SEAS THE DAY

by Maggie Toussaint

  Lance called at noon while I was packing the van for the baby shower. “River, we need to talk. It’s about the case.”

  “Did you find Chili?” I asked, knowing the feds were probably listening to every word. “Is he okay?”

  “Not on the phone. We need to talk in person.”

  “You sound different,” I said, meaning it. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” he snapped. “Meet at the same place as before. Twenty minutes.”

  I went from being elated that I’d guessed right about the location to realizing that wasn’t enough time to get everyone in place, even though the feds were already out there setting up. Luckily I had a built-in excuse. “Can’t. I’ve got an event at two. It will have to be after the event. Four thirty or five-ish.”

  “This is important. Can’t you take a few minutes and come right now?”

  “No, I can’t. My catering reputation is on the line with every job. If you want to meet before then, come over here now or sneak into the back of the Parish Hall later.”

  He swore. “Call me when you’re cleaning up. I’ll tell you where, and River?”

  “What?”

  “Lose the boyfriend.”

  “Forget it. Pete’s coming with me.”

  “No,” he said tersely. “This is a private conversation.”

  I gripped the phone tighter. I’d also been instructed to keep him on the line as long as possible. “Lance, is something wrong?”

  “Yes. Something is very wrong.”

  The call ended. I glanced over at Pete. “The feds are right. He’s rattled.”

  “He should be. The feds are closing in. No way will he come out of this without a truckload of dirt on him.”

  I placed tubs from the refrigerator on the cart, along with boxes of glass vases for the unicorn pretzels. “My catering job bought the feds all day to get set up at the Christmas Tree farm.”

  Pete added another tub on the cart. “Hightower texted this morning that everything is ready. They mounted a miniature video camera on the little office shack out there. Make sure Hamlyn talks to you in the same place again.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  “I’ll be hiding in the trees with the feds. I don’t trust Hamlyn not to do something stupid.”

  “Let’s hope he’s on his best behavior.”

  “He better be.”

  For all my tough talk earlier, I was a nervous wreck by four thirty as I turned into the Christmas tree farm lane. Lance’s police SUV was parked in the same spot. Not wanting to buck tradition, I parked in the same place as last time too and stood in front of my van.

  Lance strode my way with prowling steps, his hands fisted at his sides. “What did he say?”

  “Who?” I asked, doing my best to stay calm. I had trusted this man, but those dock surveillance photos suggested I shouldn’t. It was up to me to discover his true agenda.

  “Kale Bolz,” Lance snarled. “My fed contact told me you spoke to him yesterday.”

  “Calm down. He gave me a message for his brother, in case I ever see Chili again. That’s why I was so excited that you called.” I managed a tight smile. “I hope you have good news about Chili.”

  “Forget him. That man is a ghost.”

  My heart stuttered as I searched his face, emotions on my sleeve. “He’s dead?”

  “Might as well be. There’s no trace of him.”

  I let out a shaky breath. “Oh. Figure of speech, then. I’m disappointed. I’d hoped this would be over, that our lives could go back to normal.”

  Lance’s face glowed redder than usual. “What else did Kale tell you?”

  “Not much. The message for his brother. He’s trying to make a deal with the feds. That was it.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “Information for sentencing help, as I understand it.”

  “Tell me.”

  “He didn’t share his information with me. It must be related to his disappearance and missing money keeps coming up.”

  “A whole lot of missing money. Who’s his handler?”

  The still air blanketed me with evergreen scent, making it hard to breathe. “I don’t understand.”

  “Handler, as in who is working him to get the information.”

  “I’m not sure. I spoke with agents Hightower and Greene afterward.”

  He stepped closer, looming over me, his aftershave blocking the evergreen scent. “What’d they want?”

  “You’re making me nervous. Calm down. I’ll tell you what I know, but it isn’t much. They asked if Kale was a liar. I told them he wasn’t.”

  Lance swore and stabbed his fingers through his hair. Because my senses were on hyperalert, I noticed two things. His manicured fingernails were long for a guy. There were also scrapes on his knuckles.

  “This is not good,” Lance said.

  His battered hand. Why hadn’t I noticed that before? He wore gloves a lot, and when he didn’t he kept his hands in his pockets or out of sight. His knuckles looked like Jimmy Brown’s a few days after he got into a fight on the school bus.

  Lance had hit something. Or someone. My breath hitched. Estelle. He’d beat Estelle. Was his hand the proof we needed that he was a killer?

  “It’s good for Kale,” I said, amazed at how calm I sounded. “He made mistakes, and now he can minimize the penalties for his problems.”

  “He’s gonna ruin everything.” Lance turned from me and strode a few steps away. Then he circled back. “Word for word, what message did he have for Chili?”

  “It was a private message,” I said, fingernails biting into my palms.

  “Tell. Me. Or I’ll run you in for withholding evidence.”

  “You’re forcing me to betray a confidence? I thought you wanted to be my friend.”

  “My job’s on the line. What did he say?”

  “They don’t make sense to me.” I repeated the lines rotely, feeling like a weasel for caving, but the feds already knew what Kale said. “Do you know what they mean?”

