The Daily Novel

CHAPTER XXI

Saturday afternoon, Jerry stopped for a nap. First he placed the harness in the wheelchair, lifted Sue Ellen into the chair, and moved her to the bathtub and suspended her. He figured that if she were to regain consciousness, she would still be unable to do anything, suspended and unable to reach the rope to let herself down. He didn’t worry about noise, as remote as his house was. He left the bathroom door ajar and lay down in the spare bedroom. On days like this, the main bed was reserved for intimacies and ecstasies, not for sleeping.

After the nap, Jerry checked on Sue Ellen and found no change. Relieved, he slipped on a robe and headed to the kitchen. He needed food, and he pulled two chicken pot pies from the freezer and put them in the microwave. He stood and drank long swallows from the ice water bottle, then refilled it at the sink and replaced it in the refrigerator.

Waiting for the food to heat, Jerry stared out the kitchen window at the bare winterscape. He was thinking about how this time was different, delightfully yet disturbingly different. He thought he was beginning to have feelings, real feelings, for Sue Ellen. That hadn’t happened before, ever. Usually when he was this far into a session of his social life, he was already looking toward the challenge of disposal and even to the next round of work he had planned. Not this time.

Jerry knew it would be impossible, but he wondered if there were some way to keep Sue Ellen around for a while. He’d have to figure out some way to feed her, he knew. That wouldn’t be too hard, he guessed. When he started down this thought path, the voice inside him that represented his rabidly paranoid side was virtually screaming at him.

“Are you crazy?! Leave her alone for days at a time, just waiting to be discovered? What if she wakes up? What if she screams? What if you get caught buying IV supplies? Can you even get them without prescription? Don’t. Don’t even think it!”

Jerry knew he wouldn’t do it, knew that it would be impossible, and it was making him a little sad. He really didn’t want this one to be over. There was just something about her that reached him. He thought she was beautiful. He could picture her smiling, laughing. He could conjure an image of her face, relaxed and slightly puffed up after really good sex.  At times, he closed his eyes at just the right moment and called up that image. The effect on him was electrifying. He even thought about taking a few pictures to try to capture what he was imagining. His paranoid voice practically exploded at that thought. No, he wouldn’t do that either. One thing he did decide to do, despite the voice inside, was keep Sue Ellen an extra day. His schedule was flexible, and he was smart enough not to plan specific appointments around his periods of social relaxation.

The microwave pinged, and Jerry turned from the window to pull the two pie pans onto the counter. He poked large holes in both crusts to let the steam out more quickly. He was eager to get back to Sue Ellen. He wasn’t horny-eager. He simply missed her presence and wanted mealtime to be over so he could be with her again, not in the wheelchair, not suspended over the tub, but nestled comfortably into the large bed. Jerry actually sighed at the thought, then got busy on the pot pies. He knew his paranoid side would win, ultimately, so he wanted to take as much advantage as possible of the time he did have.

>>>>>     <<<<<

Harlan’s absorption in the puzzle of which of the four choices of cloverleaf the guy was choosing wrapped him up completely. He lost track of time and everything else. When his cell phone rang, it startled him. He reached to his bib pocket automatically and almost answered before checking caller I.D. It was Gene Snyder.

“Gene,” Harlan said immediately into the phone. “I am so sorry. I should have called you sooner.”

That opening remark set Gene back a bit.

“What are you talking about?” he said. “I have been meaning to call you all day and things keep coming up. Look, believe it or not, things are moving pretty fast here. You guys have a growing fan club here and out there. In here, some of them are still begrudging having to give up the ‘No Way’ stance they took.”

“Gene, can I put you on speaker?” Harlan asked. “Gloria is here and needs to hear what you’ve got.”

“Absolutely,” Gene said, “and I’m conferencing in Betty. Just give me a second.”

“Right,” Harlan said, and set his cell phone on the table with the speaker feature turned on. Gloria grabbed the thermos from the kitchen and sat down next to Harlan. When Craig and Samantha walked in from the hall, she waved them over and waved them silent, a ballet of arm gestures that communicated perfectly.

“Harlan, are you there?” came from the cell phone.

“We’re here,” Harlan said, mercifully not shouting and distorting the sound at the other end. “We have Gloria and Craig and Samantha here.”

“Betty, are you there?” Gene’s voice asked.

