by Renee George
“You should wait outside, too, Nora.”
“That’s absolutely fine.” I didn’t want to be there, anyhow. It brought my awful morning rushing back to me, so Ezra didn’t have to ask me twice to go.
I stood with Jenny and her gal pals, just a few feet away from the husbands.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Jenny said. Her tone was sharp and choppy. “What is going on? It doesn’t feel real.” Tears flooded her eyes. “I keep expecting my baby to come home and complain about her job or tell me about some cute shirt she bought. And now she’s gone. And this…” She gestured to the guesthouse.
I examined the area for surveillance. I still couldn’t believe someone managed to get onto this estate and break in without notice. “Do you have video cameras or alarms?”
Jenny nodded. “Yes to both.”
“Wouldn’t they have been triggered?”
Reagan overheard my question and stepped over to join us. “There’s only one way anyone could have gotten up here without us being alerted. They had to have come from the dock and taken the path through the woods.”
“You don’t have a camera set up back there?”
He scowled, his round face red with fury. “It’s my own fault,” he said. “Fiona was always unhooking and deactivating the back cameras and alarms. After I called the police, I checked my security monitors. The guesthouse and dock cameras are off. Fiona must have disconnected them the night she—” He choked on a ragged sob, spittle gathering on his lower lip as the sound of his grief became almost an animal-like wail.
“Oh, Reagan.” Jenny threw her arms around her husband. He pressed his face against his wife’s shoulders, his crying akin to a seal’s bark.
“I’m so sorry,” I said as I backed away, their sorrow threatening to swallow me. “So, so sorry.” God, I needed air. Lots and lots of it.
Everyone was so focused on the McKays, they didn’t notice me walk off. I went around the guesthouse looking for the camera Reagan had been talking about. Sure enough, there was a video camera mounted on the siding. I saw the path to the dock and began the walk down.
When I got to the dock, I saw a boat moored to a rock on the shore a few yards away. I thought it strange that someone wouldn’t have tied it to the dock. I went over and studied it. It was an aluminum Jon boat, about twelve feet long, with a small motor off the back. I smiled as I thought of my dad taking me out on the lake to fish in a similar boat. I wondered if Reagan had ever taken Fiona fishing.
I pressed a hand to my chest and closed my eyes as the gash inside me opened wide at his grief, and I fought hard not to cry. This wasn’t my loss, I reminded myself. Yet, I felt it to my soul.
There was a small tarp in the boat. Carefully, I dipped down, trying to use my bad knees so I didn’t further hurt my bad back, and I lifted it up.
My mouth went dry, my lips thinning with shock as I retrieved a red high heel. The kind someone might wear if they were dressed in a beautiful red cocktail dress.
I looked around quickly to make sure I was alone then pulled the tarp back more.
I saw a glint of gold in one of the crevices. I leaned in, ignoring the ache in my back, and dug into the spot, the golden item slipping from my fingers with every attempt. I used my fingernails to dig and was able to finally snag the object. I fished it up—both triumphant and horrified to discover the ruby and diamond ring.
The pungent musk of murky lake water made me dizzy.
A man gently lays a woman into the Jon boat.
“It’ll be quick, Fiona,” he says. “I told you he wouldn’t let you get away with it. The drugs I put in your soda will make it real nice, though.”
She moans, but he continues to untie the ropes and pushes the boat away from shore. She’s not dead. Not yet. But she’s barely moving. I watch her hands, folded together as she slowly works the ring off her finger and drops it into the boat without the man noticing. After he climbs inside, he covers her with a tarp, starts the small motor, and trolls away.
I’d watched for several seconds until they disappeared, helpless to stop it.
“He drugged her and killed her,” I said. I squeezed the ring into my palm. “That poor, poor girl.”
“You love snooping around, don’t you?” The sinister voice came from a man who walked out of the tree line.
I snapped up, the motion wrenching my back. I stumbled and fell on my butt. I narrowed my gaze on the man, his gray sideburns prominent. Damn it, it was my not so friendly neighborhood stalker, Sideburns Guy. He wore gloves and was holding a gun.