  “They spell trouble.”

  “You understand it?”

  “Better than you think.” He glanced around the clearing again and then back at the hut. His gaze narrowed. “Damn it.”

  Before I could utter another word, he yanked me to his chest. In the flurry of movement, I saw scrapes on the knuckles on his other hand. A sudden realization sickened me. The feds were right and so was Pete. Lance beat Estelle to death and nearly killed Chili with his fists.

  “I’ll kill her,” Lance shouted. “Come out right now.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “What are you doing, Lance?” I struggled against his tight hold on me. “This isn’t funny.”

  “Not meant to be funny. You’re my hostage. The feds put you up to this, didn’t they?”

  “You’re not making sense. You called this meeting and determined the place. Put the gun away. You’re scaring me.”

  The thumping of my heart nearly deafened me. I had to keep him talking. The feds needed a confession from Lance. Even though I was scared, I had to hold it together to help Chili and Kale.

  “Either you’ve lost your mind or you killed Estelle and hurt Chili,” I said, pushing against his arm to no avail. “Let me go.”

  He loosened his grip on me but didn’t let me go. “I can’t. You know too much.”

  “I knew nothing until you grabbed me just now. I trusted you.”

  “You’re playing a dangerous game. I tried to warn you off, twice, with the kitchen fire and the home invasion, but you don’t give up.” He took a deep breath and groaned. “God, why do you have to smell like cookies?”

  I grimaced at the knowledge he’d done those things to me. “I baked cookies this morning for the baby shower. Let me go. I’ve done nothing to hurt you, and I told you every
thing I know.”

  “They suspect me don’t they?” His hot breath prickled my neck.

  My brain froze. That’s the only reason I could think of for not spinning some tale. I couldn’t tell him the feds were hiding in the woods or he’d shoot me. Conversely, I couldn’t lie without him hearing it in my voice.

  “Never mind, your silence speaks volumes. What do they have on me?” He jerked my arm.

  I bit my lip against the rising fear. If I could just get him talking. “Stop. That hurts. The feds suspect everyone. Even me. They don’t know any of us. They don’t trust Kale.”

  “He fingered me?”

  “He said a crooked cop was involved. I thought that was a lie. I told myself it wasn’t you because I trusted you. And yet here we stand with you calling me a hostage. Turns out you’re the liar.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wanted you for myself, but you weren’t interested.”

  I glared at him. “I have a boyfriend. I told you that from the beginning of our acquaintance. Look, whatever you’ve done, you can come clean and start over.”

  “Doesn’t work that way for cops. I’m screwed. Those feds are using you. Are you wearing a wire? Is that how they plan to take me down?”

  “No wire,” I said.

  “Prove it. Take off your shirt.”

  Outrage simmered in my blood. “I will not take off my shirt.”

  He swore again and patted me down, front and back. He also checked out my midriff and looked down my top. “Nice tatas. You’re right. No wire.”

  “Told you.”

  “I don’t get it,” he said. “Why’d you come out here?”

  I leaned against my van because my knees threatened to buckle. “You asked me to come. You set the location. You said it was about the case. I came because I care about Chili. What’s the deal, Lance? What are you and the Bolzes into?”

  He relaxed and leaned beside me. “I need that money. The money will make everything right.”

  “I don’t have any money. I told you that already. What is this truly about, Lance? How can I help you?”

  “No one can help, unless they have the money. Shell Island was supposed to be an easy gig. We bought the marina, kept most of the boating traffic away, and moved money here for cleaning and then offshore.”

  “Who’s we?”

  He didn’t answer. “If you’re the dirty cop Kale referred to, I know you have to kill me. Satisfy my curiosity. Who do you work for? Are you in the mob?”

  “I don’t want to kill you, but it has to be done. My wife and kids depend upon me doing my job.”

  “You’re married?”

  He winced, then gave a terse nod. “Sixteen years. Four kids.”

  “You tried to date me.”

  “As a cover but I like you more than I should.”

  This kept getting better and better. My opinion of him kept sinking. “Would you have slept with me as a cover?”

  “Yeah, so what?”

  “You aren’t the man of honor I believed you were. Unless you were coerced. Are they holding your family hostage?”

  “My brother-in-law runs the cartel. I literally married the mob. Thought I knew what I was doing. Big mistake.”

  “Love screws with your head.”

  “Love and power. Ultimately it became about power as my wife advanced in the ranks. Unless I do what they say, I’ll never see my kids again. As it is, I’m lucky to see them twice a year.”

  “Killing people, destroying families, that’s wrong.”

  “You’re a welcome breath of fresh air. I wish I’d met you before Isabella. For you, River, I would’ve been a good man. For Isabella, I’m hired muscle and an occasional toss in the hay when she tires of her regular playmates.”

  “What’s Isabella’s maiden name?”

  “Ferarrelli. It still is. She refused to take my last name when we married. That should’ve been an omen of things to come.”

  “You live in Mexico?”

  “I live wherever they tell me to live. None of that matters now. Without that missing money, I’m a dead man. This organization thrives on getting the job done.”

