As Good as Dead (18 page)

“Look, I’ve been trained to notice stuff. I’m a police officer.” She didn’t add that she was on leave. “All I did was notice a problem, and apparently there is one. Maybe the guy got scared off when he saw you guys come in.” Angel shrugged. Glancing at her watch, she added, “I’ve told you all I know. I’m in room 524 here at the hotel. If you want to talk to me again or need my help, call me. I need to meet someone right now.”

Denham still looked like he didn’t believe her, but learning that she was a cop seemed to put him more at ease. “All right. Thanks for the heads-up. We’ll keep looking.”

“Please let me know if you find anything. I’m worried something may have happened to the Turlock kid.”

“I will. And thanks again for noticing.” He smiled as he shook her hand.

Angel was more convinced than ever that the man posing as Matt was the same one who had shot Nick. How he’d known to come here, Angel had no idea—unless he’d managed to follow her.

I shouldn’t have come
.
I should’ve been more careful.

Maybe she had scared off the imposter by bringing in the cops, and maybe she’d bought her brother more time. For the moment, she needed to refocus. She took the cheap camera into the gallery and asked Kinsey where she could get the film processed. Kinsey offered to do it. “I can probably have it ready in about an hour,” she said.

“Great. I’ll go on up and see if Luke is back.”

“I’m sorry, dear.” The secretary lifted her hands in apology when Angel approached her desk. “He hasn’t come back. I called the pro shop, and he was playing today, but no one seems to know where he’s gone.”

The bald guy had disappeared, and Luke was out there somewhere. Angel’s stomach dropped out from under her.

“Don’t worry,” Eileen said. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon or at least call me. He probably met a colleague or something.”

“If he comes in, could you call me? I’m in room 524. And don’t tell him I’m here. I want to surprise him.”

“Of course.” Eileen’s maternal smile reminded Angel of her mother.

She’d called Aunt Gabby’s while on the road, determining that Anna had made it just fine and was relaxing out on the deck. Angel wasn’t used to juggling so many things at once. Now it seemed she had far too many plates in the air and they were all about to come crashing down around her. She’d need to call Rachael again, and Callen.

Angel hurried to her room with that purpose in mind. Coming to a small alcove on her floor, she had to maneuver around a narrow bend to get to her room. She heard a door close, and her heart slammed into overdrive.
Calm down, Angel. There’s no one here. The hotel is safe.
But was it? The man who’d been wearing Matt’s badge could still be there, waiting for her.

Angel shook her head to clear it. The hallway did seem a bit spooky, but there was no one around except a white-haired man with a cane. Angel smiled as he passed her and limped around the corner. At her room she inserted the key and glanced both ways before entering. Seeing no one, she decided she was safe enough.

What if someone is inside?
Angel hesitated.
A gun would have come in handy at the moment. If she’d had it with her, she’d have it drawn and would enter the room checking every detail. She did have her cell phone and her keys. Choosing the keys, she slipped one between each finger, making her fist into a weapon of sorts.

Just as she opened the door and stepped inside, she felt a rush from behind. An arm went around her throat, yanking her back and cutting into her windpipe.

THIRTY-ONE

A
drenaline rushed through her veins. Angel sank her teeth into her attacker’s bare arm and jabbed an elbow into his stomach.

He yelped and grabbed her around the waist with his uninjured arm.

Angel slammed a heel to his insole and twisted around, raking her keys down his face. He screamed and backed off, then took off down the hall, struggling to stay upright.

Angel grabbed her cell phone from where it and the rest of the contents of her purse had fallen to the floor and started after him. Punching in 911, she raced along the narrow passageway and into the waiting area near the elevators and the stairs. Her attacker was gone. She opened the exit door to the stairway and heard footsteps. “This is Angel Delaney,” she told the 911 operator. “I’m in pursuit of the bald man posing as Matt Turlock.” Angel gave her location. Once she arrived at the third floor landing, she no longer heard footsteps. She paused. Was he still in the stairwell or had he gone out at this floor or the one below?

