"What do you mean?"
"Well, a lot of people up here think you're dumb or gullible if you sound southern."
"Really? Thanks for the tip." Megan hesitated. "But I guess it doesn't matter now. I'm going home. And I don't know if I'll ever get to come back."
"Oh, don't say that, Honey. I'm sure things will work out for you."
Megan began to cry, and wipe her eyes. She got up and walked to the restroom.
Cam waited a few seconds, and followed Megan into the restroom. Bending down to look under the stalls, she saw only one pair of shoes. And she could hear Megan sobbing.
Cam slipped back out to the entrance and looked around. Nobody was approaching. She would knock on Megan's stall door, and the foolish little teen would open it to her new friend. Cam would step inside to console her, place her hands on the sides of Megan's sweet, young head, and give it a violent twist. After balancing the girl's corpse on the toilet, she would walk away, and mark the first notch on her kill belt.
The adrenaline rush was amazing. Cam's body tingled with anticipation as she walked to the stall of death. She was about to knock when five college girls ran into the restroom.
Cam turned around and walked over to a sink. She opened her purse and took out her powder. The co-eds would get their business done quickly and clear out. Megan would be unlikely to exit her stall while the cheery babes were in the bathroom.
Cam counted the girls out of the corner of her eye as each one came out of a stall, washed her hands, and left. She was careful to avoid eye contact, not wanting to be remembered as the strange woman lurking in the restroom.
She bent down to look under the stalls. Yes. Only one pair of shoes. Cam hurried to the stall door and knocked.
Megan didn't answer.
Cam knocked again. "Megan?" She needed to do it fast, before somebody else wandered in.
Still no answer.
She stretched to her tiptoes and peeked over the top of the door. "Megan?"
"Do you mind, Lady?"
The girl looking up at her was not Megan. It was one of the college girls. Megan had not been in that stall, but in the one next to it. She had slipped out with four of the college girls. "Dammit."
Cam ran out of the restroom. Megan's plane was already boarding, and she was nowhere in sight. Cam had a ticket, but she was on standby. And the plane was full. But flying to Dallas had never part of Cam's plan anyway. The ticket was just to get her through security.
She watched the plane pull away from the gate.
It should have been so easy.
CHAPTER 30 - Tuesday, 9:26 p.m.
Harvey poured himself another glass of Pinot Noir. "Yes, 2004 was a very good year." He took a sip.
But, of course, this year would be even better—now that Big Bill was a giant sack of worm food. He sat down in his overstuffed leather chair and gazed at his wall-to-wall bookshelf. He had actually read some of those books. Many were leather bound. None were paperback. Harvey enjoyed bringing dinner guests into his study for a drink, just to impress them with his large personal library.
Catherine was gone for good. She had grown tired of Harvey's late nights and weekends at the office. Never having time for her or their children. She had taken the girls to her mother's house. He would be expecting a call from her divorce attorney.
Harvey would give her whatever she wanted. No long, drawn out divorce. The quicker the better—so he could marry the true love of his life: Kimberly. The very thought of her name raised his blood pressure—in a good way.
Yes, he would divorce Catherine, marry Kimberly, and become the new CEO of Smotherburn Technologies. He took another sip and smiled. Running the company every day. Banging Kimberly every night. What a life it would be.
**********
The intruder wrapped a soft cloth around the head of the hammer and tapped it against one of the panes in the kitchen door. The pane broke and glass fell to the floor inside. The study was located in the other wing of the house, so he wouldn't hear a thing.
Reaching in through the broken window with a gloved hand, it was easy to unlock the deadbolt and open the door. No alarm would sound. Harvey never set it until bedtime.
Harvey was so busy drinking wine and dreaming of his honeymoon with Kimberly that he didn't notice the tip of the suppressor emerging from the edge of the door frame. He should have spotted the gun aiming at the side of his head, twelve feet away.
But he didn't.
And he didn't feel the bullet when it pierced his temple, passed through his brain, and out the other side of his head.
Harvey slumped over. The glass fell from his hand, splashing red wine onto the plush, white carpet.
On the way out the kitchen door, the killer dropped a small silver item on the floor.
CHAPTER 31 - Tuesday, 9:40 p.m.
As Gabby pulled into Wiley's driveway, his phone rang.
"Melvin?...Well, are you okay? I tried calling you earlier...I see...good...thanks, Melvin. And I'm so sorry I got you into a dangerous situation...okay. Take care."
Gabby ended the call. "He's okay. Just a few bruises. No broken bones."
"Thank goodness. I was really worried about him."
They got out of the car and walked up to Wiley's front door.
Rebecca rang the doorbell.
Gabby peeked in through the sidelight window. "I don't see anybody. Try knocking."
Rebecca knocked on the door.
Still no response.
"Maybe he's passed out," said Rebecca.
"It's kinda early to be drunk."
"Yeah, I guess."
Gabby glanced over his shoulder. "Did you see that car slow down as it passed by?"
"No."
"I think somebody's watching us. Maybe we'd better get out of here."
"I want to find out if Wiley knows about the contract."
"That's probably what he and Bobby were arguing about."
"So, maybe now he's gone over to confront Kimberly."
