She looked up and met his eyes then smiled.
“This is scary as hell, but…”
“Spit it out, Detective.”
“I’m falling in love with you, Ashley.”
She rested her head against his shoulder again. “Well, Detective, you should have figured this one out. I’ve already fallen in love with you. I think it all started the minute I spilled that coffee on you.”
“Ashley, have we seen enough of the sunrise?”
She smiled. “You bet. You look good in a business suit, in your cutoffs…but man, when you’re wearing my pink robe…”
He let out a laugh, stood and pulled her to her feet.
The sun had risen fully by the time they fell asleep.
Late Sunday afternoon, they awoke. Ashley, opening her eyes, saw that he was already awake and staring up at the ceiling.
“What’s wrong?” she murmured.
He laced his fingers behind his head. “I keep thinking about who Marty’s partner was. I keep trying to do the Sherlock Holmes thing. You know—eliminate the impossible, and what’s left, no matter how implausible, has to be the answer. I can’t seem to eliminate anyone.”
“From…?”
“Being on the Gwendolyn. Being the money—and power—behind the murders and the drugs.”
Ashley hesitated. “Sharon has been acting very strangely.”
“Sharon?” he said skeptically.
“You don’t think it could be her? She’s got money—don’t know how much, but her wardrobe is probably worth more than what a cop makes in a year. She was the one who sold those properties, and she was the first one to recognize Cassie Sewell from my drawing. Are you doubting she could be guilty because she’s a woman?”
“No, I’ve known too many brutal and cunning acts perpetrated by women for that. And you could be right,” he said. Suddenly, he rose, heading for the shower. He spun to face her. “Don’t you dare join me. We’ve got to get started.”
“Started doing what?”
“Eliminating the impossible.”
Ashley was grateful that Katie was working, because she was able to get both Nick and Sharon to join Jake and her in the living room. Sharon was all maternal, asking if she was all right, telling her how she’d hardly been able to sleep after hearing what had happened.
Ashley thanked her for her concern, then plunged right in. “What’s been going on with you?”
Sharon stared at her, going pink, then turned to Nick.
“Sharon, why were you really in my room?” Ashley demanded with exasperation. “What were you planning to talk to me about? And what was your appointment yesterday morning?”
“Oh, Ashley, I—I went to the doctor’s office yesterday morning. I couldn’t believe it at first, and I was so afraid of how Nick and you would feel, but…I’m pregnant.”
Ashley blinked. “Pregnant?”
“Nick and I are going to have a baby.” She paused to meet Nick’s eyes, basking in his smile. “I know I shouldn’t have been in your room, but I thought if I could get to know you better, get a sense of the private you, I could get closer to you, and then maybe you wouldn’t mind so much that…”
She was definitely still overtired, Ashley realized. And so relieved. She burst into laughter. She laughed so hard that tears stung her eyes.
“Oh, no, Nick! She is upset. Ashley, I know Nick’s been like a father to you since you were a little girl, and you’ve been like an only child…”
“I’m not upset,” Ashley managed to say at last. “I’m relie—” Jake stared at her sternly. She caught herself and started over. No need to let Sharon know she had been a suspect, however briefly. “I’m elated. I’m thrilled for you both. I can’t wait to have a little cousin.” She rose quickly, hurried over to Sharon and hugged her tightly. “I couldn’t be happier.”
Nick, looking slightly embarrassed, rose to accept her hug. “It’s scary,” he said huskily. “I’ll be bald and on arthritis medicine by the time the kid graduates from high school. But…I’m thrilled. And I’m thrilled that you’re thrilled.”
“We’re all thrilled,” Jake said, rising as well. “Sharon, Nick, congratulations. Is there any decent champagne in that bar of yours, Nick? My treat.” He slid an arm around Ashley, who was still shaking with relieved laughter.
Sharon begged them both not to say anything yet. She was nervous about carrying the baby and didn’t want to make any announcement until she had passed the first trimester of her pregnancy. One way or the other, though, she and Nick had decided to get married. They were planning the wedding, which would be very small, on a Sunday morning, right there on the docks, in three weeks.
