Pillow Stalk (A Mad for Mod Mystery) (13 page)

EIGHTEEN

I scooped Rocky up in my arms and moved to the hallway. The fold-down attic steps bisected my path to the front door. Silence surrounded me, and I wondered briefly if I’d imagined the sound.
Tex is playing with me
, I told myself in an attempt to calm down. I eased sideways past the collapsible staircase. As I passed it, I looked up at the black hole of the attic. The tip of a man’s rubber sole hung over the top step, the rest of him lost in the darkness.

Adrenaline propelled me to the front door, despite the pain in my knee. Clumsy footsteps thudded down the wood stairs behind me. I didn’t look back. Rocky whimpered as his tail knocked against the small counter in the kitchen. I pushed against the door and hobbled through the small, enclosed porch. My fingers threw the deadbolt and I yanked the front door open. I stumbled down the three front stairs and ran to the Explorer, fumbling with the keys for the remote.

I slammed my palm on the lock switch once we were inside. Rocky’s leash was caught on the other side but I didn’t risk opening the door. I unclipped it from his collar. My eyes flicked up to the house, back to the ignition, checking to see if anyone was there, if anyone was coming to get me. I jabbed the key at the ignition. On the third try it slipped in. I tore away from the sidewalk, tires squealing. I drove fast—too fast for a truck this size—out of the small neighborhood. Twice the truck swayed dangerously to the side. I had to slow down but I had to get away from that house.

My cell phone flew from the passenger seat to the floor, the screen still a blue glow. I hadn’t hung up when I ran. Tex was probably still on the line, but I couldn’t take my hands off the steering wheel.

“I’m out of the house!” I shouted at the floor. “I’m out of the house!”

His reply was lost in the sound of the vibrating floorboards and the pulsating rush of blood in my ears.

I didn’t drive directly home for fear I was being followed. There was no mistaking the fact that someone had been in Thelma Johnson’s attic and they’d started to come after me. That much I knew. I checked and rechecked the rearview mirror. Something, a blur of a memory I couldn’t focus on, told me he’d stopped his pursuit at the threshold of Thelma’s front door, but I was still scared. He’d had a clear view of my car; if he wanted to follow me, he could. If he didn’t want to follow me tonight, he’d know what to look for tomorrow. And if he knew who I was, he probably knew where to find that car, and therefore, me.

I turned up and down side streets, constantly checking the rear view mirror. Occasionally a car appeared behind me, and I took a series of right and left turns to ensure their presence was coincidental. I turned onto Mockingbird and drove the length of it until I arrived at the Highland Park Police Station.

I pulled into the lot and stared at the army of patrol cars. Shiny, clean. Newer than the cars that were parked in the station north of White Rock Lake, but Highland Park was the richest area in Dallas. The women and men they protected and served were of a different social background than the ones Tex’s team watched over.

I didn’t get out of the car. Just being there, in the well-lit lot, surrounded by cop cars, allowed me to low down for a moment. Rocky thwomped his furry paws onto my lap and he looked up at me, fear visible in his giant brown eyes. I kissed the top of his head and ran my hand over his fur. He was trembling as much as I was.

I fished the cell phone off the floor. The call had dropped. I called information and asked for the number to the Budget Rent-a-Car. They were closed for the night. Tomorrow morning I would trade the SUV in for something else.

I called Tex back.

“Madison, where are you?” he asked.

“I’m at the police department in Highland Park, like you said. I don’t think I was followed.”

“Good. Stay there. Tell them I’m coming to get you.”

“I’m okay now. I just need a second to calm down. I want to go home.” 

“Not in that car, you’re not. I’ll take you home. You can leave that car there.”

“
No!
You are not placing me under house arrest!” I flipped the phone shut and threw it back to the floor. Immediately it rang, but I ignored it.

I reached across the passenger seat and opened the door, freeing Rocky’s leash. The handle had become frayed from dragging outside of the car, but it was still in one piece. I wound the leash into concentric circles and set it on the floor, then kissed Rocky’s head again and positioned him on the passenger seat. “Time to go home, Rocky.”

