Three Days to Forever (A Mac Faraday Mystery Book 9)

by Lauren Carr

  “Named after your grandmother.” Bianca petted the dog, who wagged her tail.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Jessica said. “First your mother, and then …”

  “Thank you, Jessie. You always were so nice to me.” Bianca forced a smile onto her face and a lighter tone to her voice when she added, “I see things certainly changed for you, too.”

  Jessica asked, “Are you staying here at the Inn?”

  “No,” Bianca said. “I could never afford the Spencer Inn. I’m staying at a place in Oakland. I was hoping that your dad would talk to me … I wanted to apologize for my father.”

  Jessica grasped her hand. “Apologize? Why should you apologize to us? You’re not responsible for your parents. You lost your dad—”

  “He’s been gone for years,” Bianca said. “I really lost him the day that jury convicted Mom of killing Harris Tyler.” She sighed. “He tried to kill himself six times since Mom’s conviction.”

  “Suicide?” Jessica replied.

  “As a matter of fact, when the sheriff called to say my father was dead, I thought it was because he killed himself. But then, the sheriff said he had died of multiple stab wounds.”

  “How did he try to kill himself?”

  “Once he tried to shoot himself,” Bianca said. “But the bullet only grazed his head. He flinched. He took pills the very first time he tried to kill himself. I found him. That was when I was still living at home. He got his stomach pumped. He drove his car into a tree. He was in the hospital for close to a week with that. Had broken both of his legs.” She sighed. “He’s tried hanging himself, but the knot slipped and he fell. Broke his ankle and three ribs.”

  “All because of your mother, huh?” Jessica concentrated on stroking Spencer’s soft fur. Thinking of her own mother, she buried her face into the dog’s warm, soft fur. “I know your dad blamed mine for arresting your mother, but you know something?”

  “What?”

  “Dad truly felt sorry for your father,” Jessica said. “Being an outsider looking in, coming into the murder case, interviewing all of the suspects and witnesses, you get a perspective of things that those on the inside don’t see.” She swallowed. “Dad saw how she manipulated and lied to your father, and he felt so bad that he never realized—”

  “Never wanted to realize,” Bianca said. “To face what Mom really was meant having to admit that the state of their marriage was really only a fantasy.”

  “And since he couldn’t blame your mother for all of their problems, he had to blame Dad.”

  Tears welled up in Bianca’s eyes. “The thought actually crossed my mind that he came to Deep Creek Lake to kill your father. After they told me that Mom had hung herself in her cell, I thought he would kill himself.”

  She uttered a hollow laugh. “It’s a sad thing to say, but … after Dad had tried suicide so many times, you get to the point that you think, ‘Just do it, all ready. Just get it over with and stop screwing around.’” She looked up at Jessica. “But he didn’t kill himself. I was shocked when he sold the house to a realtor. I found out from the lawyer that he updated his will.”

  “Putting his affairs in order,” Jessica said. “That’s a sign that he was getting ready to kill himself. Maybe those previous times were practice. Now he really meant business this time.”

  Bianca nodded her head. “Dad was in debt up to his eyeballs. He had put a second mortgage on the house and had massive legal bills for all of their appeals. Well, after Mom died, Dad sold the house for a hundred and twenty thousand dollars. After he paid off all of the legal bills, he had ten thousand dollars and the gold watch Mom had given him.”

  “Gold watch?” Jessica said.

  Bianca nodded her head. “A gold one. Engraved. Mom gave it to him for a wedding present. That was the one thing he refused to sell when he was liquidating everything to pay off the lawyers. Now it’s gone.”

  “Maybe he did sell it after all?” Jessica suggested.

  “No way,” Bianca said. “He wore it all the time, and he did have it on his wrist when Chuck and I went to confront him after we found out that he had met with the lawyer to make final adjustments to his will after Mom’s death. We both thought he was putting his affairs in order and was going to try to kill himself again. But he claimed he wasn’t. He was preparing for if something went wrong.”

