Gina Cresse - Devonie Lace 05 - A Deadly Change of Luck

by Gina Cresse

  As I expected, she soon bounced back out of the office with a set of keys in one hand and a huge smile painted across her face. She climbed into a shiny new Volkswagen. I was puzzled at her choice. She had a million dollars to play with. She could have bought a Mercedes or a Jaguar or any other extravagant automobile, but instead, she bought a bright green Bug.

  As she pulled out of the dealership, I instructed my taxi driver to follow her. I hoped she’d know her way around the streets a little better than she did the sidewalks, otherwise, this cab ride could cost me a fortune. No such luck. I bet we passed the same street corner no less than five times looking for whatever it was she was after. “She lost,” the taxi driver kept announcing over his shoulder and laughing as the miles racked up on the meter.

  “I know. Just keep following her,” I urged him as I peeked into my wallet to see how much cash I’d brought with me.

  Casey finally landed at the Oasis Beach Resort. She pulled into the parking lot and searched for a spot far away from any other cars. While she eased up and down the aisles, I had the driver park and wait with the other cabs in front of the hotel. When Casey finally picked a spot and parked, I paid the driver and got out of the cab.

  I watched her disappear into the resort’s main lobby. I pulled my cell phone from my purse and dialed Craig’s number.

  “Okay, you’re on,” I said. “I’m at the Oasis Beach Resort. I’ll meet you out front.”

  Within an hour, Craig and our co-conspirator pulled into the resort parking lot.

  “Where’s your car?” Craig asked me.

  “I left it back near the bank. We can get it later. She’s staying here, so I think our plan will work perfectly.”

  Peter Champion parked his car next to Craig’s and stepped out. He gazed at the surroundings, adjusted the ball cap on his head and grinned at me. “Baby Bear has landed,” he said with a wink.

  “Baby Bear?” I asked, puzzled.

  He and Craig exchanged amused glances.

  “That’s his code name. You’re Mama Bear, I’m Papa Bear, and he’s—“

  “Baby Bear. Clever. And I suppose Casey’s Goldilocks?”

  “I told you she’d catch on,” Craig said to Peter. “She’s a pro at this kind of stuff.”

  I scoffed at them both. “You call Sam?”

  “Right before we left. He’s up-to-speed,” Craig answered.

  “Did he say anything?” I asked.

  “Just to remember that officially, he has nothing to do with this plan of yours, but unofficially, he’s behind us all the way,” Craig said.

  “Which means?”

  “He’ll bake us a cake with a file in it if we end up in prison,” Peter replied, chuckling.

  I chuckled along with him. “Didn’t Craig tell you that Sam put me in jail once? For interfering with an investigation?”

  The smile left Peter’s face. “He did?”

  Craig patted him on the back. “Not to worry, Peter. That was back before Sam got to know my lovely wife. She’s grown on him now.”

  Peter forced a smile, but still seemed a little tense.

  “Come on. We’ve got work to do,” I said, taking Craig by the hand and leading him toward the hotel lobby. Peter followed.

  We made our way to our two-room suite, where we quickly locked the door and spread out a map of the resort on a table. Craig pulled three walkie-talkies out of his sports bag and set them on the table next to the map.

  “What are these for?” I asked, picking one up to inspect it.

  “Communication,” Craig answered.

  “You don’t think we’ll look a little conspicuous? Three adults playing with walkie-talkies?” I said.

  Craig scoffed. “Have you looked around? Every other person out there has a cell-phone stuck to his ear half the time. We’ll fit right in.”

  I could see there’d be no talking him out of these toys. I set the device back on the table and studied the map.

  “Do we know what room she’s in?” Peter asked.

  “No. You stay here in the room so she doesn’t spot you before we’re ready. Craig and I’ll wander around the place. She can’t stay in her room forever. Chances are, she’ll spend some time at the pool, or the beach, or the bar.”

  Craig made each of us take a walkie-talkie and test them before we left the room.

  Craig checked the beach and the pool, describing every revealing bathing suit he saw to me over the walkie-talkie. I checked the restaurant and lounge.

