by Jana DeLeon
And finally, the weight of the entire conversation hit her, and she started to cry.
Luke gathered her in his arms and held her tightly as all the forward progress she’d made slipped silently away.
Luke insisted Alayna stay at his cottage that night. It wasn’t the best of evasive maneuvers, but she had to admit that it made her feel better even though she probably didn’t manage an hour of sleep, if that. She hated the feeling that she was being driven out of her space, and the cottage had started to feel like her place. So had the island. She’d allowed herself to start to dream again about opening a restaurant, about menus and furniture, and now, she was almost bitter with disappointment that Warren’s actions had ruined everything.
Again.
Luke claimed that it was his responsibility to cook breakfast since he was hosting her and his effort of eggs and bacon was appreciated, even though she wasn’t really hungry. She stirred the food around and took a couple bites but was unable to finish even a quarter of what he’d put in front of her.
“I guess I need to call Agent Davies,” she said when she finally pushed the plate away, done with all pretense of eating.
Luke nodded. “Just give him as little information as possible and ask the questions.”
She pulled out her cell phone. “I’m going to put him on speaker so you can hear too.”
Her hands shook a tiny bit as she found his number and dialed. He answered on the first ring.
“Davies.”
“It’s Alayna. I, uh, got a phone call from Carrie Winston. Is Brad dead?”
“Yes. Mr. Winston was apparently the victim of a robbery at his home in California.”
“That’s it? You don’t think it had anything to do with Warren?”
“Why would it? Mr. Winston was no more part of Warren’s crimes than you were.”
“I know that, I just…well, it’s a little unnerving when two people I was close to are now in the morgue.”
“I can see where that might be upsetting, but I have no reason to suspect that you’re in any danger. I sent one of my men to California to verify the police reports. But Mr. Winston’s death, while unfortunate, doesn’t stand out as something to be concerned about.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive, Ms. Scott. If the situation changes—and I don’t expect that it will—I’ll notify you immediately.”
“Okay, well, thanks.”
She disconnected and looked over at Luke, who was frowning.
“He sounded irritated and not overly forthcoming,” she said.
“Yeah, he’s definitely unhappy about the situation.”
“Then why isn’t he saying something? Am I really so expendable that he could lose two people associated with Warren’s case and thinks he won’t answer for it? I think he’s sadly underestimated Carrie Winston if he thinks that’s the case.”
“I agree. It’s not the response I expected. I figured he’d advise you being more cautious…maybe even suggest you relocate for a while until they verify that things are as they would like us to believe.”
A thought ripped through her mind. “Do you think they’re watching me?”
Luke’s jaw flexed. “If the FBI is using you as bait, they’re going to have to answer to more than just Carrie Winston.”
“Oh my God, I didn’t mean as bait, necessarily, but I guess that would make sense.”
“Sure. In a completely screwed-up FBI sort of way.”
“So what do I do now? I’m not going to sit around waiting for someone to do to me what they did to Brad, and hope the FBI is watching and that they’re good shots.”
“I don’t blame you.”
She propped her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands. “I can’t do this the rest of my life—looking over my shoulder every minute of every day, waiting for the other shoe to drop. And I can’t put Aunt Bea in danger by staying here.”
“Let’s not make any hasty decisions, okay? You have to go to the bookstore this morning and feed Shakespeare, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go and take care of that and anything else you need to do today and then we can brainstorm this. Maybe call Carrie and see if she’s learned anything new. Bea’s safe in New Orleans until late this afternoon, and no one is going to come after you in broad daylight, especially not with me standing next to you.”
She nodded. “You’re right. We don’t know for certain what’s going on. It’s possible that Brad was targeted for something other than his relationship with Warren. He’s wealthy and has a lot of pull in his industry, at least from what I understand.”
“And I’ve always heard that with construction, you sometimes run up against people who aren’t so interested in doing things lawfully.”
She drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “Okay. So we’ll go take care of Shakespeare and then we’ll talk this out some more and come up with a plan.”
And she said a silent prayer that the plan didn’t involve her leaving Tempest Island.
Again.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alayna unlocked the back door of the bookstore and she and Luke went inside. Shakespeare must have heard them because he was waiting just inside, ready to inform them of how hungry he was.
“Stop faking,” Alayna said as she reached over to scratch the cat’s ears. “You don’t get to eat this early when the bookstore is open, so I don’t want to hear it.”
Luke laughed. “How come Bea doesn’t have Shakespeare at her house?”
“She tried. He came wandering into the bookstore one day when the weather was nice and the doors were propped open. Bea fed him and took him home with her, but every time she let him outside, he came right back here and sat at the front door until she arrived. So she started leaving him here and now he doesn’t wander. I think he likes having all the high places to climb onto and observe from.”
“Yeah, I guess a bookstore would be a sort of cat’s paradise.”
