by Cindi Myers
“If your parents died, you would inherit the business,” Laura said.
“I don’t care what kind of monster you think I am, but I wouldn’t do that.” Parker’s voice rose. “What do I have to do to get you to believe me?”
“I believe you,” Laura said. “But if Merry thought your parents’ deaths would get her what she wanted, do you think she’d try to hurry things along?”
Jace recognized the fear that blossomed in Parker’s eyes. The handcuffed man opened his mouth as if to protest, but no words came out. “She asked me about Leo one day, not long after she figured out what I’d done with the Stomach Soothers,” Parker said. “I told her the mad bomber story.” He wet his lips. “I didn’t think anything of it, but then later, Leo told me Merry had been to see him. He said she’d been really nice and asked about his job, and agreed with him that the Strouds—my mom and dad—were as good as murderers.”
“When did he tell you that?” Jace asked.
“We met at the lake one evening, a few days before his mother’s funeral. I’d heard what he was saying around town—that my family had killed his mother. I tried to talk some sense to him, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“What about the money you paid him?” Laura asked.
“It really was for the funeral.” He looked pained. “But Merry volunteered to deliver it to him. She said Leo would take it better coming from her, that the two of them were friends now, because they both knew what it was like to get a raw deal from the Strouds.”
“That’s pretty harsh,” Jace said.
“She could say anything she wanted to me now and I couldn’t do anything about it.”
Laura’s chair scraped back and she stood. “That’s all the questions we have for now.”
She left the room, Jace on her heels. “We need to find Merry,” she said as they hurried down the hall.
“You think she planted those bombs,” Jace said.
“Yes, and you saw those notes she sent to Donna. She isn’t finished yet.”
Chapter Nineteen
Merry hefted the second of two large suitcases into the trunk of her car, then slammed the lid. She had spent too much time packing, but it had been hard to decide what to take. She would be gone a long time, and she wasn’t sure what she’d need. In the end, she’d consoled herself with the knowledge that she had enough money to buy new things. And what she did have was bound to go farther in South America, right?
Besides, she had a lot more money now. The cops—and eventually Parker—would think she’d just stolen Parker’s passbook to turn over to the police, but she’d also taken his passwords, and even the answers to his secret questions that were part of account security. With that information, she’d been able to transfer most of the $10 million balance into her own account. It had been so easy. And with that kind of money, who needed the Strouds? They were nobodies.
She slid into the driver’s seat and drove toward town. She had one quick stop before she headed to the airport. In the oppressive afternoon heat, the trailer looked even shabbier than she remembered, the heart-shaped catalpa leaves drooping.
She parked in the shade of that tree and hurried up the walk. The cheap lock popped with one thrust of her credit card between the door and the jamb, and Merry was in and out in less than five minutes. Then again, she’d had a lot of practice delivering her little gifts.
Humming to herself, she pressed down on the gas, the speedometer climbing as she rushed toward the airport.
* * *
“SHE’S NOT HERE,” Laura said as Jace pulled into Merry’s driveway. “Her car isn’t out front.”
“Maybe she has parking in the back,” Jace said. He doubted it, but it didn’t pay to overlook any possibility.
“I hope you’re right.” Laura shoved open the door of the truck and raced up the drive, Jace at her heels. She pounded on the front door. “Merry! It’s Laura. I need to talk to you. It’s an emergency.”
No answer. Jace pressed his ear to the door. No sounds of movement inside. He stepped back.
“You need to break the door down.”
“Without a warrant?” He feigned shock.
She scowled at him. He stepped back, then aimed a powerful kick at the door, just above the knob. The wood splintered. Another hard kick and it sagged inward. He drew his weapon, and then they went in. “FBI!” he shouted.
The only answer was the low hum of the air conditioning.
“I’ll take the bedroom. You search the rest of the house,” Laura said.
“I love it when you’re bossy,” he called after her.
A search of the living room revealed no Merry, but in the dining room, a piece of white paper taped to the table caught his attention.
ALL THAT’S LEFT ARE TWO. GUESS WHO?
Laura appeared in the doorway to the dining room. “She’s gone,” she said. “There are too many empty hangers in her closet, and there’s no makeup or shampoo in the bathroom.”
“She left a note.” Jace gestured to the table.
Laura glanced at the note, then headed for the door. “I’ll call the team while you drive. The local police can put out an APB in case she’s driving somewhere.”
Jace finished the thought. “Meanwhile, we’ve got to drive to the airport.”
* * *
MERRY PULLED INTO the valet lane for airport parking. No more economy lot for her. She handed the attendant her key, flagged down a red cap to take her luggage and gave him the name of her airline. She bypassed the waiting crowd and strolled to the first class desk. “Enjoy your flight, Ms. Winger,” the agent said.
Yes! She could definitely get used to service like this.
She glanced around as she made her way to the security checkpoint. No one paid any attention to her. She’d taken a chance, leaving that note, but she figured Laura and her fellow feds would be busy with Parker for the next little while.