On the landing below, a door crashed open. She headed down, only to be confronted with two officers, guns drawn. On seeing her, Officer Denham lowered his gun. “You okay, Miss Delaney?”

Angel sank onto the stairs, panting. “We missed him. He must have exited up there.” She pointed to the next level up.

“Go on!” Officer Denham barked the order to his partner. “I’ll stay with her.”

The second officer scrambled up the steps, reporting in on his lapel mike.

“Are you all right?” Officer Denham asked again as he settled on the stair beside her.

Her breathing was far more ragged than it should have been. “Yeah, but I hurt him a lot worse than he hurt me.”

“I’ll call an ambulance.”

“No. I’ll be all right. Just go catch him.”

“I think I’d better stay with you for now.” He rose and offered a hand, pulling her up. “We’ll need you to give us a statement. Um—when you’re up to it. Just take your time.”

Tears stung her eyes, and Angel used both hands to obliterate them. She tipped her head back. “He came at me from behind as I was going into my room. I bit his right arm and got his face with my keys.”

“Good thinking.” He followed her back up the stairs.

“I was ready for him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I got spooked walking through that narrow space just past the elevators, and, call me paranoid, I thought I’d better be ready, just in case. Besides, I have good reaction time. One of the best in my self-defense classes.” She hauled in a ragged breath and stepped out into the waiting area on her floor.

Denham nodded. “Any idea why he’d come after you?”

“He was eyeing me before. Maybe he thought I’d called the cops on him.”

“Which you did.”

“Right. Um—would you mind if I go to my room before I give you a formal statement? I dropped my bag and...”

“Sure. I’ll walk you there and make sure everything is okay.”

“Thanks.”

When they got to her room, the key card was still in the slot and the door was ajar, kept open by her bag. Angel pushed open the door and stooped to pick up her things.

“What’s this?” Officer Denham was hunkered down, picking up her wallet along with another object. He held a small silver device in his hand.

“I have no idea. I’ve never seen it before.”

“Looks like a bug.”

Angel took it from him. “You’re right. Someone must have planted it in my bag... but when...”

“Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to ask why?”

I know why.
Angel gripped the device tight in her fist. Maybe Baldy hadn’t followed her after all. Maybe he’d known where she was going because he’d heard her and Nick talking.

“There’s more going on here than what you’re telling us, isn’t there?” Denham asked.

She looked up at him. Did she dare tell him the truth? She had to. If Baldy had planted the device, he already knew that Luke was Thomas Sinclair. Had he already killed Luke? Was she next on his list? She sighed. Seeing no other choice, she said, “I’m afraid so.”

Officer Denham held out a hand.

“What?”

“You’d better give me the plant. Looks like it might be evidence.”

She nodded. “Right.” She handed it to him. “Is there a way to trace it? Could you send it to the Oregon State Police lab? I think I was still in Sunset Cove when someone planted it.”

“I’ll have to check with my boss.”

Angel stepped inside her room. It didn’t look as though anyone had tampered with anything. “Would you mind waiting for a few minutes while I freshen up?”

Freshen up? Where had that come from?
The words sounded so archaic. Her mother’s influence, no doubt. She needed to use the john, for Pete’s sake.

Angel took those few minutes alone to wash her face and settle her rattled nerves. She hadn’t called Callen. Maybe Denham wouldn’t mind waiting while she did that. He seemed more amiable now, and she sensed his approval in the way she had handled the attacker.

Exiting the bathroom, Angel asked if he’d mind waiting while she made some phone calls. “They’ll be worried if I don’t call,” she added.

“Sure, go ahead. I’m afraid I have some bad news, though.” He was standing at the window looking out over the lake. His gaze swung back to her. “We couldn’t find the guy.”

“How can that be? I didn’t make him up.”

“No one is saying you did. It’s a big place. He could have gone out on the lake or out the back or through the conference area. I’m sorry.”

Great. Baldy, aka the gardener, was still on the loose.

