As Good as Dead

by Patricia H. Rushford

  Dan set the steaming bowl of fried, seasoned potatoes and platter of meat on the table near the salad he’d placed there earlier. He poured wine for Bernie and himself. Angel opted not to drink the wine, wanting her mind clear for whatever new material she was about to receive.

  While they ate, she learned more about Bernard Penghetti. He owned and operated the publishing arm of Penghetti Publishers, which had within it several smaller publishing houses. Angel didn’t recognize any of them, but then she rarely paid attention to who published the books she read. He was a deacon in his church and ran to keep fit. He’d heard there was a trail that went along the lake for a few miles and suggested they run together the next morning.

  “I have a question for you.” Angel set down her fork. “So far you’ve sworn that your organization is on the up-and-up, yet I’ve heard from some trusted sources that under all these legitimate businesses there are major drug operations, not to mention fraud, graft, and even murder.”

  “I think there are people who like to believe the worst. Having money and power do not always equal corruption. Take your brothers, for example; they have a great deal of money. They are powerful men, but they are honest as well, don’t you agree?”

  “Of course, but why would the state bring charges against you if there wasn’t some truth in what my sources have told me?”

  “You ask good questions, Angel.” He took a sip of his merlot. “Years ago, our reputation was tarnished when one of my cousins used his wealth to purchase land in Colombia and build a large operation involving drugs there. But Leonardo was caught and killed by the DEA.”

  “When was that?”

  “Twenty years ago, I’m sure. My father and uncle can’t watch every aspect of the family business. If they hear of a problem, they deal with it immediately. Stanton was a problem.”

  “So you had him killed and set it up so Luke was blamed.”

  “No.” Bernie sighed. “We fired him and fully cooperated with the police in his arrest.”

  “I’d sure like to know what Stanton had to say about you that was so condemning.”

  “Lies. I do have access to the transcripts from the trial up until the charges were dropped.”

  “I’d like to see them.”

  “How is your mother, Angel?” Bernie asked out of the blue. “This situation with her husband and son must be very hard on her.”

  Why was he asking about her mother? Was his question a threat under the guise of caring? But Anna was safe at Aunt Gabby’s, wasn’t she? No one outside the family and Rachael knew where Anna had gone. Although that wasn’t quite true. Had the Penghettis planted the listening device? “She’s coping. Grieving.”

  Angel suddenly realized that Anna Delaney might have another loss to deal with. A daughter. And then there was the finding and losing of Luke a second time. She wondered if Callen had notified Anna that Angel had been taken for a ride by a mobster. Angel hoped not. On the other hand, Ma needed to know what was going on. Angel wished she’d confided in her early on. Now it might be too late.

  She brought her attention back to her hosts. Were Bernie and Dan rocking her into complacency? If she worked with them to find Luke, what would happen to her? As pleasant as they could be, she couldn’t trust anything they said, and more importantly, she needed to remain an asset to them.

  The entire situation here at the condo with Bernard Penghetti and Dan seemed surreal. She wouldn’t have been at all surprised to learn that she’d dreamed up the whole thing.

  After they’d eaten, she sat down at the computer again with Bernie, who brought up several files he’d obtained on the trial and on the DA. These he printed off so Angel could read them more thoroughly later on. Once he’d given the print command, he announced that he was tired and would be going to bed.

  “What am I supposed to do for pajamas and stuff?” Angel asked him. “And where am I supposed to sleep?”

  “There’s a second bedroom upstairs.” Bernie stopped on the landing. “While we were working on the computer, Dan picked up some things at the general store. I’m sure you’ll find enough to get by.”

  Alone in the condo with two men. The realization that this could be a very dangerous situation churned up the contents of her stomach, nearly causing her to flee to the bathroom.

  “Don’t worry, kid,” Dan said. “You’re safe with us.”

