“Hey!” Angel turned to look at the pilot. “You had a couple more passengers. You’d better go back.”
“There’ll be another taxi in a few minutes.” The woman glanced at Angel, then went back to steering the boat, which she’d pushed into full throttle.
How rude. Angel thought about telling her that kind of attitude could get her fired but didn’t. It’s not my business, she decided, turning to face the wind and enjoy the scenery. The ride back seemed particularly long. Angel looked around and could no longer see the dock. And the destination marina where they should be docking lay far off to their right. Too far off.
“Isn’t that the marina over there?” she yelled above the motor noise. Concern rose like a tide. “What’s going on? Where are you going?”
The pilot cut the engine, throwing Angel forward. She caught the rail to steady herself.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The woman was now holding a gun and waving it in Angel’s direction. Her heavy makeup looked out of place, especially out here on the water, but then some women didn’t know when to quit.
Only this wasn’t a woman, Angel realized. The makeup was thick, but it couldn’t completely conceal the marks on the man’s cheek—the scratches she had put there with her keys.
Why hadn’t she paid closer attention? Angel swallowed back the bile rising to her throat. Keep your cool. Don’t let him sense your fear. You got him before, and you can do it again. He’s not all that strong.
But he’s mad.
“That’s a pretty good makeup job,” she said. “A little too heavy, though.”
“Yeah, well it fooled you.”
“Yes, it did.” Angel sat back on the seat, trying to look relaxed. She needed time to assess the situation. To assess him. “You’re quite clever with disguises.”
“How come you recognized me, then?”
“I’m observant. I have to admit, you had me fooled this time. I didn’t think you’d turn feminine on me.” Angel eyed the marina in the distance. The nearest boat had to be five miles away. She could swim, but not that far. Besides, he’d probably have a bullet in her before she could dive off the boat. And in water this cold, she’d die of hypothermia within half an hour.
He smiled. “Gotcha.”
“So now that you’ve managed to get me, what are you going to do with me?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.” He waved the gun at her. “Come up here and steer the boat.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You won’t. You’ll do exactly as I say if you ever want to see that pretty lady at the art gallery.”
Angel bounced to her feet and set the boat to rocking. “What did you do to her?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” One side of his overly red lips lifted in a sneer. “Just get up here and do what I tell you.”
Figuring she had better play along, Angel joined him at the wheel. He took the adjacent seat and trained the gun on her. “That’s better. Now, head for that inlet on the far side of the lake.”
She tracked to where he pointed. From here, the area looked uninhabited. No cabins, only thick fir trees and pines for miles. Scanning the horizon, she saw no boats in the vicinity. No way to signal for help.
Angel steered the boat as he directed, looking for an opportunity to disarm him without taking a bullet. Her arm was still sore from the last bullet, and even sorer after having to fight off this freak. Still, she’d go down kicking, no matter what it took. For now, though, it looked as if she had no option but to do what he told her. Several minutes later as they approached the shoreline, Angel could see just how rugged the area was.
“What are you planning to do?” she asked again.
“Get you out of the way. You’re the only one who can recognize me, except for your cop friend back in Sunset Cove.”
“Are you going to get rid of me like you did Nick?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I thought he was dead.”
“Lucky for you he isn’t. Otherwise you’d be wanted for murder. You’re kind of new at this killing stuff, aren’t you?”
“Why would you say that?” he growled.
“I can tell. You seem nervous.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Huh. Since you’re planning to kill me, could you at least tell me who you are and how you figure into this mess?”
“Just get out of the boat.”
“Why?”
“’Cause I said so, and I got a gun.”
Angel looked over the side. The clear water showed a mass of roots, rocks, and mud.
She imagined he’d kill her once she got off the boat. That way there’d be no blood evidence on the boat itself, or on him. She wondered how good a shot he was and how hard he’d try to catch her if she ran. The forest came nearly to the shore, leaving only a narrow shoreline. If she did run, it would have to be into the woods, and they didn’t look all that inviting.
Angel climbed over the edge and dropped into the water, sucking in a sharp breath as the cold mountain water covered her hips. She slogged through it, glad for the tennis shoes. She’d start running the second she stepped out of the lake. With any luck, she’d get far enough into the woods to be protected from the bullets.
“Don’t try anything.” He was in the water too, something she hadn’t expected, and close behind. There was no way she could outrun his bullets at this range.
They stepped onto the shore at about the same time. He was holding a coiled rope in his free hand. “Now sit down with your back against that tree over there.”
“You’re tying me up?”
“You got a problem with that?”
“Yeah, a big one.” She didn’t, really. Being tied up here would at least give her an opportunity to get away. With any luck at all, she’d be able to loosen the knots, but she didn’t want him to know that. “I won’t have a chance out here,” she wailed. “I’ll die of starvation, if the wild animals don’t get me first. There are coyotes and bears and mountain lions.”
“Lions and tigers and bears, oh yeah.” He seemed to think his reference to The Wizard of Oz was funny.