“That and he really likes people. I think he was bored at Bea’s house all day.”
Alayna headed for the storeroom to grab a can of Shakespeare’s food but when she walked into the back room, she drew up short. Something was off.
“What’s wrong?” Luke asked.
“I don’t know. Something…maybe those boxes.”
She walked over to the corner where she’d stacked the boxes containing the kitchen stuff from Bea’s beach cottage and inspected them.
“These have been opened,” she said. “You can see where the tape has been lifted.”
“These were the boxes you used to move, right?” Luke looked confused.
“Yes. I packed up some of Bea’s kitchen things because I wanted to use my own and didn’t have room for both. But you can see where the first round of tape was, then where the second was lifted. The tape doesn’t line up to either set of lines.”
“You’re sure you didn’t un-tape it to add something?”
She shook her head and moved the two top boxes.
“Look,” she said. “These are the same. Do you have a knife?”
He nodded and pulled it out of his pocket. She opened one of the boxes and shifted through the contents.
“All of this has been unwrapped,” she said.
“You’re positive about that?”
“Absolutely. I mean, whoever did it tried to duplicate my work but clearly, he never spent summers working in a bookstore and wrapping gifts for people. Even when I’m packing stuff for storage, I can’t seem to get away from making the edges match.”
Luke frowned at the boxes, clearly worried, and she sucked in a breath.
“You were right,” she said. “He’s looking for something. He thought Brad had it, but he didn’t. That’s why he was tortured. And neither do I, but he’s not going to believe me either, just like he didn’t believe Brad.”
The speed with which she spoke increased with every word until she was practically breathless when she f
inished. And beyond panicked. Luke took her arm and guided her to a wooden crate where she sank down onto it before her knees gave out.
“He’s been in the cottage,” she said when she got her breath back.
Luke narrowed his eyes at her. “Have you seen something suspicious?”
“No. It was a feeling. Right after I arrived. The night I ran into you in the pizza place. When I got back, things felt off, but I couldn’t find anything wrong. But he was in there. I just know it.”
She was getting worked up again, and he put his hand on her shoulder.
“I believe you,” he said. “You’ve been neck-deep in this for a long time and your instincts are very developed now. If you think someone was in your cottage, then I believe they were. Did you feel unsettled while you were driving to the island from New York?”
“Yes, but I never saw anything. I just assumed it was my nerves, which are shot.”
“I think your nerves are working just fine given the situation. I’m going to hazard a guess that someone has been following you and watching since you left New York. Think about it. He went through your cottage when you went for pizza but hasn’t been back since we installed the alarm. And he had to have seen you transfer the boxes to Bea’s bookstore and knew what they looked like or he would have trashed this place. Instead, he only disturbed the boxes you put here, right?”
She looked around the room. “You’re right. Oh my God. He’s been watching me this entire time. He could have put a bullet through me any time I stepped outside.”
“I don’t think that was on the agenda. I think he thought he was going to get his answer when he snagged Warren. But apparently, he didn’t get the answer he wanted from Warren either.” Luke shook his head. “And you know what, we’re not stating this entirely correctly. There’s no way the same person grabbed Warren in New York, killed Brad in California, and has had eyes on you in Florida.”
“I’m sure Rivera has plenty of people to do his bidding.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“But what is he looking for? I don’t have anything. I mean absolutely nothing of Warren’s. I sold all my designer clothes, handbags—everything he gave me—at consignment shops so I could pay rent. Anything personal of his, like his hairbrush or clothes, I threw away.”
“Could anyone have searched your apartment in New York?”
She considered that for a couple seconds, then shook her head. “I don’t see how. It was one of those buildings that you had to have a code to get in and there was always an attendant up front. You had to have a special key to get up the elevator.”
“What about deliveries?”
“Left with the attendant. He’d call after they were dropped off and if it was a case of something like food delivery and you were ill or injured, then he’d bring it up to you.”
“What about maintenance?”
“It was the same two guys the entire time I lived there. Both much older men and from chatting with them, they’d both worked in the building for over a decade.”
Luke shook his head. “Everyone has a price, but given what went down with Warren, I can’t see someone sticking their neck out to assist someone in entering your apartment.”
“Which means he didn’t have an opportunity to search my stuff until I came here. But now that he has, he knows I don’t have anything of Warren’s.”
“I’m pretty sure Brad didn’t either—especially in his house in LA. It seems like they’re getting desperate. Taking Brad down in his own home was a huge risk.”
“I’m next, right? That’s the only logical conclusion. But why Brad before me?”
“If someone was in the cottage right after you arrived, then you were already on Rivera’s watch list. He just made a move on the one he considered more likely to have what they’re looking for. Brad, with all his money and connections, would be able to make use of information Warren could give him, whereas you wouldn’t know what to do with a list of offshore bank accounts, for example.”
