Countdown

by Carey Baldwin

  Pamela’s eyes fluttered open. Her mouth moved silently. Rose put her ear near enough to Pamela’s lips to feel her wispy breath on her cheek.

  “Find . . .”

  “Find what?” Rose’s hands ached from clutching the bed rails.

  Pamela Jean’s lips trembled from the effort of speech. “Find Sadie.”

  Chapter 24

  Saturday

  Heritage Townhomes

  Papeete

  Tahiti Nui

  Tommy stood, concealed behind a pillar, in the parking lot outside Lilly’s townhome. He rubbed a baggie between his fingertips, relishing the soft swishing sound. The high Tommy got from heroin was strictly vicarious. Not since he was a boy, not since the day Sadie overdosed them both, had the deadly dragon flowed through his system.

  But he was fighting an addiction just the same.

  There had been a few times in his life, and Thursday had been one of them, when the only thing that could stop the pressure building in his brain—his mental equivalent of a junkie’s shakes—was the Big H—injected not into his blood but into his soul. This whole Rose debacle had triggered an urge that he hadn’t indulged in many, many years. And though watching Marie’s slow death had taken the edge off, he still had a craving he couldn’t explain.

  Tommy dropped the baggie back in his pocket and reached for his watch.

  He easily found the round object, its solid gold warmed from resting against his thigh. He depressed the ridged winder on his watch and the case sprang open.

  Twelve noon.

  Up until now, he’d been disgracefully disorganized.

  It was high time he became proactive.

  It was beneath a man of his intellect and education to run around reacting to the moves of his fugitive bride. He needed to take control. Though he hadn’t yet worked out every detail of his plan, he did know Lilly was the linchpin.

  Poor Lilly.

  For the daughter of a hustler she was incredibly naïve. She wouldn’t smell a con coming her way if it rolled around in a Dumpster. Of course he didn’t have to con her at all if he didn’t wish to. He could simply take her by brute force. He’d do whatever was most expedient after evaluating her comportment.

  While he pondered his options, Lilly emerged from her door, dressed in a skirt and tailored blouse, low-heeled pumps.

  Conservative.

  And not at all her style.

  Where the hell was she off to?

  He could wander over and ask, but decided against it. It was quite possible Rose had contacted her. She might be headed for a secret rendezvous with her sister right this minute.

  As she walked down her steps into the parking lot, Lilly rattled a set of keys in her hands.

  Dammit.

  He couldn’t follow in his Porsche. She’d spot him for sure.

  He hurried to the street and as good luck would have it, a cab was coming up.

  He stuck out his hand.

  The cab halted at the curb. Tommy jumped in the front seat and handed the driver a one-hundred-dollar bill. “In a moment, a green sedan will pull out of that complex. I need you to follow it.”

  “Is no problem.”

  “Discreetly.”

  “Is no problem.”

  Tommy sighed and relaxed back against the vinyl seat. Annoyingly, sweat glued his shirt to his back, and worse, the cab smelled of onions. Glancing at his feet, he noticed crumpled foil that looked to contain the remnants of a gyro. With the toe of his shoe, he edged the mess toward the corner.

  Lilly’s car rolled out of the drive.

  “Go!”

  “I go.”

  Good.

  Lilly drove exasperatingly slowly. Tommy glanced at the speedometer. Thirty miles an hour, and they were about to overtake her.

  “Back off. I don’t want her to notice us.”

  “Is this your wife, sir?”

  “Fiancée. Ex-fiancée.”

  “Do not worry. I follow her good.”

  Considering how easy this was proving to be, Tommy was beginning to regret his generosity. Any pea brain could follow a slowpoke who signaled every lane change. If Lilly was indeed going to meet Rose, she was a discredit to her family.

  He sighed.

  Rose knew how bad Lilly was at subterfuge, and she wouldn’t risk allowing her to lead him right to her.

  He’d wasted his money, but he might as well see this through.

