Murder in the Clear Zone Read online

  So that’s what’s stuck in Cory’s craw, Bard thought. Paula had turned the Romeo down. Twice.

  Paula met Bard’s gaze. “I suppose you don’t like hearing what a bastard your friend is,” she said softly.

  “I don’t like it, but it explains a lot.” Bard understood now why Paula had so much trouble trusting. Frank, Dan, and Cory had all abused her trust. Secretly going undercover abused her trust big time and he’d added another level of dishonesty by doubting her. Her story was so unbelievable. Yet that was exactly why he believed her. That and the fact he was hopelessly in love. Still, the unknowns gnawed at him.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  With their conversation about who murdered her husband still churning in his head, Bard left Paula in her new home in Yucaipa. He shoved aside speculations about who had murdered her spouse. Speculating was useless. And he had a more pressing concern. Find a way to infiltrate a cold-blooded and very deadly theft ring.

  He drove slowly through the clear zone housing area heading for Dell Avenue unable to turn off thoughts of Paula. She hadn’t been fooled when he backed into Cory’s car at the cemetery. It had been an act of desperation. He regretted like hell every time he tried to deceive her, but some of the bikers were part of the looting ring, and he didn’t want to mess up his chances by chasing them. Most of them knew him, or at least knew about him, but none would expect a relocation agent to go undercover. They would regard him as a harmless pencil-pusher. His Clark Kent image gave him an edge. Too bad he wasn’t Superman. It was a good sign that Paula recognized the voice of one of the bikers. It meant he was on the right track. Thank God she finally agreed to leave the investigation up to him.

  He had to find Lopez and convince him he had something to offer. He laughed. Sounded easy enough. But experience had taught him that nothing was that easy. Oh, right, there was also the little matter of uncovering Charlie’s killer and staying alive. On the positive side, with Paula moved out of the clear zone to safety, she wouldn’t have to know anything about the undercover assignment until it was over. Then he’d tell her everything.

  If she could forgive Charlie for keeping things from her, wouldn’t she forgive him too, especially now that she loved him? He was counting on it.

  His throat tightened. What if he was wrong about that? Damn. He couldn’t let doubts mess with his mind. To stay alive, it was imperative that he concentrate solely on pulling off this ruse. He wished he could count on local back up in case things went sour, but Reed had warned him to keep his undercover job just between the two of them. That meant he couldn’t ask Cory for help. As angry as he got at Cory for dogging Paula, the man knew the criminal mind and had thick files on repeat offenders.

  Bard turned the corner and swore when he spied Mabel Green’s house The fencing and air-conditioning were gone. The looters hadn’t slowed up a bit. If anything, they were more brazen. They hadn’t even waited for her to move. Poor Mabel. She’d be shocked when she got home from work. He’d better call and warn her. Using his cellular, he notified Mabel and the police. He knew it would take Mabel at least fifteen minutes to get there and, if they were lucky, the police might get there in about forty-five minutes. There was no point in sitting there waiting for them; the damage was done. He had to stay focused and track down Lopez. He drove another block and turned again. Going to the biker place where Deeter lived, before someone put a bullet between his eyes, had a chilling feel to it. But this den of devils was his only lead.

  He took a deep breath as he pulled up in front of the apartment. The Omni rocked when he got out and slammed the door. “The success of this gig is up to you,” he told himself. “Trust your instincts. And don’t slip up.” If he did, someone else might die. Maybe him. And Paula might end up in jail.

  Bard knocked on the door and Deeter’s biker friend, the 300-pound hairy ape, answered. He had a two-day beard and wore a black T-shirt and grease-smeared Levi’s. A hand-rolled cigarette dangled from his thick lips. He clamped a meaty hand on the edge of the door, exposing a bulging forearm and the tattoo, Harley Hoods.

  The sweet odor of pot drifted from the biker’s cigarette. Inside a wrestling match blared on the television. Male voices let out sporadic barrages of obscenities. Coming here alone and unarmed was insane. But there was no turning back now. “I need to find Lopez,” Bard said in his deepest, most macho voice.

  “This ain’t no missing person bureau, man,” the biker drawled. He started to close the door in Bard’s face then he paused and squinted past the curling smoke. “Hey, I remember you. You’re that relocation guy who came here looking for Deeter a while back.”

