by Andrew Gross
“Maybe later.” He shrugged. “But in the meantime, Karen, I’m afraid it’s simply back to my house for a late dinner. And you…” He smoothed out the wrinkles from his sweater and straightened his collar. He had a look on his face that was almost sad. “You know I don’t take any pleasure in doing this, Karen. I’ve always been fond of you. But you must realize there’s just no way we can afford to let you go.”
At that moment the French doors to the backyard opened and another man stepped in—shorter, dark-haired, with a graying mustache.
Karen knew him instantly from the descriptions. Dietz.
“All clear,” he said. Karen noticed that his shoes were caked with dirt and sand.
Lennick nodded. “Good.”
Fear swelled up in Karen. “What are you going to do with me, Saul?”
“A little late-night swim, maybe. Overcome with grief and dismay at finding your husband alive—then dead again. It’s a lot for anybody, Karen.”
Karen shook her head. “It’s not gonna hold up, Saul. Hauck’s already been to his boss. He told him everything. About the hit-and-runs, Dietz, and Hodges. They’re gonna know who did this. They’re gonna come after you, Saul.”
“After me?” Lennick headed toward the door as Karen struggled against the man who pinned her arms. “Don’t worry your little head about it, dear. Our friend Hodges is going to have a rather difficult go of it tonight himself. And Mr. Dietz here”—Lennick nodded conspiratorially—“well, I might as well let him explain his situation to you himself.”
She pulled against her assailant’s grip, tears of hate burning in her eyes. “How did you ever become such a reptile, Saul? How can you ever look at my children again after this?”
“Sam and Alex.” He brushed his thin hair back. “Oh, rest assured they’ll be very well taken care of, Karen. Those kids will have a lot of money coming to them. Your late husband was a very wealthy man. Didn’t you know?”
“Rot in hell, Saul! You bastard!” Karen twisted around as he closed the front door.
He left. Karen started to sob. Hauck. Charles. Never seeing Sam and Alex again. The idea of Saul “grieving” over her. The anger burning inside her that her kids would never know. She thought of Ty, and a sharp sadness came over her. She had gotten him into this. She thought of his own daughter, who would never know.
Then she turned to Dietz, petrified. Hot tears and mucus were running down her face.
“You don’t have to do this,” she begged.
“Oh, don’t get yourself into such a state,” the man with the mustache sneered. “They say it’s like falling asleep. Just give yourself over to it. It’s sort of like sex, right? Do you want it rough? Or do you want it easy?” He chuckled to his partner. “We’re not exactly savages here, are we, Cates?”
“Savages? No,” the man holding her said. He kneed her in the back of the legs, and Karen cried out, her weight crumbling. “C’mon….”
Dietz picked up a roll of packing tape that was sitting on the table. He tore a piece off and placed it firmly over Karen’s mouth. It cut off her breath. Then he ripped a longer strip and wrapped it tightly around her wrists. “C’mon, doll….” He took her by the arms. “Shame about your boyfriend, though. I mean, after busting into my house like that—I’d have liked to have done that one myself.”
They dragged her through the open French doors out onto the patio in back. Karen could hear Tobey barking wildly from where he was locked up, fighting them, forced into the dark against her will, his helpless yelps filled her not only with worry but with a rising sadness, too.
Why the hell do they get to win?
They pulled her off the deck into the backyard. There was a path behind her property through a wooden gate that led to the town road to Teddy’s Beach, restricted to local residents, just a block away.
Teddy’s Beach. Suddenly a new fear swept through Karen’s body. That beach was tiny and deserted. It had a protective rock-wall jetty, and other than a few teenagers who might’ve gone down there at night to make a bonfire or smoke some pot, Karen realized that it would be totally deserted. And blocked from the other homes.
That’s what Dietz had meant when he’d said “All clear.”
Goddamn it, no. She kicked Dietz in the shins with the point of her shoe, and he spun, angry, and smacked her in the face with the back of his rough hand. Blood spurted out Karen’s nose. She choked on it.
