“Really?” Margot gasped. This could be the break they were looking for. “Can you send me that address?”
“Yes, under one condition.”
“Yes?” she said, hesitantly.
“That you take Dex with you.”
She smiled, appreciating Adam’s care and concern for her. “You have my word.”
The sky had darkened quickly once the sun went down as Margot and Dexter drove down the long dirt road.
“I’m glad you finally agreed to take me along for the ride. Though I think if Adam hadn’t insisted, you might have left me behind.”
Margot rolled her eyes and suppressed a grin. She knew he was just teasing her, but she almost felt as if he had a right to. She should have let him know where she was going before. Then again, she hadn’t felt as if she were in any danger. That could be dangerous in and of itself though, she knew that much.
“I’m sorry—again—for not telling you where I was going. I realize it was a foolish move on my part.”
“It’s all right.” He leaned forward to peer at the weathered street sign. “I’m just happy to be doing something.”
“We still don’t know if were being led on a wild goose chase or if this lead will actually pan out.”
“Anything is better than ordering Chinese and watching reruns of Matlock or something.”
Margot grinned. “You know you love those shows.”
“Okay, maybe I do, but I still prefer to be in the action.”
“Is that so?”
He shrugged and sent a sideways glance her way. “I am mostly a behind the scenes type of guy, it’s what hackers do best, but every now and then, I like to do something remotely risky.”
“Make sure when we recount what happened to Adam, we emphasize how un-risky this was.”
“Got it,” he said with a grin. “So no ghost and goblin stories?”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Your attempt at making this a Halloween trip isn’t exactly working.”
The road curved up ahead and Margot observed how dense the trees and foliage had gotten on the sides of the road. It was dark, almost pitch black without light from the moon, and the headlights of Dexter’s truck cut thought the night like a hot knife through butter.
While she wasn’t frightened of the dark or wary of ghosts and ghouls, she had to admit it was the perfect setting for a Halloween story. She almost expected to see a headless horseman cross their path.
She wished they could have gone earlier and caught some of the sunset light, but Dexter had insisted on going under cover of darkness. Whether he’d thought it more spy-like or if he had considered the fact that it would be much easier to tell if they were followed at night, she wasn’t sure. Either way, she knew it was best to go when it was dark.
Her fingers, entwined in her lap, clenched more tightly as he took the curve faster than she would have liked. She pressed her lips tight and reminded herself that, as much as Dexter felt like a brother to her, he wasn’t. He was a grown man who didn’t need a front seat driver.
Brother. She felt her hopes deflate. Would they find his sister at Peter’s cabin? If so, how would they find her? A captive? A willing guest? Alive? Or…
No, she wouldn’t let her thoughts go there. While she had her doubts about Peter Graham, she wasn’t sure she was ready to label him a murder. He had worked for the FBI and one didn’t usually switch to being a criminal that easily. Not that it wasn’t heard of.
She took in a breath and Dexter looked over at her. “You all right, boss?”
“I’m fine,” she said with a smile. She liked it when he called her boss because it made her think he missed her shop as much as she missed him in her shop.
She was about to ask him if he had plans to come back to North Bank, knowing that answer wasn’t an easy one, when he leaned forward and pressed on the brakes.
“There it is!”
Up ahead loomed a dimly lit cabin. The windows were all covered with ratty curtains, but they could still see light coming through them. There wasn’t a vehicle parked in the area in front of the cabin but a dirt path led behind the structure and a car or truck—or SUV—could be hidden there.
Was it possible that Peter had been behind the plot to run her over? But how could that be? He had come out of the police station—though his timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Or was it possible that the men he was working with stayed in this cabin?
As Dexter pulled to a stop in front of the cabin and turned off the engine and lights, Margot began to have second thoughts. Was it smart to walk up to the door of a random cabin they knew nothing about? Or, almost nothing. They knew that it was registered to Peter’s brother-in-law.
“Dexter—” she began, but he was already stepping out of the truck.
“Come on, Margie,” he said, sounding too much like Adam.
She opened her door, her eyes darting around the clearing shrouded in darkness. She couldn’t see anything, but there was only a little bit of light coming from the cabin’s covered windows. She met Dexter around the front of the truck, the heat from the engine wafting off and drawing her like a moth to a flame.
It was cold! Why hadn’t she thought to wear an extra layer?
“We’ll just knock and see what happens,” he said, pulling her along with too much enthusiasm.
So much for a stealthy approach, she thought.
He raised his hand to knock when the sound of a gun being cocked caused both of them to stiffen.
“Don’t move,” the voice said, its tone as hard as steel. “What are you doing here?”
Margot began to turn but felt the cool metal of the gun against her skull. “I said don’t move.”
“We’re here to see Danielle,” Dexter said, his steady tone surprising Margot. “So why don't you put the gun down and tell us what’s going on, Peter?”
Margot’s mind recognized the voice the instant that Dexter said it. Of course it was Peter Graham’s voice, how had she not recognized it?
