The Body on Ortega Highway Read online

Page 5


  “Which hospital did he go to?”

  “UCI.”

  “Okay. What year was this?”

  “2007.”

  “Okay. I think I’ll try to speak to his doctor there.”

  “I’ll let you know if I come up with anything to help.”

  “Great. Be sure to send me those photos. ASAP.”

  “Okay. Take care.”

  “You, too.”

  Chapter Eleven

  James Smith was true to his word, and e-mailed her many pictures of his twin brother. Looking at the old photos, Clarissa remembers what a funny guy John used to be. What an imagination he had. The stories he would tell. He did the best impersonations of people. They had fun hanging out with the other neighborhood kids. ‘That was so very long ago,’ Clarissa thinks. ‘Another lifetime, it seems.’

  There have been many hang-up calls since Clarissa stopped picking up her home phone and started letting the answering machine screen all the calls. ‘What a great invention an answering machine is’, she thinks. ‘It’s probably the biggest frustration for obscene phone callers. They must think that the machines are taking all the fun out of their ‘little hobby’.’ When Clarissa tells Lieutenant Harris about the big break in the case, she is thrilled that they finally have a lead. The press has been really pressuring the Sheriff’s Department to come up with a name and make an arrest. It’s been hard on the girls’ families to have unanswered questions. It makes the sheriff’s department look bad. But it is a difficult case since there was such little physical evidence gathered at the two crime scenes.

  *******

  Clarissa calls UCI’s Behavioral Science Unit and asks to speak to the doctor who treated Smith in 2007. She tells him that John is now a person of interest in two murders, and the doctor faxes to her all of his notes from the sessions he’s had with his patient.

  Reading his case history makes Clarissa feel sorry for him and his family. She learns that he was very traumatized when his 19-year-old brother died from epilepsy. John, only eighteen at the time, was the one who found the body. It was still warm and John felt guilty that he couldn’t revive him. The doctor thought John had felt those feelings all over again when he couldn’t save his baby. He had an older sister who was schizophrenic. She was always at the computer, “working on her book.” John walked into her room one day to read what she’d written and was horrified to find that it was all gibberish. He was afraid that he was going to end up just like his sister. His mother and twin brother wanted the sister to go to a psychiatric hospital, but he fought them tooth and nail. He said he’d take care of her. She ended up committing suicide. He blamed himself for not allowing her to go to a psychiatric hospital like his family wanted her to do. Such a sad family.

  Clarissa ends up driving over to the house where he used to live. The house she grew up in was on the same street. She knows that his family sold it years ago, but she tries to imagine all of the pain he and his family must have gone through. She has brought along a Jackson Browne cd and listens to a song that begins, “Well, I looked into a house I once lived in, ‘bout the time I first went on my own...” She thinks about all those long summer nights when the neighborhood teenagers would stand around talking until close to midnight or until their mothers finally told them to come inside. ‘What were we talking about all that time?’ she wonders.

  *******

  She’s thinking about all this while she’s making dinner tonight. As she is taking a roasted chicken out of the oven, her home phone rings. She jumps when she hears the ring and practically drops the entire chicken on the kitchen floor.

  She turns on the recording device that the Sheriff’s tech guys installed for her and picks up the phone.

  “Clarice, is that you?”

  Clarissa recognizes John’s voice and says, “My name is Clarissa.”

  “I know.”

  “Not Clarice, like in the ‘Silence of the Lambs’.”

  “I know. I thought you’d appreciate the humor in it.”

  “There’s nothing funny about this. What do you want, John?”

  “I’m just calling to ask how your dog is doing.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s so cute. I just love him. He looks like Eddy on ‘Fraser’.”

  “I know.”

  “I hope you’re not thinking of having this call traced. You wouldn’t betray an old friend like that would you?”

  “Did you kill those girls?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought it would interest you.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “Seems to me like it does.”

  “What do you want from me?!”

  “I want to meet with you.”

  “Why?”

  “To catch up on old times.”

  “That was ancient history.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t play hard to get. We all know what a slut you are. All the boys in the neighborhood know that.”

  “How can you say such hateful things?”

  “I love you.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “Yes. I do. I know all about you. I’ve been following your career. I’m your number one fan.”

  “Well, don’t be.”

  “Come on, Clarice. I want to see you again.”

  “Forget it.”

  “You wouldn’t want me to cut off your little Gumbo’s arms, now would you?”

  “Leave him out of this. He’s just an innocent little dog!!”

  “You love him, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “I really don’t want to hurt him. I like dogs.”

  “Leave him out of this!!”

  “Don’t make me hurt him. I don’t want to. I like Gumbo.”

  “How do you know his name?”

  “I know all about you.”

  “What do you want me from me?”

  “I want to meet you at the Tustin High bleachers tonight.”

  “Tonight? That’s kind of short notice.”

  “Meet me in 30 minutes.”

  “I’m busy. That’s too soon.”

  “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

  “I leave it.”

  “Don’t hurt me like this.”

