* * *
A bullet was Dunstead’s preferred way to kill. It was quick, clean. The cops knew that, though. If he did the hit like he usually did, he’d be back in before he got used to being out. No, he needed to be creative. And he didn’t have to think that hard. He’d do it the way the old lady had planned, but with a twist. Idea had been simmering in the back of his brain all while he was in. What he’d do if he got the chance.
There was a bit of…balancing to be done, accounts to be settled. Both now and for his pa.
Target was not his first choice, but there was a certain finesse to the idea, something the cops also wouldn’t expect from him. Probably thought he didn’t know what that word meant. Well, let them think it. Didn’t want the credit for this one.
All it took was a few minutes on a computer at a local library—it was ridiculously easy to learn how to blow up a car—and a chat with the right gal to get the stuff he needed, and he was halfway to a hit with finesse.
He had a guy watching the doc. According to him, he wasn’t only one following the doc around. Bit of a surprise, but not a deal breaker. They would widen the suspect pool for him, though they also upped the difficulty level in planting the bomb on her car.
He tossed the cigarette butt away and straightened. Looked both ways down the dispirited back alley and then headed back to his wheels.
Maybe he’d learned a little something from his time with old lady St. Cyr, so it wasn’t all bad. And the best part? If the cops didn’t blame one of the guys following her, they might pin it old lady St. Cyr. Everyone knew Dunstead preferred a bullet.
* * *
By the time the server had returned with her change and her wrapped-up food, Hannah had found her backbone right where she’d left it. Afoniki wasn’t her big brother. He didn’t get to yank her chain. The parade, too. She was over it. So over it. Wasn’t it hard enough to be a gal working in the city without a bunch of idiots deciding to examine her lame life? Really? And for what?
Bet money not a one of them knew why they were doing it—not the guys doing the following or the guys doing the hiring. Bet it was like Ferris figured, that one of them started it and the others just followed along because. Jerks. She could almost hear them all not thinking. She halted in the doorway and did a sweep of the parking lot. Identified three possibles. They were all driving cars that were variation on a cliché theme. A bit old, a bit inconspicuous, with a dude in the front seat of each. Smoking. Cliché guys in their cliché cars. And that one had been on her street. She remembered the plate number.
She went for him.
When he tried to pretend he was invisible, Hannah rapped sharply on the window. He rolled it down. Tried to look stupid. Managed it, but she wasn’t gonna be deterred by what she already knew to be true. She had some steam up and needed a direction to blow it.
“Get out. Now.” She’d practiced this tone on her sisters, so she wasn’t surprised when he complied. Or that he stood there looking sheepish and trapped, with a bit of wild-eyed.
“Who?”
“Ma’am?”
“You know what I’m asking. Who?”
He swallowed, looked around for help. Didn’t get any. “Mr.,” he swallowed and lowered his voice, “Mr. St. Cyr, but please…”
“You tell him from me that I’ll be sending my brothers around to ask why he feels the need to monitor my movements unless he wants to reconsider his decision-making process.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Get out of here.”
He complied so fast, he tripped over his feet and the edge of the car. Managed to leave without hitting anyone or anything, though it was touch and go. She looked at number two. He tried to leave, taking it casual, but she wasn’t fooled. Number three must have left when she was chewing on number one. Probably not the way Ferris would have recommended to lose a tail, but it appeared to have worked.
She studied the various cars in the lot. No obvious signs of anyone else interested in her. Couldn’t think of a fourth person who would put a tail on her, but she didn’t assume things inside the NOCC. Maybe she should take that policy into the outside, too. Charlie had called it a parade, not the three dudes following you.
There were people around, but none of them looked particularly shady, clichéd or interested in her. That didn’t mean someone wasn’t.
She bit her lip. If she were clear of tails, how long would that last? She didn’t know why they’d been put on her in the first place. Could be about the coffins, but she’d just vowed not to assume, unless she should assume. And then she would. But no assuming right now.
