Hear No Evil (30 page)

“Now, now, Owen, don’t do that. I’ll have somebody there if I have to come do it myself.”

“Alvin, I want it in place by
tonight
.”

“I’ll come do it myself, even if it’s overtime. I swear it. You have my solemn word.”

Owen could no longer see Eden and Peyton through the window. For no reason, he was getting an eerie, anxious feeling, as if tiny ants ran beneath his skin.

“Words are cheap, Alvin,” he said and hung up.

He stood to go check on Eden’s whereabouts, but then he heard the back door open and close and the sound of her voice in the kitchen. He heard Peyton say something about Henry.

He sighed, sat down again, and picked up the phone. His gaze lingered on the bed where he and Eden had made love last night. Pacing the room, he dialed Mulcahy’s number again.

Mulcahy answered this time, on the second ring. “I was just going to call you,” he said in his dour voice.

Owen stopped pacing. “Why? You got something new?”

“Not much,” Mulcahy said. “We sent a pair of men out to the Wheaton place this morning. They couldn’t raise anybody. Place seemed deserted.”

“That’s all?”

“They went back later. There was a truck parked in the drive this time. They saw a man at the window, but nobody answered the door. After about ten minutes, a rottweiler came out of somewhere. It was in a bad mood. They left. Tried again an hour later. Same thing.”

“Did they run the truck’s plate through DMV?”

“Yeah. Registered to a William Stanek. He doesn’t seem to want to talk to us.”

“Did they try the phone?”

“All they got was an answering machine. Which is weird. The place is a mess, a wreck. Not the kind of place you’d expect to have fancy phone options.”

“Standard message?” Owen asked, frowning.

“Standard. ‘You have reached such-and-such a number. Nobody’s here now. Leave your message.’ That’s it.”

“Shit,” Owen muttered.

“Whoever’s in there’s not going to talk to us, and we can’t make him talk without a subpoena. We can’t get a subpoena without probable cause. Has the kid said anything?”

Owen rose from the bed and started pacing. He told Mulcahy of the conversation with Theresa Bigby about Mrs. Stangblood, told him of how Peyton had become hysterical when Eden asked her about the farm, the plane, the guns.

He drew a deep breath. He could feel the imaginary ants swarming under his skin again.

“We think Mimi’s been calling here,” Owen said. He told about Mimi’s ruined voice, the calls from the woman claiming to be Constance and what she’d said about the plane and Miami. “We’ve got them on tape,” he finished. “For what it’s worth.”

Mulcahy was silent for a long moment. Then he said, “It’s interesting. But as far as the law’s concerned, it’s not worth crap.”

“I know,” Owen said grimly.

“But I want to hear the tapes.”

“I’ll send them.”

“Keep the phone near,” Mulcahy said. “I’ll stay in touch.”

•  •  •

When Drace came back to the van after his preliminary scouting of Jessie’s house, he was in high spirits.

“It’s a piece of cake,” he told Raylene. “I’ll keep watch over there until they go out. Then I’ll get inside and call you from there. We’ll take them when they get back.”

“Inside?” Raylene asked, fear in her eyes. She touched his sleeve.

Mimi lay silent and motionless on the cot. Either she had fallen asleep or passed out again.

Drace put his hand over Raylene’s. “It’s the best way. We’ve got to get them to talk. To find out how much they know. And if they’ve told anyone else.”

“Can you get in?” Raylene’s face was full of care and concern. “What if there’s an alarm system or something?”

“There’s not,” he said. He patted his binocular case. “I scoped it out.”

“What if they don’t come out?” she asked.

“We’ll wait until they’re in bed and go in after them,” he said. “It’s not a problem. The place is a crackerbox. Just like Brodnik’s.”

Raylene didn’t look reassured.

“And guess what?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“What?” she asked, her lovely face paling.

“I saw Peyton. Outside. With a woman. It must be the sister.”

They both looked at Mimi’s motionless body. Drace knew what Raylene was thinking. She wished he’d killed Peyton and the sister when he’d seen them and that they could kill Mimi now.

“I couldn’t get a clear shot at the third one, the man,” he soothed her. “I only saw him once, on the porch. Besides, we need to find out what they know.
Having our little hostage here will help. They’ll be more talkative.”

Raylene looked almost petulant. “I wish it was over.”