  “Stop calling me, John!” Clarissa says, and slams down the phone.

  When the phone rings again, Clarissa rips the chord out of the wall. She calls Ron to tell him what just happened and he says, “Stay where you are. I’m coming home.”

  “What are we going to do, Ron?”

  “Stay close to your phone. I’m on my way home. Call your boss. Tell her what’s just happened. I want a cop over there right away. You need to have round-the-clock protection.”

  “Ron, I’m so scared. He wants to hurt Gumbo.”

  “We won’t let that happen.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Clarissa, let me make some calls. I’m on my way home, sweetheart. Hang in there."

  She grabs her cell and calls her boss to tell her that John Smith has just confessed, on tape, to the two murders. Her boss says that she’s sending someone over right away to watch the house and make sure she’s okay.

  *******

  When Ron comes home, she throws her arms around him. “Don’t leave me. Don’t you ever leave me.”

  “I won’t honey, I promise. I’m here for you.”

  “What are we going to do about Gumbo?”

  “I think we need to take him to the vet. At least, he’ll be in a cage and be safe while we’re at work. We can’t be with him all the time. At least we’ll know he’s safe.”

  “Okay. I think that’s a good plan.” She picks up Gumbo and sits down in rocking chair in the front room, pets him, and starts to cry.

  Ron says, “What are we going to do about you, honey? I’ve never seen you this frightened. You’re always such a brave little soldier.”

  “Can I go hide somewhere, too?”

 
“I wish we were back in Savannah on vacation.”

  “Me, too. We were so happy there.”

  “Come here, sweetheart,” Ron says. “Give me a hug.”

  She puts Gumbo down and walks over to Ron to hug him. “Don’t let him get me.”

  “I won’t, honey. I promise.”

  Clarissa’s cell phone rings and she jumps. Ron answers. It’s her boss who tells him that there are officers called out to the house and they will be there round the clock. “How’s Clarissa holding up?”

  “Not good.”

  “Can I speak to her?”

  Ron hands the phone to her and says, “It’s your boss.”

  “Hello,” Clarissa says in a weak voice.

  “Come on. Hang in there. We’ll catch this bastard.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I guarantee it. We’re looking for him. We’re getting close to finding him. Hang in there.”

  “Okay. Bye.”

  They hear a knock at their door and Clarissa eyes get big. “It’s okay, honey. I’ll go and see,” Ron says, grabbing his gun.

  He looks out the window and sees that it’s a policeman and puts down his gun.

  The cop asks, “Everything alright in there?”

  “Yes. We’re good. Thanks for coming.”

  “Is Detective Santy okay?” the cop asks, looking around for her.

  “Hi Bill,” she says. “Thanks for coming.”

  “You bet! You have my cell number, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right outside in my car.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ron goes into the kitchen and empties two cans of Chicken Noodle soup into a saucepan. He gets out a box of oyster crackers from the cupboard and pours a cup of milk into her favorite mug. He sets the table and says, “Soup’s on, Clarissa.”

  She walks into the dining room still holding Gumbo. “I’m not really hungry. My stomach’s all messed up.”

  “I know. But this will go down easy. You got to keep up your strength. Just sit down with me and try to eat. Okay?”

  “Okay. This is sweet of you. Thank you.”

  She eats dinner with Gumbo sitting on her lap.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning, Ron reaches over in bed for Clarissa, but finds that she’s already up. He climbs out of bed to look for her and finds her sitting in a rocking chair in the living room, holding Gumbo and crying.

  “Oh, honey. Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

  “No,” she says meekly.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking? Why are you crying?” he asks. “Come sit next to me on the sofa.”

  She walks over and sits next to him with Gumbo still in her arms. “It’s just everything is finally catching up with me.”

  “I know. You’re always so brave and in control.”

  “Not anymore...It’s just everything.”

  “Like what? Tell me.”

  “Like my cousin in Savannah getting killed…Like trying to help my father readjust to life outside of prison, then he turns around and breaks the law all over again.”

  “We both tried helping him.”

  “I know. He’s probably better off in prison. I hate to say that, but it’s true.”

  “It’s all he knows, really,” Ron says, as he sees a photo album lying open on the coffee table. “Were you looking at pictures last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s look at them together.”

  “Okay.”

  He picks up the album and sees a picture of Clarissa as a little girl. She’s about two years old and is wearing a bonnet that makes her look like a little prairie girl. A handsome young man with a mustache is wearing a leather hat and holding her. Ron says, “Is this Steve?”

  “Yes. I wish I would have known him better. My mother said that he really loved me--just as much as he would if I were his biological daughter.”

  “Is there a picture of your mother in here?”

  “Yes. Here she is. Isn’t she beautiful?”

  “She looks like one of those Gibson Girls with her hair like that.”

  “I told you that she married the District Attorney? The former one. Not your boss.”

  “Yes. Sometimes it really gets to me that she abandoned you to Steve’s family for the first 18 years of your life. I’m very pissed at her for that, Clarissa.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Good for you for admitting it. Anger’s good sometimes. You keep everything bottled up.”