Headlights from the road caught Gabby's attention. "There's that car again."
"Okay. Let's go."
They got into Gabby's car and he backed out of the driveway. As he backed into the street, he saw a car in his rearview mirror making a U-turn. Gabby gunned the accelerator. "They're following us." He ignored the stop sign at the end of the street, and turned right.
The other car followed.
For blocks, Gabby tried to elude the chaser. Finally, he turned off his lights.
Rebecca panicked. "What are you doing? You're going to hit something."
"Don't worry. I've done this before."
His eyes began to adjust to the near darkness in front of him. He turned into a used car lot, pulled in between two pickups, and killed the engine.
They sat perfectly still, barely breathing.
Headlights drove by. After a minute or so, they began to relax.
There were two taps on Gabby's window.
When he turned, he was looking into the end of a gun barrel.
"Get out," a gruff voice said.
They obeyed. The men patted them down. One thug took Gabby's smartphone and threw it across the pavement. The other one grabbed Rebecca's phone, pulled off her shoulder holster and pistol and tossed everything on the ground. They zip-tied their wrists behind their backs.
Once they were in the black full-sized van, with the two thugs in the seat behind them, the man in the front passenger seat turned around. They recognized him immediately as Bobby Ballantini—Joey's right hand man. His face looked eerie, backlit by the soft glow of the instrument panel. "I'm afraid you two have been bad little children. Now you're going to the principal's office."
Rebecca had made plenty of trips to the principal's office. A couple of times she even got paddled, with permission from her dad. And she had deserved it.
But she and Gabby were in for more than a paddling. In retrospect, perhaps turning themselves in to the police would not have been such a bad idea after all.
/>
The van drove into a warehouse. Once the warehouse door closed, the lights came on, and they saw Joey standing there.
The two goons ordered them out of the car and over to where Joey was waiting. "Well, hello, Heather."
He slapped Rebecca in the face with a vengeance, and she stumbled backward. "I mean Rebecca Ranghorn."
After Joey had caught her in his office and then nearly had sex with her, he might have wondered if she'd had some ulterior motive for being there. Perhaps he realized he had left his desk unlocked—and that she had probably seen his contract to purchase Café Nue.
"And this is your buddy, Gabby. How are you doing, Gabby?" Joey punched him in the stomach.
Gabby fell to his knees, gasping for breath.
Joey stepped back. "Now, you can make this easy. Or you can make it painful."
Rebecca looked straight into his eyes. "What's the point? You're going to kill us anyway."
Joey laughed. "That's Old School. I'm sophisticated. Subtle. Just answer my questions and I'll let you go on your merry way."
Rebecca hoped Gabby wasn't falling for Joey's bullshit.
He stepped up close to her. "Tell me what you know about my contract."
"What contract?" said Rebecca.
"Wrong answer." Joey punched her in the face. "One more chance."
Blood dripped from Rebecca's nose. She wondered if she had lost a tooth. "Screw you."
"No. Screw you." Joey punched her in the stomach.
Rebecca fell to the concrete in agony.
Gabby said, "You bastard!"
One of the goons jabbed a rock-hard fist into Gabby's ribs, and he collapsed to the floor in the fetal position.
"Leave him alone, you son of a bitch," screamed Rebecca.
One of the goons handed Joey a four-foot galvanized pipe.
Joey grasped the pipe as though it were a baseball bat, and stepped over to where Gabby was lying. "You know, Gabby, back in the day, I was a helluva ball player."
"Okay. Wait." Rebecca gasped. "I saw the contract."
"Now, see how easy that was? And did you tell anybody about it?"
"Just Gabby."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yes."
Joey cocked the bat, ready to take a swing at Gabby's head. "Are you still sure?"
"Yes!"
"Get them out of here," said Joey.
The goon yanked Rebecca's arm, pulling her to her feet. He and the other thug threw them back into the van.
It was a long drive, but nobody spoke a word.
When the van drove into an abandoned marina, Rebecca understood what Bobby had in mind for them. Her nose was bleeding and her teeth felt loose. And she guessed that Gabby was suffering from cracked ribs. But what did it matter? They were about to be fish food.
Bobby stayed in the van with the driver while the two backseat thugs unloaded Rebecca and Gabby. They ordered them to sit down on the dock, and used a rope to tie them together, back to back. Then they zip-tied their ankles.
The thugs walked to the car. Rebecca expected them to come back with cinder blocks and chains.
The engine started up, and the van drove away.
"What the hell?" said Gabby.
CHAPTER 32 - Tuesday, 10:19 p.m.
Gabby said, "So, if Joey's not going to kill us..."
"He probably hired somebody—like whoever it was that killed Calvin."
"Wonderful."
"Fall over to your side."
"Why? What are we going to do? Play dead? I don't think that's going to—"
"—no, Silly. Just do it. Fall over to your right side."
"Okay, I'll play along."
They tipped over together.
"Now, we'll stretch our legs out straight so our heels are touching."
"Okay. Now what? Is this some kind of Houdini trick?"
"Not exactly. We'll roll over to the edge of the dock. There's a lower deck. I saw the stairs."