  “Mama Bear, this is Papa Bear. Do you read?” I heard Craig whisper over the walkie-talkie.

  “What is it, Craig?” I replied.

  “Papa Bear,” he insisted.

  I rolled my eyes and played along. “Okay, Papa Bear. What is it?”

  “No sign of her. Let’s meet at the appointed spot,” he said.

  We rendezvoused behind a group of palm trees in front of the hotel lobby. By six in the evening, neither of us had spotted her. “I’ll let Peter know what’s going on,” I said as I held the walkie-talkie to my mouth.

  “Okay. Then let’s switch. You check the beach and pool, and I’ll check inside,” Craig said. “Let’s meet back here in an hour.”

  “Okay.”

  I wandered around the pool and then strolled along the beach. Thirty minutes later, the walkie-talkie squawked, then Craig’s voice rang excitedly through the speaker.

  “I have Goldilocks in sight. Looks like she’s gonna sample some porridge,” he said.

  “She’s going into the restaurant?” I asked.

  “That’s right,” Craig confirmed. “You ready Peter?”

  “On my way,” Peter’s voice answered.

  Craig and I hunkered down behind a potted fern and watched Peter in action. He turned off his walkie-talkie and strolled into the restaurant.

  Peter tipped the waiter ten dollars to seat him at a table directly in front of Casey’s. She sat alone, sipping a colorful drink with a pineapple wedge and umbrella poking out of the top. When he walked past her table, he made eye contact, then stopped in utter surprise.

  We couldn’t hear his words, but whatever he said seemed to be working its magic.

  Casey gaped at him for a moment, then smiled and graciously offered him a seat at her table. He took her hand and held on to it as he sat next to her. The pair chatted and reminisced like they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other for years. Come to think of it, that probably was exactly what they were—or maybe they’d been more than friends. Peter would never confess to being any more than her art teacher, but I had my suspicions.

  “Man, he’s smoother than a silk tie,” Craig commented as he strained to get a better view.

  “I told you. You should see him with his students. I figured Casey would warm right up to him. She’s here, all alone. She’s probably scared. He’s a familiar face—not threatening. And you’re right, he’s about as smooth as they come.”

  This was what I was counting on. Our plan was for Peter to get her to let her guard down. If she confessed to him that she was in some sort of trouble, he was to offer her a better hiding place on his sailboat. Even if she kept quiet about her predicament, he would invite her to go sailing with him for a couple of weeks. I’d given him some snapshots of the Plan C to show her. She’d have to know she’d be almost impossible to find out on the open ocean. I was pretty sure she’d take him up on his offer.

  We watched Peter charm his prey as we sat smugly in our hiding place, proud at how well the plan was working. He pulled the photographs out of his pocket and handed them to her, one by one. She seemed impressed. Great. We were to the point of inviting her to the boat. After about fifteen minutes, Casey excused herself, we assumed to go to the ladies room. Peter squeezed her hand briefly before she left, then relaxed and sat back in his seat, waiting for his new companion to return.

  I checked my watch. Casey had been gone for five minutes. I wasn’t too concerned. She was probably re-applying all her makeup, re-styling her hair,
and triple-checking her outfit. I could see the sign for the restrooms from my position. I stood up. “I’m just gonna go check on her,” I said.

  Craig nodded, but kept watching Peter.

  When I walked into the restroom, it was empty. I rushed back out and tried to spot her. The only way for her to get past us was if she’d gone out through the kitchen, rather than through the dining room. I raced through the kitchen and out to the parking lot. I spotted Casey throwing a bag into her car and hopping into the driver’s seat.

  I grabbed the walkie-talkie. “Papa Bear! This is Mama Bear! Goldilocks has flown the coop! I repeat, she’s on the run!”

  I raced to Craig’s car and reached it just as he came blasting out of the hotel. I pulled my set of keys from my purse and jumped into the driver’s side. He darted across the parking lot and jumped into the passenger seat just as I was pulling out of the parking spot.

