by Blake Pierce
Bill fell silent for a moment.
“Is there a place for the FBI jet to land in that area?” he asked.
“Let me check,” Riley said. She poked her head back in the door and asked Jake, “Has the Everglades got an airport?”
Still talking to Chief Strait, Jake nodded.
“Yes,” Riley told Bill.
“Great. I’ll meet you there.”
She and Bill ended the call. Riley stood on the balcony for a moment, staring out over Miami and collecting her thoughts. Picking up Bill would add a little time to the trip, but she was sure that she could use his help.
Is this really happening? she asked herself. Are we really closing in on Rhodes?
A lot of risk and effort were going to go into the coming raid. Riley knew she’d better be right.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Riley’s nerves grew ever more taut as the large SUV took her deep into the Everglades. She was sure that something big was about to happen. She hoped Orin Rhodes’ reign of terror would soon be over.
She was riding with Jake Crivaro and several rangers and cops, all of them wearing Kevlar vests. Chief Ranger Wilbur Strait was driving. Another SUV right behind them carried more well-equipped cops and rangers.
The road followed a waterway through low scrubby jungle. A white pelican took flight up ahead, and Riley realized that under other circumstances, she’d consider the trip quite scenic. She recognized bamboo growing along the water, but wasn’t sure about the rest of the tangled thicket. Then, in the late afternoon light she spotted the ominous eyes of alligators watching the passing vehicles from the waterway. She could understand how a solitary hiker might disappear out here.
The two vehicles pulled up to the airport just as the FBI jet taxied to a stop. The side door of the plane opened and Bill came trotting down the steps onto the steaming hot tarmac. He had his own Kevlar vest slung over his shoulder.
Riley rushed toward him.
“Glad you could make it,” she said.
Bill grinned at her and patted her on the shoulder.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said.
They climbed into the SUV. As Chief Strait put the vehicle into gear and drove, Riley hastily introduced Jake to Bill. The two men had heard about each other from Riley, but had never actually met. She thought they looked each other over approvingly.
Riley felt good about having both Jake and Bill by her side. They were the two most important people she’d ever worked with in her career. And now here the three of them were, working together. It felt right.
While Bill was putting on his vest, Riley got out the picture of the house they were going to. He took the photo and pulled out his flashlight to study it.
“Remember the note that someone sent to Rhodes in Philadelphia?” she said.
“You think this is the house?”
“It could be. I found that in the parking lot in Jacksonville. And in South Carolina he had been looking at information on the Everglades.
Bill nodded slowly. “It sure sounds like we’ve got him,” he finally said.
“I hope so,” Riley said.
After a few minutes, Chief Strait said, “It’s coming right up.”
Strait soon pulled the vehicle to a stop at a private side road that had been chained off and fastened with a lock. He got out of the car and cut the chain with a bolt cutter. Then he got back in the car and drove. The SUV rocked and lurched along an overgrown dirt road.
“It doesn’t look like anybody has driven this way in a long while,” Riley said.
“A lot of folks get around out here by airboat instead of cars,” Chief Strait said.
Finally the SUV came within sight of the mansion. Chief Strait stopped the vehicle and cut off the headlights. The other SUV stopped right behind him. The whole improvised ten-member team climbed out.
It was dusk now. She could barely see the large dark snake that slithered across the path in front of them.
Chief Strait led the way, followed by Bill, Riley, and Jake, and then by the others. As they silently approached the mansion, Riley saw that it lay next to a waterway. Rhodes could indeed have come here by airboat. Perhaps one was hidden somewhere in the thick vegetation.
Riley was sweating now. She realized that it was more from nerves than from the cooling tropical temperature. Her flashlight caught a motion at the water’s edge and revealed alligators that had been disturbed at the strangers’ approach. One opened its wide toothy mouth, and then they all slowly slid into the water.
Chief Strait gathered his team members together, and they broke apart and headed to prearranged positions around the house. Even in the near darkness she could see that it was definitely the mansion she’d seen in the photo—red brick and surrounded by a porch with white columns. It looked larger and more decrepit than it had in the picture, a hollowed-out ruin with many of its huge windows broken.
With its haunted aura, the place gripped Riley’s imagination. How long had it been since it had been filled with family members and well-dressed gangsters? How many criminal plans had been laid here? How many murders had been committed on these very premises?
Orin Rhodes must feel perfectly at home, Riley thought.
She could see no lights on inside the building now. That didn’t mean he wasn’t hiding somewhere inside.
Strait handed Riley a bullhorn. She lifted it and called out, “Orin Rhodes, this is Special Agent Riley Paige, FBI. We’ve got the house surrounded. Come out through the front door with your hands as high as you can get them.”
Her command echoed through the vacant house and the surrounding forest. No reply came. Riley wasn’t surprised. But she had no idea what to expect next. Was Orin Rhodes alone in there, or did he have accomplices waiting in ambush? Might Shane Hatcher be in there as well?
Riley called out again, “I repeat. Come out with your hands up.”