He ran his forefinger along her satiny lower lip. “It won’t be long now, puss,” he promised.

Then he kissed her and bid her good-bye. For just a little while.

Early that evening, as Eden got Peyton ready to visit Jessie, a white GuardLok truck pulled into the yard.

Alvin Swinnerton swaggered in, lugging his toolbox and hearty with his own virtue. “See?” he said. “I came myself, even though it’s overtime.”

He assured them they could go to the hospital and he would have everything in place by the time they got back.

“I’ll put the control panels right beside the doors,” he said, laying his hand on the wall next to the light switch at the entrance. “You know how it works, Owen. Just give me a code number to program. Four digits. And when you come in, hit it.”

“Pick a number,” Owen told Eden. A number came into her mind. She forced herself to sound brisk and businesslike. “How about one-two-one-four?”

Swinnerton nodded and repeated it. He had no way of knowing that she had picked it because it was Mimi’s birthday—the fourteenth of December.

“When you get home, it’ll be set,” Alvin Swinnerton said. “Ready to go. Ain’t gonna be nobody get in that you don’t want in. When this thing goes off, it immediately signals us and we send the police department out, they come in a flash. You’re safe as can be.”

“Wonderful,” Eden said brightly. She darted Owen a look that said,
See? Now there’s nothing to worry about
.

He looked unconvinced, slightly stormy. For no particular reason he had been uneasy all afternoon.

“Come on,” she said to Peyton. “Let’s go see Granny.” She reached out, took the child’s small, warm hand in hers, and led her from the house.

The blood thundered in Drace’s ears. In disbelief he’d watched the truck pull up to the house and park. He could clearly see the sign on the side,
GUARDLOK SECURITY
. In dismay he’d seen the overweight, uniformed man clamber from the truck carrying his tools.

Drace had wanted to be able to get inside the house with no complications, and now the fat bastard was going to install a security system before Drace’s very eyes—it was the stuff of nightmares, a terrible cosmic joke.

What could he do? Could he walk up to the house while daylight still lit the sky and try to take everyone prisoner now, by himself? Or just throw open the door and start shooting, hoping to take them down one by one?

Christ, Drace thought in despair, he had to do
something
—he couldn’t just hide in the shadows and watch while the fat man secured the house against attack.

And then the gods smiled on him. A tall gray-haired man, the woman, and kid got into the car. He thought of trying to take them down by sniper fire, but he didn’t have a clear shot and he only had the twenty-two, and the fat bastard was still in the house, free to call for help.

He gritted his teeth. He would have to improvise, follow his gut instincts. He waited until the car drove off and was out of sight. Then he walked around the house, a wide semicircle. He descended a small ravine and followed
it until he could emerge at the edge of the woods by the curve of the drive.

He strolled down the driveway easily, his rifle casually over his shoulder, like a young hunter stopping at a house to ask permission to shoot on the property.

He mounted the steps of the front porch quietly. The lights were on inside, and he could not see the man, but he could hear a radio loudly playing country music.

Drace looked about. The main road was not visible from here, not even a glimpse of it. From the trees came the chatter of starlings noisily roosting for the night. He opened the screen door, raised his rifle, and entered the house.

A portable radio sat on the living-room floor, playing a staticky version of Garth Brooks’s warbling “The Dance.” From down the hall came the sound of an electric drill. Light from a room, a bedroom perhaps, spilled out into the hall. He walked toward it.

He stopped at the edge of the door, stole a glance inside. The fat man was engrossed in mounting a control box unit in a closet. His back was to Drace. He wore a khaki uniform that stretched tightly over his wide, womanish hips.

He sang along with the radio in a slightly out-of-tune tenor voice. Drace silently raised the barrel and sighted along it, aiming at the wrinkle in the man’s thick neck near the base of his skull.

He squeezed the trigger. The rifle crashed and kicked. The man gave a gargled gasp and his blood spattered and gushed onto the clothes in the closet in bright red streamers.

The control unit fell to the floor with a clang, and the man staggered backward, grasping convulsively at a woman’s white dress on a hanger. Then he fell, settling
into the perfect stillness of death, the dress still in his hand, blotched now with crimson.

Drace stepped backward so he wouldn’t stain his boots. His heart was beating with violent swiftness. He turned from the room and went back into the living room where he’d seen a telephone.