  “What could go wrong with what?”

  “He claimed that in Mom’s things, he found proof that Mac Faraday framed her, and he said that he was going to come up here to confront your dad with the evidence and go public with it.”

  “What kind of evidence?”

  Bianca was shaking her head.

  Jessica stepped toward her. “He had to have told you.”

  “He said I would be safer if I didn’t know.”

  “Dad did not frame your mother for murder,” Jessica said. “He had everything he needed for the arrest. It was a good arrest.”

  Bianca reached out to touch her hand. “I know. You don’t have to tell me that. I’m only telling you what Dad told me, and I had to tell Sheriff Turow that. But I know Mac Faraday didn’t frame my mother, and he did not kill my dad.”

  “Then who would want to kill your father?”

  “I think someone robbed him,” she said. “The sheriff says the watch was not in his effects, and I know he had ten thousand dollars in cash when he left home to come here. That’s gone, too.” Bianca grasped Jessica’s arm. “I’ll tell you this. If things get bad and your dad needs me, I will testify on his behalf because something’s not right.” She let out a sad laugh. “I half-believe that Mom came back from the grave to kill my dad and manipulate things to get back at your father for being the first man who didn’t fall for her lies.”

  “Maybe she did,” Jessica muttered into Spencer’s fur.

  “Jessica!” Hector snapped out her name while running around the corner. He stopped when he saw Jessica talking to Bianca. Seeming to recognize the young woman, he paused. “You were inside asking for Mac Faraday a bit ago, weren’t you?”

  “Bianca is a friend,” Jessica interjected before she could answer. “We were just talking.”

  “Well,” Hector said, “I just got a call from your father. Archie and your brother are waiting for us to go meet him at the hospital.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mercy Hospital, Oakland, Maryland

  With no regard for appearances, Donny raced across the emergency room reception area and took Murphy into a bear hug, lifting him up off the floor. “The big navy man returns!”

  Murphy delivered a playful karate chop to both of Donny’s shoulders to make him release him. Finding himself looking up at his little brother, who was a couple of inches taller than he was, he said, “Guess those days of picking on you are long gone, huh, bro!”

  “Long gone!” Donny laughed before looking around. “Dad’s okay, right?”

  Forcing a reassuring grin, Murphy nodded his head. “They’re prepping him for surgery.” Seeing worry cross Donny’s face, he quickly added, “The gunshot was a through and through. It doesn’t look like it hit any major organs. They just need to go in to clean it up and make sure all the bleeding has stopped and that he doesn’t get an infection. That’s all. He was conscious and chewing me out the whole way here.”

  “Chewing you out? What for?”

  “I blew up a house,” Murphy said with a roll of his eyes and a shrug of his shoulders.

  Chuckling, Donny murmured, “Still a bad-ass.”

  Behind Donny, Murphy watched the police chief and Mac Faraday engaged in a conversation. The two men were huddled next to the coffee vending machine.

  The situation was not good.

  Two Spencer Police Officers had been shot. While their wounds were not life threatening, it was still a blow. It meant whoever was behind the attack was serious. They
did not care who they shot and killed—even police.

  In spite of the police chief and Mac Faraday’s best efforts to appear casual, Murphy noticed their glances in his and Donny’s direction.

  Something is wrong. Very wrong. Officers Fletcher and Zigler have been listed as serious, but are expected to recover. It’s not them. This is something else.

  Replaying the events of the day, a question came to Murphy’s mind. Where did the police chief get the tip that the old woman was the real target? Agnes Douglas. Archie Monday’s mother. Where did Archie come from originally? Pennsylvania! The same place where Cameron is a detective with the state police.

  Murphy asked Donny, “Have you heard from Cameron?”

  With wide eyes, Donny shook his head while looking around. “She should be here by now. David said that she was leaving this morning, and it’s only a few hour’s drive. I expected her to be here by lunch.”

  Gently pushing Donny aside, Murphy stepped across the reception area to the vending machines. “Where’s my stepmother?”

