Sarah Woods Mystery Series (1-6) Boxed Set Page 32

  Richard didn’t seem rattled by the doctor’s condescending tone. “We might have another lead. We were able to identify one of the children whose photo we found in Brenda’s apartment.”

  Dr. Theo raised an eyebrow. “And?”

  “Come to find out, she died a few months ago.”

  The doctor turned away from us and lowered his head. “So you think there’s a connection.” It sounded more like a statement than a question.

  “We’ll get a better idea after we talk to the mother. We tried calling, but she didn’t answer.

  Dr. Theo turned back around slowly. “And you think talking to her will help us find Toby?”

  Richard paused, his face turning pale. “We don’t have many options left.”

  “What about the Brenda woman? She’s still out there. Why can’t you find her?”

  Richard rotated his head. I assumed he was trying to keep his cool. “We’re still working on that.”

  Chapter 30

  “You heard the doctor,” Carter said. “We need to focus on finding Brenda. We can speculate all day long what Sal Hutchins is up to, but we have no tangible proof he’s anything more than a liar.” Max and I followed Carter and Richard outside to the Sanborn’s driveway.

  “Giving up on Hutchins is a mistake,” Max said. “What if he has something to do with the abduction?”

  “I agree with you,” Carter said, “but Doctor Sanborn was adamant. He wants us to look for Brenda. At least we know she was around Cunningham’s place at the time of his death. I suggest you and Sarah go back to the Big Kahuna Café.”

  “We weren’t successful last time,” Max reminded everyone. “I doubt the locals are going to change their minds about helping us.”

  Carter smiled. “Money is always a good motivator.”

  Max shook his head. “You haven’t seen the guy who owns the place. He’s no pushover.”

  “C’mon. How intimidating can he be? The guy works at a coffee shop.”

  “Fine. What about you and Richard? Are you going to see the Foster girl’s mother?”

  “We’re headed to her office right now. I’ll call you as soon as we talk to her.”

  * * *

  We walked into the café to find Tattoo Face serving coffee to a man with dreadlocks. The place was practically empty. When it was our turn to order, Max offered a cheery wave. “Good morning. Two cups of Kona, please.”

  Tattoo Face crossed his bulky arms over his chest and stared at us. “You guys again?”

  “That’s right,” Max said. “Nice of you to remember us.”

  Tattoo Face stood his ground.

  Max casually looked around then leaned over the counter. “We’re looking for Brenda, and we know she comes here a lot. Could you please help us out?” Max reached into his back pocket for his wallet and discreetly pulled out a fifty- dollar bill. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Tattoo Face sneered. “Why don’t you get outta here,” he said, and pointed toward the door.

  We retreated. Max smiled and said, “I have to say, I respect your loyalty. Most people would have taken the money.”

  We got back in the car. Max rubbed his eyes, leaned forward, and stared out the window, apparently focused on something across the street. “Hear me out for a second, Sarah,” he said, turning to face me. “Maybe Brenda is running because she saw Hutchins kill Cunningham, and she’s worried he’ll come back to tie up loose ends.”

  “That’s a logical theory. Maybe he never left Hawaii, and he’s searching for her, too.”

  “And maybe he also came here to the coffee shop. It would explain why Tattoo Face is so protective of Brenda.”

  Max reached back, stuck a hand inside his duffel bag, and retrieved a small device.

  “That black duffel bag is like a magician’s top hat,” I said. “I never know what you’re going to pull out of there next.”

  Max opened his door. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  He smiled, shut his door, and made his way down the street. He stopped beside a late model Honda and bent over to tie his shoe.

  “What was that all about?” I asked when he got back in the Jeep.

  “I remember seeing that car parked in the same spot when we were here yesterday,” he explained. “I noticed the license plate and was curious what that word meant, so I looked it up.”

  I glanced over at the Honda again. “Maori? What does that mean?”

  “The Maori are an ancient New Zealand tribe. They used to initiate their young men by carving intricate, sacred patterns onto their faces using sharks teeth. They weren’t allowed to show pain while receiving their first tattoos. If they did, they were looked upon with shame. It’s my understanding some were even killed.”

  “Sounds brutal,” I said, smoothing my cheek. “Great work on identifying Tattoo Face’s car. So we wait for him to leave with the hope he’ll lead us to Brenda?”

  “I have a hunch he knows where she’s staying. I think it’s worth a shot.”

  “Okay, but I’m not too keen on waiting here ‘til he leaves work.”

  “We can get some lunch in town. When he starts his car, the tracking device will send us a signal.”

  ***

  A block away, Max and I found a roadside canteen truck advertising plate lunch specials. We sat at a picnic table eating grilled spam, white rice, and pasta salad. The carb content was more than my daily allowance, but I didn’t let that stop me from devouring the whole thing.

  “Jessica Sanborn could learn a thing or two from you,” Max said, wiping his chin with a napkin. “You have a pretty healthy appetite.”

  “You won’t be so glad when you see me in my bathing suit.”

  “Ha! Let me be the judge of that.”

  A sharp beeping sound interrupted our discussion. Max looked up at me. “Our friend is on the move. Let’s go.”

