Try Darkness (32 page)
“It’s okay,” Fly said. “All he wants is the girl.”
“Last time I ask,” I said. “Or I will put a hole in your mad and furious master.”
“What is he talkin’ about?” the behemoth said.
I yelled a word they’d both understand and pointed the rifle below the belt.
The two of them slowly got to their knees and spread out on the floor, facedown.
And then a visitor showed up.
“
WHAT IS GOING
on here?” I recognized the high whine of the security guard. He was outside the door, where he could only see the two on the floor.
“Petey!” Fly said. “Help!”
The guard stepped through the door. He was holding a big flashlight. He started to say something, then saw me. And the gun.
“Don’t move, Petey,” I said.
“He’s crazy!” Fly said.
“Easy, Petey.” I could hardly believe I said that. I actually felt sorry for the kid. He looked completely out of his element. As I was.
“Put the flashlight down,” I said.
Petey hesitated.
“Now,” I said.
He put it on the ground.
“Now kick it toward me,” I said.
Petey did like I asked him. “Please, sir, don’t shoot anybody.”
“Listen carefully, Petey. The car in front, look inside. There’s a little girl in there. She’s a kidnap victim. By these two.”
“Don’t listen to him!” Fly yelled.
“Go look, Petey,” I said. “I’ll be right here. You’re about to become a hero.”
“I know who you are,” the behemoth said, but I wasn’t sure who he was talking to.
“Go now!” I yelled, and Petey moved. I took a couple of steps so I could see out the open door. Petey looked through the window of an SUV. He turned around.
“She’s tied up,” he said.
“Come here, Petey,” I said.
“You tied her up?” Fly said to his companion.
“Shut up,” Behemoth said.
“Both of you shut up,” I said. To Petey I said, “Call the sheriff. Now.”
That seemed like a good idea to the security guard. He made the call on his cell and that seemed to generate, finally, a little good faith.
“They’re on the way,” he said.
I handed Petey the shotgun. “If either one of them makes a move, shoot to wound.”
“Where you going?”
“There’s a scared little girl,” I said. “She comes first.”
“Petey!” Fly screamed. “Shoot him!”
I walked to the SUV.
“Maybe you should stay,” Petey said.
“No,” I said.
Fly screamed at me. “We had a deal!”
To Petey I said, “Tell him that a verbal contract isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.”
“Petey!” Fly yelled.
“Now, you just be quiet,” Petey ordered, and I knew all was well. A boy becomes a man.
THE DRIVER’S-SIDE DOOR
of the SUV was unlocked. I hit the unlock button. Kylie was in the backseat, hands tied in front of her, gagged with a scarf. She’d been crying, and her nose was stuffy. She could barely breathe. I took off the scarf and untied her hands.
The second I did, she threw herself to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. And started crying big-time.
“I’m here now,” I said. “I’m not going to leave you.”
I carried her all the way down the drive and back up toward where I’d parked the Taurus.
Kylie stuck to me.
“Did they hurt you?” I said.
“When he tied me. I was scared.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I have a tummy ache.”
“Are you hungry?”
“He gave me tacos.”
“The big guy?”
“He said I was going to be okay, but I was still scared.”
“You don’t have to be scared now. You’re all right.”
“I told him he was going to get in trouble,” Kylie said. “But he didn’t listen.”
“He’s listening now, sweetheart. He’s going to get in big trouble. We’ll make sure, okay?”
“Okay.”
I CALLED SISTER
Mary and told her I had Kylie and that she was all right. She and Father Bob were waiting for us in the parking lot when we pulled in.
Kylie gave them both hugs, then Sister Mary took her to get her cleaned up and to a warm bed.
“What happened?” Father Bob asked.
“Some other time,” I said. “I feel like I need to sleep. Say some sort of prayer to the saint of sleep, if there is one.”
“How about I skip that and go directly to the Father?”
“You’re the priest.”
MY SLEEP WAS
cracked by a call from Deputy Sheriff Mike Browne. It was a strained, law enforcement tone. He requested the pleasure of my company at the station. I told him the pleasure would be all mine.
