by Rick Murcer
More than that was how she carried herself, especially given what she’d gone through the last two days. Pretty amazing.
Manny stood, wincing as he jostled the hand with the broken fingers.
“It’s a true pleasure to meet you, Detective Manny Williams. I’ve heard much of you. Chloe, well, she doesn’t exaggerate, and I can tell a good man . . . usually.”
“I’m—”
Haley Rose put her finger on his lips. “Let me finish, will ya?”
He nodded.
“I want to thank ya for figuring things out and coming to my rescue. I might not be here if ya hadn’t. I know you were doing your job, but you came running like family, and that’s special, especially to me and my daughter. I’ll not forget that, ever.” She hugged him tightly then stepped back. A strange, sad look accompanied her tears.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I heard what ya said about Fredrick, about what he could’ve been. You were right. I saw it in him.”
“Maybe, but he was going to leave you drowned while he tried to escape.”
Chloe stepped close and grasped her mother’s hand.
“He wouldn’t have done it,” said Haley Rose. “I saw the look in his eyes just before you hit him from behind. Did you wonder why he stopped?”
“Argyle stopped? That’s why I hit his back and not his legs? He stopped?”
“It’s true. He put his hands on my arms and then didn’t move. It was like he was rethinking things.”
Glancing at Chloe, then back to Haley Rose, he knew he had to ask the question. “Did you love him?”
“I’m afraid I did. It’s not hard to see how others would follow him, do things for him, strange and terrible things even. But it was more than that for me. I loved the fascinating, witty, sexy man that showed himself to me. It was hard not to.”
“You know that’s all part of the psychopath persona, right? They can be amazingly charming and persuasive. They have the ability to know what you need most, and give it to you . . . or at least the illusion of it. Our own Max Tucker is an example.”
Her eyes came alive. “Now, I understand that folks like Chloe and you are the experts on that sort of thing, and I respect that. But this was a matter of the heart, and I think Dr. Fredrick Argyle felt something he never had before. I think he had feelings for me. If you think I’m wrong, explain why he could’ve killed me a million times over, and didn’t do it—go ahead, explain it.”
The woman stood toe-to-toe with Manny, never balking. He could say that men like Argyle never had the capacity for feelings. That he was the world’s greatest mimic, even on an emotional level. He could say that. Except he suddenly didn’t feel entirely confidant in those facts.
Could the Doctor actually have cared for someone else?
“I can’t explain it, Haley Rose, I can’t. I guess we’ll never really know.”
Cocking her head toward him, she smiled. “Ya sound just like my daughter, ya do.”
Josh seemed to appear out of nowhere, wearing a worried look. “I hate to interrupt, but we’ve got another problem.”
Chapter-72
One more margarita wouldn’t hurt anything. Even though the last one had been strong, she’d always been able to hold her liquor. In fact, while in college, she lost track of how many men she’d put under the table, taking their money in the process, as they lost the bet. Besides, the waiter had a cute ass and wasn’t bad-looking either. She could tell that he appreciated her . . . assets . . . as well. Each time he came to check on her, his first glance was down her low-cut blouse. A fun little game for a while, but she was also starting to feel some concern. She’d tried to call Argyle at least twenty times in the last hour, and there’d been no answer. If she could hear his voice—that soothing, deep tone—things would be right with the world. Not that it mattered all that much, because Manny Williams had this coming to him. Lying prick. Her Fredrick could never do any of those terrible things Williams had accused him of. He’d even managed to convince the Feds that her Frederick was a sadistic serial killer. What a piece-of-shit set-up. She’d know if there was anything going on like that. Good God, she wasn’t an idiot.
She pulled the phone out and dialed him again. Voice mail, again. Her phone read 7:40. Good. It would be dark in thirty minutes or so, but meanwhile, having another margarita was a perfectly acceptable avenue to occupy herself. There were worse things than keeping company with a drink.
Ten minutes later, her patience was exhausted. Leaving a hundred dollar bill on the table, she hurried to the Mustang, revved up, and watched the tachometer bury somewhere past a billion.
