Bleeding Hearts Read online

  Maguire didn’t say anything.

  Jody didn’t like the way things were going. He stepped closer. “Tommy?”

  “What?”

  Jody wiped his sweaty hands on the front of his shirt. “You can’t kill him now. We need him for bait. Isn’t that what you said before?” He tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

  Tommy frowned, then nodded. “For the moment.” He took a needle out of his pocket. “But I don’t need to keep listening to his big mouth.”

  Jody watched as Tommy injected more of a knock-out drug into Maguire.

  “That should keep you quiet for a while,” he said with satisfaction. Then he turned to Jody. “I’m going to buy a paper,” he said. “You stay with funny man here, and if he tries anything, why just tap him.” It was much more than a tap that his shoe applied to Maguire’s ribs. He winked at Jody and left. A moment later they could hear the sound of a car engine.

  Jody sat on the floor again, staring at Maguire.

  The cop’s eyes were only half open, but he was still awake enough to talk. “Can ya’ tell me somethin’?” he said in a thick voice.

  “What?”

  Maguire seemed to be making a great effort to speak. “I don’t pretend to understand any of this,” he said slowly. “But what I don’t understand most is Potter.”

  Jody bit his lip, tasting blood. “How do you know about Jerry?”

  Maguire’s eyes opened just a little. “We talked to him.”

  Jody leaned forward eagerly. “You did? Is he okay?”

  “You don’t even know, do you?”

  “What?”

  Instead of answering, Maguire shook his head. “I need a drink.”

  Jody got up and went into the other room. He could see himself reflected over and over in the distorted mirrors that lined the walls; the effect made him dizzy. He poured some bottled water into a Dixie cup. There was a small flicker of fear inside, but he tried not to think about it.

  He took the cup to Maguire, holding it while the other man drank. “What about Jerry?” he asked then.

  “Tom killed him.”

  The words fell like lead balls. Jody’s fingers crushed the cup involuntarily. “What?”

  “Tom went into the house and stabbed Jerry to death. Just like you stabbed the others. Jerry’s dead.”

  “No, please.” It was an anguished groan. Jody tried to fight against the great trembling darkness threatening to swallow him. “You can’t say that.”

  Maguire’s eyes suddenly closed and his head fell forward.

  “No,” Jody said again. “You’re lying.” He grabbed Maguire by the shirt and shook him. “Tell me it was a lie.”

  But Maguire was out cold.

  Jody dropped him. He stood shakily and walked out of the building. His legs felt like they were going to fold under him. He took deep gulps of the heavy humid air.

  Maguire’s words had to be a great big lie. Tommy wouldn’t.… Jody wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. Oh God … Oh shit.…

  Jody ran across the compound through the front gate, to the phone booth just beyond. There was no sign of the car returning. Jody dug through his pockets for change, and when he found it dialed without thinking about what he would say.

  All he needed was to hear the familiar voice on the other end of the line, and he would hang up.

  “Hello?” It was a woman’s voice.

  “Who is this?” Jody asked, although he thought he should know.

  “Lainie Potter. Who’s this?”

  Jerry’s sister. She lived in Malibu and came out to see them every so often. Jody had always liked her. “Let me talk to Jerry, please.”

  There was a silence. “Haven’t you heard? Jerry is dead.”

  Jody sagged against the wall of the phone booth.

  “Who is this? Who’s calling?” Then Lainie’s voice broke. “Jody? Is this you? Oh, Jody, how could you do it? Jerry loved you and you killed him.”

  Jody’s hand lost its strength suddenly and the phone fell. He leaned forward out of the booth and threw up, heaving again and again, until there was nothing left inside him, as his body shook with violent efforts to expel the knowledge.

  After a long time, he straightened and retrieved the dangling phone. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

  Lainie’s voice sounded calmer when she spoke again. “Where are you, Jody? Tell me, please.”

  “I can’t.” He was quiet, staring back into the park and into his memory. “Remember that time we had the picnic?” he said.

