Murder Takes to the Hills (5 page)

Sonny soon handed out the drinks. Taking a sip, Cindy began to speak. “You know how you somehow become aware someone is staring at you? They don’t have to wave or say anything; you just feel it. Most of the time it’s okay…someone you know wanting your attention, or some woman wearing the same dress you are, or a tourist about to ask directions. You know…nothing.”

We nodded agreement and she continued. “But the last week or so I’ve had the feeling someone was watching me a lot. Then when I looked up or looked around, I felt as if they had quickly looked the other way, or stepped behind another person, or were suddenly reading the newspaper.”

Sonny asked gently. “Has this been a specific person or just a kind of general feeling?”

“Just a general feeling. Why?” she asked defensively. “You think I’m paranoid?”

“Far from it,” he smiled. “Knowing you, if you could tell who it was, you’d have long since confronted them. Right?”

She returned his smile, and I felt better. Obviously, so did she. “You bet!” she said. “And at this point I would confront them with a baseball bat.”

I put my oar in the water. “Where have you been when you had these feelings?”

“Most often at work. Usually downstairs in the main banking area. Or in the parking lot at work…mostly at the end of the day.
 
And also on my lunch hour, walking to a restaurant, doing an errand, just getting some fresh air.”

“No phone calls?” Sonny was making notes on a pad he had commandeered from its little cage on the wall next to the kitchen phone.

“No.”

“Has anybody said anything strange to you? Or touched you unnecessarily, even though it seemed innocuous at the time?” Sonny scribbled on.

“No.”

Whoever this was, was beginning to seem like a real phantom.

Digging into her purse on the table, she sighed heavily. “Today I found this under my windshield wiper. I almost tossed it; it makes no sense. I still think maybe somebody got the wrong car.”

She pulled out a note and handed it to me. I took it gingerly by a corner, hoping there might be fingerprints. It was fairly neatly printed on what was probably a page torn from a pocket calendar and read:
Don’t worry about anybody giving you a hard time. I will be there for you.
Love, your
lifegard
.

Sonny leaned over my shoulder and read it aloud. “Whoever it is, seems fairly well educated…it’s grammatical and neat.”

“Lifeguard is misspelled,” I noted.

“Yeah,” Sonny nodded. “Maybe it’s one of those words you just don’t seem able to spell right…like I always tend to put an extra
a
in
apart
a
ment
.”

“Maybe.” I laid the note carefully on the kitchen counter. “I’ll get an envelope for this in a minute. You know, Cindy is right; this thing makes no sense. It sounds as if he’s saying he’ll protect you against himself.”

“I know,” Sonny answered. “Unless the stalker has a stalker.”

“Oh, my God,” Cindy groaned. “Two of them are all I need!”

“Well, they might as well get used to a crowd, because I’m going to be stalker number three, right behind you every inch of the way.” I lit a cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke forcefully toward the ceiling.

“The hell you are,” Sonny snapped. “Having you as a bodyguard would make about as much sense as my tailing her in full uniform, blowing a tuba. Whoever knows Cindy, probably knows you two are a pair. In fact, I’ve been trying to think whom I could use to trail her from a distance. I’ve decided everybody on the force would probably stand out like a cat at the dog show to anybody local. There’s no point in having someone follow her if the stalker connects the two of them. He’d just quit until we took the tail off. Or he might switch to someone we won’t know about. Or he might get nasty.”

“Well, somebody has to be near her. I can always wear a disguise.”

Sonny roared, and even Cindy had to smother a giggle.

“I could think of something,” I insisted. “But if you don’t like my idea, what’s yours?”

“Very simple,” he smirked, and I wanted to slap him. “There’s a cop down in Eastham who retired last year. He told me recently he’s bored to death and has nothing to do but argue with his wife. He’ll jump at this, I know.
 
I’ll make Edgar a temporary deputy tomorrow morning. He and I will be having lunch at noon at the Hot
Diggity
Dog. You come in, Cindy, and say hello to me but keep going, place your order and go outside to eat.
 
We’ll stop on our way out and chat for a moment. Simple way for you to know who he is. After tomorrow, he’ll be somewhere near you from the time you leave the house in the morning till you get home in the evening. Even if you don’t see him—and you often won’t—he’ll be there.”

Cindy nodded silently, and I told Sonny it sounded very good. “Guess I won’t have to dream up an effective disguise, after all.”

Giving me a sour grin, Sonny said, “Yeah. Like a couple of Halloweens ago you got all decked out in my old army camouflage uniform plus a mask…and everyone in town told me the next day how good you looked in my uniform.”

Cindy tittered, “I didn’t know that.”

“You weren’t here,” I muttered. “Anyhow, Mr. Big Mouth, how about security at the bank itself? Cindy said somebody might be hanging around the main lobby.”

“I’ll call Choate Ellis in the morning and tell him what’s going on. He can alert his security people. Also I want a list.”

“Oh, Sonny,” Cindy interrupted. “You’re being great about this little mess of mine and I really appreciate it. But I’d rather meet my stalker at midnight in an abandoned warehouse than have this broadcast all over the bank! Some people would think I was just after attention, some would think it was funny or that I deserved it. Most would feel sorry for me and try to help…and what a muddle
that
would make!”

“There’s this, too, Sonny,” I chimed in. “What if one of the guards is the stalker? This would give him—or her—fair warning.”