Okay, that thought train had been painfully complicated. Maybe she should just move on—she saw the street car approaching. She might not be a detective, but she didn’t need to be one to carpe diem.
* * *
Dunstead’s drop phone shrilled. “Yeah?”
He listened, was a bit impressed. Doc had managed to shed herself of all three tails. Good for him, not so good for her. The jump onto the streetcar gave him pause.
Did he want him to follow her? She’d be on the alert for a while. Might spot his guy. And he didn’t care where she went, now that he considered it. Soon enough, she’d have to come back and pick up her car. And then it wouldn’t matter. She’d leave the world in a blaze of glory.
“Stay with the car. I’ll be there in ten.”
It would be tricky in daylight, but it felt kinda like a sign. Public place, very different from official parking behind the morgue.
“Check around for cameras,” he ordered, before ending the call. Almost he smiled. How appropriate they called it “baking” a scene.
* * *
Hannah had brought with her the wrapping from the package and Charlie’s ring. She smoothed the paper now and studied the return address. She held it closer, turning it so the light could find it. Was that a number lightly penciled in after the street address? She tucked it back in her purse and studied Happy Endings.
She’d seen worse, she decided, but was starting to feel more certain it was an ironic choice. There was some flash, the kind of exterior that reassured both relatives and potential inmates, er, residents, that happiness could be found within. Why, she wondered, did so many retirement homes stick palm trees all over? Was it about upkeep or a subliminal Florida-ish message? Well-maintained exterior. Smooth walks and enough flowers to appear cheerful.
She skirted the activity center and dodged some gray hairs, as she studied the numbering system. She paused by a bulletin board, using the time to make sure she was still without a tail. If she’d been tailing herself, she’d have stayed out on the street, but she was pretty sure she was clear. She’d walked completely around the block before approaching.
She moved on, trying to imagine Zach in a place like this. Couldn’t, of course, but then it was hard to imagine Zach anywhere but at home. She supposed all kids, even grown ones, had blinders on about their parents. Every now and again, the blinders would shift, giving her a glimpse of the man instead of the dad. These glimpses did not provide clarity or even understanding. True understanding, she’d been told by the sister who had a kid, wouldn’t happen until she became a parent herself, but she did feel…compassion at those times, for the man who’d lost two women he loved and been left to raise a lot of children on his own.
While she could be thankful he had not married a third time and added to his Baker’s dozen, she also felt sad that he had been so alone for so long. Of course, those feelings didn’t stop her from feeling conflicted about him dating again. But she felt they indicated some maturity or perhaps personal growth.
She almost thought she heard Zach snort at that last thought. Okay, it was a bit pompous but that didn’t make it any less true. Which made it kind of odd that she was relieved to spot the number she’d been looking for. It’s not like Zach could hear her thinking about him. Good thing since her thoughts had gone off track again. But thankfully, he was miles away.
With one last loo
k around, and a rapidly beating heart, she approached the door. She lifted her fist and hesitated, but the can of worms had already been opened. She closed her other hand around the ring she’d brought with her and knocked.
She was prepared for Charlie to look like Zach. But…
She blinked. “Zach?”
“Took you long enough. Get in here.”
Eleven
“Here sit down, honey,” a soft voice spoke from out of an old Nell’s face. “She looks like she’s going to faint. Charlie, help her.”
“My kids don’t faint,” Zach snapped, and then grabbed her other elbow and steered her to a bland couch. It went, she noted vaguely, with the bland room, if not the inhabitants. Okay, she didn’t know they hadn’t picked it, but it didn’t seem to go with the hiding/not hiding deal. Maybe they’d gone with boring because their lives had been too exciting.
A hand shifted to her neck, and he pushed her head down between her knees. Hannah stared at the tan carpet inches from her nose. Zach avoided tan like the plague. Had almost a love affair with plaid, the bigger the stripes the better. Surely her dad’s brother—
Her thoughts fractured then, and she pushed against Zach’s hold. He let her sit up again.
