A sharp slam sounded from ahead, and she realized that a young woman in a nurse’s uniform had just gotten out of her car. Ashley still hadn’t moved. The woman offered her a smile as she passed by.
Ashley gave herself a shake and started walking again. She heard an echo of footsteps. Not sharp, just an echo…as if someone was being as furtive as possible. She stopped and turned and looked around, fingering the strap of her bag. She still had the gun on her. “Who is it?” she called out, spinning around.
Again, nothing. She started walking once again. And again she heard the footsteps….
She was almost at her car. She could hear the sound, growing closer, close….
She stopped, pulled the gun out and spun around, both hands on her weapon, just as a car came around the corner. The woman driving widened her eyes and let out a scream. Ashley quickly lowered the weapon, damning herself.
“It’s all right, police business!” she shouted, wincing. Police business? Like hell. She was a forensic artist, not a sworn officer of the law, wielding a weapon in a public garage. She had to get a grip.
She stopped and then…
Heard the footsteps. Flat and hard, coming from behind her. She turned, her hands still on the gun, but she didn’t raise it.
Thank God.
She let out a sigh. “Len! What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on guard duty. You scared the hell out of me.”
“Me! I scared you? You’re the one with a gun. Are you still supposed to have that weapon, Ashley? Shouldn’t you have turned it in when you went civilian?”
“Yes, I have to turn it in.”
“What happened? Was there another incident? Why are you so spooked?”
“Why aren’t you on guard duty?”
“My replacement came early, so I came chasing after you for a ride home, since I got dropped off in a patrol car today. Now, your turn. What are you doing with that gun?”
“I thought I heard…”
“Ashley, even assuming someone was following you the other night, they have to be long gone by now. Why are you still so afraid?”
“Because there’s still something seriously wrong where Stuart is concerned. I know it. And I’m afraid someone doesn’t want me pursuing it.”
“Wow,” he murmured, looking at her eyes. “You really are worried.”
“I’m all right. I’m just going to find out what is going on.”
Len looked around the garage. “Ashley, you’ve got to be careful with that gun. This is a busy place.”
“No, Len, it’s not. Not when it’s late. Then it’s a big place full of shadows where you have no idea who might be skulking around behind the cars.”
He sighed. “You working tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“They’re going to make you give that gun back.”
“Yes, I suppose they will. Len, if you need a ride, come on.”
“Sure.”
She clicked her car open and they walked the few feet remaining to reach it. Len settled in next to her. “You’re very mysterious, you know.”
“Just tired.”
“Tense. Want to stop somewhere for a drink?”
“I never drink and drive.”
“You can drink, and I’ll drive.”
She found herself cracking a smile at last as she looked at him. “That wouldn’t help. This is my car. You’d be stuck at Nick’s.”
He looked straight ahead. “I wouldn’t mind being stuck at Nick’s.”
Ashley caught her breath, keeping her eyes on the road. “Len…”
“Yeah, I know. You were too busy with the academy to be interested in a relationship. Well, you’re out of the academy now.”
“And starting a new job. The training is overwhelming.”
“Overwhelming. Right. You know how many times someone gets offered a position like that out of the blue? When dozens of people would love to have it? You may find you’ve made some enemies, Ashley.”
She frowned, feeling his bitterness. “I also spent my first day as a civilian employee in the morgue on one of the most god-awful assignments I may ever get. And for your information, I worked my ass off in the academy, and I’ll be working it off again now!”
“Right. Getting buddy-buddy with the big-time detectives.”
Her breath caught. His manner was strange, as if she had betrayed him in some way. “Forensic artists probably do work frequently with the detectives. It only makes sense.”
“I think we both know what I mean.”
“What do you want me to say, Len? I never wanted to hurt you, but I never encouraged you. Besides, I have a gorgeous friend who’s crazy about you, and you’re completely cavalier about her.”
“Karen,” he murmured.
“Yes, Karen.” She took a breath. “Len, look. I guess it’s good that we’re having this out. I like you. You’re a good guy, and I’d like to be your good friend. But…”
“I’m not man enough for you, is that it?”
“Len, what is the matter with you?”
“Sorry.” He looked straight ahead. “Man, I am being a jerk.”
“Karen is nuts about you, you know.”
“Oh, yeah. Karen.”
She shook her head. “Len…where am I taking you?”
“Just drive to Nick’s. I’m off duty. I’m going to have a drink.”
“And how are you going to get home?”
“There’s this thing called a taxicab. If all else fails, I’ll call one. Don’t worry, I won’t be coming after you to give me a ride later.”
“I don’t mind giving you a ride, but…”
She hesitated. But she had things to do tonight.
“I’m just really tired tonight,” she told him.
“Ashley, it doesn’t matter. I told you, if all else fails, I’ll grab a cab.”
“All right.”
She drove to Nick’s and parked. Len was still stiff as he got out of the car. He followed Ashley as she walked across the terrace and into the bar. Katie was behind it.
