FOLLOW THE LEADER - Chapter 52

 Chapter 52

Since Terry was a night owl, I had assigned the night watch to him. He was parked just up the street in my old Honda, probably listening to music through his earphones. Which I had discouraged.

Midmorning found me hopping onto a northbound BART, which was nearly empty. The commuters were headed the opposite way, toward the city. Which got me thinking. Any one of them could have walked by young Rip Van Winkle and called it in on his way to work. 

I left the Glen Park station and dropped into nearby Belo Coffee & Tea and bought a black coffee to go.

Terry was sound asleep when I rapped on the window. No earphones in sight. Good.

“Wake up, Mr. Winkle.”

No response.

I walked around, unlocked the passenger door and slid in and shook him.

“Huh?”

“Time to wake up, partner.”

I stuck the coffee just below his nose. His nostrils flared. Progress.

He opened his eyes.

“Just taking a break,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, right.”

I could sympathize. He had been up all night. Or so I hoped.

“Just resting my eyes,” he said.

I laughed.

“What?”

“That’s what my grandpa used to say. Here.” I handed him the coffee.  “See anything out of the ordinary last night?”

“I would have called you if I did.”

“Okay, dumb question. Give me the basics. Was she at home?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you actually see her?”

He nodded.

“Coming and going into and out of the living room. The TV was on most of the night. She called it quits around eleven and went upstairs. That corner room.”

Just then an older Chevy turned into the long driveway and stopped. A middle-aged black woman got out of the car. She wore surgical scrubs and carried a black leather bag. As she started for the front door we heard loud yapping from inside. 

Small dog, I thought. Very small.

“Did her dog bark like that last night?”

“Naw. I didn’t know she had a dog.”

The front door opened and Dorothy Latham appeared in her bathrobe. 

The dog kept yapping. It was a sorry-looking Chihuahua.
“Hush, Reggie! You know Shirley.”

“Good morning, Dorothy.”

“Perfect timing. I just finished running my bath.”

“You are on the ball, girl!”

Shirley went inside and Mrs. Latham closed the door behind her.

“Shirley might be there an hour,” I said. “We know she’s going to help her bathe. Maybe she’ll also take her vitals, which will add a few minutes. Maybe help her dress, as well. That could take another twenty. After Shirley leaves, I’ll come knock at her front door.”

“And say what?” he asked in the middle of a yawn.

“Didn’t you know? Jason and I went to school together. Mission High.”

“How do you know he went there?”

“Saw it on a file downtown.”

He gave me a puzzled look.

“Whose file?” he asked.

“F.B.I.’s.”

“Whoa. We’re working with them?”

“Sort of. We’re helping each other out.”

“How did you—?”

“No more questions. Go home and get some sleep.”

“Right.”

He opened the door tiredly, then stopped.

“How did I do?” he asked.

“Awesome.”

I saw his chest swell as he shut the door—too hard.

“Hey! Easy!”

“Sorry, dude.”
Terry started his shambling gait toward BART. He would have to walk from the 24^th and Mission Station into Noe Valley, which would be a drag. 

I pulled out of my parking spot slowly, hoping one of the neighbors had not seen Terry and me together. It would be hard to explain.

I reviewed my first impression of Dorothy Latham. Her face brightened as she saw Shirley.  Dorothy was not confused. Neither was she surprised. This was part of a routine she clearly enjoyed. 

I needed to re-park my car in a way that would not draw suspicion. But first I would hang out in a coffee shop and get my story straight, then drop by a pet store.

Maybe Dorothy had heard from her darling nephew, Jason.

Or maybe not. She might not recognize him at all.