Dietz glared at her. “I said behave!”
He hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of flour and ripped off her shoes. He thrust the barrel of a gun up into her nose. “Listen, bitch, I told you what the choice was. You want it easy—or rough? You can fucking decide. Me, I can do it either way. My advice is to lie back and enjoy the ride. It’s gonna be over before you even know it. Trust me, you got a much better ticket than your boyfriend.”
He carried her through the tightly wooded path, thorns and brambles scratching her legs. Her only hope was that someone would see them. She screamed and fought against the tape, but she could barely make a sound. Please, let someone be down here, she begged, please….
But what would that even get her? Probably only a bullet in the head.
They came out of the woods onto the end of the town road. Totally dark and deserted. No one. The salty breeze crept into her nostrils. A few lights shone from houses in the distance, across the cove.
Dietz dropped her and pulled her by the arms. “Let’s go.”
No… Karen was crying. Fiercely, she wrenched her bound wrists away from him, but there was nothing she could do. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She thought of Ty, and the tears grew heavier and uncontrollable, choking her, making her unable to breathe. Oh, baby, you can’t be dead. Please, Ty, please, hear me…. Her heart almost split in two at the thought that she had caused him harm.
They dragged her down through the sand, and she shook her head back and forth, screaming inside, No!
Cates, the ponytailed bastard, yanked her into the water.
Karen kneed him in the groin. He howled and then spun in rage. “Goddamn it!” and kicked her in the stomach. He dropped her at last, face-first, in the shallow water. Exhausted, out of resistance. Forcing Karen’s face under the warm foam.
“Heard the jet stream’s nice this time of year.” Cates chuckled. “Shouldn’t be too bad.”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ONE
It took just minutes, Hauck’s Bronco speeding down Route 1 with its top hat flashing, for him to pull outside the house on Sea Wall.
Two local blue-and-whites had already beaten him there.
Hauck noticed Karen’s white Lexus parked in front of the garage. He grabbed his gun and slid out of the Bronco, favoring his right leg. Two uniformed cops, each carrying lit Maglites, were exiting the front door. He recognized one from the station, Torres. Hauck went up to them, clutching his side.
“Anyone inside?”
Torres shrugged. “There was a dog locked in one of the rooms, Lieutenant. Other than that, negative.”
That didn’t wash. Karen’s car was here. If they had come after him, it seemed inevitable that they had come after her. “What about Mrs. Friedman? Did you check upstairs?”
“All over the house, Lieutenant. O’Hearn and Pallacio are still in there.” The officer’s eyes fell to Hauck’s side. “Jesus, sir…”
Hauck headed past him into the open house, the patrolman left staring at the trail of blood.
He called out, “Karen?” No reply. Hauck’s heart started to beat wildly. He heard barking. Officer Pallacio came down the stairs, with his gun drawn.
“Fucking dog.” He shook his head. “Shot by me like a Formula One.” He looked surprised to see Hauck. “Lieutenant!”
“Is anybody here?” Hauck demanded.
“No one, sir. Just Rin Tin Tin out there.” He pointed out back.
“Did you check the basement?”
The cop nodded. “All over, sir.”
Shit. Karen’s car was here. Maybe she had g
one to her friend’s…. He racked his brain. What was her name? Paula. Hauck’s gaze fixed on a roll of packing tape on a chair. A pile of mail and magazines were scattered about the floor. The French doors leading to the patio were ajar—Tobey barking like crazy out there.
He didn’t like what he was feeling at all.
He went through the doors and looked out at the yard. The night was bright, clear. He smelled the nearby sound. The dog was on the deck, barking nonstop. Clearly upset.
“Where the hell is she, Tobey?” Hauck sucked in a breath. Every time he did, it killed him.
Limping, he made his way into the backyard. There was a small pool out there, a couple of chaises. Every instinct in his body told him Karen was in danger. She had talked with Charles. She knew. He should never have let her come back here without him. Why would it make sense to silence only him?
