scanner in his
car. Every time I make a complaint
about him he disappears before they get here.
They've had me try calling in on another line so my report won't be
broadcast, they've tried staking out my house and office, they've tried
everything they can think to, but they just can't seem to catch the guy. He...he seems to have some kind of sixth
sense, some kind of uncanny ability that allows him to know the officers’ every
move. That's why I went to
Daddy's. I thought if I were away for a
couple weeks he'd tire of his game and leave.
Pretty naive, huh?"
"No
it wasn't," I assured her.
"If nothing else it was worth a try."
"The
police have provided me with an escort to and from work, but he never shows up
when one of them is with me. When we
call the whole thing off he's back again."
"And
you have no idea who he is?"
"No,
absolutely none. I've never gotten a
good look at his face, but I don't think I know him."
Although
it isn't unheard of, a woman being stalked by a complete stranger is fairly
unusual. Generally such a crime is
committed by a former boyfriend or ex-husband who can't come to terms with the
end of the relationship.
"I'm
to the point where I feel I have no choice but to hire some kind of body
guard," Janet said. "As well
as someone who can determine who this guy is in a way the police don't seem to
be able to. That's why I called you. I need to know what P.I. in the Seattle area
would be good at this type of job.
I...I'm so scared, A.J. I'm so
scared."
She
started crying then, letting out all the fear and frustration I knew she'd been
keeping bottled up for months. I could
easily guess she'd let very few people in on what was happening. She had always been extremely private about
her personal life. I doubted her father
even knew the trouble she was currently experiencing. Later, I would find out I
was correct.
"Janet,
don't cry. Don't cry, babe. It'll be okay." I didn't give it any conscious thought when
I called her 'babe.’ It was a pet name
that went all the way back to our years together in Florida. For some strange reason using it again
didn't seem nearly as out of place as it should have.
It took her a while to calm down. I could hear her blow her nose, then she
apologized to me for getting so upset, just as I knew she would.
"Don't
worry about it," I said.
"Hey, if you can't call and cry on your ex-husband's shoulder,
whose shoulder can you cry on?"
That
made her laugh like I knew it would.
"Oh, A.J.," she scolded in jest, "what am I going to do
with you?"
"Probably
the same thing you did with me two years ago," I joked. "Kick me out."
"I
didn't kick you out!" She
protested, and she was right. She
hadn't. When the time came to dissolve
our marriage I left on my own accord.
"I
was teasing you, Janet. You're right.
You didn't kick me out. I found my way
to the door all by myself."
There
was an uncomfortable pause that spoke of the pain we both still carried within
over the demise of our marriage. I
quickly used words to cover it over.
"Listen,
Janet, I'm coming up there."
"Oh,
A.J., no. No. I couldn't ask you to do that."
"You
didn't ask me, I volunteered. That is
unless...unless you'd prefer I don't."
"No,
no, it isn't that. It's not that at
all. I just...well it wasn't my
intention for you to make such an offer.
I simply called to see if you could recommend someone."
"I
realize that. And I am recommending
someone. Me."
"A.J.,
I--"
"Janet,
I don't mind. I don't mind at all. If it's okay with you then I'll fly up
tomorrow. If you'd rather I not, for
whatever reason, just say so."
"I...if
you're sure. If you're certain I'm not
inconveniencing you in any way then yes, A.J....yes, I'd like it if you came
up." The relief in her voice was
easy to detect. "But only if you'll
let me hire you."
"Janet--"
"No,
don't say it. I won't let you come
unless I hire you. Signed contract and
all. If you're coming up here then it's
because you're working for me. I won't
have it any other way."
I
could see the wisdom behind her words, and knew I'd demand the same of her if I
were ever in need of her services as an attorney.
"All
right. Signed contract and all."
"And
no breaks either. I mean in regards to
the fee."
"Okay,
no breaks," I agreed. How well I
suddenly remembered her stubbornness.
We
hung up shortly thereafter. I could
hear her smile when I reminded her to lock all the doors, keep the draperies
pulled, set her home security system, and turn on the outside lights. I told her I'd call her the next morning to
let her know what time my flight was arriving.
I planned to rent a car at the airport, then be waiting to escort her
home when she came out of work.
"A.J.,
I...I don't know how to thank you."
"No
thanks is necessary, Janet."
"Somehow
I knew you'd say that," she offered right before she hung up the phone.
And
somehow I knew she'd say that.
