Sampson reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an enlarged copy of Alexandra Ameleon’s drivers license photo. “Look, I get it; you don’t want me screwing up your surveillance operation—narcotics isn’t my thing anyway. Either of you see this woman? She’s wanted for questioning in a double homicide and may be in extreme danger.
Bianco and Franco studied the picture. Franco nodded. “I saw her getting on the boat.”
“You’re sure?
“A doll like that—I caught a glimpse of her walking up the gangway in high heels, a bikini, and not much else.”
“Think she’s still aboard?”
“Probably, that wasn’t more than a half hour ago,” Franco said.
Sampson’s phone rang. “She’s on the move, Peter,” Janik said. “She’s checking her voicemail again.”
“Where?”
“Bridgehampton, over on Montauk Highway.”
“On my way. See if you can get a local cop over there, will you?”
“I’m on it, Peter.”
Sampson disconnected. “My lieutenant says she’s checking her phone from Bridgehampton. She either slipped off the boat unnoticed or someone has her phone. Either way, I’m out of here.” He handed each of them a business card. “Call me if you see her.” Sampson got back into his car and sped off. He pushed down on the gas pedal and engaged the lights and siren.
Sampson was intent and focused on reaching Bridgehampton as soon as humanly possible. Had he looked in his rearview mirror, he would have seen the large, white sedan following him, which was being driven by another person of interest, Thomas Sparks.
Forty-five: The Beach
I checked all the calls and messages on my cell phone. None of them were from Ax. There were calls from East Pines, the psychiatric hospital I had been released from, and there were calls from the police. The two bodies must have been discovered in my home. I was wanted for questioning. I was told to contact the police as soon as possible, and I would have, but there was something else weighing more heavily on my mind.
Where is Ax? I wondered. Why hasn’t he called? It was not like him. The first thought that crossed my mind was that he was lying low. I had seen Ax in Ninja mode before, lurking in the shadows, observing and planning strategy. I needed to feel his presence around me and know that he was all right. I looked at the locals as we cruised through Bridgehampton. Ax could have been any one of them, and I wouldn’t have known it. Why didn’t I have that brother-detector thing we had talked about? Why couldn’t I feel him when he was around? I wanted to believe that he was close by. I wanted to believe that he would appear any second, and that we were safe. I wanted all these things, but instead my heart filled with dread. Keith and Shawn had attacked me in the living room, and I never made it to the back of the condo. Could it be? Could Ax have been murdered too? I began to cry.
“What’s wrong?” Emilio asked. “Please, what can I do?”
I wanted to hold him and weep on his shoulder, but I couldn’t. My misery was private. I buried my head in my hands, crying tears of terror. Emilio rubbed my back to soothe me, but it didn’t help. “I’m so scared.”
“It’s all right,” he said, “I’m here. No one will hurt you.”
I’m not scared for me. I wanted to tell Emilio that I feared for Ax’s life, but I couldn’t, not now, not while I was feeling so much uncertainty. My nerves were raw. I had endured so much over the last few days, and it was all hitting me at once. I opened the window and breathed in deeply but was unable to fill my lungs. “I’ve got to get some fresh air.”
“Sure, sure,” he said. I could see him searching the road for a place to stop. He smiled after a moment. “We’re two minutes from the ocean. Maybe the water will calm you.”
I thought for a moment and then agreed. Emilio turned off the main road and headed south toward the water.
We found a small strip of beach that was empty. I walked up to the water’s edge and sat down facing the ocean. I drew my knees close and put my arms around them so that I could rest my head upon them.
“I don’t like to see you hurting like this,” Emilio said. He sat down next to me and folded his knees as I had. A few moments passed in silence. “Take all the time you need,” he said. “I’m here for you when you need me.”
There was so much I wanted to tell him, about me and Allie and that we were one and the same. I wanted to confide in him. Ax wasn’t around. I needed someone I could feel close to. I didn’t want to face this alone anymore. How much could I say—where to begin and where to draw the line? I needed more time to sort it out and needed to preserve our relationship if it was possible.
My stomach rumbled so loudly that the crashing of the surf could not hide it. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. When was the last time you ate?”
I thought for a moment before I could remember. “Last night.”
“You must be starving. Let’s get something for you to eat.”
The ocean breeze was soothing me. “I don’t want to move, Emilio. I just want to sit here for a while.”
“Would you like me to run back to town and get you something? I can be back and forth in ten minutes.”
I turned to him. “You’re a sweet man.”
“No, it’s nothing,” he insisted. “We can eat right here looking out at the water. What could be nicer? Will you be okay if I leave you alone for a few minutes?”
It took a moment before I replied. We’re safe here, I thought. I nodded. “Thank you.”
Emilio smiled back. He moved a few strands of hair that were blowing across my face, and then he kissed me on the forehead. “Be right back.”
~~~
Sampson was making his third pass through the town of Bridgehampton before he picked up the phone and called for help. “Has she been back on the phone again, Lieutenant? I don’t see any sign of her.”
“No,” Janik replied. I set up a road block east and west of town.”
