James Grippando - Last to die

He started at the sight of a cockroach staring back at him, but it scurried away in an instant. Inside the drawer was just a half-empty bag of potato chips, some loose coins, and the crumbled remnants of countless other snack foods that Javier didn’t seem to mind sharing with his six-legged friends. Theo closed the top drawer and opened the bottom one. It was cluttered with junk-a disposable camera and film, old magazines, videocassettes. But no gun.

Theo went to the dresser. The top drawer was underwear and socks, as good a place as any to store a gun. But it wasn’t there. Not in the middle or bottom drawers, either.

What the hell kind of a bodyguard has no gun?

He turned and looked at the bed. It was unmade, so he could see the slightest separation between the mattress and the box spring. It would make sense, he realized-easily accessible to a man caught unawares while sleeping. He shoved his hand into the void, then stopped as his fingers touched the cold metal. Pay dirt.

He grasped the handle and pulled out the gun, his heart thumping at the expected sight of a Smith amp; Wesson revolver with a polished nickel barrel. But it wasn’t the gun Kelsey had described. It was totally black, not even a revolver. Theo had seen enough guns to recognize it as a Glock 9mm pistol. Even Kelsey, someone completely unfamiliar with handguns, could easily distinguish between a nickel-plated revolver and a black pistol.

Of course, no one said that this was the only gun in the house.

Theo could still hear Javier talking in the kitchen. Kelsey was doing a nice job of keeping him occupied. He swept the room with his gaze and then decided to check the closet. He slid the mirrored door open, then stopped cold. He’d expected to see clothes hanging inside, but the entire closet was lined with shelves, floor to ceiling, and on each shelf was a row of videocassette cases arranged with the spine facing out. They looked identical, black plastic cases with a white label on the spine. Each label had only one word on it, and they were arranged in alphabetical order. Alicia. Amanda. Brittany. Two tapes for Caitlin. Four for Pauline. Hundreds of tapes, each with a woman’s name on it.

Theo wasn’t sure what to make of it at first, but it soon dawned on him. Jack had told him about the camera bracket that he’d found in the attic at Sally’s old apartment. He scanned the rows of videocassettes, searching for a case with the name Sally on it. But the bottom shelf ended at “P.” The second half of the alphabet must have been stored somewhere else.

The silent pager on his belt vibrated. It was the previously agreed-upon signal from Kelsey that she was running out of things to say to Javier and that their conversation would soon come to an end. He stuffed Javier’s pistol into his waistline, thinking he might need it. Then he grabbed one of the tapes at random and shoved it inside his jacket, just so that he could later test his theory. He quickly but quietly left the bedroom, hurried down the hall to the bathroom, and shut the door. He dialed Jack’s cell phone, eager to test his thinking.

“It’s me,” said Theo.

“What’s up?”

He hesitated, as if giving himself a moment to absorb his own discovery. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure of it, but why else would a guy like Javier have a closet full of videocassette tapes with the name of a different woman on each one?

“You want to give me odds?” asked Theo.

“Odds on what?” said Jack.

“I’ll take your five to my one that Sally Fenning’s stalker was able to get himself hired as her bodyguard.”

Jack kept the telephone conversation short. Theo had laid out his findings quickly, and Jack was eager to put the question to Sally’s ex-husband: Could Javier-the man who became her bodyguard-have been her stalker, the man who murdered their daughter?

Miguel sat on the edge of the couch, staring pensively into the steeple he’d formed at the bridge of his nose with his index fingers. Jack watched his expression tighten, his face grow redder.

“Are you okay?” asked Jack.

“I can’t believe it,” he said in a low, angry voice.

“It’s still just a theory for now. But we know Sally was being stalked. We know that someone was probably videotaping her from the attic over her bedroom. And now we find a stash of videotapes in her bodyguard’s closet.”

Miguel didn’t answer. He seemed to be taking it all in.

Jack continued, “It fits with the message you got on your answering machine this morning, too.”

“How do you mean?”

“He was her bodyguard. Her protector in life. The guy who left that message seems to be playing the same role. Protecting her, avenging her death.”

“Should we call the cops?”

“Not yet. Theo wants to probe a little more, see if he can get Javier to cough up the tape with Sally’s name on it. We haven’t found it yet, but-”

“And you never will,” he said.

“Why do you say that?”

“What idiot would be stupid enough to keep that tape around this long, after all that’s happened?”

“You’d be surprised. It’s like collecting trophies for some of these guys. They keep jewelry from their victims, snippets of hair, clothing, all sorts of things that a rational person would burn at the first opportunity. But that’s why I say we should let Theo press him a little more. You call the cops, I guarantee that tape will disappear.”

He shook his head slowly and said, “How could she hire that creep as her bodyguard?”

“She was fooled. She never saw her stalker. So when he came applying for a job as her bodyguard years later, she didn’t have any reason to make the connection.”

He looked down, gnawing his lower lip. “I don’t believe that for a minute. No way Sally was fooled.”

“Well, if she wasn’t fooled, then that would mean she knowingly hired the man who…”

Miguel’s eyes were smoldering. “Now you get it, don’t you? Can you imagine being so cock crazy that you cover up for the guy who murdered your own daughter?”

Jack took a half-step back. “That’s a pretty big leap you’re making. You’re saying she had a thing for her stalker?”

“I didn’t say he started out as her stalker. He became her stalker. It’s like I thought all along. The guy started stalking her after she dumped him or cooled off the relationship or something like that. I knew that bitch was seeing someone. I always knew it.”

Jack paused, perplexed by his response. “Wait a minute. The first time you and I talked, you told me the same thing you told the police in their investigation into your daughter’s murder. You said that Sally never told you or anyone else that she was being stalked until after the murder.”

“Yeah, so?”

“That seems inconsistent with what you just said-that you knew Sally was seeing someone. That you always knew it.”

Miguel narrowed his eyes, seeming to resent the way Jack was picking apart his words. “You fucking lawyers, always trying to twist things.”

“I’m just trying to reconcile your own statements, that’s all.”

“All I meant was, you know-when I said that I knew she was having an affair, I didn’t realize she was a cheater until after our daughter was murdered, after Sally claimed that she was being stalked.”

“No, that’s what you said the last time we talked. What you just said was different. You said you always knew it.”

“What do you want from me, Swyteck? You like playing these little word games? Yeah, I said always. Ever since our daughter was found dead and Sally came up with this stalker story, I always had my doubts. That’s always. I didn’t mean from the beginning of the fucking world.”

Jack thought for a second, figured maybe he had pressed too hard. “Okay, gotcha.”