Over Maya Dead Body

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Over Maya Dead Body Page 21

by Sandra Orchard


  “It could have been Carly.” Tanner waved off the paramedic attempting to finish his job on Tanner’s arm. “She seemed to think Ben killed her brother. Revenge is a powerful motive.”

  “I don’t buy that. If she believed Ben killed him, she would’ve given him up to the police the instant they arrived on scene.”

  “Well, there is one more possibility we’ve overlooked.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your pal Nate has enemies of his own.”

  I snorted and turned to face the music with Ashley. If Ben didn’t turn up, she’d never forgive me for not calling her the second I found him.

  “Hey.” Tanner grabbed my arm, looking totally serious. “Don’t dismiss the idea. Nate told me about your car trouble.”

  “Yeah? Did he mention the car was in Malgucci’s name? Not Nate’s.”

  “You’re forgetting about his plane getting shot down over Yugoslavia.”

  “Tanner, let the paramedic finish tending your arm. I don’t have time for the games right now.”

  “You should just kiss the guy. Get him out of your system.”

  I’m pretty sure that my eyeballs popped out of my head and bounced back like in those crazy cartoon characters. “I can’t believe we are having this conversation.” I crossed my arms. “No, we aren’t having this conversation, because a conversation takes two people. Two sane people. And you’ve clearly knocked a screw loose.”

  “Oh, c’mon, Serena, you were staring at his lips back there. You think I wouldn’t notice?”

  Oh, great, so I save myself from Nate reading what’s in my eyes, only to make Tanner think . . . “Maybe I was wondering if he kissed as good as you,” I needled, then felt heat suffuse my face as my words replayed in my head.

  Tanner’s smirk told me my botched comeback hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  Perfect. He’d milk that one for the rest of my career.

  A celebratory shout rose from the crowd as a firefighter escorted a limping Ben from around the back of the house. Ashley broke away from Preston, dashed past the officer managing the crowd, and leapt into Ben’s arms.

  Tears burst from my eyes at the touching reunion.

  “Where’d you find him?” I asked the firefighter since Ben was still too busy with Ashley.

  “He jumped out a bedroom window. The closed door saved him from getting smoked, but he sprained his ankle getting out.” The firefighter handed me a framed photograph of a man and two kids digging in the sand at the beach. “He says he had to save this for Carly.”

  I studied the picture, wondering if Charlie and Carly were the children. I could sort of see the resemblance. I flipped it over to see if there was writing on the back.

  Scrawled in black magic marker across the frame’s backing read: Charlie, Carly, and Dad treasure hunting on Chappy.

  Moore crowded in behind me and reached for the photo. “Can I see that?”

  Ben glanced up from hugging his sister for the dozenth time. “The instant I realized the fire was going to destroy every last physical connection Carly had to Charlie, I knew I had to save something for her. And remembered the picture I’d seen beside Charlie’s bed. We lost all the pictures of Ashley and me and our parents in the fire that took their lives.” His voice cracked. “I had to save that for Carly.”

  My eyes teared up a second time. To think I’d been thinking he’d run away when he’d been risking his life in such a selfless, noble act.

  Preston stepped up behind me. “That’s Ben. Always looking for a new angle to score with the women.”

  Huh. Sounded as if Preston didn’t think too highly of his future brother-in-law.

  Moore handed back the picture. “I’ll drive around and see if I can locate Carly.”

  Special Agent Isaak Jackson joined me and apologized for the delay. “Your colleague caught me up on what happened.”

  As the paramedics checked Ben for burns and smoke inhalation, I filled Isaak in on Ben’s story about Charlie and the parcel. “I think it’d be better if you finish the interview,” I said.

  “Agreed.”

  I introduced him to Ben, then returned to Ben’s charred, borrowed truck and fixated on the cracked front headlight.

  Nate leaned over my shoulder, his breath whispering through my hair. “It’s missing a few pieces.”

  I straightened slowly, our breaths mingling as I turned. “Hey,” I said softly.

  He tucked a stray hair behind my cheek, his gaze dipping to my lips.

