The old-fashioned kitchen was in serious disrepair. But there was a small pile of empty energy drink cans on the counter near the sink. The new owner had evidently been visiting his property.
The lock on the kitchen door was new, like the one on the front door. Cabot tried the knob. It did not turn.
He glanced back at the woodshed. There was no lock on it. Maybe the new owner didn’t know about the inner door.
He started back across the porch. The small flicker of movement deep in the trees stopped him cold. He had just enough time to think not a deer and drop to his belly before the first bullets slammed into the wall of the house a couple feet above his head.
Handgun. Not a rifle.
He yanked his pistol out from under his windbreaker and fired into the trees, aiming high because he could not see his target.
The return fire had the effect of startling the shooter in the woods. There was a lot of thrashing around in the undergrowth.
Cabot used the opportunity to roll off the far end of the porch, slipping under the railing. He ran for the cover of the side of the house.
There were more shots behind him but they went wild.
He rounded the corner to the front of the house and saw Virginia. She was still in the passenger seat, looking stunned.
There was a lot of open ground between him and the vehicle. He could make a run for it, but that would put Virginia at risk.
“Key is in the ignition,” he shouted. “Get out of here.”
The order broke the spell that seemed to have transfixed her. Jolted, she scrambled into the front seat of the SUV.
Cabot heard another staccato series of shots. He turned and fired into the trees again, hoping to distract the shooter long enough for Virginia to get to safety.
CHAPTER 21
Virginia cranked up the SUV’s powerful engine and drove toward the side of the house where Cabot was braced, gun in hand, his back against the wall. As she watched through the windshield, he leaned around the corner and fired another shot into the trees. He was focused on providing covering fire. For a few seconds he did not realize she was driving toward him.
She did a tight turn that brought her alongside Cabot, and slammed on the brakes. She had not bothered to close the passenger-side door. It swung open.
Cabot whipped around and saw her. He fired one more shot around the corner of the house and then leaped into the passenger seat.
“Go,” he said.
She was already flooring the accelerator.
He had the passenger-side window down now. He fired again. As far as Virginia could tell, there were no more shots coming out of the trees, but her ears were ringing from the noise of the gunshots, so she couldn’t be sure. In any event, it didn’t matter. The only thing that did matter was getting the hell away from the evil house.
The SUV bumped and bounced over the pocked and pitted driveway. She thought she heard Cabot say something but she ignored him.
She finally reached the smoother surface of the road.
“Easy,” Cabot said. “It’s okay. No one is following us.”
He spoke gently, as if he understood that she was in a very strange place in her head.
She realized there was a curve coming up and that she was heading into it much too fast. Basic driving habits took over. Automatically she took her foot off the accelerator, allowing the big vehicle to slow to a more reasonable rate of speed.
When she was safely on the other side of the curve, she remembered to breathe. She risked a glance at Cabot. He was in the process of reaching inside his jacket to holster his gun.
“Are you hurt?” she demanded.
“No. He used a handgun. Lousy accuracy over any kind of distance.”
“Wow. Lucky us, huh?”
“Thought I told you to get the hell out of there.”
“I did.”
“Not fast enough,” he said. “You stopped for me.”
“You looked like you needed a lift.”
“I did.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, with control. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
“You’re flying, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“It’s the adrenaline.”
“No kidding. But here’s the thing: I’m not having a panic attack. Lot of adrenaline, but it feels different when there’s an actual threat.”
“Not for everyone. Some people just freeze when the gunfire starts.”
She thought about that. “I had a vehicle and a job to do. That made it easier to focus.”
He looked at her. “The job being to get us both out of there.”
“All I can say is that it seemed like a good idea at the time. Are we going to mention this little incident to the local cops?”
“Not much point. Shots fired in the woods are a pretty common thing in rural country like this. We didn’t get a description. Didn’t even see a vehicle. No one got hurt. And, technically speaking, we were trespassing. All in all, a nonevent.”
She slowed her speed a little more. “I see.”
“We’re both going to crash later,” Cabot warned after a while. “That’s how it works.”
“Yeah, I have a feeling I might be looking at a particularly bad night.”
“You won’t be alone,” Cabot said. “I’ll be going through the bad night with you.”
“You know, other couples usually go out to a restaurant and maybe take in a show when they do stuff together.”
“Guess we’re a little different.”
She smiled. “You’re flying, too, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yeah.”
CHAPTER 22
“Got to take this slowly,” Anson said. “It’s easy to make the case that what happened at Zane’s first compound was a random thing. You and Virginia may have wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time. Some idiot was out in the woods, playing with his gun, saw a couple of tourists and decided to give ’em a scare.”
“Whoever it was, he definitely wanted to give us a scare,” Virginia said. “And maybe kill Cabot while he was at it.”
