No Good Deed

by Susanne Matthews

  Mike laughed. “Good thing I came in the back. What will we do about my Ski-Doo?”

  “Who does it belong to?”

  “Me, but there’s no paperwork on it. I got it from a guy who owed me a favor who happens to repossess things when people don’t pay their bills.”

  “Let’s go put it in my garage. I’ve had trouble with my old one and could use something reliable.” He shrugged.

  “Consider it yours. I paid for it with their money,” Mike said and laughed. “Someone should get something out of this mess.”

  • • •

  Mike sat at the kitchen table, looking through the newspaper Andy had dropped there a short while ago. There were several stories about damage caused by the storm, but nothing else of interest to him. After they’d shuffled the snowmobiles around, he’d gone up and checked on Alexa.

  She’d been curled up into the fetal position, something he wasn’t sure was good for her back, but what did he know? If she could sleep that way, it couldn’t be adding to her discomfort. He’d placed her bag on the chair and the doll on the table next to the bed. Colette had said to let her sleep, and he knew enough not to argue with her. Instead, he’d kissed Alexa’s brow, a foolish gesture, but he’d been compelled to do it.

  He’d put Alexa through hell these past forty-eight hours, not to mention the havoc he’d wreaked on his own healing body. Carrying her and the backpack wouldn’t have been part of the doctor’s recommendations for taking it easy. At the moment, his ribs ached almost as much as they had in the hospital. Thank God Colette had had something to give him for the pain.

  But, if he had to, he would do it again.

  “She should be waking up soon,” he said, more to reassure himself than anything else. “It’s almost noon.”

  Andy nodded and chewed on the stem of his pipe, a gesture that pulled Mike back twenty years.

  “I thought you’d quit smoking. That stuff will kill you.”

  Laughing, Andy handed him the pipe. “You aren’t as observant as you used to be, mon vieux, but then you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

  The pipe wasn’t lit and, from the look of it, hadn’t held tobacco in years.

  “I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with the two of you,” Andy explained, “and I find it easier to think with it in my mouth. Chewing gum doesn’t work for me.” He shrugged and gestured with the pipe. “Parking a new snowmobile in my garage was easy, but searching for a secure place to hide the two of you is more difficult, especially given our time restraints. If whoever is behind this—this magician—is as resourceful as you suspect, he’ll work fast. We should probably leave right now, but we can’t. The best we can do is leave first thing in the morning. She’ll be wide awake by then, I’m certain of it. In the meantime, I’ll contact the airline. Colette’s sister will be thrilled to have us visit, but that won’t solve your problem.”

  “I know, but I feel terrible about this. You’ll pay through the roof for those tickets. I’ve got lots of money, and since you’ve proved it isn’t counterfeit, let me cover the cost of your plane fare.”

  Andy laughed. “It may not look like it, but Colette and I are well off. There were a few perks to my job. Right now, let me worry about little things like plane tickets. You’ve got enough on your plate. Tell me, do the bastards hunting for you know what you look like?”

  “Now? Probably not,” Mike uttered softly and rubbed his bare chin. “I had a full beard, and you saw the hair. It aged me, and as far as Alexa’s ex-fiancé goes, we’ve never met.”

  “That helps, and now that your hair’s been cut, you’ve cleaned up nicely,” Andy acknowledged, “but the bruises aren’t completely gone. Colette has something you can use. Regardless of who’s actually after you, we’ll definitely have to change the lady’s appearance, but I’ll let my wife handle that. Disguises were her specialty. When we were working overseas, she was the best there was.”

  “But we can’t change the fact that Alexa needs a wheelchair. She can use the crutches for short periods of time, but—”

  “So?” Andy cut him off. “Get her a wheelchair. There are lots of reasons why someone might need crutches and a wheelchair, especially during the winter. We just have to make sure people see what we want them to see.”

  Mike nodded. The situation might’ve changed, but his task was the same—protect Alexa at all costs—only now, whether he liked it or not, it was more than an assignment; it was personal.

  Andy stood and stared into space, almost as if he were visualizing an invisible chart with all the answers on it.

  “We definitely need to get you away from here as soon as possible. If your mole is as high up as you think he is, you’re right. He or she knows everything about you right down to your underwear size. We also need to make sure no one sees us together. Tomorrow, I’ll drive the Jeep with the two of you under blankets on the back seat. We’ll make it a bed, so she shouldn’t be too uncomfortable. I’ll make sure everyone knows we’re going to Florida for a few weeks, and I’ll take Pitou to the kennel this afternoon.”

  “How is that going to help us?” Mike asked.

  “I promised Colette a new car. Hers has been acting up, and I’ll get a better deal in Gatineau. I’ve spoken to the guy I deal with, and he’s expecting it later this week. He’ll just have it sooner than he thinks. She can follow me in her vehicle. Once we’re in Ontario and I’m certain we haven’t been followed, you can take Colette’s car. We’ll head to the airport, park the Jeep, and get on the first flight we can to Florida.”

  “And where do we go? Am I taking the car to this dealership?”

