She grinned. “Seems like we’ve been there and done that before.”
I shrugged. The feeling was hardly new, but one I always hated to come across. It’s like the sensation that there’s a sprig of hair on your lip, yet when you look in the mirror, you see nothing. It’s the sort of feeling that can drive you crazy.
As I sipped my drink, the phone rang. I answered it, holding crossed fingers toward Jill.
“This is Ranger Alvarez,” he said. “Sorry it took so long, but I just got back over here.”
“Have you found anything?” I asked.
“You guessed right. Evan Baucus is on the list. It’s been nearly a year since he got his pass. That’s probably why the name didn’t ring a bell.”
52
I told Alvarez we wanted to drop by and see him. Before leaving, I played my surveillance tape. There was lots of activity around the parking area, but no one came near my Jeep. Feeling confident the vehicle had not been tampered with, I decided to give it a once-over anyway, then drive it to the National Seashore. As I told Jill, I wanted everything to look perfectly normal.
It was close to five when we parked beside the ranger’s car and found him in his small office.
“Here’s the list,” he said. He pointed to a computer printout on his desk.
I looked down and saw the name Evan Baucus. I thought I had found the last piece of the puzzle, but then I spotted a cell phone lying on the ranger’s desk and a bright light flashed on in my head. I looked so startled that Jill wondered if I was having a heart attack.
“Nope,” I said. “Remember my saying something was missing that should have been right in front of my eyes? Well, I just got a clue and it shook me up.”
“What clue?”
“You’ll see.”
Ranger Alvarez just stared at us, bemused.
Now that all the pieces had fallen into place, I had to structure the showdown. So far, I had a case built only on circumstantial evidence. I needed something more.
I described my plan to Alvarez and he agreed to cooperate.
I called Baucus’ cell phone.
“This is Greg McKenzie,” I said. “I’ve come up with some crucial information I’m sure you’ll want to know about.”
“Information on what?”
“On you and The Sand Castle project and Tim Gannon. I’ve finally put it all together.”
“What are you talking about, McKenzie? Put what all together?”
“What happened that Friday night when the balcony fell and Tim died. Meet me over at the National Seashore at seven o’clock, on the road to the boat launching area, where Tim’s Blazer was found.”
“It’s already past sundown,” Baucus said in a testy voice. “The gate will be locked.”
“That’s right,” I said. “And you have the combination. You got it with your Night Owl Pass. I saw your name on the list.”
His voice carried uncertainty, maybe fear. “What are you driving at, McKenzie?”
“I know who killed Tim,” I said. “Just be there at seven. I’ll be in my brown Jeep Grand Cherokee. Oh, and bring your wife along. I think she’ll be interested in hearing all that I have to say.”
When I hung up the phone, Jill frowned at me. “Are they coming?”
I nodded. “They’ll be here.”
“I’m looking forward to the showdown,” she said, smiling.
I shook my head. “Too dangerous. I want you to wait for me over here at the beach. I’ll come back for you as soon as it’s over.”
She stood with hands firmly planted on her hips, eyes smoldering, a determined look on her face. “We’re in this together, remember? If it’s too dangerous for me, it’s too dangerous for you. Either I go or we call it off.”
And she’s the one who called me hard-headed. I knew when she got in this kind of mood, arguing was useless. But after what had happened to her a year ago, I couldn’t see putting her in harm’s way again. So I argued anyway.
“You’ve done your part, babe. You got some of the key bits of information we needed. Now the job is up to me. Your presence might be a distraction.”
“For who, you or them?”
“Either of us.”
“Come on, Greg. We were there together the last time they saw us. If you want everything to appear perfectly normal and non-threatening, we should be together now.”
She had a point. And more to the point, clearly she did not intend to back down. So, reluctantly, I agreed for her to go with me.
