Chapter 10
The next day they were short three pairs of hands. Michael, Fiona, and Jesse were out collecting intelligence on Angela. Jack and Sasha finished laying the plywood for the roof, while Sam, Tom, Pam and Samuel worked on the sides of the house. Mrs. Petersen stopped by once to complain about the noise, but when Sam apologized, again, she gave him a surprising bit of news.
"I was up late last night taking my medicine, and I thought I saw someone out here," she told him, getting close and speaking in a voice so low it was almost a whisper.
"You saw someone out here? What time?"
"It was after midnight. I had a splitting headache, migraines, you know. And I was getting my medicine from the bathroom upstairs, when I heard a noise. I looked down and saw someone walking along the side of the house."
"Were they big? Tall like a guy? Or petite like a woman?"
"I don't know." She shook her head, and her tone changed to worry. "I'm afraid it was that woman, Mr. Axe."
"Well, we didn't see anything out of the ordinary around here this morning. Nothing's missing, so whatever he or she was doing, it must not have been much." He paused and lay a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks for letting me know anyway, Mrs. Petersen."
"You're welcome, Mr. Axe." She turned to walk away, but stopped and glanced over her shoulder. "Could you please keep it down this afternoon? My favorite show is on at 2, and I don't want to miss it with all that noise!"
Sam grinned. "We'll take a long break from the really loud stuff at 2. Will that work for you?"
She smiled at him. "You are a nice man, Mr. Axe. Good day."
"Good day, Mrs. P!" He noted the uptick in her smile when he called her that and filed it away for the future. Then he got back to work measuring where to cut the windows in the siding.
"So the old lady wants us to tone it down again, huh?" Jack asked as he stood on the ground taking a water break.
"Just at 2. There's some show on that she wants to watch."
Jack laughed. "And you're really gonna accommodate her? If she had her way, we'd never get anything done!"
"Now Jack, you have to admit that she's been pretty accommodating herself," Tom pointed out as he grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler. "She could be over here all the time fussing about the noise, but she isn't." He squinted as he glanced at his neighbor. "I think she's got a soft spot for you, Sam."
"Oh yeah, that's right. Not too many women are immune to Sam Axe," Jack agreed with a chuckle. "You gotta admit, though, it's kind of embarrassing to have an old lady after you."
Sam gave him a disgusted look. "She's not after me, Jack. Jeez! Why don't you make yourself useful and get back up on that roof?"
"Aye, Sir!" He gave Sam a half-serious salute, grabbed two more bottles of water, and scrambled up the ladder. Sasha waited on the ridgepole and took one of the bottles from him.
He didn't mean to snap at his friend. It was just that his mind was so full of worry about his family, concern about getting the house done, and keeping Mrs. P on his good side. She was a busybody, but people like that could give good intel when needed. He just wished she had better eyesight and could have given him a better description of the prowler. It had to be Angela. Hard to believe she could stay sober enough to keep harassing us at all hours.
"Hey Axeman! Get back to work...Sir!" Jack laughed from his perch on the ridgepole.
"Just watch what you're doing up there, Jack. They had to crack your head open once, don't do it by accident this time!"
Jack pointed at him as if he held a gun. "Right on target there, Axe. Touche!" He swung a leg over the peak and shimmied down the side to join Sasha in her work.
In the afternoon, in deference to Mrs. Petersen, Sam joined Jack and Sasha on the roof laying tar paper on the side away from her house, an activity that created less racket, as Mrs. Petersen liked to call it.
"Sorry, Sam, neither Pam nor I is good with heights, and we've got to take care of some errands," Tom begged off joining them. "We'll see you tomorrow, though! And we'll try to get as much done as we can on Saturday, but after that, I have to go back to work."
Sam noted Tom's apologetic look and shook his hand. "No problem. I'm just grateful for the time you were able to give me."
"The offer from the guys at church still stands. It's not like you're taking them for granted." He smiled. "Hey, I have an idea. Maybe you can barter with them for their services."
"Barter? What'd you have in mind?"
"Well, I know you have access to sources that can find out information..."
"Yeah, I have a lot of connections." Sam narrowed his eyes at him. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that maybe if anyone ever needs a background check on somebody, you could do the legwork for them. These guys, some of them have their own contracting businesses, and they need checks done on potential employees. They don't want to get caught with illegals, or, um, undesirable employees. You know what I mean?"
"Yes, I do. That's a great idea, Tom. I could definitely help out in that department." Sam smiled. "You just let 'em know we'll work out a deal if they're interested, and they can come over any time to work."
"Sounds like a plan, Sam. See you tomorrow!"
Sam was about to get back up the ladder to help with the papering when he heard car doors slamming. He turned around and saw Michael and Fiona walking across the grass, so he waited until they stopped in front of him. They didn't look happy.
"Okay, what's up?"
"We've been checking every source we know and doing a little undercover work," Michael began. "And we think we may have found Raul's apartment. There was a car matching the description of the one Angela was driving sitting in front of the building on the street."