Slamming the powerful muscle car into gear, she sped out of the parking lot, heading south for one last visit with Jennifer Williams. What an interesting visit it would be.
She could hardly wait.
Chapter-73
“What problem? Are you in trouble with the OPR stuff?”
“No. I wish that was it. They’ll figure out I didn’t shoot Ruby Hayes just because I felt like it.”
By then, Alex, Sophie, and Detective Clark had gathered near.
“Is there a question of me shooting Argyle?”
“Hardly. You had about forty witnesses who saw that he gave you no option. Good thing too; the CSI folks think the liquid in that vial was concentrated cyanide and could have left a lot of bodies if he could have gotten to it.”
Manny hated where this was going and felt his panic rise too far, too fast. “Something back home?”
Josh sighed. “Remember that phone number we couldn’t ID on Ruby Hayes’s phone?”
“The one we traced to the dumpster? What about it?”
“Your partner’s idea to see if there were any traffic or big-brother cameras paid off. It took them eight straight hours of searching and analysis, but they believe they got a hit.”
Sophie stepped close to Josh and bumped him with her hip. “And you thought I was all beauty and no brains.”
Manny spoke. “Okay, so they got a hit. We assumed it was probably a gangbanger or someone else not living legal. That’s not it, is it?”
“They don’t think so. They had trouble enhancing the video, even going frame-by-frame. They recruited the Miami CSI department and even sent a copy to your department in Lansing.”
“Buzzy Dancer is good at that stuff, so that makes sense, but get to it. You’re making me nervous.”
“All right. I just got a call from the Miami PD—Detective Swifton, to be exact—saying that Buzzy was a great help, and they cleaned up the video enough to make an identification of the caller.”
“The girl is amazing. So who is it?” asked Alex.
“It appears to be . . . well . . . Destina Flores, the Carousel security chief.”
The group felt the collective stun at Josh’s words.
“What the hell was she doing there?” demanded Manny, running his hand through his hair. He recalled how Destina had taken an interest in watching over and spending time with Jennifer. His pulse raced.
Josh shook his head. “We don’t know. Swifton went to her office to talk, and she was gone. She then went to Destina’s house, and she wasn’t there either. Neither Destina’s assistant nor her secretary knows where she went.”
“Okay. This doesn’t sound so good,” frowned Manny.
Tight lipped, Josh continued. “Swifton thought it odd enough to get a warrant to check her credit cards and bank transactions. It appears she moved over a million dollars to a Cayman Island account, and took over $300,000 in cash out of the bank.”
“Today?” asked Manny.
“Yeah, today . . . well, yesterday. But that’s not all. One of her credit cards showed a charge to an airline. Swifton went to the airport, showed the warrant to the supervisor, and got a destination.”
Manny watched as Josh swallowed harder than he needed to.
“It appears she flew to Lansing.”
“What?” asked Sophie.
“She also rented a Musta
ng, a fast one, and didn’t seem to care who knew it.”
“Have you—?”
“Yes. We’ve notified Gavin and your department, the FBI office in Detroit, the Michigan State Police, and the Ingham County Sheriff’s Department. That’s all we can do. But they’re good people, and there’s no way she’s going to get close to Jennifer.”
Grabbing the cell phone from his jacket, he dialed Jen’s number and waited as Argyle’s last haunting words abruptly came back to him.
But will it be over?
He’d blown it off as one last ranting from a psycho who was about to meet the Maker he’d never acknowledged. But now this.
Jen’s voicemail kicked in. After a brief interlude of In a Gadda Da Vita, he heard her sweet voice ask him to leave her a message. He clicked the phone shut, then tried again, praying they weren’t too late. And maybe worse, that he hadn’t broken his promise to protect her, no matter what.
“No matter what” felt a long, long way away.
