Trailing a Killer

by Carol J. Post

  Erin didn’t respond. Silence was better than the “I told you so” she’d promised to give him.

  He heaved a sigh, frustration coursing through him. “I feel like I’m carrying around a tracking device.”

  “When he tried to run you off the bridge, he probably followed you from Pine Island.”

  “But I was watching.”

  “It’s not that easy to spot a tail if traffic is heavy enough and they don’t get too close. Maybe he does know what kind of vehicle you’re driving now. After you wrecked your truck, it was logical you’d show up at one of the car rental businesses. There wouldn’t have been that many to check.”

  “If that’s the case, why didn’t he just follow me home?”

  “You didn’t go home. You had appointments. It would’ve been too obvious if he’d followed you to every stop. He apparently doesn’t know where you live, but he’s got your connection to Pine Island. There’s only one way on and off, and it runs right through Matlacha. With shops lining both sides of the road, do you know how easy it would be to find a spot where he could blend in but still see everyone who came onto the island? That means you need to stay away from here. No argument.”

  He nodded. It had been more than a decade since anyone had told him where he could and couldn’t go.

  It didn’t matter. From now on, he’d listen to Erin.

  FOUR

  Erin paced her living room, phone clutched in her hand. Alcee’s head moved slowly back and forth, brown eyes tracking Erin as she paced. She’d been trying off and on for the past half hour to call Cody and kept getting his voice mail. Why wasn’t he answering his phone?

  Last night, hearing the roar of the engine and the squeal of tires had just about put her in cardiac arrest. Cody had barely escaped with his life. He’d dived clear just as the car zoomed past, almost clipping the rear bumper of the Acura.

  Whoever was after him wasn’t likely to give up until police could apprehend him. Or until Cody was dead.

  Now she couldn’t get a hold of him and was about three seconds away from making the twenty-minute drive from Fort Myers to Cape Coral to check on him.

  She snatched her keys and purse and headed for the door. Before stepping outside, she tried the call one more time. Cody answered on the first ring.

  “Where have you been?” She didn’t try to soften the accusatory tone. He’d worried her half-sick.

  “In the shower. I’m allowed, right?”

  “For thirty minutes?”

  “Almost. I’m a little sore. Someone keeps trying to kill me.”

  “Which is why you need to answer your phone.”

  In the span of silence that followed, a nudge from the rational part of her brain said she was being unreasonable. Unfortunately, her heart wasn’t listening.

  When Cody spoke again, his tone was teasing. “Do you worry about all your witnesses this much, or am I special?”

  “This isn’t personal. I’m responsible for your safety. Not officially, but I’d like to keep our only witness alive long enough to catch this guy.”

  She winced. Did I just say that? “I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”

  The truth was, it was very personal. And Cody was special. One of a kind. If she could ever let down her guard enough to trust a man, it would be with someone like Cody. But the walls around her heart were too thick, set solidly in place a decade ago and shored up with each year that had passed since.

  “It’s all right.” All teasing was gone. “I’m sorry I scared you. From now on, I’ll text you if I’m going to be unreachable.”

  Why did he have to be so perfect? Her chest clenched, and she was struck with a sudden urge to cry. What was wrong with her?

  Nothing was wrong with her. Over the past minute and a half, she’d experienced the full gamut of emotions—from worry to the point of panic, to massive relief. No wonder she was a little off-kilter.

  “Thanks.” She drew in a stabilizing breath. “How are you feeling?”

  “My whole body’s sore, but nothing’s broken that wasn’t already, so I’ve got a lot to be thankful for. And by the way, thanks for not saying ‘I told you so.’”

  She smiled. It had required a lot of effort. She’d had to take several deep breaths and clench her fists to keep from wrapping her hands around his throat. But Cody had looked so shaken. Besides, she’d been as upset at herself as she’d been at him. She should never have let him talk her into going to Matlacha.

  “I had a nightmare.” His words cut into her thoughts. “Do you ever have those dreams where you’re trying to run away and your legs won’t move?”

  “Yeah, all the time.”

  “I saw headlights, heard the squeal of tires. Unlike what really happened, the car in my dream was far away. I had plenty of time to escape, but my legs were stiff and my feet seemed glued to the pavement. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t move more than an inch at a time. I woke up in a cold sweat just as the car hit me.”

  “That’s rough. I hope you don’t have any more.”

  She’d had her fair share. Was still having them. Sometimes they were just rehashed memories. Other times her mind used past terrors to write new scripts. Regardless of where they came from, she awoke with a scream clawing its way up her throat and a dog pawing her chest. Alcee was always there for her, no matter how often the nightmares came.

  “What are your plans for the day?” She hoped they didn’t involve leaving his house.

  “I’m returning phone calls and working on estimates and paperwork this morning. This afternoon I’m going to a customer’s house.”

  “Not alone.”

  “No. My electrician’s coming over, and we’re heading there together. It’s the only job I still have in progress from before the storm.”

  She frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you going out, especially after what happened last night.”