“Are Nick and Sharon back?” Ashley asked.
“No, sorry. They haven’t returned yet.”
Ashley nodded, hiding her disappointment. She slid around behind the bar to get Len a beer, hoping he would have a drink and lose his grudge, then head on home. She noticed that he was at the counter between Sandy and Curtis. The three of them were already talking about an accident that had occurred that day on the Palmetto Expressway.
He thanked her for the beer. She nodded, and said hello to the others. Then she asked Katie if things were all right, and when Katie assured her that everything was completely under control, she slipped on through the back to the house.
For a long moment she stood in the living room.
Sharon.
Sharon Dupre had sold the property to its current owner. She had nearly dropped clear through the asphalt. And now, when she really needed to talk to Sharon, she and Nick had apparently decided on a long romantic evening out.
She walked to the door of her uncle’s bedroom, wondering if Sharon had some kind of filing system in the house—she spent almost all her time here now. But she didn’t want to impose on her uncle’s domain. It didn’t seem right.
She didn’t walk in. Instead, she crossed through the house and went into her own room. As soon as she stepped through the door, she had a strange feeling. Her pillow had been moved. A drawer in the antique nightstand was just slightly ajar.
Frowning, she leaned against the door.
Maybe she was just going off the deep end. She sat down and dialed David Wharton’s number but only got his answering machine. Frustrated, she hung up without leaving a message. Then she tried calling Karen and got her answering machine, as well. As soon as she hung up, a call came through. It was Jan.
“Jan, hey, I needed to talk to you,” she said, and went on to tell her friend about the plug being pulled at the hospital, about Nathan’s initial reaction, and then, how they had
gotten off-duty officers to guard the room.
“Well, thank God, because I know I didn’t trip over anything,” Jan said indignantly. “And there should have been police officers watching him all along.”
“Actually, I don’t think our convictions are being overlooked.” She was amazed to find herself defending those who were investigating the accident.
“It’s just that the police are having a very hard time. No one saw anything, just a guy in his underwear on the highway. And you can’t begin to imagine the number of accidents that happen every day in this county.”
“Not too many that involve a guy in his underwear wandering on the highway,” Jan reminded her. “And they must realize now, since someone attacked Stuart in the hospital, that he knows something that will put someone in jail.”
“Unfortunately, Stuart’s doctor really believes we were careless. No one but us thinks someone pulled that plug on purpose. Anyway, Stu is being watched over now.”
“Karen will go ballistic when she hears—actually, that’s why I called you. I can’t get hold of her. She called in sick, but I can’t get her at home, either.”
“I know. Strange, isn’t it?”
Jan giggled. “Maybe she got her cop. Maybe they went off to have a romantic fling.”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen the cop. Len is here, at the bar, right now. He went to work, and then after work he came in for a few hours to be the cop on duty at the hospital.”
“Oh,” Jan said, perplexed.
“Maybe we should go to her place.”
“It’s not like we haven’t seen her in forever,” Ashley reminded Jan.
“With Karen, it is. She always returns my phone calls.”
“Mine, too,” Ashley admitted. “Maybe we should take a drive over to her house.”
“I’m working tonight. I just took a break to call you. Do you think…you don’t think anything is really wrong, do you?”
“No, of course not. Listen, I’ll just take a drive over and check on her, in case she’s so sick she’s not answering her phone. Although, actually, maybe we should just give her parents a call. Maybe she’s with them for some reason.”
“I already tried that. I played it casual. I didn’t want to get her mother worried.”
“I’ll just drive over, then.”
“You have a key to her house? Because I do, if you don’t.”
“I have a key. And I know the alarm code, too, so I’ll be fine.”
“All right, then. I should be going with you. I don’t like you going alone.”
“I’ve had police training, remember?”
“Yeah, I know. But call me the minute you find out anything. I may not get the call right away, but I’ll check my messages every chance I get.”
“I’m sure we’re overreacting.”
Jan was silent for a second. “If the cop had disappeared, too, I’d say she was off being romantic. But you said you know where the cop is.”
“Yes, I do. I just left him sitting there. But I’ll go ask him if Karen said anything to him about taking off, and then I’ll take a ride out to her place. I’ll call you after I’ve gotten there and just leave a message if you’re in the middle of a set.”
“Great. Thanks.”
They hung up. Ashley started out of the room, then hesitated. Nothing was missing, things were just…moved.
She was definitely getting obsessed with little things. Maybe Nick had been in for some reason. She didn’t lock the door. Maybe Sharon had been in. Sharon, who had sold the property at the address that had been found scratched on a piece of paper belonging to Stuart Fresia, who was in the hospital, fighting for his life.
And now…Karen.
Reflecting on the state of her room wasn’t solving anything. Feeling for the gun in her handbag, she hurried on out.
Jesse didn’t seem to mind traversing the waterways, giving up his time for what might be a major miscalculation on Jake’s part. They spent hours on the airboat, returning at last to Jesse’s place deep in a hammock off the Trail. A private, unmarked road led to the house, so only those who’d been invited even knew there was a dwelling behind the trees.