  Andy laughed. “Always so impatient. Nice to see some things never change. I haven’t made the final plans yet—still need to hear from a couple of my contacts—but you’ll travel south to Cornwall. While you were checking on Alexa, I spoke to a colleague who manages a hotel there. He knows how to keep a secret. I’ll have him set you up for a couple of nights—she’ll need to rest. He’ll have another vehicle waiting for you and see to it Colette’s car is returned to the dealership in Gatineau later in the day. If someone’s checking up on us, everything will be exactly the way we say it is. Once you’re settled, you’ll need to lay a false trail and contact Henri. The man needs to know you’re alive. I’ve got a couple of people looking into Zabat, this magician, as well as this Richard Fields. Better to know as much as we can about what we’re up against.”

  Mike huffed out a frustrated breath. “Sorry. I’m just antsy. You know how I hate it when plans fall apart. As far as Henri goes, you’re right. I’ve missed my check-in. He could’ve put that down to poor cell service given the storm. I’m sure he’s got nothing to do with this, but . . . ”

  “You can’t assume anything. I get it.”

  Staring into his coffee mug, Mike searched for answers that weren’t there, trying to make sense of everything that had happened as well as what Andy had said.

  “So we’ll hide in Cornwall?” He fought to keep the skepticism out of his voice. He’d sprung this on his old friend. The least he could do is appreciate the trouble he was going through.

  “Only for a couple of days. Hiding away is one thing, but vanishing is a lot harder than you think it is.”

  “Thanks, Andy. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been here. There weren’t too many places or people I could turn to. If anyone can help us disappear, it’ll be you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” the old man said. “But, you still look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Something else is bothering you. You might as well tell me. I won’t give up until you do, and you know it.”

  “It’s the damn inconsistencies. The execution took place eight months ago, the drug raid last week, and both times, even though Zabat was there, when push came to shove, he could prove he was elsewhere. How the hell has he managed to be in two places at once?” Mike asked, scratching his head. “And, while I’ve got no proof, I’m sure it
must’ve happened before.”

  The old man shook his head. “Even the almighty Nicoli Zabat can’t defy the laws of nature, but appearing to be in two places at once is easier these days than you think. I’ll make a few quiet calls, see if I can get the pictures of him at those public functions he supposedly attended. Maybe his magic act is simply a matter of using Photoshop to put him where he wasn’t.”

  “Maybe.” Mike stood, walked over to the coffeepot, and emptied the last cupful from the carafe.

  “I’ll make another pot in a few minutes,” Andy said. “Is there any chance he has a brother or cousin who looks like him? Maybe he found his double or had one made. He wouldn’t be the first to do that. Hitler supposedly had several men who could take his place when he wanted to be elsewhere, and Hollywood is full of lookalikes.”

  “Come on, Andy. Zabat may be the mob’s next godfather, but he’s no Hitler, and believe it or not, I don’t think he’s that important. You’re thinking like a spy again. Besides, they used that idea as a plot point in a James Bond movie—Thunderball, I think.”

  “It’s not that farfetched an idea,” Andy argued. “It would explain his being in two places at once, wouldn’t it? And he wouldn’t have to resort to plastic surgery. We’ve come a long way with masks and special effects makeup—”

  “Mike, you’d better come,” Colette said, hurrying into the room.

  He jumped to his feet, overturning his empty mug. “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s having a nightmare, mumbling in Greek, but I can’t wake her up,” Colette said, wringing her hands.

  If this was anything like her last nightmare, no wonder Colette was upset. Mumbling in Greek? This had to be a different dream. Alexa hadn’t said anything about Richard being Greek. He hurried from the room.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Thanks,” Alexa said, pushing the plate away from her and reaching for the tea.

  Mike hadn’t left her side other than the few minutes it had taken her to shower and change into clean clothes, and she wasn’t sure that was a good thing. His hovering made her nervous.

  “Feeling better?” he asked.

  “Yes. The analgesics Madame Gaudin gave me helped, as did the shower. I should apologize for jumping to conclusions out there earlier. I was scared and sore. I should realize by now that you’re one of the good guys.”

  “Forget it. No harm, no foul. In your shoes, I might’ve thought the same thing.”

  “Where are our hosts, by the way?”

  “Andy’s gone to take their dog to the kennel since they’re going out of town tomorrow, and Colette is shopping for a few things to disguise you.”

  “I was thinking about that before we left the chalet. I’ve wanted to cut my hair for some time now, but Richard wouldn’t allow it.”

  “Colette’s an expert at altering people’s appearances.”

  “Is she a makeup artist?”

  “You could say that.”

  He was splitting hairs. Why?

  “Is she responsible for your makeover? Maybe that’s why I didn’t recognize you when I woke up.” The close-cropped hair suited him and made him look younger than he had before.

  “She cut my hair, yes, and put stuff in it to darken it,” he said, his forehead creased, “but Lex, it was more than that, and we both know it. That wasn’t the same nightmare you had at the chalet. You were mumbling in Greek. I didn’t even know you spoke the language. Was Richard Greek?”

  “Not as far as I know, although he did know a lot of people who were. His late wife might’ve been, but I’m not sure. We lived near the Danforth. Since Richard enjoyed Greek cuisine and there are fantastic restaurants all along that street, we often ate there.” The sandwich and bowl of soup were lumps of lead in her stomach. “What did I say?”

