As Good as Dead (Angel Delaney Mysteries Book #3) (Angel Delaney Mystery)

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “Did Paul ever tell you about Luke?”

  “Sure. Your oldest brother, right? The one who disappeared?”

  Angel nodded.

  Rachael chewed on her lower lip, looking as though she wanted to say more.

  “What?” Angel prodded.

  “He not only told me, he had me do some checking.”

  “Checking? As in...?”

  “Paul said you guys never got a clear picture of what happened back in Florida. He said that no one would tell him anything. All he had were vague newspaper and television accounts.”

  “And were you able to find out anything?”

  “Amazingly, yes. Paul gave me some names. I recognized one of them, Andrew Larson, as a guy I’d gone to law school with at Harvard.”

  “You went to school at Harvard? When?”

  “Graduated 2000.”

  “Did you ever meet Luke?”

  “Maybe. There were a lot of students, and Luke graduated in ’98. Paul showed me his picture, but I didn’t recognize him. I called the DA’s office and talked to the guy who took Luke’s job and who’s now the DA.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Andrew was pretty open to talking about it. Luke was supposed to pick up a key witness and his bodyguard in a major trial. The witness was testifying in a case involving a mob organization supposedly run by Robert and Richard Penghetti. Or as they are more affectionately known, Bobby and Rick. From what my friend says, the guys are richer than Gates and are still managing to stay out of the courts. Luke and his witness never showed up in court, and when the cops were sent to check things out, they found the witness and his bodyguard dead. Luke was nowhere around. They’d gotten an anonymous tip indicating that Luke had been seen going into the apartment and leaving alone.” She licked her lips. “He’s still wanted for questioning.”

  Angel sipped at her latte. “I knew that, part of it anyway, but Luke didn’t kill them.”

  “Paul said the same thing. My colleague isn’t so sure, but then he never knew Luke. Anyway, Alton Delong, the DA your brother worked with, quit less than a year later.”

  “Do we know why?”

  “One theory is that he was burned out. He got tired of having the bad guys get off on technicalities. The second theory about Alton’s resignation is that he sold out to the Penghetti family. He denies it, of course, saying he just needed a change. My friend said they’re still trying to get the goods on the Penghetti family but can’t put together enough evidence to prosecute.”

  “Probably doesn’t help that the last witness was killed.”

  “For sure. It’s like they’ve got everyone in their pocket.”

  “Not Luke.”

  “Look, Angel, I know he’s your brother, but Luke’s prints were in that apartment. And the key card found in the room puts him there that morning. The hotel doorman identified him as going into the hotel close to when the murders were committed and not coming back out.”

  Angel changed her mind about telling Rachael about Luke’s being there for the funeral. She doubted the attorney would break confidence, but she couldn’t take the chance.

  “Why are you asking about Luke?” Rachael asked.

  “He’s been on my mind a lot lately. With the funeral and me sleeping in his room while the house is being remodeled. When did Paul ask you to look into the case?”

  “When he found out that I’d graduated from Harvard. He’d seen somewhere that the new DA had graduated from there as well.”

  “I wish he’d told me.”

  “Maybe it’s better that he didn’t. I told Paul to leave it alone. My friend might be completely trustworthy, but it sounds as though those brothers’ tentacles are far reaching. If they discover that we’ve been digging into the case, there could be trouble.” She paused when Joanie brought her latte and scone and then said, “So tell me about Nick.”

  “He’s doing better. He even joked with me today. He’s still in a lot of pain though.” Angel set down her drink, her stomach heavy with a new fear. “Callen thinks Nick may have been shot by a professional.”

  “A hit man?” Rachael blew out a long breath. “Has Nick been trying to find Luke?”

  “He might have been, especially if he and my brothers were talking.” The idea seemed entirely conceivable. Angel didn’t like the way her thoughts had drifted. If her brothers had been looking into Luke’s disappearance, they could be in danger as well. “Did you mention Paul’s name when you talked to this Andrew guy?”

