Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

S tanding before her mirror, Yoanni downed the last sip of her café con leche. She gave her image one last look in the mirror and sighed. Work clothes were such a bore.

Honestly.

Clothing didn’t affect her ability to take dictation, type, and assist her boss. Why couldn’t she wear one of her comfy overalls and sneakers to the station?

And give Captain Weaver a heart attack?

She giggled, thinking of his reaction.

Dressing should be easy. It wasn’t, and Friday mornings were the worst. By the end of the workweek, she’d run out of choices and inspiration.

One last desperate search through her closet saved the day. She retrieved an almost-forgotten aqua top pushed behind a ton of old stuff, then put it together with the black skirt she’d worn on Monday.

Perfect. The outfit worked. No heart attack for Captain Weaver .

She returned her cup to the kitchen sink, ran the water, and stopped. Someone was knocking at her front door.

“Coming,” she shouted.

The knock repeated, and she shouted again, “I said I’m coming. Hey, give me a minute.” She pulled the front door open as she spoke. “I don’t stand next to the door.” She gasped. Andrea, the neighbor who lived at the end of her block, stood on the other side. Embarrassment flushed Yoanni’s face. “I’m sorry, Andrea. I didn’t mean to shout.”

“It’s okay, dear.” Andrea smiled, and her thin, prematurely aging skin broke into tiny lines everywhere. “I realize you weren’t expecting me, and I’m sure you’re getting ready for work. I won’t keep you long.”

“You know me, I can get a bit loud when running around. But I’ve got time. Please come in. Would you like some coffee? I can make you café con leche. It’s really good. My family raves about it.”

“I’m sure you make great coffee,” Andrea said, her pale blue eyes crinkling with amusement. “Next time, I’ll take you up on it. But this morning, I’ve already had two mugs, and that’s enough caffeine for one day.”

“Okay. I’ll hold you to it, but please, come in.” Yoanni waved, urging Andrea to enter her home.

Andrea Miller was a sweet and quiet neighbor. Yoanni had met her within the first week of moving to her cottage. She’d knocked at Yoanni’s door with a welcome-to-the-neighborhood peach cobbler, which she inhaled within two days. The friendship bloomed on the spot.

Knowing Yoanni lived alone, Andrea stopped by on occasion to check on her, and she watched the bungalow while Yoanni went to work. During her leave in Miami, she trusted the lady so much, she gave her keys to check the house. Andrea had taken care of her mail and other matters, including watering the constantly thirsty pothos. As it turned out, the plant thrived in Yoanni’s absence, thanks to Andrea’s green thumb.

At Yoanni’s urging, Andrea moved five feet inside her foyer and no farther. “I really don’t want to delay you. I came to talk to you because I thought you should know.”

“Okay.” Yoanni folded her hands, waiting.

“Last night, when Mr. Miller came home at the end of his shift… You know how the plant keeps him late sometimes.”

Yoanni nodded, keeping her amusement private. Andrea always referred to her husband as Mr. Miller.

“As he drove past your house, he saw a young man on your sidewalk. Well, he thinks it was a young man. He sat on a motorcycle, staring at your house. Mr. Miller flickered his lights, but the man didn’t move or ride away.”

A motorcycle? Yoanni’s stomach jumped.

“Did Mr. Miller happen to see any features?” Yoanni asked carefully. “Something recognizable?”

Andrea tightened her eyebrows. “No… He didn’t mention any memorable details. Only that the young man didn’t move when he drove past. Mr. Miller parked in the garage in a hurry. He wanted to see if the biker fella was still watching your house, but he slipped on a garden tool. By the time he walked out, the man had left, and Buddy, the O’Connor boy, was standing outside.”

“Did Buddy say anything to Mr. Miller?”

“Not much. Only that the man rode away after Buddy slowed his SUV and parked.”

“I see,” Yoanni murmured.

But did she see?

Her thudding heart told her the young man was Barron. He’d used the cover of night and the late hour to stop by her place. Because he didn’t have the guts to face the heartache he’d left behind. Before Barron Priestly, Yoanni had known infatuation, but love? Never. Barron was the first, the conqueror of her wild virgin heart. He’d inspired monumental emotions she could barely contain and manage, a love that would last a lifetime on this earth and beyond…

“Are you all right, sweetheart?”

