She pulled into the parking lot and as always admired the stone structure. The church had been built in 1896 and was as sturdy today as it had been back then. The steeple, with its bell tower and ornate cross, reached toward the heavens, ringing every day at noon and on Sunday mornings and for special occasions. Angel loved the sanctuary with its stained glass windows that blessed everyone present with rainbows of various sizes and shapes when the sun shone in.
The pianist was playing a medley of contemporary songs as Angel entered. She headed up to the Delaney pew, the second one on the left, where Susan was standing with the girls. Heidi and Abby scrambled around to sit on either side of their favorite, make that only, aunt. Or was she their only aunt? Luke had a family, or so he’d told the woman at the hotel. If what he had told the woman was true, the girls had another aunt and a cousin.
Rachael joined them and sat next to Heidi.
“Did you get anything?” Angel mouthed over Heidi’s head.
Rachael nodded and pulled a folded page out of her bag. Handing it to Angel, she whispered, “We’ll talk after church.”
If I last that long. Too curious to wait, she opened the page. There were dozens of subscribers in Idaho. A long list in Sun Valley, Boise, and Coeur d’Alene. None of the names in Sun Valley looked remotely familiar. But then, what had she expected? Luke had to be using an alias. He’d used Hal Perkins’s credit card, but that had apparently been to throw off anyone who might have spotted him.
After church, she’d go by the hospital to see Nick and show him the lists. Maybe he’d remember something about his and Luke’s conversation. She folded the paper and tucked it into her bag and leaned toward Rachael. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Just don’t ask me how I got it.”
TWENTY-TWO
Cade hadn’t been to church since the age of ten, when life as he knew it had fallen apart. He sat there now, in the last row, watching Angel walk up the aisle and settle into a pew near the front. His father had been murdered when Cade was a kid, and immediately after, his mother had ceased to exist, at least mentally. She’d withered up, drawing deeper and deeper inside herself until she finally committed suicide two years later. He and his brother had been split up and adopted. They’d gone their separate ways in more ways than one. Cade seldom thought about his family anymore, or about his childhood.
The sanctuary with its stained glass windows and the ornate crucifix brought the pain tumbling though the black holes of his mind. He twisted the ruby ring that had once been his father’s. He’d taken it out of his mother’s jewelry box, and she’d never noticed. He wasn’t certain why the ring had seemed so important at the time; he only knew that owning it had somehow worked to help him survive his youth.
But he hadn’t come here to reminisce or to worship. He’d come to watch and listen to Angel Delaney.
TWENTY-THREE
Church seemed especially long, and even though Tim did a great job talking about the great commandment, to love one another, Angel couldn’t wait for the final hymn. Once they began filing out, she talked briefly to Susan and Rachael and hugged Tim when he greeted them at the door.
“Where were you this morning, Angel?” he asked.
She frowned up at him. “Here?”
He smiled. “You weren’t hearing a word I said. Missing Callen and Ma already?”
Not exactly. But she wasn’t really lying when she said, “Guilty as charged. I’m wondering where my next meal is coming from.”
“Come have dinner with us. It’s been a while. And we should talk.”
“Actually, I’m going by the hospital to see Nick. Thanks for the invite, though.” Angel moved through the crowd, and after chitchatting with several people who asked about her mother, she ducked out and hurried to her car.
Between the guard and the nurses, getting in to see Nick took well over ten minutes. When she finally entered the room, he was clean shaven and had his tubes out.
“Wow! You clean up good.”
“All for you, Ange.”
“Yeah, right.” Angel rolled her eyes at the use of his nickname for her. She’d long since given up trying to correct him. “When’s Rosie coming in?”
“In about an hour.” He yawned. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”
“When will that be?” Angel dragged a chair closer to the bed and sat down.
“Not sure. Tomorrow, maybe. Depends on how I do walking around and keeping food down. So far so good.”
He still looked pale and seemed uncomfortable. “You’re still in a lot of pain?”
Glancing at his watch, he nodded. “It’s almost time for more medication.”
Angel nodded. “I won’t stay long. Have you talked to the guy who’s taking over for Callen?”
“No. Joe has, though. Right now they’re focusing their attention on Luke and that reporter.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then opening them, said, “I’ve always considered myself a good cop, Angel. But I... I couldn’t turn Luke over to the authorities. I really don’t want the cops to find him.”
“How much did you tell Callen about meeting him?”
“I did as you suggested. I told him the guy at the cemetery was Luke. Mostly because at the time I was afraid the guy who shot me would go after Luke too. I’d made a promise to Luke a long time ago that I’d never let anyone know that he’d contacted me.” He sighed. “If Luke is found... He told me that the hired gun who’d killed the witness and the guard in that hotel room had let him go, but not without insurance.”
“Right, and that the killer would go after me. You told me that already.”
“You and the rest of the family. Luke is as good as dead if he surfaces, and so are you. I don’t know how far the killer will go.” He touched the bandages on his chest. “I don’t know why he hasn’t targeted you yet. But I’m sure he went after me because I talked to Luke.”
“Do you know more than what you’ve told me?”
“No. Luke didn’t say anything about where he was living.”