  Angel didn’t like Dan buying her things, and she especially didn’t like him knowing what she was thinking. “I wasn’t worried.” She turned back to the computer and clicked on the mailbox. There was a note for Bernie from his wife telling him she missed him and that Jimmy had had a good day. She went to her server’s website and clicked on her own mail.

  The first email was from Rachael. Apparently Callen had told her about Angel’s plan to rescue Kinsey and Marie. “You’re crazy, Angel. Please, please do not trust these people. They are dangerous!!!!”

  Another message had come in from Callen saying he’d gone to the PD and was waiting for the guard to bring Justin out to talk with him. He explained that he’d lost the connection with her cell and had gone around to the back of the house to get closer. By the time he got into place, he heard the car start up and take off. Without her keys, he’d had to wait for a patrol car, and by then it was too late. He too warned her not to trust Penghetti.

  Annoyance crept in. Didn’t he and Rachael realize that she wasn’t dumb? Of course she had told them she was being taken care of—partly because she hadn’t wanted them to worry, but mostly because she hadn’t wanted to write something that Bernie or Dan might see. She deleted the messages and glanced over her shoulder. Dan was still in the kitchen, and Angel noticed the car keys on the counter. She averted her eyes before Dan could catch her looking at them.

  “Well, guess I’ll get started on my reading.” She stretched and yawned.

  Dan nodded and continued to load the dishwasher. “Good night.”

  “Night.” Angel took the thick sheaf of paper up to the bedroom and set it on the nightstand. Slipping off her shoes, she padded across the plush beige carpet into the private bath. While brushing her teeth with a new brush and toothpaste, she thought about her best means of escape. It seemed simple enough: just wait until both men were asleep, sneak downstairs, take the keys, and leave. She hadn’t noticed an alarm system, so her plan should work—if she could get by Dan. If he awoke when she attempted her getaway, she’d just tell him she was thirsty and wanted a drink of water.

  Angel played the escape scene over and over in her mind, wondering how long it would take for Dan to fall asleep. She eyed the pajamas laid out on the bed and opted to stay dressed, at least for now. At midnight, she’d go downstairs and reevaluate. In the meantime she’d read.

  Angel had had only a surface look at the case in which Luke had been involved. Rachael’s information had given her a bit more background on the case, but these documents seemed to cover everything. There were articles as well as court documents and testimonies. The charges against the Penghetti brothers included graft, fraud, drug dealing, and even murder. The witness was expected to testify to being present while one of their dealers, a young Latino, was killed by Bobby and Rick Penghetti. The DA’s office had apparently been after the brothers for a long time, but for various reasons, lack of evidence being one of them, the brothers were never formally charged. On this occasion, the DA was quoted as saying: “This time the charges will stick.” Angel wondered why everything lay so heavily on one witness.

  Angel read through the details, thinking Bernie may not have been entirely wrong in thinking the DA was somehow responsible. What if the witness had changed his mind and decided to tell the court that the DA had bribed him? That would certainly be motive for murder. DA wants a conviction. He hires the witness. Witness changes his mind. DA hires a hit.

  The scenario was far-fetched but almost as believable as the Penghetti brothers hiring the hit. The media blamed the Penghetti brothers, and who could argue with their reasoning? Withou
t the witness, the brothers would go free. According to the DA’s office, however, only Luke and the DA knew where the witness and guard were staying. How had the killer found them? Of course, information could easily be bought. Perhaps the brothers had a spy at the hotel who provided them with the information. Or maybe they knew someone at the DA’s office.

  In an attached note, Angel found the DA’s name and address, making note of the fact that he had left his job shortly after the shooting incident. Which corresponded with what Rachael had told her. He was also living very well, she noted, as an attorney in private practice.

  Angel set the stack of papers aside and rubbed her blurry eyes. She wanted to go home, sit out on her deck, and watch the stars. Discouragement washed over her like the waves on the ocean. Would she ever find Luke? And if she or the authorities did find him, would he be alive? The Penghetti brothers wanted Luke, and whoever Justin had been working for wanted him too. Were they the same people? Justin was too young to have been the original hit man, so was that person after Luke as well? Did Luke have some kind of information that could incriminate all of them? Who had gotten to Luke first? Who had hired Justin? Far too many questions. She needed to talk to Callen. He would have shown the photo to Justin by now. Had he emailed her back? Could she check the computer?

