by Maria Geraci
Will moans. “Not again. Lucy, you’re like a dog with a bone.”
“I know. Sorry, but just hear me out. The feds have been keeping watch since yesterday, but they just now noticed that the camera was disabled. Does that make sense to you? That button was left there sometime today, which means that El Tigre was at The Bistro today.” I sit up straight. “El Tigre was at The Bistro today,” I repeat slowly.
“Okay,” says Will. “He could have come and gone anytime, right? Unless the FBI had agents in the parking lot?”
“Will,” I say, getting excited. “There’s no way El Tigre could have gotten into the parking lot and disabled that camera on his own. Not without inside help.”
“You think one of the FBI agents is crooked?”
“Maybe one of the FBI agents is El Tigre.” The second I say it out loud I shake my head because instinctively I know it’s wrong. “That’s not right. I thought maybe Ken Cameron was dirty and that’s why he was killed. But think about it. Why would El Tigre kill Ken Cameron so early in the game? Why not wait until after he had no more use for him?”
“You mean after he kills this Weasel person?”
“Exactly.”
“El Tigre has killed three people here in Whispering Bay since this whole thing started.” I count them off with my fingers. “Ken Cameron in the city park. Mark Rinaldi at The Bistro. And Eddie O‘Leary at The Harbor House. But the feds have only been concentrating on The Bistro. According to Agent Billings, El Tigre always leaves a clue. It’s like a big gotcha to the feds. Which means there’s probably two clues still left to find. One in the city park and one at The Harbor House.”
“Maybe the feds already found them.”
“I don’t think so. They put all their resources into finding the clue at The Bistro. Their main focus is on keeping Joey alive. Catching El Tigre would have just been an added benefit.” I jump off the couch. “If we leave right now we’ll have time to check out the park before going to my parents for dinner.”
Will makes a face. “Do we have to?”
I make a face back.
He sighs. “Okay. I’m driving.”
Will leads the way through the city park, shining a flashlight on the grass. It’s just after six, but it’s already dark. The park lights provide adequate lighting for safety, but unlike a few nights ago when Paco found Ken Cameron’s body, the nearby soccer field lights are turned off. “Tell me why we’re doing this again?”
“Because it’s a loose end and I hate loose ends.”
Paco trots between Will and me sniffing at the ground and marking the shrubs along the way. When we get to just a few feet away from the sable palm where we found Ken Cameron, Paco stills, like he remembers.
Will shines his flashlight at the base of the tree. “What are we looking for exactly?”
“I don’t know. It could be anything, but it’s something El Tigre took off Ken Cameron’s body after he killed him.”
“Like a trophy?”
“Exactly, except he doesn’t keep it to commemorate his kill, he returns it to the scene of the crime to show the feds how much smarter he is than they are.”
“Sick bastard.”
“I’ll say.”
Will leans over and picks something up off the ground. “Here’s a bottle cap. Probably not what we’re looking for, huh?” He tosses it into a nearby trashcan.
The two of us along with Paco scour the area going a few feet off in each direction, then make our way back to the base of the tree again. We repeat the pattern until we’ve checked out the entire radius. Even with the park lights on it’s still not optimal. This would be so much easier during the daytime.
“Maybe you’re right,” I say, “Maybe the feds did come here and find the clue. After all, there’s no reason they’d share that with me.” I glance at my watch. “We only have about twenty minutes till we’re supposed to be at my parents.”
“You want to give up?” Will asks.
“Let’s give it one more try. If we don’t find anything, then I say we call it a night.”
We start back at the base of the tree and begin to work our way around the area when Paco sits and starts to stare up the sable palm. “Oh God, not another squirrel.”
Will whips around. “Did you say squirrel?”
More than anyone Will knows how I react to the horrible little creatures.
“What are you staring at, boy?” He aims his flashlight at the spot that Paco seems to be concentrating on so hard. “Lucy, I think there’s something sticking out of one of the palm boots.” Will reaches into the palm boot and pulls out what looks like a piece of white string. He turns it over in his hand. It’s a shoelace.
“This is from a running shoe,” he says quietly.
There’s no way a shoelace ends up tucked inside a palm tree unless someone placed it there on purpose.
I try to visualize Ken’s body the way it looked the night Paco and I found him. He was still wearing the same jogging outfit I’d seen him in earlier in the day. “I’d bet you anything Ken Cameron’s body went to the morgue missing a shoelace on one of his sneakers.”
“Should we call the cops?” Will asks.
“After today? They’d probably hang up on me.”
“Travis won’t.”
Maybe. Maybe not. He was pretty mad at me. Or disappointed. I’m not sure which is worse.
“Pretty clever of El Tigre to hide the clue in the actual tree,” Will says.
I shine my flashlight back to the spot where Will pulled out the shoelace. It’s just a bit above my head, so I don’t have to reach up very high. “Maybe he left something else in there too.” I feel around, but there’s nothing. Then I spot a brightly colored thread. I ease it out. It’s about six inches long and pink.
Will examines it. “Do you think this came from Ken Cameron’s clothing?”
“No. He was wearing dark colored jogging pants and a blue hoodie. No pink.”
