Dangerous Tidings

by Dana Mentink

He was weak and freezing cold, but hearing the strength returning to his voice relieved the massive weight from Donna’s shoulders.

  A look of surprise crossed the sailor’s face as he listened to his radio. “Just got a message from an Officer Ridley. He’s reporting that your man Darius Fields has been apprehended and is on his way to jail.”

  Brent heaved out a breath. “Then that makes this whole midnight swim worth it.”

  “What about Fran?” Donna asked through chattering teeth.

  “They’ll question her but unless they can prove she knew about the murder, there’s not a whole lot they can do,” Marco said.

  Donna chafed Brent’s frigid hands as they motored to the dock. She could see the beautiful San Diego skyline. Some of the skyscrapers were outlined in red-and-green Christmas lights. She saw their sparkle reflected in Brent’s eyes, but the light did not seem to penetrate.

  Heavenly Father, she wanted to say aloud, to thank Him for delivering them from the ocean, but the anguish on Brent’s face took her breath away. They were alive, but now he had to come to grips once and for all with the fact that Darius had indeed murdered his sister. She settled on a silent prayer of thanksgiving and a plea that God would ease the pain that coursed through him.

  The ambulance was waiting as promised. Brent insisted on climbing in under his own power. Marco refused to go at all, but he helped Donna get in.

  Brent reached out a hand and shook Marco’s solemnly. “Thanks, man.”

  Marco nodded.

  “You handle yourself well in rough seas. What did you say you did for the navy?”

  This time, Marco allowed a small grin. “I didn’t. Meet you at the hospital,” he said before the doors closed.

  Brent let the medics strap a blood pressure cuff on and she did the same.

  They rode in silence until Brent finally spoke. “I always thought I was the rescuer, the guy who pulled others out of the mess, and today two people had to pull me out.”

  “I didn’t pull you out. If Marco hadn’t arrived just then, I don’t think we would have made it.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Still, you came in after me, and I got to see a hero through the victim’s eyes.”

  She flushed. “I’m not a hero.”

  He pressed his lips to her hand. “Donna, I’ve seen plenty of people act bravely in my time in the coast guard, but I’ve never seen anyone do what you did for me tonight.”

  She thought she detected a flush of pink on his pale cheeks. “Does it...make you feel uncomfortable?”

  “A little bit,” he admitted, “but I’ll get over it. I guess I was about due for some humbling. I just wish I could have been there, or anyone could have been there, to help Pauline when she needed it.”

  Donna squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too, because I know I’m never going to get over it.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I did not save my sister.”

  She pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders, the only way she could think of to comfort him now.

  * * *

  It was nearing two o’clock in the morning when the doctors finished their poking and prodding. Donna gratefully slipped into the dry clothes her sisters had brought and tiptoed to Sarah’s hospital room, summoned by her younger sister. Her mother was there, and Candace and Angela, and they wasted no time wrapping her in a tight embrace.

  “Not cool,” Candace said. “You promised to stay safe.”

  Donna was about to answer when Brent limped into her room, wearing clothes that Marco had driven over to get for him.

  “I just wanted to say goodbye,” he said. His face was bruised; a five-o’clock shadow darkened his chin.

  “You shouldn’t be up and about,” Donna said. “The doctors want you to stay.”

  He accepted gentle hugs from Candace, Angela and JeanBeth. “I hate hospitals.”

  “You and me both,” Sarah muttered.

  JeanBeth hugged him and so did the sisters, mumbling sympathies and condolences. Brent shifted uncomfortably under the attention.

  “Anyway, I figured I’d pop in on my way out.”

  “I can’t stay too long, either,” Angela said. “I’ve got Radar in the car. I picked him up from Open Vistas like you asked me to earlier, but he doesn’t seem to like my cat. Harvey didn’t want to give him back, but the Open Vista’s manager was happy to see him go. I think he chewed up a TV remote.”

  “I still haven’t figured out what to do with Radar,” Brent said sadly.

  “I’ll take him,” Donna said. “He’s happy at my place.”

  “And here’s the address for Fran’s rental property.” Angela handed her a piece of paper.

  Donna stared at it, thinking about Fran’s encounter with Darius.

  “Are you listening to me?” Angela prodded.

  “Yes. I was just thinking about something Fran said to Darius. I thought she was his victim all along, but she knew he’d killed Dad and she covered for him. I’m sure of it, even if the police can’t prove that.”

  Candace shook her head. “How could she do that? Did she love him that much that she’d cover up murder?”

  “And that suitcase,” Donna mused. “I can’t get it out of my mind. Why would Kinsey bother stealing a suitcase with Pauline’s things? He only wanted the money.”

  Brent stood up straight, wincing as the action pulled on his ribs. “Police interviewed her but didn’t make an arrest. I’m going to check out her rental place right now. I’m too banged up to manage my motorcycle. Can I borrow your car one more time, Donna?”

  “Only if I’m in it.”

  Brent and Marco shook their heads in unison.

  “Oh, no,” Marco said. “Our ocean adventure was plenty for one day.”

  “This trip is on dry ground.”

  “You can find trouble anywhere, dry ground or not,” Marco said firmly.