S&S S&S S&S
S&S S&S
I
stood in my galley starin' at the phone in my hand and hearing the 'buzz, buzz,
buzz,' of a line that's been disconnected.
I had no idea what to make of the call I'd received from my brother.
I
had just poured milk on my Wheaties when the phone rang. For a brief second I thought of lettin' the
answering machine pick it up so my cereal wouldn't get soggy, but at that time
of the morning it was unlikely my caller would be anyone other than Mom or
A.J.
"Yo?" I said in way of greeting around my spoon.
"Rick,
it's me. Sorry to interrupt your
breakfast."
"No
big deal. Just don't mind me if I keep
right on eating. You know how I hate soggy cereal."
"Go
ahead, eat," A.J. said. "This won't take long anyway. Listen, I'm going to be gone for a few days
so--"
I
had to admire the way he tried to breeze on through relayin' that
information. As though I wouldn't find
it odd that out of the clear blue he suddenly felt the need for a little vacation.
"Where
you goin'?" I asked as I bent over
my bowl.
"Uh...to
visit a friend. We don't have much
happening at the office right now so I don't think--"
"When
are you leavin'?"
"Hum...in
a couple hours."
"A
couple hours?"
"Yeah."
His
'yeah,' was nonchalant and carefree as if he always called me on a moment's
notice to say he was leaving in a couple hours and would be gone for a few
days.
In
my best, demanding big brother voice I barked,
"A.J., what's goin' on here?"
And
in his best, innocent little brother voice he answered, "Nothing. Nothing's going on. I'm
just going to be gone for a few days, that's all."
"What
about Toby?"
"Mr.
Gorman's going to take care of him for me."
"Mr.
Gorman?"
"Yes."
"You
can bring him over here. He can stay
with me and Rex, ya' know."
"Yeah,
I know. And thanks for the offer, but
it's not necessary. Mr. Gorman walks
three or four times a day ever since he had that heart bypass surgery last
year, so he said taking Toby along was no trouble. He’ll fill Toby’s food and
water dishes every day for me, too."
Now
that was weird. Not that old man
Gorman wouldn't take good care of Toby, and overall Toby doesn't need much taking
care of to begin with, but it was weird that A.J. wasn't bringing the dog over
to my place. He always had before
whenever he was going to be out of town.
I got the distinct impression my sibling didn't want to see me face to
face before he left for wherever it was he was going. That impression was hammered home even more when A.J. quickly
said his goodbyes. It was as if he
didn't want to be on the phone with me any longer than necessary for fear I'd
ask him questions he had no desire to answer.
I
hung up the phone and pushed my cereal bowl aside. I mentally reviewed what little I had learned from our brief
conversation. A.J. was leaving in a
couple hours to go visit a friend and would be gone a few days. Period.
And every single bit of this sudden trip was so far out of character for
him I began to wonder if it really had been my brother I was just
talking to.
I
mulled over gettin' in my truck and driving to his place before he left, but
what the hell was I gonna say?
"Hey, A.J., you can't leave until you tell me where you're
goin'!"
No,
I couldn't say that. In the first
place, I had no right, and in the second place my brother was forty-seven years
old. Not exactly a kid anymore, and
certainly not obligated to answer to me for any reason. Plus we had always respected each other's
privacy. Running Simon and Simon like
we do means we're together more than we're not during some weeks. Now we've always been close, so that's not
necessarily a bad thing, but we'd both be lyin' if we didn't say we need some
space from each other as well. And to
that extent we rarely intrude on one another's time away from the office, or
pry into one another's personal affairs.
I
tried to shrug the whole thing off by tellin' myself A.J. would explain everything
once he returned from wherever it was he was goin.’ The nagging questions stayed with me, however, as I washed my
breakfast dishes, made my bed, and showered. It's as I was shaving that
revelation dawned.
A.J.
had been dating a hell of a sexy gal by the name of Lauren Albright for a
little more than year now. She had two
young sons from a previous marriage who were crazy about my brother. For some reason I was suddenly certain this
mysterious trip had to do with Lauren.
I
bet he's takin' her away somewhere to ask her to marry him. He always has been a romantic. Or maybe he's already asked her and they're
goin' outta town to get hitched. That'd
be somethin' A.J. would do considerin' both he and Lauren have already been
married once. Yeah, I can picture it
now. Some quiet little seaside town,
just the two of them for the
next few days, and then when they come
back he'll tell me and Mom they tied the knot.
