W is for Wasted Page 134


•   •   •

Late afternoon on August 24, Pete did a dry run. He drove out to the university and used Linton’s hand-drawn map to get the lay of the land. He left his car some distance from the building where the lab was housed and proceeded on foot. He knew the lab was on the second floor. Even at that hour, he could see the offices and labs marked by a stripe of brightly lighted windows that extended all the way around. It seemed odd to Pete he’d be trespassing in full view of anyone who happened by that night. With his height and his odd build, he stood out like a sore thumb wherever he went, and while he’d equipped himself with the requisite white lab coat, he didn’t look like a scientist. Of course, scientists came in all shapes and sizes. Smart people could look any way they wanted and no one thought twice about it.

Satisfied with his reconnoitering, he returned to his car and threaded a course across campus, which was already chockablock with students. Most wore shorts, flip-flops, and T-shirts, bare limbs exposed, all that young flesh in evidence. UCST was known as a party school; beer and dope, kids loitering at every turn. Occasionally he’d see a student reading a book, but that was the rare exception. Pete wondered what life would have been like with so many advantages. Didn’t warrant too much thought at this point, as any options he might have had were gone by now.

•   •   •

He picked up a burger and fries and went back to the office. His message light was blinking, but he had no time for that. He ate at his desk with the cruise line brochure open in front of him. He’d told Ruthie he was on an all-night surveillance, so she wouldn’t be expecting him until morning. He reached the portion of the brochure that detailed a cruise on the Danube and leaned in close to read, tantalized by the descriptions of the amenities. All meals were prepared on board, it said, using the finest and freshest ingredients. Complimentary wine; bottled water replenished daily in each state room. Four countries, nine excursions. “Gentle walking options,” he read, which was good given his physical limitations. He still had a portion of the money Willard had paid him and with Linton’s four grand added to his stash, he was almost there.

At 11:30, he left the office and drove to Willard’s apartment complex. He parked on the side street, walked to the gated entrance, and stepped into the courtyard. He paused, making sure there was no one about. Assured that he was alone, he continued at a casual pace to Willard’s front door, where he anticipated finding Mary Lee’s ID. There was no sign of it. He lifted the welcome mat, thinking Willard had tucked it out of sight. He took out his penlight and flashed the narrow beam around the foundation plantings. Nothing.

He walked around the side of the building and checked the Bryces’ bedroom windows. Dark. No sound. No flickering to suggest the television set was on. Surely, Willard hadn’t gotten his dates mixed up. Pete was at a loss. He couldn’t call at this hour. Mary Lee might pick up instead of Willard and then what? Another possibility was that hubby might be waiting to make sure she was soundly sleeping before he took the badge from its usual place. If that were the case, a ringing phone would spoil everything.

He went back to the center of the courtyard and settled in a lawn chair, arms crossed, hands tucked away for warmth. The temperature had sunk into the low fifties and the air felt damp. All he could do was wait, so he waited. From time to time, he got up and returned to Willard’s door, which remained a blank. What was wrong with him? Pete couldn’t spend all night in the cold. At 1:30, he returned to his car, where he huddled for another hour before he fell asleep.

He woke at 6:30, stiff and desperate for a pee. The sun hadn’t quite shifted into view, so he got out of the car and relieved himself behind a nearby tree. In the car again, he waited until he saw Mary Lee leave the apartment, coffee container in hand, her purse under her arm. She got in the car, fiddled with her seat belt, checked her makeup, and adjusted her travel mug in the cup holder. Pete thought he’d go insane if she didn’t get out of there. She finally drove off, presumably on her way to work.

Pete was frosted. Willard, for whatever reason, had failed to deliver, and where did that put Pete? The night had come and gone and who knew when another opportunity would present itself? Linton Reed wasn’t going to be happy when he heard the plan had gone awry. He left his car unlocked while he crossed the grass and entered the center courtyard. He knocked on the Bryces’ door and waited.

When the door finally opened, Willard said, “What do you want?”

“What do you think? You want to tell me why you reneged on our agreement?”