“There are hundreds of small roads out here. She could be anywhere. How many men does the Bridgehampton Police Department have?”
“Not nearly enough, Peter. We’ll have to bring in additional men from the state police department and neighboring areas. Let’s hope she pops up.”
“Yeah, let’s hope.” Sampson disconnected and continued to cruise Montauk Highway, hoping to see her. With each passing moment he knew the chances of finding her grew less and less. He had almost acquired her at the Sag Harbor Marina only to have the opportunity slip through his fingers. He pounded the center console with his fist. “Come on. Where is she?” He parked his car and pulled out the enlarged drivers license photo. He was determined to show it to everyone on the street.
~~~
I kicked off my shoes and walked into the water, not deep, just up to the knees. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes so that I could relax. I rested for a few moments with my eyes closed and the tide rising and falling on my legs. I looked down at the water. It was still for a split second, and I was able to catch a glimpse of my reflection. I had reverted back to my natural state. I was Lexa again.
The wind was coming in faster and bringing clouds that blotted out the sun. The gulls sensed the change as well. They began squawking and circling in the air. The water felt cold at first, but I got used to it quickly. I felt the sandy bottom squish between my toes. I was still searching for an answer, but cleverness seemed beyond me for the moment. If only a revelation would present itself. I was facing out to sea when something felt wrong. A chill ran through me, and I knew that I was no longer alone.
“You’re pretty resourceful for Suffolk County trailer trash.”
It was Sparks’ voice. My heart knocked so hard that I thought I had cracked a rib. It took a moment for me to find my voice. “Just shoot me,” I said without turning around.
“In the back? What kind of guy do you think I am? Turn around.” I turned to face him just as he snapped a silencer onto his gun. I could see his big, white sedan parked beh
ind him on the bluff up above the beach. I could just make out the hum of the running engine. “Noises echo like crazy out here,” he said as he admired the silencer. “Is he dead?”
I didn’t know who he was talking about at first, but then it hit me. “I did it.” I had only put Hernitos to sleep, but I had no reason to tell Sparks the truth. I could never kill anyone intentionally. I was capable of many things, but not that.
“All right, let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“Wherever I want to take you. You’re a useful commodity. I’m not finished with you just yet.” He picked up my shoes and held them out toward me. “Now!”
Not this time! I turned and dove into the water. I held my breath and swam beneath the surface for as long as I could, surfacing when I could no longer hold my breath. I was on the surface now and swimming with panicked strokes while he matched my progress on the shore. Something whizzed by my ear. It didn’t register at first, but then something stung my arm, and I realized that I had been shot. It took all the strength out of me. I was floating in the water, trying to find the courage to push forward when I felt his hand grab my arm. The surf had pushed me closer to the shore, and he was able to wade in and grab me. He held me tightly as I staggered out of the water. I could see blood running down my arm.
“You son of a bitch,” he swore. “Walk!” he demanded. “Walk!”
He dragged me up the beach in the direction of his car. He was too infuriated to look at me.
“I’m going to be sick.” I bent over, heaving, forcing him to stop.
“Jesus, what now?”
He had no choice but to give me a moment to recuperate. I milked it as long as I could. I exploited the opportunity until he lost his patience. He grabbed me by the shoulder and forced me to stand upright. I was waiting for him with the hypodermic needle in my hand. I had it in his neck before he knew what had happened. His eyes filled with horror as he staggered backward with the emptied syringe still hanging from his neck. “You bitch!” He could barely manage the words. He dropped his gun. I saw his outstretched hands shaking. He clutched at his chest and dropped to his knees. His mouth opened wide as he struggled for air, and then he fell, face first, onto the sand. I pulled the hypodermic syringe from his neck and threw it into the water.
I stood over Sparks’ body for minutes, hoping for relief and closure. I wanted to feel as if the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders, but I didn’t. I was so angry. He was dead, but that wasn’t enough. I kicked him as hard as I could, and he rolled over on the sand. His face was locked in spasm and would bear that look of horror forever. I continued to stare at his face. As I did, a memory sprang to mind. I realized that I had seen his face before the night he abducted me from my home. I had seen him through the glass entranceway door the day I went into Manhattan to meet Emilio. It was the day I surprised Emilio in his office. Sparks had been looking out toward the office lobby. I had only seen him for a second before he disappeared.
How had Sparks found me? He appeared the moment Emilio left to get food. In that moment, I understood that I had been betrayed. I was alone and could never trust Emilio again. The thought sickened me. I had such intense feeling for him. I had been prepared to be Allie for eternity if it meant being with him. I just couldn’t believe it. Thank God I didn’t sleep with him.
I heard the sound of Sparks’ car more clearly as it idled up on the bluff above me. I looked up at the large, white sedan. I was a pretty fair distance away. All the same, I was able to recognize the face of the man sitting in the driver’s seat. It was Ax.
Forty-six: I Thought I’d Never See You Again
Ax stepped from the car when he saw me coming up the hill toward him. I hugged him. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Easy, easy,” he said, “You’re trembling.”
“I didn’t know what happened to you. I thought, I thought you might be dead. I thought Sparks killed you too.”
