“Wait. Where’s the safety on this thing? Shouldn’t I check that first?” Hannah asked, tucking her hands behind her back to avoid taking the weapon.
“It doesn’t have a safety.”
“What?”
“Not all guns have a safety, per se. But this one does have a safe trigger. You could throw this gun across the room and it wouldn’t go off. It can only fire when the trigger is fully depressed—that’s the ‘safety’ on this model.” Kelsey pointed. “There’s the trigger, now see that little piece in the middle? The gun can’t fire if you aren’t squeezing the trigger firmly. If it’s nudged on top, no. If it falls, no.”
She held out the Glock again, and this time Hannah took it.
It felt funny to handle the gun. It wasn’t that she hadn’t touched firearms before. It was just that they were usually harmless flintlock reproductions that were used for Key West’s famous Pirate Days.
She loaded the gun just as Kelsey had instructed her. She wasn’t sure whether she was glad it was so easy—or disturbed.
“That’s it—you’re ready to shoot,” Kelsey told her. “In fact, we should go to a range soon so you can learn.”
“We should?” Hannah said. “Already?”
Kelsey said, “Okay, let’s have you do the whole thing first. Take the clip out, check that the barrel is empty and there isn’t a round remaining. There won’t be, of course, because you saw me take it out, but you need to learn to check it. Then slide the magazine back in again.”
Hannah did as she was told.
Kelsey nodded approvingly. “Good. I bet you won’t have any trouble learning to aim, either. When we were kids, you were great at those carnival shooting games.”
“Hey, don’t forget. I’m good at darts.”
“Always an important talent,” Kelsey said. She picked up her gun and slid it back into her waistband. “I usually have this on me. Logan carries a Glock plus a little Smith & Wesson, and I think Dallas carries the same model Glock I do. Not that it matters. They all load the same. The number of rounds in the mag is always on the back end and the notch always goes forward. Got that?”
“Got it,” Hannah promised.
Kelsey seemed tense, she thought. She realized that her cousin had seemed jittery ever since she’d run upstairs in answer to Hannah’s call, only to find that the watcher—if indeed there had been a watcher—was gone. “Are you okay?” Hannah asked.
Kelsey nodded. “Of course I’m okay. I wish I could have seen what you saw, that’s all. I’m not surprised. I figured someone was watching the house round the clock, and I don’t mean the officer out front. You didn’t catch any details at all?”
“Not of his face,” Hannah said.
“But it was a him?”
“Or a big her.”
“What about Melody and Hagen? Where are they? And Jose and Yerby?” Kelsey shook her head. “We’re in a very lucky position to have them, but it would be nice if they showed up more often.”
“They’re probably watching the grounds,” Hannah said, and smiled. “But I know they’re somewhere nearby. We can ask if they saw anyone next time they materialize.”
Kelsey nodded. She walked to the front door and looked out. Then she moved through the house to look out back to the pool and patio. “It’s so beautiful back there,” she said.
“Want to go sit outside for a while?” Hannah asked.
Kelsey lifted a brow at her.
“Oh, yeah. I’m supposed to stay in the house,” Hannah said. “Out there we’d be sitting ducks for a sharpshooter or a bush vaulter or whatever.”
“Cabin fever already?” Kelsey asked her. “You’ll get out tonight for your ghost tour.”
“Please, Key West History and Legends Tour,” Hannah corrected with a smile. “In deference to Melody and Hagen. They don’t like being called ghosts.”
Kelsey smiled. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Seriously, sometimes we’re all so politically correct we don’t know what we’re talking about. But in my experience, most ghosts prefer the term spirit.”
Almost as if the word had summoned them, Hagen and Melody materialized, entering hand in hand from the backyard.
“Did you find out anything?” Hannah asked them.
“No, but Hagen and I have been walking the trail from where Jose entered your yard, met Shelly and Stuart, and then staggered out to the alley to die,” Melody said.
“And?” Hannah asked.
“The killer must have followed him,” Hagen said.
“We’d figured as much,” Kelsey said. “But where is Jose’s knife?”
Hannah shook her head. “The crime scene techs searched everywhere. They even went through bins of garbage. The killer must have taken it with him.”
“All right, that makes sense. But what about the blood? The only reason for the killer to take the knife is if he was cut, and that means his blood has to be somewhere,” Kelsey said.
“But unless the lab found his blood, we can’t even test the DNA,” Hannah said.
“The knife was dripping blood—that’s what Shelly Nicholson said, right?” Kelsey asked.
“Right, but she was pretty freaked out, I don’t know whether it was really dripping. There might just have been blood on the blade,” Hannah admitted.
“And there’s another problem with DNA evidence,” Kelsey said. “Even if we find the killer’s blood, we need something to compare it to. If he’s not in the system, we’re screwed.”