  “Where is she?” he asked, out of breath.

  I pointed to the red taillights that were just disappearing around the corner. “Over there, in the green Volkswagen.”

  I punched the accelerator and headed for the parking lot exit. A string of cars kept me from pulling out onto the main drag. “Come on, come on, come on,” I chanted, trying to will the traffic to cooperate. Finally, a red light stopped the traffic, and I squealed the tires as I sped out onto the boulevard.

  “Can you see her?” I asked, scanning the road ahead.

  “No. She’s too far ahead of us,” Craig said, straining to see in the dark.

  I drove to the next signal and waited at the red light. “I wonder what spooked her?” I said, impatiently drumming the steering wheel with my thumbs. I peered out all the windows trying to spot the little green Bug.

  “I don’t know. You don’t suppose Peter tipped her off, do you?”

  “It crossed my mind. Either way, she’s like a scared rabbit now. I hope we haven’t lost her for good.” The light turned green and I lurched out into the intersection. Just as I crossed, a green Volkswagen screeched to a stop on the cross street. “That’s her!” I blurted, spinning the wheel to turn into a gas station on the corner.

  “Take it easy,” Craig said. “Don’t want to let her know we’re following her.”

  I eased into a parking space and watched her car. “She’s probably lost. She’s even worse than I am. I’ve never seen anyone spend more time going around in circles.”

  Her light turned green and she moved hesitantly into the intersection, as if she were debating which way to turn. I slowly backed out of the parking spot and pulled onto the road behind her.

  “Okay, now just hang back a little,” Craig instructed.

  “I will. Just don’t let me lose her.”

  Just as I said it, she gunned the little engine and darted in and out of traffic like an Indy racer.

  “She’s getting away,” Craig said, peering over the dashboard to keep her in view.

  I checked over my shoulder and changed lanes. I jammed my foot into the accelerator and weaved in and out of traffic to catch up to her.

  “She turned right at that next street,” Craig said, pointing through the windshield.

  “I see her,” I said, barreling around the corner after her. I kept enough distance between us that she shouldn’t suspect we were following her. She seemed to be generating her own panic. Her speed kept increasing, but I hung back just enough to keep her lights in view.

  “I didn’t know those little cars could move that fast,” Craig said. We had left the congestion of the city traffic and were on a dark, lightly traveled road, headed south. “How fast are we going?”

  I checked the speedometer. “Eighty-eight,” I answered.

  The road was rough and full of potholes. Up until that point, it was also straight, but something looked awry up ahead. “Slow down, Dev,” Craig said, bracing himself by putting his hand on the dash.

  Casey had lost her senses. She was driving like a maniac. She didn’t see the curve in the road, or maybe she thought she could make it, but the laws of physics proved her wrong. From our distant view, we could see the lights of her car tumble over and over, like a wild ride at the county fair.

  I skidded to a stop at the point where she left the road. Craig grabbed a flashlight and was out of the car before I could set the parking brake. There were no other cars around for miles. I ran after him, down a steep embankment to the wreck.

  Craig and I struggled to get the door open. The car was upside down, and Casey hadn’t taken the time to fasten her seatbelt. She looked pretty banged up, but she was alive.

  “I smell gasoline,” I said as I reached in and turned the key in the ignition to the off position.

  Craig handed me the flashlight. “Me too. We better get her out of here before it blows.”

  Casey moaned as Craig and I pulled her out of the car. We drug her as far away as we thought was safe, then Craig began examining her injuries. Seconds later, the Volkswagen’s gas tank exploded. We both jumped at the sound and cringed as the entire car was engulfed in flames.

  “Casey? Can you hear me?” Craig shouted at her.

  She mumbled something inaudible, but nodded her head.

  “I’m a doctor, Casey. I work at San Diego General. You’re gonna be okay, but we have to get you to a hospital. Do you understand?” he continued yelling.

  She nodded again, then opened her mouth to speak. She had to repeat herself three times before we could understand her. “Not here,” she said.

  “Not here? You mean not in Mexico?” Craig pressed.

