Born To Be Wild

THIRTY-SEVEN

Mary Lisa looked away from him. It wasn’t Puker’s sniveling she couldn’t stand, it was her own vision of this faceless madman she had dreamed about that Puker had brought to life. She felt her fear digging deep and tried to make it stop, tried to get hold of herself.

Jack whispered close to her ear, “This yahoo isn’t going to hurt you, Mary Lisa. I’ll kill him first. Trust me on this, all right?”

Mary Lisa’s fear, dark and endless as a corridor in a dream, dropped away at the sound of his voice. She looked up at him, saw the utter certainty in his eyes, and slowly nodded. And then it hit her, deep and fierce. “You won’t have to kill him, Jack, I will.”

“Good girl.”

Daniel looked at them a moment, jerked around, as if asking them for silence, and continued quietly, “Did Jamie Ramos tell you what Mary Lisa had done to him to make him stalk her, try to hurt her?”

“No, he hardly talked to me, wouldn’t answer my questions. If I talked too much, he’d hit me. He acted kind of crazy, like he’d walk around hitting his fist against his palm. It was creepy. I was real scared.”

“Did he say if he’d asked her out? That that was why he was angry, because she’d turned him down?”

“He didn’t say. Like I told you, I was scared, you know? I thought he was going to kill me so I kept real quiet. He came and went, tied me up and gagged me when he wanted to. One time he ate a large pepperoni pizza in front of me, drank a giant-sized cola, slurped it right down, didn’t offer me anything. When he was done, he belched and laughed. I asked him what he was going to do to me.”

“And what did he say?”

“He grinned at me-he was always grinning, even when he hit me, and he had crooked teeth, the front two overlapped, you know? I wouldn’t grin so much if my teeth looked like that-and well, he shook his head. He let me go to the bathroom a few times, gave me some slices of cold pizza and let me drink from the tap. Then he’d tie me to the chair again and hit me, cursing her while he did it.” Puker burst into tears again.

Mary Lisa growled deep in her throat, tried to pull away from Jack. “This time he’s faking it, Daniel. The little weasel.”

Jack placed his palm over her mouth. She tried to bite him. He whispered, “You’re being recorded, Mary Lisa. Can we let Detective Vasquez do his job?”

She nodded finally, reluctantly, relaxed her hands.

Daniel asked, “Mr. Hodges, he kept you tied up in that room for three days. Are you saying you didn’t talk about anything?”

“He wasn’t there that much. I figured he was out following Mary Lisa around, maybe at the studio in Burbank, whatever. Maybe he was fixing a hog or two. I always hated it when he came back because he always came back mad and he’d hit me again, and he’d curse her while he hit me. I hadn’t done anything to him, it wasn’t fair! All I did was take his photo and try to help Mary Lisa.”

“How did you get away, Mr. Hodges?”

“I’m sitting there, real hungry, when he comes in, hits me, leans against the wall, and crosses his arms over his chest. He says some other people saw him at the beach, tells me he’s heading out of town, that the bitch can die of old age for all he cares. He hits me again, and I start praying because I think he’s going to kill me right there. But then he says he’s going to blindfold me and drop me off in the van.

“I thank him. You know what he does? He looks at me and laughs and says something like, ‘They’re never going to find me, anyway. And you’re just a stupid paparazzo who can’t prove a thing. They might not even believe you. Nah, you’re not worth Murder One.’ He gives me this cocky salute and then swaggers out.”

“That’s it? He let you go?”

Puker nodded. “I was so grateful I would have puckered up and kissed the bastard, if he’d wanted me to. Anyway, he threw me out of the van in a parking lot and when I got my eyes free I realized I was in Santa Monica, off Delbert Avenue. I found an open coffee shop, got myself some bacon and eggs, then called 911. You know the rest.”

Detective Vasquez nodded. “You’ll find this interesting, Mr. Hodges. There are a lot of people named Ramos, but there’s no record of any Jamie Ramos, there is no van registered in that name, and there is no such business.”

“Well, what about my apartment? His damned fingerprints ought to be all over it. And all over me! Dust me down!”

“Actually, Mr. Hodges, your apartment was treated as a crime scene. We haven’t found any fingerprints that match our computer database. Except yours, of course.”

Puker raised his tearstained face to Daniel. “I guess he’s a criminal and he made up his name. That makes sense, doesn’t it? I don’t know, it’s what he told me. That was the name on the van.”

“Puker.”

His head snapped up and he looked over into the shadows on the far side of the hospital room. “Mary Lisa?”

“Why does he want to hurt me?”

“I told you, Mary Lisa, I don’t know. I don’t think his bulbs were all screwed in, you know what I mean? Most of the time I saw him, he was just pacing or eating pepperoni pizza.” He tapped the side of his head. “But he left, Mary Lisa. He said he was out of there. I think it’s over, for all of us.” He sent her a big toothy smile.

Daniel slowly nodded. He rose, looked over at Jack, eyebrow raised, but Jack shook his head. Daniel turned back to Puker. “We’ll keep someone outside your door, Mr. Hodges, in case Jamie Ramos decides to come pay you a visit. We’ll be inviting you down to the station when you’re discharged for a more formal interview. The doctor said you’ll be going home tomorrow. You’re going to be fine, Mr. Hodges.”

“Thank God. It was agony, believe me.”

“More like divine justice, you little whiner,” Mary Lisa said over her shoulder as Jack crowded her out the door. “And don’t think for a minute I believe that twaddle you made up.”

“It’s the truth, I swear it’s the truth! Oh, sweet Jesus, I hurt.”

Mary Lisa sent him a disgusted look. “I’d like to bean him with the bedpan,” Daniel heard her say before Jack closed the door behind them.

“Twaddle?” Jack cocked an eyebrow at her.

Mary Lisa opened her mouth, but Daniel came out of the room at that moment, his eyes on her face. “You’re right that it’s a just-so story. At the very least he’s holding back something.” Detective Vasquez paused a moment, streaked his fingers through his hair. “At least this Jamie Ramos isn’t a killer. And that’s a very good thing.”

“If there is a Jamie Ramos,” Mary Lisa said. “All right, if there was a guy, do you think he could have stolen the van and put some kind of logo on it? Then driven around in it?”

“Maybe, but it sounds stupid on his part, doesn’t it? Driving around something that identifiable doesn’t seem too bright, unless he only used the van a couple of times. And that starts adding up to a lot of coincidences.”

Mary Lisa suddenly smiled. “Well, finally. I’ve got a way I can help.” She turned and walked away, pulling out her cell phone as she walked.

“Where are you going?”

She said over her shoulder, “I’ve got an appointment in a few minutes, Jack. You heard Puker. It’s safe for me now.”

“Right. And I’m the Sheik of Aran.”

She gave him a cocky grin, tilted her head to the side, and said, “Hmmm. I thought that was a group of islands off the coast of Ireland.” She stepped onto the elevator, and closed the doors before Jack could get there.

Jack slammed his fists against the elevator doors. “Come back here, you twit!”

He heard whistling, growing faint.

Daniel said behind him, “I wonder who she’s calling.”

“It ain’t Ireland, that’s for sure.”