The Door Into Summer
Chapter 25"Bonjour, Stuart. I thought you were going to Rialto this morning."
"Bonjour, Suzanne. I was . . . I am. Going to Rialto, that is. I left something here I was sure was in my briefcase, so I had to stop by. Is Jeff in yet?"
"No, not yet. Shall I leave a message for him?"
Stu shook his head before going into his office to retrieve the missing document. "No, just tell him I'll be back sometime later today. And you have a good day." On his way out he gave her his best attempt at a smile. "Au revoir."
"Drive carefully. Au revoir."
He hurried back out to his car, at least as much as he could hurry, and got behind the wheel. It was a beautiful day, and he was glad he'd taken off yesterday afternoon. After three hours of walking around in magnificent gardens he felt much less anxious. He was hopeful this feeling would last. Be safe, Jeff, he thought to himself.
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Tony observed the bright red T-bird from a safe distance. It made a left turn when it exited the parking lot, and he watched the car until it was out of sight. Now all he had to do was wait for Spencer to show up, and he could set his idea in motion. He'd thought about this one over and over, planning it down to the tiniest detail. He wouldn't bungle this attempt.
Daggett sat on the hill overlooking Dino's parking lot, smoking one cigarette after another. It was almost forty-five minutes before Spencer's car made its normal turn into the parking lot and the tall, lanky private investigator got out. Once he was safely inside, Daggett stubbed out his cigarette, started the car engine, and headed back to the apartment. He had everything he needed to get by in the trunk, and after he executed his plan to get rid of Spencer he could take care of the girl. There would be no further need to return to the apartment. Ever.
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"Good morning, Suzanne. Heard anything from Stu this morning?" Jeff asked brightly once he'd gotten in the front door.
"As a matter of fact, he was here about an hour ago. He picked something up from his office and left again. He wanted me to tell you he'd be back later today."
"How did he seem?"
"Like he was in a much better mood than yesterday. He almost managed a smile."
Jeff laughed. "That is an improvement. Let's hope he stays that way. You know where I'll be if you need me for anything," and he headed for his office.
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Daggett waited almost another hour before he pulled back into the parking lot of his apartment. Once he got inside he attempted to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to give Rachel any more warning than he had to. He found her napping on the couch and shook her shoulder as gently as he could. "Rachel, Rachel wake up. It's time to perform for Daddy."
She heard the words and they scared her to death. She was all too afraid that she knew exactly what he meant and she sat up wide-eyed. "Perform? Perform what?"
"You're going to help me get my revenge."
"Ho – ho – how?"
"You're going to be the bait in my trap." And he explained to her as explicitly as he could exactly what he wanted from her.
Rachel blew out a breath. She should have run . . . she should have gotten away from him as fast as she could – but she didn't. And now she was going to pay the price in his twisted plan for revenge. "You don't have a brother that got sent to jail, do you? You don't have a brother at all. It was you that got sent to prison, and I'll bet you deserved it."
Daggett laughed as he answered her. "I did have a brother, once upon a time. But I haven't seen him in, oh, twenty years. And yeah, it was me that went to prison. You're gonna help me exact a little well-deserved revenge for sending me there."
"No, I won't do it." Rachel had no idea where she'd gotten the courage to tell him no, but she sat on the couch, defiantly waiting to see what his next move was. It didn't take long.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Rachel. The choice is yours. Now, pick up the phone."
"Go to hell," she snapped back.
"Honey, there ain't no doubt that's where I'm goin'. I just want to take Bailey, Spencer and Gilmore with me. Pick up the phone." She wasn't going to make this easy for him, was she?
Rachel sat and waited to see what he was going to do to her. Slowly he pulled a gun out of his jacket and aimed it at her head. "Pick up the damn phone!"
She had one more trick up her sleeve. "You can't kill me. You need me."
"You're right, I can't kill you. But I can do this," and he shot her in the left foot. Rachel screamed and tried to grab her foot, but Tony prevented her. "There's lots of places I can shoot you that won't kill you. But it will sure as hell cause you a lot of pain before I get done. Now, are you gonna pick up the phone?"
Rachel whimpered and picked up the phone. She was all out of moves. There was no doubt in her mind he would shoot her again if she didn't.
"Dial Olympia 61656, and ask for Jeff Spencer. You hear me? Jeff Spencer. When you get him, you start crying and say what I told you. Or I'll shoot someplace else and it'll be a lot more painful this time."