  David and Mac exchanged quick glances.

  Displeased with their hesitance, Murphy repeated his question. “Detective Cameron Gates with the Pennsylvania State Police.” He told David, “She gave you the tip that Agnes Douglas was the target. In what context did she give you that tip and where is she now? Why is she not here? You told my brother that she was on her way first thing this morning, and now it is mid-afternoon. Chester is only a few hours away. You’re hiding something, and I want to know what it is.”

  David stood up to his full height. His eyes met Murphy’s. “You’re out of line, Lieutenant,” he said in a low firm voice. “Stand down.”

  “Why are we all talking military-eeze?” Mac asked in an attempt at humor.

  “Because this whole case revolves around national security.” David kept his gaze locked with Murphy’s. “I still don’t know what’s in that package that your dad was picking up and delivering in my jurisdiction. If you two can keep secrets, so can we.”

  “With all due respect, sir,” Murphy said in a steady tone, “Secrets dealing with national security are one thing. It’s a whole other ballgame when it comes to my family.”

  “Has something happened to Cameron?” Donny’s tone betrayed his affection for his stepmother.

  David’s eyes flicked to the teenager’s face.

  “My dad was devastated when Mom died,” Murphy said through clenched teeth. “We all were. We can’t lose Cameron.”

  “Everyone is looking for her,” David said. “The Pennsylvania State Police. The last person to see her was Agnes’ neighbor. That was about the same time that she called me with the news that Agnes Douglas was the target.”

  “Who was this neighbor, and why is Faraday’s future mother-in-law a target for a death squad?” Murphy asked.

  “Agnes Douglas was the maid for a murder victim whose case Cameron was investigating,” Mac said. “I believe the victim was killed by someone who was after this.” He removed the red thumb drive from his pants pocket.

  When Murphy tried to take the thumb drive, Mac closed his hand into a fist before he could grab it. “We found it in her purse. She claims to be low-tech. So what is she doing with a flash drive?”

  “Who was this murder victim?” Murphy demanded to know. “Where is Ms. Douglas?”

  “The sheriff has taken her into protective custody,” David said. “They’re escorting her up to the Spencer Inn to be with her family along with an army of sheriff’s deputies.”

  “With six oversized sons, the sheriff’s department, Hector’s people, and Gnarly by her side, she should be safe,” Mac said. “She claims to have no knowledge about this, and I believe her. I’m thinking the murder victim slipped it into her purse to keep whoever was after it from getting it.”

  “When they couldn’t find it in the victim’s home, they tracked it here somehow.” Struck with a thought, David tapped Mac on the arm. “Why did Agnes go to see you yesterday morning?”

  Mac shrugged his shoulders. “She just showed up.”

  “But the attack on Spencer Manor was planned.” David recalled, “When I met with Archie and her family last night, they said she was supposed to go to the beauty salon with the bridal party, but she claimed she had a headache and stayed behind.”

  “And then she came to the manor to see me,” Mac said. “Now that you mention it, she seemed disgusted when I told her that I was on my way out.” He took his cell phone from his pocket.

  “She’s always disgusted,” David said. “Are you calling Agnes?”

  “She doesn’t have a cell phone,” Mac reminded him. “I’m following up a—Gene?” He turned his conversation to the phone. “This is Mac Faraday. How are you? … Did you have a good Christmas? … You’re welcome. You really deserved that bonus. … Busy is good. It keeps you off the streets and out of trouble. Hey, can you check on something real quick for me? That message that I left for Agnes Douglas, Archie’s mother—I can’t remember when I left it—it would have been yesterday or the day before—yeah, that’s right, I called it in. Did that get delivered to her?” Turning to David and Murphy, Mac arched an eyebrow. “You gave it to her personally, huh? … Well, thank you for being discrete like I asked. I certainly appreciate it, Gene. … No, no problem at all. Just checking.”

  Mac hung up the phone.

  “What is it?” Donny asked about the significant expressions exchanged between the three men. “What’s going on?”

