That’s the same feeling I got from this guy. If he turns out to be squeaky clean, I’ll turn in my badge.
It doesn’t take long to see why he got my guard up. His rap sheet is longer than my arm and dates all the way back to when he was ten years old.
His juvenile records are sealed elsewhere, but since the arrests were made out of this office, we have access to them all. I scan the pages and read through the charges and convictions. This boy is a grade-A small-town psychopath.
From mutilating neighborhood pets to stalking and attempted sexual assault, he’s had his hands in it all. Even more concerning to me is his address. He lives in Lori’s neighborhood.
I grab my hat and keys and head out to Lou’s Bistro. It’s time Michael and I have a little talk. My temples pulse as my heart rate rises. I should have told Lori what my instincts were telling me so she could be on the lookout for him. I arrive just in time for the lunch rush and stand impatiently for my turn to speak to the hostess.
When I finally make my way to her, she smiles. “Sheriff, back so soon? Are you dining alone for lunch?”
“I’m here to speak with Michael DiMiglio. Is he here?”
“He was. I’m not sure. Let me ring the kitchen for you.”
She makes the call and says, “Someone will be out with you shortly, Sheriff.”
I stand against the wall with my hand on my holster. There’s no doubt in my mind now that I found Lori’s home invader. I have to keep my cool with him so I don’t lose the upper hand.
If I accuse him, he’ll just deny it and maybe move on to some other unsuspecting girl. I have to be smart and not let the anger growing in the pit of my stomach screw this interrogation up for me.
While I wait, I take the opportunity to call Lori. After four rings, the call goes to her voicemail. She must be caring for her Nana. This isn’t something I want to tell her over voicemail, so I end the call without leaving a message.
After several minutes, Lou DiMiglio approaches me. “Sheriff, is there a problem?” He holds his hand out to me, and I shake it. I have no problem with the old man. He’s always seemed like a decent guy. It’s not his fault his kid is a lunatic.
“I’m here to speak to your son. Is he here? You’re welcome to sit in on our conversation if you like.”
A look of defeat washes over the man. “Just tell me. Is he in trouble again?”
“I have reason to believe he’s been stalking the girl you saw me here with, Lori Delaney. Someone broke into her grandmother’s house the first night she was here and that same person has been creeping around in the bushes every night since. I almost caught him last night. Things will go a lot easier for your son if he confesses. If I catch him in the act, he might get hurt.”
“No, that can’t be right. Lori and Michael kept in touch all these years. They’re friends.”
“That’s not true, Lou. Lori doesn’t even remember him. She told him that herself.”
“No, no. He’s changed. I know he has. That girl is his friend.” The man shakes his head. I don’t think he’s speaking to me. He’s gone to another place in his head.
“Lou? Where’s your son, Lou?”
He comes back to reality and looks at me with fear in his eyes. “Please, Luke. He’s a sick boy. Don’t hurt him.”
“Lou, tell me where he is.” I pin him with a look and grit my teeth.
“He packed up a bunch of food and took it to Lori’s place. He said she asked him to. I didn’t know! I’ll get him help again, Luke. I swear. Just don’t hurt my boy!”
With blood roaring in my ears, I run out of the bistro. I have to get back to Lori before this nutjob does anything stupid.
If he touches a single strand of hair on her head, I will end him. I turn on the siren and run the only two red lights in this town.
Time stands still as I sprint to the house. There are no cars in the driveway, and I fear he might have taken her somewhere. I don’t want a manhunt on my hands. Please let her be inside.
The neighborhood is eerily silent as I creep behind the bushes and pull my revolver from its holster. I step onto the front porch and listen for any sounds from inside the house, but it’s silent inside.
I step through the door and peer into the vacant living room. The dining room and kitchen are also abandoned, but there’s a stack of restaurant takeout containers on the table. I peer into Nana’s room and see the old woman sound asleep in her bed.
“Upstairs,” I whisper to myself and begin my climb to the second floor.
The air is stiff and silent, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I know I’m going to find something on the other side of Lori’s door.