Son-of-a-bitch. It was my gun.
Chapter 19
“Who are you, and why in the hell are you following me?” I asked, closing my fist around the ring. As I climbed to my feet, I managed to tuck the ring into my pants pocket.
The gun in Sideburns Guy’s hand never wavered. I had no doubt he knew how to use it. My heart pumped in my chest so loudly, I was sure he could hear it. What would happen if I screamed? Would anyone hear me before I got shot?
“Where’s the USB drive?” he asked in a deadly calm tone that made me shiver.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” He took two long strides forward. He kept the gun aimed at my center mass and used his free hand to make a gimme motion. “Toss me your purse.”
I slid the purse off my shoulder and threw it at his feet. “Take it and go.”
Sideburns chuckled. “This isn’t a mugging, Nora. This is a fact-finding mission, and I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you. The USB drive wasn’t at Fiona’s house, or yours. That means you’ve been carrying it with you.”
“I’m at a slight disadvantage seeing as how you know my name and I don’t know yours,” I said, hoping to buy some time.
“Let’s leave it that way,” he replied with a slight smile.
Fine. I’d just keep him talking and pray Ezra noticed I was missing. “If you destroyed my house looking for something I don’t have, then you wasted a lot of energy on nothing.”
“I saw the pharmacy security video, Nora.” He picked up my purse and dumped it out, while keeping his gaze and the gun trained on me. All the contents clattered to the rocky beach, and once again, I felt violated by this man. He’d shattered my feeling of safety and security when he’d wrecked my home. And he was finishing the job by toeing through personal items, smashing my things with the heel of his shoe. “Fiona dropped the drive into your purse at Craymore’s. Are you going to keep lying to me?”
Yes, I thought sourly. “You know there’s a whole bunch of cops coming. If you shoot me, they’ll be down here in less than minute. You’ll never get away.”
“I will, actually,” he said. “Don’t you know? I’m one of the good guys.” He kicked my empty purse. “It’s not here. Tell me what you did with the USB drive, Nora.”
The way he kept saying my name, like we were pals, gave me the willies. “You’re a cop.”
He smiled. “It’ll be a real shame when I find your body. Shot with your own gun.”
I pressed my trembling lips together, trying to stave off the terror instilled by his threat. Gawd. I didn’t recognize him as a cop for Garden Cove PD, but I didn’t know everyone who worked there. Did Garden Cove have another officer on the take? Cripes, Shawn needed to give his department a thorough cleaning to get rid of all the dirty cops. “People will notice I’m gone soon.”
Sideburns pulled a phone from his back pocket. While holding it with his non-gun hand, he expertly typed a message. His phone buzzed a few seconds later. He smiled at me. “No one’s looking for you, Nora.”
Who had he texted? It had to be someone at the house, right? It was the only way he could know I wasn’t missed. And someone had noticed I was gone—maybe even called Sideburns to let him know I was on my own.
Did the McKays keep a staff on hand? Probably. The house was too big for Jenny to keep up on her own. Or maybe it was one of the friends. Was he working for the man
who’d gotten Fiona pregnant?
“What is it with dirty cops?” I asked. “Why put on a badge at all?”
“Lots of reasons.” He shook his head. “Fiona had a sweet deal after her arrest. All she had to do was mind her own business. But she couldn’t do that.”
“She was clean,” I said. “No thanks to you.” He wore cheap rubber waders on his feet. “Where are your tacky red and black boots now?”
He squinted at me. His confusion evident. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
So not Boots Guy. Another thought occurred to me. He’d mentioned her arrest. According to Shawn, there had only been two people who knew about Fiona’s arrest, but only one of them had seen her for monthly check-ins and a drug screens. Son-of-a—
This had to be the detective from Rasfield who had arrested Fiona. “Detective Frank Lopez,” I bluffed. “Nice to meet you.”
His eyes widened. Then he waved me off with his free hand. “You’re never going to get the chance to tell anyone.”
“How did you even know I’d be down here?” Was he somehow following me? Maybe tracking my phone? Ugh.