  “Are you really a cop?”

  Lance shrugged. “I’m wearing the uniform and carrying a gun. The Ferarrelli machine is good at constructing solid backgrounds. Even the feds believed it.”

  “Have you solved any cases since you’ve been here?” I asked.

  “Yes, of course. Nearly a hundred, if you must know. I really got into my role.”

  “Did you look for Chili?”

  His silence was damning. Realization dawned with icy certainty. He never officially looked for Chili. He didn’t investigate Estelle’s death either.

  A wave of nausea and dizziness hit, along with total revulsion for Lance Hamlyn.

  He gave me an appraising look, and I feared it was the end of me. Information, my brain reminded me. This was about gathering information. “How’d the laundry operation work?”

  “Like a charm, for a while at least. I left five-gallon buckets of drug money in Chili’s boat. He and Kale hauled the money to Estelle who washed everything through her dry-cleaning business and deposited the cash in our accounts. In late fall, we received a double batch of money. I moved the money to a new drop spot, but the Bolzes claimed they never saw it.”

  “Sounds like quite a system. How long did it run?”

  “They had it up and running before I arrived eight months ago.”

  An uneasy silence settled around us. I couldn’t take it. I had to say something, anything to stay alive. “What happens now?”

  “Now I shoot you and leave your body in a creek full of alligators.”

  His icy tone was as cold as his eyes. “You don’t have to do that. You can choose to be a better man.”

  “Not happening. You never should’ve agreed to help Estelle Bolz. Her dirt rubbed off on you. There’s a different set of rules for dirty people.”

  I couldn’t wrap my head around the choices Estelle had made. “What rule is that?”

  “He who has the biggest gun makes all the rules.”

  “I don’t want to die.”

  “End of the road. Any last words?”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  “Hands in the air, Deputy Hamlyn,” Special Agent Hightower yelled from the tree line. “FBI. We have you surrounded.”

  Lance pivoted to the sound of the voice, and I used that moment of distraction to slip around the side of the van, and then raced behind the shack. With every step I wondered if I’d catch a bullet in the back.

  “No way,” Lance said. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re messing with the wrong guy.” He must’ve noticed my disappearance. “River!” he shouted.

  I darted into the trees behind the shack. Pete caught me by the third tree. I lunged into his arms, sobbing and shaking and relieved I’d survived.

  “You did good, River,” Pete said over and over again until I calmed.

  I wiped my wet cheeks with the back of my hand. “He was about to kill me.”

  “But he didn’t. You got what the feds needed. Hamlyn is in federal custody now. He won’t see the light of day for a very long time.”

  I eased into the comfort he offered, absorbing his strength and tenderness.

  It didn’t take long for the feds to place Lance in a black SUV and drive away. We watched the team remove the hidden cameras. Soon they departed too. I thought about driving Pete and me home, but my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

  The differences between Pete and Lance were staggering. Pete had high moral character, integrity, ethics, compassion, and commitment. He followed through on what he said he’d do. Lance, well, Lance was the opposite of all that. Truth rang in his voice when he said if he’d met me before his wife he’d have been a good man. It da
wned on me how lucky I was that I hadn’t had to make bad choices in order to survive.

  “What’re you thinking?” Pete asked, gripping my hand.

  “Everything and nothing. About how we got to where we’re standing.”

  “We drove here.”

  I shot him a wry smile. “Deeper than that. We’re standing on top of the decisions we made. Each choice had a consequence and pointed us in this direction. It’s all connected.”

  “Don’t go getting soft over Lance. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”

  “I’m thrilled he didn’t shoot me. I just wondered what I would do if life dealt me a bad hand.”

  “One of the main differences between your life and Lance’s is that you kept going when speedbumps came your way. You always found a way to support your family. You moved in with your mother when she was ill, and you didn’t complain about it or worry about making ends meet. You went out and did what you needed to do.”

  “Of course I did.”

  “Lance didn’t do that. He took shortcuts, he was lazy, and he fell in with the wrong crowd. He gambled with his fate. Now he pays for those choices.”

  “He killed Estelle. Once I got a good look at his hands today, I knew what’d happened. He threatened Kale, who then faked his death. He beat Chili to within an inch of his life too. Then he turned his fists on a defenseless older woman. He’s a monster in my book.”

  “The feds agree with you.”

  “But will they cut a deal with him to get someone higher up on the drug food chain?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “That’d be wrong. Estelle’s life meant something. He should pay for his actions.”

  “It’s out of our hands. At least we know the truth, and there’s no way Lance will return to the police force. The citizens of Riceland County won’t feel his fists ever again.”

  I shuddered, but at least this time I was successful in grabbing my keys out of my pocket.

  Pete reached for the keys. “I’ll drive. Your hands are shaking worse than mine.”

  “I’m happy to let you drive, but why are you shaking?”

  He drew me into an embrace. “You’re kidding, right? The woman I love with all my heart met with a stone-cold killer. The feds had to restrain me. I tried to charge headlong into this clearing and tackle him when he grabbed your arm.”