And it would be, because two bad guys had been caught. Kylie was safe. A few items were still outstanding, like who killed her mother and who was behind the nab, but for now I was counting it as the start of a good day.
Always a dangerous thing.
I got to the Malibu/Lost Hills station a little after ten. Browne was waiting for me. This time I got to sit in his office.
He sat behind his desk. I sat in a leather chair in front of his desk. He folded his hands and said, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
A little clipped. “Didn’t you get the statement from the security guard?”
“Do you mean the security guard who is now in the hospital?”
“What?”
“That’s right. When my deputy got to the trailer park he found one Peter Burnett bloody and unconscious. When Burnett was able to speak to us in the hospital, early this morning, he mentioned your name. That’s why it might be good for us to talk.”
“Where are the guys he was holding?”
“Nobody knows. Maybe you do.”
“Why would I know that?” I stood up. “When I left last night the guard had a sawed-off shotgun in his hands and two suspects on the floor. How did they get away from him?”
“I haven’t determined that yet. Burnett is not doing so well.”
“Did he tell you anything at all?”
“He mentioned something about a little girl.”
“Yeah. A kidnap victim. The guy whose mobile home I left last night was in on it. And now the girl is safe.”
“Do you want to explain a little bit about why you broke into this mobile home? Was there some sort of probable cause?”
“Wait a minute. Are you leveling some accusations at me?”
“I’m just trying to determine what happened.”
“When Mr. Burnett is able to talk, he’ll tell you. Right now you need to get people out looking for Mr. Fly Charles, the tenant in that mobile home. And a very large man who was with him. These are dangerous people.”
“Can I talk to the girl? Who is she?”
“She is six years old and she’s been through hell. I will arrange for her to talk to you later. But right now I’ll give you a description of the two suspects so you can hop over this.”
“That’ll be very helpful, Mr. Buchanan.”
I TRY TO
be helpful. That’s why I stopped off at the little hospital where Burnett had been taken.
I checked in at the front desk, where an old gentleman asked who I was. I said I was Peter Burnett’s lawyer. That seemed to me the shortest distance between two points. The old gentleman must have agreed. He issued me a visitor’s pass and gave me the room number.
Burnett didn’t look good. He had gauze around the top of his head and his face was puffy and black and blue. It probably didn’t do him much good when I walked up and he saw me. He grimaced.
“How you doing?” I said.
“Why are you here?” The high voice was even higher.
“I sort of feel responsible that I got you into this.”
He rolled his head a little back and forth. “I just messed up.”
“No, I did. I should have stayed with you. I was concerned about the girl. What happened?”
“The big one, he tackled me. I was afraid to shoot. That’s all I remember. I woke up in here.”
“I’m really sorry, Pete.”
“Were they really kidnappers?”
“Yes, they were. I gave it all to the deputy sheriff. The girl will back everything up.”
“Did they catch ’em?”
“Not yet.”
He groaned.
“But listen,” I said. “The girl is safe. You made that happen.”
He stopped groaning and looked at me hopefully.
“That’s right,” I said. “Now is there anything you need?”
“A new face, probably.”
“I’ll stop at the gift shop.”
A weak smile. Then: “You didn’t have to come here.”
“And you didn’t have to believe me last night. But you did. I’m going to make sure your bosses know you went the extra mile.”
A LOT OF
people were going the extra mile for me. Father Bob and Sister Mary. McNitt. Even Brosia.
Who I called on my way back to the Valley.
“I’ve been holding out on you,” I said.
“I had that feeling for quite a while,” Brosia said.
“Would it help to know that I’ve had a few things to take care of lately? Like, I’ve got a client who is facing a capital murder charge and I’m taking care of a little girl who was kidnapped.”
Pause. “Are you talking about Kylie?”
I gave him the story, up to poor Petey in the hospital.
Brosia whistled when I finished. “So this guy Fly and the other one, they’re gone?”
“I suggest you contact to Browne out at Malibu. You need to talk to this guy.”
“I’d love to.”