“It’s not all about you, Nora. I was here to collect a payment left for me down here at the dock. You showing up is just a happy accident.”
His phone buzzed again. He squinted down at it. “Time’s up,” he said. “Cops are here, and we have to go.” He used the gun to point at the boat. “Get in.”
Fear is a powerful motivator, but I wasn’t some dumb innocent. I remembered my father’s words of wisdom. Baby, if you are being threatened, do what you have to do to survive the moment, but never, ever let a man take you somewhere else. No matter what he promises, no matter how much he threatens or cajoles. It’s the surest way to certain death.
I didn’t need the reminder, though. I knew if I got into the boat with Sideburns, I’d end up like Fiona. I couldn’t let that happen. If this asshole was going to take me out, he’d have to do it here and now and risk getting caught. But I was betting someone like him, someone motivated by money and little else, wouldn’t take the chance.
My pulse drummed in my ears as I worked up the courage to make my stand. I planted my feet as solidly as I could on the rocky ground. “You’re nuts if you think I’m getting in there with you,” I said. “You want to drown me like you did that poor girl, well tough shit. Shoot me here and now. But don’t forget, there are a handful of police officers just over that hill. I wonder how fast they can run down here? It only took me a minute or so to walk it. And I’m real slow.”
I glanced up the hill. I could see the roof of the guesthouse, but not a person in sight. Where was my hot detective when I needed him?
“You’re so brave, Nora,” he said, completely unimpressed with my fake bravado. “Unfortunately, that and a buck fifty will get you a soda. I’ll beat you to death with the butt of your own gun. No muss, no fuss.” He took a step closer. “How many strikes will it take, do you think?”
He lunged at me.
I screamed my flippin’ head off as I tried to side-step him, tripped on a rock and went down like a fifty-one-year-old lead balloon. Lopez was not ready for middle-aged klutziness, and he tripped over my foot and rolled down the embankment. I spun to get on my hands and feet before he could get up.
“I’m glad I stocked up on shampoo, Nora, because you won’t be around to make any more.” Lopez was already on his feet, aiming my 9mm at me. “This is the end for you.”
“Help!” I bellowed while crawling away.
A gunshot exploded.
I dropped flat to the ground, my face splatting into a cake of mud. I waited for the pain to blossom the way it did the last time.
And I waited.
There was nothing. No pain at all.
“Nora!” Ezra rushed out of the woods on the left side of the path. He had his shirt untucked and a pistol in his hand. “Stay down,” he ordered. “Stay down until I clear him.”
I pushed myself over and looked down the hill where Sideburns had fixed me in his sights. He was on the ground, and his shirt was wet with blood.
Ezra kicked my gun away from Lopez, and he held his own weapon on the downed man. Reese came out of the woods from the other side, brandishing her sidearm as she jogged down to Ezra.
“Who is he?” Reese asked. “He looks familiar but…”
I sat up. “Frank Lopez. He’s a detective from Rasfield.”
Ezra cast me a meaningful look. “I’ll let Rafferty know, so he can give the chief over there a courtesy call.”
“You can’t be serious?” Reese assessed the scene, put her pistol in its holster and took out her cuffs as she walked over to the downed man. “Another dirty cop?”
Ezra’s worried gaze fell on me. “You won’t need the handcuffs,” he said to Reese. “But we will need to call a coroner. He’s dead.”
Jeanna Treece had arrived with her partner, Levi Walters. “Are you okay, Ms. Black? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
I needed a hospital, but the kind for your head, not your body, because I was pretty sure I was having a nervous breakdown. “He killed Fiona,” I said. “He slipped her the drugs and took her out in that boat. I found her shoe in there.”
Ezra let Reese guard the dead dirty cop—it wasn’t like he was going anywhere—and my hero knelt down next to me.
“Nora, my love.” He picked leaves and twigs from my hair then used the untucked part of his shirt to wipe the dirt from my face. “You have to stop wandering off alone.”
“It’s not like I go looking for trouble,” I said. “And trouble seems to be cops on the take. At least it wasn’t Garden Cove this time.”
