MacCully.'
'And Ray Molar would be Jay Colter. But why?'
'Let's go see who lives at 1276 Lake View Drive,' he said.
Chapter 18
They found the address on Lake View Drive. Shane drove the black Acura slowly past the house. The small cabin-style bungalow was lit up. They could see men moving around inside.
'What do you think they're doing?' Barbara asked as Shane slowed the car but didn't stop. He pulled up the street and turned left at the first intersecting road. He drove half a block up, parked, and turned off the headlights.
'Who are they? What're you gonna do?' Barbara pestered as Shane got his zoom-lens camera out of the trunk.
'Stay here,' he ordered, and quickly moved down to Lake View, then crept along the sidewalk toward the target house. He heard something behind him and spun around. Barbara was hovering nearby.
'Go back. This could be dangerous.'
'Maybe I know one of them,' she said.
Shane realized that it was a good thought, so he nodded, then put a finger up to his mouth for silence. They crept along, slower this time, finally getting to a position of advantage behind a hedge across the street from the lake cabin. Shane put the zoom-lens camera to his eye and adjusted the focus, bringing the small house closer.
Through the front window he could see men moving around, carrying boxes and emptying drawers. He snapped a few pictures with the flash off, hoping that if he pushed it in the lab, he would get adequate resolution in spite of the low light. Through the viewfinder, he could see the men clearly. He didn't recognize any of them.
'What d'you see?' she whispered in his ear.
'They're tossing the place, looking for something, same as at your house,' he said softly, handing her the camera. 'You recognize anyone?' After a minute she shook her head and handed the camera back.
They continued to watch the house for another twenty minutes. Several times one or two of the men carried a cardboard box out and set it near the back door. Shane used up an entire roll of film, and then finally the men turned off the lights, locked up the house, and carried the boxes down to the little dock on the lake.
Shane moved out from behind the hedge, with Barbara at his heels. He ran in a crouch until he got to the side of the house, in time to see the men load the boxes into a small, old-style, wooden reproduction Chris-Craft, with varnished sides and teak decking. They all jumped aboard, and the boat's engine roared. It pulled away from the dock and sped off across the lake, leaving a white-foam wake that glistened in the mountain moonlight.
'Shit,' Shane said, 'I was hoping they had a car parked around here so we could follow them.'
He turned and moved back to the house. He tried the doors. They were all locked. Then he took out a pocketknife. He crept onto the wooden back deck that overlooked the lake, and inserted the blade into the sliding glass door. Slowly he pushed the latch up, then slid the door open. He and Barbara stepped cautiously into the small two-bedroom house.
Shane moved to the back hallway and turned on a light. It threw a low glow into the front room and would slightly illuminate most of the rooms in the small house. He didn't want to light up the whole place and call attention to their presence.
'What're we looking for?' Barbara whispered.
'Evidence that Ray lived here or used this place,' he said.
'Y'mean like this,' she said, picking up a small framed photograph off the living-room TV. It was Ray with his arm around a very pretty dark-haired woman. They were both laughing, holding up glasses of champagne. Slightly out of focus in the background was a small wooden church with a sign that read:
THE MIDNIGHT WEDDING CHAPEL LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
Barbara looked at the picture, and her expression turned dark. 'Is this what I think it is?' she asked sharply. 'Is this a fucking wedding photo?'
'I don't know.' He removed the picture from the frame and put it in his pocket.
They moved through the house. The cottage appeared to be some kind of party pad. Both bedrooms sported huge king-size waterbeds, complete with ceiling mirrors. Shane looked around, opening drawers, searching closets. All were now empty; everything had been removed. When he got to the guest bedroom, he noticed that the closet seemed very shallow, with no hanging rods. He tapped on the back wall. It sounded hollow. He searched around the edges of the closet wall until he found a small kick-plate near the floor. He touched it with his toe, and the back wall of the closet opened on a spring hinge. He pushed 'the wall' and found that he was in a small, dark area, about six by ten feet. From where he was standing, he was looking through a glass window, directly into the master bedroom.
'Barbara,' he called to her, 'go into the master bedroom and stand by the bed.'
'Okay,' she called from the kitchen, where she had been searching the cupboards. She went into the bedroom, and he could see her clearly through the window in the wall in front of him.
'Go to the mirror over the dresser,' he said. She walked to the dresser and was now standing only a few feet away, looking directly at him through a one-way mirror.
'Where are you?' she asked.
'In here, in the guest bedroom.'
She moved away from the mirror, exited the master bedroom, and in a minute was pushing the wall open and entering the small back closet he had discovered. Shane found the overhead light and flipped it on. The room was empty except for a vacant bookshelf.
'What is this?' she asked.
'Glory hole,' Shane said, using the cop term for any opening used for sexual spying. He began looking around the secret room. Finally he pulled an empty bookshelf away from the wall. He found two videotape boxes that had slipped down behind the shelf and had been missed. He picked them up they were empty. One
of the boxes was not labeled, but the other had a name written on the spine: CARL CUMMINS
'What were they doing?'
'Looks like some kind of variation on the Badger Game. They get a guy up here, have a party, videotape the funny stuff, then blackmail him.'
'Ray was doing this? Ray and that girl?'
'I don't know. I'm not sure. Early in an investigation, it's best not to jump to any conclusions,' he said. 'Are there any Baggies in the kitchen?'
'Yeah, that kitchen is completely stocked,' she said.
They moved out of the videotape room and into the kitchen. Barbara found a large Baggie, and Shane dropped the videotape box into it while she held it open. Then he pulled the photo out of his pocket and dropped it in, too. Suddenly they heard the back door open, and froze.
'In there,' he whispered, pointing to the pantry.
A breathless moment, then the light Shane had turned on in the back hallway went off. The house was thrown into darkness.
As they crouched in the darkened pantry, Shane slipped his service revolver out of his belt holster and pulled the hammer back. He held the Smith amp;c Wesson.38-caliber roundwheel out in front of him with both hands, using a two-hand Weaver grip. He could hear three, maybe four men conducting a careful search, looking for them. One of the men moved into the kitchen.
'In here, Cal,' the man called out. The kitchen lights went on, exposing Shane and Barbara cowering in the back of the pantry. Shane aimed his revolver at the overhead light and put a round in the fixture, shattering glass and throwing the kitchen back into blackness.
Then all hell broke loose.