“You okay?” his tone was gruff, his gaze worried.
She nodded. Managed a shy smile for Ellie, then looked at the other man in the room. A bit taller than Zach, and of course, older. Looked like him, but didn’t. It was the eyes she decided. They had the look of someone who’d taken the long, hard road and still hadn’t found real peace. Maybe never would.
“Hi,” she managed, blinking a bit.
Charlie grinned. “Hey.”
Hannah looked at Ellie again. “Wow. No wonder—” she stopped, not sure how Ellie felt about not being unique.
Ellie sighed ruefully. “Yes. It was rather a shock when we realized Nell had come here to live.”
“Did you know where—” she stopped again, so many questions crowding her throat.
“No.” The shadows in her eyes deepened. “We cut off all contact. We—it was the only way. Or so it seemed then.”
The sound of the words was less certain than the words themselves. For an instant Hannah thought she saw Ellie’s personal hell in her eyes.
“No,” Hannah agreed, comfort the goal, though she didn’t actually know how to give it. “Though maybe someone should have told Nell…”
“Bit of a shock when we saw her picture in an online magazine article,” Charlie agreed.
“She’s very good.” Wow, that was lame and earned her a look from Zach that confirmed lame.
“Of course she is,” Charlie said, almost protectively.
“Does she…”
“Not yet,” Ellie said. Her lips twisted. “We got here the week the shooting started.”
“I think she’d be relieved—” Hannah stopped again. Sarah thought she’d be glad to have a law abiding grandma, except—could they tick off the law-abiding box when they’d faked deaths and identities? Hidden for years and years? Of course, they had better reasons than Nell’s other relatives for their law skirting activities. “There was a lot…going on.”
Zach rolled his eyes, and Charlie and Ellie seemed amused. It helped focus her thoughts some. “Why am I here?”
“That’s a good question,” Zach growled, shooting his brother one of his looks.
Interesting that it bounced off. Hannah would take that class if Charlie offered it.
Charlie didn’t speak. He looked at Hannah, not Zach, one brow arching.
“You need my help.” She held up a hand when it looked like Zach was going to protest. “I’m actually pretty good at what I do, Zach. But this—” she gestured with her hands, “isn’t usually what I do.”
“And yet here you are, not doing what you usually do,” Charlie said. He waited until Ellie sank into a chair, then sat in the chair opposite Hannah. “Sit down, Zach.”
To Hannah’s surprise, he did. This was a new side of her dad, the sibling side, she realized. She’d heard just that tone in Alex’s voice a time or three million.
Charlie, as if he felt the questions trying to scramble out her mouth, held up a hand. “I know it’s not fair, but we need to know what you know.”
Not fair, but life seldom was. “Did you become a cop, too?” she asked, before she thought about it.
Charlie looked amused, but just shook his head. “Later. If there’s time.”
It felt like a cloud moved across the high, hot sun.
“I don’t know that much,” she said.
“You know more than you think you do, or they wouldn’t be having you followed,” Charlie pointed out.
“What—”
“I’m fine, Zach.” She covered his clenched fists with her hand and squeezed. “Later I’ll tell you how I lost them.” She grinned and saw the reluctant twitch at the edges of his mouth. “I’m not sure the tails are related to you two.”
“But you’re not sure they aren’t,” Ellie said.
“I’m not sure of anything,” Hannah admitted. Charlie arched his brows skeptically. “Feelings aren’t facts.”
Charlie grinned, slanting his little brother an ironic look. “Well, give us the facts you feel are important.”
Hannah considered this. “Well, it started with the coffins. You know you’re going to have to explain that, don’t you?”
Ellie laughed. “That was Toni’s idea. None of us thought they’d bury the coffins without looking inside. It was so…convenient.”