  From somewhere behind me, I heard the distinctive sound of Tanner clearing his throat and took an abrupt step back. “Uh, how’s the arm?”

  “Fine. Four butterfly bandages and a dose of antiseptic took care of it. The grilling by the investigating officer was more painful.” Nate paused and glanced at his phone, thumbed in OK, then returned it to his pocket and his attention to me. “I think the officer thought I was a drug dealer. He wasn’t buying my innocent bystander line until Tanner vouched for me.”

  I couldn’t help the surprised look that must’ve crossed my face.

  Nate chuckled. “Yeah, surprised me too.” He squatted and took a closer look at the damaged headlight. “Did the police find evidence of a shattered headlight after your dad’s hit-and-run?”

  “Not that they mentioned or I saw.” My gaze strayed to Ashley hovering over Ben.

  “I guess you’re hoping it wouldn’t be a match if there was?” Nate said.

  I let out a sigh. “Yeah, I want to believe him.” If he’d save that picture of Carly’s father for her, how could he murder the man who’d lovingly raised him since he was twelve? “As you no doubt overheard, Aunt Martha thinks the culprit used a rental that was returned the next day.”

  Nate nodded. “We still have Charlie’s Jeep to check out, too, right?”

  “You sure you want to be within a hundred yards of me? Let alone in the same vehicle? Being the occasional target kind of goes with my job description. But it’s not what you signed on for.”

  He searched my eyes and after an eternal soul-stirring moment seemed to find what he was looking for. “Yes, it is.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Or have you forgotten why I flew here in the first place?”

  An indescribable warmth spread through my chest at the intensity of his voice.

  Tanner joined us and snagged my gaze.

  His earlier kiss-him comment echoed through my mind and my face heated. “The guy throwing the flaming bottle must’ve mistaken Nate for Ben,” I said, like I should’ve when he needled me half an hour ago.

  Tanner scrutinized Nate then Ben. “Same average height. Same average build. Same average shade of brown hair. Yeah, could be if you ignore the fact Nate doesn’t have a beard or shoulder-length hair.”

  I resisted the compulsion to punch his so-not-average muscled arm. If I let his goading irk me, it would only encourage him. “That’s a new look for Ben. He’s been in the jungle awhile.”

  “I see you let the other agent take over Ben’s interrogation,” Tanner said.

  “Yeah.” Someone with more emotional distance than I had needed to. My head was spinning from the dozen different directions this case was pulling me.

  26

  Thirty minutes later, as Nate and I prepared to head to the police compound, Tanner tapped the windshield of the Land Rover Winston had lent us. “Is this bulletproof glass? I think this is bulletproof glass.”

  “Could be. Winston is former Secret Service.”

  Tanner cocked his head and scrutinized the corner of the windshield, then shoved Nate aside and stuck his head inside to look at whatever had caught his eye from another angle. “He’s got a surveillance camera on this thing. And it looks like it’s still running.” He sank into the driver’s seat and surveyed the knobs, dials, and buttons on the dash. “Give me the keys.” He flapped his fingers at Nate.

  Nate handed them over and Tanner scrolled through options on the mid-dash screen. “Try auxiliary under A/V,” Nate suggested.

&n
bsp; Tanner gritted his teeth but did as Nate suggested. The camera’s view appeared on the screen.

  I lunged into the seat beside him. “How do we rewind?”

  Tanner tapped the screen in three different places but nothing happened.

  Nate leaned in and over him and two taps later, we were watching the events of the past couple of hours rewind at ten times the speed.

  “We’re getting close,” I said as I appeared in view running toward the burning pickup. “Slow it down.”

  Tanner tapped it to two times the speed, then hit PAUSE as the gunman’s truck backed up to the corner.

  “No, keep rewinding,” I said. “I want to know how long it was sitting there watching us.”

  He hit rewind until the truck disappeared from the corner, then he hit PLAY.

  “2:46,” I read from the screen as the car parked at the corner. “A minute or two after Carly went to the bathroom.”

