by Rick Murcer
“Damn. A black widow,” said Sophie.
“My guess is that she probably cared for him, on some level at least, but she’s got something more important to finish, and she may not even realize what it is, totally. It kind of fits the profile.”
Chloe nodded. “She’s evolving from a killer-for-hire, a comfort killer, to a serial killer.”
The two Miami detectives joined them as Alex and Max headed for the garage.
“Again, what exactly does that mean?” asked Detective Swifton.
“She could be moving from the profit mode to one of a deeper psychological meaning. It happens. In women, it’s truly rare, but it happens. She may think she had a practical reason for killing—like keeping all of the money they’ve got stashed—but in truth, she’s probably starting to enjoy the process,” said Manny.
“I hope you know what the hell you’re talking about,” breathed Swifton.
“Yeah. I’ve heard that before. Let’s see if I do.”
Chapter-24
“So, what are we looking for?” asked Sophie. Then she shook her head. “Check that. First, tell me your theory.”
Manny nodded, trying to choose his words carefully. “Ruby had time to leave town a ton of different ways. Chloe and Josh think leaving town would sense, and on the surface, it does. I mean that would be the natural reaction.”
“I’ve got to go with Josh and Chloe on that one. But here comes the big ‘what if,’ right?”
“This house verifies what we think about her and her husband is true, to this point. I mean, Ruby made decent money, but Simon Hayes was a real estate agent that only sold a handful of houses a year, according to his tax returns. And according to DMV, they own a new Camaro and a new Mustang.” He smiled at Josh. “I love the databases you guys can get into.”
“Okay. I’m with you so far.”
“We already think she probably had an emergency plan for something like this, but maybe she had more than one contingency.”
“What? Don’t give me a headache,” winced Sophie.
“I kept asking myself what I would do. I know what the cops would be looking for. I know about APBs, roadblocks, security at the airports, and train stations. I know about facial recognition software on cruise ships, even if I had changed the color of my hair and whatever else I did to make myself invisible. Not to mention, just plain bad luck could get me caught.”
Sophie came alive. “Ruby Hayes is still in the area, hiding in plain sight until things cool off.”
“That’s my theory. She’s no doubt hidden or ditched the Mustang and has a different set of wheels, but I’d bet she’s not left the Miami area.”
Chloe’s face clouded. “That could mean there was another reason to stay, you know?”
“Like what?” asked Josh.
“What if she had another job to finish? I can tell you that if a contract killer stiffs a client, they better say their prayers and pick out a burial plot.”
No one spoke, letting Chloe’s words sink in. Manny knew truth had a way of getting its way, and Chloe’s statement rang true.
He finally broke the silence. “You could be right. Whoever had the cruise line staff killed might not be done.”
“She’s not only in hiding, she could be ready to take someone else out?” asked Sophie.
Manny spoke. “That feels right. And it brings us full circle, right back to the reason we’re down here. Why were Richardson and the others killed, and who’s her client?”
Again Manny wondered about how complex this situation had become—right up Argyle’s alley, but again, dismissed it. Killing from afar was not the way Argyle did things.
Damn. I have to get the psychopath doctor off my mind and concentrate on what I’m doing.
“We’ll find her and have answers to both your questions,” said Josh.
“I’m not sure about that,” said Manny. “I doubt if she has any idea who her client is. I know I’d want it that way. No mess, no fuss. Just do the job and go home.”
“So what’s next?” asked Swifton, silent until now.
“I want to go through the house and see if there’s anything that might link a hiding place to them. A key, an address that doesn’t make sense, a set of phone numbers. Everyone has a junk or a bill drawer. Let’s see what’s in that. Anything that seems out of place for an ultra-organized individual. Use your imagination. With a little luck, maybe Simon was sloppier than her.”
“I’m going with Josh. You and Chloe can team up. We’ll start in the master bedroom,” said Sophie, moving next to Josh.
Manny grinned at another surprised look from Josh. Sophie really had the license to push his button. Then he felt his grin dissipate like water in the Florida heat. His partner had set him up.
Chloe stood beside Manny. “Good idea, Sophie. Manny and I will start upstairs . . . in the other bedrooms.”
He felt his stomach dance. The two of them in the same bedroom? “Wait. I’m not sure—”
Just then, Alex emerged from the garage. “I think you all need to see this, pronto.”
Chapter-25
“Why are you calling me now? It’s too dangerous to keep doing this,” he said.
The voice on the other end was soothing, comforting. He seemed to know all the right things to say. And isn’t that what drew them together in the first place?
“Never forget that I know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve planned every detail, every conceivable response, nothing can go wrong. This final play, this stage I’ve chosen, is perfect. And he will suffer, even more than he thinks he has.”
“I get that, but—”
“No buts, no second-guessing. If you follow my instructions to the letter, we’ll both get what we want.”
He looked down at his hand and tried to stop the shaking. His fears had always led him to this type of response to stress, sometimes worse. He had never been a positive thinker, but wallowed in the shit that his so-called parents had taught him. He was never good enough, never going to amount to anything. They would tell him that the hospital must have made a mistake because no kid of theirs could look like he looked.
