The Deadly Art of Deception

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The Deadly Art of Deception Page 8

by Linda Crowder


  I walked fast, keeping an eye out for strange men in black raincoats this time, but the street was empty. I reached my door and wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried when I found it locked. I fumbled with the key, my hands too cold at first to work the lock. When I finally got it open, I flipped the light switch, grateful for what little warmth sunk down to the entry from the pellet stove above. Even so, the entry felt like a sauna compared to outside.

  “Taylor?” The echo may have been my imagination, but it wasn’t my imagination that no one answered. I ran up the steps and searched the apartment. Two minutes later I was headed back to Mel’s. She stopped pouring coffee and stared at me. I hurried past her into the kitchen.

  Mel handed the pot to her customer and followed me. “I take it she’s not there,” she said as soon as we hit the kitchen.

  I shook my head. “Maybe she went somewhere with Frank.”

  “Why Frank?” asked Bent.

  We ignored him. “Was it locked when you got there?” asked Mel, and I nodded. “Why wouldn’t she just come get the key?”

  “I don’t know, but she’s not at the apartment. Where else could she have gone?”

  “Why would she be with Frank?” We still didn’t answer Bent’s question.

  “Do you have a cell phone number for him?” I asked, but Mel shook her head. “Maybe I should call Dan.”

  “Why Dan? Did Frank kidnap her?”

  I went to the phone while Mel stared at Bent. “Why would Frank kidnap Taylor?”

  “That’s what I’m asking you.”

  “Nobody kidnapped anybody,” I said, picking up the receiver.

  Mel brought Bent up to speed while I counted the rings on Dan’s phone. Who sets their phone to ring seven times before it goes to voice mail? I left a message and turned to look at my sister, who was starting to put away food for the night.

  “You think he’s asleep?” I looked up at the clock. It was high time I was sleeping. I didn’t know how Mel and Bent managed to survive on six hours of sleep every day all season long. I’d be dragging at the gallery tomorrow if I didn’t get to bed soon.

  “Who, Dan? Maybe.”

  “What time was he in tonight?”

  “He wasn’t. I haven’t seen him since lunch, and he was late for that. Sounded like he was coming down with something. Maybe he went home early.”

  “He stopped by the gallery as I was closing.”

  “What was he doing there?” We heard the front door open, and Bent went to see if the last customer had left.

  “Asking about Mr. Shoes and the guy who followed Tay home. He said you told him about them.”

  “I asked what he was gonna do about it. Obviously you hadn’t told him, so I did.”

  Bent returned with Dan behind him. “Nobody’s home at Frank’s,” Bent reported. “Coffee, Dan?”

  “Hoping not to be awake that long.” Dan looked at me. “You sure she’s not at your place? In the gallery maybe?”

  “Tay doesn’t have a key to the gallery either.”

  “Well, I’ll check Frank’s boat, but if it’s rockin,’ I ain’t knockin.’” He was the only one who laughed.

  “Tay barely knows Frank.”

  “Don’t just stand there making stupid jokes. Go. Find them.” Mel’s voice had the high-pitched quality it got when she was nervous or scared.

  “It’s okay, baby,” said Bent, squeezing her hands until she nodded. “C’mon, Dan, we’ll check Frank’s boat, but if they aren’t there, I for one am going to bed.”

  “Bentley Milford Andrews!” Mel only dragged Bent’s full name out on special occasions and none of them good. Even when they got married, Bent made sure the minister used his nickname. Given his full name, I hadn’t blamed him. “They may be out there hurt somewhere, and you stand here laughing!” She started to cry.

  Bent put his arms around her and whispered something I couldn’t hear. Mel’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and the tears stopped. He gave her a kiss that was a little bit longer than it needed to be while Dan shifted his feet back and forth and stared up at the ceiling. “Okay, let’s get moving,” he said, pulling away from her.

  I said good-bye to Mel, who was looking a little calmer, and followed the men out the back door. At least it had stopped raining. We covered the distance in about half the time I normally took and I wondered if Dan and Bent were more concerned than they let on. There were no lights on at the gallery, and Dan pulled on the door to make sure it was securely locked, then he knocked, and we waited long enough he was sure nobody was coming.

