by Brenda Novak
“Hello, this is Lucy.” Megan marveled at the way her mom’s voice sounded so natural. Was this the way she sounded when she went undercover?
“Lucy, hi again. I finally had a chance to get your statements but—”
“Oh, sorry. We were starving and Megan was so upset about Mateo and that tape. It’s my fault. I never should have let her get so close to the family. Is there any word? Have you found them?”
“No. Shelly is trying to raise the ransom, but on a Sunday night, it’s tough going. She’s putting out a call to his friends and parishioners to help. And there’s been no trace of the boat, nothing we can track.”
“Is there anything I can do to help? Glad to call in some of my people, if you want.”
“I think between the state and county guys we’ve got it covered. The sheriff is going to get their helicopter with the infrared radar up for us.”
“Good idea. Listen, can you get our statements in the morning? I really should make sure Megan is okay. This whole thing has been so traumatic for her.”
Megan rolled her eyes at that but Lucy didn’t smile. If anything, she seemed more tense, increasing their speed. They were almost to the drawbridge leading off the island.
“That will be fine. If I’m not here in the morning, any of my officers will be glad to help. Take care.”
“Good luck—call me sooner if anything happens, will you?”
“Of course.” The chief hung up.
They approached the bridge. It was up. There were two cars waiting, their taillights bright against the night. Lucy slowed, keeping a generous distance between her and the other cars, at least four or five car lengths.
“There’s no boat,” she said as they finally came to a stop.
“What?”
“They raise the bridge for the tall boats, but there’s no boat.”
“Maybe it’s already passed through.”
A man left the little shack that controlled the bridge and approached the first car in line. A few minutes later it made a U-turn and headed their way. Lucy flashed her lights and the driver pulled up. She rolled down her window. “What’s going on?”
“Bridge is broken. Cable snapped or something. They’re getting someone out to fix it but not sure how long it’s going to be.”
“Thanks.” Lucy waited for the car to pass before making her own U-turn. “I think I made a huge mistake. Do you have Walden’s home number in your cell?”
Isaac Walden was Lucy’s second in command back in Pittsburgh. “No. I can call Dad. He’ll have it.”
Lucy blew her breath out. “Your dad is not going to be happy. Yeah, call him.”
Megan dialed. “Dad? Hi there! Mom wants to talk to you.”
“Megan, how are you? Did something more happen? I wanted to discuss—”
“Nick,” Lucy interrupted, “we might have more trouble here than I originally thought. I need you to call Walden, have him call me on Megan’s cell.”
No answer.
“Nick?”
Megan glanced at the phone. “The call was dropped.” She tried dialing again. Dead silence. “I had three bars, but now they’re gone.” She dialed another number. “Nothing.”
Lucy glanced up through the windshield. “One cell tower for the entire island. Easy to control. Like the bridge.” She turned the car onto a private drive on the ocean side of the island. The mansion in front of them had no lights on and no gate. The driveway was circular. Lucy pulled around so they were facing out and parked. “Okay, we’re going to have to do this the hard way.”
“What’s that mean?” Megan asked, for the first time feeling frightened. Suddenly this all felt very, very real. Life and death real. Was this how her mom felt all the time when she was at work?
“It means… are you up for a game of hide and seek?”
Chapter 18
As Lucy scouted the house, she forced herself to shift her emotions aside, although what she really wanted to do was scream in frustration. This was her fault; she’d allowed Megan to steer her away from the immediate action she’d wanted to take and now it was too late.
“Hide and seek?” Megan said, following Lucy back to the Subaru’s trunk. “What does that mean?”
“It means we’re going to find a safe place for you to hide.” Lucy opened the lockbox in the trunk and pulled out her Remington. “While I seek.”
“Mom—”
“No. This is the time when you listen, do as I say, and stop asking questions.” Lucy loaded the shotgun, intending to leave it with Megan. Then she thought twice and set it aside. Sometimes it was more dangerous being armed than not, even if Megan was an experienced marksman. “I made a mistake. More than one. And now there’s no time left.”
