COLLATERAL CASUALTIES (The Kate Huntington mystery series) (23 page)

            They both jumped when an elderly voice said, “You two lovebirds buy that old shack from Fred?”

            Skip quickly positioned himself between Kate and the old man standing ten feet away. Blue eyes squinted at them from a wrinkled face turned leathery tan by hours in the sun. His cheeks and head were covered with gray stubble. He wore faded jeans and a plaid flannel shirt that looked almost as old as he was.

            In his peripheral vision, Skip saw two shadows emerging from the trees. He made a slight gesture with his hand. His men retreated.

            “You all ain’t exactly dressed for roughing it,” the old man observed. They were still wearing the clothes they’d worn to work the day before.

            Skip opted not to try to explain their attire. “Are you one of our neighbors?”

            “Yup, live right over that little rise, near the main road. Where are my manners?” He stepped forward, rubbing his right palm against his jeans, then reached out to shake Skip’s hand. “Name’s Sid Pierce.”

            “Uh, Steve. Steve Williams, and this is my wife, uh, Sally Mae.” Skip grinned down at Kate. “To answer your question, Fred lent us the place for a few days.”

            “Please ta meet ya, ma’am,” Pierce said, still eyeing their inappropriate clothing. Then he shrugged.

            “Have you lived here long, Mr. Pierce?” Kate asked.

            “All my life. Born just a few miles from here. I’m a waterman, mostly retired now.”

            Kate smiled at him. “So I have you to thank for all those delicious crab cakes I’ve eaten through the years.”

            “Yes, ma’am, some of ’em, at least. Well, I better be gettin’ back ’fore the missus thinks I fell in the bay. You all need anything, just holler.” The man started walking down the dirt road away from them.

            “Pleasure meetin’ you, sir,” Skip called after him.

            Pierce turned back toward them. “Where ya from, son? Can’t place that ax-cent.”

            “Texas.”

            Pierce chuckled. “So it’s true. They really do grow everythin’ bigger down there.”

            “Yes, sir.” Skip smiled at the old man.

            But his expression quickly sobered once the man had turned away again. “Rosie’s gonna be hoppin’ mad.”

            “Why?”

            “Our guys didn’t know Pierce was taking a stroll through the woods.”

            “They are a bit out of their element, out here in the boonies,” Kate said.

            They started back toward the shack. Skip’s left arm was draped over Kate’s shoulders, but his right hand was now resting on the butt of his gun behind his back. He nervously eyed the woods around them.

            “I think you need to leave town until we get this mess resolved,” he said.

            Kate stopped walking. Skip nudged her forward. “We need to get back to the cabin. If the guys missed Pierce, they might’ve missed somebody else.”

            That got her moving again. “I can’t leave town, for a variety of reasons. First, where would I go that would be truly safe? Second, I have clients depending on me, one of whom is suicidal at the moment.”

            They neared the porch. “We’ve tightened the perimeter, sir,” a tree said quietly.

            “Good,” Skip said.

            “It should be safe to sit out here on the steps then,” Kate said. “Rob’s probably still asleep.”

            They settled gingerly on the wobbly steps. Kate took Skip’s hand between both of hers. “Sweetheart, if I go away,” she said quietly, “I’m not sure I’d be any safer. I definitely wouldn’t
feel
safer. I’d be scared to death in some hotel room, not knowing what was going on.”

            He drew her against his chest. “I know it’d make you crazy, but you would be safer, if we could spirit you away to someplace these guys would never think to look. When I almost lost you last year...” The words caught in his throat. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered.

            Kate leaned back in the circle of his arms. “They seem to be just as determined to get you. Besides you’re always the one telling me that we can’t protect each other from life.”

            Skip snorted. “This is hardly normal life.”

            “True.” Kate stared off into the woods for a moment. “I wonder if God’s testing us, trying to get us to realize that one of us is bound to die before the other.”

            “Not necessarily. I was thinking maybe we’d do a Thelma and Louise off a big cliff when we’re in our eighties.”