  Her eyes widened. “I might have. Oh, my... You don’t think... No, Andrew’s a nice guy. Listen to me. I really doubt Andrew would be involved with the mob. But then money talks, doesn’t it.” She rubbed her forehead. “We shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions here. The attempt on Nick’s life may have had nothing to do with what happened to Luke.”

  “Just the same, we’d better call Paul and tell him and Peter to watch their backs.”

  Rachael looked ready to cry. “I hope this is all a figment of our imaginations, Angel. I can’t bear the thought of Paul being in danger because I happened to mention his name to a colleague.”

  “I hope so too.” She pressed her hands against the arms of the chair and stood. “I think I’ll head over to the resort and have a talk with them.”

  “They aren’t there.” Rachael looked stricken.

  Angel lowered herself back into the chair. “Where are they?”

  “Paul called me this morning. Said he and Peter were heading to the resort on Marathon Key.”

  “Florida,” they both said at once.

  EIGHT

  Crazy. Her brothers were all crazy. Angel hated being left out—had always hated it. Since she was the baby of the family, her four older brothers felt she was too young to hang around with them and tended to ignore her. It seemed as though they were always conspiring to go places where they knew she couldn’t go. Maybe she had been too young then, but certainly not now.

  How dare they start digging into Luke’s past without talking to her? Had Peter and Paul gone to Florida to find Luke? Had they dug up information that revealed his whereabouts? Had Nick said something to them? Were they all in cahoots? The more she thought about what Rachel had said, the angrier she became.

  Before heading home, Angel stopped at St. Matthews Church to have a talk with Tim.

  She walked past Paula, his secretary, who held up a hand in warning. “He’s on the—”

  “Well, he can just get off it,” Angel grumbled.

  “I guess he’ll have to.” The secretary shook her head.

  Angel stopped before she got to the closed door. “I’m sorry, Paula. I’m not in the best mood.”

  “So I see. Want to talk about it? Might help if you diffuse a little before heading in there.”

  Angel took a deep breath. “Um, it’s personal.” Nodding toward Tim’s office, she said, “Is the call really important?”

  “Sort of. He’s talking to an author about coming to speak at a men’s retreat.”

  “Oh. Who?” Not that she cared all that much. But Paula was right. It wouldn’t help matters to rush into Tim’s office as upset as she was.

  “Jacob Ellsworth.”

  “The singer?”

  “Right.” Her eyes flashed with enthusiasm. “His voice is heavenly, and he writes the most thought-provoking books. He’s also single and very handsome.”

  Angel chuckled. Paula was middle-aged and married, with about six kids. “Sounds like Tim should get him for the women’s retreat.”

  “Now that would be interesting.” She sighed, then glanced at her phone and said, “Looks like he just hung up. You can go on in.”

  Angel did. “Did you get your speaker?” she asked, glancing around at the well-stocked bookshelves and religious wall art. He had a picture of Susan and the girls and himself in a seashell frame on his desk.

  Tim raised an eyebrow. “Yes, but...”

  “Paula told me. Did you know your secretary has a crush on the guy?”
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  He chuckled. “I’m not surprised. So do most of the women in the congregation.” Resting on his elbows he asked, “To what do I owe this rare and unexpected visit?”

  She sank into the chair in front of his desk. “Do you know where Peter and Paul are?”

  “On their way to Florida, I suppose. That’s what Paul told me yesterday.”

  “Do you happen to know why they’re going to Florida?”

  He shrugged and closed the folder he had open on his desk. “Same reason as always, to check out their resort on Marathon Key.”

  Angel squinted at him, trying to read his features. He didn’t seem to be hiding anything. Maybe he really didn’t know. She decided to enlighten him.

  Tim was surprised at her news, and the more Angel told him, the more upset he got.

  “Rachael told you this?”

  “Yes, and I’m worried. Luke’s disappearance is tied to a mob organization that’s been operating down there. The DA thinks Luke may have been paid off and may have even killed the state’s primary witness and his guard. You and I know Luke would never do that, but something sure is going on. Nick was shot—Callen thinks it may have been a professional hit. Did Nick say anything to you about Luke being at the funeral?”