His parents couldn’t understand why he didn’t like the things his brothers and sisters liked. Football, track, baseball, basketball, or climbing trees were never on his list of great joys. In fact, he hated those things like cats hate water. Instead, it was books for him. Reading let him escape into a wild and thrilling frontier that nurtured the imagination that got him where he was today.
But, like his parents, his employers always underappreciated him. They harbored no respect. Hell, most of the time they failed to acknowledge his accomplishments, just referring to him in terms so general they could’ve been talking about some pet that had learned to roll over or play dead. But his time was coming, wasn’t it? He squeezed the phone so hard it made his hand hurt.
The man on the other end had told him he could make it happen, and so far, he’d been incredibly accurate.
“I know you’re right, but it’s hard for me to see the end of this thing. I trust you, but I’m not so sure of myself.”
“That’s why I’ve taken care of everything. You just need to do your part.”
“Okay. What do you want me to do about our impetuous loose end? She’s got to be dealt with.”
“I’ve left instructions on your other phone, just do what it says, and you’ll be one step closer to where you want to be.”
“What about you? I mean, when do I get to where you are?”
There was an eerie, convicting silence on the other end. Small bursts of static teased his heightened sense of hearing, and he felt the sweat trickle down his cheek. He suddenly felt the way he used to when he was a child, when he knew the old man was pissed about something he’d done or not done. He was drifting out of this reality and into the one his mind had conjured, his Land of Solitude.
I’ve gone too far, asked too many questions.
Then he heard it. The quiet laughter that brought him ba
ck from his sense of panic.
“Patience is a virtue, my friend. First things first. But I’ll see you within the week, as long as we do our parts, all of us.”
“All of us?”
“There are players in this production that don’t realize their roles are being defined as we speak. Again, just do what I’ve instructed and watch the domino effect work its magic. Then, finally then, he will get everything he has coming to him; in fact, all of them will.”
He heard another door open and then close. It was time to end the call.
“I’ve got to go, but know that you can count on me to do what I’m supposed to.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that.”
The other end went dead. He stuffed his smartphone into his pocket.
Looking in the mirror, he dabbed at more sweat and realized he could smell it. Not the perspiration, but the fear and anxiety that exited his body. Never before had anyone put this kind of confidence in him. He had no intentions of disappointing his surrogate father—not in a million years. Manny Williams was as good as dead.
Chapter-26
Argyle stood, unclothed, at the large bay window of Haley Rose’s bedroom and watched the silvery glow of the evening moon dance across the calm waves of Galway Bay. The woman had chosen wisely those years ago when she’d bought this property. He imagined she could sell it for twenty times what she’d paid, maybe more. But she’d never sell. It simply would never enter her mind. This incredibly unique woman felt a bond with the land and waters of the Galway Bay itself. Unique indeed.
I wonder what she’s feeling now?
He glanced back to the bed where she lay, unmoving, reflecting on the last two hours they’d spent together. She had been more than responsive and without any of the “special” urging his other lovers had needed. A plus for her and, unexpectedly, for him. His experience with women in what the world looked at as conventional had been limited, mostly because none of them had excited him to the point of erection. But he’d learned a few things, enough that when it came time to play the game, he’d done it. Judging by her moans and utterances, he’d done it quite well.
For her age—well, for any age—she was tremendously attractive. Her stomach flat, her breasts firm, hips as shapely as any thirty-year-old. There was no substitute for good genetics and a good diet. He now understood how Agent Franson had come to emerge so tempting. He could hardly wait for that party to start.
But the best, or maybe the worst, had come later when she was at her most vulnerable, when she trusted him the most and would have done anything to please him . . . he let her. And for only the third time in his life, he climaxed with a woman. He frowned. She had touched him where he thought it impossible to be touched. As a psychologist, he understood his mind and how it had led to his evolution, to who he was, as well as anyone. But this redheaded beauty had gotten to him, in a small way, hadn’t she? Not exactly a feeling, because that wasn’t part of him, but more like an appreciation. And no matter what others thought, he did appreciate things, in his own understanding. If his victims could talk, they’d agree.
He stepped back to the bed and stared at the woman sprawled face down on its sheets, reaching out to touch her as he ran his hand along the small of her back and down her hips. He stopped to give her cheek a squeeze. She moaned. He jerked his hand away.
“Fredrick? Are ya coming back to bed? As good as that felt, I’m sure we can manage more than an arse rub.” He heard the enthusiasm in her voice, and he was surprised to feel himself becoming hard.
“I believe you’re right, Haley Rose.” He slid into the king-sized bed and moved close.
When the time came, he’d make it easy on her. She’d brought him a bit of fun, so it was the least he could do. He scowled. That image made him briefly uneasy, and then it fled like a frightened dove. Interesting, but not relevant.
