Bob Moats - Jim Richards 01-03- 3 for Murder Box Set (14 page)

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Authors: Bob Moats

Tags: #Mystery: Thriller - Senior Sleuth

BOOK: Bob Moats - Jim Richards 01-03- 3 for Murder Box Set
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If she was trying to make me feel better, it wasn’t working.

 

Deacon came into the house just then and said they got the call on the car radio. He said that he had volunteered to stay on. The others were leaving.

 

We went out to thank them and say good-bye. We stood in the front yard. I looked at Buck, wondering what now.

 

Buck spoke first. “Can’t let this get us down. We can do it, just have to be a bit more watchful, but we can do it.”

 

“I have every confidence in the three of you to save my skin.” Penny smiled. She was still such a little cheerleader, even now.

 

She continued, “Let’s just get through this night. I’m going to call the studio and tell them I’m coming back to work tomorrow. I need the change. Besides, there are more people there who can be on watch. I’ll just have to level with them.”

 

I had to agree with that. We would stick close, and with everybody watching, she would probably be safe.

 

“OK, it’s a plan, but we’ll have to figure something different for tomorrow night. Different place, maybe,” I said. “Deacon, is that OK with you?”

 

“I always wanted to watch a TV show being made. I like it.” He grinned.

 

Buck went to his van and took a small case out of the back. He handed it to me, and I opened it to find an army .45, in excellent shape. I closed the box and said I would take good care of it.

 

We went in, and after going around turning on all the lights in the house and out of the house, we all sat in the family room talking. I suggested to Penny that she and I should be in the guest room tonight to throw off any attempts by the killer. Buck said he’d take the master bedroom but wouldn’t sleep, just sit by the door with his .38. I told him to set his chair up against the door so he could sleep, but if someone attempted to come in, he’d know. He liked that idea.

 

I said we could just all sit in the family room all night partying, but we’d be miserable in the morning. Everyone agreed on the group party. Penny leaned over to me, whispering that we’d have to pass on sex tonight if we did that. I looked at her and said I thought we could manage for one night. We’d just have to make up for it later.

 

For the next six hours, Buck and Deacon took turns looking out windows. Everyone was on edge and ready for a sneak attack. Buck had his gun tucked in his belt. I had the .45 tucked behind me in my belt. I made Penny lie down on the couch to sleep. She had to look good for the camera tomorrow. She argued but gave in. She was tired. I prowled from front room to kitchen and back. Buck said we should maybe sleep in shifts and told me to go first. I was really wasted by then. It was 3 A.M. so I stretched out on the recliner. I told Buck to wake me in an hour. He didn’t.

 

I woke at 7:30 and scolded Buck for not waking me earlier. He just grinned. Penny was already up and in the bathroom getting ready. We all piled into Buck’s van. It was the only vehicle that would support both Buck and Deacon. We headed down the I-94 freeway to I-696, then down the Southfield Freeway to the TV studio.

 

Penny guided us through the gate guard, who was glad to see her back. We went in the studio entrance, Penny using her passcard. Penny was greeted by her gaggle of helpers, assistants and make-up people. She asked the floor manager to call everyone to sit in the audience seats, she had to say something. The floor manager looked from me up to Buck then up to Deacon and back down to Deacon’s big gun. He went off calling people. After a couple of minutes, everyone was seated, and Penny came up front.

 

“Thank you all for your patience. I have to ask everyone to be on their toes today. My life has been threatened, and the killer was here the other day during my last show. These two men and the officer are my body guards.” She smiled at me. “But it would really help if you could be on the lookout for suspicious activity or people doing what they shouldn’t be doing. Besides, if you keep me alive then Phil won’t be doing my show anymore.” The crew all cheered at that, and Phil gave everyone the finger, but smiled.

 

I interrupted. “Please be on the lookout for any audience member moving away from the group or someone you don’t know wandering the building. If you do see someone, call security and keep the person in sight, but do not attempt to stop them. This person has already murdered four women.”

 

The group murmured, and then Penny spoke. “OK, everyone, we have a show to get on tape. Stay alert, but go about your business.” She headed back to her dressing room as we stuck close. She was so commanding, I felt turned on. I whispered it to her. She said she’d deal with me later.

 

She went to the dressing table and sat quietly while her hair and make-up people did their magic. The hair stylist was making eyes at Deacon. He turned red. Everyone was deathly quiet otherwise. The floor manager stopped in, giving Penny her guest sheet and question cards. Penny looked at the sheet and smiled.

 

She looked at me.  “Today we have the director of the ‘Detroit Light House,’ a shelter for battered women. Isn’t that ironic? I will ask him if he knows of Julia Waters.”

 

I took the sheet and read the bio on the guy. He had worked mostly around Michigan at various shelters, but it didn’t say anything about his connections. He was a person of interest, as the police would say.

 

“He may be of interest to talk to after the show. Maybe fill us in on Julia,” I said.

 

The call came in for ten minutes until taping. Penny headed out with her groupies following. We followed the groupies.

 

She went to the stage and greeted Benjamin Brooks, the director of Light House. She told him to sit in the guest chair and explained how things worked. He just sat there nodding his head, and then the lights went on to warm up to full power. The audience was already in their seats. I scanned the group looking for anyone suspicious. Buck went around the other side of the stage and planted himself on a stool. Deacon went behind the set and watched from the stage crew’s monitor of the set. The crew greeted him and explained what went on back stage. I made a walk around the set, checking all the nooks and crannies to see if there was a way anyone could attack Penny without being seen. The show was starting.

