The King Tides

Chapter 11 The Call

He walked to the New River gallery holding a paper napkin he’d borrowed from the coffee shop to his wounded ear. Just as the Canadian had started to bite him, he’d instinctively yanked his head and managed to avoid serious injury. His body was adorned with bullet scars from his military days, and losing a piece of his ear wouldn’t have been the worst thing to happen to him.

New River sold museum-quality artwork that found its way into many wealthy homes. The Pearls stood in the rear of the gallery by a group of new age sculptures made of acrylic. There were a half dozen in all, and each resembled a horse. Nicki was mesmerized and stared at the sculptures longingly while clasping her parents’ hands.

The family turned as he approached, their faces hopeful. His plan to use Nicki as bait had failed miserably, and he decided it would be best to tell them so.

“I struck out,” he said.

Pearl said, “What happened to the side of your head? Did he attack you?”

He removed the napkin and saw a tiny spot of blood. “He ran into the street and got hit by a UPS truck. I attempted to have a talk with him while he was lying on the ground, and he tried to bite me.”

Pearl recoiled in horror. “He bit you? What kind of animal does such a thing?”

He’d seen worse behavior from suspects, only talking about it wouldn’t add anything to the conversation. “According to the airline ticket in his pocket, he flew into Fort Lauderdale from Toronto this morning. Does that mean anything?”

Pearl shook his head. “I don’t know anyone from Toronto.”

“Neither do I,” Melanie said.

He shifted his attention to Nicki. She had grown unusually quiet, and he sensed that she was holding back. “How about you, young lady?”

Nicki released her parents’ hands and stared at the floor. “A strange man called the house from Toronto last week. I spoke to him. We didn’t talk very long.”

Her parents looked shocked. Melanie said, “You spoke to a stranger? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I thought you’d be mad at me,” she said.

“And you were right,” her mother said.

Lancaster gently touched Nicki’s shoulder, and she lifted her gaze.

“Tell me what you said to him,” he said.

“I’d just gotten home from school and was in the kitchen making a snack when the phone rang,” she explained. “I didn’t recognize the number on caller ID, so I ignored it. Then it rang again. Same number. I was curious, so I checked the area code on my iPad using Google, and saw the call was from Toronto. I don’t know why, but I answered it. The caller was a man, and he was very excited. He called me this weird name, and I told him that he had the wrong number. He asked me what I was wearing and some other stuff, and I hung up.”

Lancaster spent a moment processing this information. There was no doubt in his mind that the caller was the creep who’d just bitten him. But why had he called? And why would he have spent the time and money to fly here if Nicki had hung up on him?

“Did he call back?” he asked.

“Yeah, a couple of times,” Nicki said, sounding ashamed.

“Did you take his calls?”

“No, I was freaked out. I just wanted him to go away.”

“You said he called you a weird name. Do you remember what it was?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head.

It was not uncommon for victims to block out details from bad experiences. This was especially true when the victims were young and vulnerable. He crouched down so he was eye-level with Nicki and said, “I think you do remember, but shoved the name into the recesses of your memory. I want you to help me drag it out. Can you do that?”

“Sure,” she said. “Is this an interrogation trick?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Will you teach it to me, so I can show my class at school?”

“I’d be happy to. I want you to close your eyes and imagine you’ve just gotten home from school. You’re standing in the kitchen fixing a snack.” Nicki closed her eyes and wrinkled her forehead in concentration. “Good. Now imagine you hear the phone ring. You check the caller ID and see it’s from Toronto. You hesitate, but decide to answer it. You say hello, and it’s a strange man. He calls you a name.”

Nicki’s eyes snapped open. “Got it!”

“You remember the name?”

“He called me Cassandra.”

“Cassandra. That’s great, Nicki. Is there anything else you remember?”

“He was breathing hard, like he’d just run a race.”

“Very good. Anything else?”

“There was a movie playing in the background.”

“How could you tell?”

“I could hear a woman talking, only I couldn’t understand what she was saying. She kept talking while the man was speaking to me, so I knew it was a movie.”

“Did you make out what the woman in the movie was saying?”

“No. She was talking in a quiet voice, real seductive. I thought he might be watching a porno.”

Melanie let out a tiny gasp. She’d come to the same conclusion that Lancaster had, which was that the caller from Toronto was masturbating while talking to Nicki.

“Okay, so you think the man from Toronto was watching a porno movie, and that he was out of breath. You said that he asked you what you were wearing, and some other stuff. Do you remember what that other stuff was?”

“He wanted to meet me. He asked me if I was okay with that.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. I hung up.”

“Is there anything else you remember? Think hard.”

Nicki gave it some thought and shook her head. “No, that’s it. I guess I should have told my parents. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “The call was from another country. You thought he was a weirdo and hung up, and then you forgot about it. Those are natural reactions when dealing with a situation like that. You did nothing wrong.”

Nicki hugged her mother and then her father, and everything was good between them again. Lancaster walked to the front of the gallery and stared out onto the street. There were no suspicious-acting males lurking about, and he spent a moment adding the things Nicki had told him to what he already knew. It still didn’t make any sense, unless there was a piece to the puzzle that he wasn’t seeing. Pearl appeared by his side.

“We’re hungry. Do you think it’s safe to get lunch?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“The Cheesecake Factory down the street. It’s Nicki’s favorite restaurant.”

“Okay, but you need to let me pick the table.”

“Of course, Jon. Whatever you think is best.”

“Let me ask you something. This guy from Toronto called the landline in your house. Is that number listed in the phone book?”

“The house line is unlisted. I don’t know how he got it.”

Nicki’s stalkers were determined, and they were resourceful. In his experience, that made them the worst kind of adversary.

“Let’s get some lunch,” he said.