Jake and Ashley promised to keep their secret, then agreed to stand up for them at the wedding.
“What now?” Ashley whispered to Jake.
“Let’s go fishing.”
“Is that a Sherlock Holmes thing, too?”
“No, it’s when you throw a baited hook in the water, and try to catch fish.” He grinned. “I need to clear some cobwebs. Fishing always helps.”
That night, when they’d come in with a nice supply of snapper and a few kingfish, Jake returned to his place, showered and put a call through to Ethan Franklin.
“I need your help. You’re a computer whiz. I need you to find out everything you can about a couple of guys.”
“You got it. And on this one, I’ll even work nights and Sundays.”
“Thanks, Franklin,” Jake said, and gave him a list of four names.
On Monday morning, when Ashley walked into work she was smothered with hugs and congratulations both on being alive and on her part in the huge bust. She demurred, reminding them that she hadn’t exactly solved anything; she’d been kidnapped from the hospital, sedated, along with Stuart Fresia. Captain Murray walked by and barked at everyone to get back to work—they were the police department, they were supposed to be solving crimes. But as everyone scattered, he set an arm on her shoulder and said three all-important words. “Good work, Montague.”
Later that afternoon, while she was in the darkroom, there was a tap at the door. The entire forensics department was standing there, along with several members of her one-time trainee class. They’d gotten her a cake. And she was awarded a little banner Gwyn had made on her computer, declaring her an honorary member of their graduating class.
Monday night was great. Stuart was up and walking, so the two of them, along with Jake, Karen, Jan, Len and even Mary—who had dressed up for the occasion—were able to visit with John, but only for a few minutes. His nurses were strict. “Leave it to me to get the battle-ax,” John moaned. “But once I get out of here, if I’m not under arrest, well, I’ll be free. Really free, like I haven’t been in years.”
“And what then?” Jake demanded.
“I’m going to write one hell of a story,” he said.
Stuart cleared his throat.
“Okay, so we’re going to share a byline,” John said, and they were all able to laugh.
They went to dinner as a group when they left the hospital. And then, for Ashley, there remained the wonder of being a twosome and returning to the Gwendolyn with Jake.
It was the next night, about seven, when they were arguing over the proper method of cooking the snapper they had caught, that Jake suddenly went silent.
Ashley frowned.
“Someone’s out there,” he mouthed.
He walked silently to the door and threw it open.
Brian Lassiter stood there, his hand raised as if he had been about to knock.
“Hey. Have you got ESP, Jake?”
Jake shook his head. “Heard you coming.”
“Oh.” He glanced in and saw Ashley. She had seen him a few times at Nick’s and knew he had been Nancy Lassiter’s husband, but she didn’t know him at all.
“Hi, Brian. I’m Nick’s niece. Ashley.”
“I knew you looked familiar. Hi, how are you?” He looked at Jake again. “Can I come in?”
Jake open
ed the door wider.
“Want a beer?” Jake asked.
“Soda—I’m driving.”
Ashley went to the refrigerator for a Coke, then brought it to Brian. He nodded to her with a small smile and looked at Jake. “I came to say thanks.”
Jake shook his head. “No need to thank me for doing my job, Brian.”
“Yeah, there is,” Brian said. “I loved her, and it hurts just a little bit less to know the guy who did it won’t be doing it again. And I know I owe you an apology.” He paused, then went on resolutely. “You may doubt me, and that’s all right, but I’m quitting drinking…and I’m going to get married again. I hope you’ll come.”
“Congratulations, Brian,” Jake said.
“Ditto,” Ashley agreed. “Hey, want some snapper?”
Brian looked a little uneasily at Jake. “I…Hey, why not?”
So he stayed. And though Jake was courteous, he was quieter than usual.
When Brian left, Ashley asked Jake what was wrong.
“He’s rich,” he said simply.
“He’s an attorney,” she reminded him.