“All we have to do is wait them out. Dad will make sure someone comes looking for us. Plus, there are plenty of other people on this island—not like they can keep the bridge up forever.”
Lucy gave a little shake of her head. “You’re thinking like a civilian. Try thinking like a cop turned criminal, who instead of a million dollar payoff and their nice, cushy job, is suddenly forced to go into cleanup mode as they make their getaway.”
Megan stiffened, making a shuddering noise of dismay as she sucked in her breath. “Mateo. Now they have to kill him. Destroy the evidence.”
“I miscalculated. Should have found a way to play along, insinuate myself into the investigation. I don’t know. But your safety comes first.” Lucy grabbed spare ammo for her Glock.
“We need to find him.” Megan frowned. “But how? Chief Hayden could be going after Mateo right now. Should we find a way to follow her?”
Lucy was still trying to sort out the logistics. The only part of her plan that was solid was the part where Megan stayed way the hell away from all of it. “See if you can access the house’s Wi-Fi with your phone or my laptop. If I can reach Walden, I think I have a way to find Mateo.”
Megan opened the door to the back seat and began working while Lucy shrugged into her tactical vest and added the items she needed to its many pockets. Her hand hovered over the combat medic kit but instead she grabbed a spare magazine, an extra Maglite, zip ties, and her ASP baton. She needed to be able to move fast and quiet. Lucy stashed her night vision monocular in the front pocket of her vest where it would be close to hand. She wished she had proper tactical clothing instead of shorts and sneakers, but at least this time she was heading into action wearing shoes.
“If the plan was for Pastor Fleming to fake his own death, maybe he’s in danger now as well. One less witness and they could collect his life insurance,” Megan said. Not for the first time Lucy thought what a great criminal mastermind her daughter would make. “It could take years to have him declared dead otherwise.”
“Already there. If it comes to it, I’m hoping I can turn him against Hayden and his wife, and anyone else involved. But finding him and Mateo comes first. They must have a meeting place—maybe an empty house with a dock or a camping spot or coordinates out at sea to meet the boat?”
“They know you’ll come after them.”
“That’s what worries me. Stopping me isn’t enough—they have no idea who I’ve already talked to, not to mention Mateo’s family and the other local cops. Even if they frame Mateo for Fleming’s death, how are they going to cover their tracks once they get the money?”
“I got into the guest Wi-Fi,” Megan said. “Want me to text Dad?”
“Let me get the ball rolling with Walden first.” His number was in Lucy’s email contact list. She used the voice over internet app to call him. “I need you to loop Taylor in and my husband on a conference call,” she instructed after she explained the situation to him. Soon her screen was filled with Walden’s always-serious face; her best computer tech, Taylor’s impetuous grin; and Nick managing to look both relieved and worried at the same time. Her A-team.
Taylor made quick work of the data she gave him, finding a second insulin pump registered to Flemings’ account with the manu
facturer. It was always little things like applying for a rebate or warranty that tripped up most criminals.
“Taylor, can you get me a GPS reading on Fleming’s insulin pump?”
“Not without a warrant—if you want it admissible.”
“Don’t care about that. Exigent circumstances—there’s a kid’s life at stake.” Besides it wasn’t her jurisdiction or her case, so evidentiary rules be damned. Except. “If it’s something illegal that you’ll be busted for, tell me what to do and let the trail come back to me.”
His head was bowed over his keyboard and he was humming AC/DC—which meant good news. “No worries. Just give me a sec.”
She didn’t ask for any details that might get them both in legal hot water down the road. Instead, she turned her attention to Walden. “Anything on Hayden I could use as leverage?”
“I can see why she might need money. Her husband died last year, leaving a ton of medical bills. Looks like the house is in foreclosure.”