“Maybe they wanted to believe it?” Hannah said. “So the ring, if they noticed it, was meant to be a slap in the face to—” she stopped as the shadow came back to Ellie’s eyes but her jaw firmed.
“He ran Charlie off. I wanted him to know we found each other, that his daughter didn’t want him either. I wanted to hurt him.” She looked sad. “Now it doesn’t seem to matter that he never got the message. Age tends to reorganize your priorities.”
Hannah felt the question hovering but couldn’t get it out.
As if she’d asked, Charlie shook his head. “I, we, didn’t kill him.”
Zach gave him a very cop look, which made Charlie’s gaze turn stern.
“If I’d been gonna do it, I’d have done it then. But we didn’t,” he repeated. “He wasn’t worth it then. Not worth it now.” He met Zach’s gaze. “I told you that back then.”
Hannah felt a sort of sigh go through her at the look on Zach’s face. “So you did help them.”
That made the cop look leave. Charlie bit back a grin.
“Did you know they’d come back?” she asked Zach, who shifted uncomfortably.
“He didn’t,” Ellie said firmly.
“But you guessed?”
“I wondered. All the publicity—I figured they’d show up at some point.”
Ellie looked sad. “Maybe we shouldn’t have, but to see—we didn’t know about Toni, not until—”
Charlie took her hand and lifted it to his mouth. The look they exchanged shouldn’t have had an audience.
“Girl needed to know—well, she needed to know,” Charlie said heavily.
“We’ve been hoping things would calm down. We don’t want to make it harder for her.” She looked down for a few seconds, then back up at Hannah. “And, well, we weren’t sure she’d want to see us. We—all of us—let her down. Put her in danger. And there was…Bett.”
Charlie’s hand tightened on her. “In hindsight, the message we left was a very bad idea.”
“I told you that at the time,” Zach growled.
“What were you afraid he’d do?” Hannah asked. It was such old news. Then she got it. “Nell? His own granddaughter?”
“If he thought he could punish me? He didn’t know her.” The shadows in her eyes deepened. “His love for Toni wasn’t healthy. She belonged to him. I belonged to him. And we both betrayed him. He was just waiting. Biding his time.”
“Is that why you took the ring?” Hannah asked.
“She was afraid it would create trouble for Zach, of course,” Ellie said impatiently.
“Would it have?”
Charlie hesitated. “Maybe. If he thought Zach helped Ellie? Then yeah, it would have.”
“What I don’t get, why the brick?”
Charlie and Ellie exchanged puzzled looks. He said, “Brick?”
“Someone stole a brick from one of the coffins.”
Charlie looked interested in that. “They must think that’s where—” he glanced at Ellie, who hesitated, then nodded. “—we hid the proof.”
“The sheets of code?” Hannah asked. Ellie nodded.
“I stole them for Toni, as protection for when—I thought he’d guess, but the papers would keep him in check.” Ellie looked puzzled. “Why take a brick from a coffin?”
Zach and Charlie both frowned, obviously thinking. Finally Zach said, “Maybe one of them wanted the other to think they had found it?”
“Assuming any of them still cared,” Charlie said.
“They were still interested enough to insist on representatives when the coffins were opened,” Hannah said. “What are they?”
“It’s some kind of agreement to kill Zafiro, or proof of it, I think. I just heard bits and pieces. I wasn’t supposed to know, of course. The papers, were in some kind of code to protect each of them from each other. And the rings each had a piece of the solution to the code, part of the key, he said, engraved on them. I took them because I could tell he was afraid of losing it.”
“There’s no statue of limitations on murder,” Hannah said.
“Everyone knew they’d killed Zafiro,” Zach said, “but there was never any proof. We all wondered why they were so eager to get along.”
“That would explain why they were stolen,” Hannah said, thinking out loud and forgetting they didn’t know. “But not by who…”
Ellie’s shoulders dropped a little. “So they are gone.”
Dead Spaces: The Big Uneasy 2.0 Page 14
