Kiss Me Deadly

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Kiss Me Deadly Page 27

by Susan Kearney


  Because he didn’t want to lose her.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  AFTER HEARING about Maria, Mandy insisted on calling her mother. Fearing a trace, Zack refused to let her use her cell phone—not even from their moving car. However, he stopped at a truck stop and bought a spare cell phone and minutes. Mandy didn’t know why she was so concerned about Gabby, but she didn’t question her instincts. She needed to know her baby was safe.

  “Hi, Mom. Is everything okay?”

  “We’re both exhausted after the drive on I-4 but settled in. I was just about to put Gabrielle down for her nap. Will you be joining us in Orlando soon?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You avoided me this morning. You do understand that I only want what’s best for you.”

  “Mom. I know. Zack says I can only talk for three minutes.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s just being cautious. I need you to be careful, too. Listen to your bodyguard. Don’t talk to strangers, and if you see anyone suspicious—”

  “I’m not a child—”

  “Call the cops.”

  “What happened?” her mother’s tone sharpened.

  Mandy’s stomach churned at the horror. She could barely force out the words. “Maria and her boyfriend were attacked last night. Her bodyguard was killed. We don’t know if Maria and Ray will live.”

  “Amanda, I want you to come join us right now.”

  “Mom, I’ve got to go. I love you.”

  “Then act like it. Come stay here with us where it’s safe.”

  “Bye, Mom.” Mandy hung up the phone, wondering if she should listen to her mother and feeling guilty for ending the call so abruptly. She hated that her mother would worry. But no one would be safe until she identified Moose and the police locked him away.

  Zack hung up from a second pay-as-you-go phone in the parking lot of the truck stop. “Moose bought a plane ticket for Fort Lauderdale.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the vehicle. “We can hitch a ride on a DEA flight that leaves Tampa International at 2 P.M. If we hurry, we can make it.”

  Mandy rubbed her head with her free hand. Should she go with Zack? Or return to her mother and daughter? If Moose was the killer and he was on his way to Fort Lauderdale, then she didn’t need to worry about Gabby’s safety. And this might be her opportunity to identify him for the authorities.

  Zack drove her to the airport, weaving in and out of traffic. She didn’t dare distract him with conversation. While he didn’t drive more than ten miles an hour above the speed limit, the intensity in his eyes told her he was concentrating, focused on driving.

  They arrived at the airport and ran to catch the plane. If the flight had been a regular one, and they’d had to buy tickets, check luggage, and go through security, they would have missed their flight. But Zack flashed his DEA badge and an official whisked them through a long hallway and directly onto the tarmac.

  Mandy had expected a smaller-than-commercial aircraft, but at the sight of the four seater, she slowed to a halt. It was one thing to accompany Zack in the hopes of spotting Moose, but ever since she’d become a mom, Mandy had curtailed perilous activities—like flying in a plane no bigger than a postage stamp. “That’s our plane?”

  “It’ll be fine. We might even land around the same time as Moose. That’ll give us a chance to tail him.”

  “You go on without me.”

  Zack shook his head. “I won’t leave you alone, and I still need you to identify Moose.”

  “Take his picture on your cell and e-mail it to me.”

  “If I take the time to find you another bodyguard, he might slip away again and go so deep undercover we lose the chance to nab him. Besides, you can recognize him.”

  “Can’t you do it from old pictures?”

  “The only pictures we have of Moose are when he was arrested. He was bald, then, and sporting a thick mustache.”

  Mandy spoke her thoughts out loud. “The man I saw wore dreads and was clean shaven.”

  “The chance of you recognizing him is better than me. Besides, I can’t leave you alone.” Zack’s tone was gentle, almost pleading. “We’ll stay back. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” Zack tugged her toward the plane.

  Mandy didn’t know which scared her the most, the idea of meeting Moose, or getting on that flimsy plane. Her heart thumped in her chest, and her mouth went dry.

