THE EVERETT INTERPRETATION
CHAPTER 7
Sunday morning found Bryce at Lakeside Park with Sam. The park, a small community park at the base of the Santa Susanna Hills, was a short walk from his house. Across from the park sat Chatsworth Lake, a crystal-clear reservoir used to store water for the parched San Fernando Valley. The surrounding land, fenced off from public use, belonged to the Department of Water and Power—according to public records. Bryce knew better.
When Sam wasn’t running from shrub, to tree, to shrub, checking doggy social media for messages left by any dog that had recently passed through, the pooch was chasing after his current favorite tennis ball. Bryce had gotten into the habit of replacing the balls every couple of weeks, as Sam chewed through them quickly. As far as the dog was concerned, this was the same ball he had played with since he was a puppy.
It had been nine days since the break-in and, outwardly at least, all had seemed to return to normal. Even so, Bryce had been extra suspicious of his surroundings to the point of paranoia. What he saw only caused him to be more cautious. He was now certain the green Taurus was keeping him under surveillance. He had noticed it on his delivery route several times. It also reappeared once or twice in the neighborhood. He had gotten a license plate number, but it was a rental. The name of the guy that rented it meant nothing to him. The windows were heavily tinted—he hadn’t got a good look at the driver, but he was sure there were at least two, maybe three different drivers.
He had also checked the trip wires set on his identity much more frequently. As he expected, there was a lot of activity. All of it had been courtesy of the LAPD. Someone was digging deeper into his background, and that wasn’t good. The false Bryce DeWitt ID was good for any surface examination, but the deeper they went, well sooner or later they were bound to connect something.
They were digging deeper into Davis’s history as well, but this was coming through military channels. That was unexpected… though maybe it shouldn’t have been. Maybe the fingerprints set that investigation off. Davis had a high security clearance, so maybe the guys at the Pentagon were going back in to see if there was something in his background they had missed. That wasn’t a problem for Davis, but it was certainly a potential problem for Bryce.
He had been strolling across the park’s manicured lawn, part of his attention on Sam, but mostly ruminating over the latest developments. Abruptly, the dog came bounding up to him, dropping the now thoroughly waterlogged ball at Bryce’ feet. He looked up at his master, a goofy smile on his doggy face, as if to say, “You know what to do with that, Boss.”
Bryce reached down, picked up the ball, and flung it. All in one fluid motion, not really paying attention to where it went. That was Sam’s job.
The ball skipped across the lawn, rolling to a stop at the feet of a brunet woman in black running shorts and matching tank top. As Sam approached, she picked up the ball and held it at shoulder height, tossing it from one hand to the other. This had the desired effect, driving Sam nuts. The poor dog dodged from side-to-side, anxiously trying to figure where the ball was going next.
Finally, in frustration, the poor dog began barking at the woman as if to say, “C’mon lady! You’re not supposed to hold it! Throw it! Please! Please! PLEASE!”
To this she just laughed but, obligingly, turned and tossed the ball along the same line Bryce had. Bouncing across the grass a couple of times, it eventually came to rest beneath an oak tree. Sam immediately took off after his prize toy.
With her back to Bryce, watching Sam, the woman wiped her hands off on the seat of her shorts. While not intended to be, Bryce found the motion rather sexy. She turned and started walking in Bryce’s direction. She was attractive. Early thirties. Medium height and build. Her brown skin glistened with sweat—obviously, the running shorts and top were not for looks alone. Auburn hair framed her face in a short pageboy cut.
She seemed somehow familiar. His first thought was she might be one of Kurtz’s people, but Bryce quickly pushed that aside. Kurtz would never be so direct. His style was more, a bag over the head with a blackjack to the skull—in the dead of night.
When the woman reached Bryce, she simply extended her hand. “Looks like you found your dog,” she said with a sincere smile.
Bryce turned to look at Sam, momentarily puzzled. Then he smiled and, taking the proffered hand replied, “Yeah. He turned up later that evening. Seems okay. None the worse at any rate. I do apologize Officer Stone. I didn’t quite recognize you out of uniform.”
Bryce paused, feeling slightly flustered. “I mean in civilian clothes. I mean…” but here he trailed off, at a rare loss for words.
She laughed, continuing to smile with her eyes! It was a very feminine laugh. “That’s okay, Mr. DeWitt. Most people that wear a uniform for a living look quite different when they take it off. Generally, people only see the uniform, registering the face as a kind of generic mask. You know, all cops look alike,” she laughed.
“Is that true of the pretty cops as well?” flirted Bryce, finding his voice again. He gave her a silly kind of crooked smile that he knew most women found attractive.
“Now you’re just trying to be charming, Mr. DeWitt.”
“Is it working? And call me Bryce.”
“That depends. And you can call me Officer Stone.”
She turned, her eyes tracking Sam’s progress. He had found the ball by the tree and was slowly trotting in their direction. “That’s a nice animal you have there. How old is he?”
