Long After Midnight (6 page)

“Well, if you do want to talk, and not to me or your grandmother, Alan will take you downtown to see someone at the precinct.”

“A shrink,” Joshua said with disgust.

“A doctor, like me and your grandfather,” she corrected. “A doctor who helps you understand yourself and what you’re feeling.”

“A shrink.”

“Whatever.” She stood up. “I’ll leave my door cracked open so I’ll hear you if you call out. Good night, Joshua.”

“G’night, Mom.”

She paused a moment outside the door before she went back to the living room to join Phyliss. She wished she could just go to bed, cover up her head and go to sleep and forget about Michael and that closed casket. She couldn’t really blame Joshua for not wanting to face it.

Only a little while longer.

“How is he?” Phyliss asked when Kate joined her in the living room.

“Hurt. Sad. Scared.” Kate grimaced. “Like us.”

“It will take time.”

Kate nodded. “But he’s not making it easy for himself. He’s trying to pretend he’s not feeling anything.”

“Maybe he’s the smart one,” Phyliss said. “We all have our own way of adjusting to the unacceptable. I wish I could close it out.”

“This way may come crashing down on him and everyone around him. If he’s too much for you, let me know.”

“It will be good for me to be busy.” Phyliss stood up and wearily arched her back. “And Joshua’s always a blessing. We’ll help heal each other.”

Kate watched her as she moved toward the front door. “Where are you going?”

“Just to turn out the porch light. Time to go to bed.” She opened the door and took a deep breath. “It smells good out here. Spring is coming. The house is so stuffy. All those people . . .”

“Nice people.”

“One of those nice people left their car at the curb down the street.”

“What?”

“There were so many of Michael’s friends from the precinct. Maybe one of them decided to go somewhere with one of his buddies.”

“And maybe it belongs to one of the neighbors.”

Phyliss shook her head. “I know all the neighbors’ cars. No, it’s one of Michael’s friends.”

Kate slowly moved toward the door.

The car parked in front of the Brocklemans’ home was a late-model Ford. At least, she thought it was a Ford. The car was parked three houses down from the nearest streetlight and was only a shadowy form.

And there was another shadow. Someone sitting behind the wheel.

She hurried to the hall closet and reached up for the safety gun box Michael had given her.

“What are you doing?” Phyliss asked.

“There’s someone in that car. It won’t hurt to check it out.” Kate punched in the combination and drew out the Lady Colt. She grabbed a raincoat from the closet and draped it over her arm, hiding the pistol. “You know all those stories Michael used to tell us about thieves targeting homes where there have been bereavements.”

She moved out of the house and down the steps.

“Kate.” Phyliss was standing on the doorstep behind her.

“It’s okay.” She grinned at her over her shoulder. “I’m not going to shoot anyone.”

“You have no business going out there. It’s foolish.”

It was foolish, Kate thought, even as she moved down the street toward the car. She should have called Alan. He would have sent someone. The man out there might be perfectly innocent, a friend of the Brocklemans. It was Noah Smith and his crazy insinuations that had prompted this idiocy.

The car window was rolled down and she could see sleek dark hair pulled back in a long ponytail, concave cheeks, silver gray eyes sunk beneath bushy black brows.

“Hi,” Kate said after she stopped beside the car. “Nice evening.”

“Real nice.” The man smiled. “A little cool. You should put that raincoat on if you’re going for a walk, Dr. Denby.”

She relaxed a little. “You know me?”

He shook his head. “But I knew Michael. I worked with him a few times. A great guy.”

“You’re with the force?”

“Oh, sorry, I should have introduced myself. I thought Alan told you who was going to have first watch.” He nodded. “I’m Todd Campbell.”

He didn’t look like a Todd. Now that she was closer, he appeared even more exotic than at first glance. Except for the gray eyes, he looked Native American. Dark hair, aquiline nose. He even wore some kind of beaded necklace around his neck. Not that his apparel should mean anything, she told herself. Cops on stakeout had to look like everyone else, and the faded jeans and chambray shirt he wore appeared clean and commonplace. “Alan sent you?”

“He wanted to make sure you weren’t bothered by reporters or any other scumbags.”