“Don’t worry about that now, sweetheart.” Ezra caressed my cheek. “I want you to get checked over. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to go to the ER?”
“I’m fine,” I said. I didn’t relish the idea of meeting with Dr. Allen’s disapproving bedside manner anytime soon. “I actually don’t feel all that bad.”
“You’re probably in shock.”
“Could be,” I agreed. I gestured down to where Lopez lie dead. “He was looking for the drive. He was working for whoever Fiona was blackmailing.” I glanced around me and whispered, “He was texting with someone at the house. Check his phone.”
“Be right back.” He got up and asked Jeanna Treece for gloves. After he put them on, he picked up the cellphone, then came back to me. “He was texting a number. No name, though. And you’re right. It looks like whoever it was, they were feeding him info.” He gestured to Jeanna. “You and Levi head up to the house and confiscate every cellphone on the premises. If anyone tries to argue, arrest them. I’ll take the heat.”
“Yes, sir,” Jeanna said, then she and her partner took off up the hill.
Ezra squinted at the phone. “This is not good.”
“Let me see.” I had to know if whoever the boss was, he’d ordered my death.
Ezra nodded. He held the phone up to my face.
All I saw was fuzzy, blurry, unreadable texts.
“Well?” Ezra asked.
“Well, I can’t see jack-crap without my glasses,” I muttered. Luckily, I’d put them in a sturdy glasses case and Lopez hadn’t taken his boot to them. An inappropriate burble of laughter rose from that scared place inside me. “He was going to kill me, Ezra.”
My guy nodded, and without any sugarcoating, he said, “Yes, he was.”
“But you shot the shit out of him first.”
The corner of Ezra’s lip curled up in a half smile. “Yes, I did.”
“I think I’d like to keep you,” I told him. “You’re extremely handy in a life or death situation and have other…uhm…attributes I’m fond of as well.”
“Like my eggplant emoji?” he inquired.
I giggled at the reference. “Just like.” The adrenaline waned and fatigue set in. “I’m going to need some clothes from my house. I’ll stay with Gilly until my brain tells me it’s safe to go home.”
“Yo
u need to make a statement, but I’d like, when this is all said and done, for you to come home with me. I’ll take you over to your place to grab any clothes and stuff you need. I’m not saying move in,” he said quickly. “I know you like your independence. I just want you to know that you’re safe with me.”
“And Mason.”
“Mason won’t mind.”
I worried the kid might. Still, I nodded.
“Is that a yes?”
“Temporarily,” I answered. “Yes.” Staying with Ezra for a few days would be an interesting test for our relationship.
He helped me to my feet and supported me as we walked up the path. “I’d really like people to stop pulling guns on me,” I said.
“A lofty goal for a gal who courts danger on a regular basis,” he said with a chuckle. He stopped and pulled me into his arms. “When you screamed, it was all I could do to hold it together. Instinct was the only thing that kept me from blundering in and getting us both killed.”
“I was scared, too,” I said. “But he’s dead and we’re alive.” I kissed him. “We’re both alive. Thanks to you.”
When we reached the house, Reagan, Big Don, and Jameson hurried to us.
“Land sakes, Nora,” Big Don said. “You look like you took a turn in a pig wrestling contest.”
“Don’t you know, I took first prize.” Meaning, I was alive, so I won. I eyed all the men suspiciously, trying to figure out which one of them, if any, had sent the texts to Lopez.
Jenny joined us, and I softened my expression. “Detective Frank Lopez killed Fiona. He’s dead now, but…he said he’d had to drug her soda. She wasn’t drinking or getting high. It wasn’t an accident. She was murdered.” He hadn’t exactly confessed, but I’d seen enough in my vision that I would testify that the words had come from the bastard’s own mouth. “Reese was right. You both were.”
Jenny hugged me. “Thank you,” she said with a mother’s fierceness. “Thank you for fighting for my girl.”
Claire Portman put her arm around Jenny’s shoulder. “Nora, I’d like you to be my guest tonight for the fireworks and dinner. My treat. Portman’s on the Lake has the best view of the display. And since my grandson, Mason, is coming out, you an Ezra should definitely come too.”