They were in the office of Cutler, Sutter & Salinas. Anson was behind his desk. Cabot was at the window. Virginia was perched in the client chair. It was late afternoon in what was proving to be a very long day.
She was starting to sense the oncoming crash that Cabot had predicted. She was still wired but she knew from past experience that it was possible to be utterly exhausted and incredibly tense at the same time. Still, she wasn’t having a genuine anxiety attack. When you had to deal with those on a frequent basis, you learned to recognize the subtle nuances. I’m a professional. Don’t try this at home.
“We’re not going with the random-shots-fired theory,” Cabot said. “Too many coincidences involved.”
“All right, let’s think this through,” Anson said. “First, how could anyone have known that you two were headed for Zane’s old place?”
“That,” Cabot said slowly, “is a very good question.” He turned around to face Anson. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since we left the Wallerton house. I would have noticed a vehicle following us on such a long drive. But it occurs to me that the one connection we have is a tech company—Night Watch.”
“So?” Anson said.
But Virginia understood immediately. She looked at Cabot. “You’re thinking that the killer may have tracked us?”
“Maybe he managed to hack into my vehicle’s GPS system,” Cabot said.
Anson raised his brows. “That’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think? It’s also possible that someone followed you the easy way, Cabot—just stuck a tracking device somewhere on your vehicle.”
Cabot shook his head. “I went over the SUV with a fine-tooth comb when we got back to Seattle. Didn’t find anything.”
“So maybe he was watching you,” Anson continued. “Once he realized you were leaving town, he could have followed you at a safe distance. When he saw you take the turnoff for Wallerton, it wouldn’t have required a rocket scientist to figure out where you were headed. If he knows the territory, he would be aware of any shortcuts in the area. Maybe he got to the house ahead of you and waited for his chance.”
“Okay,” Cabot said. “That’s a possibility. I think it’s interesting that he tried to take me out with a handgun from several yards away while hiding in a stand of trees. He couldn’t have had a clear shot. Either he doesn’t know enough about guns to realize that the odds of making a hit under those conditions were poor, or else he just hoped he’d get lucky.”
“If he’s the same guy who shot Sandra Porter, he may have assumed that because the handgun worked the first time at close range, it would work the second time at a distance,” Anson said. “Or maybe he just didn’t have time to buy a rifle and learn how to use it.”
Cabot went back to the window. “Looks like we’re dealing with someone who’s got some tech skills but not a lot of experience with firearms.”
Anson snorted softly. “Doesn’t give us much to go on.”
“No, but it does point to the Night Watch connection,” Cabot said.
Virginia looked at Anson. “Cabot checked out the org chart at Night Watch. The oldest employee is the boss and he’s only about thirty-five. As far as we can tell, there is no one at the company who is old enough to be Quinton Zane.”
“Doesn’t mean there isn’t a link to the past,” Anson said. “By the way, I had a nice chat with a Seattle police detective named Schwartz. He’s young, ambitious and willing to trade information. I agreed to cooperate. He is now my new best friend.”
“Did he have anything we could use?” Cabot asked.
“No.” Anson turned to Virginia. “But he did tell me that they’ve taken down the crime scene tape in your back room. If you’ll give me access, I’ll get the cleaners in right away so that you can reopen soon.”
Virginia shuddered. “Thank you.”
Cabot turned to Virginia. “Looks like you’re going to have me as a houseguest for a while longer.”
“Okay,” she said, “but I think you’re the one who needs the bodyguard. Whoever was in those trees today was shooting at you, not me.”
Anson looked at her. “What that tells us is that the bastard may have some reason for believing that he needs you alive.”
CHAPTER 23
They did takeout again for dinner. Virginia reflected on her new diet as she deposited items into the appropriate recycling and compost containers under the sink.
“You do realize that I’m not getting my customary ration of veggies,” she said.
“There was tomato sauce on the pizza,” Cabot pointed out. “And olives. They count.”
“Technically speaking, I believe tomatoes are considered a fruit.”
“We needed comfort food. It’s been a hard day.”
“This is true.” She closed the cupboard door and looked at him. “What happens now?”
“We need to talk to some of the people at Night Watch.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised to discover that the company’s HR department has warned the staff not to talk to anyone except the police.”
“Yeah, like that’ll keep people quiet. Odds are ninety-nine percent of the Night Watch employees have probably blabbed everything they know on social media. I’ll see what I can find online.”
“I’ll do what I can to help you, but we are dealing with people who work for a high-tech start-up. They’re bound to be way ahead of me when it comes to navigating the online world.”