It made sense. The man was affable and appeared to be genuine. “Then you won’t mind if I check your credentials.”

“Mind?” He smiled and reached into his pocket. “I wish I could get my wife to be as careful. She lets anyone in the house.”

She took the badge and ID, scanned them, and handed them back to him. “Thank you.” She turned away and started back to the house. “You won’t care if I call Alan and check?”

“No way. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. Michael taught you right.” Todd waved cheerfully at Phyliss, who was standing in the vestibule, before bending down and turning on the radio. “You go to sleep and have a good night. I’ll be here to protect you.”

Phyliss was frowning as Kate reached her. “Everything all right?”

“Probably.” Of course it was all right. She was just being paranoid. “He says Alan sent him to watch the house.”

“That was nice of Alan.” She shut the door behind them and took the raincoat from Kate. “Now will you put up that gun? You looked like Sam Spade striding out there.”

“Who’s Sam Spade?”

“Forget it. Generation gap.” She took down the safety box and stared pointedly at the gun. “Let’s get that thing out of the way.”

“In a minute.” She reached for the phone on the hall table, opened her phone directory, and found Alan’s number. “I just want to check with Alan.”

“At this hour?”

“I’m sure everything’s all right. I’ll just feel better if I check.” She punched in the number. “It’s only a little after ten.”

“Hello,” Alan answered.

He sounded drowsy. Guilt flooded her. “I didn’t want to disturb you, Alan.”

“No, it’s okay.” He was obviously smothering a yawn. “Do you need to talk?”

“No, I just wanted to thank you for the man you stationed outside the house.”

There was a silence. Then, “What the hell are you talking about?” Alan sounded wide awake now.

Her hand tightened on the receiver. “Todd Campbell. The officer you asked to watch over the house.”

“I don’t know any Todd Campbell.” He paused. “I don’t like this, Kate.”

Neither did she. She was suddenly scared to death. She looked at the front door. Jesus, had Phyliss locked it? “Lock the door,” she whispered.

Phyliss didn’t question. She was at the door, turning the bolt the next instant.

“He told you he was with the department?” Alan asked.

“I saw his credentials.”

“Christ, Kate, you know credentials can be faked. What kind of car did he have?”

“Late-model Ford.”

“Did you get his license number?”

“No.” And she thought she had been so careful. “But I went out and talked to him. He knew you. He knew Michael.”

“The hell he did. He could have found out a lot of information from the newspapers. That’s usually how they zero in on a victim. I don’t think you’re in danger now that he knows you’re aware he was casing the place. It was probably one of those ghouls who prey on bereaved families.”

“That’s what I told Phyliss.”

“I want you to go to the window and see if the car is still there.”

She took the portable phone with her as she crossed to the window in the living room. Relief poured through her at the sight of the empty street. “He’s gone. The car’s gone.”

“Good. Now make sure all the doors and windows are locked tight. I’m going to send a black-and-white to watch the house tonight. He’ll be there in a few minutes. You’ll be perfectly safe. Do you want me to come out?”

“No, go back to sleep, Alan. Thanks for everything. I feel much better now.”

“Okay, I’ll phone you tomorrow morning. If you get nervous, just give me a call.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” She hung up the phone and turned to Phyliss. “He’s sending a black-and-white to watch the house, but he doesn’t believe it’s really necessary. He thinks we were being cased for a robbery.”

Phyliss shook her head. “How can people be so terrible? To try to invade a house of mourning.”

“He said to lock up the house, just in case.”

“It’s already locked up.”

“Then go to bed. I’ll wait here until I see the black-and-white.” She brushed a kiss against Phyliss’s cheek. “Try to sleep.”

Phyliss turned away and moved heavily down the hall toward her room. “Terrible . . .”

Kate’s hands clenched in helpless rage. Phyliss, whom Kate had never associated with age, at this moment looked like an old woman. It wasn’t enough she’d had to face Michael’s funeral today, but that creep had—

She stiffened. Headlights were spearing the street outside.

The black-and-white.

She relaxed as the police car slid to a stop at the curb outside the house. Safe. A young officer got out of the car and waved at her. She waved back and turned away from the window. Everything was all right now. She could go to bed. . . .