  She nodded. “Get me home.”

  Craig and I exchanged glances. We wanted to take her back, but we hadn’t counted on this. I didn’t know how badly hurt she was. “What do you think?” I said.

  Craig looked up the hill toward the road where our car was parked. “She’s got a broken arm and probably a concussion. Possibly some internal injuries.”

  Casey opened her eyes and grabbed his arm. “Get me out of Mexico!” she demanded.

  “Okay, okay. Calm Down, Casey. We’ll get you out of here,” Craig assured her.

  We carried her up the embankment and carefully placed her in the back seat of our car. Craig covered her with a blanket he kept in the trunk. Casey was moving in and out of consciousness. “Casey? Can you hear me?” Craig asked her before we closed the door. She nodded.

  “Keep this blanket over you until we get past the border.”

  She didn’t speak, but I could see her nod slightly under the blanket.

  Craig got behind the wheel and I took the passenger seat. When we got to the border, we were waved through without incident. Casey looked like a sleeping child in the back seat, and with her entire body covered by the blanket, her injuries went unnoticed.

  I phoned Sam and told him to meet us at the hospital. We drove directly to the emergency entrance. Craig supervised the transport of Casey into the emergency room while I explained to Sam what happened. He and I sat in the waiting room until Craig came to update us on Casey’s condition.

  Casey’s parents hurried into the waiting room just as Craig came in. “Where is she? Is she okay? What’s happened?” Otis Biggsmuth blurted, not giving Craig a chance to answer.

  Craig tried to calm him down. “Are you Casey’s parents?” he asked.

  “Yes. Yes. Is she okay?” Mrs. Biggsmuth said.

  “She’s going to be fine. She’s got a broken arm and a concussion, but no internal injuries. She was very lucky.”

  Craig hadn’t even finished his sentence, and Sam was gone. He was on his way to the emergency room.

  Otis Biggsmuth tried to stop him. “Wait a minute! Where’s he going? You tell him to leave my little girl alone!” he hollered.

  Craig ran after both of them, and I followed. Sam pushed his way to the gurney where Casey laid, staring at the ceiling. Otis grabbed him by the arm and knocked him down. I could see fire in Sam’s eyes. He got to his feet, pointed a finger at Otis and clenched his jaw. “You do that agai
n, and I’ll cuff you to the bumper of one of those ambulances out there and drag your sorry hide to Canada and back,” he hissed.

  Otis didn’t back down. “Go ahead. I’ll sue you and the entire department for—“

  “Go away, Dad,” Casey mumbled, loud enough to be heard.

  “What did you say?” Otis demanded, like a drill sergeant, ready to ambush.

  By this time, Mrs. Biggsmuth had joined the scene. Craig was trying his best to herd everyone out of the emergency room, but Sam and Otis were at a standoff.

  “I said go away. I don’t want you here,” Casey repeated. She made a sweeping motion with her splinted arm as if to clear the entire room.

  A pair of muscle-bound orderlies arrived just in time to help Craig regain control. He made everyone return to the waiting room until Casey could be transported to a private room. Everyone except Sam, who refused to let Casey out of his site until she was in police custody. He called the station to have an officer stand guard at her room.

  I wanted to avoid Otis Biggsmuth. He was as mad as a fighting bull, and I didn’t want to be around if he punched a hole in something, or someone. I wandered back down the hall and around the corner to find Sam and Craig conversing. Craig waved me to join them.

  “How is she?” I asked.

  “She’s fine, and she’s under arrest,” Sam answered.

  “Already? But I thought—“

  “It was her idea. She wouldn’t stop confessing until I let Sam in to read her her rights,” Craig explained.

  I moved closer to Craig and squeezed his hand. “I think we might be in some kind of trouble, though. She might not have crashed if we weren’t chasing her. I know her father will want to hang us out to dry.”

  “That’s only if he knows, which I doubt he ever will. Besides, even if he does make a fuss, it’s my opinion that you were a couple of good Samaritans who just happened to be driving by and saw the accident,” Sam assured me. “You two saved her life.”