53
Shortly before seven, we stepped out of the Jeep, which I had parked where Tim’s Blazer had been found, and stood in the middle of the road. I had switched off the lights and the night was dark, the woods on both sides of us filled with indistinct shapes of bushes and trees. Jill tugged her jacket tighter as a chilling breeze swept toward us from the shore, bringing with it the chatter of unseen insects and an unpleasant odor. Likely from the remains of a dead animal nearby.
“It’s creepy in here,” she said. She kept her voice low, as if some nosy beach mouse might be listening.
“It may get even creepier before it’s over.”
The glow of headlights suddenly appeared in the direction of Johnson Beach, and a vehicle moved slowly toward us. As the car pulled in behind my Jeep, I could make out Evan Baucus’ blue Mercedes. The door opened and he stepped into the road, leaving the headlights on. He wore khaki pants and shirt and what appeared to be a padded gray vest. A figure in dark slacks and jacket scraped past the bushes, coming around from the passenger side. When she moved into the light, I saw the blonde hair of Greta Baucus.
“I suppose you wanted to see my fishing outfit,” Baucus said, sarcasm in his voice. “So now you know.”
Both the pants and vest had bulky pockets that would make excellent places to conceal a weapon, I noted.
“I just found out today about your penchant for fishing,” I said.
“Let’s get on with it, McKenzie. This had better be good. I’ve been on the verge of calling the sheriff to complain about your butting into matters that are none of your business.”
“That’s interesting,” I said. “Your Mafia friends used the same words when they attacked me in Orange Beach the other night. Except they didn’t mention the sheriff.”
“I have no Mafia friends.”
“Well, your boss at Perseid, Limited certainly does,” I said. “I’m sure he provided the link to the New Orleans hoods. I suspect he’s also the one who provided you with the name Evan Baucus...Mr. Fletcher.”
Seeing the shock on his face was worth the trip out here in the cold, dark night.
“How did you...?”
“What’s this Mr. Fletcher business?” Greta asked, her voice rising, her look turning ugly.
“I’m afraid your husband is actually a disbarred lawyer from Cheyenne, Wyoming,” I said. “He disappeared from there a few years ago, leaving behind a wife and daughter.”
She stared open-mouthed and then exploded. “You bastard! I knew you weren’t all you claimed to be, but I never thought it would be anything like this. I’m glad I told Mrs. McKenzie about your secret hobby.”
“You told her?” Baucus said in disbelief.
“That’s right,” I said. “That little clue gave us the idea you might have a Night Owl Pass. When I checked the list, there you were. You had access to the combination lock at the gate. You could have given it to Tim, then driven up the beach around one o’clock to meet him and fire the shot that looked like a suicide.”
“That’s preposterous. Why would I do that?”
“To save your hide. When Tim produced his plans and showed where they had been altered, the little plot you and Detrich had dreamed up to save money would have been exposed. You needed Tim dead and those plans destroyed.”
Baucus stood quite still. The reality had begun to sink in. He looked trapped and deflated.
“I’ll admit I wanted those plans,” he said. “And I got them. But I didn’t kill Tim Ga
nnon.”
“How did you get the plans?”
“I found the key to your condo on the floor in The Sand Castle lobby early that morning. I was on my way back from checking on that sorry drunk, Detrich.”
“How did you know it was the key to our condo?”
“It had the Gulf Sands chain with the unit number on it. I’d been by there with Tim not long ago.”
I frowned. “How did the key get in The Sand Castle lobby?”
“Evidently Tim had come by for a final look on his way to the Seashore. I figured he dropped it accidentally.”
“So you took the key and headed for Gulf Sands.”
“I did. I reasoned if the key was here, Tim would not be there. I had told Greta I needed to figure a way to get those plans. When I drove over to your place and saw nothing of Tim’s Blazer, I went in and found them on a table.”
“You also erased the file in the laptop, didn’t you?”
Baucus nodded. “But none of it would have been necessary if that damned balcony hadn’t collapsed. I still don’t know why it did. Claude assured me there was no chance of anything like that happening. He said it might not even crack for several years.”