I
reached for my toothbrush, totally at peace with my self-made explanation.
It
all makes sense. With Mom bein' gone
right now on that cruise to the Bahamas, and then plannin' to visit relatives
in Florida for another three weeks, A.J. can go off and get married without her
bein' the wiser. Not that Mom won't be
thrilled. She loves Lauren, and is nuts
about Shane and Tanner, but she'd want to make a big deal over the whole thing
and throw 'em some kinda reception filled with family and friends. I know A.J. wouldn't want that the second
time around. I've got a feelin' he just
wants something quiet and unobtrusive.
Regardless of what he might say, I know he's still smartin' from
everything Janet did to him. The last
thing A.J. would want is to have some big deal made over another marriage.
I
can honestly say it didn't bother me in the slightest that A.J. didn't confide
his plans in me. I couldn't blame him
and Lauren for wantin' to make this a private affair. Once Mom got back from her trip we'd take them out for a nice
dinner. Maybe she and I could get them
a gift certificate to some hotel or resort somewhere, and I'd offer to take the
boys one weekend so they could make use of it. I briefly wondered what their
plans were in terms of whose house they were gonna live in and the like, then
pushed those thoughts aside as I left for work.
A.J.
and Lauren crossed my mind on several occasions that day. Each time they did I mentally wished 'em
good luck.
S&S S&S S&S
S&S S&S
I've
always hated parking garages. These
modern multi-level structures with their thick concrete support pillars, deep
blind corners, and dim lighting seem to be a breeding ground for men bent on
violent assaults of women. For just
that reason Rick and I continuously caution our mother to avoid making use of
them, especially at night. When Janet
and I were married I passed the same cautions on to her. Unfortunately, that ominous structure I
dislike so much is the only available vehicle accommodation for employees of
the District Attorney's Office of Seattle.
The
afternoon was giving way to early evening by the time I wound my rental car
seven stories up tight curves and sharp bends.
My
plane had touched down at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, referred to as
Sea-Tac by the locals, at ten minutes after one. I called Janet from a pay phone to let her know I'd arrived, and
to ask what time she planned to leave work.
"I
should be done around six," my ex-wife told me.
I
glanced at the people rushing by me laden with suitcases and carry-on
bags. "I'll be waiting for
you. What level are you parked
on?"
"Seven."
It
seemed strange to have to ask her the next question. "You still drive the BMW?"
"I
still drive a BMW," she acknowledged,
"but not the one you're familiar with. I sold it last year."
I
knew the mileage had to have been getting fairly high on Janet's ten-year-old
silver luxury sedan. Sounding more
like a husband than I intended to I said,
"Smart move."
If
she thought anything of my tone or words she didn't mention it. "It was
giving me problems on occasion. Anyway,
I'm driving a black one now. Black with
brown leather interior. It's a '96. Parked in section D."
"I'm
sure I'll find it. See you then."
"Okay. And, A.J.?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks
again. For everything."
I
smiled. "Don't thank me yet. I haven't done anything."
"Yes
you have," she responded softly before breaking our connection.
Forty-five
minutes later I was leaving the airport's parking lot in a deep blue Ford
Contour GL. I didn't want anything too
flashy, or too expensive, so settled on the comfortable new-model sedan that
offered plenty of leg room. I stopped
for a late lunch at a restaurant I'd been fond of when I'd lived up here.
The
Soup Kitchen was decorated in warm wood tones and dotted with small tables that
sat no more than four. They catered to
the noontime crowd from local offices with twenty-five different homemade soups
on their menu and a variety of cold sandwiches. It was two-twenty when I walked in. There couldn't have been more than seven people scattered
throughout the dining area. I placed my
order at the cafeteria-style counter.
By the time I walked to the other end to pay the cashier my cream of
broccoli soup, turkey sandwich, and a Coke were waiting for me on a red
tray.
I
chose an empty table in front of the wide picture window that faced the
sidewalk. I took my time eating while
watching white wet stuff spit, and drop, and flutter, as though it wasn't quite
sure if it was supposed to be snow or rain.
The sky was a deep slate gray, the afternoon already growing dim. How well I remembered the perpetual gloom
and precipitation of Seattle in January.
It had been sunny and sixty-eight degrees when I'd left San Diego that
morning. Why in the world anyone would
want to make his home in a northern climate was beyond this Southern California
native.