He dialed the number of the cell phone in the van. His hand was steady.

Raylene answered, sounding worried and nervous.

“It’s me,” Drace said. “I’m in the house. Something’s happened. Get here fast as you can.”

Jessie was glowering malevolently at a square of orange Jell-O on her tray when Eden, Owen, and Peyton came to her room. Eden had worked all afternoon with Peyton to help the child overcome her fear of the hospital.

Now Peyton clutched a small vase of flowers that they had bought for Jessie at the grocery store. “Look what I got for you, Granny,” she said with shy pride, offering them up.

“Ain’t they pretty?” beamed Jessie. “Thank you, honey. Eden, take these and set ’em on the dresser, so I can look right at ’em. Owen, flush this damn Jell-O down the toilet before I sling it at the wall.”

Owen smiled and removed the offending Jell-O. Peyton followed him into the bathroom to watch its interesting demise.

Jessie cocked her head in the direction of the bathroom. “Has she taken any more to him yet?”

Eden sighed. “Not really. I don’t think she likes men in general. Probably because of Mimi’s boyfriends.”

Jessie patted the perfect braided crown of her hair.
“Mimi’s going to settle down after this. She’ll be a proper mama to that little gal.”

“Jessie,” Eden warned, “you promised not to talk about that.”

“Not in front of Peyton,” Jessie said righteously. “And I didn’t. But here’s my honeyduck. You want to come up and sit by Granny? My, what a nice haircut you got.”

Owen lifted Peyton to sit on the edge of Jessie’s bed. “It’s like Eden’s,” Peyton said proudly. She pointed at her ears. “And I got new earrings. They’re like Eden’s, too.”

“Hmm,” said Jessie. “You don’t try to be like Eden. You be your own sweet self instead.”

“I
am
like her,” said Peyton. “I’m going to be an actress, too. I’m going to do voices. Meoww. Meeowwwr. That’s a cat.”

“It’s an excellent cat,” Eden said, for it was true. The child had talent.

“Eden,” Jessie said, “don’t try to give this little girl a big head. Don’t try to make her over in your own image.”

Eden bit back a reply and was glad that Peyton chattered on. “I know a secret,” Peyton said, grinning at Jessie mischievously.

Jessie feigned delight at the news. “A secret? Tell Grannie.”

“I got to whisper it,” said Peyton. Jessie smiled at the sweetness of the gesture as Peyton leaned and whispered into her ear.

Jessie’s smile instantly dropped from her lips, and she shot Owen a killing glance. “A security system? I don’t want no security system. No sir!”

“Peyton!” Eden scolded. “I told you it was a secret.”

“You didn’t say not to tell it to
her
,” Peyton argued.

“We’ll discuss this later, young lady,” Eden told her.

“I don’t want all those bells and sirens in my house,” Jessie said stubbornly.

Owen’s face went implacable. “You got ’em. Alvin Swinnerton’s installing it right now.”

“I’ll call him and tell him to get out of my house,” Jessie said, stretching her hand toward the phone.

Owen set the phone out of her reach.

“Then I’ll call him tomorrow and tell him to go back and rip it out,” Jessie insisted. “I don’t like them things. You make one mistake, you set one button wrong, and it sounds like the Last Judgment’s coming down on you.”

“Jessie, it’s a perfectly simple system,” Owen said. “You’ll get used to it in no time. And if you don’t, just deactivate it. But I want it on while Eden and Peyton are there. The house is isolated, and you know it.”

Jessie crossed her arms again and said nothing.

“Besides,” he added, “you asked me to watch out for them. The system’s part of it.”

Jessie looked placated, but not completely. “It’ll scare the Holy Ghost right out of the house.”

“A ghost lives there?” Peyton asked in a small voice.

“No, Peyton, absolutely not,” Eden said firmly. “Granny made a joke, that’s all. Let’s go downstairs. I’ll buy you an ice-cream sandwich out of the machine.”

Peyton, her expression nervous, nodded. She stretched out her arms and Eden lifted her down from the bed and set her on the ground. They left the room hand in hand.

Jessie stared after them. “The two of them are getting mighty thick.” She sighed. “That’s good, I guess. That’s good.”

There was weariness in her voice. Owen narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you all right?”

She sighed again and shook her head, the corners of her mouth turned down. “I’m fine. Only—”