Blind Spot (20 page)

Suki pushed Alexa behind her. Alexa began screaming, but Suki went dead calm. “Go up to my bedroom,” she ordered. “Sit in the middle of the bed.” Her bedroom was on the second floor and the windows were the farthest from the ground that sloped toward the backyard. Unfortunately, what she and Stan had always loved about this house were the huge expanses of glass in every room. She pushed Alexa toward the stairs. “Go.” Alexa went.

Suki stomped to the kitchen window. She looked through the fractured edges of broken glass into her backyard. There was no one there. It looked peaceful and pleasant and safe in the early evening sunlight. Then there was a rustle in the trees at the west edge of the lawn. “Get out of here, you spineless punks!” she screamed through the gaping hole. “Get out!”

She bent down and picked up the beer bottle. Budweiser.
MURDERER
was scrawled across the label in red marker. Kids. Stupid, stupid kids. Although Ellery could easily have put them up to it, Suki thought. Or maybe the witness. The witness could have lots of reasons for wanting Alexa to keep quiet. Suki carefully placed the bottle on the table, word side to the wall, and dialed 911.

After talking with the police dispatcher, Suki went up to her bedroom. Alexa’s hysteria had subsided into deep sobbing, and Suki held her while they waited for the police. They waited a long time.

It was almost an hour before a surly patrolman rang the doorbell. He was in and out in five minutes, asking few questions and writing down nothing. He took the bottle, walked the perimeter of the property and told her he would be in touch if they came up with anything. Suki knew he never would. She called both Mike and Kenneth, but didn’t reach either.

Kyle came home and the two of them silently cleaned the kitchen. Alexa stayed in Suki’s room, huddled in the middle of the bed. Glass had found its way into everything, and Alexa’s vegetable stew had to be thrown out. No one was very hungry anyway. Suki called the few glass replacement outlets listed in the yellow pages, but everyone was closed for the day. She and Kyle found three pieces of poster board in the back of the basement and taped them inside the frame of the broken window. One was blue, one yellow and one hot pink.

When they were finished, Kyle disappeared into his room and Suki went to check on Alexa. She was stretched out on Suki’s bed, her arm thrown over her eyes. She appeared to be sleeping.

Suki sat down and lightly kissed Alexa’s forehead.

Alexa eyes flickered, but didn’t open. Suki wasn’t sure if she was awake or asleep.

“The police have come and gone,” Suki told her anyway. “The coast is clear and Kyle and I cleaned up the kitchen.”

“Sleep,” Alexa muttered. Her breathing was deep and even. “Sleep.”

“Yes,” Suki said, “you sleep. You sleep here and I’ll spend the night in your room.” She flipped each side of the bedspread up and gently folded them around Alexa.

Alexa’s eyes fluttered open. “Tell Lindsey I don’t want to talk to her,” she said, then her lids dropped and her breathing became slow and regular.

“Sure, baby, sure. Don’t worry. You don’t have to talk to Lindsey,” Suki said, even though she couldn’t remember Alexa ever mentioning a friend named Lindsey. She tiptoed out of the room.

Kyle’s light was out, unusual this early in the evening, so Suki wandered downstairs. The sight of the garish colors in the kitchen window sent her down the other half flight to the family room. She tried watching television, but nothing could keep her attention, nothing could stop her from jumping at every sound, from bristling at every passing car. She would look into a security system tomorrow.

Suki switched from a hospital drama to an old Clint Eastwood movie, then to a political talk show where they were vehemently discussing campaign finance reform. She returned to Clint then switched it off. She got Phyllis’s printout and spread it across her lap. There were so many names. When the phone at her elbow rang, she was glad for the distraction and picked up the receiver before the second ring.

“Collect call for Alexa Jacobs, please,” a mechanical voice intoned. “From Lindsey Kern.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T
here were forty-two dark midsize late-model Chevrolets registered to residents of Witton. One belonged to Jake, the old man who owned the Stone Store, one belonged to Rick Rogers, the principal of the elementary school, and one belonged to Darcy Ward. Suki figured she was pretty safe eliminating those three. That left thirty-nine. She folded Phyllis’s printout and poured the rest of her coffee down the sink. She’d have another cup at the office.

