“ Sure,” J.P. whispered back. A few seconds later J.P. opened the connecting door with a smile on his face a block wide.
“ Good work, J.P. You did good.”
“ What are we gonna do now?”
“ We’re going to move next door,” Rick said.
“ Why?”
“ Just a precaution. If someone comes looking for us, we won’t be here.”
“ You think the Ragged Man’s gonna come?”
“ No. I’m just being careful.”
“ I think the man who killed my dad is him.”
“ You mean the Ragged Man?”
“ Yeah, him.”
“ It’s just a story, J.P. Now come on.”
Before entering the adjoining room, Rick went into the bath, took the clean towels off the rack and splashed water on them, before throwing them on the floor. Then he pulled down the bed covers on both beds and rumpled them to make it look as if they had been slept in.
“ This way it’ll look like we’ve been and gone.”
Then the two of them, J.P. carrying the birdcage, entered their new room and Rick closed both doors.
“ Okay, J.P., we have to leave the lights out, no TV, no talking.”
“ I understand. We’re hiding, right?”
“ Right.”
They found their respective beds in the dark. They didn’t undress. They lay on top of the covers, each lost in his own thoughts, staring at the dark ceiling.
J.P. thought about the big man and his steel gray stare. Then he thought about the Ghost Dog and he started to shiver. His shivering increased when he heard the rapping on the door of the room they had just vacated. He looked at Rick and saw that he held his index finger to his lips, telling him to be silent. He didn’t need to be told, he knew who was next door.
“ Police. Open up,” they heard. Then they heard a key being inserted and a door opening. J.P. got up and moved over to Rick’s bed and sat next to him.
“ It’s okay,” Rick whispered. “They don’t know we’re here. They’ll go away in a few minutes.” It wasn’t necessary to listen at the door, the paper thin walls offered no barrier against sound.
“ I don’t understand, they’re not here.” J.P. recognized the motel clerk’s voice.
“ Did they have any luggage?” a fast-talking voice asked.
“ The boy had a bird in a wire cage.”
“ That’s them,” a deep voice said.
“ They only checked in two hours ago, it doesn’t make any sense, them leaving like this,” Deep Voice said.
“ The bathroom’s been used, the beds have been used, and the key is on the bureau. It looks like they just wanted a place to shower and rest awhile,” Fast-Talker said.
“ I didn’t see them leave,” the clerk said.
“ Were you on the front desk the whole time since they checked in?” Fast-Talker said.
“ Most of the time. I went across to the mini market for cigarettes about half an hour ago.”
“ Then if they left while you were across the street, you would have missed them?” Fast-Talker said.
“ I guess so.”
“ Thanks for your help.”
“ Do you think they’ll be back?” the clerk asked.
“ No,” Fast-Talker said, “I don’t, and you can go.” J.P. heard the clerk leave the room.
“ Okay, Mr. Storm, we tried,” Fast-Talker said. “It looks like they flew the coup. Now, you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“ I told them when I called the station.”
“ Humor me.”
“ I’m a private investigator working for the RIAA. I was staking out the Page house, hoping Gordon would show. When he did, I decided to wait till morning and see if he would lead me to a warehouse full of bootlegs. I wanted to bust him real dirty.”
“ Did you know he was wanted for murder?” Fast-Talker said.
“ No, I didn’t,” Storm said.
“ What happened next?”
“ He came running out of there like a striped-ass ape, dragging the kid, and came straight here. It looked like they were here for the night, so I went back to the house to see if I could get the Page lady to tell me anything.”
“ Did you think she would?”
“ I didn’t know, but nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Storm said.
“ And that’s when you found the house all torn up?”
“ Not exactly. I knocked on the door and when I didn’t get any answer, I went next door and woke the neighbors and got lucky. The neighbor lady had a key. She said she watches the house when the Pages are away.”
“ So the neighbor let you in?” Fast-Talker said.
“ She came over with me. I waited outside while she checked the house.”
“ And you didn’t go in with her?”
“ I’m a private investigator. I got a license to protect. I don’t go into anyone’s home unless I’m invited.”
“ So the neighbor went in?”
“ And came out a few seconds later, screaming her head off. I didn’t have any choice, I went in, saw the house and dialed 911. You know the rest.”
“ Do you have any idea where Gordon will go next?”
“ He’ll go to Tampico.”
“ How can you be so sure?” Fast-Talker said.
“ One, he has a house there, and two, he’s sweet on the boy’s mother.”
“ Do you think he’ll harm the boy?”
“ I don’t know, but he has every reason to think he got away with what he did tonight. He’ll go to Tampico. I’m sure of it.”
“ Well, he won’t get there. If I remember right, there is only the one road into town from the Pacific Coast Highway. If that’s where he’s going, they’ll get him by morning.”
“ I hope they do,” Storm said.
“ You want to come down to the station and write out what you told me?”
“ Be glad to.”
J.P. went to the window and peeked through the curtains as the men left. “Rick,” he whispered, “come here quick. It’s the man who killed my dad.”
Rick looked out and got a clear view of the big man and the two policemen as they stood under a street lamp in the parking lot. They were too far away for him to hear what they were saying, but close enough that he recognized the big man as the man who went to get the sheriff and never returned that horrible day. The day Ann died.
However that day he hadn’t said anything about the RIAA or bootlegs or given any indication that he knew who Rick was. Rick shook his head, he couldn’t understand. Had the RIAA hired someone to kill the bootleggers? That made no sense, none at all. But there he was, the man who had killed J.P.’s father and he claimed that he worked for the RIAA.
Rick thought about calling out. He could tell the police who the killer was, that they were talking to him right now, but what if they didn’t believe him? What if they arrested him? What would happen to J.P.? He decided to wait till morning and call Sheriff Sturgees in Tampico. At least he was a police officer who would listen to him.
He kept watch as the two policemen and the killer with the deep voice got into the police car and drove off.
“ Okay, J.P., let’s smooth up the beds. We don’t want it to look like anybody’s been here.” With the boy helping, they had the beds looking like a motel maid had done the job in short order.
“ Now what are we gonna do?”
“ We’re going back to our old room. It’s the last place they’ll look for us and with unmade beds and the dirty towels, they won’t rent it again tonight.”
“ Does that mean I have to go up into the roof again?”
“ Yeah, I’m afraid it does.” Again Rick hoisted J.P. through a trapdoor into the dark attic and minutes later they were back in their original room, stretched out on their respective beds, staring at the ceiling. J.P. fell asleep first.
Rick thought about Christina. He prayed that she and the girls were safe and well. He blamed himself for what had happened tonight. If he hadn’t taken off right away for Tampico, he would have been there to meet the killer. He had abandoned her and the twins and now they were running scared, or worse, dead. It was his fault and he felt like shit. He stayed awake for another two hours, but finally closed his eyes and fell asleep at around three in the morning.