Angel sat at the base of the tree and put her hands behind her back as he’d asked. He wrapped the rope around her wrists and then secured her to the tree. With another piece of rope, he tied her ankles together.
“Please don’t do this,” she pleaded, already working at the knots. She wasn’t too worried at this point, preferring to be tied up to being shot.
“Or what?” He backed away, examining his handiwork. “You’re lucky, you know. I was going to kill you right away, but I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t need a reason.”
A chill ran through her. He had Kinsey too—was he planning to demand a ransom? Did he know about her wealthy brothers? And what about Luke? Had he gotten to him as well?
She lowered her head to her knees, wishing he’d leave so she could work more diligently on escaping. She shivered from her cold, wet clothes. Fortunately the sun was overhead, and he hadn’t insisted on taking her deeper into the woods. She just hoped that when she did manage to get loose, she’d be able to hike out.
Whatever this creep had in mind, she intended to do whatever she could to thwart his plans.
THIRTY-SIX
Her captor let out a shriek along with a string of obscenities that shocked even Angel. And working around cops, she’d heard a lot of profanity. Glancing up, she saw the object of his anger moving stealthily away from them and into deep water. He’d forgotten to drop anchor and secure the boat.
Angel suppressed a chuckle as she watched him high step into the water. At about ten feet out, he dropped out of sight.
Arms and legs thrashing, he came up for air and yelled, “Help! I can’t swim!” before going under again.
Angel almost felt sorry for him and worked harder at the knots. He came up again, still thrashing around in the wate
r. If he really was drowning, she’d never be able to reach him in time. She managed to free her hands and began working on the ankles. He must have hit solid ground by then, as he was able to keep his head above the water for several seconds before going under again.
The guy had to be the most uncoordinated mess of humankind she’d ever seen. He thrashed around in the water for several minutes, and Angel was sure he would drown himself in the shallow water trying to get back onto shore. He eventually found his footing and staggered toward her. Once he cleared the water, he collapsed, panting and heaving up the lake water he’d swallowed.
Free now, she walked down to the shoreline and hunkered beside him. “Looks like you’ll live.” Smudges of mascara circled his eyes, and he’d lost his wig.
He groaned and turned away from her. “How’d you get loose?”
She shrugged. “Call me Houdini. My brothers used to tie me up when they wanted to get rid of me for a while. It never worked.”
He coughed. “What now?”
“Well.” She pulled the gun from the small of his back, where he’d tucked it into his waistband. She doubted it would work but wasn’t about to tell him that. “Looks like we’re stuck here.”
His shoulders shook, and he started to whine about dying out here in the wilderness. He didn’t even try to move when she went back for the ropes and tied his hands and feet together as if she were trussing up a calf.
With the knots secure, Angel stood at the waterline and looked out at the boat. Unfortunately, her bag was still on board along with her cell phone. If she didn’t want to spend the night out here with Baldy, she’d have to go after it. She could still reach it but didn’t relish the idea—mountain lakes in springtime could be killers.
“Where are the keys to the boat?” Angel asked.
“In the ignition.” He coughed. “You’re not going to leave me here, are you?”
“Why shouldn’t I? You were going to leave me.”
“Please. I was going to let you go after I got the money.”
So he was planning a ransom. “Don’t worry, you won’t be here for long. Rest assured, tonight you’ll be booked into a nice warm cell, with a bed just your size.”
She took off her shoes and stepped into the water, her bare foot landing on something furry. She yelped and looked down for a moment, thinking it was a dead animal, then realized it was the guy’s wig. She snatched up the hairpiece that now resembled a waterlogged ferret and tossed it up on the narrow beach, where it caught on a tree branch.
Angel shivered in apprehension before taking several steps across the rocks and roots, then dove in. The icy water must have lowered her temperature at least ten degrees. High octane adrenaline propelled her across the water, and she felt certain she must have broken several speed records on the thirty-yard trip. Even in that short a time, her arms and legs ached from the cold.
Angel used the small ladder at the back to climb aboard. She grabbed her cell phone and started the engine at the same time. She had no phone signal—not surprising.
Her first inclination was to leave the guy there and let the police pick him up, but after thinking about it, she decided to go back. Once the police arrested him, she’d probably never get the chance to talk to him, and she had far too many unanswered questions to let that happen.
Under the cushions, she found some first aid supplies, including a flashlight and blankets. Fortunately, the sun wouldn’t go down for another four or five hours. Time enough to interrogate him, then motor to the marina and call the police. Angel ran the boat as close as she could to shore, stopping only when she heard a slight scrape on the bow. She grabbed the mooring line and took the blankets ashore and dropped one of them on the poor slob, who was still blubbering. Angel shook her head. In all her years as a cop, she’d never seen such a poor excuse for a bad guy.
She tied the boat to one of the larger branches, after making sure it was well connected.
Through chattering teeth he stammered, “Y-you’re not going to l-leave me tied up like this, are y-you? I can’t move and I... I’m freezing.”
