Dead Aim

by Anne Woodard

  She also knew about loving. And making love. And laughing. That alone would have made him fall in love with her, forget about all the rest.

  Fall in love?

  The thought drew him up short. Not now! For God’s sake, not now!

  With a silent curse, he forced his attention back on Hoenig.

  “Tina had already e-mailed me a copy of the data she’d assembled for Jerelski,” he was saying. “She’d talked Shana into making copies of some of his business records, too. Data files, invoices, that sort of thing. Probably not admissible in court, but enough to get me started. Only…it disappeared.”

  “What do you mean it disappeared?” Maggie demanded.

  “Tina had packed a bag with clothes and books and things, enough for a couple days away, then left it there in the apartment while we hit the Good Times bar that first night. She swears she put a copy of her research notes plus the stuff Shana gave her in the bag with everything else, but it wasn’t there when she looked for it later on.”

  “Why the bar?” Rick interrupted. “That’s not the sort of place Tina would choose for a night on the town. Why go there?”

  “She wanted to point out someone she thought might be managing Jerelski’s dirty work because she figured I’d be able to find out more about him.”

  “And did you?” Rick had a sick feeling in the pit of stomach that he knew what Hoenig was going to say next.

  “Yes. I can’t prove it—yet—but I think she was right. The man’s name is Jason Taublib and—”

  Maggie sucked in her breath.

  “What?” Hoenig twisted around to stare at her. “You know Taublib?”

  “Taublib’s dead,” Maggie said flatly. “He was found last night, shot. And Jerelski very conveniently seems to have disappeared.”

  Rick couldn’t see the expression on her face, but he figured he didn’t need to. He figured he knew what it was, the same as he’d known what Hoenig had been about to say.

  For a moment Hoenig simply stared at her. And then he carefully shifted back around to stare blindly out the windshield, oblivious to the fact that his hands were still duct-taped behind him.

  For the first time since they’d followed him from the Good Times bar, Rick felt a certain sympathy for the man.

  Right then, Fritz Hoenig didn’t look particularly handsome, but he sure as hell looked dangerous. Frightened, though not for himself, and very, very dangerous.

  Fritz Hoenig was who he’d said he was. The confirmation came through fast enough, and from enough important sources, that Maggie suspected he was probably a lot more than what he said he was. Interpol, maybe, working undercover in that cozy little office in Berlin. The job of “art retrieval specialist” would make a very handy cover for any number of special operations.

  While they’d waited impatiently at the Fenton police station for the search-and-rescue dogs that were being brought in to look for Tina, he’d filled them in on the rest of the last two weeks.

  The weekend getaway that he and Tina had originally planned stretched to a week, then two after his contacts in Washington confirmed that both Jerelski and Taublib were under suspicion, but for drug-dealing, not art-smuggling. His contacts had asked him and Tina to stay low and not throw a monkey wrench in the drug investigation, and they’d reluctantly agreed.

  That those same contacts hadn’t informed her superiors in Washington of his existence was, in Maggie’s opinion, yet more proof that Fritz Hoenig was far more than some fancy, jet-setting P.I. Unfortunately, finding out just how much more would have to wait until they found Tina.

  One thing Hoenig hadn’t promised his contacts was to ignore the disappearance of the best leads they had to Jerelski’s illegal art dealings—the files and invoices that Shana had copied for Tina. Grace was the obvious suspect, but though Hoenig had searched the apartment three separate times, he hadn’t found the missing documents.

  A few nights spent tailing her, however, had revealed something Tina hadn’t suspected and Maggie and Rick had only guessed—Jerelski was providing Grace with drugs in exchange for information.

  “Jerelski must have realized that Tina’s research was a double-edged sword.” Hoenig absentmindedly rubbed his wrist where they’d cut the tape away. “Which is why he put Grace in the apartment to spy on her in the first place.”

  “Junkies make bad spies,” Maggie objected. “Their loyalty is to whoever can provide the next fix.”

  All the while he’d been talking, she’d been running yet another computer search in a desperate effort to track down that mountain cabin Jerelski might own. So far, she’d found exactly what Bursey’s people had found—absolutely nothing.

  “True, but he wouldn’t have needed to depend on her for very long. He must have known you were closing in on him and his operations. And if Tina’s information is correct, his art theft ring was getting big enough to be attracting some major attention, too. He probably planned on one or two more big scores, max, before he dismantled what he could and walked away from the rest.”

  “But he’s a respected university professor,” Rick objected. “An internationally known expert in his field. I’m no criminologist, but I do know academics and their egos. Jerelski sounds exactly like the type that craves the fame and glory as much as the money.”

  With each word he seemed to get angrier and angrier, but Maggie knew, better than anyone, that the anger was only there to cover up the fear. The waiting had been by far the hardest on him because there’d been nothing for him to do except listen to Hoenig’s tale, and worry, and wonder if any of this would have happened if only he’d somehow done something different somewhere along the way.

  She’d had to fight against the urge to go to him and offer what small comfort she could. He’d deliberately avoided looking at her. She’d tried to tell herself that she was grateful for his restraint, that it was better to keep a safe emotional distance between them.