Ax looked down at the beach. “Is that Sparks?”
I nodded.
“He got what he deserved. I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time to help you. You were very brave.”
“I tried to be like my brother.” My throat tightened, and I began to cry.
Ax looked at his hand. It was bloody from where he had been holding my arm. “You’re bleeding.”
I looked at my arm. “I think the bullet just grazed me.”
Ax examined my arm. He tore the sleeve off of my shirt and made it into a bandage. “I think the bleeding stopped.” He glanced back at Sparks. His eyes were filled with contempt as his hands curled into fists. “I wish I had—”
“It’s over now, Ax. He’s dead.”
Thunder boomed nearby. I looked up at the sky as storm clouds gathered.
“The police are looking for you,” Ax said. “We have to go, now before it’s too late.”
“No, it’s all right. I can tell them now. We didn’t do anything wrong. It was Sparks.”
“Sparks didn’t kill Vincent. I did.”
I thought it was over, but it wasn’t. We had killed a man, and the misdeed would follow us forever. “You’re right; we have to go.”
“But where?”
I was hoping for a revelation, some kind of miraculous sign from God that said, “this is what you should do,” but God did not bless us with any inspiration.
I heard voices. When I turned around I saw two men down on the beach below us. It was Emilio and someone I had not seen before. They were examining Sparks’ body. I was now responsible for another death. All told, I had seen four men lose their lives. Sparks was a monster. No jury would convict me of his murder, but now was not the time for explanations. I needed an opportunity to reflect and to compose myself. Without thinking, I pushed Ax toward the car, got in, and closed the door.
Forty-seven: This Explains a Lot
Sampson stood next to Bolan on the beach. He had just checked the body for a pulse. “Who is this?”
Bolan clutched his chest. He was staring at the body with an expression of misery on his face. “It’s Tomaso Chispa; he’s an attorney with my law firm.”
“It’s not Thomas Sparks?”
Bolan looked at Sampson for an explanation.
“We’re looking for an attorney named Thomas Sparks. I thought this might be him.”
Bolan shrugged, indicating that he was lost.
Sampson checked the body for personal effects. He found a wallet and went through it. The name on the drivers license confirmed the name Bolan had just mentioned. “Are you sure this is where you left her?”
“Yes,” Bolan replied. “Perhaps ten minutes ago. I drove back into town to pick up some food. I had just gotten there when you stopped me for questioning.”
Sampson was staring at the Glock automatic weapon with the plastic silencer attached to the barrel. “This explains a lot.”
Bolan followed Sampson’s gaze. “The gun?”
“Yeah, I’m investigating a double homicide, and the murder weapon was a Glock 21 with a plastic noise suppressor just like this one.”
“So this is the murder weapon?”
“No, we have the weapon used in the double homicide. It was left behind to make it look like a murder-suicide, but a disposable noise suppressor for the Glock 21 is pretty rare. I’m guessing it was Chispa’s weapon of choice. Any idea why an attorney with your law firm is running around Suffolk County killing people and taking women captive?”
“I assure you, Detective, I have no idea, but now that I think of it, the word chispa means sparks in Spanish. The translation of Tomaso Chispa is Thomas Sparks. It never occurred to me until now.”
“Fantastic! Now all I need is to find a missing woman.” Sampson’s gaze shot upward at the sound of a closing car door. He turned to Bolan and pointed in the direction of a white sedan. “Is that her?”
The car was a good distance away. Bolan strained his eyes to see. His shoulders slumped. He blew out a sigh. “Yes, detective, I
think that’s her.”
The sedan’s tires chirped as it lurched forward and gathered speed.
“Do you know where she’s going?” Sampson asked.
“No, no I don’t.”
“Stay here,” Sampson said. He was already running back to his car. “I’ll send a backup unit.”
Sampson was in his car and about to crank the engine when the white sedan raced down the block and shot past him. He craned his neck trying to read the license plate, but the car was moving too fast. He looked up at the corner street sign, pulled out his cell phone, and called Suffolk County dispatch as he started the car and threw it into gear. “This is Detective, Peter Sampson. I am in vehicle pursuit and require assistance.” He could see the sedan a few blocks ahead as it turned and vanished to the left.
“This is dispatch, can we have a vehicle description, Detective Sampson?”
“White Buick Sedan.”
“Plate?”
“Don’t know.”
“What is your location?”
Sampson floored the accelerator. “I’m in the town of Bridgehampton. One second. I’m looking for a landmark.” He raced down to the nearest intersection and read the street sign. “Heading west on Mecox Road south of Montauk Highway.”
“Checking for the nearest available unit . . . All units are assigned, Detective. There’s nothing available at this time.”
“I’m chasing the individual that your units are looking for,” he said with exasperation in his voice. “Ask them to reassign some units.”
“Checking with the watch commander, Detective. Please hold.”
Jesus, what a circle jerk. Sampson was now on Mecox Road. He could see the white sedan up ahead. “Hurry up, hurry up.” He banged his open palm on the steering wheel. “We have to catch her before she gets to Montauk Highway.”
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