“These boxes hadn’t been tampered with when I was in here yesterday. That means he was in here last night. And since he didn’t find what he came for, he’ll be back. And he’ll do the same thing to me that he did to Brad.”
Luke knelt down and put both hands on the sides of her face. “That’s not going to happen. Nothing is going to happen to you on my watch.”
“I have to leave. If I stay here, he might go after Bea to get to me.”
Luke started to shake his head, but she could see the uncertainty in his expression.
“If you leave, he could go after Bea to force you to return,” he said finally.
“Shit!” She jumped up and started pacing, unable to remain immobile. “Shit! Shit! Shit! I should have never come back here. I brought a killer to her doorstep.”
“Don’t panic. We can handle this.”
“How are we supposed to handle this? I’ve got a target on my back and if I leave, then I push that target onto Bea. This is exactly the nightmare I worried about all those months in New York and that the damned FBI assured me wasn’t a possibility.”
“Yeah, well, you know how I feel about the FBI.”
“You still think they have a traitor in the agency, don’t you?”
He nodded. “Even more so now than before. Think about it. The FBI searched Warren’s place, yours, his parents, Brad’s, and your restaurant, right? And if they’d found anything, then Rivera would know that because his mole would have told him. The fact that he’s still looking for whatever it is in your belongings and at Brad’s place in LA tells me that he knows for certain the FBI doesn’t have it and he thinks Warren hid it somewhere the agents didn’t come across it.”
“Then why didn’t Warren just tell him what he wanted to know when Rivera had him? If they tortured Brad, then God only knows what they did to Warren. Why didn’t he talk?”
“I can only speculate. Warren had to know that he was going to die either way, so maybe he figured he wouldn’t give Rivera the satisfaction.”
“Which only put them onto Brad and me.”
Luke shook his head. “Maybe that didn’t occur to him at the time. I can’t imagine it was a situation where he had time for much critical thinking.”
Alayna blew out a breath. “Okay. Then since someone was going through these boxes last night, they didn’t get what they wanted from Brad either. Which they believe only leaves me.”
“Could Warren have hidden something in your belongings? It wouldn’t have to be big. A tiny drive can hold a lot of account numbers.”
“Sure. I mean, in theory. He was in my apartment plenty and it’s not like I thought he was going to steal the china, so I didn’t watch him every second.”
“Then that’s our next move. We go through every square inch of your things to see if Warren hid something.”
“And if we find it?”
“Then we turn it over to the FBI.”
Alayna stared at him, a little surprised, then she understood. “Because the traitor in the FBI will get word to Rivera.”
He nodded. “And then the target is off your back.”
Mateo lowered his binoculars when Alayna and Luke went inside her cottage. As far as he was concerned, he’d missed opportunities to wrap up this job, but the client had told him to hold off while he tried one last avenue, so that’s what he’d done. Given that Mateo’s contact in California had informed him that Brad Winston had been killed during a robbery at his home, he assumed things hadn’t gone as planned. But that didn’t change his directive. He’d been ordered to sit tight. Don’t draw any attention. Just keep watch so that he knew the lay of the land when it was time to make a move.
All of this waiting was getting on his nerves.
Mateo was a man of action, not patience. A man of direct force, not finesse.
His cell rang and he saw the client’s number come up. About time.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Do you have her in your sights?”<
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“She and the neighbor went to the bookstore for about thirty minutes but they’re back now.”
“And you’re sure they haven’t caught sight of you?”
“I cruise by a couple times a day to get the lay of the land, but I don’t stay put. Every boat that wants to enter the Gulf has to pass this way, so there’s plenty of traffic. I’m pretty sure she stayed at the guy’s place last night. I could have searched then.”
“No. He’s military and on alert. He would have been watching for someone to make that move.”
“He’s going to be even more prepared awake.”
“I didn’t think you had a problem with such things.”
Mateo frowned. “I don’t have a problem with much of anything, but you’ve told me to stand down until you make the call, and I have.”
“Well, it’s time for me to change tactics. What I’ve attempted so far hasn’t worked.”
“You want me to move in and make it happen?”
“Not yet. I’m about an hour from the beach. I’ll meet you there.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Don’t worry about it. No one who can identify me will be alive to do so.”
Mateo smiled.
Finally. It was time for some fun.
Alayna stood in the middle of the cottage and looked around, no idea where to start looking for the unknown item that might or might not exist somewhere among her belongings.
“Where do we start?” she asked.
“We don’t have to consider everything. If Warren hid something among your belongings, he would only have put it in something that you were certain to keep. So that leaves things like clothes off the list straight away. Make sense?”
“Yes. So maybe start with pictures, knickknacks with sentimental value, that sort of thing?”
“Exactly. Which room do you want to start in?”
“I guess the bedroom has the most personal stuff but really, I didn’t have a lot to begin with. Apartments aren’t all that spacious in the city, so I didn’t bring much with me when I left the island.”