  So far, she hadn’t come close to believing it.

  Hoenig didn’t seem to notice Rick’s suffering. Perhaps because he was suffering, too.

  Anyone could see that he was deeply in love with Tina Dornier. His fears for her safety had given him a haunted, hungry look and added a dangerous edge to his voice, but they hadn’t broken through the wall of reserve that seemed a natural part of him. Yet.

  “Jerelski is not going to happily walk away from the status and respect he’s gained as a professor and art expert,” Rick insisted. “He may have no choice now, but that’s just going to make him angrier. And more dangerous.”

  “Maybe,” Hoenig said. “I’ve run into more than enough art experts to know you’re right. But given the chance, I don’t know of many who would choose the glory over the gold. A few million dollars can be an effective balm for even the biggest egos.”

  Rick simply growled and stalked away to the window. The view outside was of a half dozen parking spaces and the building’s Dumpster, but Maggie knew he wasn’t looking at the view. There could have been a dozen gorgeous women out there dancing naked in front of the window and he wouldn’t have noticed them, either.

  The computer in front of her beeped, dragging her attention back to the records search the system had just finished. She sighed. Still no hit. And she couldn’t think of anything else that might work for Jerelski. Not a single blinking thing.

  Concentrate on what you can do, Manion, she told herself sternly, not on what you can’t.

  She arched her back, stretched, then settled back in front of the computer. Forget Jerelski. Maybe he hadn’t owned a cabin after all. Maybe that vague comment the art department secretary remembered had referred to someone else’s cabin. But whose?

  Maggie scowled at the patiently blinking cursor. Not another professor. There would have been no need for Jerelski to cover up the fact that he’d been another professor’s guest. A friend? Nope. Drug dealers and art thieves didn’t have friends, they had associates.

  Okay, then. Who was Dr. Nicholas Jerelski’s nearest an
d dearest associate?

  The answer hit like a bolt of lightning.

  Her fingers were typing the name even as it formed in her mind. She hit enter, then waited, scarcely breathing, as the system worked its magic. When the record finally came up on the screen, she stopped breathing altogether.

  Then she saw the legal details that identified the property. Subdivision, lot number, section, township and range. For a moment, she thought she’d gotten confused, that she hadn’t remembered the other information right, but when she pulled out the slip where one of Bursey’s people had written down some of the same details, she realized that she wasn’t confused after all.

  Still, just to be sure…

  She opened the paperbound, oversized book of maps that someone here had loaned her when she’d asked for a computer so she could run the search. The battered, dog-eared atlas included both roads and topographic detail for Fenton county. It only took a minute to find what she was looking for.

  When she finally started breathing again, she looked up to find both Rick and Hoenig standing there, staring at her like men who’d just spotted their best hope of salvation.

  “What’s the matter?” Rick asked.

  Hoenig was more direct. “What’d you find?”

  She printed out a copy of the property record, then grabbed the atlas as she stood.

  “Jason Taublib owned a two-bedroom cabin,” she said. “And it’s located less than a quarter of a mile from where Tina disappeared.”

  They didn’t wait for the dogs and handlers. Maggie gave the dispatcher the details, but they didn’t wait to hear if the call for the police backup she’d requested went out, either. Not even to confirm that the backup was to come in silently, without lights and sirens.

  Since several units had just been called to the scene of a major traffic accident with fatalities, and another two were tied down with a fight that had broken out at a bar on the edge of town, the dispatcher had warned them it might be a little while before anyone could respond to their request for assistance. They didn’t waste time worrying about that, either.

  It was sheer luck that they didn’t get stopped for speeding.

  “I don’t believe in coincidence like this, dammit!” Hoenig complained as Rick slowed to a mere ten miles over the speed limit coming into the sprawling, heavily wooded mountain development. He was leaning over the front seat, eyes fixed on the road ahead and clearly wishing he were driving, instead.

  Rick didn’t respond. He’d been tempted to open the door and pitch the SOB out of the truck ever since he’d climbed in. Blaming the man for Tina’s disappearance didn’t make any more sense than blaming himself, but a little physical violence would have been a welcome relief right about now.

  “Coincidences happen,” Maggie said. “Tina must have gone out for a walk and spotted Jerelski or his car.”

  “Or he spotted her,” Rick said grimly.

  “We’ll check out the house from the trees, then divide up and get as close as we can,” Maggie said. “I’m in command— And no arguments about it,” she added sharply when Hoenig started to protest. “As it is, I’m going to catch hell for letting two civilians assist and for not waiting for backup.”

  “You don’t have any choice in the matter.” Rick slowed, then cautiously turned into the drive of the house Hoenig had rented. Hoenig’s truck was still there. So far as he could see, nothing had changed since they’d last been here.

  “Doesn’t look like anybody’s home.”

  Hoenig was already slipping into the house when he and Maggie slid out of the truck. He reappeared in the open front door a few moments later and unhappily shook his head.

  The bottom dropped out of Rick’s stomach. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how much he’d been hoping that they’d find Tina here, miraculously returned, as though she’d just stepped out for a little stroll and taken her time coming back.

  Maggie nodded, then opened the atlas she’d grabbed from the station and spread it out on the fender of his pickup.

