Читать книгу Brody Law: The Bridge / The District / The Wharf / The Hill - Carol Ericson - Страница 16

Chapter Nine

Sean lowered his hands, but his fists remained clenched at his sides. He shot a sideways glance at Elise, whose face sported three different shades of red. But she didn’t look afraid. Angry, but not afraid.

“What are you doing here, Ty?”

“What do you think? I’m here to take you home.”

“I am home.” She twisted her head around to look at Courtney’s building. “Sort of.”

“You don’t belong here. You’re coming back with me.”

Elise made a cross with her fingers and held them in front of her. “No, I’m not. And stop calling yourself my fiancé. That ended a long time ago.”

That last line finally made Sean’s shoulders relax. He knew Elise wasn’t hiding anything.

Not like him.

“Who is this, Elise, and what’s he doing here?”

The man threw back his shoulders and his cold blue eyes raked Sean from head to toe. “Who are you?”

“This is ridiculous. Ty, this is Detective Sean Brody. Sean, this is Ty Russell from back home, and I have no idea what he’s doing here or how he found me.”

Ty took a step back. “I found out what happened to you, and I’m here to bring you back.”

Elise closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples. “How in the world did you find out and how did you find me here?”

“I have my sources.”

Elise raked her hands through her loose hair. “Oh, please. Did you con Courtney somehow? Because we both know what a con artist you are.”

The man physically flinched as if Elise had slapped him. Obviously, these two had history but it sure didn’t sound as if they were engaged anymore—if they ever were.

“Someone attacked you and broke into your house. You’re not safe here.” He turned to Sean. “Detective, don’t you agree?”

He did agree, but he didn’t want Elise going back to Montana with this cowboy—her ex-fiancé. And what did he do to become Elise’s ex? Must’ve been something really stupid.

“I’m...we’re doing what we can to keep Elise safe. The choice is hers.”

Ty narrowed his eyes as his gaze shifted between him and Elise.

Had his feelings for Elise seeped into his voice? What were his feelings for Elise?

“Thank you very much.” She stamped her bare foot on the ground. “Go home, Ty—alone. I’m not going with you, now or ever.”

Ty’s face reddened and his face puffed up as if he was about to explode. Had he been abusive toward Elise?

“Step off.” Sean inserted himself between Ty and Elise.

Ty sputtered. “Are you kidding me? Why don’t you go get yourself a doughnut and leave me to talk some sense into my fiancée?”

“Thanks, but I don’t eat doughnuts.” Sean drew his shoulders back. “And Elise already told you she’s not engaged to you, so giddyap on back to Wyoming.”

Ty’s mouth gaped open and he bunched his hands in front of him. “It’s Montana.”

“Whatever.” He dropped his gaze to Ty’s white-knuckled fists. “Or I can take you in for disturbing the peace.”

Ty jabbed his finger in the air. “I’m not giving up on you, Elise. I’ll be here for a few days if you change your mind, and if you don’t I’ll bring your brothers down here with me to this freak-show city to get you home.”

“Buh-bye.” Elise curled her fingers into a wave. “Try the sourdough bread bowl with clam chowder on your way out of the freak show.”

Ty grunted and stalked off, calling over his shoulder, “I’m staying at some dump in Fisherman’s Wharf.”

“Good. You can get the bread bowl there.” She tossed back her hair and sighed. “I can’t believe Courtney called him. It had to be her. I thought she was on my side.”

“Maybe she was just worried about you and thought it best that you take a break.”

She jerked her thumb at Ty’s retreating form. “With that?”

“So, what’s the story, if you don’t mind my asking?”

She dropped onto the low stone wall in front of Courtney’s building. “We were engaged. We were high school sweethearts and all that stuff, blah, blah, blah.”

“He obviously had the stamp of approval from your brothers since he’s considering calling them in as reinforcements.”

“Oh, yeah, my parents, too.”

“And then you grew up? Changed?” He rested his foot on the wall next to her.

“I wish I could claim that, but I was a coward. All the forces in our world were pushing us together and the flow carried me along in its current even though I had misgivings.”

“What finally happened to get you to swim against the tide?”

She pinned her hands between her knees and lifted her shoulders. “He cheated on me.”

“What an idiot.” What man in his right mind would risk losing this woman? “How’d you find out?”

“My maid of honor told me.” She raised her eyes to his. “On my wedding day.”

“Ouch.”

“I didn’t want to believe it, at first, but I guess deep down I knew.”

“You called off the wedding.”