She gasped and rubbed her temple. “Sorry. Yes, I’m fine. I was thinking if I knew anyone who’d fit that description.” She shook her head. “But I came up empty.”

Congratulations. You lie like a pro.

“Yoanni, you are going to tell Captain Weaver, right? He could assign an officer to watch your place.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. It was only one time. For all we know, this guy had the wrong house. I don’t want to bother the captain with something unimportant.”

“Unimportant? Don’t take this lightly. It could happen again.”

She knew better. If the man Mr. Miller had seen last night was Barron, that was a one-time moment of weakness. He’d never come back.

What if it’s not him?

“Agreed. You have a point,” Yoanni said. “I’ll mention the biker to Captain Weaver at the first opening I get.” Which meant that would never happen. Captain Weaver’s schedule rarely lightened.

“Promise?” Andrea’s soft eyes searched her face.

Yoanni gave Andrea her most open smile. The kind she reserved for her worried Mami or when the captain was overwhelmed with reports and needed the support of his trustworthy assistant.

“I promise.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re warning the captain.” Andrea started walking to the door. “Safety is everything. Don’t take anything for granted.”

“I won’t.” Yoanni walked with her the short distance to the doorway and opened the door for her.

Andrea stepped out, then jerked to a stop. “My goodness. I’m getting old and forgetting things.” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket. “I found this when I knocked. It was inserted into your door.”

Frowning, Yoanni shook her head as she unfolded the sheet of paper. Several circular shapes had been drawn in ink on the paper. At first glance, the figures were similar to astrology charts and symbols. Then she was reminded of sigils or heraldry forms used in the historical fantasy and adventure books she loved to read. Two were perfect circles with an oddly shaped script, similar to a written language inside. The other figure was made of two straight lines crossing and a circle underneath the intersecting point. This bottom circle was also filled with odd forms and designs. Actually, several shapes spiking out of the crossed lines reminded her of feathers.

Despite the alienness and oddity of the figures, a peculiar sense of familiarity filled her mind. Had she seen similar drawings somewhere else…?

“Okay.” She shrugged. “Maybe someone had the wrong house.”

“It’s possible,” Andrea said. “Do you think the bike man and these images are somehow connected?”

“For the life of me, I have no clue. I’m at a complete loss here.”

“Interesting… All righty, I told you about last night, and now I’m going home. Don’t forget to tell Captain Weaver. I’ll see you later or tonight.”

She smiled. “Sounds good, Andrea. See you soon.”

Yoanni locked her front door. She picked up her bag as she walked out of the laundry room to her garage. After turning on the ignition, she opened the door with her remote and drove out. Moments later, as she merged with the Garden City morning traffic, the drawings and the biker fell out of her thoughts.

Friday turned out to be the busiest day at the station in memory. Yoanni made it to seven p.m., physically exhausted and mentally burned out. Sleepy little Garden City was no more. Crime had spread its deadly tentacles toward the city and showed no signs of retreating.

An armed robber hit a family-owned jewelry store on Main with grave consequences. One store attendant had died during the robbery when he attempted to fight the gunman. The second clerk hid in the storage room and escaped injury. The owner had been rushed to the hospital with several gunshot wounds. The poor man hung on to life by a thread.

The station had been a humming beehive. Phones rang off the hook. While Yoanni and Betty fielded nonstop calls, officers and detectives rushed in and out, asking for files and documents. The media sent reporters to the station, forcing the sergeant in charge to abandon his duties to pacify their requests with limited information.

Captain Weaver had sped to the scene. Once he supervised the ongoing investigation and the remains were released to the morgue, he rushed to the hospital, where he tried to comfort the jeweler’s distraught family. He returned barking orders left and right, asking for scene reports and witnesses’ accounts if any were available. Yoanni and Betty could barely keep up with the endless demand. The only highlight of the day had been a surprise from Margie from the diner. She heard about the robbery and immediately sent complimentary lunches to the station.

By six thirty, the bedlam started to wind down. “Go home, Betty,” Yoanni said. “Enough for one day.”

“Are you sure?” Betty lifted her pad. “I haven’t finished this one.”

“Where is it going?”