I rub the thread between my fingers. “Will…this isn’t a fiber or any kind of material.”
“Was is it then?”
“It’s a hair.”
Chapter Twenty
My brain starts doing this weird sorting thing, pushing facts and bits of info all around until everything lines up and makes sense.
Holy wow.
I know who El Tigre is. All this time it was right there in front of me, staring me straight in the face.
Will examines the strand closer. “How did a pink hair get inside a palm boot?”
“It was put there. Alongside the shoestring.”
“By El Tigre?”
“She just couldn’t help herself. Think, Will. Who do you know that has pink hair? Or at least had pink hair the day of the murder.”
Will laughs nervously. “Lucy, you’re not suggesting—”
“Sally Reynolds is El Tigre.”
Will is quiet for a few seconds. Then he begins to pace around the tree. The pacing is something that I normally do while Will watches on, but I suppose the idea that a notorious hitman…er, hitwoman? Let’s go with hit person, has been under his nose this whole time is a lot to take in.
“I can’t believe I’m going to encourage this but tell me your reasoning here.”
“Number one, Sally conveniently came to town just a couple of weeks before Joey and the feds showed up. Where did she come from?”
Will thinks on this a second. “Miami? Yeah, she worked at one of the Dade County library branches.”
“I bet her references were excellent.”
“They were the best I’ve ever seen.”
“I also bet they’re not real.”
“She got to town before the whole FBI thing happened. Explain that one.”
“The feds didn’t just hop on a plane and take Joey somewhere random. They had that safe house in place for weeks before they pulled Joey out of the mob. I already told you, El Tigre has to be working with one of the FBI agents. Maybe it’s even Billings herself.”
&nb
sp; “Okay, but that doesn’t mean Sally is El Tigre.”
“She’s familiar with all the body dump sites—The Bistro, the city park, and I imagine she’s been to The Harbor House too.”
“So has everyone else in Whispering Bay.”
“She was at The Bistro today and… Will, she lied to me. I found her wandering near the panty. She pretended she was lost like she didn’t know where the bathroom was, but that’s not true. The hallway near the pantry leads to a back door to the parking lot. It was her opportunity to leave the button out by the dumpster.”
“Maybe she just forgot where the bathroom was.” Will frowns. “Except…yeah, I admit, that doesn’t sound like Sally.”
“She lied to you too.”
“When?”
“When she told you that she’s the only family her father has left. That’s not true. She has a brother.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she told me.”
“Maybe she was lying when she told you that.”
“No, no she wasn’t. I know one hundred percent she didn’t lie about that. Her brother suffers from sciurophobia, just like me… and, oh my God. She knows where the safe house is! She was on her way there to kill Joey last night but she ran into me. Will, we have to warn Joey.”
“Lucy,” he says gravely, “are you sure about this?”
“Will, you have to trust me. I know I’m right this time.”
“Do you have the FBI’s number?”
“Even if I did have it, I’m not sure who to trust.”
“Let’s call Travis.”
“You call him. He won’t believe me, not after the mess I made today, but he might believe you.”
Will pulls out his cell phone and punches in the number. After a few seconds, his face falls. “It went to voice mail.” He hesitates. “Should I leave a message?”
I nod. “Tell him we know who El Tigre is, and we’re on our way to the safe house.”
I get Will to park his car a block away from the safe house. “In case someone’s looking out the window,” I explain. “That way we have the element of surprise on our side.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“You left Travis the message. He’s probably already on his way here with reinforcements.”
“Let’s hope so.” Will looks both ways down the street. There’s not much activity, but all the houses are lit up, and most either have the front door or porch light on. “You’re sure there’s just one entrance into the neighborhood?”
“Yep. I checked it out when I was here last night. There’s a service road entrance for big truck deliveries, but there’s a gate that’s locked unless it’s being used.”
We quietly walk along the sides of the houses until we get to the safe house. The front door light is on, but all the blinds are drawn and just like before, there’s no car parked in the driveway. The garage door is closed. Luckily there’s no fence, so we continue to creep along to the backyard until we find some hibiscus bushes to hide behind.
“You think Joey and the feds are still in there?” Will asks, careful to keep his voice low.
“Not sure. They might have been able to get out, but…” I shrug. “The only way to know for certain is to try to get a peek inside.”
“Absolutely no,” Will says. “We stay right here till Travis and the cops come.”
“I agree.” I might be rash, but I’m not stupid.
Paco makes a whining sound. “We should have left him in the car,” he says tightly. “What if he starts barking?”
I take Paco’s little face into my hands and stare into his eyes. I read somewhere that dogs and humans bond through eye contact. The way he’s looking at me is the same way I’m looking at him. I’ve only had him a few weeks, but I love him already, and I know he loves me. He’s saved my life. And even though Will scoffed at the idea of Paco being a ghost whisperer, it’s only because he’s never seen him in action.
“You have to be quiet, okay?” I say to him. “No barking. No matter what you see. Got it?”
Paco wags his tail, which I take as an enthusiastic yes.
Nothing happens for a few minutes. The sound of a door slamming makes us both jump.
“Where did that come from?” I ask.