She didn't need to be told twice. The tears started coming as soon as she dialed the number. "Bailey and Spencer, Private Investigators," a lovely French voice answered.
"I need," Rachel sobbed, "I need to talk to Jeff Spencer. This is Rachel Ames."
It only took a few seconds before a man answered. "This is Spencer. Is this Rachel?"
"Y – y – yes," she choked out in between sobs. "Help me . . . please help me. Tony Daggett's got me in his apartment and he's . . . he's threatened to kill me. Please come get me, Mr. Spencer, please." And she started crying even harder.
"Rachel. Rachel, where are you?" There was genuine concern in the voice. She desperately wanted to warn him, but the gun was now up against her head, and she had no doubt the psychopath she'd been living with for weeks would pull the trigger if necessary.
"8412 Sand and Surf Drive. It's off Pacific Coast Highway. Apartment 14. Please hurry. He'll be back any second." Daggett disconnected the call before she could say anything further.
"Well, see what you can do when I ask nice?" And Daggett pulled the gun away from her head.
"Are you going to kill me now?" Rachel choked out, waiting to hear the word 'yes.'
Tony laughed, an evil sound if she'd ever heard one. "Not yet, baby. I need you to do one more thing for me."
Surely Jeff wouldn't come by himself! "Won't he bring help?" she asked cautiously
Daggett laughed as if she'd just said the funniest thing in the world. "Who's he gonna bring? Bailey's out in Rialtoand the cop's still in the hospital."
"There must be someone he can call."
He just shook his head. "Nope. Little Jeff Spencer heard the fear and panic in your voice. He won't take the time to think of anybody."
"What about Kookie?" Rachel persisted.
"Parking cars for a private breakfast at Dino's. He won't have time to even breathe much less go off with Spencer. Nope, the private dick's comin' all alone." Tony sat down to wait. It would take Spencer about an hour to get there under the best of circumstances. By that time he'd have Rachel trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey and he'd be in place for the grand finale.
Thirty minutes later he'd tied the girl and put a gag in her mouth, leaving the door open just wide enough that Spencer would be able to see and hear her from outside. Then he slipped out of the apartment and went to hide in his car until . . . until his target appeared. He didn't have as long to wait as he expected.
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Jeff grabbed his shoulder holster and slid into it, putting his coat back on as he ran for the door. "8412 Sand and Surf Drive," he called to Suzanne as he ran out the door. Because of the shindig at Dino's, Kookie had moved the convertible out front this morning, making it easy for Jeff to get to. He jumped in and took off down Sunset Boulevard, breaking every speed limit and running every red light he came across. Rachel had sounded close to hysterical and in imminent danger from Daggett. When he finally hit a light he couldn't run he pulled his gun and checked to make sure it was fully loaded. There was no such thing as too many bullets when it came to Daggett.
He made good time and found the address with a minimum of trouble. He was thinking more clearly by that time and exited the convertible cautiously. Everything was peaceful and quiet, the way you'd expect it to be on a Thursday morning. Apartment 14 could be seen from the resident parking; it was all the way on the end of the building. There were several large objects Jeff could take shelter behind as he approached the apartment, and he took his time getting around the trash cans and rows of storage lockers. He was only ten or fifteen feet away from the front of the building when he heard what sounded like moaning from inside; it was easy to see the girl lying on the floor through the partially open door. "Rachel," Jeff called softly, and she tried to say something but it was impossible to understand her through the gag.
Jeff took a step away from his protection, then another, followed by a third, until he was almost at the front door. He eased his way along the building wall until he reached in to push the door open. That's when they hit, like a swarm of angry bees – angry bees that felt suspiciously like bullets. They tore through him, one after the other, until he went down under their relentless assault. Daggett waited a minute or two, watching to make sure there was no movement from the man lying on the ground, and then he hurried to the front door. There was no doubt in his mind that Spencer was dead . . . Daggett always had been a good shot. He was about to put one last bullet in the dick's head when he saw the girl wiggling around and decided she needed the bullet more. He fired one shot and she laid still.
In the distance Tony heard the sound of wailing sirens. Damn, somebody had called the cops. That sound was the only reason he was unable to stay and wait until he was sure the bullet-riddled body bled out onto the sidewalk. He was deprived of that simple pleasure, so Daggett gathered himself up and hurried to his car. As soon as he had it started he slipped out the back of the parking lot and sped away, leaving what appeared to be two lifeless bodies in his wake.