I rebuckled my seat belt and started the ignition. As I released the parking break, knuckles wrapped against my window. I jumped, despite the cross-chest seatbelt strap holding me in place.

An officer dressed in an immaculately cleaned and pressed navy blue uniform stood next to the car. His mirrored aviators were both clichéd and unnecessary with the waning sun.

“Ma’am?” he said, to the shut window.

“I’m just leaving, Officer,” I yelled at the glass.

“Turn the car off and come with me,” he said.

“No, thanks, I’m fine.”

“No you’re not. I booted your car.”

There was no way I’d heard that correctly. I cracked the window. “What did you say?”

“We got a call on the radio from a Lieutenant Allen saying you were in our lot. Said for us to keep you here.”

“You can’t do that. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

The officer adjusted his aviators and gave me a half-smile. “Said you racked up a whole lot of unpaid parking tickets, and he’s been after you for awhile.”

I had no unpaid parking tickets, but Tex couldn’t tell them I was involved in a homicide investigation that he wasn’t supposed to be investigating. Seems we both had cards we weren’t playing. I wasn’t pleased by this turn of events.

“Officer, can I see some identification so I know who I’m talking to?”

He held an identification card and badge up against the window. I grabbed a pen from the center console and wrote his name and badge number on the back of the rental car papers that had scattered on the floor.  

“Ma’am, it’s for your own good. Come with me and I’ll get you a cup of coffee while we wait for the Lieutenant.”

“No. The Lieutenant has me confused with someone else, and I want to go home now.” I unlocked the parking brake and put the car in drive. The car jerked but didn’t move. I checked the brake and the gears and tried again. The same thing happened.

The officer again rapped his knuckles on my window. “Ma’am, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’re goin’ to ruin a nice set of tires and these ones here are expensive.”

I rolled the window down completely and hung my head out. Sure enough, an orange boot was locked on my rear tire. “You already know I don’t have any outstanding parking tickets.”

The officer tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a smile.

“There has to be some kind of law against that,” I added.

“Yep, there probably is.”

“Then unlock it and let me go.”

A black Jeep swung into the lot, Tex behind the wheel. He parked in front of the Explorer and hopped out. He flashed a badge.

“What’s going on here, Officer?”

“Lieutenant Allen? This here’s the car you wanted us to hold up, right?”

“This one? Nah, it’s a different one. You can go ahead and take the boot off now.”

The young officer unlocked the orange contraption with an ear to ear smile on his face. Now that Tex’s Jeep blocked my exit, I was as trapped as before.

Tex leaned his elbows on the now-open door window and rested his chin on his crossed wrists. His light blue eyes drilled into me. I matched his stare with my own but it didn’t matter. We were on his turf.

“Night, this is for your own good. Get out of your car, get whatever you need, and I’ll take you home.”

“And then what happens? I can’t leave my apartment? I’m trapped and out of your way? I don’t think so.”

He opened his fist and dangled a set of keys in front of me. “There’s another rental waiting for you at your building. I’ll return this one tomorrow. I don’t think it’s wise for you to drive around in this car if—” he stopped talking.

“If the killer saw me get into it and knows how to find me,” I finished for him.

“Did he?”

“I think so.”

“We need to talk, Night. I need to know what you know because you know something.”

“I want to go home.”

“Get into my Jeep.”

I clipped the frayed leash onto Rocky’s collar and reluctantly got out of the truck. We walked toward Tex’s Jeep, me favoring my knee. I got into the black vehicle and rubbed my hands over the swollen joint. It was the second time I’d been chauffeured by Tex in a week and the circumstances hadn’t improved.

He spoke to the young officer briefly and joined me in the car. I would have been very happy with silence but it was not to be so.

“Why did you go back to Thelma Johnson’s house, Night?” he asked as we pulled onto Turtle Creek Boulevard.

“Why did you?” I asked.

He kept his eyes on the road.

I was silent.

It wasn’t a long drive from the Highland Park police station to my apartment. He didn’t ask any more questions but I sensed the conversation was not over.