  Tim slowly moved his head from side to side, his features weary. “No. This is the first I’ve heard. Are you sure?”

  “Did you notice the man with the beard who was standing off by himself?”

  “No, I wasn’t have much of an opportunity to look around.”

  “Nick talked to him. I thought maybe he’d come to you and the twins.”

  “No. I wish I could shed some light on this, but it looks like I’m farther out of the loop than you are.” He frowned. “I can’t believe they didn’t tell me. I didn’t even see this guy you’re talking about. Are you sure it was Luke?”

  “I wasn’t at the time, but Nick said it was, and he wouldn’t have lied to me about it.”

  “No, I don’t suppose he would. Have you called the twins?” Tim asked.

  Angel checked her watch. “No, but they’d still be in flight.”

  Tim pushed his chair back. “Let’s go for a walk—I could use some lunch.”

  Angel followed him through the church offices and outside. Tim was probably the most levelheaded of all her brothers and the most mature. Some of that maturity had undoubtedly come from the life-threatening car accident he’d been in as a teenager. He’d struggled terribly with depression for a several months, but when the ordeal was over and he came home from the hospital, Angel noticed a major change in him. Tim always told her he’d had a revelation and a serious talk with God. After that, he’d gone to college and seminary with one goal in mind—to become a pastor.

  Angel hurried to catch up to him. “You could wait for me, you know.”

  He slowed. “Sorry. I tend to walk fast when I’m upset.”

  “Yeah, me too, but my legs are shorter than yours. So what are we going to do about Peter and Paul?”

  “Have you talked to Callen yet?” Tim asked. “Does he know what our brothers are up to?”

  “I told him what Nick said to me, but I haven’t had a chance to tell him about the twins. I need to do that.” Angel chided herself for not having done it already. Peter and Paul could be in trouble, and she’d neglected the obvious form of help. Callen could talk to the authorities in Florida, alert them to the potential danger. “On the other hand, I wonder if the police will do anything. So far as we know, there’s been no crime committed against them.”

  “Hmm. Do you know when they’re due to land?”

  “Rachael said around 6:00.” Angel glanced at her watch.

  “Eastern time.” Tim checked his as well. “They won’t be landing for three hours.”

  As they approached Angel’s favorite lunch spot, the Burger Shed, Tim stopped and held the door open. “This okay for lunch?”

  “Sure.” She stepped inside and got in line to place her order. “How about I call Callen and see if he can meet us here?”

  “Good plan.”

  They’d ordered and were just capturing a table on the deck outside when Callen came in. She smiled, remembering one of her first encounters with him. He’d ordered vegetarian and lectured her about her choice in foods: hamburger, fries, and a milk shake. She hadn’t changed her eating habits much and doubted he had either. Marrying Callen would mean cooking for him, and he was into eating healthy. Which wasn’t a bad thing, but there were certain foods she couldn’t give up—not even for a guy like Callen.

  He settled on the bench next to Angel and dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. He might have preferred her mouth, but she had a straw in it.

  While they waited for their orders, Angel and Tim told Callen about Peter and Paul and their apparent quest to find Luke. When they’d finished, Callen removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll put out an alert, but I doubt it’ll do much good. The best we can do is hope the same person who went after Nick doesn’t go after them too. I just talked to Nick, and he’s fairly certain that the gardener who was at the funeral is the same person who tried to kill him.”

  Callen pulled a paper out of his pocket. “Here’s something you may find interesting. I borrowed a picture of Luke from your mother and asked one of our computer experts to age enhance it and generate photos of what Luke might look like today with a few extra pounds, a beard, and glasses.” He handed Angel a faxed reproduction.

  She stared at the photo, tears gathering in her eyes. “That’s him. That’s the guy at the funeral.” She handed the photo to Tim. “Why didn’t I go to him? Why didn’t I follow my instincts?”