            Kate smiled as she shook her head. “Nope, even in their forties, that would traumatize the kids.”

            “Now that’s hard to wrap one’s mind around. Edie and Billy in their forties.”

            “Do you miss them, Skip?”

            “Every minute.” He looked down at her. “Claude, eyes front and center while I kiss my wife,” he called out.

            “Yes, sir,” the tree replied.

~~~~~~~

            Inside the back room of the cabin, a cell phone rang in Rob’s pocket. He sat up on the edge of the cot and answered it, his voice rough from sleep. Rose’s words brought him fully awake.

            Covering his eyes with one hand, he said into the phone, “This is going to tear them up.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

            Kate was still smiling at Skip’s Thelma and Louise fantasy when they walked back inside the cabin. She stopped. Skip froze beside her. Rob was sitting at the table, his expression grim. In a voice gruff with emotion, he said, “Sit down, guys.”

            Kate’s heart thudded in her chest. “My God, what’s wrong?”

            “Janice...” Rob stopped and cleared his throat. “She’s dead.”

            They stared at him in stunned silence. Then Skip stumbled over and sat down hard in one of the chairs. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

            Tears pooled in Kate’s eyes, threatening to blind her. This couldn’t be real. Shaking her head, she stepped over behind Skip’s chair and put her hands on his shoulders.

            “What happened? Where the hell were her guards?” Skip said.

            “Best to call Rose and let her explain.” Rob picked up the phone lying on the table. He hit redial, then put it on speaker.

            “Hernandez.”

            “Skip wants to know what happened,” Rob said.

            Rose told them about Lilly finding Janice, the note, the doctored wine, and that Janice had stopped breathing an hour ago.

            At the words
stopped breathing
, Kate’s tears broke loose. She dug her fingers into Skip’s shoulders, struggling against the urge to sob.

            Skip banged his fist down, making the phone jump. Then he crossed his arms on the table and dropped his head onto them.

            The pressure was building in Kate’s chest. Her ears started ringing. She thought she might faint. She moved to one side and sat down in a chair, leaving one hand on Skip’s upper arm. Without lifting his head, he covered her hand with his own.

            “So we’ve got a bogus note and a doctored bottle of wine to check out.” Rose’s voice shifted from sympathetic to matter-of-fact.

            Kate looked across the table at Rob. His eyes were worried but he took the hint from Rose’s tone. “If we’re still aiming for acting normal during the day, I’d like to go to my office today. I’ve got a case coming to court next week I need to prep for.”

            Skip lifted his head. His jaw was clenched. “That building’s concierge might know something. I’m coming over there to interview him.”

            “I’m not staying here by my...” Kate’s voice broke. She blinked hard and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I need to get us some money for supplies for the weekend. It doesn’t really matter if the bad guys trace my debit card to an ATM in Towson.”

            After a beat, Rose said, “Skip, bring Kate to the agency first. I could use her help with some stuff.”

~~~~~~~

            As she and Lilly walked to the hospital parking lot, Rose called Manny. After filling him in on Janice Browning’s death, she said, “You drive Skip’s truck. Wrestle the keys away from him if you have to.” She disconnected, then called the agency office.

            Dolph answered, “Canfield and Hernandez.”

            “Janice Browning’s dead.”

            There was a long silence, then Dolph said, “Damn it to hell! Is there anything I can do?”

            “Yeah. Skip’s on his way to her place. Head over there. 3943 York Road. Try to keep him from killing anybody who doesn’t deserve it.”

            “I got the address for the Secret Service and the name of the person we should direct that letter to.”