Broke public servant in the midst of all this wealth—including her own sister? Could explain why Hayden was desperate enough to go along with Shelly and Robert. More than protecting her sister, she was hoping for a way to protect the home she’d shared with her husband.
Primal forces, defending family and home. Might make Hayden dangerous.
“I need back up. Sheriff’s department if they have boats or a helo available, if not, go with the Coast Guard. Hell, I’ll take the Beach Patrol and a few lifeguards if they have any tactical training. I don’t like going up against fellow cops alone, not when they know the playbook as well as I do.”
“Then don’t,” Nick urged. “Stay with Megan, keep her safe.”
“I will if Fleming is too far away, but if he’s close by—and I suspect he is—then there’s no time to wait. The only way for Hayden and the Flemings to get away clean is to kill Mateo.”
“If Chief Hayden and Mrs. Fleming are involved,” Walden, her resident devil’s advocate cautioned. “You have no proof. It’s not against the law for a police chief to not call in outside assistance to help with a case. She’s perfectly within her rights. So unless Mrs. Fleming already filed a false insurance claim for the stolen money, neither she nor the chief have broken any laws as far as we know.”
“Maybe not yet,” Lucy said. “Let’s make sure we find Mateo before they have a chance.”
Walden nodded. “I’ll get right on it.”
Which left her and Nick alone.
“Megan, could you walk down to the mailbox and get us the exact address, please?” Lucy asked. Megan looked like she was going to balk at the request, but then nodded and left, giving Lucy a few moments of privacy with Nick.
“What’s your plan?” he asked, not wasting any time on recriminations.
“This house has an security system sticker so we can’t risk going inside, but it’s a warm night so I’m going to set up Megan on the porch. She should be safe. I’ll leave her my laptop. If anything happens, she can get word out to you.”
He nodded but the worry lines around his eyes deepened. “You know the boy’s probably already dead and Fleming is halfway to Cuba.”
“Maybe, but I need to try.” She glanced over her shoulder in the direction Megan took. “Megan would never forgive me if I didn’t.”
“You’ll take her cell phone so we can track you?”
“Yes.” Damn, she needed to check the battery level on the phone. “As long as I have juice and there’s Wi-Fi nearby, I should be able to stay in contact. And I’ll wait for backup if I can.”
“Be careful. You’re not just dealing with a conman with a blown caper. If you’re right about Hayden, then you’re dealing with a trained law enforcement officer who has a lot to lose.”
“Like Walden said, technically Hayden hasn’t committed any crime yet—at least none that we have any evidence for. I’m hoping that will keep her on the sidelines, playing cautious and thinking twice before she does something she can’t undo. Which leaves just Fleming and maybe his wife to deal with.”
He didn’t look convinced. But Megan was back from her jog down the road. “This is number 43 Marshland Road.”
“Got it.” Nick’s tone turned stern. “Megan you do what your mother tells you to, no argument. Okay?”
“Yes, sir. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Megan was trying to act brave and grownup for Nick, but if Lucy could see through her, she was certain Nick did as well. Damn, she wished he was here.
“We’ll both be fine,” Lucy said firmly.
Before Nick could respond, Taylor returned. “I found them!”
Chapter 19
Lucy settled Megan on a settee on the front porch of the mansion. She couldn’t tell what color it was in the dark, but it sported the lovely, balanced lines, and classic design of a Southern plantation house, complete with twin staircases leading down from the columned porch.
“You’ve got water, blanket, rations if you dare to eat them—they taste like sawdust—and the laptop has almost a full charge, so as long as you don’t use it for anything else, you should be able to stay in contact with Dad.”
“I already turned on the messenger app—it will take up tons less power than video conferencing and be just as fast. Plus you can message me from my phone.”
Okay, learn something new everyday.
“I’ll be fine,” Megan said. “Go save Mateo.”
Lucy hesitated. The tide was coming in. She could hear the waves growing louder from the back of the house. There were no lights to be seen, she’d be leaving Megan alone in the dark. Vulnerable. And she hated that.