“Right here,” Betty’s voice said. “Hey, you all. Incredible work.”

“Thanks,” Gloria and Harlan said simultaneously.

“Let me run down this list of things I have,” Gene said, “then we can talk about next steps. First, the state troopers did get the word in time and were recording Indiana and Ohio plates in the area. Doesn’t do us much good at the moment, but if we do get to the point we need the information, it is part of the official record. That’s good. The sheriff down there is scrambling to explain why he didn’t respond to the request. His crew of deputies didn’t even know about it.”

“Second, the motel registration effort is moving forward. I’ve kept hands off and out of the way on that one — left it with a fellow in the Ohio bureau — state, not federal. Just got off the phone with him, and he says that the story about predicting the abduction has made a huge difference in the cooperation his people are getting from the motel owners. Make a note that we should get him the names of some of those motels near the cafes, strike while the iron is hot.”

“I can work on that and get it to you today,” Gloria said.

“And make sure you do the list with the top possibilities at the top. These guys will start at the top since they have no other information.”

“Will do,” Gloria answered.

“The thing that is going to slow us down is getting the information into a database. Right now, the folks at the state bureau think they can handle it. They’re running two shifts over the weekend. If we get more motel information, I’ll have to put some folks on it.”

“When do you think you’ll be able to run the data on the first four?” Harlan asked.

“Shouldn’t be too long. Why?”

“He still has her with him. Just wondering if it would be possible to, I don’t know, drop in on him before he dumps her,” Harlan said.

“We’re pretty sure,” Gloria added, “that he lives in the Richmond, Indiana area, along I-seventy. So, if you maybe get a hit out of the computer stuff . . .”

“There’s nowhere near enough here to get a warrant,” Gene answered.

“Not picturing a raid, Gene,” Harlan said. “Just a drop by, local law, your name came up or something, just checking. I think a good, experienced cop could get a feel for it right away. Don’t you?”

“Not everyone has your knack,” Betty joined in. “But, there are some that I know who could pull it off. What do you think, Gene?”

“I agree,” Gene said. “First, we make the computer runs. Second we look for Richmond, Indiana and, I guess, that could reach into Ohio. Third we look for a minivan. If we get all of that, I still wouldn’t take it to a judge. I would see it as enough to send somebody to the door.”

“How did you come up with Richmond, Indiana?” Betty asked.

Gloria spelled out the methodology they’d used, relating only the blue dots, estimating the driving time, using the map wheel. When she finished — it told much faster than it took to do — there was silence.

“Would you two ever consider going to Quantico and guest lecturing?” Betty asked. “That is amazing work, incredible thinking.”

“You have something else going, don’t you?” Gene said. “Sundown, driving time — you think you know where he’s going to dump the body, don’t you?”

Harlan and Gloria exchanged glances. Harlan shrugged his shoulders. “We’re working on an idea,” Harlan said.

“You planning to keep us in the loop?” Gene asked.

“The level of confidence we have in our prediction so far, I wouldn’t bother you with it,” Harlan said. “Besides, what would you do with it?”

“At a minimum, record license plate numbers,” Gene responded. “Anything else would depend on the preciseness of the prediction and your confidence in it.”

“You have thought about what would happen if we spook the guy, haven’t you?” Harlan asked. “Like, if you flooded a certain section of the Interstate with patrol cars, and it happened that it was the right section and he saw it.”

“I have,” Gene answered. “He could stop and we’d never find him.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Harlan said. “My concern is that he could change and it would be a couple of years before his new pattern caught our attention, if it ever did.”

“Harlan,” Betty said, “Do I detect a certain lack of trust in the ability of law enforcement personnel to handle this well?”

“Betty, it’s not that, exactly,” Harlan said.

“Well, yes it is,” Gloria jumped in. “Just look at that sheriff in Bowling Green, trying to find a way to duck responsibility. Picture him on a sensitive stakeout.” Harlan glanced at Gloria. This was the first time anyone had said the word.

“A stakeout, is it?” Gene said.

“Could you do that?” Harlan asked quickly, trying to avoid the obvious next question.

“Not me personally,” Gene answered. “I’m too old for that shit.” He paused to let that sink in a little. “I could put in a request for such an operation. I guess the response would depend on how firm your prediction is.”