            “Good. Leave it on my desk.”

~~~~~~~

            There was only one suspicious-looking car, containing a dark-haired driver wearing sunglasses, parked near the front of the agency’s building. No one was watching the back. After escorting Kate in the back entrance and up the fire stairs, Manny drove Skip to Janice’s apartment building.

            Skip was hoping the concierge today would be the same one who had been on duty the previous day. It would be a lot more complicated if they had to track the guy down.

            It was the same young man, and Dolph was standing next to his desk.

            Skip frowned, then nodded at the older man. He pulled out his private investigator’s license and introduced himself to the concierge, whose small green badge, pinned to his shirt pocket, read
Phillip
.

            The young man recognized him. “Yes, sir. You’re one of Ms. Browning’s guests. How is she doing?” His expression was worried.

            “She didn’t make it, son,” Dolph said.

            The concierge’s face paled. He shook his head. “I can’t believe she killed herself. She was so happy yesterday.”

            “Yeah, well we need to talk to you about that.” Skip’s tone was harsher than he’d intended as he struggled to control his emotions. “We need to see her apartment too.”

            Phillip’s eyes went from Skip’s face to Dolph’s, then back again, as if he were assessing their motives. Finally he said, “I’ll have to accompany you, sir.” He motioned to a nearby security guard to take over the desk.

            “Stay down here,” Skip told Manny. “Watch the door.”

            On the ride up in the elevator, he said to the concierge, “Mrs. Browning had a bottle of wine with her when she came home yesterday. Do you know where it came from?”

            “Yes, sir, a delivery boy brought it in right before she got here.”

            “From the wine shop in this building?”

            “I assumed so,” Phillip said. “Although it wasn’t the regular delivery person. He said it was a gift for Ms. Browning and he gave me a verbal message for her. Lemme think. Something about parting amicably and having good memories.”

            “From Richard?”

            “Yes, sir. That’s the name the kid said.”

            “You said he wasn’t the wine shop’s regular delivery person,” Dolph said. “Can you describe him?”

            Phillip nodded. “Normally it’s one of the women who works in the shop. But this was a black kid I’d never seen before.”

            “A kid? Don’t you have to be over twenty-one to handle alcohol?” Skip asked.

            The elevator doors opened on Janice’s floor and the concierge led the way toward her door. “Now that you mention it, the guy couldn’t have been twenty-one. He was more like sixteen or seventeen.”

            There was a hasp and padlock on the apartment door, above where Lilly’s kick had splintered the doorframe. Phillip pulled a small key out of his pocket and unlocked the lock.

            Dolph put out a hand to hold the young man back as Skip entered the apartment, on guard in case it had gained any unwanted occupants since the night before. After clearing the rooms, the two men returned to the living room. The only evidence of the wine bottle was a red ring on the breakfast bar. No sign of the note.

            “At least the cops took Rose seriously enough to preserve the evidence,” Dolph said.

            “Seriously about what? What’s going on?” Phillip asked.

            “She didn’t kill herself. The wine was doctored with Xanax, to make it look like a suicide,” Skip said.

            The young man turned green and clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh, my God,” he whispered.

            “It’s not your fault. But we need to find that kid.”

            “He was tall, real thin. Skin tone halfway between milk chocolate and dark. His hair was in corn rows tight against his head. He was wearing a white shirt and dark dress slacks. Kind of fidgety in his clothes. Like they were new, maybe scratchy. And they didn’t fit him real well. Pants were too short, shirt kind of baggy.”

            Skip was impressed. “That’s a very detailed description of a kid you saw for maybe five minutes.”

            “Less than that. He didn’t stick around. But that’s part of the job. You gotta notice every little thing. The concierge services and security are an important part of the package for our tenants.” Phillip stopped abruptly and dropped his gaze to the floor, swallowing hard.

            Skip put a hand on his shoulder. The guy was barely more than a kid himself. “Phillip, you did your job. There was no way of knowing the wine was doctored. We had a trained PI guarding the apartment, and she didn’t see any reason to be suspicious of the wine. Whoever did this figured out a very clever way to get past our defenses.”

            The young man nodded. They headed back to the elevator.

            In the lobby, Skip signaled to Manny and the three of them walked outside. “Let me guess,” Skip said to Dolph. “My wife bugged Rose into sending you as back-up.”

            “Don’t think Kate had anything to do with it. Rose told me to keep you from killing anybody who didn’t deserve it.”