"We're gonna roll down the stairs?"
"We'll try to hide down there."
"I guess that's better than sitting here in plain view."
"Yeah. They could drive out here in a big truck and just run over us."
"That's not how I want to go out."
"Okay, then let's go with my plan."
"Wait. How are we going to do this?"
"I'll roll on top of you. Then you'll roll on top of me."
"Sounds painful—especially with our hands tied behind us."
"If we roll fast, it won't be so bad. Let's go."
They began to roll, gradually picking up speed.
"Whoa. Hold it," said Gabby. "I'm going to be sick."
They stopped on their sides.
"Go ahead," said Rebecca. "Throw up. But try not to do it where my head is about to be."
"Don't rush me. I'm dizzy. But I think I'll be okay in a minute."
"Listen. Do you hear that? A car's coming."
Rebecca heaved to the side and they began to roll again. She could hear the car getting closer. No. It was at least two cars.
Almost to the edge of the dock. The cars would be there any moment. They rolled down the stairs at full speed, banging their way to the lower deck. At the bottom, Rebecca's head hit the wood, nearly knocking her out.
They continued to roll several more feet.
Rebecca said, "We've got to roll over there—under the overhang."
They were all banged up, but getting pretty good at maneuvering themselves. They rolled under the upper deck, to the very edge of the lower deck. Gabby faced the edge.
Cars drove onto the dock. Rebecca figured two cars. Doors opened.
One of the men said, "I thought they were supposed to be sitting right here."
That's no hit man or gang member, thought Rebecca. It's cops. So, they weren't going to be murdered. Her arms and hands were both sore and somewhat numb from the rolling trip. But the zip-tie around her wrists didn't seem as tight. Could it have stretched? Not likely, she thought. In fact, her wrists and hands should have been swollen after the all that rolling. She pulled with all her might. There was no pain—only numbness. Would she even feel it if the plastic zip-tie was peeling the skin off of her hands?
Another cop said, "Mike, you and Ron check that building over there. And that old pickup. Me and Bill will search the boats."
Rebecca saw the flashlight beams approaching. She heard two cops coming down the stairs.
They began to shine their lights into each boat.
It was only a matter of time before one of the flashlights pointed toward them. She yanked her left hand, trying desperately to free it. But if she did manage to get her hands loose, then what? She and Gabby should probably give up. Yell to the cops. Go to jail.
But she still didn't know who framed her for Big Bill's murder. Could she trust the cops to figure it out? She was the obvious killer. Open and shut case. Why investigate further?
The cops worked their way outward to the ends of the dock, and began to walk back toward the center.
Rebecca saw one of them shining his light under the edge of the upper dock. Within twenty seconds she and Gabby would be discovered. No! She thrust her body upward and over Gabby.
They rolled off the dock, into the water.
CHAPTER 33 - Tuesday, 10:39 p.m.
As they sunk ever deeper into the dark water, Gabby wondered why in the world Rebecca had done it. Jail would have been better than instant death. If they could hold their breath long enough, would they eventually bob to the surface and float? But even if they could float, being back to back, wouldn't one be breathing while the other drowned?
Surely the police had heard them splash into the water.
Gabby felt the gradual rotation to vertical as they went down. When he felt the soft muddy bottom, he instinctively bent his knees, hoping Rebecca was doing the same. As soon as he reached a squatting position, he jumped up. Apparently she had done the same thing, because they were now bulleting toward the surface. Woul
d they make it to the top? They might not have enough oxygen for a second try.
Miraculously, their heads broke through the surface of the water.
Gabby began to move his legs frantically, like a mermaid's tail, trying to stay above the water.
Rebecca whispered. "Be still. I've got us."
Gabby stopped. How were they staying afloat? What was Rebecca doing—resting her chin on the ledge? For now, he didn't care how she was doing it. He wanted to call out to the police before they went under again.
One of the cops said, "I think it came from over here somewhere."
Gabby saw the flashlight beam, and realized that he and Rebecca were under the lower deck. There was a foot of clearance between the lower deck and the water. He almost yelled for help. But he couldn't. Rebecca had told him to hold still. He trusted her.
"Probably just a fish," said one of the cops.
"Must have been a big one."
After the cops had walked along the back edge of the lower dock inspecting it with their flashlights for another minute or so, they went back up the stairs and joined their fellow officers. Soon, doors opened and closed, and the cars drove away.
Gabby said, "How are you holding—"
"—quiet," said Rebecca.
When the cars were far away, Gabby wanted to speak, but he waited. He could hear his heart beating in his ears.
"Okay," said Rebecca. "They're gone."
"How are you holding us up?"
"I managed to pull my hands loose. I'm holding onto a joist. It's one of the boards that support the decking."
"Well, you could have told me, so I wouldn't have thought we were going to drown."
"They would have heard me. I pulled it free right before I rolled us into the water."
"I really thought we were dead."
"I'm sorry. I just couldn't let them put us in jail knowing Big Bill's killer might never be caught."
"We'd probably both get life."
"Or the electric chair."
"Well, I don't want to fry. But I sure don't want to drown either."
"Don't worry. I've got it under control." She began to untie the rope that was holding them back to back.
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