A grin spread across her face. “Not at first.”

“What does that mean? You married him and had it annulled?”

“My maid of honor told me while she was helping me dress for the wedding, while all the guests were arriving or sitting in their seats.” She stuck her legs in front of her and tapped her toes together like a naughty schoolgirl. “I figured they got all dressed up for the occasion, I might as well give them a show.”

“You called it off during the ceremony?” The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.

“I did. It was a big story in town, even made the local newspaper—runaway bride.”

He threw his head back and laughed. No wonder Ty was so desperate to get her back. He had some face to save.

“I walked down the aisle, smiling into the lying face that waited for me under the trellis, and when I got there I exposed him as a liar and a cheat.” She pointed her toes. “Then I kicked off my white satin shoes and ran back up the aisle—alone.”

“I’ve never met anyone who ran out on their wedding. That’s impressive.”

“It was just like a country music video.”

“What did old Ty do after that?”

“Came after me, of course, but I wasn’t having any of it. My bags were already packed for the honeymoon that never happened, so I threw them in my car and drove to San Francisco.”

“And you’ve been here ever since?”

“I went home once to get the rest of my stuff.”

“That’s quite a story.” He wiped his eyes. “Why this city?”

“The bridge.”

His head shot up. “The Golden Gate Bridge?”

“Is there any other?” She linked her fingers and stretched her arms over her head. “My parents took my brothers and me here on a vacation one year. I was fascinated by that bridge, and when we walked across it and I looked back toward the city and out to Alcatraz, I decided then and there I’d come back.”

“And here you are.”

“The other night when I was out in the bay scrabbling for my life, I almost felt like the bridge was protecting me, looking over me.” She glanced up, a blush flagging her cheeks. “Silly, huh?”

“No.”

“Anyway—” she stood up and brushed off the seat of her jeans “—that’s my sordid story.”

“I knew it took guts to escape from a killer, but it really took guts to run out on your wedding.”

Screwing up her face, she shook her head. “Not really. I was a wimp. I didn’t want to marry Ty even before I found out he’d cheated. I let myself be railroaded by him, my family and what everyone expected of me.”

Sean wedged a knuckle beneath her chin. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“I just don’t think it’s all that admirable to run out on a wedding that should’ve never taken place to begin with.”

The radio crackled from the car, and Sean dropped his hand and stuffed it in his pocket before he could do anything stupid again. “Keep safe and get that phone. I’m off tomorrow, but you have my personal cell. Give me a call when you get your new number.”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted. “I’ll probably get it today if the phone store is open.”

He waved and ducked into his car.

Sean kept an eye on Elise in his rearview mirror as she watched his car pull away. She looked small and defenseless against the dark force hanging over her head, but he knew better.

She had a lot of courage and pluck packed into that lithe frame, and she wasn’t the kind of woman to back down from a challenge...or a killer.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, Elise drove across the Bay Bridge to her school in Oakland. If Ty could see the school where she taught her kindergarteners, he’d kidnap her to take her back to Montana.

She’d confronted Courtney and discovered it was her brother, Oscar, who had called Ty. Once he’d discovered where she lived, Ty had made it a point to contact Oscar, befriend him and enlist him as a spy.

She’d have to give Oscar a piece of her mind when he returned from his trip.

Turning onto the school’s street, she swerved around a trash can that had tumbled from the sidewalk. She slowed down to glare at a couple of older boys hanging out on the street corner. Her kids had to dodge so much just to get to school.

She pulled into the parking lot, dragged her bag from the back and hitched it over her shoulder.

One of the second-grade teachers held the door open for her. “How was your weekend?”

“Not long enough.” Elise slipped past the other teacher and headed down the hallway to her classroom. She had no intention of telling anyone at her school about her terrifying brush with a serial killer.

The students hadn’t filtered in yet. They lined up outside until the bell rang, and the teachers in the lower grades always escorted their pupils into the school.

Elise unlocked the door to her classroom and bumped it open with her hip. She breathed in the smell of crayons, books and stale bread—all hallmarks of a kindergarten classroom.

“Ready for the last week of school?” Lydia Cummings, one of the other kindergarten teachers, poked her head in the room.

“I don’t know.” Elise’s gaze scanned the colorful artwork tacked up on the walls and the fledgling lima bean plants growing in the windows, finally resting on the big, red number four she’d written on the whiteboard to indicate the number of days left in the school year. “I always miss them over the summer until I get the new batch in the fall.”