“Inside the house, I think. We need to call the cops again. If Travis doesn’t answer, then I’m calling Zeke Grant directly.” Will pulls out his cell phone and stares at the screen in disbelief. “Crap. There’s no service here. We must be in a dead zone. Try yours.”
“I left my phone in your car.”
He glances around. “I’m going to sneak around to the front of the house and see if I can get cell service. You and Paco stay here.”
Before he can take off, I grab his hand. “Will, be careful.”
He gives me a reassuring smile. “I’ll get the cops here, Lucy. No worries.” He vanishes into the darkness.
Paco licks my neck to reassure me. The whole thing is unnerving. What’s going on inside the house?
A thudding sound splits through the silence. I stand up from my crouching position and inch toward a window. I can’t see inside because of the closed blinds but I can see the lights are on. There’s a tiny sliver of sight that isn’t obscured by the blinds. There’s a refrigerator, I think, so I must be right outside the kitchen.
I squint, trying to make out more of the scene. There’s a foot. Only the person isn’t standing. The position indicates that they’re lying down….which doesn’t look good.
Paco starts to whimper.
Another thud.
Chills run down my spine. I’m pretty sure I just heard something big hit the floor. Like a body.
Paco’s whimpering becomes louder.
I wrap my arm around his neck to soothe him, but it doesn’t work. He turns back to look at me. His eyes have a wild look in them.
Oh no.
I know this look.
Before I can restrain him, he lunges for the door. He’s not barking, but he’s whimpering so loudly that he might as well be. “Paco!” I hiss, “Get back here right now.”
I run to grab him when the door opens.
Sally stands in the doorway. She’s wearing a black jogging suit and her green hair is tucked beneath a baseball cap. She’s also got a gun pointed straight at my head.
Her eyes widen in recognition. “Lucy, I have to say, I’m surprised to find you here.”
I try to keep my voice from trembling. “Sally! Do you live here? So sorry to interrupt! We’ll just be on our way—”
“Be quiet. You know good and well that I don’t live here.” She tilts her head. “Inside. Now.”
“Thanks, but Paco and I were going for a walk. We’ll just be running along—”
“I’m not going to ask again, Lucy. Inside. And your little dog too.”
Oh no. She’s not going to get Paco. No way.
I snatch him up and toss him as far away from me as possible. He lands on his feet. “Run, Paco! Run, boy!” He hesitates for just a second, then he takes off running into the night.
I heave a sigh of relief.
“Off to chase more squirrels, no doubt. Worthless dog,” she mutters. Then she reaches out with her free hand and pushes me inside the kitchen. She slams the door behind us.
The first thing I notice is a couple of my uneaten pumpkin spice muffins on the counter. Uh-oh. Usually those things don’t last but a few minutes. I hope I didn’t overdo the cinnamon.
The next thing I notice is Agent Parks and Agent Rollins lying on the floor, side by side. Dead. With a bullet hole between their eyes.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sally follows my horrified gaze. “That’s right. I’m not quite the mild-mannered librarian I pretend to be.”
“You’re El Tigre.”
“You know about that?” She doesn’t bother to hide her surprise. “What gave me away? Wait. Don’t tell me. You didn’t buy my lost little lamb routine at The Bistro today? Still,” she muses, �
��that’s hardly enough to put two and two together.”
“You lied to Will about going to Wyoming to take care of your father. You told him you didn’t have any other family. What happened to your brother? The one with the sciurophobia?”
“Sciurophobia,” she scoffs. “There’s no such thing. And I didn’t lie to Will. I lied to you. If I did have a brother, he wouldn’t have something as pathetic as a fear of squirrels.”
“You didn’t lie to me about your brother. That whole story about him being in counseling? You were telling the truth.”
“Are you sure about that, Lucy?”
The cocky way she looks at me makes me question myself. But only for an instant. I’ve never been so grateful for my gift before.
“As sure as I’m standing here.”
The two of us play a game of chicken staring each other down. After a few long seconds, she grudgingly says, “Okay, so I didn’t lie to you about that. I have a brother. So what? Is that it? That’s how you figured out I was El Tigre?”
“Not quite. It was a bunch of other little things as well. But what put it all together was the clue you left in the sable palm. The one tucked in along with Ken Cameron’s shoestring.”
“No.” Her voice hitches with excitement. “You actually found it?”
“Yep. A lock of pink hair. You shouldn’t have done that. If the FBI had found it instead of me, they’d be running that through the DNA database right now, and you’d be toast.”
“It’s the first time I’ve left anything of value behind. I couldn’t help myself. Do you know how many kills I’ve returned to? To leave some worthless trinket? Only to let the feds know that I wasn’t just there once, but twice? That I’d outsmarted then once again? We all want to be seen, Lucy, even when we’re trying to hide.” She smiles and it gives me chills. To think, I actually wanted to start a book club with her!
“I’m glad you were the one to find it and not the FBI. Not that my DNA is in their database, but if they analyzed it then they would have found out I was a woman, and well… thank you, Lucy. You saved me from myself. Next time El Tigre,” she says with mocking emphasis, “will have to control her urges a little better.”