  Clarissa starts crying, “I would never have met her if I hadn’t tried to seek her out. Then, when I finally did find her, she was dying.”

  “Life can be so cruel sometimes.” He continues looking through the album and sees Clarissa in her In-And-Out Burger uniform. “Look how cute you look,” he says. “I wish I would have known you then. How old were you?”

  “I was 18.”

  He sees a picture of her wearing a black t-shirt, black mini-skirt and black boots. “This must have been when you were in your ‘Goth’ period.”

  “Yes. That was my other uniform.”

  He continues looking through the album and sees a man who’s about forty sitting in front of an airstream trailer. “So, this is my competition, huh?”

  “Yes. That’s Dick Santy, my mentor.”

  “Your husband.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Yes! I wanted to be the one to deflower you.”

  When she hears him say ‘deflower’, she starts laughing.

  “That’s my girl,” he says. “Come on. Let’s go get some Krispy Kreme donuts.”

  “Yay!” Clarissa says. “Can we take Gumbo?”

  “Of course, honey.”

  They drive to “The Block”, a mall in Orange, to get the donuts. As they are getting off the 22 Freeway, Clarissa says, “Look. Burke Williams. I would love to be there now.”

  “You deserve a spa day. Why don’t you call them right now and see if you can get in for a facial. I’ll take Gumbo to the vet.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I think it would lift your spirits.”

  “What about my job?”

  “It’ll be there waiting for you. I think your boss will understand after what happened last night. Even detectives get sick sometimes.”

  “I think they’re going to want to listen to his phone call last night.”

  “I’ll tell your boss all about it. Don’t worry about it right now.”

  “I’ve got to find John before he hurts anyone else.”

  “Me, too. But there isn’t much more you can do in the next few hours but try to rest and recuperate.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “Call Burke Williams right now and see if you can get in this morning and I’ll drop you off.”

  She answers, “But I didn’t bring my purse. I don’t have my wallet, phone, or any money. How am I supposed to pay for my facial?”

  “We’ll stop at an ATM first.”

  “Okay. I feel so decadent.”

  “You deserve a break today.”

  “At McDonalds?”

  “We’ve watched way too many commercials growing up, haven’t we?”

  “Yes we have. Ron?”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “I feel like I died and went to heaven when I met you.”

  “Me, too, sweetheart. Me, too.” He hands his phone to Clarissa and tells her to call Burke Williams for the earliest available appointment. They are able to get her in for a 9:00 facial.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Clarissa opens the big door and steps into Burke Williams, she feels like she’s been transported to heaven. A heaven that looks like Tuscany. There is beautiful tile work and a roaring fire in the fireplace. Big cushy sofas welcome her inside. She feels like her blood pressure has dropped a few numbers. She takes a refreshing breath and walks over to the clear pitcher which holds water infused with cucumbers and lemon slices.

  She goes to her locke
r and puts on a downy soft bathrobe. The showers are wonderful and she lingers in her own private one, positioning the water jets towards each of her favorite places. She makes sure to take advantage of all of their products and liberally lathers her hair with clean-smelling shampoo and conditioner.

  She hasn’t brought her bathing suit, but it’s no problem. She’s going to let it all hang out today. To hell with modesty. She leaves the shower and steps into the huge Jacuzzi. There’s a jet that hits the knot in her neck and between her shoulder blades and she feels herself relaxing. She takes a big breath in and slowly lets it out. She sits in there for about 15 minutes before going to the misting room. She steps inside, and feels the mist and drops of water cool her off from the Jacuzzi.

  ‘This is the life!’ she tells herself.

  It’s so early in the morning that she’s the only client there. It’s like she’s in her own private palazzo. The only people she sees are attendants who give her warm towels and offer her frozen lemonade balls.

  She goes into the sauna and lies down. She loves the way the cedar smells and imagines being in a mountain cabin with Ron lying next to her. She uses this room for about ten minutes and then realizes that it’s almost time for her facial.

  She leaves the sauna and puts her bathrobe on. She walks over to the “Quiet Room” and reclines in one of the pods. It is dark and calming in here and she concentrates on her breathing. A lady opens the door and whispers, “Clarissa?”

  “Yes. That’s me,” she says, as she follows the aesthetician to the room for her facial. The aesthetician shows her the massage table, which looks more like a bed, complete with its own sheets and bedspread. She tells Clarissa, “Leave your bathrobe on this hook and I’ll step outside to let you climb into the bed and get nice and cozy.”

  The aesthetician knocks on the door after a few minutes, and then re-enters. She takes the robe and puts it into a microwave-type appliance to keep it warm. There is new-age type music playing, which, in other circumstances, Clarissa might have laughed at; but being here, it is perfect. The aesthetician adjusts a foam roll under Clarissa’s knees and asks her if she feels comfortable. Then she gets in back of the bed and tells Clarissa to move back towards her a little more. When she’s all set, the facial begins. Fifty minutes of pure bliss.