Angel pulled the paper Rachael had given her from her bag. “I think I might have some ideas.” She paused. “Nick, I’m going to try to find him.”
“You can’t. It’s too dangerous. I was wrong to tell you to try.”
“It’s too late for that.” Angel stood and leaned over the railing to show him the list. “You know the police are going to find him sooner or later. When they do, the killer will know exactly where he is and how to get to him. Jail is not going to protect him, and you know it. I think Luke is in Idaho. Knowing my brother, he’s still getting the Oregonian. Remember how he had it mailed to Fort Myers when he lived there? That paper would be his connection to us.”
“That’s a long shot.”
“He came to Pop’s funeral. How else would he have known about it?”
“You have a point. He told me he’d visited your dad in the hospital too.”
“I wish he’d let us know.”
“He couldn’t do that without endangering you. As it is, he’s afraid you’ll be a target.” Nick looked at the list. “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”
“No.”
Nick groaned.
“I think Luke might be in Sun Valley. I know how much you guys liked going there.”
“Not Sun Valley.” Nick wagged his head from side to side. “He told me some things, and at the time I didn’t put anything together, but I’ve had a lot of time to think these last few days. He’s married and he has a little girl. His wife’s name is Kinsey.” He shook his head again. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”
“Please, Nick. I need to find Luke and warn him.” Angel gripped the railing.
He sighed in resignation. “We met Kinsey at camp one summer when we were both counselors. He was crazy about her. I may be wrong, but I’d start there. After the funeral—before I got shot—I looked her up. She owns the Summerfield Art Gallery in Coeur d’Alene.”
“Kinsey. He never mentioned
her to me.”
“I’m not surprised by that. You were in high school back then and busy with your own friends. By the time we finished working at the camp, it was time to go back to school. I never heard about her after that, but they must have kept in touch.”
She showed him the Coeur d’Alene list. “Any of these look familiar to you?” Angel asked.
He looked over the names. “Sorry. Like I said, he didn’t give me much information. He didn’t want to tell me anything, but his wife’s name slipped out when we were talking.”
“You’ve given me more than enough information. I’ll find him.”
“What then, Ange?”
“I don’t know.”
“Watch your back. If the killer knows Luke was here and if the same guy came after me, he could go after you too. And he could follow you to Idaho.”
“I know what he looks like. And I can make sure I’m not followed.”
“Yeah, the guy is ruthless. Look what happened to me—and that reporter.”
“Have you heard anything about that investigation?” Angel sat back in the chair and carefully tucked the paper with the names on it into a pocket of her bag.
“Joe said the OSP is working all the angles. No word yet as to evidence or who they might be looking for.”
“Callen said they had to look at Luke as a possible suspect.” Angel bit her lip. “He wouldn’t kill someone to protect his identity, would he?”
“Not the Luke I know—knew, but...” He shook his head. “No. Of course not. Luke’s still the same great guy he was before he disappeared.”
Angel nodded. “I hope you’re right.”
“When are you leaving?” Nick asked.
When? Now. Today. “I haven’t thought it out completely. Should I fly over? Drive? I’ll need my car,” Angel said, thinking aloud.
“It’ll take you seven or eight hours to get there.”
“I could leave right away. Thanks, Nick. I’ll keep you posted.” She got up from her chair. “One more thing: do you think I should tell Callen? I feel badly not keeping him in the loop.”
“Tell him what you need to. Right now all we have is a few leads. You can worry about telling Callen if and when you find Luke. If you do find Luke, let him know what’s going on and let him decide what to do.” Nick held out a hand to her. Angel grasped it and bent over the railing to kiss his cheek.
“Be careful,” he said.
Angel promised she would. She had to be. Luke’s life depended on it.
Before leaving she took a few minutes to check out the Summerfield Gallery on the Internet. It took only moments to find Kinsey’s website. She was listed as Kinsey Summerfield Sinclair. The artwork was impressive. She was located in the world famous Coeur d’Alene Resort and Conference Center. Checking out the white pages, she found Kinsey listed with Thomas Sinclair. Her heart beat far faster than it should have, and she could hardly breathe. Could Nick be right? Could the attractive woman featured as the owner be Luke’s wife? Angel’s sister-in-law?
After writing down the addresses and phone numbers, she closed down the computer and loaded up the car. Am I doing the right thing, God?
“I just hope I’m right and that Luke is safe,” she said to herself as she locked the front door. Climbing into her Corvette, she remembered Callen’s dog. Callen hadn’t asked her to take care of Mutt, but maybe he’d taken for granted that she would. She drove the half mile to Callen’s place and noticed a familiar white car parked out front. Angel rang the bell, and when the door opened, Mutt greeted her with his usual doggie enthusiasm. She scooped up the white wiggling bundle and cradled him in her arms. “Hey, fellow. Did you miss me?” He yipped, obviously telling her he had.
Callen’s sister, Kath, laughed. “I missed you too.”
“It’s good to see you.” Angel put the dog down and gave Kath a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I’m surprised Callen didn’t tell you. We agreed that I’d come down and house-sit while he was in Portland.”