  Once Zack opened the door and helped her inside, she realized he would be sitting up front next to the copilot. From his position, Zack wouldn’t even be able to hold her hand to help her get through the flight.

  Stomach knotted, she tugged her seat belt tight.

  Chapter Forty

  SYLVIA DECIDED to take matters into her own hands. If Ben wouldn’t tell her where he was spending his free time, she would follow him. In fifty-two years of marriage, he’d been her rock. So why was he refusing to tell her what he was up to?

  At home, he seemed more tired than usual, but he was still her Ben. He’d made her an omelet with onions and orange peppers this morning and cleaned up the kitchen. Then he’d puttered around the house, fixing several sagging cabinet doors with the new hardware he’d bought last week.

  After lunch, she’d told him she was tired and intended to nap. Ben casually mentioned that he was heading out for a game of basketball. She nodded and proceeded to the bedroom, certain no one would play basketball in the summer midday heat in Tampa. Well, maybe kids might. Certainly grown men had better sense. Suspicions on alert, she waited for him to leave, and the moment his van—which had been outfitted so he could drive it—turned the corner, she grabbed her keys, headed to her car, and followed her husband with her bodyguard beside her.

  Ben always drove five miles an hour below the speed limit, and it took her only a few minutes to catch up. She stayed far enough back to keep her eye on the big blue van, but hopefully not so close Ben would spot her. When he drove right by the park and the empty basketball courts, her stomach lurched.

  Ben had always been steady. He’d never looked at another woman. Hadn’t gone through a mid-life crisis. She recalled with unease that Ben had also disappeared the night of Lisa’s murder. He hadn’t even seemed shocked by the news when they’d heard what had happened to Dana and Mandy or when Sam had been shot. At the time, Sylvia had told herself he was a cop, that he was accustomed to violence, death, and murder.

  But Sylvia had worked with these women. She’d eaten lunch with them. Shared family stories with them. She’d known how much Lisa had wanted to help other kids in the foster care system. She was aware that Maria was excited by the new man in her life. She’d overheard Dana talking to Catherine about Sam’s business problems. These women were her friends. One was dead. All of them were in danger.

  Her reliable husband was lying to her and missing. Sylvia’s worries escalated. What was he doing that he couldn’t share with her? Why was he being so secretive?

  Chapter Forty-One

  ZACK SAT IN the copilot’s seat and awkwardly reached back to pat Mandy’s knee. He could see her over his shoulder, and from her pale face and firmly compressed lips, she clearly didn’t like small planes. Perhaps he should have sat next to her, but he’d wanted to be available to work the plane’s radio if any messages came through.

  At this altitude, his satellite phone might work—or it might not. He’d instructed a colleague at the DEA to try to track Moose after he deplaned in Fort Lauderdale. If Moose ate a meal or rented a car or booked a room in a hotel with his credit card, Zack would know. However, if a friend picked him up or he had his own car parked in the airport garage, Moose could disappear on them again.

  Unfortunately, Zack didn’t have any physical evidence to tie Moose to Lisa’s murder. While Vizzi had shot Sam and attacked Sylvia and Mandy, that didn’t mean Vizzi’s friend was
guilty, too. But it was a big coincidence that the two men had known one another and that Moose matched the description of the man who’d attacked the women at the airport. The forensics team was searching Ray’s playroom for DNA evidence, but until they processed their results and found solid proof to link Moose to the crime scene, Zack and Mandy were on their own.

  Thankfully the sky was clear of common summer thunderstorms, and the flight remained smooth. They were about twenty minutes out of Fort Lauderdale when Zack’s ring tone sounded. Caller ID said it was from the DEA. “What’s up?”

  “Carl Roberts, aka Moose, isn’t staying in Fort Lauderdale. After he got off the plane, he paid cash and booked another flight to Freeport. His new flight arrives in the Bahamas within the next few minutes. So far he hasn’t reserved another connecting flight, a hotel, or a car rental.”

  “Stay on it.”