  “Picnic?”

  “Yeah. On my birthday, three years ago. God, that was such a good day for me.”

  “For Jerry, too,” she said softly.

  Jody felt a sob breaking free inside his chest. He hung up the phone quickly. Tommy would be back anytime now, and he would expect to find Jody inside with Maguire.

  There wasn’t any time to cry for Jerry right now.

  Chapter 34

  “Is this Robbie Kowalski’s father?”

  “Yes. Who’s this?”

  The question was ignored. “Is it true what I heard?”

  “What?”

  “That him and Becky Malloy ran off together?”

  Spaceman was drinking a beer for breakfast. “Could be. Why should you care?”

  “I seen Becky last night. I know where it is she’s staying.”

  “Did you see Robbie?”

  “Nope. But if you figure they’re together …”

  He sighed and took another gulp of the warmish beer. “I suppose that now you want to make a deal with me.”

  “A deal?” The voice, youthfully sexless, giggled. “Oh, no, sir. I don’t want money.”

  “Then why are you telling me this? Pure altruism, I suppose?”

  “Al who?”

  He shook his head. “Never mind. Look, kiddo, I’ve already been shafted once. Why are you suddenly coming forward to help?”

  “You want the absolute truth?”

  “That would be a nice change.”

  The caller took a deep breath. “I just want to get back at that snooty Becky Malloy. She’s a rich bitch, thinks she’s a fucking queen or something. I want to see her in trouble. This should settle her case pretty good. Don’t you think?”

  Nothing like good healthy hatred as a motivation. “I think. So where did you see her?”

  “She was carrying a box of Kentucky Fried Chicken into the Sleepy Time Motel, on Ocean Boulevard. Room seventeen.”

  “You’re sure it was Becky?”

  “Hey, I know the bitch. We’ve been in school together since fucking kindergarten. It was her, all right. For sure.”

  “Well, thanks for calling.”

  “She’s gonna get it now, right?”

  “Without doubt.”

  There was a sigh of exquisite pleasure from the other end of the line.

  Spaceman hung up. He leaned against the counter and finished the beer. The few hours sleep he’d finally managed to get hadn’t done anything except make him feel worse. His eyes felt like they were full of sand, and he had a headache that ran through his entire body.

  He didn’t want to bother with this now. If Robbie and the bitch were screwing around in the Sleepy Time, it was a pretty stupid thing for them to be doing, but it wasn’t exactly going to shake the foundations of the world. He had to keep trying to find Maguire. If it wasn’t too late already.

  But if he got this settled, he could concentrate on more important things than a couple of horny kids. Also, he could forget about the dead boy in Lompoc.

  He reached for the phone again and dialed the office, asking for McGannon. “What’s the word?” Spaceman said when the other man got on the line.

  “Nothing,” he said, sounding tired. “I suppose that’s good in a way.”

  “Good?”

  “Well, we haven’t found a body yet.” The words were flat, hopeless. Cop words.

  Spaceman pitched the empty beer c
an across the room. It just missed the wastebasket, which figured. “Okay,” he said, giving briskness a try and missing with that, too. “I’ll be in as soon as I can. There’s a stop I have to make first.”

  “Oh?”

  “I got a tip on where my son might be. I need to check it out.”

  “Good luck.”

  “I’m about due.”

  He hung up and headed for the bathroom.

  The air outside was heavy and sluggish. Spaceman could see a thin line of dark clouds moving in from the west. Maybe there would be some rain, please God, and the damned grip of heat would be broken. According to the radio news, the authorities were hoping for rain, too, to help with fighting a new rash of fires.

  The Sleepy Time Motel was about what he had expected it would be. Fifteen dollars a night and no questions asked. He went into the small office. The young black man behind the desk was reading one of the underground sex papers and watching The $25,000 Pyramid. “Room seventeen,” Spaceman said.