Businessmen
and women rushed by on the sidewalk hunched into their nondescript trench coats
while clutching briefcases to their sides as though their lives depended on all
that was contained within. I smiled
slightly as I glanced down at my blue jeans, maroon ski sweater, and tennis
shoes. When I lived up here I was one
of them. One of those nameless,
faceless people in an all-weather trench coat.
An all-weather trench coat that if it had gotten mixed up in a group of
trench coats I'd have had no hope of identifying again as mine. God, I had been so unhappy. So unhappy, and in so many ways unsuited to
the white-collar, nine to five lifestyle.
I
realize now that revelation came as much a surprise to me, as it did to
everyone else. Especially my wife.
I
wiped my mouth with a napkin and left my dishes stacked neatly on the
tray. I grabbed my bulky jean jacket from
the back of my chair, slipped into it and snapped it closed. When I stepped out into the cold I berated
myself for not having brought a winter parka and hat. Granted, the jacket fell almost to my thighs, and with my heavy
sweater underneath provided enough warmth for short excursions between the car
and buildings. If I found I was going
to be out in the elements for long, however, I knew I'd need to stop somewhere
and buy something warmer. I'd been in
such a hurry to leave the house that morning I never thought to reach in the
far recesses of my closet for the winter coat I rarely had a use for. By the time I realized my error the Boeing
767 was passing over Portland. A little
too late to ask the pilot to turn around.
The
clock in the Contour registered fourteen minutes after three when I slid
in. With almost three hours to kill
before Janet got out of work I drove around, not really caring too much as to
which direction I headed in as I re-familiarized myself with the city. I flicked on the windshield wipers and let
them swish slowly back and forth. By
four-thirty I was fumbling for the switch that would cause the headlights to
awaken from their resting place in the car's streamlined frame.
At
five I paid the parking attendant at the garage that housed Janet's car. I tried to recall the man's name. He was the
same hulking African-American who'd held the position back when Janet and I
were married. I had always wondered how
his bulk fit in the narrow booth that protected him from the weather. I smiled at him when I handed him my
dollar. I never did come up with his
name before he allowed the wooden rail to raise that otherwise hindered my
path. I guess it didn't make any
difference one way or another. He
didn't seem to recognize me, nor did he return my smile. I suppose I was just another face in the sea
of faces he'd seen every day for twenty years now.
I
was lucky and found an available spot on level seven. Although I had hoped for something close to Janet's car, I was
several sections away. But beggars
can't be choosers, so I was satisfied to park and keep a careful, yet subtle
watch.
I
propped the folded Seattle Sound I'd purchased out of a news box at the airport
on the car's steering wheel. I perused
the front page without losing sight of what was going on around me. All was quiet in the damp concrete space for
the moment. I didn't see anyone
loitering about. As a matter of fact,
no activity whatsoever was occurring in the garage until I heard a car engine
purr to life about ten minutes after I'd arrived. I thought that was rather odd since I could see the elevator from
where I was and no one had disembarked from it. But then there was a stairwell around the corner. I knew it was possible someone had come up
that way. My current vantage point
wouldn't have allowed me to see a person entering in that manner.
With
as dangerous as parking garages are known to be I couldn't imagine why anyone
would want to make use of an isolated stairway, but certainly the person might
have gotten mixed up and exited the elevator on the wrong level, then chose to
race up the stairs to the correct one.
Rick's great for doing that.
Regardless of whether it's a parking garage with brightly numbered
levels, or the vast flat parking lot with neon letters that identify each row
at Jack Murphy Stadium where the Padres play, the man can never find his way
back to his vehicle. I learned a long
time ago to pay careful attention to whatever section, level, or block, he
leaves his truck in. If I don't, we
spend hours walking around in circles looking for it, arguing the whole while
as to where we each think it's located.
None
of that mattered anyway. The smooth
sound of what I identified as a Chrysler moved away from me. I turned to get a glimpse of no more than
its taillights before it vanished around a corner and headed down the ramp that
would eventually take it to the street.
The
elevator dinged to life shortly after that and kept on dinging as file clerks,
secretaries, and clerical workers ended their day. For the most part they were women in a variety of ages, sizes,
and colors. They usually walked off the
elevator in groups of twos or threes, but every so often one would exit
alone. Darkness had fallen around us
now. The dull yellow lights recessed in
the low ceiling cast too-short patches of illumination about the area, leaving
a fair amount of cars and corners in menacing shadows.