  They arrived at the Night Star—a no-tell motel, from the looks of it.

  Tommy counted to one hundred and twenty, and then followed Lilly inside and concealed himself behind a wall abutting the main lobby.

  Lilly rang the bell. A medium-sized man of indeterminate age appeared—his only distinguishing feature, and it was a remarkable one, was a giant hair-sprouting mole on his chin.

  “Checking in?”

  “Not at this time,” Lilly said as if apologizing.

  The clerk rubbed his hand down his cheek and said nothing.

  Tommy shifted his feet. He itched for them to get on with the discussion.

  “Have you seen me before?” Lilly asked.

  “You should know more than me if you’ve been here before,” the clerk answered flatly.

  “I’m sorry.” Ah, the apology. Meek little Lilly simply couldn’t help herself.

  “For what? How may I help you?”

  “I meant do I look familiar? I was wondering if someone who looks like me—my sister—is a guest at this motel.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Non.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Non.”

  “Does that mean no you’re not sure, or no she’s not a guest?”

  “I do not think she stays here. I would remember a beautiful woman like you.” He covered his mole with three fingers and lowered his gaze. “But I am not the only clerk. Perhaps the night clerk will know. Would you care to leave a photograph?”

  Lilly’s shoulders trembled, and Tommy had to wonder if she had some idea what a man who liked the looks of her might do with the photograph. She opened her purse and closed it again. “No. I don’t have a picture. But you’ll describe me to the night clerk. You can call me at this number if he’s seen her.” She scribbled something and passed it to him.

  He took the note from her hand, touching it in the process.

  She shivered and bolted for the door.

  Back in the cab, Tommy told the cabbie to follow at a safe distance.

  Once again, the drive was uneventful, with Lilly making her way carefully back to the townhouse. When Tommy was certain that was where they were headed, he signaled the driver to let him walk the last block, just to be sure Lilly didn’t spot his tail.

  Whistling beneath his breath, he entered the parking lot of Heritage Townhomes, ready to march up the steps and set a plan in motion.

  He rounded the corner, and there on the front porch of Lilly’s place, a young man with a bicycle helmet stood waiting. Lilly climbed the steps. Tommy was too far back to hear the exchange of words between her and the young man, but he could see the change in her posture as the messenger handed her a small, rectangular package.

  The hairs on the back of his neck lifted.

  Who would be sending something by bicycle messenger to Lilly?

  The answer was obvious.

  Rose was up to something.

  What wasn’t as clear was whether or not Lilly was in on that something.

  But he had an idea how to find out, once and for all, whose side Lilly Parker was really on.

  He rubbed the aching muscle in his tight jaw. Then he pulled his phone from his pocket and called the private concierge the hotel had assigned to him.

  “Jean Claude speaking. How may I be of service, Monsieur Preston?”

  “Good afternoon, Jean Claude, I hope your day is going well. Sorry for the short notice, but it seems I suddenly find myself in need of a boat.”

  Chapter 25

  Saturday

  Hôtel De Plage Dauphin

&
nbsp; Tahiti Nui

  Spense set his stocking feet on the coffee table in the sitting area of his bungalow, and his mother, Agatha, nudged them off with her elbow.

  “Can’t a man relax in his own home?”

  “Not in front of company,” she said.

  He glanced around at Dutch, Gretchen, Arlene, and Caity. “I don’t see anyone here except family.”

  Caity reached over and squeezed his knee.

  “But I don’t want anyone to think you didn’t raise me well so I won’t put up a fight.”

  “That’s good because I don’t want to fight. I feel terrible we were out last night when you got home from your hike, and by the time we got back from our excursion, we didn’t want to disturb you.” His mother sighed. “But now I want to hear all about your treasure hunt. I know it was for the case, but did you two have fun at the waterfall? Did you find Gauguin’s Gold?”

  The question made him realize how little time they’d had with the moms. He hadn’t heard about their excursion yesterday, or even the submarine tour they took two days ago.