He pulled the Jeep into the driveway on the south side of my building and drove it to the parking lot in the back. He left the engine running. Something stopped me from getting out.

“I don’t know why I went to Thelma Johnson’s house. I was looking for something, only I don’t know what. A connection.” I looked down at my hands. “I’m trying to figure out what this all means, these four murders, and what they have to do with me.”

“That’s not your job, Night.”

“It’s not your job either, Lieutenant.”

“My job is to look out for the citizens of Dallas. You’re a citizen of Dallas.”

“So I’m supposed to sit back and trust you’ll figure it all out before I get killed? I’ve been in more dangerous situations since I’ve met you than I have in my whole life.”

“I admit, these aren’t the best circumstances for us to have met.”

I wanted to smack him. “There is something very wrong about the way your brain works, Tex Allen. I’m afraid for my life and all you do is joke around. My life is in danger and
I don’t know why
. And everybody acts like I’m one of your disgruntled conquests, like I’m only around because I’m trying to get your attention.”

He leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “It’s been known to happen.”

“But I can’t begin to imagine under what circumstances I would be happy to see you.”

He smiled but stared straight ahead. “You’ll come around.”

“OOOooohhh!” My fists instinctively balled up and pounded the dashboard. I tried to unlock the door but Tex had the driver’s side locks engaged and I couldn’t get out. Heat lit up inside of me, at playing the mouse to his role of cat.

“I’m right about the case, aren’t I? You’re not supposed to be working it,” I asked, still half-fighting a losing battle with the door.

“How did you find out?”

I gave up on the door. “I found an article online.” I watched his expression.

His jaw flexed a couple of times. He was fighting his own reaction and it hit me, why he worked so hard to keep up the joking, two-dimensional personality. How hard this must be for him, how I hadn’t stopped to think about any of it from his perspective. Involuntarily, I put my hand on top of his. I was as surprised by the gesture as he was.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to live with this.”

He turned his hand over, so our palms touched, then he placed mine back in my lap. “Don’t go soft on me now, Night,” he said, his voice catching as he said my name. He hit the unlock button and put the car into drive. Rocky bounded out of the Jeep and pulled me toward the back door.

Tex backed the truck up and pulled next to the door. “And Night? Those other cops are wrong. You’re nothing like any of my conquests. You’re in a class all your own.”

He drove through the narrow driveway to the north side of my building. I unlocked the back door, locked it behind me, and started up the stairs to my unit.

“We’re home, Rocky. Finally.” Rocky bounded ahead of me, yipping in my direction when he reached the door. I gripped the banister and stepped slowly up the carpeted treads. “How does spaghetti and meatballs sound? I think we deserve comfort food, don’t you?”

I turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. Rocky ran ahead of me, into the darkness, yipping with excitement. “I didn’t know you’d be so happy to get home,” I said. My hand clumsily sought the switch to the lamp, and a hand clamped down over my mouth from behind and pulled me tightly against a rigid chest.

NINETEEN

I tried to fight against the strong cage of arms but couldn’t. And then I heard the voice.

“Madison, Madison, ssshhhhh, it’s Hudson. It’s Hudson, it’s Hudson. Don’t fight me. It’s Hudson.”

Like yesterday, when he’d found me in front of his house after being attacked, the repetition of his soothing voice calmed me. I relaxed slightly, but not entirely. He removed his hand from my mouth. Moments later he turned me around to face him. My own fear reflected in his eyes.

“Madison, I’m not going to hurt you.”

My chest heaved and fell with deep penetrating lungs filled with air. “Get your hands off me,” I said in a low, gravelly voice, my heart pounding in my chest from the surprise.

He let go and held up his palms facing me like he was proving he wasn’t a threat. I took two steps backward to put distance between us. Rocky yipped around our ankles like we were playing. He put his front paws on Hudson’s jeans and stared up at his friend’s face, not understanding that sometimes friends were not to be trusted.

I reached in the bag slung across my chest and pulled out my cell phone. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Madison—”

I put a hand out palm first in front of me to stop him from closing the space between us.

“How did you get in here?” I asked.

