Ransom Read online

  “I did,” Sam said quickly.

  “You did?” His mother looked at him with amazement. “You went outside?” It seemed more than unlikely to her, and she looked at him skeptically, as did his brother and sister. Ashley thought he was lying to seem important to the police.

  “I looked out the window. The movie got kind of boring.”

  “What did you see?” Ted asked with interest. The boy was cute as could be, and reminded him of one of his own sons, when he was little. He had had that same open, funny way of talking to strangers, and everyone he met loved him as a result. “What did you see, Sam?” Ted asked, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs, so he didn't tower over him. He was a tall man, and once he sat down, Sam looked him right in the eye without hesitating.

  “People were kissing,” Sam said firmly with a look of disgust.

  “Outside your window?”

  “No. On the movie. That's why it was boring. Kissing is stupid.”

  Even Will smiled at that one, and Ashley giggled, while Fernanda watched him with a sad smile, wondering if he'd ever see kissing again in real life. Maybe not in her lifetime. Only in his. She forced the thought from her mind, as Ted asked him more questions. “What did you see outside?”

  “Mrs. Farber walking her dog. He always tries to bite me.”

  “That's not very nice. Did you see anyone else?”

  “Mr. Cooper with his golf bag. He plays every Sunday. And there was a man walking down the street, but I didn't know him.”

  “What did he look like?” Ted asked almost casually.

  Sam frowned as he thought about it. “I can't remember. I just know I saw him.”

  “Did he look weird or scary? Do you remember anything about him?” Sam shook his head.

  “I just know I saw him, but I didn't pay any attention. I was looking at Mr. Cooper. He bumped into Mrs. Farber with his golf bag, and her dog started barking. I wanted to see if the dog would bite him.”

  “And did he?” Ted asked with interest.

  “No. Mrs. Farber pulled on the leash, and yelled at him.”

  “She yelled at Mr. Cooper?” he asked, smiling, and Sam grinned. He liked him, and answering Ted's questions was fun.

  “No,” Sam explained patiently, “she yelled at the dog, so he wouldn't bite Mr. Cooper. And then I went back to the movie. And then after that, it sounded like something blew up.”

  “And that's all you saw?”

  Sam concentrated again and then nodded. “Oh. And I think I saw a lady too. I didn't know her either. She was running.”

  “Which way was she running?”

  Sam pointed away from the place where the car blew up.

  “What did she look like?”

  “Nothing special. She looked kind of like Ashley.”

  “Was she with the man you didn't know?”

  “No, he was walking the other way, and she bumped into him. Mrs. Farber's dog barked at her too, but the lady just ran by them. And that's all I saw,” Sam said conclusively, and then he glanced up at the others, looking embarrassed. He was afraid they would accuse him of showing off. Sometimes they did.

  “That was very good, Sam,” Ted complimented him, and then looked at his brother and sister.

  “What about you guys? Did you see anything?”

  “I was sleeping,” Ashley said, but she was no longer hostile about it. She liked him. And the questions were interesting.

  “I was doing my science project,” Will added. “I didn't look up till I heard the explosion. I had the Giants game on, but the explosion was really loud.”

  “I'll bet it was,” Ted said, nodding, and then stood up again. “If you think of anything else, any of you, give us a call. Your mom has our number.” They all nodded, and as an afterthought, Fernanda asked him a question.

  “Whose car was it? Any of our neighbors, or just a car parked on the street?” She hadn't been able to tell with the fire trucks all around it. The car had been unrecognizable by then, engulfed in flames.

  “Judge McIntyre's, he's one of your neighbors. You probably know him. He's out of town, but Mrs. McIntyre was there. She was about to go out and drive somewhere, and it really scared her. Fortunately, she was still in the house when the incident occurred.”

  “It scared me too,” Sam said honestly.

  “It scared all of us,” Fernanda admitted.

  “It sounded like they blew up the whole block,” Will added. “I bet it was a car bomb,” he insisted.

  “We'll let you know,” Ted volunteered, but Fernanda suspected they wouldn't.