“Just turned three,” replied Bryce. “Had him since he was a pup.”
She turned to face Bryce, looking at him with a very disarming smile. After studying him for a moment, she asked “How do you know Alan Davis?”
Without missing a beat Bryce replied, “Hmmm. Never heard of the man. Should I know him?”
DeWitt was a cool customer, Ellie thought. She had been looking at his face for a reaction to the Davis name. There was none. The man was probably a good poker player.
“We found his fingerprints all over your house,” she said.
“Well, there you go. He’s probably the one that broke in and trashed my place. Maybe you should be talking to him. Ask him what he found so interesting that he felt compelled to toss my stuff all over the house, yet not interesting enough to take anything.”
“He’s not our man. He was in New Mexico at the time. He’s a civilian contractor working for the military and was positively identified as being on the base that day. Still there, as a matter of fact.”
“Well, I don’t know what I can add. I don’t know the man.” Bryce shrugged trying to look innocent. Something that was becoming more difficult.
“To be blunt, Mr. DeWitt, I think you’re hiding something. This was no ordinary break-in, and I think you know that. These people were looking for something. I don’t know how Davis fits in, but I’ll figure it out. You seem like an upright guy, Mr. DeWitt. If you’re in some kind of trouble, maybe I can help. Maybe if you talk to me, things will go easier when this all comes crashing down on you.”
“You know Ellie. It is Ellie, isn’t it? You’re cute when you get angry. Your nose kind of crinkles up and your cheeks get all flushed.”
Bryce was trying to derail her thought process. It was his experience, if you called a person in authority by their first name, it tended to erode that veneer of authority. If you complimented them, or outright flattered them, they had a difficult time badgering you with questions. She wasn’t going to drop this in the long run; Bryce could tell that much. He just needed her to drop it at this particular moment.
Before she could reply, Sam bounded up with his ball. He dropped it at their feet, sensing something was going on between the two of them. He didn’t know exactly what it was. He was, after all, only a dog. He just looked from face to face trying to puzzle it out.
Bryce used the momentary distraction to continue his offensive. “Officer Stone, is this an official interrogation?”
“No Mr. DeWitt. I was just out for a jog, and we had a chance meeting.”
“Well, I’ve politely answered your questions when I really was under no obligation to do so. I have no idea who Alan Davis is, and I don’t know what these people could have possibly been looking for. I think we are through here.”
With that, Bryce turned and strode away self-importantly. The speech would have gone over much better had Sam followed him. Instead, the dog panted while remaining seated next to Officer Stone. The two of them watched after Bryce’s retreating figure. Making a quick about face, he walked back up to the pair, trying his best to avoid eye contact with Officer Stone. For her part, she was smiling and trying not to laugh out loud despite herself.
Clipping Sam’s leash onto the dog’s collar, he muttered, “Traitor,” under his breath, and the two marched off. Well, Bryce marched. A butterfly caught Sam’s attention, and he tried to bound after it. Only to be pulled up short at the end of his leash.
Ellie managed to stifle a smile as she watched the pair stride away. Still, she couldn’t resist. Calling after him she smirked, “You know, Mr. DeWitt, there are leash laws. I could cite you for not keeping your dog on a leash.”
The walk from the park, back to his house, was slightly more than one mile. Bryce was glad he had decided to walk that morning, rather than drive, as he sometimes did when feeling lazy. By the time he returned home, he was feeling calmer and thinking clearer. The unexpected encounter with Officer Stone had unnerved him. No doubt that was her intent. He had to give her props for having either good instincts, or a keen eye for detail. She sensed something was going on here. She couldn’t imagine, in her wildest dreams, the true nature of the trouble Bryce was in. But that didn’t stop her from digging around in his past. And she had somehow got the military looking into things in New Mexico. Sooner or later, that was going to lead back to him. So much for even the pretense of normalcy.
It was time to go on the offensive. Bryce knew he couldn’t maintain this façade much longer, under such intense scrutiny. Until that morning, his biggest concern had been Kurtz. Now he was feeling pressure from the police and the military as well. He had to be careful he didn’t make a misstep through panic.
His first instinct had been to bolt. After the encounter with Officer Stone, he had wanted to rush home, throw what few remaining and unbroken belongings he possessed into a suitcase, jump in his truck with Sam, and simply vanish. The walk home gave him time to consider the repercussions of doing just that. It had only convinced him it was the wrong thing to do. That plan left too many unanswered questions for the police, much less the military, to simply stop looking for him. It also didn’t solve the problem of Kurtz. Even if the police and military stopped, Kurtz never would. He had found Bryce once! He was sure to find him again!
Bryce had been mulling over a plan of action in his head for the past week. Now it began to take solid shape, as he began mentally checking off details. It was going to take a few days to prepare, but by the end of the week, Bryce DeWitt would be gone. The police, or at least Officer Stone, thought he was into drugs. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. Kurtz and his people wanted the register. Once he had retrieved it, they would make their move. Perhaps he could use that also.