  Caity coughed into her hand and sent him a look that she needn’t have bothered with. He had no intention of telling the moms about either his near-death adventure or his and Caity’s al fresco lovemaking.

  Although he could throw them a bone and mention skinny dipping.

  They might get a kick out of that.

  He touched the hole in his forehead that Caity was boring in it with her eyes and thought better of it. “Not much to tell, I’m afraid. We did outrun a couple of bees. We had to dive into a stream to get away from them. But other than that . . . no big deal.”

  “How was the submarine tour?” Caity asked.

  That set off a round robin of oohs and aahs and descriptions of tropical fish. Arlene had purchased a book from the gift store that identified various species, and they passed that around. Spense’s chest expanded as he took in the room.

  It was good to have downtime.

  Even better to have family.

  But he was itching to make one last search of the room.

  He couldn’t help wondering if last night, they’d somehow overlooked a message or clue from Rose. All the evidence did seem to point to Rose having left Tahiti—the sightings had all come to nothing, and she had a fake passport and means to travel. But even if she’d run off to the Caymans, that didn’t mean she didn’t leave something behind. And no search is ever final until you find whatever it is you’re missing.

  It’s always in the last place you look.

  Arlene tapped his knee. “Seems like your mind is elsewhere. I thought Rose Parker was presumed gone by now. So I just assumed you two were done with the case.”

  Spense shrugged. “Not quite.” Then he turned to Dutch. “Did you find anything more on that woman we asked you to track down?”

  “Pamela Jean,” Dutch said. “We made a start, but like I mentioned to you on the phone, we’re still waiting for folks in Riverbend to get back to us with more information.”

  “But we’re definitely on it,” Gretchen said. “I’ll make some follow-up calls. Is there anything else you want us to look into?”

  “I think the list we gave you after our interview with Lilly and Mrs. Preston about covers it. But keep your eyes open for anything that seems off.”

  “Anything in particular?”

  “A note in the seat cushions of the rental car. A message written in lipstick on a mirror.” Caity laughed. “The truth is, even though we haven’t found anything so far, I still think Rose might’ve tried to find a way to communicate with us.”

  Agatha sat up and grabbed Arlene by the wrist. “Hold on. Do you mean like delivering a secret message.”

  “Something like that, yes.”

  Spense reached for his ginseng tea. “We’ve combed over this place already with no luck though.”

  Arlene fidgeted in her seat.

  Agatha chewed her nails.

  They exchanged a glance that Spense could only describe as furtive.

  “What’s going on, ladies?” he asked. “You two haven’t been playing amateur sleuths, have you?”

  Arlene straightened her back. “Nothing like that. But earlier this morning, a package was delivered to our bungalow for Caitlin. A bicycle messenger passed it on to a bell boy, and I guess the bell boy got us confused since we have the same last name.”

  “Mom.” Caity was on her feet. “You don’t have to explain. I’m aware we have the same last name. Who sent the package?”

  Arlene flushed.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t read the card because it’s perfectly fine if you did.”

  “It just said from Anna with best wishes for a happy wedding day. I’ve got it right here in my purse. I’m sorry I looked, but when it was first delivered I didn’t know the package was for you. What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “From Anna?”

  “Here, see for yourself.” Arlene handed over a small square box along with the card.

  “Do you want us to leave so you can open it?” Agatha asked.

  Spense shook his head. “No. Everyone’s getting excited about nothing. I’m sure it’s just a wedding gift, and you two have missed out on enough.”

  “Do you know an Anna?” Arlene asked.

  “Who doesn’t?” Caity replied.

  “But what if it’s your clue?” Agatha tugged the hem of her blouse.

  Caity went over and sat between the moms. “Then it’s our clue, and you two will have been responsible for bringing it to us.”

  “Just open the damn thing,” Dutch said.

  Perfect manners as usual. But Spense didn’t mind. He was just glad to have his brother here.