The gun didn’t move from her head but she heard Peter take a deep breath behind her. Was he getting ready to shoot? Or explain? Or—
Then the door burst open and the barrel of shotgun came into view aimed directly at Dexter.
Chapter 9
“He said don’t—” The woman’s voice, as sharp as a knife, cut off midsentence. “Dexter?”
A petite but stunning woman with golden hair came into view even as the barrel of the gun dipped toward the ground.
“Dannie!” Dexter said, taking a step forward before stopping and turning to look back at Peter, who still had the gun pointed at Margot’s head.
“Put the gun down,” Dexter said, his gaze hardening.
Margot felt the slight pressure of the cold metal disappear from the back of her head and took in a deep breath.
“That was close,” she muttered.
“Sorry,” Peter said, coming around while putting his handgun back in his shoulder holster. “But what in the world are you two doing out here? Were you followed?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dexter said, pulling himself up to his full height. He towered over Peter, but the shorter man didn’t back down. Instead, he met Dexter’s gaze with a hard one of his own. “You knew here my sister was the whole time and didn’t say anything.”
“I asked if you if you were followed. Your sister’s life is in danger and—”
“Stop it. Both of you.” Danielle stepped between them, then turned to throw her arms around Dexter. “I’m sorry, little brother. I didn’t mean to leave you like I did. I made Peter promise he wouldn’t say anything.”
He accepted her embrace with a hearty one of his own, his eyes closing in relief. Margot could instantly see the bond between them and smiled despite the cold and the situation.
“Can we take the reunion inside?” Peter said. His tone was hard but not unfeeling. Margot saw him glance around the perimeter of the open field and knew he was worried about someone seeing them. I
t seemed ridiculous, there would be no houses or people within miles, and yet his paranoia rubbed off on Margot.
“Inside would be nice,” she said, rubbing her arms. “It’s a little cold.”
“Come on,” Danielle said, looping her arm through Dexter’s. “You've got to catch me up.”
“I could say the same thing,” he said and Margot caught the narrowing of his eyes as he looked back at her. He was worried about his sister, but he also didn’t want to completely ruin the reunion. Yet, that was why they were there. They’d have to talk about the difficult things—and soon.
Danielle made a fuss over making tea for them and getting Margot a blanket. Dexter haphazardly introduced Margot as his former boss and Danielle’s smile was genuine.
“I’m glad that I get to meet you. I heard a lot about you—all good things of course—but I’m just sorry it’s under these circumstance.”
Soon they were all settled, though Margot didn’t think Peter would ever truly settle down. He appeared wound tight and kept anxiously looking toward the window as if that would give him the information he needed.
“Dannie, please, tell me what happened.” Dexter’s question came out abruptly and drew both Margot and Peter’s attention to Danielle.
Her eyes widened and she gripped her mug more tightly. A pocket of pitch crackled in the fireplace and she flinched, a testament to how tightly wound she was as well. The whole situation was tense.
“Danielle,” Margot said, looking between the woman and Peter, “I think I know part of the story already.”
“Oh?” the woman said, her eyes darting to Peter’s now as well.
“I'm sorry, but I had a friend look into your background,” Margot said to Peter. “I felt something wasn’t…right.” She swallowed but kept going. “You left the FBI and moved up here around the same time that—”
“I moved to Maine,” Danielle interrupted. “It’s true.” She looked down at the mug of amber-colored tea. “We met while he was on the task force and I had decided to defect from the gang I was wrapped up in.”
Margot looked between them and caught Peter with his gaze steadily on Danielle. She could easily see that he cared a great deal for Danielle, but there was something else there. Was it admiration?
“She was amazing,” he said, his tone and words confirming what Margot had thought she saw. “She didn’t want any part in the gang, but she didn’t just want to leave, to run away. She wanted to help. To right the wrongs she and the gang had done.”
“Once I finished my part in all of it,” Danielle said, picking up where he had trailed off, “I knew I needed to get away. Far away.”
“But you left too,” Margot prompted.
Peter nodded. “I cared a great deal for Danielle and my job wasn’t easy.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I made the move up to Maine just a few months after Danielle. It was the best choice I’ve made.”
Danielle smiled up at him and Margot felt the room flow with their mutual affection. It was a different side to Peter and she was glad to see it.
“So, I’m just, what…too much of a risk to know my sister’s, what? Dating a detective?”
Danielle’s cheeks flushed. “We were going to tell you, but then this whole thing happened and you had your own stuff going on and—”
“Stop,” Dexter said, holding up a hand. He looked frustrated. “I’m your brother. Didn’t you trust me?”
“Of course I did,” Danielle said. “It’s just I didn’t want to get you involved with…”
“With what?” Margot pressed. “What’s going on? Will you please tell us what happened? What sent you into hiding? What would make you leave without telling even your brother where you were going?”
Danielle cringed, but looked to Peter. “We have to tell them. It’s only right.”
Then Peter spoke up for the first time. “I’ve been trying to deal with this on my own, but clearly it’s not working. I think it is time to bring in help and, if you were able to find me, you’ve probably got some pretty deep contacts on your side.”