Farther along, his eyes were drawn to something lying in the grass.
Shoes. Karen’s. The ones she’d been wearing earlier tonight. A pattering of nerves drummed up in him. The beating in his heart intensified.
“Karen?” he called.
Why would they be out here?
He looked further. There was some gardening equipment on the ground, a plastic watering jug. Near the end of the yard, he came upon a wooden gate—unlatched. It opened to a narrow wooded path. He went through it. Hauck suddenly realized what it was.
It led around to the end of the town road off Surfside.
To Teddy’s Beach.
He heard a voice from behind him. “Lieutenant, you need any help out there?”
Clutching his gun, forcing the pain out of his mind, Hauck stepped along the path. He pushed a few branches out of his way. After thirty or forty yards, weaving behind other houses on Sea Wall, he saw the opening to the town road.
He cupped his hands over his mouth. “Karen!”
No reply.
Something on the ground caught Hauck’s eye. He knelt, almost buckling from the surge of pain shooting through his thigh.
A sliver of fabric. Orange.
His heart stopped still. Karen had been wearing an orange top.
A tremor of dread rose up in him. He looked out toward the beach. Oh, Jesus. He did his best to run.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWO
Her face was pressed under the surface, breath tightening in her lungs, flailing at him with her arms, Cates’s strong hands pinning the back of her head.
Karen had fought him with everything she had. Clawing, trying to bite his arm, gasping to suck a gulp of precious air into her lungs. Once she even pulled him over on top of her, amusing Dietz, getting Cates all soaked, and he drew his fist to her face in a menacing rage. “Jesus, Cates, what a fucking woman!” she heard Dietz cackle.
Karen spit water out of her mouth and tried to scream. He dunked her under again.
Now it was ending. Cates had finally ripped off the tape from her mouth, and she was taking in water, gasping for breath with every last ounce of strength, coughing, but he cupped his hand over her mouth and forced her back down before she could scream.
And who would hear anyway? Who would hear in time? Her thoughts flashed to Ty. Oh, please…please… Now water was pouring in. She twisted away from his grasp a last time, gagging. This was it. She could no longer fight it. In desperation, Karen reached back, vainly trying to claw at the bastard’s leg.
She heard him shout, “How’s the temperature, bitch?”
A desperate will fought the urge to simply open her mouth, just surrender. Give herself over to the dark tide. She thought of Sam and Alex.
No, Karen, no…
Don’t think of them. Please… That would mean this is it. Don’t give in.
Then the denial inside her slowly relaxing, her mind wandering amid her last futile throes to an image that even in her greatest fear surprised her: an island, palms bending in the breeze, someone on the white sand, in a baseball cap, stepping toward her.
Waving.
Karen stepped toward him. Oh, God…
Just as the hand that pinned her under the dark water suddenly seemed to release.
HAUCK STAGGERED UP out of the grasses over the dune, his leg exploding in agony.
From thirty yards away, he spotted the man kneeling above her in the water, pressing her face down. Someone else—Dietz, he was certain—standing a few yards back on the beach, seemingly amused by things.
“Karen!”
He stepped forward, steadying his gun with two hands in a shooter’s position, just as the man kneeling over Karen looked up.
The first shot hit him in the shoulder, jerking him backward in surprise. The second and the third thudded solidly into his print beach shirt, spewing red. The man toppled into the water and didn’t move.
Karen rolled over and put a hand up in the soft tide.
“Karen!”
Hauck took a step toward her and at the same time spun on Dietz, who was scrambling along the sand, drawing his weapon. The bright moon had illuminated the first guy on the water, but it was dark. Dietz was like a shadow on the move. Hauck squeezed off a shot. It missed him. The next struck him in the knee as he tried to make a run toward the jetty. He pulled up, hobbling like a colt that had broken its leg.
Hauck ran, labored, toward Karen.
Slowly, she rolled over in the shallow surf, gagging, coughing up water. She pushed herself up on her elbows and knees. In horror, she stared at Cates’s wide-eyed shape—next to her, faceup in the water, and backed away as if it were something vile. She turned to Hauck, tears and disbelief in her wet eyes.