  Someone to put his feet up on the coffee table with.

  Caity untied the ribbon and set it aside carefully. Spense never understood why people did that, since they were just going to throw it out later.

  Caity took her time unwrapping the box and then folded the paper, setting it beside the ribbon.

  The moms smiled, and he eased back onto the sofa.

  “Oh, I love Laura Mercier,” Caity said, and held up a ladies’ compact. “I hope it’s my shade.” She flipped open the case and her hand halted in midair. “Spense, take a look at this.”

  She passed the compact to him via Agatha.

  Agatha’s brow worked into a frown. “I can’t say as I’ve seen a gift like that before.”

  Spense took the compact, and at first, the problem didn’t register. “What am I supposed to be seeing? Looks like regular makeup to me.”

  “It’s been used,” Agatha said with a shake of her head. “See how the powder’s just slightly worn down in the center. Someone sent Caitlin a used compact.”

  “I think you mean a stolen compact.” Caity gave each of the moms a kiss on the cheek. “I believe you really did bring us a clue.”

  “We did?” Their faces brightened.

  She nodded. “Remember the day of our cake tasting? We had to leave because Rose Parker was spotted on the beach. She stole a wallet and clothes and a makeup bag from some tourists. I bet that’s where this compact came from. Rose Parker really is trying to tell us something.”

  Caity dabbed the sponge onto her wrist and smiled. “I think there’s something hidden inside this sponge.”

  “I’ll take that.” Dutch held out his hand.

  Caity looked to Spense.

  Tomorrow was their wedding day.

  Rose Parker Preston was probably in the Cayman Islands.

  Brousseau’s team was currently out searching the area near the hives and the collapsed rope. And so far they hadn’t found evidence of tampering, suggesting it had simply been bad luck. A freak accident. There was no immediate danger to anyone—as far as they knew.

  Tomorrow was their wedding day.

  He shrugged. “I really don’t see a compelling reason not to let Dutch handle this. If Rose really is in the Cayman Islands, and everything is cool up at the fall
s . . . there’s no danger to anyone at the moment.”

  Caity opened and closed her hand around the sponge. “You’re kidding, right?”

  He hadn’t been.

  Most women wouldn’t want to be chasing a case the night before their wedding. But then again, Caity wasn’t most women.

  “What do you mean by if everything’s cool up at the falls?” Arlene asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, hoping she’d let it drop. “And yes, of course I was kidding. Let’s see what’s in the mystery sponge.”

  “Mom, can you hand me my manicure scissors? They’re in that drawer next to you,” Caity said.

  Arlene triumphantly produced a pair of delicate nail scissors.

  Caity squeezed the sponge with her fingers and carefully cut a small square from the center. Next she peeled away the foamy material to reveal a tiny black object—a chip of some kind.

  Wordlessly, Dutch pulled a laptop and a thumb drive from his brief case, then placed them on the coffee table.

  Caity handed Dutch the chip.

  “This is a micro memory card.” He narrated his actions. “I can plug it into this thumb drive, and then read it from my computer.”

  While Dutch’s fingers flew over the keyboard, the tapping was the only sound in the room.

  It seemed no one was breathing.

  A moment later, the tapping stopped, and the sounds of life resumed.

  “Well?” Gretchen asked.

  “I could use your expertise, Gretchen.” Dutch shrugged. “Spense, you and Caity should stand by, but since neither of you have any specialized cyber-crime training, you might as well spend some time with your moms. Tomorrow is your big day, and this file is password protected. I’m afraid it’s going to take me some time to get into it.”

  Chapter 26

  Saturday

  South Pacific Ocean

  Off the Coast of Papeete

  Tahiti Nui

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Lilly bent to slide a bare foot into a flipper.

  “No, it’s a brilliant idea,” Tommy answered truthfully. “But don’t put those on until we’re ready. I don’t want you slipping on the boat deck.”