“Yeah.”
“Do you still hate him for hurting Nancy?” she asked softly.
“No,” he said after a moment. “We all hurt her.” He turned away, retreating to his desk, then into the bedroom. Ashley decided to take care of the dishes. Later, she tiptoed into the bedroom. She was startled by the strength of his arms when he grabbed her.
Later that night, his phone rang. He rose and padded out to the living room, and she heard him speaking for several minutes. When he returned, she asked him what was going on.
“It was Franklin, my FBI guy. He’s gathering some information for me.”
“Oh?”
He lay down beside her, pulled her close again and shrugged ruefully. “You’ll be happy to hear that Brian Lassiter’s finances are as clean as a whistle. He’s a shark, out to get what he can, but he’s a legitimate shark.”
She smiled in the darkness. She was happy, because she was certain the knowledge made Jake happy.
She knew he was still deeply disturbed, though. Thus far, the questioning of the men taken into custody during the drug bust had revealed little. They were all from South America, as were the drugs, and they denied knowing who had paid to get them into the U.S. or who was dealing the drugs in the States.
In other words, they still didn’t know who’d been working with Marty.
“The answer is right there, in front of me. How can it be happening so close without my seeing the truth?” he asked her softly.
“You can’t let it drive you crazy.”
“I can’t stop it,” he admitted.
She let him be.
The following morning, she woke early, kissed Jake and told him she had to run back to her room to get ready for work. He mumbled something, and she left him, pausing to switch on his coffeepot before she left. Just then his phone started ringing, and she heard him pick up. She was curious who it was, but she had no time to waste.
She let herself out and sprinted across the lawn to her room, then quickly showered and dressed in the browns that were her forensics wear.
Her hours were later now, but it seemed that she was always running a few minutes late anyway.
Maybe they should set the alarm a few minutes earlier.
They…
She liked that concept. It was very nice being they.
She hurried into the house, wondering if Nick had risen yet.
No. He and Sharon were sleeping later, too. She smiled, thinking it would be fun to tease Sharon about it being natural for old pregnant people to sleep late.
In the kitchen, she switched on the coffeepot, wondering why they didn’t just buy a pot that turned itself on automatically. She drummed her fingers until the coffee began to drip, then moved the pot and slid a cup in its place, shaking her head at the mess she made but determined to have a quick cup of coffee anyway.
It was light. For a moment, all she saw was a figure in the doorway, eerily reminiscent of the black-robed figure she had seen standing on the other side of the highway at the scene of Stuart’s accident. The figure moved, and she gave her head a shake. It was just Sandy, and he was actually wearing a pair of trousers, a polo shirt and a jacket.
“Hey, Sandy,” she said, “I’m running out. Nick and Sharon are sleeping. Help yourself to coffee, and make sure you lock the door on your way out. I’m running late, as usual.”
“It’s love,” he told her.
She shrugged. That’s what happened when you lived at a marina. Everyone knew your business.
“Hey, did Jake ever get anything back from that fingerprint fellow the other day?” Sandy asked.
“No, just prints of people he’d known had been there. You really do know everything that goes on here, don’t you? Were you down at his boat when Skip got there? Did Nick have you let him in?”
“Naw. I just saw the guy from my boat. Well, too bad for Jake. It must be driving him crazy, knowing he’s still missing a piece of his puzzle.”
He’s still missing a piece of his puzzle.
That wasn’t common knowledge. Of course, around here, people talked. Sometimes, too much.
“It is. See you, Sandy,” she said, and headed out the door. As she started to close it, she looked toward the water. From where she stood, she could see Sandy’s boat. Jake’s was much farther down, across from her wing of the house.
Sandy couldn’t possibly see the cabin door of Jake’s boat from his own. Of course, he might have seen Skip leaving with his oversized briefcase. And he might be lying, he might have been down by the end of the docks, just being nosy.
Suddenly she remembered standing just where she was now, talking about cops.