  Tanner’s walk toward Nate blocked the camera’s view of the driver as he turned the corner. Then, even though I knew what was coming, I jumped as a bottle flew from the back window, and Ben’s pickup burst into flames. Tanner opened fire. Nate dove. The suspect’s vehicle kept rolling toward ours. A second bottle flew from the back window on the other side of the truck—the one that hit Charlie’s house.

  “Freeze it there.” I squinted at the screen. “It’s definitely a Cherokee, like Nate said.” And it looked uncomfortably similar to the truck that hit Dad. The black-and-white image prohibited us from confirming the color.

  “Is there a way to upload the video to a computer so we can enhance the image? See if we can make out the faces as the Jeep got closer?”

  “Yeah.” Nate thumbed something into his phone. “We need Winston’s password, then we can upload via Bluetooth. I’m sending Martha a text now.”

  “The driver’s wearing a ball cap with a half-circle logo on it.” Tanner freeze-framed the image. “See that? Recognize it?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.” Tanner jotted notes in a notepad and climbed out of the driver’s seat. “I’ll get the general description to the officer in charge and meet you at the police compound. Hopefully by the time we’re done there, you’ll have heard back from your aunt.” He looked at Nate. “Be careful.”

  “How’d you know so much about the camera system in this thing?” I asked as Nate consulted a text on his phone and then keyed something into the vehicle’s console.

  He shrugged. “Had a lot of time to kill when we first arrived and you asked me to wait out here.” He spread his finger on his phone’s screen and looked in satisfaction at the image—a grainy side profile of the truck’s driver. “Got it.”

  My heart flip-flopped as I watched how intently he worked. “I’m glad you’re okay,” I said softly.

  He glanced up and with a tender smile tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m glad you’re glad,” he murmured. He leaned forward slightly, and my breath caught.

  He was going to kiss me. Was he going to kiss me?

  Heat flashed over me faster than the flames from that stupid Molotov cocktail.

  He grazed his knuckles down the curve of my cheek, his face close enough that a hint of spearmint wafted to me on his soft breath.

  I loved spearmint.

  Nate smiled and I suddenly heard Tanner’s mocking just kiss him and get it over with sing-songing through my mind.

  Tanner needed to get out of my head. The thought of Tanner’s kiss especially needed to get out of my head.

  Nate’s thumb brushed across my lips, but a little of the light seemed to slip from his eyes.

  He pressed his lips together and straightened, his hand dropping to the steering wheel.

  Huh?

  What just happened?

  “We better get going. We have a killer to track down.”

  Ohh-kay then.

  Men. No wonder I usually stuck to chasing down criminals. At least they were predictable.

  Besides, emotions clouded judgment. An FBI agent couldn’t let emotions get the better of her. “I never should’ve involved you.”

  “You didn’t. I volunteered.”

  “I could’ve got you killed.”

  “No, an idiot in a baseball cap could have. You had nothing to do with it.”

  “You’d be at home safe and sound right now if it wasn’t for me.”

  Nate studied me for an uncomfortably long time. “Playing it safe is overrated.” His head tilted, his gaze momentarily slipping to my lips.

  The hint of regret that flickered in his eyes sent a crazy jolt to my heart. Was he playing it safe when he didn’t kiss me?

  His gaze shifted back to the windshield.

  “I’m paid to put my life on the line,” I said, glibly.

  “And riding shotgun for you is a risk I’m willing to take.”

  I crossed my arms, pressing them against the ridiculous rat-a-tat in my chest. “Well, I’m not.”

  “Good thing I’m driving then.” He turned the key in the ignition.

  “It’s not smart to partner with someone you care about. It could affect your judgment.”

  The rat-a-tat came again. Only it wasn’t in my chest. Tanner tapped his knuckles on my passenger window. Heat climbed to my cheeks as I rolled it down, wondering just how long he’d been standing there.

  The rigid slant of his jaw suggested it’d been long enough. “One of the firefighters said the ball cap is from a pub in Oak Bluffs that sponsors a baseball team.” He relayed the address. “Want to go there first? Or the police compound?”

  “How about you head straight there, and we’ll do a quick stop at the compound to inspect the front of Charlie’s truck, then meet you there?”