 

The floor manager became the floor director and called for all cameras to take their marks. He went to the audience and prompted them as to how to watch the applause signs and respond. He ran them through a couple of tests and was satisfied.

 

He called up to the control booth and turned it over to them. The sound engineer tested and adjusted all the mics. He was satisfied. The opening music came up, and the opening credits rolled on the monitor. A short montage of shots, of Penny around the Detroit area ran, and then it went live to her.

 

“Good afternoon, Metro Detroit. I’m Penny Wickens. Welcome to “Penny for Your Thoughts,” Penny shouted.

 

The applause sign lit, and the audience responded.

 

“Today we have as our guest Benjamin Brooks, director of the Detroit Light House, a non-profit shelter for abused women.” Applause again.

 

“Welcome, Mr. Brooks.” She smiled.

 

“Please call me Ben. My father was Mr. Brooks.” He smiled back.

 

“Well, call me Penny. Ben, please tell us the purpose of the Light House.”

 

For the next half hour Ben went on about his aspirations for Light House, sounding a bit pompous. He definitely was in it for the glory. Penny finally broke the ice.

 

“Ben, do you know of Julia Waters and her work in Chicago with battered and abused women?”

 

He seemed to be thrown by the question for a brief moment. He recovered then flashed his expensive teeth and replied, “Why, yes, I know of her work. She is an inspiration to all shelters around the country. She has helped establish important legislation in regard to spousal abuse.” He paused.

 

Before he could say anything more, I heard a small screeching noise and looked up to where it came from. I looked over to Buck. He heard it, too, and was also looking up. Suddenly I saw Buck leap off the stool and crash into Penny, Ben and their chairs, knocking them off to the side. Barely seconds after, a light bar came crashing down in the same spot where Penny and the guest had sat. I jumped forward to the stage. Deacon came tearing through the curtain from behind the set, and we stood looking up.

 

I couldn’t see anything in the dark. I yelled to get lights turned up overhead. The stage crew was scrambling around, and someone flipped on the work lights. The stage lit overhead, but we couldn’t see anything on the catwalk. Then I saw a flash of movement off to the side of the rigging. Buck was up, helping Penny and Ben off the floor. I called to Buck, pointed to the direction of the movement and headed that way.

 

I yelled to Deacon to watch Penny. He moved over to her. Buck and I went around back and heard a door slamming. We went that way. We were chasing a ghost, ever ahead of us, but we followed. Down halls and through other sets in the station. I didn’t realize how many rooms and places there were in the small looking building. We came to the last door we heard close, crashed through it with guns drawn. We came face to face with the gate guard, on break, smoking a cigarette, looking shocked.

 

“Wow, this no smoking thing is getting serious,” he said, shaking.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

 

Penny and her guest were resting in her dressing room. The audience was told it was just an accident and asked them to be patient while they fixed the problem. I called Trapper and relayed the incident to him. He said he couldn’t do much since we were in Southfield, but to have the local police call him for any questions about the connection with his cases. I told him we weren’t planning on bringing in the local police. We already knew it wasn’t going to help. He had to agree and said to keep him informed. I asked how Linda was holding up. He said they moved her to a safe house despite her protests.

 

Penny and her guest were relaxed now and ready to finish the show. The show must go on, was the old adage. They went out to the applause of the audience, no sign necessary this time. The show was finally finished, and the audience left feeling excited by what had happened. We asked Ben to join us in the dressing room for a talk. Outside the dressing room, I stopped Buck.

 

“OK, something is bothering me. How did the killer know we would be back here, and how did he have time to get the ‘accident’ set up?”

 

“Beats me. He must be psychic,” Buck said, rubbing his bald head.

 

“I need to check and see if Penny’s phone was somehow being tapped. It’s the only way he could have known. She called here yesterday about coming back. That would give the killer plenty of time to figure out his moves.”

 

“Makes sense to me,” Buck agreed.

 

We went into the dressing room. I sat next to Brooks. I reached into my pocket and turned on my Palm Treo then pushed the side button which started the record function. I began the conversation.

 

“Ben, first I want to tell you that was no accident out there.”

 

His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

 

“There is someone killing former female classmates from my old high school. Penny is one and has had two attempts on her life, counting today. There have been four women already killed by this person, and we believe it may be connected to Julia Waters.”

 

Now his eyes went wide.  “I have nothing to do with Miss Waters. I have no connection to her.”

 

“I’m not accusing you of anything. We just want to know if you can tell us anything about her,” I assured him.

 

“Julia Waters is a woman of high stature in our community. She has crusaded to fight abuse of women and men. I cannot believe she would be involved in something as low as murder,” he defended with an air of arrogance. “Besides, I don’t know much about her. I know she came to Michigan often, as her late father lived here, and has been in the Detroit area numerous times staying at her summer home in Lake Orion.”

 

That caught my attention. I looked at Buck since I knew Buck lived in that area for a few years and had friends there. Buck asked if Brooks knew where in town she lived. He said he didn’t. Buck said he’d make a few calls and see what he could find. He went out to make a call.

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