Sunday, April 25, 2:05 a. m
Once again Rudker was back on the corner of 26th and Friendly in the middle of the night. A full moon cast strange shadows around the neighborhood. For luck, he pulled into the spot where he had parked that first night when he took the disk.
He felt strangely serene. This unpleasant chapter in his life was about to be over. He was poised to move to Seattle-away from Prolabs, away from Tara the betrayer, away from Eugene and all its bad memories. He would call a realtor first thing in the morning and get his house on the market.
For now, he prepared to go in.
He pulled the knit cap over his head-to keep from losing any hair in the house-and took off one of his black socks. His put his shoes back on, and his bare ankle reminded him of Doug, standing in the bedroom door wearing shoes but no socks, after fucking his wife. Rudker would deal with him later.
The rolls of quarters went into the sock, knotted tightly in the toe. Rudker slipped his ex-wife’s expired credit card out of his wallet and moved it to his jacket pocket, along with the now lethal sock. He took his driving gloves and pen light out of the jockey box. The pen light and duct tape went into his other pocket. He had always loved the big pockets in his leather jacket, but they had never been more useful. Rudker pulled on his gloves and slid out of the Commander.
Moving quickly up the sidewalk to the now familiar gate, he reached over and let himself in. A few strides and he was across the yard and standing next to the garage’s side door. A sudden shout near the street startled him, and Rudker dropped his credit card. A second male voice called back, “Freak that,” or something equally absurd. Rudker didn’t let himself look up. He slowly bent down and groped around for the card, which he located near his foot.
He stayed on one knee until he heard the car start up and pull away. As it raced down the street-the only sound on an otherwise quiet night-Rudker seized the opportunity to pop the lock on the garage door using the credit card. The latch was so old and out of alignment, it might as well have not been locked. Easy as pie, just like last time. It surprised him Sula had not changed or reinforced her locks after his last intrusion. Apparently, she’d been too busy trying to fuck with him. She was such a fool.
Rudker moved slowly across the dark garage without flipping a switch or using his pen light He remembered the tall sculpture and steered clear of it. In doing so, he smashed his sockless foot against a lawnmower. Rudker kept himself from cursing out loud, but the voice in his head swore at him. Clumsy bastard. Can’t you do anything right?
He paused for a moment while the pain subsided, then moved on. The door between the garage and the kitchen was locked, but after a few minutes of jiggling, he was able to slide the bolt out of its compartment. It popped back with a satisfying click.
Rudker stepped inside. No cooking aromas greeted him. The house smelled stale, as if the windows hadn’t been opened in a while. Rudker held still and let his eyes adjust to the barely visible outlines in the dark kitchen. After a minute, he walked down the galley between the counter tops and into the dining area.
Where should he hide? It had to be a concealed space, yet not confined. He needed to be able to wait comfortably for as long as it took for Sula to come home, yet he had to be able to move quickly at a moment’s notice. He would only have one chance to do this right, without a struggle. The messier it went down, the more likely he would leave evidence. He had no intention of giving the cops any reason to associate him with her disappearance.
Sula woke suddenly and sat up. A bright moon lit up the outlines of the monitors and IV stands and she remembered she was in the hospital. She checked her watch: 2:07 in the morning. A woman began moaning across the way. Soon the sound of footsteps clomped in the hall, and later carts were wheeled in and out.
Sula decided it was time to go. She had slept off and on all afternoon, then slept again from nine o’clock till now. Wide awake, she stepped gently out of the bed, testing her strength. She was bruised but fine. She found her clothes on the visitor chair and dressed by the light of the moon.
Out into the hall and down past the nurses station. A tired-looking woman in blue called out, “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Can’t you wait until morning?”
“Nope.”
“You need to check out.”
Sula kept going. “I just did.”
On the first floor as she reached the reception area, Sula stopped in her tracks. She had no purse, no cell phone, no car, no money to make a call, and no money to pay a taxi. How in hell would she get home? She felt unexpectedly vulnerable.
Sula worked through it. The hospital would let her use their phone. She would call Paul for a ride. The police would find her purse and return it to her. She even had insurance for her cell phone. Everything was okay. No need for anxiety. She was fine. Tate was safe.
She asked the receptionist if there was a phone she could use and the woman pointed to one on the wall near the waiting area. Sula hesitated. Would Paul be home? Was it selfish to call him at this hour? He was a night owl and was often up late on weekends.
Paul didn’t answer. She left a message to call her at North McKenzie if he got home in the next fifteen minutes. Sula went back to the receptionist.
“Can you page Ron, the nurse who attended me?”
“He may have gone home. Unless he pulled a double, which he often does.” The young heavy-set woman made a call. She asked about Ron, then looked up.
“He’s in the ICU.”
The receptionist made another call. After ten minutes, Ron stepped off the elevator, looking as tired as everyone else on duty.
“Hey. What’s up? Are you going home?”
“I’m trying to.” Sula hated to ask, but she was desperate. “I don’t have a ride, and I don’t have any money on me for a taxi. Will you loan me ten dollars? I’ll pay you back tomorrow, I promise.”
Ron hesitated and Sula cringed. Before she could feel bad, he said, “My wallet’s in my locker. I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you.” He was already walking away.
While Ron was gone, she called a taxi. She hoped ten bucks would be enough to get her home. If not, she’d tell the driver to stop when the meter hit the ten-dollar mark and walk the rest of the way.