Again came no reply. Riley, Bill, and Chief Strait exchanged looks and drew their weapons. The three of them had planned ahead of time to be the ones to enter the mansion if necessary. The other members of the team would wait outside to prevent anyone from escaping. But as the three started walking toward the broad porch, Jake Crivaro scurried along with them, smiling impishly at Riley.
Riley felt a flash of worry. This hadn’t been part of the plan. Was it a good idea for Jake to join them, with his bad knees, bad eyes, hearing aid, and pacemaker?
Now’s no time to argue, Riley thought.
Besides, she understood how Jake must feel. After years of retirement, he wasn’t going to stay on the sidelines. He was eager for some action. Riley couldn’t blame him.
With Riley in the lead, the group pushed through the double front doors that hung ajar. Holding their guns and flashlights up in front of them, they checked inside each opening as they moved through a wide hallway.
Then they stood still and listened. No sound revealed other life within the house. The place seemed even larger, more awe-inspiring than it had from the outside.
Chief Strait said softly, “We need to get a better look at these rooms.”
The three men separated to check them out. Riley turned her flashlight on a circular stairway that wound upward to a gallery. She climbed upward.
At the top of the stairs she moved quietly along a balcony, then encountered a pair of double doors. She pushed a door open carefully and stepped into an enormous room. It was flanked by tall windows that were dark now. Then her roving light caught something right in the center of the space.
Riley stood still and kept her light on the object. It was a single straight-back chair facing away from Riley. Someone was sitting there. It looked like a man, and his head was tilted awkwardly to one side.
“Orin Rhodes?” Riley said sharply.
But she already sensed that this wasn’t Orin Rhodes. The room was filled with a familiar ugly stench. Whoever was sitting in that chair had been dead for days.
She flashed her light around the room again to make sure no
one else was there. Then she yelled to her companions downstairs, “I’ve got something up here.”
As she heard footsteps coming up the steps, Riley walked around in front of the chair. A man was sitting there. His eyes and mouth were all wide open. Judging from the smell and skin discoloration, he had been dead for at least two days. Like the corpses in South Carolina and the town of Apex, this body was riddled with bullets.
Riley almost gagged on the stench. She had no doubt that she’d found the missing hiker. This man hadn’t been taken by a gator. He hadn’t fallen prey to any wildlife that was natural to this wilderness. He had become yet another random victim of a madman.
But where is Orin Rhodes? she wondered.
Riley was holding a handkerchief over her face, examining the body more closely when Bill, Jake, and Chief Strait joined her.
“Does it look like he was killed right here?” Chief Strait asked.
Riley considered it a good question. How strictly was Rhodes sticking to his MO? She pointed out details and began to explain.
“Rhodes normally likes to torment his victims, make them plead and try to escape. But there’s no blood around the chair and no trail of blood leading here. He wasn’t killed here.”
Jake pointed to the body as well.
“His clothes are torn and stained,” Jake said. “Rhodes chased him outdoors until firing the final shot to his forehead.”
“That’s right,” Riley said. “Then Rhodes brought the body up here. The hiker was a smallish man, so Rhodes could have done that by himself.”
Riley looked around. She saw no evidence that Rhodes had spent much time here. But of course, that meant little. She remembered how thoroughly he’d cleaned out the cabin in South Carolina before leaving.
Bill reached for the victim’s jacket pocket.
“Here’s something,” he said.
He pulled an envelope out of the pocket. It had no name written on it, but Riley knew that the message inside was meant for her.
Bill seemed to realize this too. He handed the envelope to her, and she opened it. Written on a plain piece of paper in Rhodes’ familiar printing was an extremely short message.
You lose!
If you come alone she might still be alive.
Bill, Jake, and Chief Strait stood looking at the note in her hand.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jake asked.
Riley said nothing. But the meaning of the words was absolutely clear to her. Orin Rhodes had played her into being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had lured her as far away from her home as possible.
Because April was the real target all along.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
It was cold outside, but April loved the view from the third-story balcony. She and Daddy really had picked out a wonderful house to rent in Chincoteague. It was three stories tall, and it had many rooms and lots of balconies and porches that looked out over the water.
Of course, April knew that she wasn’t supposed to be out here. She was under strict orders to stay inside and away from windows. But Darlene, the agent whose job it was to protect her, was in the kitchen making a snack. And Daddy was somewhere else in the house, working on a legal case on his computer.
Some “vacation,” she thought.
She should have known that Daddy couldn’t leave his work behind even for just a day or two.
Not that she cared very much. Nobody would notice if she came out here for just a few minutes. She thought it would be a shame to come all the way to Chincoteague and not enjoy the view. And it really was a wonderful view, overlooking the waterfront of the Assateague Channel.
She’d found a pair of binoculars lying around in the house. She was looking through them at Assateague Island, right across the channel. That was where herds of wild ponies lived. She could see them right now, a small group of mixed dark and pintos. They were beautiful.
She thought back fondly to when Dad and Mom had brought her here when she was little. It had been summer, and there was a lot more to see and do back then. She’d gotten to watch the pony roundup. Every summer, 150 adult wild ponies and the foals that were born in the spring swam the channel over here to Chincoteague Island.