THIRTY-TWO

T
he watcher burst into his motel room and shut the door behind him, leaning heavily against it while he caught his breath. Anger tore at his insides and left him feeling raw and vicious. He clenched his teeth and shoved away from the door. The two-mile run to his hotel had only served to fuel his fury. He’d get that Delaney woman if it was the last thing he did, and he wouldn’t need money to do it. After calling her every name he could think of, he flopped on the bed. Seconds later he was on his feet again. He went into the bathroom to assess the damage. His arm still ached where she’d bit him. She’d drawn blood there and on his face. He’d have scars. He had never had scars—at least not where they showed.

Maybe he should just walk away from the whole thing. Let the guy who hired him in the first place get rid of Delaney. He already had ten thousand. He could take off for Mexico and...

No, ten grand wasn’t going to last long. He needed the rest of the money. And he needed to get Angel Delaney.

He turned on the shower, and when the water reached the right temperature, he stepped in. The water burned his open sores, stirring his anger again, helping him to better endure the pain.

The woman had marked him, and eventually she’d pay.

How was he going to disguise himself now? The cops would know to be on the lookout for a man with no hair and three scratches on his left cheek and bite marks on his right arm. Maybe he could find some kind of makeup to hide the scratches. He needed to get to a pharmacy. If memory served right, he’d passed one earlier, only a block or so away from his motel. He put on a long-sleeved shirt and baggy pants and a baseball cap, wishing now he hadn’t shaved his head.

He left his motel room and, with hands in his pocket, strolled nonchalantly down the block and into the store, always aware of the cars and the people around him. No cops. Hopefully they were all still scouring the resort.

He’d been stupid to think Angel Delaney was just flirting with him. He should have known, with her being a cop, that she’d trip him up. If only he hadn’t said he was new when he’d talked to her. She’d taken one look at that badge and known he was lying. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

In the pharmacy, he went back to the prescription area and told the woman working at the desk that his cat had scratched his face and was there something she could recommend.

“Just wash it really well, use some hydrogen peroxide, and keep it clean. That should do it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m supposed to go to a party tonight and...”

She smiled. “You want something to cover it up?”

“Is there something? That would be cool.”

“Sure.” She showed him some makeup and powder. He thanked her and picked up some other makeup items as well. The cover-up had given him a great idea. He wandered the store and eventually found some wigs on a discount table. He grabbed a blond one and took his items to check out. The cashier, a woman in her twenties with multiple ear and nose piercings, looked at the items and at him. “You a transvestite or something?”

“What if I am?”

She shrugged. “Whatever.”

Justin ducked out of the pharmacy and walked as fast as he dared back to the motel.

“A stroke of genius,” he said aloud some time later as he examined his handiwork in the mirror. Maybe he should consider a sex change. He made one heck of a woman. He chuckled. The makeup had worked perfectly, and you had to look hard to see the scratches.

“Watch out, Angel Delaney. I’m coming after you, and you’ll never recognize me this time.”

THIRTY-THREE

A
ngel dialed Callen’s cell phone number, not looking forward to the reaction he was bound to have to her being in Idaho.

“It’s about time you called.” He sounded perturbed. Had he somehow figured out what she’d done?

“I’m sorry. I’ve been pretty busy.”

“So I heard.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kath told me you were packed and heading off for somewhere. I guessed you’d gone looking for Luke. Any luck?” The annoyance in his voice had shifted to concern.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I’ve found him.”

“You’ve talked to him then? He knows the police are looking for him?”

“He knows, but I haven’t seen him yet. That’s part of the problem.” Angel told him about her talks with Nick, tracking Luke down, and meeting Kinsey. “Luke doesn’t know I’m here, and he’s gone somewhere. He hasn’t come back, and I’m afraid something has happened.” She then told him about the bug she’d found and the run-in she’d had with the would-be gardener from the funeral grounds. “He was using one of the employee badges, and that employee is missing. I don’t even want to think about what might’ve happened to him.”

Callen sighed. “I swear, Angel. What do you do—go around looking for trouble?”

Angel bristled at his tone. “That was uncalled for.”

He sighed again. “You’re right, it was. I’m sorry. Do you want me to fly out there?”

“I don’t see how your coming will change things. You don’t have jurisdiction here and—”