  “Right. He was setting up a meeting with Lopez for me when someone iced his jets.”

  “Yeah? And why would he do that?” The biker’s puffy gray eyes narrowed to slits.

  “We had a deal.”

  “Details, man, details” The biker’s huge hand curled into a fist, and he shook it into Bard’s face. “Spill it, or get the hell outta here!”

  When the biker started to close the door, Bard stopped it with his foot. “Wait, Man! I’m in trouble. Deeter told me Lopez could line me up with a job to pick up some fast cash.”

  “Yeah?” The biker tilted his head and took a hit on his joint. “What’d ya plan to do for this cash, kill someone?”

  Bard met the big ape’s menacing look with steady, calm eyes, while his heart thundered in his ears. “With the kind of trouble I’m in, I’m not that choosy. Look, can you hook me up with Lopez or not?”

  The biker palmed his roach and looked Bard over slowly from head to toe. “If you ain’t on the level, man, better have paid up burial insurance.”

  “Lopez! Relocation dude’s here to see you.” The biker’s laugh scraped like a razor down Bard’s spine as the burly intimadator left him to wait at the half opened door.

  Seconds inched into minutes. No one came. The wrestling match still blared on the TV, but the voices inside had quieted. Bard shifted his weight from one foot to another. Sweat trickled from his forehead and ran down the sides of his face.

  He wiped away the moisture with his handkerchief, and pounded on the open door, “Hey!” No answer.

  Bard looked at his watch. Five minutes had passed. The biker was toying with him. Maybe the bastard didn’t know Lopez. Bard turned to leave.

  “Wanta talk to me, no?” called a voice with a slurring Spanish accent.

  Bard spun around and faced a dark-skin, wiry man wearing a red bandanna around his forehead and a diamond stud in his ear. “You Lopez?”

  “Maybe. Depends what you want.” He rested against the door jamb and stuck a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

  “What took you so long?” Bard growled.

  Lopez squinted as he touched a flame to his cigarette. In spite of the deep lines at the corners of his eyes, Bard figured he was only in his mid-thirties.

  “Had to call my boss to get the okay,” Lopez said. “So whatdaya want? I don’t have all day.” He caressed the Elk horn handle of the knife at his belt. His dark eyes, as mean as a junk yard Doberman’s didn’t waver.

  Mutual edginess electrified the humid air. Bard cleared his throat. “For a price, I can make things easier for you and your boss.”

  Lopez took a long drag on his cigarette. “Easier, how?”

  “I can triple your take with less risk by showing you how to strip the places without all that damage to the stolen goods. Sound interesting?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I control the paperwork on the project, and can provide advance move-out time tables.”

  “Maybe we already have access to that information.” A tendon jerked in Lopez’s jaw. “Anyway, why would a paper-pushing nerd like you risk your job to do that?”

  “Let’s just say my pay envelope’s too thin for a big time gambler like me.”

  Interest and greed glistened in Lopez’s eyes. “I’m still listening.”

  “I’ll lay it out after we settle on my cut.”
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br />   “The boss decides the divvy.”

  “Janus, right?”

  Lopez’s pupils dilated slightly, then shrunk to pinpoints. When the Latino failed to admit his boss’ name was Janus, Bard tried another approach. “When do I meet him?”

  Lopez’s left eye twitched. “I’ll let you know.”

  “Look, my bookie needs five G notes by tomorrow afternoon. Can you set up something for tonight? I’m not into broken bones. I’m a slow healer.”

  “You deaf, man? I said I’d let you know.”

  “I’m up against it, Lopez. It’s either you or—”

  “I’ll call you at your office around five.”

  Bard offered Lopez a card with his number on it. Lopez shoved it away. “We have your number.” The venom in his voice left no doubt about the double meaning.