  The clerk was barely interested. He glanced at a register open on the desk. “Mr. and Mrs. Jones,” he said. He licked a fingertip and turned the page of the paper.

  “What do they look like?”

  “Beats me.”

  “You didn’t check them in?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But even if I did, I don’t know what they look like.”

  Spaceman reached out and pushed the newspaper down so that he could see the man’s face. “You’re not a very observant type, is that it?”

  “I don’t get paid to be observant.”

  “And you earn every penny you make,” Spaceman said. He turned and walked out.

  He went to room seventeen. On another day, he would have used a little finesse on this kind of thing. But he was hot and tired and worried. And mad. He pounded the door with the heel of his hand. “Open up.”

  “Who is it?” The voice was female, tentative.

  “Police. Open the door, please.”

  There was a flurry of soft, unintelligible conversation. Then: “Go away.” It was a deeper voice, but no less tentative.

  Spaceman swore. He judged the strength of the door carefully and decided that it was nothing but flimsy plywood covered with veneer. Cheap. He took two steps back and threw himself against the door. There was a cracking sound, but the damned thing held. He leveled his shoulder against it again and this time the wood shattered.

  Spaceman stumbled into the room.

  A young blonde girl, wearing only the top half of a pair of man’s pajamas, was sitting on the bed. She was eating a Mounds bar and drinking a can of Diet-Rite. The $25,000 Pyramid seemed to be a popular show, because she was watching it too, or had been. Now she was staring at Spaceman.

  The man standing by the bed wasn’t Robbie. He was tall, built like an ex-jock, about forty years old. At the moment, he was looking sort of sick. “Oh, shit,” he said.

  “Becky Malloy?” Spaceman asked, rubbing his shoulder gingerly. He’d have a bruise there tomorrow.

  She smiled at him smugly. “Becky Rostow,” she said, waving the hand that still held a half-eaten candy bar. The third finger wore a thin gold band. “We went to Vegas and got married.”

  “Congratulations,” Spaceman said shortly. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Al Rostow,” the bridegroom said in a low voice.

  “She’s underage, you know.”

  He nodded.

  “And you did it anyway?”

  “We love each other,” the girl said fiercely. “We’ve been in love for over a year.” She was looking at Rostow; Spaceman wondered what the hell she saw. It certainly wasn’t the half-naked middle-aged man with the thinning hair and emerging gut who stood there. “He was my history teacher.”

  “A teacher,” Spaceman repeated.

  “Yes,” Rostow said. Then he smiled weakly. “Until now.”

  “You got that right, I think.” Spaceman shook his head. “You people have really fucked up.”

  They looked like they knew it.

  It took him over an hour to get the whole mess straightened out. Becky seemed to have a better grip on things than did Rostow. She only shrugged when Spaceman said he’d have to call her parents. “I knew the honeymoon would have to end sometime,” was her only reply.

  Spaceman asked her about Robbie.

  It wasn’t very nice, what she had to say. While Rostow, pants on by then, sat to one side and listened, Becky told Spaceman how she had used Robbie as a cover. Pretending to like him and going out with him only so her parents wouldn’t suspect the truth about the affair with Rostow.

  Before they went to Vegas, she told Robbie the truth. How did he react, Spaceman wanted to know. She shrugged. That was all.

  Spaceman felt hurt for his son.

  He finally called the Malloys, told them where Becky was, and left the newlyweds to await whatever befell them next. He almost felt a little sorry for Rostow; he didn’t stand a chance in hell, caught between the Malloy women.

  McGannon handed him a sheaf of messages as they passed in the hall. Spaceman sat at his desk and thumbed through them quickly. Most of it was worthless. Karen had called three times. He jotted down a reminder to himself to call her about the private dicks.

  The jerks in Lompoc sent another memo, still trying to find out if anybody had a missing person who fit the ID of the dead boy, but although the memo said “see attached photo,” there was no picture attached. Spaceman swore. He had to call them.