She smiled as she remembered how she’d cried when the ponies were auctioned off, and Mom and Dad said she couldn’t have one. Of course, she now understood that it was the right decision. But back then she’d been too little to understand.
She tilted the binoculars down to look along the shore on their side of the channel. She saw some pretty white birds. But as she swept the binoculars along the beach, something fleetingly caught her eye—a man in a jacket, she thought. Or were her eyes just playing tricks on her? She moved the binoculars back and forth, trying to find him again. She was interrupted by the glass doors sliding open behind her.
“April! What are you doing out here!”
April lowered the binoculars. It was Darlene, looking none too happy with her.
April pointed down at the beach.
“Darlene!” she said. “I saw somebody down there!”
She handed the binoculars to Darlene, who surveyed the beach.
“I don’t see anybody,” Darlene said.
April leaned over the rail and looked carefully. Now she couldn’t see anybody either.
“Come on, get back inside,” Darlene said.
“But Darlene—”
“That’s an order!”
April and Darlene went back inside. April wanted to think that the man was just a trick of the light, a figment of her imagination.
But the image was still there, like a sudden quick flash of light that kept flickering in the retina even after it was gone. The man had been real, all right. And April felt sure that he’d been looking up at her.
*
Orin Rhodes stood looking up at the lights inside the elegant vacation home. The father and the daughter were in there, relaxing and taking it easy.
They’ve got no idea what they’re in for, he thought.
He’d seen the girl just this afternoon. She’d been standing on the upstairs balcony, looking around with binoculars. Then a woman had come out and taken the girl back inside—an FBI agent, no doubt.
Orin wasn’t worried about her. He was sure he could handle her. And he hadn’t spotted any other agents through the windows, or any watching in cars. He’d already used his laptop computer to find out that the house had no security system. The whole thing was going to be almost too easy.
Although the night was cold, Orin felt a warm swell of self-satisfaction. He’d played his hand perfectly every step of the way so far. It had been especially smart of him to hire that cheap private eye to follow Ryan Paige’s movements. That’s how he had found out that the girl was being kept under guard in the motel.
Attacking there and then had been out of the question. The last thing he’d wanted was an open firefight with the FBI. So he’d been patient. And soon his patience had paid off. The private eye had seen the girl and her father leave the motel and had followed them here.
The detective had dutifully given Orin the address, and Orin had paid him for completing the job. Now Orin was so happy with the detective’s work that he decided not to kill him after all.
But what about Riley Paige? he wondered.
What was she doing right now?
He’d certainly led her on a long chase through South Carolina and Florida. The two murders had been big, flashy statements, and she hadn’t ignored them. He had successfully lured her far away from her family. But had she picked up on the more subtle clues?
For example, the “message” he had mailed to himself in Philadelphia? The fliers for the Everglades that he’d left in the cabin in South Carolina? And what about the cut-out picture of the mansion in the Everglades?
Finally, what about the note he had left on the body in the mansion? Surely she’d understand it if she saw it. Surely she’d damn well keep quiet and come here by herself, with no backup of a
ny kind.
In fact, if all had gone perfectly, she might well be on her way here right now. But he knew better than to expect too much from chance. Chance had dealt him a lucky hand so far, and he knew that his luck wouldn’t last forever. If need be, a simple phone call would be enough to lure Riley Paige into the trap he was setting for her right now.
She’d suffer before she died, and Heidi would be avenged. And then Heidi’s spirit would be free, and Orin would be free as well. He could kill randomly and viciously to his heart’s content for as long as chance would allow.
Life is good, he thought. And death is good too.
Orin looked up and down the beach. No other houses were close to this one, and there was no activity in the neighborhood.
The lights were brightest in the second floor of the house. That must be the main floor. Yes, he could see nice outside stairs going up to the double-door main entrance. A few lights showed on the third floor, which he was sure must be made up of bedrooms.
The first floor was completely dark, which suited him well. That part of the house was probably entirely garage and storage areas. It was going to be the perfect place to break in without being noticed.
He was surveying the house from just beyond the patch of light thrown by a fixture over the garage. A door off to one side looked promising. He figured it must have a deadbolt lock, but that wouldn’t hold him up long.
He moved quickly across the lighted area to the doorway. Then he fished a couple of bobby pins out of his pocket. He’d learned how to use them from a burglar pal in prison. The pins were already bent to just the angles he needed.
Standing exposed in the light like this might be the most dangerous part of this undertaking. But he couldn’t let that rattle him. He slowed down his breathing to calm his nerves.
Inserting one bent bobby pin into the lock as a tension wrench, he inserted the other above it, then slid it toward him, teasing the pins lightly. It took him three tries, but soon he was able to twist the bolt free.
He pushed the door open silently, then shut it behind him. The room was dark, and it was a relief to be out of the light. He stood and listened for a moment. As he expected, the door wasn’t wired for an alarm, and no one seemed to have heard him lightly scratching the lock.