  Callen squeezed her shoulder. “You couldn’t have known, Angel.”

  Tim, whose eyes had been focused on the photo, looked up at her. “I’ve seen this man before. At the church. I came into the sanctuary, and he was kneeling at the altar, praying.”

  “When?” Angel asked.

  “Um, I think it was around the time Dad had the heart attack.” He shook his head. “My own brother was here and I didn’t have a clue.”

  “You talked to him?”

  “No. If I had, maybe I’d have known. The minute he saw me, he took off. I thought he was homeless. I remember feeling a rush of compassion for him. As I think about it, I wonder if it could’ve been something else I felt. Maybe God was telling me the man was more than a stranger seeking refuge.” He sighed. “He seemed in a hurry to leave, and for a minute I thought I should go after him, but I didn’t.” Tim looked up at Angel, his eyes sad and misty. “God speaks, and we fail to listen. Guess we both missed the signals.”

  Angel swallowed around the lump in her throat. “What now?”

  “I’m distributing Luke’s picture,” Callen said. “He’s wanted for questioning, and hopefully we’ll get some response.”

  “He’ll be arrested?” Angel didn’t much like that idea, but Callen was right. Alerting the police nationwide was perhaps the best way to get to Luke before the killer did. She took the photo facsimile back from Tim, folded it in half, and tucked it into her purse.

  Their food came, and they ate—or tried to. As much as she loved the food at the Burger Shed, nothing tasted good. Callen and Tim had no problem devouring their meals, however. Callen had ordered tomato soup and a vegetarian sandwich with sprouts.

  Angel eyed Callen’s meal with disdain. “You do know you could be shamed out of law enforcement for eating a healthy lunch like that, don’t you?”

  He chuckled. “I’ve been teased a time or two, but I’ll take my chances.”

  She raised her hands in mock surrender. Tim, she noticed, had ordered healthier as well.

  She picked up a limp fry and dipped it in catsup but didn’t eat it. Sighing, she pushed her plate forward and got up. “I’m going home.”

  “I don’t think you should tell Ma about all this,” Tim said, holding his half-eaten turkey and cheese on whole wheat bread only inches from his mouth.

&nbs
p; “I wasn’t going to. She has enough to worry about. Talking about Luke would just upset her.”

  Callen caught her arm as she went to pass him. “I’m knocking off early today so I can get some more work done on the house.”

  She nodded, pausing to massage his shoulders. “I’ll pick something up at the store for supper.”

  “You don’t need to. I’ll cook.” He tipped his head back.

  “Good.” Though she didn’t much feel like having company, even Callen’s, she smiled. “That’ll be nice.”

  If Callen noticed her dour mood, he didn’t comment. He and Tim were talking about the remodel before she was even out of earshot. Angel hiked back up the hill to the church and climbed into her Corvette. Make that Luke’s Corvette.

  Instead of going home, she went back to the hospital. Nick had claimed he didn’t know where Luke lived, but maybe he knew where Luke had been staying while in Sunset Cove. The manager of the place had probably gotten Luke’s license plate number and ID. There had to be some way to find him, though at the moment her prospects seemed hopeless.

  NINE

  The watcher spotted his image in the window and had to smile. He had the perfect disguise. So what if the hair hadn’t turned out exactly as he’d planned. This was even better. He’d read once that one of the best ways to hide was to be obvious and flamboyant.

  He looked beyond his image to the hospital bed where Nick Caldwell lay. He’d failed with his first attempt to kill the cop, but he wouldn’t miss again. He’d had both men in his sights the day of the funeral, but he’d had to go buy that stupid camera, and when he’d gotten back to the motel both their cars were gone. He’d driven all over town trying to find them.

  He rubbed his hands together. His boss was getting impatient. It had taken him a couple of days to find Caldwell and figure out what to do. His plan had been perfect. No way should that cop have lived. He could’ve sworn Caldwell had died out there on that deserted road. Fortunately, the papers had kept him informed. And he had taken his time to devise another plan. Caldwell wouldn’t survive this time.