“You gave me a set of keys when you asked me to do maintenance on the building.” He reached into the pocket of his black jeans; I took another half step back. He extracted three metal keys that still hung on the cheap key ring the locksmith had used when he’d cut the set. Gently, Hudson set the keys on the low wooden hutch.

“Please let me explain.”

“Damn it, Hudson!” I yelled. I dropped the phone. My fingers splayed like I was holding an invisible basketball and my hands jabbed forward like I was looking for a teammate to pass the ball to. “I can’t live like this,” My breath caught. “This is not a normal life!” I pushed fingers into my temples and the tasseled hat fell off my head. I felt my face contort with emotion. “People are chasing me and jumping out at me. Everybody knows more than I do and nobody is telling me anything. I can’t live like this!” I repeated.

Before he could speak there was a knock on the door. Instantly we both went quiet.

“Ms. Night? It’s Kirsten from Apartment B. Are you okay?”

I remained silent.

“Ms. Night? I heard you yelling. Do you want me to call that police officer who drove you home? He gave me his card when he was here on Wednesday.”

Hudson had a finger up to his mouth but her last words made his hand drop. It was do or die time. I took a deep breath to steady my voice.

“Kirsten, it’s okay. I’m on the phone.”

I watched the shadow below my door stay steady then retreat. “Okay, sorry to bother you. Give Rocky a kiss for me!”

I suddenly pushed Hudson against the wall behind the door and opened it. “Kirsten, can you do me a favor? Can you take Rocky out one last time tonight?”

“Sure!” she replied. “I have a Milk Bone for him, too.” Rocky was all too happy to follow her down the hall to the front door. I shut the door behind her, but didn’t turn the lock.

“Thank you,” Hudson said.

“You’ve got about two minutes, maybe three, before she gets back. Start talking,” I said.

“Remember I told you I saw someone hanging around my house?” he asked.

I nodded.

“I don’t know if it’s the person who attacked you or not. I’m starting to think it might be a reporter from the
Dallas Morning News
. He’s watching me. Taking pictures. I work in the garage but it’s getting to me, being watched. I can tell he’s there, I can hear the shutter of his camera. I tried to confront him but he took off and now he stays farther away. I can’t concentrate. I’m sorry, Madison.”

“Why are you apologizing to me?”

“It’s about the job you hired me to do.”

“You’re under surveillance by a reporter who wants to write some kind of expose on you and you came here to tell me you can’t finish a job?” I asked.

He didn’t answer my question. “I was in the garage, working on the table legs. Mortiboy was sitting on the driveway one second but the next second he was gone. I found him halfway across the street. The last thing I need is for him to get into a fight with another cat or start tracking a squirrel so I went after him. When I got back to the garage, the stuff was gone.”

“What stuff?”

“I had a couple sheets of paper on the workbench. Your name was written on them, along with the address of your studio. Dimensions of the table and what I needed to do to the legs. When I got back the papers were gone and the table leg was on the floor. The wood was chipped like it had hit something hard. I don’t know if it can be fixed. If it can’t I’ll reimburse—”

“Hudson! Forget about the table leg.”

“When I realized the invoice was gone I drove to your studio. You weren’t there. I got worried and came here looking for you.”

“How long have you been here?”

“I’m not sure. I left the lights off.”

“Where’s your truck?”

“I parked it on a side street and walked. I thought it was best not to be seen.”

My mind raced in a thousand directions. If Tex had taken two minutes to cruise the side streets around my apartment building looking for something suspicious, he would have seen Hudson’s truck. Whether I was high up on Tex’s radar or not, he was a cop first, and I doubted a detail like that had escaped his vision.

Before I could talk, there was a knock on the door. “Madison? It’s Kirsten.”

Hudson stepped back into the shadows. I hobbled to the door and opened it. The teenager handed Rocky to me.

“Why are you carrying him?”

“I don’t know. He seems awfully tired. We got outside and he just wanted to sit by my feet. Are you sure he needed to go?”

“No, just thought it would be a good idea. Thanks, Kirsten.”