“On another topic, have you two seen anyone watching the house?” Hannah asked.
Melody looked questioningly at Hagen. “I haven’t seen anyone,” she said. “And at night Hagen takes the front and I take the back. It’s odd, though.”
“What?” Hannah asked her.
“I feel something. I feel that we’re being watched, that someone is always out there all the time. And I don’t know why I can’t see him.”
* * *
Billie Garcia wasn’t as easy to break as his cousin.
But, in the end, he broke all the same.
It happened when Dallas threw up his hands and told Liam that he was through and the cops could take Billie. As soon as Liam thanked him and said that Billie would fit right in with the general population at the correctional center on Stock Island, Billie suddenly decided he liked the concept of living after all.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t even as helpful as his cousin had been. He swore he hadn’t killed anyone. He knew that he might have been asked to. He listed the relatively few robberies he’d taken part in, and explained that he’d mainly been responsible for transporting stolen goods.
From where to where?
He’d been told where a van would be and then told where to drive it.
Not much help, Dallas was forced to admit. The Wolf was meticulous, using several people on a haul, none of them knowing who had left the truck for them or who would be picking it up after they left it in turn.
“The four of us that night...we’re all from here, so we go way back,” Billie explained. “Martin picks up work as a dishwasher at different restaurants. Reggie plays a mean guitar. He hangs at Mallory Square a lot. Carter does odd jobs, pretty much whatever he can find. We mostly work gang jobs on our own, like everybody else, but when the Wolf needs a group effort, he comes to us.”
“How do you get paid?” Dallas had asked him.
“Cash, of course. We get a call about where we can pick up the green.”
“What about Jose Rodriguez?”
Billie grew visibly uncomfortable. He let out a sigh. “I met the guy at a bar on Duval. He’d been scrounging money from tourists over on Duval near Front Street. As soon as he got enough, he came in and asked for a drink. He told me he’d been let off from some kind of a comput
er job, and the more we talked, the more he seemed like a guy we could use. I told the Wolf about him, and he told me to feel him out. I did. The night he met with the four of us, I was supposed to give him a phone. I guess the Wolf had done some research on him in the meantime and didn’t like what he found out. And...well, you know what happened next.”
“Give it to me from your point of view. The five of you were seen walking along Eaton Street from Duval. You were ahead of the witnesses. Then you turned and went back the way you’d come,” Dallas told him.
“Yeah. When we were walking down Eaton, I got a call to circle around. When we got close to Duval the next time—” Billie broke off. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know. I was scared to death when the guy came up behind us. All I remember after that was someone shouting run, so I ran. I ran like a jackrabbit.” He was trembling as he spoke.
“You heard from the Wolf after that?”
“Yeah,” Billie said dully. “Yeah. I got a call. It said I had done a good job, and that I’d get a bonus.” He let out a mirthless laugh. “Blood money, I guess.”
Liam had handed Dallas a file, and now he opened it slowly, taking out an eight-by-ten picture of a beautiful young Latino woman. He put it down in front of Billie.
Unless the guy was really good, the picture meant nothing to him.
“Is she dead, too?”
“We don’t know. Do you know her?”
Garcia looked up at him. “I’ve never seen her. Who is she?”
Dallas shrugged. “If you haven’t seen her, it doesn’t matter.”
Billie looked up at him. “I really hope she’s not dead,” he said.
Dallas believed him. He didn’t think Billie was the diver who had killed Yerby. He wished he were, that he had gotten somewhere on this damn case. “What about your boat?”
“What about it?” Billie asked. He looked genuinely confused.
“Did you have it out recently?”
Billie shook his head. “No—oh, man, you think I killed that woman, the diver. That wasn’t me. I swear it. I haven’t even been at the dock in over a week.”
“Who knows you have a boat?” Dallas asked him.
Billie shook his head, looking cornered and beaten. “Everyone. Everyone knows I have a boat.” Now he looked genuinely frightened.
Dallas noticed and almost felt sorry for the guy. “They’ll keep you in a safe house tonight,” he said. “And while you’re there, try to think of anything—anything at all—that might help us. Your life depends on it.”
Billie nodded and dropped his gaze. After a long moment he looked back up at Dallas. “I knew that people died. But only people who deserved it. People who didn’t listen to the Wolf. People who were thieves, too—and worse. People like me. I figured this guy, Jose, was just another no-gooder who wanted more than what he was going to get. But then...”
“Then?”
“That girl who died on the dive...she didn’t just drown. There’s a guy—Machete, they call him—he’s the enforcer down here. I’m pretty sure if you can figure out who Machete is, you’ll have your killer. Her killer, anyway.”
“Why did the Wolf want her dead?”
“To make an example of her. To keep anyone else from talking. She was with that group staying at the Siren of the Seas. Kill her, and if one of the others thought of something, well, they’d think twice about calling the authorities. Murders cover up murders.”