Betty squinted, reading her own symbols. “This one’s addressed to the mayor of Savannah. ”

Yoanni rubbed her palms over her face and blinked. She needed eyedrops. The computer had sucked all the moisture from her eyes. “That one’s just protocol. It can wait till you come back on Monday. We’ve handled the important stuff. Take a break.”

“Monday? Won’t you need me tomorrow?”

She shook her finger. “That’s overtime, and the captain hasn’t authorized it, yet. But trust me, from now until the robber is picked up, this station is going to be pandemonium.”

“Why?”

“First of all, the perpetrator is still at large. A stream of real and fake witnesses will be calling with all sorts of sightings and wild stories. The captain will digest their information, and then you and I will be responsible for data input. That doesn’t happen in one day.”

“I thought officers were in charge of data.”

Yoanni smirked. “They write the reports, and because the department is seriously understaffed, we get to complete the process for them.”

“Oh.”

“Exactly. More work for us. Go home, Betty.”

“Okay.” Betty stopped resisting. She gathered her unfinished documents into a small pile, slid everything inside her top drawer, and locked it closed. “If you’re sure.” She lifted her bag.

“I’m sure.” Yoanni waved. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Betty nodded. As she reached the doorway leading to the station’s main entrance, she stopped. “Are we still good for Saturday night?”

Yoanni pulled her hair up in a haphazard bun and stuffed a pen through it to hold it in place. She’d forgotten about Betty’s suggestion to go out. “I’ll let you know tomorrow. It depends on the workload the captain has for me. If not, can we shoot for the following weekend? ”

Betty nodded. “I don’t see why not. Get some rest, Yoanni. Don’t let him keep you too long.”

She waved her fingers. “I won’t.”

With Betty gone, Yoanni put her papers together, dropped them in the drawer with the new combination lock, and rolled the numbers. She wasn’t taking any chances with things disappearing from her desk ever again, then moved to the captain’s office.

The door was open. She found him scribbling on a pad without lifting his head. She sat down, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence. Damn, she hurt everywhere. Weariness was taking over. It had been an emotional roller coaster kind of day.

A few minutes passed in silence. Finished, he glanced up at her. “I’m requesting a raise for you. You deserve every penny. The council better not deny me.”

“Wow! I didn’t expect that at all. I’m touched.”

“You work like no one I’ve ever known.” He tossed back the pad. “There’s efficiency, and there’s excellence. You’re in the last category. I want you to go home now, because I’m expecting you tomorrow. You know that, right?”

“I figured.” She nodded. “I told Betty as much and warned her we were going to be busy until the perp was picked up or the case disappeared under a pile of bureaucratic red tape.”

“Hmm, I hate to say it, but I agree with you. And as long as we’re understaffed, perps will fall through the cracks. I know the answer, but I have to ask. Are we all caught up?”

“We are. Betty has one pending letter. It’s going to Savannah’s mayor. I told her it could wait and sent her home.”

“Good. Is she working out for you?”

“She’s getting there. One day, she’ll know the ropes and be better than me.”

“No one will ever fit into your shoes, Yoanni. When they made you, they broke the mold. You’re done for the night. Go home. ”

“Okay, Captain.” She stood. Crap, she was more than ready. “What time tomorrow?”

He let out a short breath. “Make it nine a.m. For heaven’s sake, it’s Saturday and your day off. I don’t want to see you here before that.”

“You won’t, promise. Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Yoanni.”

Yoanni sped past her desk, picked up her shoulder bag on her way, and kept on going. Despite the late hour, plenty of light illuminated the parking lot thanks to the time change. As she approached her Camry, she noticed a rectangular object, reminded her of an electronic planner, but thicker, sitting on the hood and frowned. What could this thing be?

As she approached, a slow wave of ice descended on her. She got closer, and her heart went on a wild stampede, thudding so hard, her chest ached. Now her hands trembled as painful adrenaline pins and needles rushed through her. Panic invaded her mind. The parking lot tilted. Her legs wobbled, and the odd thought about striking the cement if she fell passed through her mind. Leaning all her weight against her car, she sent mental commands to her lungs to slow down and her system to ease up enough to allow her to seek help inside the station.

“Are you okay, Ms. Sanz?”

She knew the voice. It belonged to Officer Billings. Staring at the ground, she shook her head. “Can you help me? I don’t want to fall.”