“Spoken like a true kindergarten teacher.” Lydia gave her a misty smile. “We’re really lucky you came to us this year.”

“I feel exactly the same way.” Elise pulled a new book and a deflated beach ball out of her bag and dropped them on her desk before leaving to collect her students.

She tugged her sweater around her body and held it closed with folded arms as she walked onto the playground shrouded in a gray mist indistinguishable from the blacktop. Kids scurried between the white lines to get in place before the bell rang.

She approached the line for her classroom, which resembled a worm, wriggling this way and that.

Three of her students chanted in unison, “Good morning, Miss Duran.”

“Good morning.” She put on her brightest smile.

A small boy darted from the line and wrapped his arms around her legs in a kindergarten hug.

She patted his back. “Good morning, Eli.”

This is what she’d miss over the summer, this pure, honest affection—no deceit, no subterfuge.

The bell blared over the playground, and the older kids shuffled off to their classes, bumping each other and snickering at private jokes. Elise clapped her hands. “Here we go.”

The line of squiggling children wended its way through the double doors down the hallway to the kindergarten rooms.

The kids sensed their impending freedom in four days. Restlessness bubbled throughout the classroom, and Elise had to raise her voice and rap on her desktop more than once to get her students back on task.

Her gaze wandered to the big clock on the wall several times. The antsy kids were having an effect on her. Finally the bell rang for recess and lunch. Elise escorted her kids to the playground and then headed for the teachers’ lounge to grab some lunch. The kinder teachers rotated lunchtime duty every day, two of them helping the aides and two enjoying the luxury of lunch in the staff room.

Elise popped the lid of a plastic container of Courtney’s leftover pasta and shoved it into the microwave. She turned toward Viola, the other teacher on break. “Are you headed to Alabama right after school ends or later in the summer?”

“Leaving next week.” Viola kicked off her shoes and propped her feet up on the chair across from her. “I’m enjoying the cool weather while I can, although I’m kind of looking forward to getting out of the city.”

“Really?” The microwave beeped and Elise removed her container and carried it to the table next to Viola’s. “You were dreading the thought of heat and humidity and extended family just a few weeks ago.”

Viola wiggled her toes and glanced up from her smartphone. “That’s before we had a killer on the loose.”

Elise’s hand jerked and the steam burned her wrist. She dropped the lid. “Y-you mean that woman found by the bay?”

“She’s not the only one.”

“She’s not?” Elise’s throat tightened. Had there been another murder? Sean hadn’t mentioned anything on the phone last night when she’d called him with her new number. Had they finally tied the woman at the Presidio to this killer?

Viola shook her head. “Not yet, but there was another one that got away.”

“When was that?” Viola must be referring to her attack. The SFPD had been trying to keep Elise’s encounter out of the press, just as they were trying to keep particular aspects of Katie’s murder a secret, despite that reporter’s best efforts. They had to do that. Sean had to keep certain secrets.

“Not sure. Friday night. No details on that one, but the police suspect it was the same guy who murdered the other one.” Viola hunched her shoulders and dropped her phone. “I hate it when stuff like this happens.”

“Me, too.”

The phone on the lunchroom wall rang, and they both jumped. Elise shoved back from the table and grabbed the receiver. “Lunchroom.”

“Elise, is that you?”

“Yep.”

“I got a call in the front office for you. He’s still on the line, so I’m going to transfer him over.”

Elise swallowed. “Okay.”

“Go ahead, sir.”

“Did you change your phone number because of me?”

She heaved out a sigh and rolled her eyes at Viola. “No, Ty. I had to get a new phone and a new number. Why don’t you just go home?”

“I’ve been doing a little investigating of that Detective Brody. You’re not going to like...”

“What I don’t like is you harassing me. For the millionth time, I’m not going home with you—now or ever. Give it up and move on. It’s been over a year. Don’t call me again.” She slammed the receiver home.

“Girl, is that the ex-fiancé?”

“He came all the way here to take me home. What’s he going to do, kidnap me?”

She shook her head. “Men. They don’t want you unless they can’t have you.”

They finished lunch discussing more pleasant topics, such as the end-of-the-school-year party. Elise hadn’t felt like telling Viola that Ty had come here to rescue her from a killer. That she was the one who got away. She didn’t want to be the object of anyone’s pity or amazement or projected fear.

The door to the teachers’ lounge burst open and Mrs. McKinney, the senior kindergarten teacher, charged through clutching Eli’s arm.

