“Jed!” his mother said.
“Sorry, Mama.”
“Did Stone tell you where she was going after she left?” I asked.
Jed hit the couch again. “You don’t listen, do you?”
“Did she?”
“She said she had some more digging to do. Now can we stop talking about this?”
I had a habit of pushing people to the breaking point when I was working a case. I’d reached that point with Jed, and I saw no reason to ask him any more questions.
“Sure,” I said.
“You’ve upset my son,” LeAnn said. “I think it would be best if you left.”
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll see myself out.”
Buster followed me into the kitchen, where I placed my empty glass in the sink. The faint sound of music floated through the air, Sheryl Crow’s “All I Wanna Do (Is Have Some Fun).” The music was tinny, and I realized it was the ring tone to a cell phone.
The window above the sink was cracked a few inches. I stuck my ear to the opening, and heard the music coming from outside the house.
I hurried down the hallway toward the back door that Jed had used earlier to take me to the garage. As I passed the doorway to the living room, Jed looked up from the couch.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I heard something in your backyard,” I said.
“What?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
Jed came into the hallway with Heather right behind him. His body language wasn’t friendly, and he put himself between me and the door. I nudged my dog, and Buster curled back his upper lip and emitted a menacing growl.
“Hey. Get him away from me,” Jed said.
“Back off,” I said.
“This is my house. You can’t order me around like that.”
“It’s your mother’s house. Now move.”
Jed got out of my way. I threw back the deadbolt on the back door, and went outside. The ringing grew louder. The garbage pail by the back door seemed the likely culprit, and I pulled off the lid. Lying on a bag of garbage was a bright red cell phone. Caller ID said OFFICE. I flipped the phone open.
“Hello?” I said.
“Who is this?” a man’s voice said.
“This is Jack Carpenter,” I said.
“Jack, this is Charles Crippen. Did you find Piper?”
“Not yet. Is this her cell phone you called?”
“Yes. I was hoping she’d pick up.”
“I’ll call you right back.”
I folded Piper Stone’s cell phone. Jed and Heather had come outside, and were standing on the stoop behind me. When I showed Stone’s phone to Jed, his face did not register any emotion.
“Recognize this?” I asked.
Jed shook his head.
“It’s Piper Stone’s cell phone,” I said.
Jed’s mouth dropped open. If he was acting, he was doing a hell of a job. Lying on the bag of garbage inside the pail was a piece of clothing. It was frilly and feminine, and I held it up by a single finger. It was a pair of women’s black lace underwear.
“How about these?” I asked.
Jed said “Shit” under his breath. Heather clasped her hands over her mouth, and stared at her ex- husband.
“Oh, my God, Jed. Oh, my God,” she said.
Jed looked at the underwear, then at me. His breathing had gone shallow, and for the first time, I saw how strongly he resembled his father.
“I don’t know how those got there, either,” he said.
“You need to tell that to the police,” I said.
“I’m not talking to the police.”
I started to tell him that was a bad idea, but before I could, Jed jumped off the stoop and ran around the side of the house.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
C oming around the front of the house, I yelled for Jed to stop. He was halfway across the front lawn, and he glanced at me over his shoulder, his face wild with fear.
“Fucking cop!” he screamed.
LeAnn Grimes stood just around the corner, holding a broom. Moments later, my legs were tripped out from beneath me, and I was lying on my back in the grass, staring at a formation of clouds. Buster began barking, and I heard fabric being torn.
“Get away from me!” LeAnn screamed.
I lifted my head. Buster had grabbed the hem of her dress and was shredding it.
“Make him stop!” LeAnn yelled to me.
I pulled myself to my feet, my head spinning. Jed sat in a beat-up Firebird parked at the curb in front of my Legend. He was desperately trying to get the car started, only the engine refused to turn over. Each time he twisted the key, he jerked his head in my direction and shot me a crazed look.
I walked toward the Firebird with my palms out in a neutral pose. Jed didn’t appear to be armed, nor did I see any guns lying on the passenger seat. The tourists had returned, watching now with mouths agape.
When I was a few yards from the car, Jed got the engine started, and backed up into my Legend. I winced at the sounds of crunching steel and shattering headlights. Throwing the Firebird into drive, Jed plowed into the tourist’s rental van, parked in front of him. The rental bucked into the air, but didn’t move. Jed did another backward thrust and again smashed my car. It was enough to make me cry.
The Firebird’s right front tire let out a mournful hiss and the car sank into the ground. Now we were both without wheels.
Reaching the curb, I grabbed the Firebird’s passenger door with my free hand. If I could get Jed out of the car without hurting him, so much the better. Something heavy fell on my back, and I realized there was a person on top of me.
“Run, Jed, run!” Heather yelled.
Heather was holding on to me with all her might. My legs buckled and my body started to spin from her weight.
“Get off me,” I said angrily.
“Leave my husband alone,” Heather said.
“I said off!”
“Run, Jed!”
Reaching behind me, I grabbed one of Heather’s ankles, and gave it a healthy pull. She came off my back and fell on her rump on the lawn.
I chased Jed down the street. I wasn’t going to catch him-he was half my age, and probably twice as fast-but I wanted to see where he was going.
Two blocks later, I got my answer. Jed turned off the street and darted between two houses. I was ten seconds behind him, and as I ran between the houses, I saw that both had “For Sale” signs on the front lawn. No