  “Later, then, man.” Sweat soaked through Bard’s shirt and trickled down his spine. He turned, squared his shoulders, and headed for his Omni with a forced swagger. He exhaled, unaware that he’d been holding his breath. With scum like Lopez in the neighborhood, it was a relief to know that Paula was safely in Yucaipa, miles away from the danger.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Alone with only her parrot, Paula turned up the Latin music and did a few cha-cha steps to express her delight with the smooth way Bard had handled her move yesterday. She stood back and admired the arrangement of the den furniture. Bard had done a great job. Like Charlie, Bard had tried to make a game out of work and made the move almost painless. Between him and the movers, she’d had little to worry about except getting the birds settled into their new aviaries.

  She glanced up when Ivanhoe alighted on her shoulder. “What do you think, Iv? Looks fantastic, huh?”

  Ivanhoe made a clicking sound with his beak. She smiled at him and studied Bard’s handiwork. It hadn’t occurred to her to remove two shelves of the center section of the bookcase to make room for her television, but Bard had thought of it. He was resourceful like Charlie. She’d never considered that they might be alike. They certainly came from different backgrounds, but every day she saw more similarities.

  She shook her head at the two opposing emotions going on inside her head. She was happy because Bard had stepped solidly into her corner and sad over losing Charlie. She guessed her struggle in her early years to stay above the emptiness and turmoil each time she was shifted from one foster home to another had taught her to grab the joy whenever she could. Bard was the source of that joy.

  Paula blew up at a wayward curl. Trying to analyze and justify her happiness wasn’t getting the place organized. But she’d already accomplished a lot. “Now all I have to do is empty these cartons,” she told Ivanhoe. In response, the parrot started to bite gently on her neck in the same annoying way Dan used to when he was trying to tease her out of being angry.

  “Hey, stop it, Iv. That’s spooky. Sometimes I think Dan’s soul got reincarnated into you,” Paula said as she put the parrot back into his cage.

  Ivanhoe fluffed his glossy gray plumage, spreading his red tail slightly. “Stop it,” he repeated.

  She shook her head. “You’re even bossy like Dan.”

  Even though she’d long ago forgiven her husband for the heartache he’d caused her, it didn’t change the fact that she’d made a big mistake marrying him. Still, with all Dan’s faults, she knew Charlie had been wrong about him murdering anyone. Dan didn’t have a killer’s heart. Grandma Emma had to have died of natural causes. Paula sighed. She’d never know, so no use fretting about it. That part of her life was in the past.

  She had a real man in her life now, a steady guy she could trust completely. Bard was disarming and definitely more sexy than any man she had ever known. As far as she could tell, his only fault was his unwavering stubbornness. He wanted her moved. And hadn’t given up until he’d accomplished his goal. A man with that kind of determination could be counted on to help her get a line on Charlie’s killer. Together they’d put him behind bars.

  “That’ll get Cory off my back, Iv,” she said, glancing at her parrot hanging upside down in his cage by his strong black beak and a claw-like toe.

  “Cory!” Ivanhoe squawked.

  Paula stiffened. “How come you said that?” Iv usually had to hear a name many times before repeating it. Had Dan taught it to him? Cory was Dan’s friend and Cory had spent more time in their home than she would have liked, so it was possible.

  Paula flinched at the telephone’s shrill ring. It was Nancy Whitney, Gary’s mom. Without preliminaries, she said, “I know inviting you only an hour and a half before a party is rude, but I misplaced the slip of paper that you’d written your new number on.”

  “Party?” A party was the last thing Paula wanted.

  “Gary’s birthday,” Nancy said.

  “I told him you’d be busy with your move, but—”

  “Nothing could keep me away.” Exhausted or not, she couldn’t miss this important celebration for such a great kid. Paula took a deep breath, drawing extra oxygen into her lungs. “I was looking for an excuse to take a break from the work around here anyway.”

  “Oh, bless you. Since the shooting, Gary has been sleeping most of the time. But when the doctor reduced his medication yesterday, it made a big difference. He’s raring to go now.” Nancy paused. “He insisted upon only two things for the party, a cake and you.”

  Paula smiled. “He’s such a sweetie.” Gary was like a younger brother. It gave further proof that people didn’t have to be born in the same household to share a special kind of bond.

  “There’ll be just you, the family and Bard,” Nancy said.

  “Bard?” Paula’s heart pounded wildly. It was odd how hearing his name could send it into a frenzy.