Alexa and Kyle had left for school together, not a usual occurrence, and although they both ate breakfast without mentioning the broken window, Suki noticed their shoulders were almost touching as they walked to the bus stop. She hadn’t told Alexa about Lindsey’s call.

Suki was amazed at the security breach at the prison. According to Massachusetts law, prisoners can make collect calls at designated times, but their phone use is restricted by computerized PIN cards embedded with a short list of approved numbers, usually only a lawyer and close family members. Suki could not imagine how the superintendent had allowed her home number to be added to Lindsey’s list. As Suki had refused to accept the charges, she hadn’t heard Lindsey’s explanation, but she had put in a call to Rizzo’s office.

“
Tell Lindsey I don’t want to talk to her
,” Alexa had said at least an hour before Lindsey had phoned.

Suki put Phyllis’s printout in her briefcase along with the court transcripts and grand jury testimony she was going to need to work on the Kern evaluation this afternoon. She had three patients to see in the morning and a lunch meeting with a lawyer on a new case, but planned to spend the rest of the day focused on Lindsey. Somehow she had to squeeze in some time with the witness list—and figure out what she was going to do next. Suki was haunted by an unsettling vision of herself as the only thing standing between Alexa and an arrest warrant.

The doorbell rang, and Suki looked out Alexa’s bedroom window to see who was there; she had learned not to answer the door or pick up the phone without knowing who wanted to speak to her. Kenneth Pendergast stood on the stoop, and an unmarked police car—which looked just like an unmarked police car—was parked in the driveway. She flew down the half flight of stairs and threw open the front door.

“Are you all right?” Kenneth demanded, looking her over closely. “Alexa? Kyle?” He was so serious, his warm brown eyes so intently focused, that Suki was touched.

“We’re fine.” Suki took him by the arm and gently pulled him into the house. “Come in. Please.”

“I saw the bottle.”

“I’m guessing it was kids—and I can also guess who put them up to it.”

“You don’t know that,” Kenneth said, following her into the kitchen.

“Oh yes, I do.”

Kenneth silently contemplated the garishly colored window. “How long did it take for Bob to show up last night?”

“Almost an hour.”

“How long did he stay?”

“Five minutes. Maybe ten.”

“Charlie,” Kenneth muttered. “What a shit.” Then he raised his eyebrows at Suki. “Sorry.”

“I’m a lot more concerned about Charlie Gasperini than I am about your language.” She attempted to smile, but her muscles responded to her real feelings, not her feigned ones, and she felt her mouth twist into a grimace. “I say a lot worse,” she tried again for levity, “all the damn time.”

Kenneth crossed his arms and strode through the kitchen, into the dining room, through the living room, back into the kitchen. “I saw the report,” he said, inspecting the edge of the window. “Bob claimed there was no one around. No other damage. Is that true?”

Suki nodded again. “Kenneth,” she said, “I’ve got to talk to you. I need your help, but I can’t do it now.” She glanced at the clock. “I’ve got a patient to see in twenty minutes. A full day of work. But I want to start looking for the witness. Actually, I
have
started looking for the witness. I think it’s Alexa’s only—”

“What do you mean, you’ve already started?” Kenneth interrupted.

Suki pulled the printout from her briefcase. “Three hundred and fifty-seven late-model dark Chevrolets registered here and in the fifteen surrounding towns—forty-two in Witton.”

Kenneth flipped through the printout and whistled in appreciation. “Chevrolets?” he asked.

“Psychologists are trained to help people retrieve memories. I got Alexa to be more specific.”

He handed the sheaf of papers back to her. “You should’ve been a cop.”

Despite the situation, Suki felt a rush of pride. She shrugged.

“But you have to stop,” Kenneth said. “We don’t know why this person drove away. There’s got to be a damn good reason for someone to leave a dying kid alone in the road—my bet is it’s a dangerous one.”

“Nothing’s more dangerous than a police force that thinks my daughter’s a murderer—and a police chief who’s more intent on proving she’s guilty than on finding the person who really did it.” Suki shoved the witness list into her briefcase and grabbed her purse from the counter. “I’ll do what I have to do.” She nodded curtly. “I’ve got to go now.”

Kenneth reluctantly allowed himself to be led to the front door. “It’s not that I disagree with you, Suki. I don’t. And I’d probably feel the same way if it were my kid. But people are angry.” He gestured toward the kitchen window. “And there are lots of things more deadly than beer bottles.”