  He gave a curt nod and strode to his car.

  “You telling me you don’t care about Tanner?” Nate said.

  “What?”

  “You said it’s not smart to partner with someone you care about. You telling me you don’t care about Tanner?”

  “No. I mean, yes. Of course, I care about him, but not . . . in that way.” My cheeks felt as if they were on fire. I bit my lip, remembering the kiss Tanner laid on me last night. Oh, man, I was a mess. Maybe Mom was right. If I dated more . . . a kiss wouldn’t have been such a big deal. Right?

  Nate reached across the console and squeezed my hand. “I don’t scare away that easy.”

  Electricity zinged up my arm at his warm touch. I was in big trouble. Uncle Jack was dead. I needed to focus and all I could think about . . . I tore my gaze away from Nate’s mouth. “Okay, then.” I cleared the rattle from my throat. “Let’s roll.”

  Nate backed away from the fire trucks blocking the street and pulled a U-turn.

  My cell phone rang and Preston’s home number appeared on the screen. I sucked in a big breath and prayed Mom hadn’t heard about the excitement as I clicked CONNECT.

  “Serena, are Preston and Ashley with you?”

  “Uh”—I glanced out the window as we passed where they’d been parked—“not anymore. I imagine he and Ashley followed the uh.” I caught myself before saying ambulance, not wanting to have to explain why Ben was on his way to the hospital for smoke inhalation. “Uh, are with Ben. Why?”

  “Are they coming back here before the memorial service?” Anxiety rippled through her voice. “We don’t have a car to get there. You heard that Carmen’s rental had a mechanical problem?”

  “Yeah, I heard that.” She didn’t know the half of it. Thank goodness. She’d be in a full-blown panic.

  “And he’s having trouble getting a replacement car. Can you believe that? It isn’t even summer yet. Winston dropped Aunt Martha here and then went off with Carmen to see what they could drum up. But what if they don’t get back in time? We don’t want to miss the service. And Preston’s not answering his phone.”

  “Hold on a minute, Mom.” I covered the phone and asked Nate where he parked his rental since we drove to Oak Bluffs with Carmen and Aunt Martha.

&nb
sp; “In Preston’s driveway.”

  “And the keys?”

  He reached into his pants pocket and came up empty-handed. He checked the backseat. “They’re in my jacket pocket, but I must’ve left it in Carmen’s car.”

  I uncovered the phone’s mic. “Did Aunt Martha bring Nate’s jacket home with her?”

  Aunt Martha must’ve overheard the question because a second later I heard “found them” in the background.

  “If we or Carmen or Preston and Ashley don’t get back by five thirty, then you can drive Nate’s rental to the church, okay?” I said.

  “Oh dear, are you sure we’re allowed to do that?”

  No, but . . . “Mom, it’ll be fine.” I hoped.

  Nate found the police compound in record time, and it took even less time to ascertain that the front of Charlie’s truck was dent free and devoid of any other discernible forensics evidence.

  “I’m glad it’s clean,” I admitted. “Marianne has enough on her plate with losing her fiancé and her son, on top of her son being investigated for drug and/or antiquity smuggling. I didn’t want to add a hit-and-run to the list.”

  “I heard the victim’s fishing rod was caught on some debris around the mouth of Tisbury Great Pond,” the tech who showed us the truck said. “Looks as if he could’ve simply lost his footing while fishing.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what his killer wants us to think,” I muttered as Nate and I returned to the Land Rover.

  He headed for the pub. “You sure you’re not just seeing what you expect to see? Accidents do happen.”

  “You honestly think Charlie’s death was an accident?”

  “Not if Ben’s telling the truth. But we’re chasing ghosts. Apart from Ben’s statement, we have no evidence antiquities have even been smuggled into the country.”

  “We will when that package arrives. Trust me, Ben’s not that good a liar.”

  “For Ashley’s sake and your family’s, I hope you’re right.” Nate parked behind Tanner’s rental, in front of a pub sporting the same logo as the one on the driver’s ball cap.

 

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