Jesse offered him food and drink, since they’d been out a long time.
“What have you got?” Jake asked him.
Jesse laughed. “What are you expecting? Finger porridge—koonti root goop? Nope, sorry, nothing ethnic. I’ve got ham and cheese, salami and cheese, or corn flakes. I think there’s some fruit.”
Jake opted for a sandwich over corn flakes, and made it himself while Jesse dragged out maps of the tip of the state.
Spreading the maps out on the table, Jesse said, “So your meeting with Peter Bordon has gotten you thinking the cult idea is a blind?”
“I think it’s an idea. Think about it. We’ve had men checking out every religious group we can find, giving special attention to any group new to the area. The most we’ve found are some questionable Santeria groups, but we’re looking for people who kill other people, and so far, our Santeria groups are only guilty of chicken sacrifices. So far we haven’t found anything that remotely smacks of the kind of cult Bordon was running. And we don’t even have any proof that his cult was involved in those killings. Bordon was never indicted for murder.”
“True. Still…most people believe he ordered the killings.”
“I believed it, too.”
“You don’t believe it anymore?”
“I believe he was involved. But I’m starting to doubt my conviction that he was the mastermind. The latest victim was a Realtor. Her properties were all on the edge of civilization. Bordon’s place was also in that area. The only connection I can think of is that all the properties are along waterways that can be reached through the Everglades. We both know that smugglers, murderers, thieves and worse have taken sanctuary in the Glades. We’re talking expanses that no one has ever been able to patrol completely. So I can’t help thinking the case has to do with something coming into the country.”
“Drugs? They’re the most prevalent. People, smuggled in to get around the INS,” Jesse said. “Arms. The weapons trade is massive.”
Jake nodded. “Running weapons calls for large scale transportation. Same with people. I’m betting on drugs.”
“I’ll have my people keep an eye out.”
“My money says we’re talking heroin or cocaine, where small packages mean big money.”
“Like I said, we’ll be watching.”
“Great, thanks.”
Leaving Jesse’s, Jake frowned, checking his phone. It hadn’t rung in hours. The damn thing didn’t work out in the swamp—no cell towers around. He had to drive east for thirty minutes before he could access his own messages.
Franklin had called in, as had Marty, but nobody had anything to report. Uniformed officers were combing the area with the sketch, trying to find locals who might know something about the victim’s last days.
His third message was a startling one. He didn’t know the voice, nor did he recognize the name. The man spoke in a hushed and nervous tone.
“I’m calling on behalf of Peter Bordon. He wants to talk to you. Without fanfare, if you know what I mean. Bring a posse and it’s off. He’ll talk to you and only you.”
That was it. The nervous, unknown caller had hung up.
Len was still at the bar, sandwiched between Sandy and Curtis. After a couple of quick hellos, she got to the point. “Len, has Karen called you by any chance?”
He shook his head. “Should she have called me? I just saw her last night.”
“She didn’t go to work today, and neither Jan nor I have been able to reach her by phone.”
“I’m sorry, I haven’t heard from her.”
“Did she say she had something to do today? That she was going to call in sick?”
“Ashley, I’m sorry, she didn’t say anything about it at all.”
“It’s all righ
t, thanks. I think I’ll go check on her, though.”
She turned away, slipping back through the office and into the house, then out through the kitchen.
In the car, she slipped Karen’s house key onto her ring before turning her own key in the ignition, so she wouldn’t get there and be scrambling to discover what she’d done with it.
Leaving the marina behind, she told herself that she and Jan were being alarmists. It wasn’t an emergency because someone had missed one day of work and didn’t seem to be home. And yet, it was true that Karen always returned their calls.
As she passed the lights of the city, she thought for a moment that Miami was truly beautiful by night. Night hid the areas that weren’t so nice. Moonlight fell on the waterways and added an aura of soft mystique.
And yet, it was under cover of darkness that so much of the city’s crime took place.
First Stuart. Now Karen.
No. She refused to believe that anything had happened to her friend.
But when she drove up to the house, Karen’s little Toyota was right where she kept it in the driveway. Both sides of her property line were bordered with cherry hedges. A large poinciana tree took up much of the front lawn. Karen had planted bougainvillea all around the little trellised entrance to her home. Everything looked the same as always. So why wasn’t Karen answering her phone?
Ashley stared at the house for several seconds before getting out of the car. There were lights on inside, but they were dim. She got out of the car at last and headed up the walk. The outside light that usually lit up the entrance area was not on. She found herself gritting her teeth as she stared into the shadows of the trellised entryway, silently cursing Karen for not leaving the light on.
She was an almost-cop, as David Wharton had dubbed her. She still had her gun in her shoulder bag.
Before trying the key, she rang the bell, banged on the knocker and called Karen’s name. There was no reply. At last, she got out her key and twisted it in the lock. Opening the door, she called out for Karen again. Still no reply.