  “I went near Pine Island last night. I won’t today. I’m not comfortable with the situation, either. But I’ve got bills—a mortgage, a truck payment. I’ve got to eat. I can’t just not work, and I’m not a big outfit like Donovan Development, with managers and construction superintendents and people I can leave in charge while I disappear for a while. I’m pretty much a one-man show.”

  She heaved a sigh. She didn’t like it, but she understood. If she had to walk away from her job, her measly savings would dwindle to nothing in a hurry.

  “Let me know when you’re leaving and when you expect to be back.” That way she wouldn’t be worrying about him as many hours.

  “Will do. How about you? What are your plans for the day?”

  “Mimi’s being released from rehab this morning, so I’m taking her and Opa home to their place in LaBelle and getting them settled in. Then I’m going to see Jacob Whitmer, your grandfather’s landlord.”

  “I hope it’s fruitful.”

  After saying her farewells and leaving Alcee with her neighbor, she headed toward the Fort Myers Rehabilitation and Nursing Center in her RAV4. A half hour later she walked from the facility, both of her grandparents in tow, then stopped next to their vehicle. Opa had stayed the past two months with a widowed friend, so his clothes and personal items were already inside, packed in anticipation of bringing Mimi home.

  While Erin loaded her grandmother’s walker and suitcase into the back, her grandfather opened the front passenger door and helped Mimi in. The red Cube wasn’t a typical ride for folks nearing eighty, but there was nothing typical about her grandparents. Opa with his long hair, usually pulled back in a ponytail, and Mimi in her long, flowing skirts, they were throwbacks from the hippie era, but without the drugs.

  Until settling in LaBelle, they’d spent the past thirty years in an RV, ready to take off whenever the whim struck. It was a mystery how the two of them produced a man like her father—methodical and organized, unwil
ling to take risks unless he could control the outcome.

  After her grandfather slid in behind the wheel, Erin met him at the open driver door. “I’ll follow you guys.” The first stop would be the grocery store. After two months away they had a lot of restocking to do.

  Opa nodded. “Thank you, Pumpkin.”

  Erin smiled at the nickname. No matter how old she got, she’d never outgrow Mimi and Opa’s pet names for her.

  Erin’s childhood had been nothing like Cody’s. Never once had she doubted her parents’ love for her. Her father was an engineer who ran a tight ship but worked hard to provide a good home. Her mother was a stay-at-home mom who insisted she didn’t mind the fact that every step she took had to be cleared with her husband.

  As good as her parents were to her, Erin had known since preadolescence that she’d never be happy following in her mother’s footsteps. Mama never complained but always seemed like a bird who’d had its wings clipped. Erin’s main role models had been her hip, exciting grandparents who epitomized the concept of freedom.

  Instead of turning the key, Opa sat for several moments, lips pressed together.

  “Opa?”

  The word was German, but neither Erin nor her grandparents had German in their ancestry. When Erin was young, Opa had been her version of Grandpa. The name had stuck.

  Mimi leaned forward to talk around him. “Your grandpa’s afraid I’m not ready to be on my own.”

  Erin had the same concerns, just hadn’t voiced them. Mimi had progressed well in rehab, the stroke’s only effects a slight limp and some unsteadiness. It was the latter that had Erin worried.

  “Would you feel better if you spent a few days with me?” She certainly would.

  Mimi shook her head. “We don’t want to intrude.”

  “It’s no bother. You’ll have your own space in the mother-in-law suite, but I’ll be there if you need help. Consider it a practice run for being on your own.”

  When she’d bought the house four months ago, it was the attached mother-in-law suite that had sold her on the place. With her parents wrapped up in their lives in California, she’d planned for the possibility that she’d need to care for Mimi and Opa eventually.

  The next several moments passed in tense silence. Finally, Mimi gave a sharp nod. “One week max.”

  Erin closed Opa’s door with a sigh of relief. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Her grandparents were two of the most important people in her life.

  After getting them settled into the mother-in-law suite, she headed out. Her first task would be showing Cody’s composite to Whitmer.

  When she arrived at the CPA firm, the receptionist led her to the office at the end of the hall. Whitmer stood just inside, arms crossed.

  The tightness in his jaw matched the stern pose. “What now? I just talked to one of you guys yesterday.”

  He hadn’t appreciated being their primary suspect. Having police search his home and office probably hadn’t gone over well, either.

  She pulled the composite from the envelope and handed it to him. “We think this is the man who set the charges that brought your apartment building down. Do you have any idea who he might be?”

  The annoyance fled his face. He took the sheet from her and studied it, brow creased. Finally, he looked up.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t. I wish I could help. I want to catch this guy as badly as you do.” He handed the sketch back to her.

  “If you think of anything that might help us solve this, please let us know.”

  “Trust me, I will.”

  She slid the picture back into the envelope. Something niggled at the back of her mind, bothering her on a subconscious level. She turned toward the door, then spun to face him.

  Whitmer had said someone from the department had called him. After the search warrant was executed Monday night, Whitmer had been cleared of suspicion. So who had gotten in touch with him yesterday afternoon?