“Hold on.” Without delay, Officer Billings scooped her in his arms and carried her back to the station. “Call Captain Weaver to the front. Now,” he shouted to the startled duty officer behind the bulletproof glass divider. Gently, he put her down on a reception chair. “The captain will be right over. Let me get you some water.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, feeling much better now that she was far from the hellish object on her car .

“Yoanni,” Captain Weaver’s deep voice thundered. “Are you hurt?”

“No, sir. But you have to see.”

Kneeling before her, he grabbed her hand. “God, you’re like ice. See what?”

“It’s outside, sitting on the hood of my car. The beige Camry.”

Billings returned with a bottle of water. “She’s pretty pale. Water should help, Captain.”

“I know your car. Billings, you stay with her. I’ll be right back.”

Captain Weaver strode out to the parking lot. The panic subsided, and she sighed with relief as the warmth of circulation returned to her body. He came back several minutes later, a perplexed expression on his face.

“I don’t understand,” he said, holding up the object. “This is what got to you?”

She lifted a trembling finger. “That’s the calculator my father gave me when I started working here.”

He lifted his salt-and-pepper eyebrows. “The one missing from your desk?”

“Yes, sir.” She hated the whimper in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. “My guess is the person who took it decided to give it back.”

“And we’re going to find out who the hell it was,” he growled, then turned to the officer on duty. “Call Sergeant Benson and tell him to meet me in the security camera room. We have to watch the parking lot feed from today. Billings, help Yoanni to the room. If she still can’t walk, carry her. We’re getting to the bottom of this.” He stomped out of reception.

“Of course, sir.” Billings’s trembling voice trailed him.

She felt sympathy for the officer. Captain Weaver could be pretty intense when he wanted. “I think I can walk,” she said with an encouraging smile.

“I have my orders, Ms. Sanz. I’m not leaving your side.” He offered his hand to assist her up, then his arm. Leaning on Billings’s arm, she walked out of reception and down the long hallway to the security camera room. Captain Weaver and Sergeant Benson were already there.

“We started watching before you came in to cover our bases. So far, we’ve seen you park and walk to the station without any suspicious activity around you,” the captain said, directing her to an empty chair next to him.

She sat without a word, watching in awe as the camera played back the recorded comings and goings that took place in the station’s parking garage throughout the day. It had been an exceptionally busy day. Of course. Whoever had returned the calculator had chosen the perfect opportunity.

They still had quite a few hours of feed to go through. Sergeant Benson fast-forwarded the video, but not so fast that they would miss something. About thirty minutes went by, and Yoanni started to get antsy. She fidgeted in her chair, and the captain gave her a scowl.

As he turned to face the camera, Sergeant Benson pointed. “There. Let me rewind. I think we got something.”

The Little in her got tickled as people and things moved backward at a quick pace. Yoanni giggled, then squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t have to look to know the captain had glared at her.

“Stop,” the captain said. “Back up. Now go forward slowly.”

Her skin erupted with goose bumps. There was malice in the person approaching her Camry. Whoever it was wore concealing black pants, a hoodie, and gloves, thereby covering the hand’s skin color as the individual placed the calculator on the hood of her car.

“This individual is familiar with our procedures and knows the angle of our cameras,” the captain grumbled. “Check out the movements. The back is turned to the camera at all times.”

“Wanted to scare me,” she whispered. “And it worked. ”

“What do you want me to do?” Sergeant Benson asked.

“Appoint one of your guys to go through the recording and this spot in particular with a fine-toothed comb. We might get lucky and catch a reflection in a side mirror.”

“Good idea,” Sergeant Benson said. “And I know just the person to do it. Leave it with me.”

Captain Weaver stood. “I want a report as soon as possible. We’re done here, Yoanni.”

As they exited to the hallway, Captain Weaver said, “Billings will follow you home. It’ll make me feel better, so don’t fight me on this. Damn it. I should’ve pulled the office videos when you said things had gone missing. But that’s one hell of an undertaking. We’re talking months. If we get nothing from this recording, I may revisit that idea. Are you with me?”

“Yes, Captain.”

He turned to the officer. “Billings?”

“I heard you, sir. I’m following her home.”

“Try to rest, Yoanni. It’s going to be a hectic week.”

Yoanni winced. Easier said than done. She could only hope this person was satisfied with scaring her this one time and no more.