  According to the tracking monitor in my lap, Tattoo Face’s Honda was cruising along a safe distance ahead of us. Five minutes into the trip, the red dot became stationary.

  “He stopped.” I scanned the neighborhood in search of the Honda. “Over there, about four houses down,” I said, pointing. Tattoo Face was headed toward the front door of a green house.

  Max pulled over and cut the engine. “I wonder if this is his place.”

  Tattoo Face opened the front door and walked in without knocking. “Apparently it is. Think he saw us?”

  Max reached into the back seat and grabbed the flashlight stun gun. “Why don’t you get behind the wheel in case we need to make a quick getaway,” he said, opening his door.

  “Hold on just a second, mister. Shouldn’t we consult Carter before you go busting down doors? We have no idea if Brenda is here or not.”

  “Who said I’m busting down doors? I’m just gonna take a peek inside. Besides, I can handle myself.”

  “Just like you handled Brenda when she kicked you in the nuts?”

  “Thanks for reminding me. I was unprepared for that one. I’m prepared now.”

  “Sorry, but this is crazy. I thought you were against taking the law into your own hands.”

  “I guess Carter is starting to rub off on me,” Max said.

  “Don’t you need some kind of backup?” I asked. “Do you have another taser?”

  “Promise me you’ll stay in the car, Sarah. If it makes you feel better, call Carter and give him the address.”

  I shot him an angry look, but he headed off toward the house without looking back. Much to my relief, the call I placed to Carter was answered on the third ring.

  “What’s up, Sarah?” he asked.

  “Max is about to confront Tattoo Face at his house. Please get here as soon as possible.”

  “Who?”

  “The guy who works at Kahuna Café. We’re at his house. Max thinks Brenda is here.” I gave Carter the address.

  “We’re on our way. Should be there in ten minutes.”

  “Please hurry.�
��

  I noticed Max had made it to the house and was knocking on the front door. He knocked again and waited a few more seconds. Still nothing. He turned away from the door and started walking around to the side of the house.

  The next thing I saw took my breath away. Tattoo Face’s silhouette flashed by one of the windows. I wasn’t sure, but he appeared to have a weapon in his hands.

  I left the safety of the Jeep behind and made my way toward the house, hell-bent on warning Max. As I got closer, I heard a faint whistle. I spotted Max crouched under a window. “Sarah,” he hissed. “What are you doing? Go back to the Jeep.”

  “He has a weapon. Let’s get out of here,” I whispered.

  He waved me away and continued around to the backside of the house as if he hadn’t heard me. I should have followed his instructions, but Max and I had something in common: we were both stubborn.

  I went after him.

  When I caught up, he was standing a few feet away from a screen door. Two young girls stood in the doorway, transfixed on us. One was young, about five years old. The other looked to be about twelve or thirteen.

  The little one let out a wild scream.

  Max grabbed my arm. We slowly backed away as Tattoo Face appeared in the doorway. He kicked the screen door open and pointed a gun at Max’s chest. “Now you come to scare my family?”

  “Look,” Max said, “I’m sorry. Let me explain.”

  Tattoo Face pulled the slide mechanism back and chambered a bullet.

  “Please,” I said in the most respectful tone I could muster. “Could you put the gun away so we can talk?”

  He took a step toward me and pointed the gun at my forehead. I almost pissed myself. I shut my eyes and clenched my teeth, expecting the worst.

  I heard Max’s voice directly in front of me. “You just crossed the line.”

  “Dat what you think? You trespassing on my property.”

  Max hesitated. My impulsive side took over. I opened my eyes and reached forward for the flashlight in Max’s back pocket. I only had one chance to get it right and prayed Max wouldn’t react to my taking it from him. I grasped the handle, and with fluid motion, stepped to the side, aimed the taser at Tattoo Face’s chest, and depressed the silver latch.

  The next few seconds seemed to pass in slow motion as the probes shot out and stuck to his chest, delivering a debilitating 200,000-volt blast of electricity.

  He shook profusely, dropped to his knees, and involuntarily released his weapon. Max kicked it into the bushes.

  I became lightheaded as I witnessed the result of my action. I let go of the taser and heard it hit the ground.

  An arm wrapped around my torso from behind, locking my arms at my sides. I gasped as I felt the prickly sensation of a sharp object pressing against the soft flesh of my neck.

  “I’ll cut her throat if you try anything stupid.” The woman’s voice sounded desperate and resolute.

  Max slowly raised his hands in the air as if he were being robbed. “Easy, Brenda. Please don’t do this.”

  My heart rate matched her rapid breathing. Max looked directly into my eyes, his presence allowing me to keep my cool.

  “You guys broke into my apartment,” she screamed, causing a painful ringing in my ears. A spray of spittle covered my neck, the stench of her stale breath causing bile to rise in my throat. “You were there to kill me.”

  “No,” Max said. “We were---”

  “Shut up,” Brenda shrieked as she squeezed me tighter.

  Tattoo Face got to his feet. He looked at Brenda as he tore the prongs from his chest. “What you want to do with these scumbags?”

  “Lock ‘em in the basement.”