  “Do you remember the name of the person who called you yesterday?”

  “Detective Roland.”

  She drew her eyebrows together. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. I have a client by that name, so it’s easy to remember.”

  She shook her head. There wasn’t any Detective Roland working for Lee County. Maybe it was someone from the Bureau of Fire, Arson and Explosives.

  “What did this Detective Roland want?”

  “He wanted David Farnsworth’s emergency contact information.”

  David Farnsworth, Cody’s grandfather. A block of ice lodged in her heart. “Who was his emergency contact?”

  God, please don’t let it be Cody. Anybody but Cody.

  “His grandson. Cody Elbourne.”

  Slivers broke loose and moved through her veins. “What kind of information do you have on him?”

  “Name, address, phone number.”

  “Did you give it to the caller?”

  “Of course I did. I’m being cooperative, in spite of the earlier harassment.”

  Without an explanation, she ran from his office, one hand fishing for her phone.

  “Ma’am?” The words trailed her down the hall, but she didn’t slow down. When she exploded into the lobby, she almost plowed into the receptionist who’d risen from her desk and was crossing the room, maybe headed to the coffee maker.

  Phone in hand, Erin mumbled a “sorry” and hit the door at a full run. She needed to let someone at the department know. Cody needed around-the-clock protection. No, the first call had to go to Cody. She needed to warn him. She hoped it wasn’t too late.

  Because there was no Detective Roland. Not with Lee County or the Bureau of Fire, Arson and Explosives. There was only a killer determined to eliminate his only witness.

  Now he had Cody’s name and phone number.

  And knew where he lived.

  * * *

  Cody’s phone buzzed against the desk in his living room, notifying him of an incoming message. Leroy, his electrician, was a block away, waiting at a traffic light. Cody rose, pocketed his phone and picked up his keys.

  He’d spent the morning finishing up estimates, responding to emails and returning calls. He hadn’t even stepped outside. Erin would be pleased.

  But he couldn’t stay cooped up forever. Bill and Candy Hutchinson were waiting. He’d started their job several days before the storm, a master suite expansion. He’d gotten it weathertight before the hurricane brought everything to a screeching halt. His subcontractors were as overloaded as he was.

  The next phase of the project would be getting it plumbed in and the electrical run. Leroy had a short block of time this afternoon to squeeze in the appointment. He could read blueprints, but meeting in person would give Cody the opportunity to introduce Candy Hutchinson to one of the men who would be tromping around her home and ensure there were no misunderstandings.

  Cody rolled up a set of blueprints and walked to the front door with them tucked under his arm. Leroy would be pulling in at any moment. Normally, Cody would meet him at the job site. That was no longer an option.

  Leroy had understood. So had Dale, the guy he used for cleanup and miscellaneous things that required a second set of hands. Over the past week Dale had accompanied him to several appointments. Cody had been surprised at the concern these two rough construction workers had shown. They hadn’t even ribbed him about needing a babysitter.

  Before opening the door, Cody peered through the vertical blind slats and glanced around his front yard. Nothing looked amiss. Of course, nothing had looked amiss the other times he’d been attacked, either. His assailant had come out of nowhere.

  When he opened the door, Leroy’s white Silverado wasn’t visible yet around the neighboring houses, but he had to be close. Cody scanned the area again, searching for threats. Clouds had begun to gather on the horizon, workin
g up to a thundershower that would likely reach them before the afternoon was over.

  The surrounding driveways sat empty. The neighborhood was typical middle class, with kids in school and most of the parents working at this time of day. A few yards from where he stood, three queen palms rose from a large oval flower bed, aloe and other succulents at their base. Between the narrow trunks, he had an unobstructed view across the street.

  Leroy’s truck cleared a house a couple of doors down and moved closer. Cody locked the front door, then fiddled with the fob until his thumb rested on the automatic start. Leroy was driving from Fort Myers to Cape Coral. The least Cody could do was provide transportation from here.

  Besides, the Acura was a fun ride with all its bells and whistles—remote start and driver assistance systems such as lane keeping and road departure mitigation. It even had heated seats. Not that he’d use them. South Florida’s temperatures rarely fell below fifty degrees in the dead of winter.

  Before he could step off the porch, his phone rang. Erin’s name stretched across the screen. He brought it to his ear with a smile and “Hey, beautiful” on the tip of his tongue. He’d had so much fun with her last night. It had almost been like old times. At least, until someone had tried to kill him.

  He dropped the “beautiful” and kept the “hey.”

  Erin’s breath escaped in a rush, making a hiss in the phone. “You’re all right.”

  “Of course I am.” He looked around again, half expecting someone to start shooting. Did she know something he didn’t? “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You need to leave.” The urgency in her tone sent dread trickling through him. “No, wait. Lock yourself inside.”

  He shook his head. “Do you want me to leave or stay? I can’t do both.”

  “Are you home?”

  “Yes, but I’m heading out now.”

  “No!”

  Cody flinched at the sharpness of the word. Erin’s panic was shaking his own confidence. “What’s going on?”