“They’ll be light-years ahead of me, too.” Cabot sat down at the kitchen table and opened his computer. “But that may turn out to be their Achilles’ heel.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because I’m not going to try to play their games online. I’m going to track them down and talk to them face-to-face. Don’t be fooled by all those TV shows featuring criminals caught by fancy forensics and exotic profiling techniques. The truth is, most investigation work gets done using old-school methods.”
She smiled. “Because people are people, regardless of how much technology they use, is that it?”
“That’s it.” Cabot started clicking keys. “But the great thing about technology is that people who rely on it often believe they are anonymous. That, in turn, makes them careless.”
“Okay, I get that.”
“Which is not to say that the firm of Cutler, Sutter and Salinas couldn’t use someone who has some really sharp computer skills,” Cabot added. “Anson, Max and I are pretty good when it comes to finding people online, running background checks and searching the standard databases. But that’s not the same thing as being able to track the bad guys who hack into a company’s encrypted database. That’s why we don’t take cybersecurity cases.”
“From what I’ve read, catching the online bad guys is a never-ending game of whack-a-mole. So much of that kind of thing is done by pirates operating from other countries. Even if you find them, it’s impossible to shut them down.”
“That’s why we leave that kind of work to the big companies. But there will always be low-level scam artists, fraudsters, cons, extortionists and bookkeepers who finance their retirement by embezzling their employers’ profits.”
Virginia froze. “Like my mother?”
Cabot looked up, his eyes very intent. “If your mother did manage to rip off Quinton Zane, then all I’ve got to say is good job. It may have been the only justice the rest of us will ever see.”
She turned around and braced herself against the edge of the counter. “Do you think it’s possible that it was Zane who shot at you today?”
Cabot shook his head. “My gut feeling is that it wasn’t him.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Zane would have come up with a better plan—one that wouldn’t have involved leaving a body with several bullets in it near a house that he used to own.”
Virginia nodded. “As well as a witness who would have done her best to encourage the police to reopen the file on Quinton Zane.”
“What happened today was sloppy. If Zane is still alive, he has managed to stay hidden all these years. Whatever else he is, we know he isn’t sloppy.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring, but I see what you mean.”
CHAPTER 24
She awoke with the sense that something had shifted in the atmosphere. Not an anxiety attack, she concluded. Just a feeling that things had changed somewhere in her condo.
Intruder? The thought iced her nerves. Then she remembered that Cabot was in the guest bedroom. No one would get past him. She was not alone tonight.
She pushed aside the covers, got to her feet and reached for her glasses. True, Cabot was nearby, but for her own peace of mind she needed to check the lock on the front door and make sure the balcony slider was secure.
She pulled on her robe and picked up the heavy-duty flashlight she kept beside the bed.
Barefoot, she opened the door and padded out into the hall. She didn’t keep the flashlight close at hand because she was afraid of the dark. It was all about one of the basic principles of her personal self-defense program: Anything can be used as a weapon. The flashlight doubled as a very solid club. It had an additional advantage: the average intruder would not automatically view it as a threat. Flashlights looked so normal.
At the end of the short hall, the glow of a computer screen bathed the living room in an eerie light. She relaxed immediately. Cabot was awake and working. That explained the shift in the atmosphere.
She stopped worrying about the locks and continued down the hall. Cabot, dressed in his trousers and a gray T-shirt, was sitting at the dining counter. He looked up, hi
s expression concerned but not alarmed.
“Anxiety attack?” he asked matter-of-factly.
“Nope. Oddly enough.” She smiled. “I take it you got your one thirty a.m. wake-up call?”
“Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you. I was just rummaging around in some of the old files, killing time until I was ready to go back to sleep.”
“I’m going to make a cup of herbal tea. Want some?”
“Sure.”
She went into the kitchen. “Do you think we’ll be getting up at this hour of the night for the rest of our lives?”
“I have no idea. But I have to tell you that it’s nice to know I’m not alone. One thirty in the morning is a very weird time of night. Things feel different at this hour.”
She reached up into the cupboard for the box of tea. “Tell me about it.”
“Do you think you might want to kiss me again?”
Startled, she fumbled the box of tea. It tumbled to the counter. Little packets spilled out. She turned quickly and stared at Cabot. He stood in the entrance to the kitchen, watching her intently, as if the answer to his question was of vital importance.
She took a breath. “Only if you think you might want to kiss me.”
He moved toward her in his easy, gliding way and stopped directly in front of her.
“I do,” he said. “I want to kiss you so badly it hurts.”
She did not know whether to laugh or groan. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
She put her arms around his neck. “Okay, that may not have come out quite the way you intended, but I think I get the picture.”
“Good, because I don’t think I’ve got any more words. Not right now.”
He used both hands to take off her glasses. He set them aside on the counter and slowly, deliberately wrapped his arms around her. His mouth came down on hers in a searing kiss that electrified all of her senses.
Promise Not to Tell Page 12