  Another note caught his attention. Someone by the name of Lainie Potter had called a short time earlier. The message was to call her back as soon as possible. He picked up the phone and dialed the number.

  “Hello?”

  “Miss Potter? This is Detective Kowalski. You called me?”

  “Yes, I thought you should know.”

  “About what?”

  “Jody called here early this morning.”

  “What? Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure. I spoke to him myself.”

  “What did he say?”

  Her voice held the same tone of quiet calm that Jerry Potter’s had. “He asked for my brother. I don’t think he knew that Jerry was dead. When I told him, he became very upset.” She paused. “I don’t understand. The police here told me that Jody and his brother were responsible for the recent murders.”

  “Yes. For the others. But it looks like your brother was killed by Tom Hitchcock alone. Jody seemed to have nothing to do with it.”

  She sighed deeply. “Well, that’s something.”

  “Is it?” He found himself wondering what the person who went with the pleasant voice looked like.

  “It’s a lot, in fact. The thought that Jody could have done that to Jerry broke my heart. At least my brother didn’t have to face that before he died.”

  Spaceman thought he understood. “Did Jody give you any idea where he was calling from?”

  “No. He just asked for Jerry, and I told him. He got very upset. I think he threw up. Then he came back on the line. He talked about a picnic.”

  “A picnic?”

  “Yes. Three years ago, on his birthday. Jerry, Jody, a friend of mine, and I all had a picnic.”

  “Why would he mention that?”

  “It was a very … a very nice day. He said it was the first time he’d ever been on a picnic.”

  “Where?”

  “Where was the picnic, you mean?”

  Spaceman realized that he was sitting on the edge of his chair. He forced himself to relax. “Yes.”

  She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t remember exactly. Some amusement park.”

  “Disneyland, you mean? Knott’s Berry Farm?”

  “No, not one of those. This was a small, family-run place. Out in the country somewhere.”

  “You can’t be more specific?”

  “I’m afraid not. Is it important?”

  “Probably not. But if it comes to you, call me back, would you, please?”

  “Sure, of
course.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m very sorry about your brother.”

  “So am I. Jerry was a very nice guy.”

  Spaceman hung up thoughtfully. An amusement park was not a good place to hide, at least right in the middle of the summer season. Still, it couldn’t hurt to snoop a little. And he sure as hell didn’t have anything better to hang his hopes on.

  He opened a drawer and started looking for a map.

  Chapter 35

  Blue woke again. It was even harder this time than it had been the last. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. The faces of the dragons and other creatures still looked down on him. There was no way of knowing how long he’d been here. Not that he cared much. His hands and feet were getting numb, leading to unpleasant thoughts of gangrene. He’d seen that a couple times in Nam. It wasn’t pretty.

  What the hell kind of cop could he be with no hands or feet?

  For that matter, what the hell kind of cop was he now?

  Before he was forced to pursue that line of thought, Jody came in, carrying a paper plate and cup. “I brought you some food,” he said dully. “Are you hungry?” Jody seemed to have grown years older in the time Blue had been here. His face was pale and lined, and his hands shook.

  Blue opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was so dry that all that emerged was a croak. He mustered up a little moisture and swallowed before trying again. “Yeah. But I can’t eat like this.”

  “I know.” Jody set the plate and cup down and knelt beside him. “I’ll untie your hands. You won’t try anything stupid, will you?”

  “No. Cross my heart and hope—” He broke off.

  Jody stared at him for a moment, then shook his head and went to work on the knots.

  Blue closed his eyes briefly at the cramping pains that ran through his arms as the rope was removed. He tried to shake some feeling into his hands. “Thanks,” he said. “But are you sure Tom won’t mind?”

  “He’s asleep.” Jody moved the food within Blue’s reach.

  Blue managed to get his fingers working. There was a salami sandwich and some potato chips on the plate. He took a sip from the cup and found Kool-Aid. It all tasted wonderful.

  Jody was across the room, sitting with his back against the mirror. His eyes, although they watched Blue, did so without interest.