“Harlan,” Betty said, “Do not try anything silly. This guy kills. We know he has a firearm. This is not a good time for vigilante stuff.”

“I hear you, Betty,” Harlan said.

“And so do I,” Gloria said, with emphasis.

“When you have something you’re comfortable with, will you give me a call?” Gene asked.

“We certainly will,” Gloria answered.

“That wraps it, then,” Gene said.

“One other thing,” Harlan said, “that came up when I spoke with Bobbie Fisher this morning. If we do come up with a prediction, she does not want to know about it, doesn’t even want to know that we did. If it turns out to be wrong, and odds are it will, no harm. But, if it’s right and if we don’t catch the guy, the media will have a field day. So, if there’s a prediction, she suggests that it ought to be very closely held, very. So, Gene, anything in an official report will eventually get out. That’s partly why I’m hesitant about this.”

“Point taken,” Gene said. “Betty, you have my personal number, don’t you?”

“Sure do,” Betty answered.

“Well, I am taking an official day off tomorrow. I’ll probably be around the house, if you decide to call.”

“Point taken,” Betty said.

“Ditto,” Gloria added.

“Okay, we’re done,” Gene said. “Thanks everybody.”

>>>>>     <<<<<

Harlan had the kitchen table completely covered with the black-and-white aerial photos of cloverleafs. On the ones he had completed, there was the identifying number in magic marker, a penciled circle around the quadrant where the body was, and a penciled arrow indicating the likely direction of approach. He was disciplining himself to do the direct work on each cloverleaf before drawing any conclusions. He couldn’t avoid a growing sense of a pattern. It was definitely there. He just would not stop and engage with it until he finished all of them. He had about ten to go.

Gloria emailed her list of motels near the diners and cafes where victims worked. Just for the hell of it, she included the motel where she and Harlan had stayed on their quick trip into the area. She stood and went out onto the porch to grab some fresh air. Craig and Samantha were walking back down the drive from the gate. There was little for them to do, so they chose to check for any unwanted visitors. There were none.  They joined Gloria on the porch, not yet ready to go back inside.

“Do you think Dad is planning to do some sort of stakeout?” Craig asked Gloria.

“Hell, I don’t know,” Gloria answered. “We haven’t talked about it.”

“What if he does?” Craig asked.

“You know your dad,” Gloria said. “If he decides to do it, nothing short of protective custody will stop him.”

“You think it’s a good idea,” Samantha said.

“Maybe,” Gloria answered.

“What about what Gene and Betty said, about the guy being a killer, having a gun?” Craig protested.

“He’s not a killer, he’s a coward,” Gloria snapped. “He lures a woman who thinks she knows him into the car, then shoots her in the head. I think he would pee his pants if he ever faced someone eye-to-eye.”

“But, Gloria….” Samantha started to say.

“But what?” Gloria said, very fast. “Think about it. You know what we’re dealing with here. They’re the same bozos Harlan and I used to complain about and try to beat, and it wasn’t hard to do. Sure, Gene and Betty are exceptions, but they aren’t going to physically get out there and get next to this guy. Even with their best efforts and intentions, it still gets delegated to someone, and there’s not a single ‘someone’ out there that I trust. Not one.”

Craig and Samantha were silent, watching Gloria.

“If we blow this one,” Gloria went on, in a slower, softer voice, “we will lose him, and we just can’t let that happen.”

“So, Dad is going to do a stakeout?” Craig asked.

“We haven’t discussed it,” Gloria reiterated.

The door opened, and Harlan stepped out and joined them on the porch. He smiled.

“Has anyone thought about food?” he asked.

Samantha had an inspiration. “Do you have any steaks?”

“Tons in the freezer,” Harlan answered.

“Got any good, seasoned wood for the fire pit?”

“Plenty,” Harlan said, pointing to the space beneath where they stood.

“I propose, then, that we have steak — out,” she said with a tone of triumph in her voice.

Silence. All eyes were on Harlan. “I don’t know,” he said, looking directly at Samantha. “That’s pretty corny.” The he smiled. The tension broke.

“I’ll get the grate out and the fire fixings,” Harlan said.

I’ll pull some steaks and thaw them,” Gloria added.

“One condition,” Harlan said, and they all stopped. “We’ll have steak out tonight and we won’t discuss stakeout until tomorrow.”