Greta was watching him, a look of scorn twisting her face. “I’m glad they found you out, Fletcher. I, for one, don’t believe a damn word of that crap about finding the condo key at The Sand Castle. You found it in Gannon’s Blazer. You killed him.”
“That’s the way it looks,” I said.
Greta’s eyes were ugly in the Mercedes’ headlights. “You’re damned right. I’ll testify against you, Evan whatever-your-name-is, and I’ll gladly watch you burn for it.”
Baucus waved his arms, trying to fend off his problems. “I didn’t do it, so help me God.”
I smiled at him. “Oddly enough, I believe you.”
“You do?” It was Jill who spoke, looking shocked.
“Sorry, babe, I neglected to tell you what finally clicked in my brain. Seeing that cell phone on Alvarez’s desk did the trick. Remember, Baucus and his wife both said he got a phone call around twelve-thirty and left The Sand Castle. But his cell phone records showed a call was placed to Tim Gannon at our condo at 12:42.”
“I didn’t make it,” Baucus said. “I didn’t take the phone with me.”
I nodded. “That’s right. You and Greta both told us you got a call, handed the phone to her and left.” I turned to Greta. “You made the call to Tim, arranged the meeting for right here. After you shot him, you found our condo key, took it back to The Sand Castle and left it where you knew your husband would see it.”
“Very clever, Mr. McKenzie.”
Greta’s face was a gargoyle of hate. And now she held a gun in her hand. I hadn’t counted on that. It appeared to be a long-barrel revolver like something out of the Wild West, maybe a Smith & Wesson .44. It would hold six bullets and enough destructive power to punch large holes in anybody who got in its way.
“You’ve complicated things a bit,” she said.
“I could understand your husband shooting Tim,” I said. “But why you?”
“Evan didn’t have the balls to do anything like that. I’m surprised he even sicced those Mafia guys on you. He told me that night what a disaster it would be for us if Tim Gannon produced those plans and proved the construction hadn’t been done right. He said he’d get somebody at Perseid to do something, but I knew it would be too little and too late. I had invested my future in this bastard and his projects. He was my ticket to fortune if not fame. I saw everything going down the tube unless I did something right then.”
I shook my head. “How the devil did you manage to handle a guy as sharp and athletic as Tim Gannon?”
“Pretty good, wasn’t I?” she said, grinning. “We’d been here all week, and I’d jogged into the park a lot. I saw a path over the dunes well past the ranger station cameras. I knew where Evan kept the gate lock combination. As soon as he left, I took my gun and the phone and ran up the beach. I called Gannon, told him Evan wanted to meet him right away and settle the matter of responsibility, then read him the combination. I keep in pretty good shape, but I was winded by all that running in the sand. I had just gotten my breath back when he drove up.”
She pointed the pistol at me. The Beretta might as well have been on the moon. She read my mind. “Keep your hands up where I can see them.”
I raised my hands. “What did he do when he saw you instead of your husband?”
“I aimed this big hunk of pistol at him and told him to do exactly as I said. I had intended to use it on him. My dear old daddy gave me this gun years ago. The serial number was filed off. I’m not sure where he got the thing. Probably from some unsavory friend. Anyway, I told Gannon to lower his front windows and move into the passenger seat, that Evan would be here in a few minutes. Then I moved around the front of the Blazer, keeping the gun pointed his way. I was coming around the fender when I saw him reach for the glove box. He didn’t know how fast I could move. I was at the window before he could get his hand out. When I saw his gun there, I knew I was in luck.”
“Why?”
“I knew his fingerprints would be on the gun. I had on rubber gloves I use sometimes when I’m re-potting plants. So I shot him with it, then dropped the gun at his feet. I found the condo key while raising the windows. Then I locked the doors and left.”
“You were lucky in more ways than one,” I said. “Sergeant Payne was so sure of his suicide theory that he made no search of the area on the right side of the Blazer. I’m sure you left some evidence you had been there.”