  “Do you think it was meant for Judge McIntyre, if it was a bomb?” Fernanda asked with fresh interest.

  “Probably not. It was probably just some random, crazy thing.” But this time, she didn't believe him. There had been too many police cars on the scene, and the captain's car had arrived very quickly. She was beginning to think Will was right. They were obviously looking for someone, and doing some careful checking. Too much so, she thought, for it to be just a random fire.

  Detective Lee thanked them, then he and his partner said good night as they left, and Fernanda closed the door behind them with a thoughtful look.

  “That was interesting,” she said to Sam. He was feeling very important after answering all their questions. They talked about it all the way up the stairs, and then went back to their own rooms, and Fernanda went back to finish cleaning up the kitchen.

  “Cute kid,” Ted Lee said to Jeff Stone as they walked to the next house, where no one had seen anything either. They checked all the houses on the block, including the Farbers and the Coopers Sam had mentioned. No one had seen anything, or at least nothing they remembered. Ted was still thinking of the adorable little redheaded kid three hours later, when they went back to their office, and he poured himself a cup of coffee. He was putting cream in it, when Jeff Stone made a random comment.

  “We got a printout on Carlton Waters this week. Remember him? The guy who killed a couple of people when he was seventeen, was tried as an adult, appealed about a million times, and tried to get a pardon. He never got it. He got out this week. Paroled to Modesto, I think. Wasn't McIntyre the sentencing judge on that case? I remember reading about it somewhere. He said he never doubted for a minute Waters was guilty. Waters claims his partner pulled the trigger and did the shooting, he was just standing there, innocent as a newborn babe. The other guy died by lethal injection at San Quentin a few years later. I think Waters was in Pelican Bay.”

  “So what are you telling me?” Ted asked as he took a sip of the steaming coffee. “That Waters did it? Not very smart of him, if he did. He tries to blow up the sentencing judge, twenty-four years later, a couple of days after he gets out of prison? He can't be that dumb. He's a smart guy. I read a couple of his articles. He's no fool. He knows he'd get a one-way ticket back to Pelican Bay on an express train on that one, and he'd be the first one they'd think of. It's got to be someone else, or just a random thing. Judge McIntyre must have pissed off a lot of folks before he retired. Waters isn't the only one he ever sent to prison.”

  “I was just thinking. It's an interesting coincidence. But probably only that. Might be worth a look though. Want to ride up to Modesto tomorrow?”

  “Sure. Why not? If you think there's something to it. I don't. But I don't mind a ride in the country. We can go up there as soon as we come on, and be there by seven. Maybe something else will turn up between now and then.” But no one had seen anything or anyone suspicious so far. They had come up dry at every house.

  The only thing that did turn up was the confirmation from Forensics that it had in fact been a car bomb. A nice one. It would have done the judge and his wife some serious damage if they'd been in the car. As it turned out, it had gone off prematurely. The bomb had a timer, and the judge's wife had missed being blown to kingdom come, by at least five minutes. When they called the judge on the number his wife had given them, he said that he was convinced someone was trying to kill him. But
like Ted, he thought Carlton Waters was too big a stretch. He had put too much effort into winning his freedom to take a risk like that after he'd only been out a few days.

  “The guy's too smart for that,” the judge commented on the phone. “I've read some of the articles he's written. He still claims he's innocent, but he's not dumb enough to try and blow me up the week he gets out.” There were at least a dozen other possibilities, of people he suspected were furious at him, and who were out of prison. The judge had been retired for the last five years.

  Ted and Jeff went to Modesto anyway, and arrived at the halfway house just as Malcolm Stark, Jim Free, and Carlton Waters were coming back from dinner. Jim Free had talked them into going to the coffee shop at the gas station, so he could see his girl.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” Ted said pleasantly, as all three men looked instantly guarded and hostile. They could smell cops a mile away.

  “What brings you here?” Waters asked, once he heard where they were from.

  “A little incident in our neck of the woods just yesterday,” Ted explained. “A car bombing of Judge McIntyre's vehicle. You may remember the name,” he said, looking Waters in the eye.