"So why the glum faces?"
"We staked it out all day and she hasn't shown her face. Jesse is taking a shift now," Fiona replied. "He said he'd call if he saw her and then tail her on foot or by car, whatever it took."
"Well, that's something, isn't it?"
"I just really wish she'd show her skanky little face," Fiona said through clenched teeth. "No one hits a child. No one terrorizes them like she has and gets away with it."
"Now Fi, watch it. I don't want to have to tell you to go home and settle down, do I?"
"Michael, you don't understand!" She looked so ferocious, Sam took a step backward.
Michael took Fiona by the upper arms and looked into her eyes. "I understand perfectly, Fi. You're letting your emotions...I mean, hormones...get in the way of good judgment." He paused and emotion touched the tone of his voice. "I don't want to bench you, but if I have to, I will."
Fiona squared her jaw and looked at Michael through slitted eyes. She wasn't used to him being hyper concerned about her. "Maybe you're having issues of your own with...hormones."
"I doubt it. I'm the one with the cool head here."
"Fi, I hate to say this, but Mikey's right. If we don't play this careful and smooth, she's going to go off the deep end and then who knows what we'll be up against?" He glanced around. He'd been doing that a lot lately. "We just have to wait her out, and eventually she'll make another attempt. Then we'll be ready."
"In the meantime, we'll keep staking out the place and checking out a few other leads. I just wanted to let you know what's happening, since you're kind of busy." Michael smiled and looked up at the roof. "It's looking good."
"Thanks, Mike. I want to get it shingled before we get to the rainy season. At that point everything will be inside, and Mrs. P will be happy."
"You're going to have to hustle then, Sam. Jesse and I will come on Saturday and help on the roof."
"Thanks. See you then, if not sooner."
While Sam worked, he thought about Mike, Fi, and Jesse checking out the leads he got from Paxson, and finding more leads through them. He used his restless energy on the house, but in the back of his mind, he wished he were with them, working as part of the team. It felt as if he was shirking his duty to his friends, but if he said so, he knew they would only insist that he was doing what he should. He was too close to the investigation as it was. Still, he couldn't ease his mind.
After dark, Sam lay awake listening to Yvette's even breathing. He'd been restless all night, and now the clock on the night stand glowed 3:30. This was getting him nowhere. Carefully, he slipped out of bed. She moaned and mumbled something in her sleep and reached out for his side of the bed. He quickly grasped her hand.
"It's okay, Eve, just go back to sleep. I'll be right back." He kissed her palm and released her hand slowly as he backed away from the bed.
She mumbled something else and turned on her side away from him. Now was his chance. He got up, grabbed his clothes from the back of a desk chair, and silently went to the kitchen. He dressed in the dark, trying to see out the windows, but the garage, the alley and their own garage were in the way of his line of sight. He would have to go outside and approach the house to see if anything was amiss.
Sam tried to always be prepared. He carried his favorite handgun with him, fully loaded, ready to shoot if necessary. Under the street lights and the spill from the big city lights, he was able to see quite well as he moved stealthily down the sidewalk toward his house, keeping to the shadows. He reached his garage and saw the car parked at the curb. It was the car the cops believed was Raul's, the same one that Yvette saw hanging around the construction site. He snuck into the dark space between the garage and the property fence, moved around behind the garage, and peered out into the yard.
There were two people there, both female. One of them Sam recognized as Angela, but he didn't know the other one. They spoke Spanish to each other, and from where he stood, he had trouble making out the words. But he could fill in the missing pieces and see that Angela held a bottle with a rag sticking out of the top. She was trying to light it, but it didn't seem to want to catch fire. Her friend snapped at her, tried lighting it herself, and gave up after a few tries. Then she threw up her hands and walked back to the car.
Angela was determined to light it up, and he had no doubt where she wanted it to land. After all the work already done, there was no way he would let her complete her sick mission. The rag finally blazed to life. In the orange glow he saw the wide grin on her face, long shadows casting up from her cheekbones, making her eyes look like black holes. She pulled her arm back, preparing to toss the firebomb into the back window.
No way, Angie. You're not taking my house as long as I have something to say about it! He ran from the shadows behind the garage, stepped on a short stack of lumber, and launched himself into the air. He landed and tackled her before she could lob it. Angela fell face first to the ground and the bottle rolled in the grass, the dew helping to put out the fire. Angela screamed and cursed at him in Spanish and kneed him in the stomach as she writhed around in his grip. She was a handful, and the way she squirmed made it hard for him to find a position to pin her.
"Estella! Help me," she said in Spanish.
Sam really didn't want to do it, but the woman was out of control. The only way to subdue her was to give her a good left to the jaw. Her head snapped back and she fell limp in the grass. Worried that he hit her too well, he checked her pulse. She was still alive. He let out a relieved breath and reached into his back pocket for a pair of cuffs. He had one on her wrist, and suddenly, he registered the worst headache he'd ever had, followed shortly by everything going dark.