  Despite the urgency of what lay ahead, Rick couldn’t keep himself from studying her, just for a moment.

  Now that they were actually doing something, the weariness that had shadowed her eyes and slowed her step earlier had vanished. Her jaw was set, her mouth had thinned into a determined slash, and her eyes glittered with a determination that boded ill for Jerelski or anyone else who might want to harm his sister.

  The very sight of her reassured him and eased some of the fear that had been gnawing at him since this desperate search for Tina had begun.

  He’d often worked with women before. Talented, intelligent, determined women as capable and professional as their male counterparts. Women he’d trusted and respected and relied on.

  But never, until now, had he relied so much on anyone. Never had he trusted so far, or been so sure that his trust was not misplaced.

  The dying breeze teased at Maggie’s tousled curls, blowing them against her cheek and brow. Distracted, she brushed them off her face. When the breeze tossed them back, she simply ignored them and frowned down at the map spread out in front of her.

  Raw energy almost sparked off her, and for a moment, a very brief moment, Rick could almost feel sorry for Jerelski and anyone else who stood in her way.

  “If we go by the road, there’s always the chance that we’ll be spotted,” she said, her gaze still fixed on the map. “Judging from this map and from what we’ve seen of the area, it wouldn’t be that hard to work our way through the trees. No ridges or steep gullies or anything like that. But this area’s been developed for awhile, which means there’ll not only be a house on every lot, it means there’ll be fences and dogs and God knows what else that we’d have to get past.”

  “And all without alerting anyone to the fact that we are here,” said Hoenig dryly.

  “Exactly.”

  “Which means we go up the road.”

  Maggie nodded unhappily, then flipped the atlas shut. “And try damned hard not to be recognized.”

  She looked up then to meet the German’s level gaze. “Jerelski’s seen the police sketch of you. He knows you’re here in Colorado. If he has Tina—”

  Her gaze swung to meet Rick’s. He stifled his own doubts and gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod of understanding and support.

  Reassured, she turned back to Hoenig. “If he has Tina, then he probably also knows that you’ve been working together. And if he knows that, then he’ll be expecting you to come after him. And her.”

  Hoenig’s sculpted upper lip curled in a snarl. “I hope so. And if any harm has come to her—”

  “She’s fine,” Maggie said quickly. “She has to be. Jerelski needs to know what she’s learned and who she’s shared that information with. He can’t afford to harm her.”

  At least, not until she’s told him everything she knows. But after that, she’s expendable.

  None of them said the ugly truth aloud, but Rick could tell that each of them were thinking it.

  “Jerelski can’t afford to harm her,” Maggie repeated firmly. “And we can’t afford to waste time worrying about things that—for right now, anyway—are completely out of our control.”

  She dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out a black knit cap. “Have you got a hat, Fritz? Something to hide your face? Maybe a different jacket? Anything to make you less recognizable?”

  “In the house. Give me a minute.”

  Rick watched him go. Once Hoenig had disappeared inside the house, he turned to find Maggie studying him, her gaze level, her expression unreadable.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll stay here, wait for our backup,” she said.

  “No.”

  She nodded. “I didn’t think so. Promise me one thing, though. Promise me you won’t bring that weird pistol of yours, okay?”

  He opened his mouth to object.

  She held up her hand before he could say a word. “I’m quite sure you’re a good shot—probably
a heck of a lot better than me. But I’m a law enforcement officer. You’re not. If I shoot Jerelski, there’ll be an inquiry. If you shoot him, all hell will break out. So just leave the pistol, okay?”

  He sighed, then reluctantly agreed. “Okay.”

  “Not that we’re shooting anyone, of course,” Maggie added hastily. “But just in case.”

  “If he’s hurt Tina, I won’t need a gun,” Rick said grimly. “I’ll tear him limb from limb, instead.”

  That made her blink, then grin. “That’s okay, then. We can probably handle that.”

  He couldn’t help himself. Rick lowered his head and kissed her.

  It wasn’t a passionate kiss, and it didn’t last very long, but it was still potent enough to make his breath catch.

  Reluctantly, he pulled away. Not far, but far enough. Far enough that he could see that her eyes had gone wide and dark. Her lips had softened, parted. He wanted to kiss her again, but didn’t.

  “Thank you, Maggie Manion,” he said softly. “For everything.”

  And then he straightened. “You and Hoenig take the road. You’re going to need someone coming in from behind, so I’ll go through the trees.”

  She nodded, and backed away. Not far, but far enough.

  “All right. You might as well tear the map out of that book. You won’t do us any good if you end up behind the wrong house.”

  The three of them compared their watches and agreed on times, signals and what each would do, and how.

  “This is reconnaissance,” Maggie reminded them. “We’re not planning on taking the place by storm.”

  “At least not until we know where Tina is and make sure she’s out of the way,” Hoenig said.

  Maggie didn’t try to argue. She checked her gun one last time, slipped it back in her pocket, then started up the drive. Hoenig fell into step beside her.

  Rick waited until they were both out of sight, then retrieved the gear he wanted from the truck, checked that everything was in order, and set out through the trees after them.