“And Sam DeCosse,” I said. “Junior and Senior.”
“I need something to question them about,” Brosia said. “There’s nothing that connects them to the killing except the location.”
“What if I get you something?”
“Does it involve breaking the law?”
“Me?”
“What I said.”
“I love you, too,” I said. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Wait—”
I clicked off.
SISTER HILDEGARDE HAD
her arms folded. That is the universal sign of trouble. She was standing at the edge of the parking lot.
Sister Mary was next to her, holding Kylie, who was holding Sister Mary tightly around the neck.
“What’s up?” I said. The moment I did Kylie turned and wiggled out of Sister Mary’s arms and ran into mine. She put her face in my shoulder, like she wanted to hide.
“I’ve called the Department of Children and Family Services,” Sister Hildegarde said.
“Oh you have?” I said. “And you were going to tell me when?”
“I’m telling you now. It had to be done. I’m sorry.”
“I thought I explained that I was her guardian,” I said.
“That’s something that the department will have to sort out, Mr. Buchanan. I felt it my responsibility—”
“I appreciate it,” I said. “But Kylie is not going anywhere.”
“She cannot stay here.”
“Of course she can,” Sister Mary said. She faced Sister Hildegarde like a lion eyeing a water buffalo.
“Excuse me?” Sister Hildegarde said.
“May I speak, or am I too
rigid
?”
“Be very careful about what you say next.”
“You want me to weigh every word? Okay, here they come. You are not looking out for the best interest of this child.”
“Sister Mary—”
“I’m not finished.”
“I think you are.”
“Then let me go down in flames! We have too long put aside our true religious duties in the community. We are not taking care of our elders as we ought. Now we are not taking care of the least of these, the children. You are content to hand her off to a bureaucracy. We have lost our vision.”
“Sister—”
“Maybe
that’s
why Mr. Buchanan came here, for this very purpose, to turn us back to what we should be. Maybe God is using this as our moment, to reclaim what it means to be a real community. That includes those who have come to us for help.”
Sister Hildegarde made a face that a mother might, sort of
You wait until your father gets home.
“The decision has been made.” She turned and stormed to the office.
I looked at Sister Mary, who was breathing hard, and said, “You go, Sister.”
“I will probably have to now,” she said.
“Let’s all three of us go,” I said. “Let me make a call.”
“
KYLIE, THIS IS
Fran.”
Kylie was not ready to let go of me, even after we got into Fran’s little living room.
“Hello, Kylie,” Fran said.
Kylie said nothing.
“And this is Sister Mary Veritas,” I said.
“Welcome,” Fran said.
We stood there for a moment, silent.
Then Fran said, “I wish someone would help me feed the cats.”
I felt Kylie move.
“You have cats, Fran?” I said.
“Oh yes I do. But I just need help feeding them.”
“I wish there was someone who could help you,” I said.
Kylie’s head lifted from my shoulder. Then she whispered in my ear, “Can I help?”
“Do you want to?” I said.
Kylie nodded. I set her down. “Kylie said she’d like to help.”
Fran held her hand out. “Then let’s go.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Kylie took Fran’s hand and went with her toward the back door.
When they got outside, Sister Mary said, “Well, now I can think about more stupid things to say to Sister Hildegarde.”
“It needed to be said.”
“You don’t know anything about us. You don’t know anything about authority or order or things that last.”
“Whoa—”
“I let my mouth and heart lead when it should have been my head.”
I said, “Sometimes you have to lead mouth and heart, okay? You’re not a head of state. You’re not leading us into war. You’re not Groucho Marx.”
She said, “What on earth are you talking about?”
“You ever see
Duck Soup
?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then soon we will watch
Duck Soup.
Groucho plays the leader of a country. An enemy country sends over a diplomat. Groucho says to him, ‘Maybe you can suggest something. As a matter of fact, you
do
suggest something. To me you suggest a baboon.’”
Sister Mary smiled a little.
I said, “And after the diplomat looks outraged, Groucho says, ‘I’m sorry I said that. It isn’t fair to the rest of the baboons.’”