Nothing would get in the way of exacting his final revenge on Manny Williams and his band of morons. It was their destiny to die at his hands, and in two days, they’d come running to Galway, all of them. When they did, they’d run headlong into an anguish that was reserved for only the deepest of nightmares, a hell that he’d designed.
He pulled her closer. “What shall we do this time?”
“Whatever you want, Fredrick, whatever you want. I thought I might die the last time.”
“We couldn’t have that, now can we?” he said.
Chapter-27
Manny was abundantly relieved that Alex had called them into the garage. Being close to Chloe brought such a mixed bag of emotions that concentrating on the case became difficult, to say the least.
He wondered what his well-grounded daughter would say if she knew exactly what Agent Franson did to his insides. But he’d always been able to compartmentalize with the best of them. He’d worry about his emotional state later. Flipping that unique, internal switch, Manny let full-bore cop mode engulf him. They were close on this one, and they couldn’t afford to miss a beat. He wouldn’t allow it.
The six cops filtered into the garage and approached Alex.
“What’s got your scrotum so tight, and why is your voice so high?” asked Sophie.
“My scrotum’s not tight, and I always talk like this.”
“That’s not what I see and hear. I am a trained professional,” answered Sophie.
“Trained my ass. I could take a monkey—”
Manny saw that glint in his partner’s eye and knew she was at it again. She could push Alex’s button with just a thought, it seemed, but he suspected they enjoyed the bantering. It released some tension for all of them.
He raised his hand. “Let’s just stay on task. You can talk about scrotums and monkeys later.”
“All right, all right. Damn. Mr. Killjoy,” grumbled Sophie, a half grin still on her face.
Manny scanned the garage and noticed how tidy and organized its contents were. Tools lined up neatly on the wall according to size, and all seemed to be in proper order. There were no oil stains or fluid leaks on any of the stalls of the three-car layout. No boxes stacked in any of the corners and the orange workbench was immaculate, except for two small packages resting side by side. The only imperfection had to do with the large puddle of drying blood on the gray concrete floor next to Simon Hayes’s body. He turned back to Alex. “This place is sparkling; I’m surprised you found anything.”
“That’s what Max and I thought too. So we started to go through the checklist and realized that we’d have to dig deeper.” The bathroom door of the garage opened, and Max emerged pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Sorry guys, Mother Nature called.”
“You did process the bathroom first, right?” snipped Detective Swifton. “There could have been something important in there.”
The change in Max’s expression was immediate, and it surprised Manny—it was one of pure anger. He’d never seen Max react that way.
In an instant, Max was three inches from Swifton’s face. “I’ve had enough of your remarks and pissy attitude. I’ve been at this a long time, and I know exactly what I’m doing. If you are going to question anything, question why these cases weren’t solved before we got here. You and your department had shit. So let me suggest you just do what’s asked of you and stay the hell out of the way.”
Max turned on his heel and moved beside Alex.
Swifton opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, and stood staring at the ceiling. Josh glanced at Swifton. “Max is right; he knows what he’s doing.” He turned back to Max. “And you could be a little more tactful.”
Max nodded. “I’m sorry. But that ‘I hate the Feds’ thing gets old.”
Chloe grinned. “Remind me not to mess with your forensic kit.”
Manny agreed. “Could be lethal.”
Sophie shifted her feet. “I thought I was the only one who messed with the squints like that.”
“I told you we could be deadly,” added Alex.
Max rolled his eyes. “Screw all of yo
u.”
“That’d be a task now, wouldn’t it?” asked Chloe.
Max bowed his head and sighed. He then walked over to Swifton and put out his hand. “I just want you to know that we feel the same pressure you all do, maybe even more. If we miss one tiny thing, it could mean the difference between solving a case and not. We have to be on top of our game as much as you.”
Swifton hesitated, then reached out and took his hand. “Apology accepted, and if you do that again, I’ll use you for target practice.”
“Fair enough,” said Max.
Manny felt a quick surge of uneasiness as he watched the handshake. He still didn’t fully trust Swifton, but his paranoia could be kicking in, so he let it go for now.
Alex took over. “The reason we called you in here is to look at a couple of things we discovered.” He moved closer to the body of Simon Hayes and pointed at the three shots to his chest. “These were made in rapid succession. You can tell by the pattern. She obviously did it close-up because of the powder residue on his shirt and skin. It wasn’t the same weapon as the other murders. This was a smaller caliber, maybe a .25 or .32. Max checked with Destina, and Ruby did have a .32 Beretta Tomcat 8-shot listed as a backup weapon in her Carousel profile, so that makes sense.”
“Okay, so she shot him with her backup weapon. What’s the big deal?” asked Sophie.
“Do you think it means she acted on impulse?” asked Manny.
Alex nodded. “We know she had a Glock .40 issued by Carousel, so why not use that?”
“She probably would have if she were planning to kill him all along. The .40 would have been more efficient and she, in all probability, would have shot him from behind. More evidence of her instability right now,” said Manny. “So the question is, where’s the Glock?”
“You guys are the detectives. We’re just telling you what we see,” said Alex.