  He held out his hand, and I gave him my keys. We circled around to the side of the building, and Dan reached for the door that led to my apartment. It opened easily. “I thought you said you locked your door.”

  “I thought I did. I know it was locked when I came home. I may have forgotten when I left.”

  Dan motioned for Bent and me to take a step back. He inched the door open and disappeared inside. Bent looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, and stepped into the entry. Not willing to stand outside in the cold by myself, I joined him and closed the door behind me. We stood there, staring up the darkened stairway, lit only by the bobbing light of Dan’s flashlight above us. We heard him call for Taylor, his footsteps trailing away from us as I assumed he checked the living room and bedroom.

  His head appeared at the top of the stairs. “Nobody here.”

  I turned on the lights, and Dan started back down, switching off his flashlight. “I’m sorry, Dan. I must have left it open after all.”

  “At least we know she didn’t come back here. Let’s go check the boat, Bent.”

  “What if she’s not there?” I asked.

  “If they aren’t there, I’m going home and going to bed. They’re adults, Cara. They’re not even legally missing until they’ve been gone forty-eight hours. Trust me, they’ll turn up by morning.”

  “Should I leave the door unlocked in case Tay comes back?”

  I watched Dan exchange looks with Bent before he answered. “I don’t think she’ll come back this late.”

  He headed outside, and Bent gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Never hurts to have your gun handy.”

  I wouldn’t let myself lock the door behind them. I was not going to let myself live in fear. I shivered in a cold that was more emotional than physical and forced myself up the stairs. I switched off the light and let my eyes adjust to the moonlight. I walked to the window and looked down at the street. I watched while Dan and Bent walked along the boardwalk and disappeared down the steps leading to the pier. Minutes ticked by, I’m not sure how many, before the shapes reappeared. They turned toward the far end of the road, moving slowly until they were swallowed up in the darkness.

  Turning to go to bed, my eyes were drawn to the awning in front of city hall. There was movement, and my heart leaped to my throat when I saw it. Two shoes, attached to two legs, the rest hidden in the shadows. I reeled backward as if I’d been bitten by a snake. I grabbed my cell phone and punched in the number.

  “He’s out there!” I whispered into the phone.

  “Who’s out where? Cara? Where are you?”

  “I’m here. In the apartment. Dan, he’s down there right now. The guy I told you about.”

  “Stay where you are,” Dan’s voice snapped with authority. “Stay away from the windows, and don’t open the door until I get there.”

  Remembering I hadn’t locked the door, I stumbled down the stairs, tripping over my feet in the dark but managing to keep moving. I threw myself at the door and shoved the dead bolt, relaxing only when I heard it click. I leaned against the door, deliberately slowing my rapid, shallow breaths, willing myself to calm down. Once my heart had stopped drumming out every other sound, I heard a noise. Surely Dan couldn’t have made it back so quickly, but I wasn’t the best judge of time even when I wasn’t scared.

  I turned to unlock the door then froze as I heard, more than saw, the doorknob rattle. I backed away, an icy hand grippin
g my chest that had nothing to do with the cold in the entryway. The knob rattled again, and I heard something thud softly against the door. Stealth mode forgotten, I ran up the stairs in a panic. I ran straight to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Why hadn’t Dad and I thought to put a lock on the bedroom door? With strength I didn’t know I had, I shoved my dresser over to block the door.

  I dug through my bedside table until my hand struck metal in the darkness. I was shaking fiercely as I struggled to load my handgun and kept dropping bullets onto the floor. Calm down! I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. My hands weren’t exactly steady when I opened them again, but at least more bullets went into the chamber than onto the floor. I flipped on the safety and sat on the edge of the bed, straining to hear, but picking up nothing but the rush of blood in my ears.

  Then I heard music. Where was it coming from? I looked around the room, trying to place the familiar tune, then realized it was coming from my pocket. I forced myself to start breathing again and pulled out my cell phone. It was Dan.