  “Do you remember any of the dream?” he asked, his brow furrowed once more.

  She shook her head. “Just bits and pieces that don’t make sense, but I wasn’t dreaming about Richard this time, was I?”

  He reached for her hand. “No, I don’t think you were. Colette understands the language quite well. Loosely translated, you mumbled, ‘The fates must be on our side to deliver such a prize so easily.’ Does that make sense to you?”

  Alexa felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach.

  “Zabat is the one with the dark hair and the mole over the eyebrow, isn’t he?”

  Mike nodded.

  “He spoke to me. Mike, he knew who I was,” she whispered. “I saw recognition on his face . . . How could he think of me as a prize unless he knew Richard was looking for me?”

  Unable to breathe, she stood. “I have to go. I’ve got to get away.”

  “Lex, stop it,” Mike said, getting up and reaching for her hands. “Listen to me. The Greek/Italian crime syndicate is a tight one, and you did say Richard knew people in high and low places. At the time of the shooting, you’d been gone what—two or three days? The chances are, Richard used his baser connections to offer a reward for your safe return. Zabat’s an opportunist. He probably saw dollar signs, but I don’t think you were supposed to get shot. Once you were, Zabat had to take care of you if he wanted his payday. As sick as it sounds, those tapes could’ve been for Richard—proof of life. Knowing what a greedy bastard Zabat is, he might’ve decided to cash in on Richard’s misfortune by holding you for ransom. The C-4 could’ve been Zabat’s way of keeping Richard on the hook—stop paying and she dies.”

  She pulled her trembling hands away and ran her fingers through her hair. “More likely Richard was paying him to keep me there and punish me for running away. If there’s one thing I know about Richard, it’s that he would want to keep me alive if only to torture me for the rest of my days for defying him. He would wait for the right moment to come for me, and then once he had me in the car, he would blow up the place to show me how easily he could’ve killed me if he’d wanted to.” She wrapped her arms around herself and sat once more, her legs unable to hold her upright any longer. “But Richard got on that plane to Johannesburg. He wouldn’t have known I was gone, and why would Zabat want to keep me alive? I can testify against him. That hasn’t changed.”

  “Maybe Richard promised him your silence. And as far as that plane, your fiancé would’ve known you’d escaped if he’d been having you watched, and we both know, based on his possessiveness, that it’s possible. But this is all speculation,” Mike said. “Either way, I’m not going to let anyone get to you.”

  “Okay.” She sipped her tea, trying to see things from Mike’s perspective. “If Zabat was keeping me at the chalet, and he is behind everything, why send you there?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. Assuming Callaghan really is the floater they found, he disappeared sometime Wednesday night, probably after I was rescued from that refrigerated truck and the police raided the warehouse and confiscated all the drugs and stuff. I believe the plan was to pick me off on my way to the chalet. They hadn’t counted on Mother Nature.

  “But why send you to the cabin at all? Why not kill you in Montreal?”

  “They tried, but I survived, and if I’d stayed in the city, I would’ve had protection. Here, I wasn’t 100 percent, and I was alone. Just like wolves, they prefer to go after the weak and injured. Easy pickings had it worked out for them.”

  She shook her head. “I can follow what you’re saying, but it doesn’t make sense. Richard’s a rich, well-respected, prominent Toronto doctor. He may be an ass when it comes to the way he treats women and others, but I just don’t see him taking orders from a Montreal mafia kingpin. That would mean admitting someone could tell him what to do, and he would never accept that.”

  “You’re probably right, but the guy sounds like a head case to me, capable of anything. While we wait for Colette and Andy to get back, I’d like you to draw a sketch of the four men who were in that convenience store that night. We know two of them. Maybe Andy and his connections can identify the other two. We can’t put all our eggs in one ba
sket. I agree that we add Richard to the mix, but there’s still too many unanswered questions. Once the sketch is finished, we can watch television. You’re eight months out of sync.”

  “Did they identify the four victims?” The faceless men occasionally haunted her dreams.

  “No. The bullets fragmented, and at close range, there wasn’t a lot left. Fingerprints didn’t pan out either. My captain said they were still combing through missing persons’ reports.”

  “I see. That’s rather sad. Four men die and no one misses them, no one mourns them. The word visage means ‘face,’ doesn’t it?”

  “It does, why?”

  “Because I heard it that night.”

  “It probably doesn’t mean anything. A half a dozen French insults use the word. Whoever those guys were, they were most likely low-level soldiers who’d broken one rule or another, and their deaths were a message to the others not to do the same. It won’t be easy, but try not to think about them. Eventually we will identify them, you’ll see.”

  Taking a deep, calming breath, Alexa gazed into Mike’s eyes. He was right. If she kept thinking about them and everything else, she’d fall apart, and that was the one thing she was determined not to do. There was no way Zabat and Richard could be working in cahoots, but strangely, the blackmail idea made perverted sense, as did the suggestion Richard would’ve had her watched and offered a reward to the underworld for her safe return.