“Maybe I should stay. Let the sheriff handle things.”
“No. Mom, do your job. Please.”
Still, Lucy had doubts. Should she change her mind and leave the Remington with Megan? No. Odds were the next people Megan saw would be law enforcement: either Hayden’s men filled with Lord only knew what tall tales the chief had spun for them or a sheriff department’s hyped-up emergency response team. Last thing she wanted to risk was trusting them to think first and shoot second if Megan made the wrong move with the shotgun.
No. This was the best way, the safest way. And the hardest damn way.
Megan got up, the blanket still wrapped around her, and threw her arms around Lucy. “Thanks, Mom.”
“For what?”
“For believing in me. For trusting my instincts about Mateo. For treating me like an adult.”
Was that what she was doing? She squeezed Megan back. Didn’t mention that if she was wrong about all this, if Fleming really was the victim and Mateo their actor, then she’d be the one destroying Mateo’s future.
Except… she did trust Megan’s instincts. And her own. Ever since her injury, fighting back physically and mentally, she’d been second-guessing every choice. But not now. Now she was certain she was right.
She kissed Megan’s forehead—would have kissed the top of her head like she did when Megan was little, submerging herself in the perfume of baby shampoo and innocence, but Megan had grown too tall for that.
“I’ll see you soon,” she promised. “Everything will be all right.”
A double promise. Tempting Fate. But for once, Lucy didn’t care. The confidence of knowing she was right and that she’d keep her word surged through her.
Lucy let Megan go and turned, jogged down the steps, barely feeling the thud of pain echoing through her bad ankle. Everything was going to be all right—because she was going to make sure of it.
She sped off in the Subaru, watching Megan in the rearview, a tiny shadow draped in deeper shadows of the house and the moonless night. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she didn’t feel a pang of regret or fear by letting her daughter out of her sight.
Megan would be fine. She was a smart girl—no, not a girl, not any more. A smart young woman. Brave and strong and she had her father’s intuition about people and her mother’s pig-headed stubborn refusal to give up and her own savvy,
sly instincts that combined the two.
Lucy smiled. God help anyone who dared to go up against her daughter. Megan’s black belt would be the least of their worries.
***
“Don’t tell me you’re getting squeamish now,” a woman’s voice pierced the haze surrounding Mateo. He couldn’t stay awake; the drugs were still messing with his mind. They’d returned him to the boat’s storage compartment, a wide cupboard with a door that opened out. He tried kicking at the door but his legs were asleep and he couldn’t pull them back far enough to get any leverage. At least he’d been able to see that Pastor Fleming was still alive.
They had to get out of here, soon. Pastor Fleming had looked awful. He wasn’t going to last much longer.
“When you called me for help, it didn’t include murder,” a second woman answered. They were moving about up on the deck, making the boat shimmy and shake.
“It’s not murder if it’s natural causes. Diabetic ketoacidosis. That’s what the autopsy will show.”
Mateo froze. They were talking about killing Pastor Fleming. Funny, part of him had imagined that the man he’d heard earlier was Pastor Fleming—that he was the one who’d given Mateo the drugs and dragged him onto the boat. He still wasn’t sure how he’d been drugged; he remembered a glass of iced tea and nothing after that, but even that memory was foggy. Was that iced tea something he’d drunk with Megan? Or maybe with his family during lunch? Time was all confused. It was like looking through a crazy kaleidoscope, hard to tell what was real with so many fragments that didn’t fit together.
“I’m not talking about Robert and you know it.”
“Kid’s own damn fault, meddling where he had no business.”
There was a pause and the sound of something heavy being dropped with a thud. A body? Was Mateo next? He squirmed, trying to push against the cupboard door.
“Tell me one thing. Robert faking his death, that was his plan. Was killing him yours from the beginning?”
“Fool expected me to wait until the courts declared him dead so I could collect the life insurance. While he took the money and ran. This way I get it all—”