  Zack turned to his pilot, his throat tight. Moose was flying to Freeport, and his sister was in the Bahamas. Coincidence? He didn’t believe it. This private aircraft was slower than commercial transportation, but it would still fly them to the Bahamas faster than landing, dealing with security, and finding another flight. “Can we reroute to Freeport without stopping to take on fuel?”

  “The Bahamas?” Mandy leaned forward, her eyes unhappy.

  The pilot’s gaze dropped to his fuel gauge. “No problem. Let me inform the tower.”

  Mandy tapped his shoulder. “Zack, I don’t want to leave Gabrielle for too long.”

  “I know.”

  “Suppose Moose lands and gets on another plane? We can’t follow him around the world.”

  “It’s unlikely he’ll catch another flight from Freeport.”

  “Why not?”

  “If he were going to South America or Europe, it’s much easier to connect in Miami. Remember, he has no idea we’re following him. He’s taking a direct route to his destination, not covering his tracks.”

  “He paid cash.”

  “That’s probably habit.”

  “If you say so.” Mandy still didn’t look pleased, especially as she spied the looming Atlantic Ocean on the horizon.

  He squeezed her knee and thought hard. Dana was in the Bahamas. Moose was on the way there. He didn’t believe in coincidences. He’d eventually have to tell Mandy that he suspected Moose was stalking Dana, but for now, she was having enough trouble dealing with the tiny plane. Besides, there was nothing she could do for his sister—except fret. “We’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”

  “And if I said no?”

  “Please, Mandy. The island’s not that big. Give me a day in Freeport. We’ll find him, then you’ll ID him, and we call in the cavalry.”

  “All right, but—”

  Zack’s phone rang again. “Hold that thought.” He put the phone to his ear. “Hi, Mom. We’re following Moose to the Bahamas.”

  “Thank God.” Catherine sounded close to hysteria, and Zack’s stomach clenched. His mother spoke in a rush. “I think your sister’s in big trouble. You’ve got to get to her.”

  “Whoa.” Zack pushed his fear for Dana aside. He had to think clearly, choose the best option, and he couldn’t allow his emotions to interfere. “Slow down. Start at the beginning.”

  “Dana told me she overheard a conversation that Sam had on the phone.”

  “A conversation with who?”

  “She didn’t know. She heard Sam say he’d meet someone at the Bay Star. Dana thought it was a hotel and he was having an affair. But, the Bay Star isn’t a hotel—it’s a boat.”

  “Huh?”

  “The Bay Star is Mitch Anderson’s boat—remember our missing county administrator? Apparently he hasn’t been seen since the very night Dana overheard Sam’s conversation.”

  “So?”

  “Anderson just floated up in Tampa Bay. With a bullet in his brain. His corpse was found on his boat—named the Bay Star.” Zack sucked in his breath, his mind screaming with adrenaline. Damn. Damn. Damn. Dana had heard Sam say he’d be at the Bay Star the night Mitch disappeared? And the guy had just floated up in Tampa Bay? “It gets worse. The medical examiner pinpointed the time of Mitch Anderson’s murder as the same night Dana overheard Sam say he was going to the Bay Star. The night he didn’t come home.”

  Sweat broke out on Zack’s forehead. “It’s still circumstantial evidence. You really think Sam had something to do with Mitch’s murder?”

  “For all I know Mitch killed himself. But I’m not willing to bet Dana’s life on Sam’s innocence. If your sister overheard Sam’s conversation, she could have become a threat to him.”

  “How?”

  “All Dana had to do was go to the police with her suspicions, and Sam’s reputation would be shredded. You know how proud he is.” Catherine paused. “Sam could have hired Moose—”

  “We don’t know that.” Zack was arguing more to draw the suppositions from his mother’s sharp brain than from real disbelief. In his heart, he suspected Catherine was right. That meant Dana was in real danger.

  “It fits,” Catherine’s voice broke. “Sam’s bringing Dana to the Bahamas. Moose is going there.”

  “Moose may be following Sam and Dana.”

