Savage Noir

  Chapter 59 Sheriff Calder said, “Come on, ‘Country.’ At least tell me your real name.” “Rhonda.” “Now that is a pretty name. Why would you want a dumb nickname like Country ?” “It’s not dumb. He put a lot of thought into it.” “If you say so.” She saw headlights blinking in the rear mirror and immediately freaked. “We’re being followed,” she said. She saw the car’s image in her outside rear mirror. “It’s not a cop car.” “How do you know? Cops and feds often drive unmarked cars,” he said. “Pigs!” He chuckled softly. He had not heard that one since the late Sixties. He glanced at his mirror. “Feds, I think.” he said. “What do they want with me?” she asked. “Same as me. The truth.” She said nothing to that. “Tell you what, Rhonda slash Country. I’m gonna tell you about this girl I met. She was waiting for me beneath some trees, just between two cornfields. I had all kinds of questions to ask her, but I never got the chance.” “Why not?”...

Chapter 58 The lights were dim inside the farmhouse. Then the front porch light clicked on. Sheriff Calder opened a screen door and stepped onto the porch, his eyes adjusting to the yellow “insect” bulb.  He kept one hand on his holster. Calder stood for a while, listening and watching.  He turned and looked behind him. All he saw were row after row of threes. He heard cars and trucks on 101, but nothing else save a few night birds. He stepped back and rapped softly on the front door.  The door opened and Rhonda slipped out, looking to her right and left. Someone closed the door behind her. She carried something small, wrapped in a bath towel. “Stay between me and the house,” whispered Calder. He quickly led her to his nearby patrol car. “It’s open.” Rhonda opened the door and slid inside, shutting it softly. Calder took the bundle and set it in the back seat. “Let’s hope we got some partials,” he told her.Three people had handled the Smith and Wesson gun...

Chapter 55 No alarm! Terry slowly exhaled. He realized he had been holding his breath.  Once inside the bedroom, the musty odor of mold assaulted his nostrils. Neither Francis nor he had prepared for this. He reached down for his handkerchief but it was not there.  He quickly put on his sheer plastic gloves, then rushed to the window. It was scarcely cracked open, covered from top to bottom with a thick coat of dust. And it was stuck. He pounded on it with the heel of his hand. Two quick hits.  Nothing. Three more hits. Still nothing.  Twice more. This time he heard a soft crack. It had come unstuck. The window squeaked and stopped and squeaked and stopped as he jerked the sash up as far as it would go.  He stuck out his head to inhale fresh air. His inner clock kept clicking: Five minutes to open the damn window. He could have picked three locks in that amount of time. Terry allowed himself a quick purview of the room before he started his search...

  Chapter 54 Terry took out his set of picks and worked on the spring bolt lock on the back door. Francis had told him to get in and get out as fast as he could, but rushing was anathema to “second story men.” A minute later he opened the door and stepped into a utility room. Reggie began to bark at him from somewhere upstairs.  Immediately Terry fished out a bit of dog biscuit and knelt. Reggie skidded around the corner, his tiny paws sliding on the linoleum floor. “Hey, Reggie,” he said, his voice soft. He held out the treat, but Reggie kept barking. He tossed the tidbit gently, underhanded. He knew the dog had smelled it immediately and recognized the scent. Another nice man with the same treat! But he had to keep barking.  “It’s okay, boy,” Terry whispered. A soft growl, then one last yip as Reggie snatched the treat and gobbled it up. “I’m going upstairs now,” said Terry. Still in his quiet voice, but moving very slowly. He dropped another ti...

  Chapter 53 Mrs. Latham’s caregiver drove off one hour later. I waited until she turned off Chenery and disappeared.  I crossed the street, amped up with coffee and my own adrenalin. Chill, I told myself. Her yapping dog announced my presence. I rang the doorbell. And waited. More barking. As I rang again, I watched the door’s peephole.  Insane barking. I saw a shadow. “Reggie! You stop that!” Whimpering from Reggie, then a shriek of pain. She had probably whacked him or brushed him aside with her foot.  “Who is it?” Sounding cautious and annoyed. For a second I felt guilty that I had disrupted her morning. “Jimmy Redmond. I’m a friend of Jason’s.” “Jimmy,” she muttered softly. “Jimmy…”   “We were buddies at Mission High. Classes, wrestling…” I knew better than to say we were on the team together. It would be too easy to look up. She opened the door a crack. “You don’t look familiar.” “That was a long time ago. ...

  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 symp...