Chapter-74
Destina Flores threw her smartphone on the passenger floor and swore. She desperately wanted to hear from Fredrick, though she didn’t need to exactly. She was still going to do what she’d set out to do this morning: kill Jennifer Williams. It was nothing personal. In fact, she enjoyed the time the two of them had spent together. It gave her a glimpse at what it would’ve been like to have a younger sister. But you can’t change who your parents are, and it was Jennifer’s misfortune to be the child of one Manny Williams.
Shit happens.
As she waited at the red light, she checked her handbag for what she’d need to bring more misery into the Lansing detective’s life. The blade of the newly purchased hunting knife gleamed under the streetlamp. She also had a fair amount of chloroform, disguised as a three-ounce bottle of perfume, just in case things got crazy. She suspected they could.
Michigan’s gun laws are tight, so she couldn’t even buy a shotgun without state ID, but if this gig went as planned, she’d have one within a few minutes of arriving at the house. She hadn’t gotten to be head of security at Carousel because she was unskilled or stupid.
The light turned to green, and she hit the gas like she was at the local drag strip. By the time she’d made it one city block, she was touching seventy miles per hour. The next light was about two blocks away and still green. She’d bet a million dollars that no one had ever made it from one light to another in one change cycle—until now.
Destina stomped on the gas pedal, worked the clutch, and threw the Mustang into fifth gear, laughing like an inmate in an asylum.
With half a block to go, the light turned yellow, but it only made her more determined to make it. The speedometer said she was over ninety miles per hour and climbing fast. It was going to be close.
At one hundred yards, the light still glowed amber. She gave Ford’s most famous muscle car another push and hit the intersection just after the light turned red. She burst through it and threw her head back laughing even harder. She’d hit a different high on the adrenaline rush chart and felt every nerve in her body vibrate in response.
She only noticed the black Hummer pull out from the side street, near Murcer’s Bar and Grill, when it was too late. She stood on the brakes, trying to swerve at the same time, but her hand slipped off the wheel. Destina Flores started to scream, but it was over before she finished the thought. The Mustang hammered the huge SUV at almost eighty miles per hour.
Chapter-75
Standing on the gravelly beach, watching as the full moon rose above the Emerald Isle’s uneven landscape, Manny absently hung up the phone, then bowed his head in silent, thankful prayer. Destina Flores was dead, and his daughter and he had been spared. Gavin had called to fill him in on most of the details of Destina’s death. He’d thought it appropriate to share with the others as the Lansing commissioner finished.
The collective sigh of relief was obvious; the underlying ambience saying that maybe their luck had turned was inescapable. Destina was one less psycho follower of the mastermind. Manny prayed she was the last.
He’d read the eyewitness reports when he reached home, but onlookers would say it was the most spectacular thing they’d ever seen. You had to be there to believe it.
The Mustang had made violent contact with the Hummer, exploding into a shower of metal and glass, some of it reaching a hundred feet high into the Lansing night. The convertible had been there one moment and obliterated the next.
The blow had punched the SUV over onto its side, causing it to skid down Cedar Street with remnants of the Ford still attached to the undercarriage. One witness claimed that it took only a few seconds before the real fireworks started, others said it took a little longer. But all agreed that there was the lower half of a woman’s body attached to wreckage when it all exploded, no doubt a result of an unfortunate spark touching volatile gas fumes.
When the police had arrived, they’d checked the crinkled license plate from the back section of the Mustang against state registrations and got the APB warning. The first on the scene called Gavin and gave him the update. Gavin had ordered the officer to provide confirmation, and the officer said they would provide it as soon as they found enough of her, or some ID, to confirm. Gavin told him to hustle his ass and find it.
The young cop had put Gavin on hold just as one of the firefighters brought him a tattered change purse with Destina Flores’s Florida driver’s license inside. That was all of the confirmation Gavin had needed to call Manny and tell him Jennifer was safe.
As beautiful as those words were—that Jennifer was safe—Manny needed to see for himself.
He worked his way back to the others.