  “Well, I tried to invite him,” Nancy said, “but the Relocation Office secretary said he’d be out until tomorrow morning. I thought he might contact you. He’s been so thoughtful during Gary’s convalescence, sending flowers, calling frequently.”

  “My move yesterday put him behind in his other work. I probably won’t hear from him until later tonight. But I’ll try to reach him before I leave the house.” She glanced at the clock as she hung up the telephone. She’d have to hurry. Leaving the rest of the unpacked boxes, she dashed next door to ask her new neighbor’s college-age son, Jeff, to come over and bird sit. Earlier that morning when they met, he’d mention that he was available for part-time work She’d bet he hadn’t expected to get a job from her so soon. After all that had happened, she couldn’t leave the birds unattended, even for a few hours. They might be fine in this new location, but it would be a while before she could feel totally safe anywhere.

  Paula studied Jeff as they walked across the wide side lawn toward her house. He was dark-haired, huskier and several years older than Gary. She hoped he was as good with her birds as Gary had been. She laughed to herself. The large mole on his right cheek shaped like a robin’s egg had to be a good sign.

  “You do like birds, don’t you?” she asked when they stood in the center of her living room.

  “Yeah, I dig them. My last boss sent me to a class in aviculture. It was pretty cool.”

  She relaxed somewhat. “There isn’t that much to do. I already fed and watered the birds. The main thing is to have someone here in case of trouble.”

  Jeff’s eyes darkened. “Trouble?”

  “I don’t expect any problems, but if anyone comes on the property, call the police, then contact me at this number.” She handed him a slip of paper with Gary’s number on it.

  The frown on Jeff’s face faded when he saw Ivanhoe. “Hey, you have a parrot. An African Grey, right?”

  “That’s right,” she said, smiling. “You know something about parrots?”

  “They’re smart. Big brains, biggest in the bird family, and they’re great imitators. They had one at the pet store where I worked last summer. He was a riot.”

  “Iv is, too. But until you know him better it’s best to touch him through the bars.�
�� Paula glanced at the clock. “I don’t have much time. Make yourself at home,” she said as she headed down the hall.

  She heard Jeff talking gently to Iv for several minutes then the TV came on. When she heard Jeff ask Iv if he liked the MTV station, she smiled. The guy liked her parrot, treated him like a person. Good. Iv and the rest of her birds would be in good hands while she was away.

  After hurrying to shower and dress, she belted her lightweight white slacks outfit with a wide gold belt and slipped on gold pumps. Too dressy. She kicked off the shoes, snatched off the belt, and put on a denim one and matching tennies. Better, she thought.

  A foreboding made her pause before leaving her box-strewn bedroom. Going back to the clear zone alone at seven in the evening was probably safe enough. It would still be light. But she’d be at Gary’s house until at least nine. It would be dark by then. She opened her nightstand drawer and removed her loaded .38, quickly dropping it into her purse.

  She had very little time to pick up a gift and still make it all the way to San Bernardino by seven. Paula was amazed, with all that had been going on, that she’d actually remembered the name of the video Gary wanted. She grabbed some iridescent birthday paper with basketballs printed all over it and a ribbon as she raced down the aisle.

  Somehow, she made it to the party with minutes to spare. After quickly wrapping the present in the car, she went inside.

  After catching her breath, Paula tried to telephone Bard, but no one answered, not even his machine. She sighed in disappointment.

  Nancy had baked a homemade fudge cake and decorated it with a scene of a teenager playing basketball. After the gift opening and “Happy Birthday” sing along, Paula and Gary took their dessert to the den. The cake was probably delicious, but Paula barely tasted it. Her mind stayed on Bard.

  While watching Gary’s new Lakers’s video, her mind drifted to what had happened two nights ago—the night the Earth moved, and she completely lost her heart to Bard. When the video was over, she realized that watching it wasn’t an accurate description of what she’d been doing. She hadn’t really seen much of it. Instead she’d conjured up images of Bard’s face, the passion in his green eyes as he made love to her under the cascading warm shower. Except in this version they were deep in an enchanted forest, beneath a steamy waterfall with Bard whispering, “Look at me, Paula, look at me,” as he entered her again and again. Faster and faster until she was liquid fire and begging him not to stop.