“Anytime. Good night!” She bounded back down the stairs to her apartment below mine. If she’d heard Hudson and me earlier, no doubt she’d hear two sets of footsteps all night if he stayed and that would raise more questions than I was ready to answer. Including whether or not I was capable of allowing Hudson to spend the night.

When I locked the door behind me I heard Hudson opening and shutting the freezer. He returned with a Ziploc bag filled with ice. “Your knee. You’re hurt. Sit down.”

“Not now.”

“Madison, you can’t keep going like this. Ice it.”

I sat down and held the ice bag against my joint. The shock of cold against my skin shot through my whole body but I fought the instinct to pull it away.

He was right. Icing it for fifteen minutes was the best thing I could do for the painful, inflamed joint right now.

“I shouldn’t have come here but I had to warn you that someone out there might be coming after you. I don’t think he took anything else.”

“Could it have been the person who attacked me outside of your house?”

He nodded. “I thought of that, too.”

“You can’t stay here tonight.”

“Madison, I’m not looking for that.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I don’t think you should go home yet, but too many people could become suspicious if you stay here with me. I have an idea.”

“I don’t want you getting any more involved with me than you are right now. Someone’s trying to bring up a lot of dirt from a long time ago and you don’t need to get muddy, too.”

“Hudson, I am involved. I don’t know how or why, but I’m fairly sure one of the victims was supposed to be me. I was attacked outside of your house. I was chased away from Thelma Johnson’s house today. As much as I like you, I’m not getting involved purely for your benefit. Whatever this is about, I want it to be over, too.”

“What’s your idea?”

The man who rented the last apartment on the first floor, opposite Kirsten’s, was away on business. Luckily, the apartment above his was vacant. Hudson could stay there, undiscovered. I instructed him to wait for me inside while I got a few things together to help him get through the night.

Rocky was exhausted, more so than I’d ever seen. He padded his little furry feet to a spot under the low coffee table and lay down. I moved through the apartment, opening closets and stuffing items into a suitcase: pillow, blanket, overnight kit. When I finished I pulled it across the hall and opened the door. Hudson stood by the back window staring out over the parking lot.

“Still no car?”

“Still no car.”

“New rental?”

“New rental.”

“Madison, I wish you weren’t involved,” he said, turning to face me. I was embarrassed that my personal boundaries kept me from inviting him to sleep on my sofa, but I wasn’t there yet. I needed space and control, two things I was used to having. The past few days had shaken me up more than I wanted to admit to myself and I was clinging to whatever I could.

“Here’s a pillow, comforter, and blankets. There’s some other stuff in the suitcase. I know it’s not much. The water’s on so you can shower or...” my voice trailed off. “I should just—”

“Don’t. I’m fine here. This is more than I expected. Thank you.”

There were several feet separating us, unlike last night when his arms were around me, yet our eyes connected in a way that made me feel like we were inches apart. I wanted to cross the room and have him fold me into his embrace to comfort me but knew that was little more than a selfish thought. He needed comforting, too.

“Hudson, I need to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“What were you doing at White Rock Lake the night Sheila Murphy was killed?”

His head dropped and he stared at the bleached wood floor. I was afraid of the question and afraid of his answer, but it was something I had to know. I waited. He pushed one leg out farther than the other and rested the heel of his sneaker on the floor, his toe pointing up, then nervously bounced it a couple of times.

“I was going through a rough time. Getting desperate and thinking about doing some stuff that would have been a really bad idea. I was out of work and needed someone to talk to. She was right there, and it had been a long time since I talked to anyone the way I talked to her. I didn’t want to wait until morning so I broke in.”

I didn’t like what I heard but if he’d been with someone, a woman, then he’d have an alibi. All he had to do was say who she was.

“So you had an alibi. Whoever she is, whoever you’re trying to protect, wouldn’t she confirm that you were with her?”

Unless he was with a married woman who had more to lose than to gain. It was the only scenario I could imagine, the only reason someone wouldn’t defend him or give him something to cling to during the murder investigation.

“Hudson, why can’t you ask this woman to tell the cops you were with her?”

“Because she’s dead, too.”

My head started to spin.