The Night Stalker

PART FOUR
THE NIGHT STALKER
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

T he storm followed me home.

I entered the Sunset to find the jukebox playing the Isley Brothers’ “Twist and Shout.” The Dwarfs sat at the bar clapping their hands and swaying their bodies in unison. They were not feeling any pain, and I wondered if they’d even noticed that I’d been gone.

I took a stool at the end of the bar, and Buster curled up at my feet. Sonny pulled a cold Budweiser out of the cooler, and I drank it and listened to the rain. It was loud enough to compete with the music, and made the bar feel smaller than it was.

It had been a brutal day. I’d had a gun pointed inches from my face, and a couple of bullets fly right past my head. I was going to wake up the next few nights in a cold sweat, thinking about my own mortality. I always did when I nearly got killed.

A clap of thunder shook the building, and made me shudder. I didn’t want to wake up alone, thinking about death. I wanted someone beside me who I could draw close to, and hold in my arms.

The jukebox went silent. I crossed the room, and flipped through the playlist. The Doors’ “Love Her Madly” jumped out at me, and I dropped a dime and hit the play button. Moments later, Jim Morrison’s whiskey-pure voice came belting out of the speakers, and several Dwarfs shouted their approval.

I returned to my stool and listened to the song. All it did was make me think of Rose and how much I missed her. Grabbing my dog, I headed upstairs.

Sitting on my bed, I dialed Rose’s number. It was an ungodly hour to be calling someone, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to hear my wife’s voice, and I felt my heartbeat quicken when she picked up.

“Hey, honey,” I said.

“Oh, Jack, I’m so glad it’s you,” Rose replied.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes. Where are you? It’s so noisy.”

The music was trailing up from downstairs. I hopped off the bed, and shut the door with my foot. “I’m at my place. What’s going on?”

“I just got off the phone with our daughter,” Rose said. “Jessie has been talking to Heather Rinker. She wanted to see how Heather was doing. Heather said the police are following her wherever she goes. Heather also thinks her cell phone is being tapped. She told Jessie that she saw a policeman with a rifle on the roof across the street from her mother-in-law’s house. Heather thinks the police are using her as bait to draw out Jed.”

“Heather saw a sharpshooter?” I asked.

“That’s what Jessie said.”

It had been a long, shitty day, and what my wife was saying made it that much worse. The Broward cops never used sharpshooters. This was the FBI’s doing. Whitley had decided to lay a trap for Jed.

“I’m calling Jessie right now,” I said.

“Please let me know what happens.”

“I will. There was another reason I called.”

“What’s that?”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” Rose said.

I called my daughter and got voice mail. I left a message for her to call me back. Then I went to my window, and watched the storm churn up the ocean. Sharpshooters on the roof meant that the FBI was planning to take out Jed once they laid eyes on him. They didn’t want to hear his side of things, or give him due process. Maybe they thought he was too dangerous. Or maybe Whitley was looking for another scalp to add to his collection.

My phone rang. Caller ID said JESSIE.

“Hey, honey,” I answered. “I just got off the phone with your mom. She told me what was going on.”

“Can you do something?” my daughter asked.

“I’m going to try,” I said. “I want to ask you something. Do you think Heather has been talking to Jed? If so, the FBI is probably listening to their conversations. It would explain why the FBI is using her as bait.”

“Heather made me swear not to tell, but yes, she is.”

“Okay, then here’s what I want you to do. Call Heather, and tell her that I think Jed is innocent, and that I’m willing to take him to the police, and guarantee his safety.”

“You’ll do that?”

“Yes. Jed will be much safer in police custody than he is in hiding. If one of those FBI sharpshooters spots him, it’s all over.”

“Should I tell Heather that?”

“Do whatever you have to do,” I said.

I stood by my window and listened to the rain pound the roof. It sounded like a thousand tiny hammers on my skull, and I felt the anger and frustration inside of me rising to the surface.

Jed Grimes had been set up. I didn’t know who was responsible, or what their motivation was. What I did know was that he’d done a masterful job of convincing the police and the FBI. If I didn’t get to Jed first, he was history.

My phone rang, and I pulled it from my pocket. Caller ID said UNKNOWN.

“Carpenter here,” I answered.

A car horn blared in the background, along with other street noises. Then a young woman said, “Mr. Carpenter, this is Heather Rinker. I’m standing at a pay phone next to a convenience store two blocks from my mother-in-law’s house. I wanted to call you without the FBI listening in.”

“I guess you spoke to Jessie,” I said.

“Yeah. She explained your offer to help Jed. I thought it was a good idea, so I came over here and called him. Jed wants to do it.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“Come to the store, and I’ll take you to where Jed’s hiding out.”

“That sounds like a plan, Heather. I’m leaving right now.”

“No. Wait until it gets light.”

“Why?”

“There are too many FBI agents hiding in the neighborhood. They’ve got rifles. Jed’s scared of getting shot, and so am I.”

The fear in her voice was almost palpable.

“All right,” I said.

“I’m going to give you my cell number. Call it when you leave. I’ll slip out of my mother-in-law’s house, and meet you at the convenience store. Then we’ll go see Jed.”

I grabbed a pen and piece of paper off my night table. “Go ahead.”

She gave me her cell phone number. Her voice was strained, and I sensed that she was holding something back. “Is there something you want to tell me, Heather?”

“I’m just afraid,” she said.

“Nothing is going to happen to Jed. You have to believe that.”

“I do. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

She started to reply, then hung up.