  “Yes, I do. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy,” Waters said without hesitating. “Wish I'd had the balls to do it myself, but he's not worth going back to the joint for. Did they kill him?” he asked hopefully.

  “Fortunately not. He was out of town. But whoever did it nearly killed his wife. The bomb missed her by about five minutes.”

  “What a shame,” Waters said, looking entirely undismayed. Lee was watching him, and it was easy to see how smart he was. He was as cool as a glacier in Antarctica, but Ted was inclined to agree with the judge. There was no way Waters was going to risk going back to the joint by doing something as dumb as blowing up the sentencing judge's car. Although there was always the possibility that he was in fact just that ballsy, and just that cool. He could have gotten there by bus certainly, planted the bomb, and gotten back to Modesto again, in time for curfew at the halfway house, with time to spare. But Ted's instincts told him that this wasn't their man. It was an unholy trio, though. He knew who the other two were, and how long they'd been out. Ted always read the printouts when they got them. And he remembered their names. They were a nasty piece of work. He had never bought Waters's claims of innocence either, and he didn't trust him now. All convicts claimed that they'd been framed, and set up either by their girlfriends, their running partners, or their attorneys. He'd heard it too many times. Waters was a tough customer, and smoother than Lee liked. He had all the earmarks of a sociopath, a man with little or no conscience, and he was definitely a smart guy.

  “Where were you yesterday, by the way?” Ted Lee asked, as Waters stood watching him with an icy stare.

  “Around here. I took a bus ride to see some relatives. They were out, so I hung out on their porch for a while, came back, and sat around with these guys.” There was no one to corroborate the earlier part of his alibi, so Ted didn't bother to ask for names.

  “How nice. Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts?” Ted asked, looking him right in the eye.

  “A couple of bus drivers. I still have the ticket stubs, if you want.”

  “Let's see the stubs.” Waters looked furious, but he went up to his room and brought them back. They showed a destination in the Modesto area, and had obviously been used. Only half the stubs were left. There was nothing to say he hadn't torn them himself, but Ted Lee didn't think he had. Waters looked totally unconcerned as Ted handed the tickets back. “Well, keep your noses clean, guys. We'll come back and see you sometime, if anything comes up.” They knew he had the right to question them, or even search them, whenever he chose. All three were on parole.

  “Yeah, and don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out,” Jim Free added under his breath as they left. Ted and Jeff heard what he said, but didn't react, got back in their car, and drove away, as Waters watched them with a look of hatred in his eyes.

  “Pigs,” Malcolm Stark commented, and Waters said nothing. He just turned on his heel and went back inside. He wondered if every time they had a wrinkle in their shorts in San Francisco, they were going to show up and question him. They could do anything they wanted with him, and he could do nothing about it, as long as he was on parole. The only thing he didn't want was to get sent back.

  “So what do you think?” Ted asked his partner as they drove away. “Think he's clean?” Ted was of two minds, and thought anything was possible. His gut was still suspicious of him, but his head told him that the bomb had to have been put there by someone else. Waters couldn't have been dumb enough to do something like that. He was smart. But Ted had to admit, he looked like a bad guy. The bomb could have been set there as a warning of bigger things to come, since a timed bomb would only have killed the judge or his wife if they were in the car or standing near it when the bomb went off.

  “Actually, no I don't think he's clean,” Jeff Stone answered. “I think the guy's a nasty piece of work, and innocent on his first beef, my ass. I think he's ballsy enough to roll right into town, plant the bomb on McIntyre's vehicle, and come right back up here without missing lunch. I think he's capable of it. But I think he's too smart to do it. I don't think he did it this time. But I wouldn't trust the guy farther than I could throw him. I think he'll be back. We'll be hearing from him again.” They had both seen men like him go back to the joint too many times.

  Ted agreed. “Maybe we should run his mug shots, and show them up and down the street, just in case. Maybe the Barnes kid would remember him, if he saw a picture of him. You never know.”