  Brenda released my torso, grabbed the back of my neck, and tried to shove me forward. I resisted. “I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

  Max shot me a look. “Do what she says, Sarah.”

  I twisted my head around and felt a moist trickle run down my neck. “Brenda, I know you don’t trust us, but hear me out. We were at your apartment yesterday because we’re searching for a missing boy.”

  “What missing boy?”

  “His name is Toby Cunningham. He’s only a year old.”

  “Why would you think I have something to do with that?”

  “Duane Cunningham, the man you know as Eric Fisher, is a suspect in the kidnapping of his son,” I said. “We know you were at his house the morning he was found dead in his pool.”

  The pressure on my neck lessened. “I had nothing to do with that,” she said.

  “I knew Eric had a son, but he never told me the boy’s name.” She came around to my right side.

  I placed a hand over the small cut on my neck. “Did Eric mention where his son is now?”

  Brenda looked over at Max then back at me. “He told me his son died eight months ago.”

  “What?”

  Brenda’s expression changed when she saw the incredulous look on my face. She turned to Max and said, “What the fuck is going on here?”

  “Did he tell you how his son died?” Max asked.

  Tattoo Face spoke up. “Don’t tell these people anything. They don’t give a shit ‘bout wahappen to you.”

  Brenda looked down at the knife in her hand then tossed it aside. Apparently the gravity of what had just taken place now fell heavily upon her shoulders.

  Tattoo Face, clearly agitated, stormed into the house and slammed the screen door behind him.

  “Look,” Brenda said, backing up a few steps. “I don’t know anything. I only met him a few weeks ago when he joined the group.”

  “What group?”

  She looked down. “The support group at my church for people who’ve lost a child.”

  “Are you saying you’ve lost a child?”

  She looked away and nodded.

  “I’m so sorry.” My heart ached, but I had to keep Brenda talking. “Did Eric share his own experiences with the group?”

  “No. He said it was too painful. He just wanted to listen.”

  I took a deep breath. “What happened the morning Eric died?”

  Brenda’s nostrils flared as a deep frown formed on her face. “I was sleeping. Voices woke me up. Eric wasn’t in bed, so I got up to look for him. He wasn’t anywhere inside the house. I looked out the window toward the pool and saw him floating. I called out to him, but he didn’t answer. I went outside, walked over to the pool, and called his name again.” Brenda covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head. “A hand covered my mouth from behind. The man told me not to scream then warned me to leave right away, and to disappear for a few weeks. He said if I didn’t, I’d be dead, too.”

  “What did his voice sound like?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I was freaked out. I don’t really remember.” Tears ran down her face.

  “Did you ever see Eric’s neighbor? He’s in his sixties, about five foot six.”

  She slapped her tears away and shook her head.

  “Did Eric ever mention the mother of his child, Jessica Sanborn?”

  “No. I told you; he didn’t talk about his past. Not even after two weeks of spending time together.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, raising my hands apologetically. “I just have one more question. Why did you go back to your apartment yesterday?”

  “I needed my pills. I take them for depression. I have a prescription now. I don’t sell that shit anymore. I was only planning to be there for a few minutes when I heard you two breaking in. I thought you guys came to kill me.”

  “What about the photographs?”

  Brenda blinked at us as if she had no idea what we were referring to.

  “The photographs of the children,” I said. “We found them in an envelope in your apartment.”

  “Those are pictures of the kids who died. The parents in the support group decided I would be the best person to put together a memorial.”

  I glanced over at Max. He seemed content to let me do all the talking.

&
nbsp; “So Carla Foster must be in the group,” I said. “She’s the mother of the girl who drowned, right?”

  “Yeah, she’s in our group. Why?”

  A cell phone rang and Max turned away to take the call.

  I took a step toward Brenda. “Would you be willing to go to the police and give them a statement about the voice you heard the morning Eric died?”

  “I can’t,” she said, taking a few steps back. “I’ll go to jail if they think I’m involved. I’ve already been arrested a few times.”

  “They won’t arrest you, Brenda. You’ll be helping them this time. We already have an idea who’s behind all of this.”

  “Look,” Brenda glanced around nervously. “I don’t know anything else. I just want to go home.”

  Max ended his call and returned. Our eyes met.

  “Was that Carter?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I told him everything Brenda just said. He and Richard are waiting for us out front.”

  “Who’s waiting out front? The cops?” Brenda asked

  “No, it’s the men we work for. They’re good guys,” Max said. “They’re going to drive you to the police station.”

  “Screw that,” she said, bending over to pick up the knife. “I’m not going with anyone. Stay away from me. I mean it.”

  She darted across the backyard and around the corner of an adjacent house.

  Max and I did nothing to stop her.

  Chapter 32

  We found Carter and Richard leaning against the rear hatch of their rental vehicle. Carter’s brow furrowed when he saw us. “Well, where the hell is she?” he asked.

  “She doesn’t trust anyone. She took off again,” I said.

  Richard rubbed his eyes. I suspect he wasn’t looking forward to going back to the Sanborn’s with a dearth of positive information.

  “Just because Cunningham told Brenda his son was dead doesn’t mean it’s true.” As I spoke the words, I realized I was trying to convince myself as much as anyone else.