  When Angel made her way downstairs, it was nearly midnight. Dan was lying on the couch and appeared to be asleep. The computer was closed, and Angel toyed with the idea of turning it on. Dan would undoubtedly wake up when it came on and chimed its welcome.

  In the dim light she could see the keys still sitting on the counter. She went back into the bedroom to retrieve her bag but couldn’t find it; then she realized she’d left it in the living room near the computer. She put on her shoes and crept down the stairs and crossed the room to the computer. The purse wasn’t there. Had Dan moved it?

  You don’t have time to search for it now. To make certain Dan was asleep, she went into the kitchen, plucking the keys off the counter and tucking them into her pocket as she went by. She took down a glass, filled it with water, drank most of the water, and set the glass down. Dan hadn’t stirred and was softly snoring.

  Taking several deep breaths to calm her fragile nerves, Angel slipped outside and down the concrete steps into the garage. She made her way to the limo and clicked the remote to unlock the door. It gave its annoying honk, and Angel’s breath caught and held. She slipped inside and inserted the key, twisting it as she watched the stairs. Apparently no one had heard. Moments later, she was on the main road heading back to Coeur d’Alene.

  On the outskirts of town, she passed a patrol car, and moments later she saw that the car was following her, lights flashing.

  The stop didn’t surprise her. Callen had probably alerted the authorities to be on the lookout for the vehicle. She pulled over.

  “May I see your driver’s license and registration please?” the sheriff’s deputy said when he arrived at her window.

  “I don’t have my license. I was sort of abducted and I escaped, but I couldn’t find my bag.” She leaned over and popped the button on the glove box and pulled out the rental agreement. “It’s a rental car.”

  “You’re driving without a license?”

  “Yes, but I just explained why.” She handed him the papers. “It’s rented to Bernard Penghetti or Dan something.” She rubbed her forehead as he looked over the forms. He wasn’t buying her story, she could tell. “Look, my name is Angel Delaney. I’m a cop. If you don’t believe me, you can call Detective Callen Riley.” She gave him Callen’s cell number. “Or call the police department in Coeur d’Alene. They’ll know who I am.”

  “Step out of the car.” His voice was stern.

  “Officer, please. We’re wasting valuable time here.”

  “Out of the car, slowly.”

  Angel complied. “Please, just call the police department.”

  He had her lean against the car and quickly patted her down.

  “I’m not armed. I’m just trying to get into town.”

  “Save it.” He cuffed her, then ushered her into the backseat of his patrol car.

  “You’re taking me in?” She didn’t especially like the idea of being hauled into jail, but at least there she’d be able to get someone to corroborate her story. “But what about the car?”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  The officer didn’t believe a word she’d said, and she didn’t really blame him. If she had stopped someone without a license driving a vehicle rented to someone else, she doubted she’d believe them either. The officer needed to verify that she was who she said she was. No matter, she’d soon be in town calling Callen to come get her. She leaned back, sighing in relief.

  The officer removed the keys from the limo and locked it up, leaving it at the side of the rode. Once inside his own vehicle, he called for a tow. Bernie and Dan would not be happy to discover they’d been left without a car.

  The officer drove a short distance on the two-lane highway toward town, then at a pullout made a U-turn and headed back in the direction they’d just come.

  “What’s going on? Where are we going?” She spotted the limo parked on the opposite side of the road. Unbelievable. He was taking her back to Penghetti.

  FORTY-TWO

  The officer eyed her in the rearview mirror. “Just cool your jets, Miss Penghetti. You’re lucky I’m taking you back to your uncle and not to jail. He said he didn’t want to press charges.”