  “You aren’t listening,” Catherine’s voice snapped with frustration. “Sam knew the Bay Star would eventually turn up with Mitch’s dead body. No way would Dana miss the news and she’d immediately connect the conversation she’d overheard with Mitch Anderson’s death. Sam knew Dana would be suspicious of him having something to do with Mitch’s murder.”

  “But Sam himself was shot. And Mandy was the first one attacked.”

  “She was Dana’s friend, and Dana might have talked to her about what she’d heard. Besides, Dana couldn’t be first on his list, it would draw too much attention to Sam.”

  Zack wished he could poke holes in his mother’s theory, but she was damn smart. “Where exactly is Dana?”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t tell me where Sam was taking the private jet. She’s in the Bahamas somewhere—”

  “The FAA can track her flight. We’ll find her.” But would it be in time? Zack had never liked Sam, but he’d never thought him capable of murder. He should have known better. Anyone was capable of murder—under enough duress. “I assume you’ve tried to call?”

  “Both Dana and Sam. There’s no answer.”

  “We’re on the way to Freeport now. Try not to panic. I need to get off this phone and make some arrangements.” If Dana and Sam’s phones were turned on, the DEA could pinpoint their location. “I’ll let you know the moment I hear anything. If Dana happens to call—”

  “I’m praying she will, and I’ll let you know.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  SAM DIDN’T WHISK Dana away often, but when he did, they traveled by private jet. After Dana had packed her bags, she’d never touched her luggage again. A bevy of people had carried her suitcase from the limo to the jet, where Sam had arranged for catering to deliver a magnificent meal for them. He’d even had champagne chilling on ice.

  He hadn’t been this considerate in years, and his attention to detail warmed her heart. He’d even remembered that lilies were her favorite flowers, and a luxurious vase of them created a delightful aroma during the flight. After a delicious meal of phyllo triangles filled with spinach and feta cheese, stone crabs dipped in butter with bacon and chive potato pancakes and raspberry mousse aboard the plane, they’d landed in Walker Cay. They didn’t stay on the tiny island long. It was still early afternoon when a captain and crew of a chartered yacht sailed them from the marina to Shell Island.

  In the sloop’s bedroom cabin, Dana changed into a swimsuit, determined to take advantage of the sunshine to work on her tan. On deck, Sam sat beside her in the shade under a Bimini top, close enough to hold her hand.

  “Happy?” Sa
m handed her a strawberry daiquiri.

  She accepted the drink with a grin. “This is my idea of perfection.”

  Sailing. Sun. And Sam all to herself for a few glorious days. What could be better? Dana had no idea what awaited her on Shell Island but was perfectly willing to leave the arrangements in Sam’s capable hands. She sipped her drink and then set it aside. Between the deep turquoise waters, the dolphins playing off their bow wave, the soft flap of the sails in the wind, and the gentle rocking of the boat as they sliced through the water, Dana’s eyelids grew heavy. It had been too long since she’d felt safe enough to fall into a deep relaxing sleep.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  SYLVIA FOLLOWED ben onto the interstate. He drove north, exited on Fowler Avenue and headed toward the University of South Florida, an interesting area of shopping centers, suburbia, and industrial properties. The traffic in this part of the county was bumper-to-bumper with frequent stops at traffic lights.

  Where was her husband going?

  He drove in the slow lane and signaled a turn with his right blinker into what appeared to be an older shopping center’s entrance. But the pavement curved behind the stores and led to a warehouse. There were no signs on the modest gray metal building to indicate what might be inside.

  She waited around the corner for Ben to lower his wheelchair ramp. He rolled from his van to the building and stopped at the third door from the end. He didn’t knock, but opened the door and entered as if he’d been there many times before.

  Sylvia waited ten minutes, curious to see if he’d come back out. He didn’t.

  She parked, then walked to the warehouse with her bodyguard and hesitated. It was very likely Ben would be on the other side of that door. He’d learn that she’d followed him, that she didn’t trust him. Once she stepped across the threshold, there could be no going back.

 

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