Dave Zeltserman - Bad Karma

The next couple of days dragged by slowly for him. He tried reading the PI novels Maguire had left him, and while he agreed with Maguire’s assessment of them, there was something nagging at the back of his mind that kept him from fully appreciating them. Susan sensed something was bothering him, just as he could sense her sadness over Les Hasherford’s death. They tried to comfort each other, but there was a small hole in both of them that they couldn’t quite fix.

Eric Wilson called him Thursday afternoon from Wichita to tell him that French officials had spoken with Linda’s younger sister, Gloria, and that Fred Gibson had been arrested earlier that day for child abuse and rape. Wilson seemed relieved when Shannon was able to tell him that an arrest was pending for Linda Gibson’s murder. “Do you think they have the right guy?” Wilson asked. “I hope so,” Shannon said, but his words sounded hollow to him.

Kathleen Tirroza called him that same night. She’d heard through the FBI grapevine what had happened and wanted to make sure he was okay. “Once again, right in the middle of it. Damn, you’ve got more lives than a cat!” she said, sounding a bit drunk. Her comment brought an involuntary smile to his lips since Kathleen, with her almond-shaped eyes and slender athletic body, always reminded him of a cat. “Yeah, but I think they’re being used up,” he told her. “And I keep leaving little pieces of me behind with each one.” That sobered her up. She asked him to save one of his lives for September 27th so he could drink a toast at her wedding. Before hanging up, she mentioned that she had no luck identifying his Russian. “If his records exist, they’ve been moved to classified files I don’t have access to.”

Friday morning he met Eli at Juiced Up . His shoulder felt well enough for him to walk the five blocks from his apartment without too much discomfort. When he sat down across from his friend, Eli gave him a quick look and mentioned how it would be understandable if he were suffering from depression after what he had gone through.

“I’d have to think seeing Susan tied up like that would’ve flashed you back to Charlie Winters. And you were almost killed. That’s got to be a tough thing to come to grips with.” He hesitated, then added, “Bill, even though it was in self-defense, you still killed two men. Maybe you should consider counseling?”

“About killing those two thugs, I’d feel worse right now if it had been two rats. The world’s better off without them, and I’m fine with what I did. As for Susan, yeah, it affected me seeing her like that, but I can deal with it. I know she’s safe now, and I know that I can get past my anxiety about her being harmed.”

“What is it then?”

Shannon shrugged. “It doesn’t add up that Paveeth was involved in killing those two students,” he said. “And I can’t figure out a way to make it add up. He knew about the hidden video camera. He wouldn’t have left that tape behind-not with the chance of it showing one of his cult members performing on it. I can’t imagine him leaving thirteen thousand dollars behind either.”

“Maybe he didn’t know about the money hidden in the other speaker,” Eli said.

“He’d know something was hidden in it. No, I just can’t see this. Whoever went to the apartment-him or the Russians, they would’ve cleaned out what was in those two speaker cases.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Paveeth’s going to get the death penalty for those three snuff films regardless of whether he gets convicted of killing Carver and Linda Gibson. I could just let it rest.”

“You could. But then whoever killed those two students would get a free pass.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t feel that bad about Carver.”

“But what about the other one?”

A weariness set in around Shannon’s eyes. He shrugged weakly. “I guess I’m going to have to start over from square one and see what I’ve missed.”

Later that afternoon Shannon had a fight with Susan about driving by himself. She was absolutely furious with him.

“How can you do that, Bill? How are you going to control the wheel with one hand? And what if your stitches rip open? Why don’t you let me drive you?”

“I can’t. Not where I’m going. Susie, everything’s going to be fine. We’re both on edge right now, that’s all.”

She stood staring at him, her mouth moving as if she were chewing gum. “Do what you want,” she said at last. “I already had to think once this week about going to your funeral. I can’t deal with that again. If you make me, that’s it, we’re through.”

She left the room. Shannon stood frozen for several long minutes, then took his car keys and headed out to Loveland.

Both Randall Carver and Buttercup were waiting outside the house for him. Buttercup was on her back with her legs in the air while Randall scratched her belly with the toe of his boot. When Shannon pulled up, Buttercup stayed frozen in her position for a few moments, then sniffed in the air, sneezed and flipped herself onto her feet. She stared at Shannon through yellow eyes, but didn’t make a sound. Randall walked over to his car.

“I don’t know why you want to see me,” he complained.

“How about getting in the car and I’ll tell you.”

He eyed Shannon suspiciously and asked him what happened to his shoulder.

“I was shot. Come on, get in.”

Randall hesitated for a moment, but got into the passenger seat. “Ma’s furious with you,” he said. “The police came yesterday. She knows you don’t work for no People magazine. So who do you work for, that guy we’re suing?”

“It doesn’t matter. Your lawsuit’s dead. Why’d you lie to me before, Randall?”

He stared blankly at Shannon while he made sense of his question, then gave a screw-you look and reached for the passenger door handle. “Fuck this and fuck your questions. I don’t have to answer to you. I’m leaving.”

“That’s fine. Leave if you want. It means I’ll talk to the police instead. But you did lie to me. About how often you saw Taylor. And about the porn films you made with your brother.”

He sat back in his seat. “I never made one of those,” he said stubbornly.

“Come on, Randall, I saw them. The ones you made with Linda and those girls from the cult.”

There was no reaction. Nothing but confusion in Randall’s face. Shannon sighed. “You’re going to tell me you didn’t know he was filming you with those girls?”

Randall shook his head slowly. “I didn’t know nothing about it.” He broke into an ugly smile revealing badly receding gums. “You got one of them? It’d be cool to see it.”

Shannon gave him a hard look and decided he really didn’t know about the films. “Why’d you lie to me about the last time you saw your brother?”

Carver’s expression turned sullen. “I couldn’t tell you in front of Ma. She’d want to know what I went there for.” When he saw Shannon’s reaction, a light turned on in his dull eyes realizing what Shannon had been fishing for. “Man, that is so lame,” he said. “You thought I killed Taylor ’cause I found out he was filming me? If that’s what they teach you at Private Eye school you got punked. With the nice-looking hoes Taylor got for me, he could’ve filmed me all he wanted. You think I care?”

Randall showed Shannon a big toothy smirk, got out of the car and laughed softly as he walked back to his house. Even Buttercup stared at Shannon with a look that could only be described as pity.

For the next fifteen minutes Shannon thought about giving up. It would be so damn easy. He certainly wouldn’t lose any sleep over Anil Paveeth being wrongly convicted of those murders. But the problem was he kept thinking of Linda Gibson, thinking about everything she had gone through, how she was basically used and disposed of like trash. As much as he wanted to just go home to Susan and give the case up, he knew he couldn’t. Instead he went back to the scene of the crime hoping to find some inspiration there.