I
sat the paper on the passenger seat and watched. No one paid any attention to me.
Not one woman noticed the lone man observing her. That scared me. It scared me on Janet's behalf, on my mother's behalf, and on
behalf of every woman I had ever known and cared about. I realize it was the end of a long working
day. Their minds were on picking this
kid up from basketball practice, and this one up from day-care, while somehow
getting another one over to the library so he could get his school project done
before the next day's deadline.
In-between all that she needed to stop at the grocery store, put gas in
her car, get supper on the table, supervise homework, and do a load of laundry
before collapsing in bed to share some quiet time with her husband - if she
didn't fall asleep first.
Obviously
the last thing any of these women were worried about was me. Which was why it was good my reasons for
being there had nothing to do with committing a crime against any one of
them. All of them would have made for
vulnerable, easy targets.
It
was getting close to six p.m. when I once again took a closer look at my
surroundings. This time I didn't care
if I was subtle or not as I turned my head and craned my neck. I still didn't see anyone sitting in a
vehicle as though on the lookout for Janet.
Nor had any cars entered this level since I'd arrived. At this time of night people were more
interested in going as opposed to coming.
Men
began exiting the elevator now. I
recognized a few as being colleagues of Janet's. I hunched down in my seat a bit, not having any desire to
encounter those I knew. First of all, I
didn't want to go through the endless uncomfortable questions that were bound
to be prompted by my presence.
Generally a former husband doesn't show back up in his ex-wife's life two
years after the divorce. Especially
when the union had produced no children, therefore giving the man little, if
any reason, to stay in contact with the woman.
Secondly,
it was quite possible Janet's stalker was someone she worked with. As much as I hated to acknowledge that fact,
it's highly unusual for a woman to be shadowed by someone she doesn't know.
Yes, in the case of celebrities it happens on an all-too-frequent basis, but in
the case of private individuals the occurrence is rare. Granted, there are a lot of nuts in this
world, but most of them aren't going to make a full-time job out of stalking
you just because he or she admired you from afar in the produce section of the
grocery store.
At
the moment, however, Janet's male colleagues didn't appear to be interested in
anything other than going home. Engines
turned over one after another until a fine fog of exhaust fumes settled around
me like damp mist off a bay.
It
didn't come as a big shock when Janet's predicted six o'clock quitting time
stretched to six thirty. While staring
at the silent elevator door I told myself, No doubt she's still as absorbed
in her work as she was when I was married to her.
I
briefly wondered where that bitter thought had rooted its way up from, but
decided some things are best left unpondered.
Especially the painful happenings that eventually tore our marriage to
mix-matched shreds of cloth neither one of us had any hope of piecing together
again.
By
the digital clock in the Ford it was six forty-seven when she finally emerged
from the elevator. Other than appearing
to be a bit rushed, she was as together at the end of the day as I knew she
must have been at the beginning. Not a
hair was out of place, and her predictable tan trench coat was precisely buttoned
and belted. A silk scarf swirling with
bright reds, golds, and greens lay within the folds of the coat's lapels. Her makeup appeared fresh, but like always,
never overdone. I knew no matter how
closely I observed, I wouldn't find a run in her stockings or a scuff mark on
her expensive high heeled shoes.
Her
head turned toward me when she heard the buzz that indicated I'd opened the car
door but left the keys in the ignition.
She paused and offered me a small, uncertain smile. The same small, uncertain smile I offered
her in return as I, too, paused.
Those
first few seconds were awkward, uncomfortable, and painful, just like I had
known they'd be. We finally moved
toward one another like two twelve year olds being forced to cross a school
gymnasium and dance. Our steps were
small, stiff, and most of all, surprisingly enough, shy.
She
appraised me from head to toe while nodding.
"A.J."
"Janet,"
I nodded in return. "You look
good," I complimented, and I meant it.
Actually, she was gorgeous like she always had been. Time hadn't marred her natural beauty, I
doubt it ever will. My mind drifted
back over twenty years. I could see
both of us the first day we'd met in the Peerless Detective office in
Miami. It's an overused cliché I know,
but I fell in love with her the moment I laid eyes on her. It had only turned me on more, and made me
more determined to win her favor, when she played hard to get in the coming
weeks. My tenacity served me well. We'd become engaged the following year.
I reached toward her head, then drew my hand back rea