  “It can't hurt,” Jeff said, nodding, and thinking about the three men they had just seen. A kidnapper, a murderer, and a drug runner. They were an ugly group, and a bad lot. “I'll run the shots when we get back. We can take them around on Tuesday, and see if anyone remembers seeing him on the street.”

  “My guess is they won't,” Ted said as they got back on the freeway again. It was hot in Modesto, and the trip hadn't produced anything for them, but he was glad they had gone anyway. He'd never seen Carlton Waters before, and there was something about seeing him in the flesh. The guy gave him the creeps, and Ted was absolutely dead certain they'd be seeing him again. He was that kind of guy. There was nothing rehabilitated about him. He had spent twenty-four years in prison, and Ted was certain that he was far more dangerous than he had been before he went in. He had been to gladiator school now for nearly two-thirds of his life. It was a depressing thought, and Ted just hoped he didn't kill someone again before he went back.

  The two detectives drove in silence for a while, and then talked about the car bombing again. Jeff was going to run a list through the computer of all the people Judge McIntyre had sentenced in his last twenty years on the bench, and see who else was out. It was probably someone else who'd been out for a while, longer than Carl. The only thing they knew for sure was that it hadn't been a random act. It had been a gift meant exclusively for the judge, or failing him, his wife. It was not a reassuring thought, but Ted assumed they'd figure out who it was eventually. Carlton Waters wasn't entirely out of the running yet. He didn't have a corroborated alibi, but there was no evidence that pinned it to him either, and he and Jeff both suspected there wouldn't be. If Waters had done it, he was too smart for that. Even if he'd done it, they might never be able to pin it on him. But if nothing else, having seen him now, Ted was going to keep an eye out for him. And he figured that one of these days, Carlton Waters was going to drift across his screen again. It was almost inevitable. He was just that kind of guy.

  Chapter 7

  The doorbell rang at five o'clock on Tuesday, while Fernanda was in the kitchen, reading a letter from Jack Waterman, listing the things she had to sell and what she could expect to get for them. His estimate was conservative, but they were both hoping that if she sold everything, including the jewelry Allan had given her, and there was a lot of it, she might be able to s
tart her new life at ground zero and not significantly below it, which was her worst fear. At best, she had to start from scratch, and she had no idea how she was going to support herself for the next several years, let alone get her kids through college when they got to that point. For the moment, all she could do was trust that she would come up with some idea. For now she would just get through each day, keep swimming, and do her best not to drown.

  Will was upstairs doing homework, or pretending to. Sam was playing in his room, and Ashley was at rehearsal for her ballet recital, and due to finish at seven. Fernanda was going to make dinner late for all of them, which gave her more time to brood, as she sat in the kitchen, and gave a start when she heard the doorbell. She wasn't expecting anyone, and the car bombing of two days before was the last thing on her mind when she went to the door and saw Ted Lee through the peephole. He was alone, and he was wearing a white shirt, dark tie, and blazer. He had looked eminently respectable both times she'd seen him.

  She opened the door with a look of surprise, and realized again how tall he was. He had a manila envelope in his hands, and seemed to hesitate, until she asked him to come in. He saw a look of strain in her eyes, her hair was loose, and she seemed weary. He wondered what was bothering her. She looked as though she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. But as he walked in, she smiled, and made an effort to be pleasant.

  “Hello, Detective. How are you today?” she asked with a tired smile.

  “I'm fine. I'm sorry to bother you. I wanted to stop by and show you a mug shot.” He glanced around, as he had on Sunday. It was hard not to be impressed by the house, and the obviously priceless pieces in it. It looked almost like a museum. And in her jeans and T-shirt, as she had on Sunday, she looked somewhat out of place in her casual style. In the setting she lived in, she looked as though she should be sweeping down the stairs in an evening gown, trailing a fur coat behind her. But she didn't look like that kind of woman. Instinctively, Ted suspected he'd like her. She seemed like a normal person, and a gentle woman, although a sad one. Her grief was stamped all over her, and he sensed correctly that she was deeply attached to, and fiercely protective of, her children. Ted always had a good sense of people, and he trusted his own instincts about her.