  “Look,” she said. “If we’re going to run Dad’s investigation firm, we have to be thorough and not afraid to take risks...like Dad was.”

  “Are we? Running Dad’s firm, I mean?” Candace folded her arms across her chest. “Dad’s murder is solved. Are we really going to keep the investigation business going considering we’re not private eyes in any way, shape or form?”

  Donna sucked in a breath. “I guess that depends on you three.”

  “Oh, I’m in,” Sarah said from the bed. “I’m done being the victim. I’m ready to take down bad guys and serve up some justice for once.”

  Angela laughed. “Well, I can see I’m going to need to stick around and keep the peace.” Her voice faltered. “Since I’ll be stateside for a while.”

  “I guess I can file things at least and answer phones.” Candace sighed. “Marco, can you stand to have four Gallagher women mucking up the works?”

  “Five,” their mother said, clearing her throat. “Your father would be proud of you girls. I’m certain of that.”

  Marco threw up his hands. “This is insane.”

  “That’s his way of saying, ‘What a stupendous idea,’” Candace said with a chuckle.

  “So how do we proceed?” Angela asked.

  “Brent and I are going to check out Fran’s rental place. It’s probably nothing, but maybe we can dig up something that might help the cops prove she knew about Pauline’s murder.” She held up a hand. “No more breaking and entering, right, Brent?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Marco started to speak, but Donna interrupted.

  “And Marco will follow along like our big scary shadow, right?”

  “I’m missing out on everything,” Sarah complained.

  “I’ll stay here with you.” Angela said. “They’ve promised to release you today and there’s some talk of awarding you the ‘wor
st-behaved patient’ award.”

  “Let me see if I can push things along downstairs,” JeanBeth said. “I know a nurse on the night shift.”

  Donna and Brent headed to the car and retrieved Radar from Angela’s vehicle. The dog greeted them with a thorough licking. Donna slid into the passenger’s seat and tossed Brent the keys.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’re volunteering to let me drive?”

  “Sure.”

  He frowned. “You don’t need to treat me with kid gloves. I know my sister is gone, Donna. Nothing we learn about Fran will bring her back.” He started the engine. “But maybe it will help us serve up a little justice. Besides, like you said, we’re in it until the case is closed.”

  Closed and she and Brent returned to their own lives.

  “Right,” she said brightly. “Let’s get it over with, then.”

  She thought he hesitated for a moment before he started the car, but she kept her eyes trained out the front window, careful not to look at the face of the man she would have to learn how to lose.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Brent parked across the street from Fran’s house in Imperial Beach. It was nearly dawn. The structure was not in pristine condition, an older ranch-style home in need of more white paint, with black shutters framing the windows. The lawn was dead, nothing more than a scalp of dry grass. Curtains shielded the windows. Fran’s car was parked in the driveway. Yellowed newspapers, never read, dotted the porch.

  Marco called. “Going to pull around the back, check things out. What are we hoping to find here, Coastie?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe nothing.”

  “Copy that.” Marco clicked off and pulled around the block, which led to an alley.

  “Doesn’t look like she’s spent much time on the place,” Donna said. “She had plans to sell in the future and move to Mexico with Darius.”

  “Guess his plans were different than hers.”

  Brent got out. “I’m going to go talk to her.”

  “What will you say?”

  “I want to know how well she knew my sister. Maybe...maybe there’s something she will let slip that might indicate she knew what Darius did to her. Or where her body is. At this point, I just need to finish it. Good or bad. I have to know.”

  “Brent...”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry. I know this is probably the last dead end. I’m under control. I promise.”

  “I’m coming with you.” Donna got out and rolled the window down for Radar. “Stay here, boy. Be back soon.”

  Fran answered on the second knock. A packed suitcase stood by the door in the dim interior. “What do you want?” she said, eyebrows drawn.

  “To ask you a few questions,” Brent said.

  “Cops already did that. I’m sick of questions.”

  Radar shoved his head out the car window and barked.

  “Are you leaving?” Donna said, pointing to the bag.

  “That’s none of your business, is it? Darius is in jail. You got what you wanted. Now go away.”

  “I know how you feel, but you’re better off without him,” Donna said. “I speak from experience.”

  Brent watched Fran’s face light up with anger. “I’m so sick of people telling me that. My parents, my sister—everyone has always hated Darius.”

  He was incredulous. “The man’s a killer, Fran. Wake up. Sometimes when everyone who loves you is telling you the same thing, it’s because they’re right.”

  Fran gripped the door. “Go away.”

  Radar’s barking grew louder.

  “Were you covering up my sister’s murder, too?” Brent said. “Along with Bruce Gallagher’s?”

  Her expression wavered. “I’m sorry for what happened to Bruce. I didn’t know for sure Darius did it. I only suspected. I would have stopped him if I had known what he was planning.”

  Brent raised a skeptical eyebrow.

  “And I don’t know anything about your sister other than she probably got what was coming to her.” Her tone hardened. “Teasing Darius, making nice to him so he got his head turned.”

  “That’s not the kind of person my sister is.”

  “Of course not. She’s a good girl, a smart girl, right?”