She nodded. “The deputy turned out to be a big help, all right. And things were going fine until you showed up. When I realized how much you knew, I figured I had better point you in the direction of my beloved husband. Your wife was very helpful with that.”
“I really appreciate the help,” I said. “And I’m glad we have these witnesses to your confession.”
She laughed. “Sorry. I don’t intend to leave any witnesses.” The barrel swung on me, and everything stood still as I coiled up for my lunge at her and across Jill. If I didn’t survive, perhaps Jill would.
At that moment, Ranger Ricky Alvarez stepped out of the darkness across from us, his weapon aimed at Greta Baucus. “Drop the gun, Mrs. Baucus. You’re under arrest for the murder of Timothy Gannon.”
As she turned, startled, I pulled the Beretta from my belt. Her big pistol was swinging on Alvarez. I barely had time to aim and fire.
Raw fear and adrenalin affected my aim. The nine millimeter hit the big revolver, spinning her around in shock and breaking her trigger finger. As the revolver headed for the ground I was already hurling myself at Jill. When it discharged on impact the bullet went harmlessly out over the darkened lagoon.
“Oh, God, Jill—your shoulder!”
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” She clung to me.
I got us up and gestured with the Beretta to Alvarez. “Let’s forget I brought this into the park.”
“I’ll have to report it,” he said, cuffing Greta, careful of her rapidly swelling hand. “But I’ll also report that I authorized you to bring the weapon in to assist me. Now I’d better call Sergeant Payne to come out and get the prisoners.” He hesitated. “That was some shot.”
“It wasn’t where I aimed,” I confessed. “She got a lucky break.”
“I didn’t want to kill her.”
“I know,” I said. “Neither did I, but it’s either act on instinct or be the victim.”
Alvarez secured Baucus with another pair of cuffs. “Sir, you’ve just admitted to conspiracy to breaking and entering, plus stealing and altering plans. I think Escambia County can find enough to take you out of circulation for a long time.”
“I imagine Harrison County, Mississippi will be interested in questioning him, also,” I said. “And Mobile County, Alabama will probably want to know what he had to do with the death of Oliver O’Keefe.”
Jill had been listening quietly. Now she
spoke up. “Don’t forget Orange Beach, Greg.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s one I owe you for, Mr. Fletcher.”
54
We had driven up to the gate by the time Sergeant Payne arrived. The Baucuses sat in the rear seat of the National Park Service car, which was parked behind my Jeep. After the arrest, Alvarez had marched them back to where his car was hidden in the large turn-around at the boat launch area.
Payne stepped out of his patrol car and looked around, surprised, when he saw Jill and me standing beside the ranger.
“Who did McKenzie kill?” Payne asked, his voice booming through the chill night air.
I grinned. I had heard the ranger tell him to meet at the gate and pick up a murderer and an accomplice.
“Nobody,” Alvarez said. “Mr. McKenzie just solved a murder for you. Tim Gannon didn’t commit suicide after all. Mrs. Baucus shot him.”
The screeching of tires beside the gate announced the arrival of a highly agitated Lieutenant Cassel. He jumped out of his car and hurried over to where we stood, eyes flashing between Payne, Alvarez, Jill and me.
“What did he do now?” Cassel asked, pointing at me.
“Ricky says Mr. McKenzie caught a murderer,” said Payne.
“He what?”
Alvarez ordered Evan and Greta Baucus out of his car and explained to the two deputies what had happened.
The chagrin on Cassel’s face almost made me smile as my adrenalin settled down. “I thought I told you to let me know when you had something,” he said, glaring at me.
I shrugged. “It all came together pretty fast, Lieutenant. I thought it would work best to get them over here to the Seashore right away, and Mr. Alvarez agreed to the plan. There wasn’t time to involve anybody else.”
“I should have known you’d pull something like this,” Cassel said. “We picked up the two characters from New Orleans this afternoon. They deny knowing anything about you. Or anything about anything, for that matter.”
“Why didn’t you call and let us know?” I asked.
Designed to Kill (Greg McKenzie Mysteries) Page 24