She thanked Ron for his kindness and asked him to thank Dr. Mike for her too. Her heart felt like skipping out of the building, but her body moved slowly, limping on her left leg.
The cool fresh air jolted her senses and made her feel grateful to be alive. She’d find a job, get custody of her son, then move somewhere Rudker couldn’t find her. The Nexapra trials would continue and there was nothing she could do about it. In time, Rudker would get rich and forget about her. She had to do the same.
Rudker decided the bedroom offered the best possibility for surprise with the least amount of risk. In the living room, if things didn’t go well, she would have an opportunity to run from the house. That would be a worst-case scenario. From the bedroom, she would have a much longer run for her freedom. Rudker knew he could take her. He was quite quick on his feet, despite his size. He would simply stand behind the partially open door and strike her at the first opportunity.
Rudker practiced his moves. One quick step to the side as the door opened, then swing the weighted sock back, then a giant step forward, bringing his arm all the way over and down-whack! After a few run-throughs, the movements felt smooth and natural.
He took the duct tape from his pocket and tore off a series of strips. A short four-inch piece to go across her mouth and two twelve-inch strips for her hands and feet. The ripping sounds penetrated the silence like screams. Rudker knew no one had heard, but it unnerved him anyway. He hung the strips against the back of the bedroom door and put the roll of tape back in his pocket.
The wait was interminable. He went through every mental calming exercise he’d learned in his years of therapy-visualizing a happy place, making lists of things to do, counting backward from one hundred. It was all bullshit, every irritating task. He had gone to the therapist early in his first marriage to make Maribel happy, but of course, he’d never made Maribel happy.
His legs got tired of standing so he stretched out on Sula’s bed. Her pillow smelled of jasmine. It felt strange to be off guard, but he knew he would hear her drive up and open the front door, giving him plenty of time to reposition himself. The other didn’t like any of it.
Idiot! Reckless fool! Get up and be ready, goddamn it!
Rudker checked his watch: 2:28. He’d only been here for an hour and half. Sula most likely would not be home for another five or six hours. He pulled the stolen cell phone out of his shirt pocket hit redial.
“North McKenzie Hospital. How can I help you?”
“When is Sula Moreno leaving tomorrow? I was thinking of coming to visit, but I don’t want to miss her.” Rudker had tried to keep his voice quiet without actually whispering. Instead, he’d sounded like a pervert.
“Just a moment, I’ll check. Did you say Sula?”
“Yes. With a U.”
While he waited, he listened for sounds outside. He heard a car on nearby 24th, but otherwise, the night was quiet.
“Sir? She seems to be gone.”
“What does that mean?”
“Her doctor didn’t sign her out, but a nurse on the second floor says she left. That’s all the information I have.”
“Thanks.”
Sula had left the hospital. Rudker took his position behind the door. After a moment, he had a worrisome thought. Considering what she had just been through, she might go stay somewhere else.
Ron’s ten dollars barely covered the taxi fare, and Sula apologized to the driver for not leaving a tip. Weary but happy to see her house, she stepped out on to the sidewalk. She wished she’d left her porch light on, but she had not known at 9:40 this morning she would be gone this long. At least she had her keys.
As she approached her front door, Sula thought about the night Rudker had broken into her house and stolen Warner’s disk. A shiver ran up her spine. She had to stop thinking about him. It was over. He’d scared the hell out of her and she’d given him all the evidence. She was no longer a threat to him. He would leave her alone now, wouldn’t he? As long as she left him alone? Wasn’t that the deal?
After the custody hearing, she and Tate would move. Maybe even leave Eugene.
Sula stood for a long moment with her house key in hand. An image of Diane Warner, lifeless and colorless in the basement of the hospital, floated into her brain. She shook it off. She was catastrophizing again. She didn’t know for sure Rudker was responsible for her accident up on the hill. A bitter laugh escaped her throat. The bastard had done it.
Sula unlocked the door and stepped in. A trickle of moonlight filtered into the living room through the tree in the front yard. She passed the table lamp and flipped on the light switch in the dining room. She wasn’t sleepy, so she headed for the TV.
She didn’t turn it on. Her house no longer felt like home. Her safe haven was gone, and Sula realized she would never relax here again. She couldn’t even stay until morning. Sula decided to pack an overnight back and get the hell out.
Rudker heard a car pull up outside, then drive away after a few minutes. Someone must have given Sula a ride. Of course. Her truck was probably totaled. What if she had brought someone home to stay with her? Oh shit. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Stupid, stupid, stupid. He looked around for a window. If he heard another voice besides Sula’s, he would exit immediately. He was not prepared to take on two people. If he’d had more time, or maybe bought some chloroform. Shut up.
The bedroom window faced the backyard and looked large enough to crawl through. Rudker turned back to the door, which he’d left partially open, listening intently. He heard a single person moving around, then the water in the kitchen came on, but no conversation. Rudker let out his breath in relief. Sula was alone.
Rudker tensed as he heard her coming toward him down the hallway. He tightened his grip on the makeshift sap. He hoped she would turn on a light. He needed to see her clearly so he could nail her either on the temple or right behind the ear. It was important she go down with one blow. Even if he didn’t knock her unconscious, he needed her on the floor and vulnerable.
Her footsteps stopped right outside the bedroom door. Rudker smelled the jasmine shampoo in her hair. Sula made a funny noise in her throat, then walked into the bathroom.