The dumb sap. He’d been stupid to think he could get away with poisoning people in the first place, and then he had made things worse by trying to play her. If he had only married her when she asked him to, she would have taken care of everything. Instead, he’d almost gotten himself blown up—twice—and now he was going to jail for the rest of his life.
She reached her gate just as the agent was calling for first class passengers. She handed over her boarding pass and walked down the Jetway to her comfortable seat. Moments later, she was sipping a glass of champagne and contemplating the future. She’d do some shopping tomorrow—buy a new bikini, or several, and clothes more suitable for the tropics. Then she’d visit a real estate agent and look into renting a nice villa. One in a good neighborhood, with security.
She only regretted she couldn’t stay in Mayville to hear about the last two bombs. Leo had balked at making six for her at first, but she had promised to find the person who had killed his mother and make them pay. That, and the promise of mind-blowing sex, had persuaded him. She had never intended to deliver on the sex, but he didn’t know that.
Then she had sworn to find him and castrate him if he ever told a soul about her. She had made sure he believed her, too.
Men. They were so easy to manipulate.
The last few passengers filed on and the flight attendants began closing overhead bins and readying for takeoff. Merry leaned back and closed her eyes, some of the tension that had been building these last few weeks easing away. This time tomorrow she’d be sipping a cool drink in the hot sun, planning the rest of a life of luxury.
* * *
“I’VE GOT A list of all the flights leaving from Yeager Airport in the next three hours,” Laura said as Jace pulled into the valet lane for airport parking. “We’re lucky this isn’t a bigger airport.”
“How many flights?” Jace asked as he handed the attendant his keys.
“Five.”
Jace pulled up Merry’
s picture on his phone and showed it to the attendant. “Has this woman been through here in the last hour or so?” he asked.
The young man studied the photo, then shook his head. “I haven’t seen her.”
Jace turned as a second man approached. “Have you seen her?” he asked.
The second man’s eyes widened. “Yeah, she was just here—maybe half an hour ago.”
“What was she driving?” Laura asked.
“A white Chevy sedan.”
“Thanks.” Jace and Laura sprinted into the terminal.
“You take the desks on the right, I’ll take the left,” Laura said as they reached the check-in level.
Passengers grumbled as Jace cut to the front of the line at the first desk, but his badge silenced the agent’s rebuke. “Merry Winger,” he said. “Has she checked in here? She may have been using another name, but she looks like this.” He showed the picture.
He struck out at the first two desks, but at the third, the agent verified that Merry Winger had checked in forty minutes before, using a one-way ticket with a final destination of Rio de Janeiro.
Jace texted Laura and headed to security. She met him there and they badged their way to the gate. An air marshal, alerted by TSA, met them. “The plane has already pulled away from the Jetway,” the marshal said.
“Then they need to come back,” Laura said.
“And don’t let her know why the plane is returning,” Jace said. “She’s already killed at least three people. There’s no telling what she’ll do if she’s cornered.”
“Understood,” the marshal said. “We’ll do what we can to make this seem routine.”
* * *
MERRY OPENED HER eyes as the speaker overhead crackled to life. “Folks, this is the captain speaking. We’ve got to return to the gate for a moment. No need for alarm, just a routine precaution. We promise to have you all on your way as quickly as possible.”
Merry’s stomach fluttered. She flagged down the flight attendant. “Why are we returning to the gate?” she asked. “I have a connection to make in Charlotte.”
“You shouldn’t have any trouble with your connection,” she said. “The pilot is telling us this is only a quick stop.”
“But why?” Merry asked, anxiety building. “We were already on the runway. They can’t just make us go back.”
“It happens.” The flight attendant shrugged. “Try not to stress. Would you like another glass of champagne?”
Merry had just accepted the champagne when the flight reached the terminal. But instead of parking at a gate, the plane stopped away from the gates. “What’s happening?” Merry asked, trying to see across the aisle and out the window that faced the terminal.
“They’re bringing out one of those rolling stairs,” a man across the aisle said.
“I bet they’re boarding some bigwig who was late for the flight,” another man said.
“Maybe it’s a celebrity,” a woman suggested.
“It’s two people,” the first man said, craning to see out the window. “Nobody I recognize, though.”
Two people. Merry unbuckled her seat belt and scanned the aisle, searching for some avenue of escape. She didn’t know for sure that the two people were FBI agents or police, but she wanted to be prepared, just in case.
She stood and the flight attendant hurried to her. “You need to remain in your seat, with your seat belt fastened,” the attendant said.
Merry offered an apologetic smile. “I really need to use the ladies’ room,” she said. “All that champagne.”
“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait a few minutes more.” The flight attendant blocked the aisle, refusing to let Merry move past.
Behind her, the exit door swung open. Laura entered first, followed by Jace. “Hello, Merry,” Laura said.
Merry shoved the flight attendant aside. Someone screamed as Merry raced past, through the curtain separating first class from economy. “Stop that woman!” Jace shouted.
A man stood in the aisle, but Merry plowed past him, sending him staggering back into the lap of a woman seated beside the aisle.