  “I’m outside.”

  “Did you catch him?”

  “Nobody’s here, Cara.”

  “But I saw him! And when I went down to lock the door, there was somebody out there. I heard him try to open the door, and when he couldn’t, he tried to force it open. Thank God we built that door to withstand a bear.”

  There was silence for a moment, and I heard him talking to someone. “There’s nobody here now. Bent says come on down and you can stay with them tonight.”

  I’d had more than my share of scares for one night, so I grabbed a change of clothes, shoved my dresser out of the way, and went downstairs. Unlocking the door, I opened it to find Bent waiting on the landing. “Where’s Dan?”

  “You ready? Be sure you lock up this time.”

  I pulled the door shut, and Bent tested it. He put his arm around my shoulder and hustled me to the wooden sidewalk. It wasn’t until we were inside the warm kitchen, door securely locked behind us, that he told me where Dan had gone. “No sign of your Mr. Shoes, Cara, but we did find footprints leading to your door, then off toward the back of the building.”

  “Not Tay’s?” I had a sick feeling in my stomach and pushed away the cocoa Mel had made for me.

  Bent shook his head. “Too big.”

  “Oh, Cara.” Mel’s eyes were wide and her face pale.

  Bent wrapped his arms around her, rocking her back and forth, his voice low and steady. “It’s okay. Cara can stay with us till the season’s over, then she’ll be home with your folks.”

  Watching them, it hit me. How could I have missed the signs? Mel’s eyes were closed, her head resting on Bent’s chest, her body leaning against his. Bent saw the question in my eyes and smiled. I did some quick math and came up with February. A Valentine’s baby sounded just about perfect.

  Chapter 6

  The sound of the shower woke me up. I lay in my bed, warm under a down comforter, listening to the water and wondering why Taylor was up so early. I persuaded one eye to open and looked around the dark bedroom. Something wasn’t right. Either my bed was in the wrong spot, or the window was on the wrong side of the room. I succeeded in getting my other eye open and remembered I wasn’t in my apartment at all.

  I was tempted to pull the comforter over my head and stay in Mel’s guest room all morning, but I knew I couldn’t do that. I had a business to run, and there would be time to sleep late when the season ended. The last week of the season is always great for sales because cruisers know shop owners would rather sell than store their inventory. I don’t mark down my prices like other merchants since I ship unsold work back to the artist when the season ends, but somehow the end of the season had always brought me better than average sales just the same.

  In one motion, I threw off the comforter and swung my legs over the side of the bed, letting the shock of the cold air wake me up. Everyone has a theory whether it’s better to ease out of bed on cold mornings or just jump right out and let the cold hit you all at once. I’d heard enough of the debates helping Mel out the first year they opened the restaurant to know that nobody had a good answer. If I could afford it, I’d just keep my house warm enough that there wasn’t any cold to adjust to, but Alaskan heating bills were enough to give you a heart attack already. No need to compound the damage by keeping the house as warm overnight as you do during the day.

  It was still dark, and it would stay dark for another few hours. The closer we got to winter, the longer the darkness would last and the more fleeting the light would become. Living in twilight is something you adjust to, or you don’t. It’s probably harder on outsiders than adjusting to the cold. Even in a town full of hermits, we’re all just a little more so in the wintertime.

  Freshly showered and dressed, hair combed and teeth brushed, I made my way down to the kitchen where Mel was pulling out ingredients for today’s breakfast. She’d had enough time to get a pot of coffee going while I was in the shower, and the aroma was heavenly. I poured myself a mug and leaned against the counter, watching her graceful movements and letting the caffeine burn off the rest of the fog in my brain. “When were you going to tell me?”

  Mel’s face flushed, but she continued working. “When the season ended.”

  “You’re gonna be a great mom.”

  Mel put down the spoon she’d been using. Tears threatened, but she blinked them away. “I can’t even imagine how I’m going to manage next season.”

  “Bring the baby down and turn her loose in the dining room.”

  Mel laughed and wiped her eyes, getting flour on her cheek. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll work.”