  “The front desk manager, who I know, and who knows me,” Mac explained, “took a message Wednesday night from me to give to Agnes Douglas to come to Spencer Manor at ten o’clock Thursday morning. I had told him to make sure no one saw him give it to her.”

  “Did I hear you say you called him?” David asked.

  “I did not call in to leave any message,” Mac said.

  David felt his breath taken away as if he had been kicked in the chest. So I wasn’t imagining things that night in Iraq. If Gene spoke to Mac when he didn’t call, then I really did hear Colonel Frost say “zombie” to give the order for the hit.

  “How is that possible?’ Mac was asking.

  “They recorded your voice and edited it to call in to leave a message and lure their target to your home,” Murphy said.

  “It sounds like Gene had a full conversation with me,” Mac argued. “He asked me things and said things and I responded—like a full conversation.”

  “The technology is available,” Murphy said, “but you have to have people trained in how to use it to pull it off.”

  “They’d have to be listening in in order to get the voice recordings?” David asked more than said.

  “One or two conversations will do it,” Murphy said. “Plus, if that front desk clerk was busy—”

  “They’re very busy this week with the holidays and the wedding,” Mac said.

  “And he wasn’t suspecting anything,” Murphy explained, “then he wouldn’t have been paying close enough attention to notice that it wasn’t you.”

  “All that to lure her to my place,” Mac said with doubt in his tone, “so that when they made the hit, everyone would assume I was the target.”

  “Or my dad,” Murphy said. “I got a report from my CO. The delivery man who gave my father the package is safe and clear. Neither of their covers were blown. She’s confident Dad wasn’t the target.”

  “Does that mean international terrorists are out of the picture then?” David said with a hint of relief in his tone.

  “Depends on what this dude in Pennsylvania was into,” Murphy said. “Contrary to what our government and the media have been telling us, they’re here in America already. You’d be surprised and sickened to know how much progress they’ve made in their war against us since those in power forgot about September Eleventh. But, not knowing anything about this guy Agnes was work
ing for, there’s no telling who or what we’re dealing with.”

  Mac noticed the color drain from David’s face. “There’s at least a dozen things this Crane guy could have been into besides terrorism. If it has to do with computers, he very well could have been into drugs, illegal arms, or identity theft.”

  “We need to find out what’s on this that’s valuable enough to kill for.” David took the thumb drive from Mac’s hand. “I’m going to lock this up in the safe in my office until I can get it to our technical people to check it out.” He slipped the flash drive into his breast pocket.

  “Give me the name of this murder victim in Pennsylvania.” Murphy took his phone out of its case.

  “Crane,” Mac answered. “Agnes kept talking about a Mr. Crane.”

  “First name?” Murphy asked.

  “No idea,” Mac replied. “Mr. Crane.”

  “Murdered in Pennsylvania?” Murphy asked while thumbing across the smart phone’s screen.

  “She’s from around Pitts—”

  “Got it. Reginald Crane,” Murphy read from the screen. “Tortured to death earlier this week. Body discovered yesterday morning. COD is heart attack. Detective leading the case is Cameron Gates, Pennsylvania State Police, Homicide Division—aka my stepmother.” One of his eyebrows arched. “She’s forty-two. I never would have thought she was over forty.”

  “Did the murderers grab Cameron?” Donny asked with impatience in his voice. “If it’s the same—”

  “Does Dad know Cameron is missing?” Murphy asked. “What have you told him?”

  “He was asking for her,” Mac said. “We just told him that she’s on her way. We didn’t want him going into surgery not knowing whether she’s okay.”

  “She has to be okay.” Donny clutched his brother’s arm. “Nothing is going to happen to Cameron, Murphy. Right?”

  “Mac!”

  Expecting his lady love to jump into his arms and give him a big hug, Mac turned around. The sight that met his eyes caused his jaw to drop. Instead of grabbing Archie and holding her tight, he stood straight in disbelief when the now dark-haired brunette threw her arms around him.