I listen to the cops in Nick’s place, he had said. He knew them all. Jake Dilessio hadn’t come around all that much until he had moved his boat, and yet Sandy had been able to tell her all about him.
Air seemed to escape from her lungs in a whoosh. Sandy? Impossible. He was a fixture. He was…ancient.
I listen to the cops in Nick’s place.
Right. He talked to them all the time. He was always with one of them. No one would ever notice if he spent time talking with Marty Moore. No one would ever realize he was listening because he needed to know what was going on with the Miami-Dade force.
As the thoughts crossed her mind, she became uncomfortably aware that he was behind her. She stiffened, then started to turn, but stopped when she felt a gun against her ribs.
“Does that beat all or what?” he said quietly. “All this time, and I slip up on something really ridiculous. But that doesn’t matter. I didn’t come for coffee this morning. I came to get you. You barely gave yourself away, Ashley. If I hadn’t come specifically to take you for a nice long ride, I’d have had to wonder if you actually figured it all out or not. You see, I’m all set to fly away, Ashley. Far, far, away. I’ve taken things here as far as it’s safe for me to go. Made some good money, that’s for sure. But…it’s gotten way too hot. It started to unravel when that friend of yours didn’t die on the highway like he was supposed to. Then there was Bordon. I should have had him killed years ago. Counted on Marty, though.” He laughed. “He was a damned good partner. Got shot and went down without giving me away. Someone else is going to figure it out eventually, though, maybe soon. Dilessio, probably. Too bad I couldn’t have killed him. Ashley, no work for you this morning. You’re coming with me. Be real good and quiet, and I might let you live.”
“When I don’t show up for work, people will start looking for me. In fact, when they see that my car is still here—”
“It won’t be here. You’re doing the driving. We’re going, Ms. Montague. Now.”
She didn’t protest; she had just seen an entirely different side of a man she had thought she knew well. His voice was different, the way he talked was different, even his stance was different. It was as if the years had dropped away.
&nbs
p; “Where am I driving you?”
“An airstrip.”
She took a deep breath, twisting slightly, trying to get a glimpse of the gun.
“Glock,” he said. “City of Miami has been known to issue them, but maybe you’ve never handled one, since Miami-Dade doesn’t much like them. No safety. Pretty powerful weapon. It gives a clean kill.”
“Want me to call in late to work?” she asked, trying to overcome her sense of shock and fight down a rising wave of desperate fear. She had thought Marty was cold-blooded, but the change in Sandy was more than chilling. Marty had done the killing. Peter Bordon had conspired with him. But this was the man who had given the execution orders.
“You’ve got a cell phone. We’ll call from the road. We should really go, before Jake or your uncle shows up. I need one hostage, not two. I won’t blink to shoot either of them, and I think you know that.”
She had no chance of living if she went with him, and she knew that, too. But the thought of him seeing Jake or Nick—or Sharon!—and shooting them like dogs was far too vivid in her mind.
“Hey!” came a sudden cry. She was startled to see Jake, wearing only bathing trunks, come walking around the far edge of the terrace.
The gun jabbed more deeply into her ribs. “You’ve got two seconds to get rid of him,” Sandy said. “Cry out and you’re both dead. Trust me, a Glock is a damned good weapon. I can kill two people in a matter of seconds.”
“Sandy, hey,” Jake said, smiling pleasantly. “The coffeepot on the Gwendolyn is broken. What the heck did you do to it, Ashley?”
“What did I do to it?” she repeated.
“Did you make coffee?” he asked. “Sandy, look at you. Spiffy. Hey, did you come by for coffee, too?”
“Coffee’s made,” Ashley said quickly.
“Great. I’ll just go pour myself a cup. Have a good day at work.”
Sandy had maneuvered her just outside the doorway, hiding the gun with his body. Jake was smiling as he started past them. “Sandy, why don’t you have a cup with me?” he asked.
“Can’t, I’m in a hurry.”
“Oh?”
“As a matter of fact, Ashley was going to drop me at the bank on her way to work.”
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