“Did Machete kill Jose?”
“I think so,” Billie said. “But I don’t know.”
“What did you really see that night, Billie?” Dallas asked.
“A guy—a big guy.”
“Did you see his face?”
“He was wearing a hoodie. I couldn’t see a thing under that.”
Back to basics, Dallas thought wearily. He knew more than Billie, in fact, since he knew the guy he was looking for probably had blue eyes.
He glanced at his watch and was shocked when he saw the time. Time to go.
As he rose, Billie gripped his arm. “You won’t—you won’t let them put me in gen pop, right?”
Dallas shook his head ruefully. The Wolf didn’t pick the bravest or the best, he thought.
But then, the Wolf didn’t care. His people were expendable.
“For tonight, no one will know where you are. You’ll be protected. And I don’t care how many people the Wolf has, the man doesn’t command an army. You’ll be safe. There will be two officers with you at all times.”
“That’s just it,” Billie said, looking up at him. “Cops don’t get paid that much. How do you know one of the cops isn’t in on this?”
* * *
Valeriya Dimitri tied the plastic handles of the garbage bag and headed for the kitchen door. She’d barely stepped outside when she felt rough hands on her shoulders, pulling her back into the shadows of the carport. The hand over her mouth was massive; she couldn’t breathe, much less scream.
A voice, a harsh whisper—sandpaper scratching the air—spoke to her.
“What did you find?”
She was so terrified she could barely stand, but she needn’t have worried. The man was strong. She wasn’t standing on her own at all. He was holding her up.
He shook her until she thought her neck would break.
“What did you find?” he repeated.
What did she find? What was he talking about?
Oh, Lord, she should have known!
She’d been left money at the house—“tips” that were far larger than anyone left a maid. Money—and cryptic little notes.
Actually, they’d been scary notes.
She should have known better than to accept the money. She should have known there would be a price to pay. Even in the United States, nothing was free or easy. And she should have been smart enough to know that. Maybe she had been. Maybe she’d forced herself to be blind because she wanted things to be good—even when she’d known something wasn’t right.
There was no way she could answer him. He seemed to realize that, but before he eased his hold on her mouth he told her, “I can snap your neck in an instant and be gone before your body hits the ground.”
His hand eased far enough away for her to draw a deep breath, then try to stutter out an answer.
“F-find? I don’t know what—”
“You went in to clean today. You were there a long time. An FBI agent walked you home. There’s only one reason for that. You know something. So I repeat—what did you find?”
She tried to shake her head in denial.
He repeated the question yet again, shaking her harder.
“I didn’t find anything. I got hurt making the bed. She made me sit. Hannah made me sit. And then they made me wait.”
“You’re a liar,” he said, and she felt his grip tighten.
“I’m not a liar.”
“Your mother and your baby are just inside,” he reminded her. “You don’t want anything to happen to them, do you?”
Valeriya thought first about her baby. Kirin. He was just a year old, stumbling around and staring at everything with his big eyes and happy smile. She would gladly die for her child. This man knew it. And her mother! When Valeriya’s husband had died of a sudden heart attack before they’d left for America, it was her mother who had held her up.
“I would tell you if I knew. I would tell you anything!” she sobbed.
“You get back in there. You get back into the Siren of the Sea, and you look until you find it. Somebody found something in there, and now you’re going to find it for me.”
“They won’t let me back in! They told me to stay home until—”
“Get in. Get in again, and I don’t care how. Even if it kills you. You
get in—even if you die in the process—and your baby will live. You will get back into the house. You will find it. Or when I come back next time I will not leave you standing, and I will not stay outside your house—and I know you know what I mean. And one more thing. I’ll be watching you, so don’t think you can lie to me. I’ll see everything you’re doing, and if you don’t do what I told you to...”
His hands moved around her neck and squeezed tight, then tighter. She couldn’t breathe. Darkness punctuated by bursts of stars started to descend around her. Then she felt herself being shoved forward, and she slammed against the side of the house.
She was scared, hurting. But she was alive.
She turned quickly, but she was too late.
He was gone.
Just as if he’d never been there at all.
She closed her eyes and prayed her thanks to God.
She was alive!
She was filled with dread, but she was still alive—for now.
* * *
From never really liking guns, Hannah had become determined to master one.
She practiced with Kelsey’s Glock in the kitchen, loading it, unloading it, taking lessons on aiming from Kelsey.
Melody and Hagen were out, patrolling the grounds. Melody, in particular, was determined that she was going to find whoever was watching them.
Kelsey’s phone rang. Logan had returned.
Hannah accompanied Kelsey to the door. Looking out, she saw that Logan had stopped to speak with the officer out front. The minute he came up the walk, Hannah asked anxiously, “What happened? Did you find out anything?”
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