“No wonder he didn’t ask me to take care of Mutt. I thought he assumed I would. I should’ve known he wouldn’t forget something that important.”
“You’ve got that right.” Kath headed for the kitchen. “I’m glad you came by. Would you like some coffee?”
“Actually, I was just leaving town. I thought I’d better make sure Mutt was being taken care of.”
“No worries. You’re leaving town too? What is this, a mass exodus? Do you guys know something I don’t?”
“Nothing like that. I have some business out of town.” Angel wished she could confide in Kath. She liked Callen’s sister and hated not being honest with her.
“Well, have a safe trip. Does Callen know you’re going?”
“We’ll be talking every day on the phone.” She gave Kath and Mutt another hug as she left. Satisfied that Mutt and Callen’s home would be well cared for, Angel headed north on 101 toward Lincoln City. On the way, she called Rachael to let her know where she was going.
“Call me twice a day so I’ll know what’s going on.”
“Twice?”
“Think of it as insurance. If you miss a call, I’ll call Callen. I don’t like you going alone.”
“All right, but I’ll be fine,” Angel said with much more conviction than she felt. Hanging up, she eyed the long line of cars behind her in the rearview mirror. She’d told Nick she’d be able to tell if she was being followed, but with so much traffic she’d have a hard time telling. On the other hand, traffic would thin out when she headed east from Portland. She’d just have to stay alert and watchful.
TWENTY-FOUR
Cade pulled off his earphones when Angel left Nick’s room.
It had been a long morning but worth the wait. Truth be told, he’d even appreciated Tim Delaney’s sermon. Too bad he’d never have that assurance of salvation Delaney talked about. Cade was too far gone to entertain thoughts of saving grace.
In his youth, he’d occasionally fancied himself becoming a pastor, like his father. Life had managed to destroy any chance of that. God had allowed a madman to murder his father, and for what? Cade never knew; no one did. The man had come into their home one winter night, waving a gun, screaming obscenities. He’d fired five times, then turned the gun on himself, and all the while Cade and his mother looked on, helpless, frozen in place.
His brother had been the one to call the police. He’d been in his room studying and heard the shots.
Over the years, Cade’s grandfather had talked about forgiveness, but how did one forgive such a brutal, unnecessary act? Anger and bitterness had driven Cade far from the church. Perhaps he was no better now than the man who had murdered his father. Some would say he was far worse.
Salvation? Humph. Cade had killed far too many people for that.
He brushed aside the memories and whatever remorse he might have felt. His task would be finished soon. Thanks to Angel, he had all the information he needed for now. He’d drive back to Portland, return the rental car, and fly into Spokane. With any luck at all, he’d arrive in Coeur d’Alene and get to Luke Delaney before Angel did.
TWENTY-FIVE
It was dark by the time Angel got to Coeur d’Alene. Despite the headwind and rain coming up the gorge, she’d made good time, having only stopped three times for gas and food and to use the bathroom. Her last stop was at the city’s first exit, where she stopped at a gas station to get directions. That had been ten minutes ago.
Now, she pulled into the lakeside resort where Summerfield Gallery was located. She’d start there and hopefully talk to Kinsey Summerfield Delaney. Or no, make that Sinclair. Kinsey was married to Thomas Sinclair. Angel had learned that much looking up the woman’s gallery on the Internet.
Where had Luke gotten the name? Did Kinsey know who he really was? If she’d known him back in college, how could she not?
Exhaustion had long since settled in, clouding her brain and bringing her close to tears. Leaving her car with t
he valet, she grabbed her one rolling suitcase and her bag, then walked through the door that the bellman held open for her.
She tossed a thank-you over her shoulder and made a beeline for the front desk. On the way, she passed several shops, lingering for a moment at the Summerfield Gallery. The knots in her stomach seemed to tumble all over themselves at the thought of seeing her brother again. If Nick was right and Luke had come here, then this was her sister-in-law’s art gallery. What was she like? Did Luke work here with her? When Angel came down for breakfast tomorrow, would she see him?
Don’t get your hopes up. This may not be him at all. You’ll find out tomorrow. Right now you need to get some sleep. Or at least some rest. Between the renewed adrenaline and the excitement of possibly finding Luke, she doubted she’d sleep all night.
The price of her room ended up being way beyond her budget. None of the smaller, less expensive rooms were available, but to her surprise, the desk clerk put her into an upgrade on the room for the same price. A nice gesture.
By the time Angel found her room, got into her pajamas, and brushed her teeth, she was more than ready for bed. Closing the curtains, she realized that her room overlooked the lake. Lights flickered in the harbor and across the dark water. “More than an upgrade,” she murmured. This was definitely in the two hundred dollar or more a night range. The room was spacious and had a couch and a chair as well as a table and a desk. Angel yawned and tossed back the covers. Her concerns about not sleeping faded into oblivion.
Angel awoke when someone knocked on her door.
“Housekeeping.”
The door opened, and a maid of Hispanic descent gushed out an apology in broken English. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—I knocked.”
As Good as Dead (Angel Delaney Mysteries Book #3) (Angel Delaney Mystery) Page 12