But Dietz had moved into position behind her, placing her directly in Hauck’s line of sight. He had his gun aimed at Hauck, momentarily shielded behind Karen.
“Let her go,” Hauck said. He kept stepping forward. “Let her go, Dietz. There’s no way out.” He steadied his gun at Dietz’s chest. “You might imagine just how much I’d relish doing this.”
“You better be good.” Dietz chuckled. “You miss, Lieutenant, the next one goes in her.”
“I am good.” Hauck nodded.
Hauck took a step toward him. More of a stagger in the sand. It was then he realized that his knees were growing weak and that his strength was waning. He had lost a lot of blood.
“No reason to die here, Dietz,” he said. “We all know it was Lennick who was behind the hits. You’ve got someone to roll on, Dietz. Why die for him? You can cut a deal.”
“Why…?” Dietz circled behind Karen, keeping her in his line of sight. He shrugged. “Guess it’s just my nature, Lieutenant.”
Using her as a screen, he fired.
A bright streak whizzed just over Hauck’s shoulder, the heat burning him. His wounded leg buckled as he staggered back. He winced, his arm lowering, exposed.
Seeing an advantage, Dietz stepped forward ready to fire again.
“No…!” Karen screamed, lunging out of the water to stop him. “No!”
Dietz shifted his gun to her.
Hauck hollered, “Dietz!”
He fired. The round caught Dietz squarely in the forehead. The killer’s arm jerked as his own gun went off in the air. He fell back onto the sand, inert, landing like a snow angel, arms and legs spread wide. A trickle of blood oozed from the dime-size hole in his forehead into the lapping surf.
Karen turned, her face wet, glistening. For a moment Hauck just stood there, breathing heavily, two hands wrapped around the gun.
“You didn’t leave,” she said, shaking her head.
“Never,” he said, with a labored smile. Then he dropped to his knees.
“Ty!”
Karen pushed herself up and ran over to him. Dark blood leaked from his side into his hand. Shouts emanated from behind them, flashlights raking over the beach.
Exhausted, Karen hugged him, wrapping her arms around him, a sob of laughter and relief snaking through her tears of fear and exhaustion. She started to cry.
“It’s over, Ty, it’s over,” she said, wiping the
blood off his face, tears flooding her eyes.
“No,” he said, “it’s not over.” He collapsed into her, sucking back his pain against her shoulder. “There’s one last stop.”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THREE
The call came in just as Saul Lennick settled down for a late meal in his kitchen at his house on Deerfield Road.
Ida, the housekeeper, had heated up a pain du champignon meat loaf before she left. Lennick poured himself a glass of day-old Conseillante. Mimi was on the phone upstairs, going over donors for this season’s Red Cross Ball.
He caught his face in the reflection from the window that overlooked Mimi’s gardens. It had been close. A few days later, he didn’t know what might have happened. But he had tidied it all up. Things had worked out pretty well.
Charles was dead, and with him the fear that anything might fall on Lennick. The heavy losses and the violations of the loans, those would be pinned on Charles. The poor fool had simply fled in fear. The cop was dead. Hodges, another loose end, would be dealt with the same way that very night. The old geezer in Pensacola, what did it matter what he went on about now? Dietz and Cates, as soon as he got the call, they would be rich men and out of the country. Out of anyone’s sight.
Yes, Lennick had done things he never thought himself capable of. Things his grandchildren would never know. That was what his career was all about. There were always trade-offs, losses. Sometimes you just had to do things to preserve your capital, right? It had come close to all tumbling down. But now he was safe, his reputation unimpeachable, his network intact. In the morning there was money to be made. That was how you did it—you simply turned the page.
You forgot your losses of the day before.
At the sound of the phone, Lennick flipped it open, the caller ID both lifting him and making him sad at the same time. He washed down a bite of food with a sip of claret.
“Is it done?”
The voice on the other end made his heart stop.