“I’m going home now.” He smiled weakly at his partner. “Sophie, you’re right. This smartphone did come in handy, and I was able to book a flight, an expensive flight, but it leaves in a couple of hours, and I’ll be on it.”
“Did you book two because I’m going with you?” she asked.
“We’ll be leaving within twenty-four hours after we get a few more details taken care of anyway,” said Josh. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait? We could have a pint, or three, in an Irish pub, and maybe we could get you to sing a little karaoke,” grinned Josh.
“Never mind, I’m staying,” laughed Sophie.
“Me too,” said Alex. “You sure you won’t? You could teach us a thing or two with a mic.”
Manny shook his head. “I almost broke my promise to Jen, and I need to get home. God had my back, so she’s okay. Good thing too, I wouldn’t have been able to take it again . . .” his words trailed off.
“I understand. We’ll get you to the airport,” said Josh, growing quiet, reaching for Manny’s hand at the same time. “There’s one more thing, before you go.”
“What is it?”
“What about the job offer? It still stands and we need you. Your country needs you.”
Manny rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You’re pulling the ‘Your Country Needs You’ thing? Give me some time to get home and talk with Jen. I’ll let you know next week, deal?”
“It sounded good, though . . . but you have a deal.”
Detective Clark tapped him on the shoulder and shook his hand, too. “This young man will drive you to the Port. But I want to thank you for helping to bring closure to the families and friends that have suffered at the hands of Argyle. He’d still be out there if it weren’t for you.”
“We did it together.”
Clark smiled a thin line. “Have it your way then.” He turned back toward the small sailboat where Argyle’s body lay covered.
Chloe stood twenty feet away, near the waves that rolled gently to the beach. Manny walked to her, got close, and hesitated. She had her hand up in the universal signal to stop. He did.
“I’m staying here with my family for as long as I need to. I won’t be coming back to the Bureau for a while, maybe ever,” she said.
“I see. Maybe you just need some time to get your head where you
want it.”
“You could be right, but it’s about the things you keep talking about, you know, how important family has to be. I’ve finally learned that lesson.”
Chloe took a step forward. “This is hard for me, Manny Williams,” she whispered. “I want to be part of your life, but I want what’s best for you, even if that doesn’t include me.”
“Chloe, I . . . I . . .” He reached for her hand. She backed away.
“Remember what I said about jumping you if you touched me?”
He nodded.
“I meant your heart as well. I think I could get your clothes off, but I’m not sure I can ever undress the rest of you,” she said, her eyes shining.
She was right. He’d ruin her life too. There would always be Louise, always her shadow, always his guilt for not keeping her safe. They both knew it. There wasn’t much he could say that hadn’t already been said in the last few days. There was no sense trying to fool her—or himself.
Manny had made some hard choices in his life, including trying to whip the workaholic demon that shadowed him like a lost dog, but nothing like this. Nothing.
Giving her a half-smile that felt more like a dagger in the heart, he spoke. “Goodbye, Chloe Franson. Take care of yourself.”
He turned and headed for the car that would roll him out of her life.
Chapter-76
Three weeks later, and a week after the one-year anniversary of Louise’s death, Manny sat at the oak table in his kitchen staring at the object in his hand. It was past midnight, and Jen had just kissed him good night, the echo of her door closing still hanging in the air.
He shifted in his chair and managed a smile as he turned the object over. “Official Federal Bureau of Investigation Agent Identification” was stamped on the thick, black ID holder. He brought it close to his nose and inhaled the scent of pure leather. He felt like a kid with a new toy.
Flipping it back to the other side, he ran his finger over his picture—not a great one, but it worked. On the left half of the FBI ID, imprinted in an arching style, read “US Department of Justice, Federal Bureau of Investigation,” then underneath that, “Special Agent Manfred Robert Williams.” He read it again. Even though he’d been a cop for seventeen years, he was now a Fed. He knew all of the jokes, all of the stereotypes that accompanied that title, but the truth was the FBI and the CIA only took the best of the best. He wondered what his dad would think of that. Not just a cop, but a cop’s cop.