Eli turned his round eyes on Elise, his mouth a matching circle.

Elise jumped up. She didn’t like Mrs. McKinney’s disciplinary methods with the kids, and Eli looked scared out of his wits. “What’s going on?”

“This young man was disobeying school rules on the playground.”

“But he told me. He gave me...”

“Silence, young man.”

Elise crossed the room and took Eli’s hand, pulling him away from Mrs. McKinney’s clutches. “What happened, Eli?”

Mrs. McKinney butted in. “I spotted Eli on the far side of the playground on the grass by the gate. He’s not supposed to be outside of the kindergarten play area.”

Elise squeezed Eli’s hand. “You need to stay on our playground, Eli. Miss Ellen and Mrs. Dory can’t watch you way over there.”

“That’s not all, Miss Duran.” Mrs. McKinney thrust out her formidable bosom. “Eli was talking to a stranger at the fence.”

Elise tapped Eli’s brown cheek with her finger. “You’re not supposed to talk to strangers, Eli. Promise Mrs. McKinney you won’t do that again.”

Eli dropped his gaze and scuffed the toe of his Converse sneakers against the linoleum floor, shoving his hand in the front pocket of his jeans. “I promise.”

She smiled. “That’s better. Are you satisfied, Mrs. McKinney? I don’t think Eli needs to go to Principal Yarborough.”

Mrs. McKinney huffed. “I suppose not, but we can’t have these kids wandering around the playground and talking to strangers.”

“Okay. That’s settled, then. You can walk to the line with me, Eli.” She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers.

He buried his hand deeper in his pocket and jutted out his lower lip. “But he gave me something.”

“Candy?” Mrs. McKinney snapped her head around. “Did he give you candy, Eli? Hand it over.”

“N-no.” His big brown eyes met Elise’s. “He gave me something for you, Miss Duran.”

Elise’s stomach dropped and she grabbed on to the back of the chair. “What do you mean, Eli? The stranger you were talking to at the gate gave you something to give to me?”

“Yes.” He bobbed his head up and down.

Viola cleared her throat and whispered, “Maybe it was your crazy ex.”

Maybe it was Sean. “Was he a police officer?”

“Yes, Miss Duran.” He slid a sideways glance at Mrs. McKinney that tried to put her in her place.

Elise’s pulse quickened. It must’ve been Sean checking up on her, but he should’ve just come into her classroom. He should know better than to bother the children.

“What did he give you?” Mrs. McKinney’s eyes narrowed.

Eli dragged his hand out of his pocket, a crumpled piece of white paper in his fist. “Here. He gave me this.”

Viola raised her brows and shook her finger at Elise. “Why is a cop coming to school and sending you notes?”

Elise’s cheeks warmed as she flipped open the folded piece of paper. The words swam before her eyes, and the blood in her veins turned to ice water.

“What does it say, Elise?” Viola took a step forward.

Elise raised her eyes from the note and blinked, bringing Viola’s face, lined with worry, into focus. Then she glanced down at Eli, his usually sweet face contorted by fear.

She dropped to her knees in front of him and tweaked his nose. “Thank you for bringing the note to me, Eli. But promise me you’ll never talk to a stranger like that again.”

“I promise, Miss Duran.” His lower lip trembled. “I-is the note bad?”

“This?” She waved it in the air. “Not at all. Mrs. McKinney’s going to take you back outside to play, but stay in the kinder yard.”

A tremulous smile wobbled across his face. “Yes, Miss Duran.”

Mrs. McKinney shot her a worried look. “Let’s go, young man. I heard you’re the only kindergartner who can hop on one foot all the way across the blacktop, and I want to see that before the bell rings.”

Elise mouthed thank you over Eli’s head and transferred his grimy little hand from hers to Mrs. McKinney’s.

When the door closed behind them, Viola spun around. “What is in that note?”

Elise took a deep breath and read aloud. “‘One plus one equal 187. Six plus twelve equal 187. Thirty-seven plus forty-nine plus 122 plus twenty-eight equal 187. 187 for you.’”

Viola cocked her head and plucked the note from Elise’s fingers.

Elise rubbed her damp hands against her skirt and swallowed. “I have no idea what it means, but it’s probably related to something that happened this past weekend.”

“Elise, you know my husband’s a cop with the Oakland P.D.”

“Yeah, I know that, but I’m sort of already working with the SFPD on this.”

Viola shook her head. “It’s not that, but I know what 187 means in cop-speak, anyway.”

“What does it mean?”

“Murder.”