“I can make you more comfortable, but I suggest you not try anything.” She picked up the gun she’d set down on a nearby piece of driftwood to dry. Angel loosened the knots, releasing his feet, then allowed him to turn around before she secured his feet to a fallen tree and retied his hands to the front. Once she’d gotten him tied back up, she draped the blanket over his shoulders. Their clothes were steaming as the sun warmed them.
Angel moved away from him and sank down on a tree stump. She picked up the second blanket but set it aside. With all the activity, she’d worked up a sweat.
“What are you going to do now?” He’d stopped sniveling and seemed almost relieved.
“Turn you over to the authorities.”
“I figured as much.”
“Who are you, anyway?” Angel asked. When he didn’t answer, she said, “Look, the police will fingerprint you and we’ll figure it out in no time. So what’s your name?”
“Why don’t you just kill me?”
“Believe me, I’d like to. But unlike you, I don’t kill people, I arrest them.”
“All I wanted to do was make a few bucks.”
“You could have tried getting a real job. That’s what most people do.”
“You don’t understand.”
Angel rolled her eyes. “You’re right about that.” After a brief silence she asked, “Tell me who you are.”
“Justin.”
“You got a last name, Justin?”
“Moore.”
Angel picked up the almost dry synthetic wig and swung it around on one finger. “Want your hair back?”
“Very funny.”
“So tell me, Justin, how did a klutz like you end up trying to kill a cop?”
Justin’s shoulders drooped. “I never wanted to kill anybody. A few weeks ago, this guy caught me trying to steal his wallet. I got this deal, you know—I hang out at the casino and pick pockets. If they catch me, I get all teary and tell them I’m sorry, that I got a wife and kid at home and haven’t been able to get work. They usually give me a few bucks. But this guy was different. He asks me if I’m local, and I tell him I am.”
“Are you?”
“Yeah. Grew up in Road’s End.”
“How was this guy different?”
“He hired me. Paid me four thousand to watch your family. He told me he was looking for your long-lost brother, and I was supposed to call if he showed up.”
“You were at the funeral. How did you know Luke was there?”
“He fit the description. Except for the beard and stuff. I just knew to look for somebody his height and age. My boss told me he’d probably be by himself. I just figured it was him.”
Justin sniffed and rubbed his hand under his nose.
“How old are you, Justin?”
“What does that matter?”
“Just curious.” Angel blew out a long breath as she examined him. He looked to be in his midtwenties, but his mental state didn’t seem to fit with the age. He acted more like a teenager. If he was a drug user, the drugs could’ve delayed his development. One thing for sure, he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier.
“When you told your boss that you’d found Luke, what did he say?”
“That I should kill both of them.”
“Both of them? You told him about Nick too?”
“Yeah. I said that killing wasn’t part of the deal, but then he offered me more money. A lot more money.”
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand. I got half the money from shooting Nick, ’cause I sent my boss the picture I took.”
“But Nick isn’t dead.”
The Adam’s apple shifted again. “I know, but I didn’t think the boss would figure it out. I was going to come here and kill Luke and collect the rest of my money and go to Mexico.”
“That means you haven’t found Luke yet?”
“I was hopin
g you’d lead me to him, only I got tired of waiting and then you gouged me with those stupid keys.”
Angel shook her head, relieved. At least Luke was safe from this creep. “You got shafted, Justin.”
“What do you mean?”
“Twenty thousand to kill two men is peanuts. Hit men get at least sixty thousand a head.”
He stared at the ground. “Even that’s not enough.” Glancing in her direction, he asked, “What’s going to happen now?”
“Depends on how well you cooperate with the police.” She folded her arms and took a step toward him. “What happened to Faith Carlson?”
“Who?”
“The reporter?”
“What reporter?”
Angel sighed. “Come on, Justin, you know who I mean. The woman who was taking pictures at my father’s funeral. The one I found dead in her house.”
He looked out at the lake. “I—I didn’t mean to kill her. I just broke into her house to get the pictures she took of me. Not of me exactly, but she aimed the camera in my direction. I was just gonna take the pictures and get out of there, but there were too many, and she came home while I was looking around. I didn’t know what to do so I wrapped a telephone cord around her neck, and then I pushed her on the floor and ran.”
Angel felt sick and rested her hand on her stomach, working to regain some objectivity and wondering how much more damage the guy had done. “Did you get the pictures?”
“I couldn’t find them, but I figured it would be okay ’cause I look different now.”
If he didn’t have the pictures, then where were they? She rubbed her forehead. “Did you get rid of anyone else, Justin?”
“Can’t we just go now?”
“What about Kinsey Sinclair?”
“I didn’t do nothin’ to her. I was just saying that to make you cooperate.”
“What about Matt, the guy whose clothes and ID you stole? What happened to him?”
Justin chewed on a fingernail. “You ask too many questions.”
“Let me tell you something, Justin. Your boss isn’t going to be too happy when he finds out that you didn’t actually kill Nick. Which means you’re a dead man if and when he gets hold of you. I might be able to help you stay alive, but you’re going to have to do exactly what I say. Where’s Matthew Turlock?”
As Good as Dead Page 17