  “You know what?” Brent said slowly. “You sound just like Darius.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she started to close the door. With an earsplitting bark, Radar leaped through the open car window and bolted up the walk. Fran had not quite gotten the door fully closed when Radar slammed through, shoving Fran back. The dog’s barks were deafening.

  “Radar, come here,” Brent shouted.

  The dog beelined to a closed door, barking and clawing at the wood.

  “Get him out of here,” Fran shouted, “or I’ll kill him.”

  Brent pushed past her.

  “You can’t come in here. You have no right,” she yelled.

  Ignoring her, Brent tried the door handle. It was locked, but the lock was cheap. Radar continued to claw and whine at the door.

  “Open it,” Brent said.

  “Get out,” Fran rasped. “You can’t come into my house and tell me what to do.”

  Brent heard a muffled cry from the other side of the door. He pounded a fist on the wood. “Open it right now or I’m breaking it down.”

  Fran didn’t move, so Brent launched a kick that splintered the wood. It took two more until he was through. The dog squeezed in first, barking and whining. Brent broke away the splintered wood and crammed himself into the gap. He slammed on the light switch and jogged down the steps, heart in his throat, Donna right behind him.

  The breath was sucked from his lungs when he reached the landing.

  “Have it your way, then,” Fran said, taking a gun from her pocket. “Now you can die with your sister.”

  * * *

  Donna’s mind reeled. The young woman with a duct-taped mouth, chained to a support beam in the basement, could only be Pauline Mitchell. Brent dropped to his knees.

  “Pauline,” he rasped.

  “Oh, yes, it’s sweet Pauline,” Fran said.

  “I thought...” Donna stammered.

  “That Darius killed her?” Fran snorted. “So did he. He left her there, the fool, but who was following along behind? Poor little Frannie. I saw Jeff try to help her. He took her scarf, poor sap. After he left, Pauline came to, and I knew she would go straight to the cops and Darius would go to jail. So who covered up for him? Huh? Who? Who called Open Vistas and left a fake message? Me, and Darius didn’t even know it. All this time he’s been weeping for her. I was the one who tried to steal her suitcase and plant the note in the house and make it look like she’d gone on a trip. All for Darius. All for him.” Bright angry tears shone on Fran’s lashes.

  Radar whined, licking pitifully at Pauline’s cheeks. The woman’s eyes were round with fear as she yanked against the chain.

  Brent reached to pull the tape from his sister’s mouth, but Fran jerked the gun. “Don’t do that. I can’t stand to hear her yapping. I would have killed her weeks ago but it’s harder to hide a body than you’d think. I’ll just have to dump her on the beach somewhere, or leave her here in the basement until I get away.”

  “You can’t kill us all,” Brent said, straightening, moving closer. He was trying to get himself between Fran’s gun and the two women. Donna’s heart thwacked against her ribs. She scanned frantically for something to use to help.

  “So you’re going to let Darius ruin the rest of your life, huh?” Donna said.

  Fran flinched. “I gave him everything. I’ve stood by him since he was sixteen even though it cost me my family. We were going to get married. Have children.”

  “No, you weren’t,” Donna said.

  “Keep your m
outh shut,” Fran hissed, her eyes burning. Understanding dawned on Brent’s face. He eased closer to Fran as her attention was riveted on Donna.

  Fran rubbed a sleeve across her nose. “You don’t know anything about me and Darius.”

  “Oh, yes, I do,” Donna said. “Darius used you, strung you along. ‘We’ll get married someday. We’ll have kids someday,’ yet he was in love with Pauline and I’m sure she wasn’t the first. It was all just lies he told you.”

  “It was an infatuation with Pauline and the others. What we had was love.” Fran gulped.

  “Love doesn’t include murder. Love doesn’t involve running away from your partner to Mexico. Do you really think he was going to send for you?”

  “Stop talking,” Fran said, her hand shaking on the gun. “I know him. I love him. He’s—”

  Brent dived before she finished the sentence, crashing into her legs, toppling her over. The gun fired before he knocked it from her hand, and it skidded across the cement floor. Donna screamed as the bullet struck the wooden shelves behind her. She ran toward Pauline to shield her. Radar went wild with barking, running to Brent and entangling Brent’s legs in the process. He stumbled and Fran got to her feet and ran for the steps.

  Brent finally succeeded in freeing himself from the dog and lurched toward the steps, breathing hard.

  Marco appeared at the head of the stairs, holding Fran securely by the wrist. “Coastie?”

  “All okay here,” Brent panted, scrambling to his sister and enfolding her in a crushing embrace.

  Marco nodded. Pauline was crying now, tears flowing down her face as Donna watched Brent gently peel the tape away from her mouth.

  “Looks like the case is finally closed,” Marco said with a smile.

  “Yes, sir,” Brent said, his eyes never leaving his sister’s face as he stroked her hair.

  Marco grinned. “Not bad for a puddle jumper.”

  Brent clutched his sister, holding her in his arms, chains and all. He looked over her shoulder and reached for Donna’s hand. He squeezed her fingers and in the gesture was a world of emotion.

  Gratitude, joy, relief and, she imagined, a goodbye.

  Case closed, just as Marco had said.