the left side of my face. He stopped in mid-step.
“Do I… don’t I know…” And then, as the realization sunk in, he muttered, “Holy shit,” and his body seemed to collapse in on itself.
I extended my hand. “I think we’ve met, but we didn’t have time for proper introductions the other night at McDonald’s.”
He shook my hand limply. “Oh shit,” he said again. “I’m really sorry. I had no idea…”
“I know. And you were just looking out for Angie, and that makes you okay in my book, so why don’t you come in.”
I led him down the hall, and when Angie saw him she put down her cake and walked briskly across the room, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss. And not on the cheek, either. He glanced back nervously at me and, pointing my way, whispered something to Angie. She looked at me, opened her mouth as if in shock, then slowly a smile developed as she put it together. She shook her head at me, as if to say “What next?” and then turned back to Cameron to gave him another kiss.
Trevor was at the far end of the living room, watching Angie and Cameron locked in their embrace, and even through his sunglasses, you could almost see the hurt in his eyes.
He stood and watched them for a moment, then turned and walked out of the room. I went after him, figuring a couple of words were in order, but he’d slipped through the kitchen and, apparently, out of the house.
An hour or so later, after everyone had cleared out, and Sarah and Paul were out front making some farewell chitchat with our friends, the phone rang. I grabbed it in the kitchen and looked at the sliver of cake still sitting on the table. I was stuffed, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t have more.
“Hello?” I said.
“Hey.” Even though the voice was tired and a bit weak, I recognized it immediately.
“Lawrence!” I said. “Is it ever nice to hear your voice. How are you?”
“Well enough to make a phone call, anyway. Cops were by, filled me in a bit on all your news.”
“I tried to call yesterday, but the nurse said you were still pretty out of it.”
“Painkillers, man. Gotta love ’em.”
I told him my own version of the events of the last few days, filling in a few gaps that had been overlooked by the cops.
Angie appeared in the kitchen doorway for a moment, and she’d been cornered by Trevor. Cameron, I gathered, had already left, along with most of our guests. I was trying to hear what they were saying at the same time as I was listening to Lawrence. Trevor was, I think, asking her again for a moment alone to speak to her.
“Fine, okay,” Angie said.
“Hang on,” I said to Lawrence, and then to Trevor, “You off, man?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks.”
“We’re just gonna walk down the street a bit,” Angie told me. “I’ll be back soon to help you and Mom clean up. And,” she said, looking scornful, “to discuss what happened the other night at McDonald’s.”
“Sure, hon,” I said.
Back to Lawrence. He said, “I guess this is the last time you take advice from me on where to get a good deal on a car. Next time, try a dealer.”
“Barbie Bullock said the same thing. Might be the only advice he ever gave that was worth paying attention to.”
“Yeah, well, shit, sorry. I feel terrible about all this, like it was my fault.”
“It’s okay. I’ve still got the car. Got the door panels back, just need a little body work on the back to patch some bullet holes.” I paused. “There any satisfaction in knowing that the guy who did this to you is no longer with us?”
“I’ll tell you this much,” Lawrence said. “If Bullock had lived, I don’t know that they’d ever have convicted him for what he did to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’d have made a pretty bad witness. I never really got a look at him. He got me as I was coming down the hall, going into my study, the lights were off, all of a sudden there’s this searing pain in my gut as he drives in the knife, and then he’s gone. I managed to drag myself into the bedroom, and the next thing I know I’m waking up in a hospital.”
“Yeah, well, maybe things have a way of working out, you know.”
“I wanted to call you to say thanks, for being there, calling 911 and getting me to a hospital, but also, I never had a chance to get back to you about that Trevor Wylie kid.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, only now remembering that Lawrence had promised to give me some information about the teenager when we met that night on our Brentwood’s stakeout. Only problem was, Lawrence and I never had that meeting.
“It hardly matters now,” I said.
“Why?”
“Well, he’s a bit strange, no question, but I might not be talking to you now if it weren’t for him being in the right place at the right time. He’s kind of latching himself onto Angie, and she’s going to have to hurt his feelings, I suspect, but I imagine she’ll be as nice about it as she can.”
“Well,” Lawrence said, “you know, just ’cause a kid does something right doesn’t mean he’s still not screwed up. Stalking someone, that’s not normal behavior.”
Lawrence couldn’t see my shrug at the other end of the phone. I mean, he was right, but it all seemed a bit moot now.
“The thing is,” Lawrence said, “I’d done some checking on him that day, after our run-in with him at your place, when we found him back of the garage, and I got in touch with a few people I know who’ll tell me things that they’re not supposed to, mental health types, and they faxed me some stuff, told me some other things, and I’d made some notes.”
“Yeah?” I said, slightly curious, my eyes still drifting back to the cake.
“This Wylie kid’s got a long psychiatric history. Violent outbursts, obsessive-compulsive behavior. Slightly delusional behavior. And there’s something about a sister.”
“Yeah?”
“The reason he’s here, living without his parents, is, he attacked this sister, maybe even tried to kill her. No charges were ever laid, the family had enough money to make sure that didn’t happen, they kept the authorities out of it, but they ended up kicking the kid out, he was scaring the shit out of them.”
I felt very cold. “You’re not making this up, are you, Lawrence?”
“There’s more, Zack. I was checking out his car, that Chevy of his. This was shortly after I left your place. It was unlocked, and down there between the seats, I find all these snapshots of Angie. He’d been taking pictures of her, making a collection. And I grabbed those, nearly lost my hand to the fucking dog when I did it, too. He was dozing in the backseat, woke up quick.”
“Jesus,” I said. That cold feeling had turned into a shiver. And I thought back to a few nights earlier, when I’d been riding behind Trevor’s Chevy, on the way out to Oakwood, and he’d become distracted by something between the seats. That must have been when he’d discovered the pictures were missing.
“But here’s the really creepy thing. I put those photos in a folder, with the other stuff I’d found, in my study, and I sent Kent-you met Kent, right?”
“Sure. That night, at the hospital. Nice guy.”
“Yeah, he’s really been there for me these last few days. Him, and my sister Letitia, who’s heading back to Denver tomorrow. Anyway, I sent Kent back to my place to get this stuff, so I could give you more details over the phone, but he couldn’t find the folder anyplace.”
“Go on,” I said slowly.
“The place had been totally torn apart, and the folder was gone, and the pics along with it.”
“But that was Bullock and his crew,” I said. “I saw your office that night. It was a complete mess. They were tearing apart your place, trying to find anything that would tell them what happened to the Virtue. They found the check I wrote you, for the same amount you’d paid the people at the auction, and that’s what led them to me.”