Shrugging, Sonny said, “Choate can tell them that the first one who leaks it is out on his ass. And, besides, the reason I want a list of his security people is so Nacho can run really thorough background checks. If we don’t get any hits, we can assume, for the present, they’re all clean. Look, guys, just one more question and then I’ve got to run. Trish will think I’ve forgotten all about dinner.”

We looked at him expectantly. He looked back at us uncomfortably. Finally he spoke.

“This is kind of embarrassing, Cindy, and I don’t want either of you to take it the wrong way…Cindy do you—or you, Sis—have anyone in your background who might want to do this for any reason…like giving one or both of you a good scare?”

I knew he was reluctant to pry into Cindy’s and my private lives. He only called me
Sis
when he was under stress.

I answered first. “No woman, and certainly no man, has shown any unusual recent interest in me. And I haven’t been coming on to anyone in my wildest dreams. As for my exes…I think they are all many miles away and glad to have said farewell. My latest damsel of disaster is, as you know, in no position to stalk anybody—she’s still in prison. That’s it for me. Cindy, my love, if you’d feel easier talking to Sonny alone, Fargo and I will gladly take a walk around the block.”

“Not necessary.” She gave me a weak smile. “You know my latest calamity ended just before I moved up here.
 
She found a gorgeous, wealthy French-Canadian replacement for me, and if she’s back looking at me, the mighty have indeed fallen. And I’d know her anywhere. Otherwise—very few affairs and none with scars that haven’t totally faded.”

“Good enough.”
 
Sonny stood and stretched. “Cindy, I’ll see you at noon tomorrow. And we’ll have a car going by here fairly frequently at night until we get this bird. Be of good cheer.”

At the door he turned back.
 
“Have you two thought of a vacation? Between stalkers and builders, you could use a rest. And maybe they would all go away while you cavorted around …oh, let’s say, historic Italy.”

“The opera!” Cindy cried.

“The gorgeous women!” Sonny and I chorused.

CHAPTER FIVE

Sonny was on the phone bright and early Tuesday morning. Cindy’s watchdog, Edgar Fountain, had to take his wife for a doctor’s appointment in Hyannis this morning, but would be happy to start his new temporary job tomorrow. So everything was moved back a day. Could we deal with that? I said I was sure we could, and asked about the bank security people.

Choate Ellis, I was informed, had called an early morning meeting and was advising them of the situation as we spoke, and warning them against spreading the news. The list of employees would be faxed to Nacho sometime this morning. The Peres
siblings parted as cordially as either could manage at that early hour.

Cindy tried not to look disappointed as she ate her health cereal with skim milk and half a banana. I tried not to look desperate when I noticed she had fixed me the same fit fare while I was on the phone.

But I soldiered on. “Look, Cindy my pet, I got a fairly large check from the art gallery down in Wellfleet. I’d like to get it into the bank. I was going to ask you to do it, but I think I’ll do it myself around noon, and then stick my head in your office and suggest lunch.
 
That way, if anyone
should
be checking my movements, it will all look quite casually normal. We do this from time to time anyway. What say you?”

“I say I’m delighted. I don’t care what Sonny says, I feel better when you’re within
hollerin
’ distance. It’s strange, now that you and Sonny are looking out for me—along with various patrol cars and bank guards and friend Edgar is in the wings—I feel a little shaky. Before that, I was just kind of uneasy. I guess yesterday I was still telling myself it could be my imagination. Now it’s for real…or I guess it certainly better be...I’m kind of scared.” She managed an almost normal laugh.

“Didn’t we tell you?” I asked. “Starting tomorrow, whenever you leave the house or bank, there is a lead car with siren and flashing lights, then two cars exactly like yours, so no one will know which one you’re in, and two tail cars, so one can follow you whichever way you turn. People will remove their hats and hold them to their hearts, soldiers will salute, children will wave flags and cheer. And your stalker will run behind the motorcade, panting, ‘Wait for me,
goddammit
, Cindy, wait for me! You wouldn’t be having any of this parade if it weren’t for crazy old me!’”

This time I got a real laugh, and she left for work still grinning.

After watching the news and comforting myself with a second cup of coffee plus a jelly doughnut, I went into my office and began a serious task. I took my
Glock
9mm pistol from the safe and began to clean it. It was my heavy-duty artillery, and it would not be far from me, and I would not be far from Cindy until this event ended. What Sonny didn’t know wouldn’t upset him, and I could guarantee no one would spot me, no matter what he thought.

Almost finished, I was just reloading the clip into the pistol when Orrick’s 17th Symphony in Clash-A Major began. I stifled a wild desire to run out, waving the gun and shouting, “The next man who makes a noise…
dies!”

Instead, I leaned under the bed, where Wells was muttering curses in a low hiss, and dragged her out at great personal peril. I called to Fargo to go to the car, and we headed for the cottage.

The
kinder
leaped joyfully from the car when we arrived. I followed more slowly but just as happily. Wells began a critter hunt among the reeds. Fargo ran to the end of the dock and stood guard against invading
waterbirds
. I strolled through Aunt Mae’s garden, pleased to see that her peas and radishes, along with some herbs I could not identify, were bright with that special tender green of April. Soon it would be time to plant my tomatoes and summer squash! I went inside smiling.