The hell she could. She wasn’t going to be fooled again. She took down the license number of the black-and-white and called the station to verify it.

It checked out.

She still didn’t go to bed. She went to Joshua’s room.

She checked the locks on the window and then stood looking down at him. He was sleeping deeply, thank God. She could feel tears sting her eyes. She had almost lost him. If he’d obeyed her urging to go with Michael and Benny, he’d be dead too.

To save your life. And maybe your son’s life too.

She wouldn’t think about Noah Smith’s words. No one had a reason to kill her.

The timer that set off the bombs at my plant was Czechoslovakian built.

For all she knew, that could be coincidence.

And the thief with amazingly authentic credentials who had staked out her house?

All the more reason for her to stay here safe and sound and not tear across town on a wild-goose chase.

Joshua stirred and turned on his side.

Oh God, she had almost lost him.

Jonathan Ishmaru punched in Ogden’s number on the Ford’s car phone.

“Ishmaru,” he said when Ogden picked up the phone. “It can’t happen tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I had to leave the neighborhood. She came out and questioned me.” He stared ahead at the lights streaming down the highway, remembering Kate Denby standing only inches from him. He had been tempted to get out of the car and finish her, but that would have meant getting only one of his targets. “And then she said she was going to call Eblund.”

“Where are you?”

“About twenty miles from the house. I’ll go back tomorrow night.”

“And get your ass thrown in jail?”

“I’ll be prepared.”

“So will she. The place will probably be crawling with cops.” Ogden paused. “A bomb worked before. We’ll find a way of making it look like some kind of mob hit. It’s not unusual for them to make an example of the whole family. It will be safer than trying to go inside and kill them. That’s what you’re to do.”

He had expected this from Ogden, Ishmaru thought contemptuously. He always chose the coward’s way to vanquish enemies. “I gave you your bombs in Seattle. I even planted one here. You promised me the next one I could do my way.”

“You bungled it. I want you to change cars and go back tomorrow and plant a device. But don’t let her see you, for God’s sake.”

“My way. I’ll go in and kill the grandmother and the child and then make Kate Denby’s kill look like a suicide because she murdered the others.” He added regretfully, “But it would have been more effective tonight after the funeral.”

“You stupid Indian, who do you think is paying you?” Ogden hissed. “You’ll do what I tell you.”

Ishmaru smiled. It was Ogden who was stupid for thinking that he did this for the money. Ogden didn’t understand the glory. He didn’t understand the triumph.

He didn’t understand coup.

“I’ll call you tomorrow night,” Ishmaru said. He hung up the phone, reached into the glove compartment, and drew out the Polaroid he’d taken of Kate, Joshua, and Phyliss Denby at Michael Denby’s funeral. He propped it on the dashboard where he could occasionally catch glimpses of the three as he drove. It always gave him pleasure to anticipate the coming triumph.

That Kate Denby had not been in the car he’d rigged with the bomb was actually a good thing. On no account would he use a bomb again. It was too frustrating. All those lives gone and not one coup.

But he would have three tomorrow night. A knife for the child and the grandmother and a bullet for Kate Denby. Pity. He regarded using his hands as the ultimate coup, but he had to give Ogden something. Ogden wanted no questions asked, and Ishmaru tried to comply as long as he was given what he wanted.

And he wanted Kate Denby. She had been a surprise to him when she had marched out to confront him with that gun held ready under the raincoat. She had been unafraid, like a warrior going into battle. There were few warriors left in the world. It had pleased him to find one facing him tonight. Even if she was a woman and probably not worthy of the title. But in this day and age one must accept warriors where one found them.

He frowned as his gaze fastened on her figure in the picture. She reminded him of someone but he couldn’t quite . . . Oh well, it would come to him.

It did come to him. Emily Santos. Twelve years ago . . . A small, unimportant job. It was before he had become recognized as the warrior he was. Her husband had paid him to kill the woman for the insurance money. She had been small and blond and had fought him like a tiger. He reached up and touched a small white scar on his neck. Yes, he could see Emily in Kate Denby.