Someone else grabbed her arm and refused to let go. She jammed her elbow into his jaw, but still he wouldn’t release her. She turned to hit him again, then Laura tackled her, taking her to the floor. Strong arms dragged Merry’s hands behind her back and cuffed her, and then stronger arms pulled her to her feet.
“Merry Winger, you’re under arrest for three counts of murder,” Laura said, as a plane full of passengers looked on, several filming the action with their phones.
Merry glared at her. “Only three?” she asked. “I guess you didn’t find the other bombs yet.”
“Where are the other bombs?” Jace asked.
“As if I’d tell you.” She smiled. “It will be so much better if you find that out for yourself.”
Chapter Twenty
“We don’t know where Merry Winger planted those last two bombs, but her past behavior should give us some clues.” Laura addressed the assembled team, consisting of FBI agents, local police and the county’s bomb squad and SWAT. She indicated the list of previous bomb locations. “The first three were detonated at Stroud Pharmaceuticals’ administrative offices. The fourth went off at Merry’s home, deliberately set there by her to divert suspicion.”
“So the most likely location for the fifth and sixth bombs is Stroud Pharmaceuticals,” one of the SWAT members said.
“Except Stroud is shut down right now,” Ramirez said. “There’s no one there to be a target of the bomb.”
“Yes, I think the key lies in considering the target,” Laura said. “The first two bombs at Stroud killed people other than their intended target. We believe Merry set those bombs intending to kill Donna Stroud, who she saw as standing between her and her goal of marrying Parker Stroud. The third bomb, the one that killed Steve Stroud, may have been intended for Donna also.”
“One of the two remaining bombs is probably intended to harm Donna,” Jace said. “She’s unfinished business for Merry.”
“Exactly,” Laura said. “We’ve already contacted Mrs. Stroud and local police have escorted her from her home. We have a team searching there right now.”
“What about Parker Stroud?” Rogers studied the white board, arms folded across his muscular chest. “Even though Merry claimed to be in love with him, she threw him under the bus, coming to you with that bank book and her story about seeing him with the castor plant.”
Ramirez nodded. “Parker is with his mother at a safe location now, but we should have a team search his house, too.”
Laura surveyed the faces of those before her, each tense with the knowledge that lives depended on them making the right guess and finding those bombs. “Any other ideas?”
“We should talk to Leo,” Ramirez said. “Maybe Merry told him something about who she intended to target.”
Laura mentally kicked herself for not thinking of this earlier. “Great idea,” she said. “Let’s do it.”
Leo was still being held in the local jail, so twenty minutes later Laura, Ramirez, Jace and Rogers crowded into an interview room where Leo Elgin waited. Dressed in a baggy orange jumpsuit, his hair in need of a trim, he looked younger than his twenty-three years.
“We’ve arrested Parker Stroud for your mother’s murder,” Jace said. “He’s admitted putting the ricin into the bottles of Stomach Soothers.”
Leo stared at him. “Parker?” He wet his lips. “Why would he do something like that?”
“Apparently, he was embezzling money from Stroud Pharmaceuticals,” Laura said. “Your mother noticed some discrepancies in the accounts and confronted him. He killed her to keep her from going public with the information. We believe the other deaths were to hide what he’d done and divert suspicion away from him.”
Pale and clearly shaken, Leo sho
ok his head. “I thought he was my friend. He was always trying to help me.”
“Maybe he felt guilty,” Rogers said. He sat in the chair across from Leo. “We’ve also arrested Merry Winger. She told us you sold her the bombs that killed Lydia Green, Angela Dupree and Steven Stroud.”
“I sold her the bombs,” he said. “She never told me what she was going to do with them.”
“Weren’t you a little curious?” Rogers asked.
Leo shook his head, emphatic. “I didn’t want to know.”
“So some woman comes up to you, says she wants you to make her six bombs and you’re like, ‘Sure. No problem’?” Rogers tilted his head to one side and squinted at Leo. “If this is a side business of yours, building bombs to order, who else have you sold explosives to?”
“Nobody else, I swear.”
“So Merry was the first person you made bombs for?” Laura stood behind Rogers and addressed Leo.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t think it was strange she wanted you to make a bomb—much less six of them?” Laura asked.
“She promised to find the person who killed my mother!” He buried his head in his shackled hands and the room fell silent. Laura scarcely breathed.
At last, Leo raised his head and looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness. “Look, I know it was wrong, but I was so angry. My mother was dead and she died a horrible death. I wanted the people responsible to pay, and Merry convinced me she wanted to help.”
“But why a bomb?” Rogers asked. “Why not more poison?”
“She said she had heard I was the mad bomber.” He flushed. “I tried to tell her that was just a stupid kid stunt, but she went on and on about it. She...she flattered me. She was really pretty and I was lonely and...” His voice trailed away and he shrugged, his cheeks flushed.
“But how did you know how to build the bombs?” Rogers asked. “Had you done something like this before?”
“No, but I found a lot of information on the internet. And I work with trip alarms all the time, so setting the trigger wasn’t all that different.”