Dexter shifted and Margot wondered if Danielle had told him about Dexter’s special skills.
“Well?” Dexter said, impatiently. “Does this have to do with The Queen?”
“What? No,” Danielle said, looking surprised.
“Then what is going on?”
“Danielle saw someone,” Peter began.
“I was taking a walk, you know how I like to do that to clear my head, and I happened to look up just as a man stepped from a truck. I knew the man—would recognize him anywhere even though he’d tried to change his appearance.”
“Who was it?” Dexter asked, leaning forward.
“His name is Vlad Petrov,” Peter said. “He’s got ties to the Russian mafia and assorted bad guys like that.”
“Russian mafia? This is beginning to sound like a joke.”
“It’s no joke,” Danielle said. Her features were hard and serious. “He’s bad news. I remember Queen dealing with him once, years ago, and saying she’d never work with him again. That’s how you know he’s bad,” she said, shaking her head.
“So, why’d you run?” Dexter asked.
“Because I was afraid he’d recognize me. Or worse, was working with Queen.”
“Didn’t you just say this isn’t related?” Margot asked.
“Yes.” Danielle’s gaze turned to Margot. “At first, I thought it could be. I mean, what are the odds that he’d be here and I am here…but Peter suggested his cabin for me to hide out in for a while and then he did some checking. The Queen is still reported to be in Atlanta City without any underground chatter saying she’s leaving.”
“But you stayed here,” Dexter said, looking confused.
“Just because Queen isn’t involved doesn’t mean he still couldn’t recognize me. Besides, if he’s here, you know that something else is going on. But we don’t know what.”
“I can’t really run a search on him without setting off some major alarm bells.”
“You’re afraid that someone in the police department knows about him?” Margot asked.
Peter looked surprised. “I am.”
“It makes sense,” Margot said. “If he’s walking around in daylight without a lot of fear, there has to be some security.”
“Exactly. Something that’s making him feel safe.”
Margot took in the information and began to process it. A known criminal in town, someone connected—and yet not connected—to Danielle’s past. Margot almost getting run over. A dead body. What was going on in this town?
She looked up to ask Peter something but his gaze was on Danielle, his expression filled with compassion and worry. This was weighting on Peter and chances were good that he wasn’t sleeping much.
“We’ll look into it,” she said without thinking. All eyes turned to her. “I mean, I can have my contact look into it and we’ll let you know what they find.” Her eyes flickered to Dexter’s then back to Danielle and Peter’s. “You guys don’t have to do this alone.”
Danielle reached out and took Peter’s hand, a smile slipping onto her face and making her delicate features even more beautiful. “Thank you, Margot. I guess what Dex says about you is right.”
She smiled shyly as Peter stood. “You guys should be getting back.”
“You’re staying?” Dexter said, his frown deepening as he looked between Danielle and Peter.
Danielle stood and rested a hand on her brother’s arm. “He has his own room. He stays to protect me.”
Margot caught the sight of a slight indentation on Danielle’s left hand where a ring normally sat. It seemed as if there were a few things Danielle hadn’t told Dexter, but that wasn’t Margot’s news to spill.
“All right. As long as you’re safe,” he admitted.
“I’ll protect her with my life,” Peter said, meeting Dexter’s gaze.
They stood like that for a few seconds before Dexter nodded and turned toward Margot. “Let’s
head out.”
“What about Mitchell?” Margot asked when they were outside. Peter had followed her to her side of the truck and stood in the gap between the truck and the door.
“Who?”
“The dead body. The private investigator.”
Peter frowned. “Murphy Mitchell? I don’t know how you know that, but he’s been erased.”
“What do you mean?”
“I went to check up on the status of his case and it says John Doe, deceased, and then lists accidental head trauma as the cause. Whoever it is has written off the whole thing as if this guy never existed and if he did, that he’s no one important.”
“Which means he is important.”
“Exactly,” Peter said, nodding slowly. “I can look into it a little, but if I do too much digging—”
“You’re liable to tip someone off.”
“Exactly.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw again.
“I’ll see what we can find,” she said, looking over at Dexter talking with Danielle, who had come out to say good-bye. “Take care of her,” Margot said.
“I will.”
“Because you love her,” she said.
His gaze jumped to Margot’s, but he didn’t react. Instead, he nodded once and pushed back. “Drive safe.”
Dexter turned on the truck and Margot reached to turn up the heat as he pulled away from the cabin. His lights illuminated Peter as he wrapped his arm around Danielle and they watched them drive away.
Dexter was quiet for the first ten minutes of the drive and Margot respected his obvious need to process what they’d discovered. Not only had his sister not disappeared, but she wasn’t far from him and she hadn’t let him know where she was. Margot knew that information had to hut.
The heat finally kicked in and Margot’s cold fingers and toes began to thaw. The hum of the truck threatened to lull her to sleep, but she forced herself to stay awake. If she knew Dexter like she thought she did, he would need to process the night’s events.
Murder in Maine (Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Book 7) Page 6
