Charli Page 4

went inside. Our boy was out in ten minutes and on his way again. Then he pulled up in front of another open. This time a man greeted him at the door, so I relaxed. A few minuets later, he was out again. He went into three more opens, and then on the fourth, I noticed that the real estate sign had the name of the agent and a picture. Sally Fielding and she looked very pretty. He went inside and I waited for another car to pull up, it didn’t. I waited for him to come back out in his usual time, he didn’t. Now what, I had no choice but to go in. As I did I found him just talking to her and she was very attractive. I pretended to be previewing for a client and talked real estate lingo with her.

  The Realization

  He looked at me in a strange way; I felt that he knew what I was up too. I felt like the proverbial whore in church, like the gig was up. So I pretended not to remember him, but he spoke up and said,

  “Jake, isn’t it?”

  “Why yes.” I said trying to look puzzled that he knew me… “Oh Mr. Travis, what a coincidence? Are you looking for a new home?”

  “Yes, just beginning to look.” He seemed quite annoyed, but tried not to let her see it.

  The three of us exchanged some small talk until he said,

  “Oh, look at the time, I really must be going, if you will excuse me?” He turned and walked out quickly.

  I attempted to leave as well, but the agent called me back,

  “Jake, I see you are the owner of RE/MAX Elite, I wonder if I might stop by and have an interview with you. I have been thinking a lot lately about becoming a RE/MAX agent.”

  “You have my card, give me a call next week sometime.”

  I broke away as quickly as I could in order to follow him again, but he vanished. I drove home and as I did I called Sam. Seems our Mr. Travis is unknown, but not our Mr. Cunningham, who has a rap sheet with items dating back to his teenage years. Most interesting is a charge of rape and felonious assault, but he was not convicted because the victim wouldn’t press charges. Sam was now very interested in this man. She put in to take two weeks of her long overdue vacation time and to stay with me to help nail this creep. She told me she would be here in a couple of days, and until she got here, leave this guy alone.

  That night I decided to stay home and try to get some rest after all this super sleuth business. I had my dinner, poured a glass of brandy and sat down in the living room to finish reading Alva. I just settled in when there was a knock at the door. I walked over, pulled it open, and that was the last thing I remembered. When I regained consciousness, I looked up from the floor and saw a large man wearing a ski mask.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to come round so I could deliver a message. Stop playing detective or the next time I come to visit; you won’t ever wake up again. Are we crystal clear on that point, Mr. Fowler?”

  I nodded as I found it difficult to speak. He left as quickly as he arrived. When I finally got on my feet, I stumbled to the mirror and saw that my face looked more like hamburger than a face. I called Sam and she drove the three-hour drive to get here. It was about eleven when she arrived and she was shocked when she saw me.

  “If you had told me you were this bad I would have called an ambulance for you!”

  By now my face was so badly swollen, my eyes looked like two piss-holes in the snow. I had cleaned up most of the blood, but my face was a sight. She put me to bed, packed my face in ice and tried to talk with me or should I say interrogate me on all the whys and wherefores. It was hard for me to talk, but I wanted her to know everything I knew at that point. She lay down beside me and we both fell asleep. The next morning my face, which had sustained all the damage, felt worse than the night before. Sam babied me for the next few days until my face began to look like a face again. During that time, we talked about Charli, our relationship and what we could to stop this guy, Cunningham. It was nice having someone close to talk to and we would lie on my big bed and talk until we both fell asleep. She was like Charli in many ways but for a sheriff, she was much different than I thought she would be. She was softer in her thoughts and deeds. I had really never noticed that side of her before, but then we never had much opportunity to get together. Charli never really invited her around except for special holidays. Sam, like Charli, didn’t seem to be smitten with the idea of marriage. Plus I always sensed a bit of competition between them, but never paid much attention. Sam was beginning to get to me and I found that strange in light of recent events.

  I told my office I was not feeling well so I would be working from home for a few days. Except for my discussions with Sam, nothing was done about Cunningham. I wanted time to heal and plan for the next step and Sam’s knowledge of police work would be a tremendous help.