  “My uncle? You talked to him?” Angel leaned back. Great. This is just great. The guy doesn’t believe a word I said, and I don’t have ID to prove it. “I suppose he told you I’d say I’d been abducted and that I’d give you a phony name.”

  “Which is exactly what you did.”

  “I am Angel Delaney. Please, just call the Coeur d’Alene PD.”

  He smiled. “I already did, ma’am. They never heard of you.”

  “How can that be?” Angel sucked in a sharp breath. “Please don’t take me back to the condo. They’ll kill me.”

  He chuckled. “You sound like my daughter. I doubt you have anything to be afraid of, except maybe being grounded. Mr. Penghetti seems like a nice guy.”

  “Grounded? Did he tell you how old I am?”

  “Yeah. Seventeen going on thirty, which looks about right.”

  She probably did look like a teenager. Her small stature and unruly curls had most people questioning her age. “How much did he pay you to bring me back?”

  “I don’t accept money.” He frowned. “Just doing my job.”

  “Then arrest me. I stole the car.”

  He shook his head. “Why don’t you just sit back and relax?”

  Relax. Right. As if that were possible. Angel wondered who he’d talked to at the PD. How could they not have heard of her?

  Probably someone on the night shift who wasn’t up to speed on the case.

  Several minutes later, they pulled into the condo parking lot, and the officer escorted her to the front door and rang the bell.

  Dan opened the door, gave Angel a knowing smile, and stepped aside. “Mr. Penghetti, Angel is back.”

  “Thank goodness.” Bernie nudged Dan aside and pulled Angel into his arms, then, realizing she was wearing cuffs, turned to the officer. “Were these really necessary?”

  “Sorry, I was afraid she might run away.”

  “She might have at that.” Bernie turned to her. “Angel, what were you thinking, taking off like that in the middle of the night?”

  Angel stared at him for a moment, trying to determine her next move. She should insist that the officer take her into town, but she wouldn’t. The fight had slithered right out of her, disappearing faster than a snake in a thicket. She was exhausted and almost ready to dissolve into tears. They must have known all along she’d try something like this. They’d hidden her bag and probably called the authorities the minute she left.

  The officer uncuffed her and left after telling Bernie that the limo
would be towed back to the condo within the hour.

  “Thank you, officer.” Bernie closed the door and sighed.

  Angel slogged over to the chair and dropped into it. “Why did you let me go? Why let me go to all this trouble just to have the cops stop me?”

  “We didn’t realize you’d gone until Dan heard the car honk when you unlocked the door. He noticed the keys were missing and went to check. You were gone and so was the car.” Bernie shook his head. “I’m disappointed in you, Angel. We had an agreement.”

  Bernie looked tired too, and Angel felt a smattering of guilt, though she had no idea why. “So what are you going to do now, shoot me?”

  “Oh, Angel.” Bernie sat in the chair across from her. “I’m hurt you would think that. Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? We’re not killers. What do I have to do to prove we’re on your side?”

  “Releasing me might help. How can you expect me to believe you’re on my side when you’re holding me prisoner? You want to find Luke and apparently will go to any means to get him.”

  “To talk with him, yes.” Bernie ran a hand down his face. “Did you read the papers I printed off for you?”

  “Most of them.”

  “And?”

  “What?” She shrugged. “I see you have reason to suspect the DA, but I have just as much reason to suspect you.”

  “Hmm. The media painted a rather negative picture of us, didn’t they? We’re hoping Luke will be able to help us clear everything up.”

  Angel looked from him to Dan. Neither seemed particularly ready to kill her for leaving. Still, she didn’t trust them. “Why are you keeping me here against my will?”

  “I suppose it must seem like that.”

  “Yes, it kind of does,” Angel said sarcastically. “I need to contact Detective Riley. He was going to show Justin the photo of the DA. If the DA is the one who hired him, maybe I’ll believe you.”

  Dan gestured toward the computer. “Wasn’t he going to email you a message?”

  “That was the plan.”