  “You wait and see. The whole town will adopt this baby. We’re not exactly overrun with babies around here. Besides, I am gonna be an amazing aunt.”

  “You’d better be.”

  “Are you planning to have the baby at home or go to Juneau?” Coho Bay doesn’t have a doctor even during the season. We have a shiny new clinic, built with cruise ship taxes, but the city fathers have yet to attract a doctor to staff it.

  “Home if we can.” Mel poured batter into muffin tins as she talked. “Gabby says so far, so good.”

  Gabby Lighthorse had been delivering babies around Coho Bay for almost twenty years. She’d trained with the midwife who’d delivered me when I was born. She was certified by the state, but that’s not why women trusted Gabby. She cared deeply about every mother and every child she helped usher into the world. Most women could safely deliver at home, but Gabby made sure that if anything could complicate a delivery, those moms went to Juneau where they could be cared for by an OB-GYN and deliver in a hospital.

  “Is this why you’ve been after me to stay in town this winter?” I finished my coffee and put the mug in the dishwasher, then ran hot water into the sink.

  “I always want you to stay in town, Cara.”

  “But with the baby coming...”

  “All right, fine. With the baby coming, I really want to have you nearby. Happy now? I want Mom and Dad to stay too. I’m going to ask when they get back.”

  “You won’t have to ask Mom. She’s not gonna let herself be five miles away when her first grandbaby is born. She’ll probably send Dad home to pack and move right in as soon as you tell her the news. Don’t envy you having her that nearby.”

  Mel stopped what she was doing and stared at me. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Tell you what I’ll do. They can have my apartment, and I’ll stay in the guest room. Won’t be much sleeping in that room once the baby gets there, but I’ll make it work.”

  “The baby can sleep in our room.”

  “So what are we looking at, five months?”

  “The time is going to fly by.” Mel slid the muffin tins into the oven. “It’s sweet of you to offer, but if I know our mother, she won’t go for being all the way down at your place.”

  “It’s two blocks away.”

  “Two blocks too far. You’ll see. I don’t like the idea
of you being alone though. What about Taylor? Is she determined to move out to the island, or could we get her to stay with you?”

  Elbow-deep in dishwater, last night’s fear swept over me. My knees buckled, and I found myself sitting on the floor, dripping suds all over the legs of my jeans. Mel rushed over and crouched beside me. The look on my face must have really been something because she looked up at the ceiling and yelled, “Bent, get down here!”

  He arrived moments later, jeans on but no shirt, his face covered in shaving cream. He slid onto the floor beside us, his eyes scanning Mel for injury or distress. “Baby, what is it?” he asked, his voice sounding about three pitches higher than normal. “What happened?”

  I shook myself back into the present. “I’m fine. She’s fine. It’s okay, really.”

  Mel grabbed one elbow, Bent took the other, and together they pulled me to my feet. “Cara, are you all right?” asked Mel. Her breath was coming fast, and her face was pale.

  “I’m fine. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me, but I’m fine now, really. Please don’t worry, Mel.” She relaxed her iron grip on my arm, and color began to return to her cheeks.

  “What happened?” asked Bent. The crisis past, his disheveled appearance must have struck Mel as funny because she started to giggle. She tried several times to stop, but she kept on giggling, and Bent’s efforts to sooth her only made it worse. She sat down on one of the stools and struggled to regain her composure.

  “I’m sorry, honey. Honestly, I’m okay.” She batted him away. “Don’t fuss.”

  “You’re the one who yelled for me to get down here. You scared the crap outta me. Can somebody tell me what’s wrong?”

  “It’s my fault,” I said. “I was so excited about the baby that I wasn’t thinking about last night, and then Mel mentioned Taylor and all of a sudden—Wham!”

  “Bent, honey, finish getting ready. I’ll fill you in later.” Shaving cream dripped from his face and splatted onto his chest. I bit my lip to keep from laughing because I knew it would set Mel off again. Bent looked at me, and I had to look away. I heard him sigh and retreat up the stairs.

 

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