  We devised a plan that would be more than our friend could handle. Sam convinced me to let her be a decoy. I ordered a sign with her picture on it, glamour shot at that. Normally this is a no-no in our profession, for the very reason we were doing it. I then placed an ad with this picture in the local paper and told the staff and agents with our firm that she was a top-producer and new hire from another state. We let her hold open the very house where Charli was killed. No one had shown any interest in this property since Charli died there. Would Cunningham have nerve enough to try it again in the same house? A physiological profile done at Sam’s request said his ego was such that he would. That was all we needed. Sam would wear a wire so she could tell me when to come in if he made a move.

  So we set it all up sign in the front yard, picture ad running, and same vacant house. This was going to be his downfall. That Sunday came and Sam dressed to the nines strutted around the yard as though she were waiting for clients.

  About two hours into the open house and he comes the black Benz. He slows down, I tell Sam to come out on the porch, she does and he sees her but drives by. I wondered if somehow we spooked him, but we hung in there until the end, which was to be four o’clock. Sure enough at ten minutes to the hour he drives up and into the driveway. I am nervous and my heart is racing ninety plus. But I remembered the plan when he was compromised she would say, “Hang” that would be my clue to rush in with my gun ready. I had my Bluetooth on and would call 911 as I rush in the door. Ten minutes go by, the conversation seems normal, he’s asking about the house and she is being polite and answering. Then all goes quiet, I hear only what sounds to be walking around. But something must be wrong, as now I hear nothing. What to do now, if I go in too soon, I blow the whole thing, but if I don’t Sam could be killed. I was beginning to think this was a bad idea. Five more minutes and still I don’t heart a sound. If he had attacked her though she would say the word, and I would hear the scuffle. So I relaxed for a minute, then it hit me, what if the wire stopped working or he found it and silenced it. I jumped from my hiding place with gun drawn and ran inside. Bam, I am out again. When I wake it’s dark, he’s gone and Sam is lying there naked and unconscious. I must have come in and spooked him, as she was alive. Her head was bleeding and the wire was gone. I put a damp cloth on her head and took off my shirt to cover her body. When she came too, she began to cry and said,

  “Oh Jake I messed up, I turned my head for a split second and he grabbed me, cupped his hand over my mouth and stuck a knife in my throat. He said if I so much as blinked he’d kill me. He must have felt the wire instantly and pulled the wire from the speaker. He had time to tear off my clothes and the rest of the wire. He had just started to unbuckle his trousers when he heard you coming onto the porch he hit me and that’s all I remember.”

  “He coldcocked me from behind as I came through the door. Are you sure you are ok?”

  “No, but I am alive and thanks to you, I didn’t get raped!” She said as she hurried to cover herself with what was left of her clothes.

  “Your clothes are in shreds, let me get a blanket from the car to cover you, wait right here.”

  She nodded and I ran to the car. As I opened the trunk I felt the cold steel of a gun barrel in my neck.

  “Don’t move, you bas
tard!”

  I stood up and put my hands up to show him I was not resisting. He walked me back into the house and sat me in the folding chair that was left there by Charli for doing the opens. He had a length of rope with which he tied me up. After I was securely bound, he said,

  “I sent you a warning of what would happen if you fucked with me again.”

  He had the same ski mask on as the night he visited my home. However his shirt was torn, evidently during his struggle with Sam and it revealed the tattoo. The scorpion on the front of his right shoulder that Charli told me about.

  “I think I will finish what I started with this one when you so rudely interrupted us.”

  “Look Cunningham, yes that’s right, we know who you really are. As we speak, the back up units are on their way.”

  He turned sharply back to me and ripped off his mask.

  “So you know me huh, well you just signed your own death warrant!”

  He abandoned his original idea and ran to his car and returned with a five-gallon can of gasoline. He began splashing it around on the floor and walls, but he was careful not to get it on Sam or myself. I thought that strange, but then he said,

  “Are you wondering why I am not putting the gasoline on you ya prick? Well you will die more slowly than