Suki thought of all Kenneth had done since that first day he found Alexa confused and wandering down River Road. She was sorry she had been short. She touched the lapel of his jacket. “Kenneth, I appreciate your concern, I really do, but Mike Dannow told me the arrest could come as soon as a week.” Suki turned her palms toward the ceiling. “She’s my daughter.”

“Can you give me a couple of days?” Kenneth pleaded. “Can you just lay off for two days? That’s all I ask. Let me see what I can stir up down at the station. What I can find out.”

Suki lifted her briefcase. “Are they going to let you follow up on this list? Look for the gun? Finger the person who’s behind all of this?”

Kenneth was unfazed by her questions. “Can you copy that list for me?”

“Sure.” Suki lowered the briefcase. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Run it through the MEAPS computer for matches. Felons, warrants, parole violations—that kind of thing.”

Relief flooded through Suki. She wasn’t the only person standing between Alexa and an arrest warrant. “That’d be great,” she said. “Just great.”

“I’ll also see if I can get some action on the weapon angle,” Kenneth said. “And I’m going to get protection on your house. Make sure a patrol car comes by here at least once an hour.”

“I don’t know how I can—”

“You can thank me by sitting still for a couple of days. By letting
me
be the cop.” He opened the door and stepped out on the stoop. He turned. “Can you do that for me?”

Suki shrugged. “I’ll try, but—”

Kenneth held up his hands. “No buts,” he said. “I’ll give you a ring tonight and let you know where I am.”

“Thanks,” Suki called. “Thanks for everything.”

He waved off her thanks and climbed into his car. It was a dark midsize late-model Chevrolet.

Suki didn’t do as Kenneth asked. Too much was at stake for her to sit still. After a full day of listening to other people’s problems, pitching for a new case and preparing for her next interview with Lindsey, Suki took her witness list and a map of Witton and went cruising. She hadn’t had time to plot out a logical route, so she looped up and down the listed streets in a haphazard, nonsensical manner. After she had driven by dozens of empty houses and seen five or six dark Chevys parked in driveways and along front yards, Suki realized she had no idea what she was doing. Where this was going. She drove home.

Alexa was bent over her homework at the kitchen table. As she hugged her daughter, Suki realized she was acting like a fool. There was no point in
her
looking at the cars. It was Alexa who needed to see them. Kenneth was wrong. She wouldn’t have made a very good cop.

“Yo.” Kyle wandered in and took a bag of cookies from the cabinet. He ripped the bag open, grabbed a large handful and stuffed them in his mouth faster than Suki would have believed possible. There is nothing more gluttonous than a fourteen-year-old boy. Except, Jen had warned her, a seventeen-year-old one.

“Do you happen to have any homework?” Suki asked him.

Kyle shrugged. “Did it in study hall.”

“How come you manage to finish everything in study hall and your sister always has lots of work to do at home?”

“Maybe I’m just smarter than she is.” Kyle smiled his charming smile. Stan’s smile.

Alexa reached out an arm and swatted him. “Yeah, I noticed your name on the honor roll.”

“Don’t hit me!” Kyle yelled, punching Alexa in the shoulder. “Watch your grubby hands.”

“Jerk-off!” Alexa growled, grabbing his wrist and twisting it. “You’re just too stupid to—”

Suki yanked Kyle free from Alexa’s grip. “Stop it!” she shouted, much louder than she usually yelled. “Don’t we have enough problems in this family already? Just stop it right now!”

They stopped it.

Suki dropped into the chair next to Alexa. “Kyle,” she said. “I need to talk to your sister. Go do some homework.”

“But I told you, I don’t—”

“Then read a book.”

Kyle conspicuously removed a book from his backpack and went into the living room. Suki heard him throw himself down on the couch. She was sure he wasn’t going to turn a page.

Alexa watched her warily. “What?”

Suki explained about the Chevys, about what Kenneth was doing and what she was trying to do, about how Alexa needed to come with her to try to identify the car she had seen on River Road.

“You mean just kind of drive around and look?” Alexa asked. “Like in people’s driveways and stuff?”

“Yes,” Suki said. “I’ve got the addresses of all the Chevys in Witton.”

“Seems kind of dumb.”

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“I don’t think I’d be able to tell anyway,” Alexa said sullenly. “It was dark.”