Hot Water (24 page)

“I have no control over them, but Yancey here could probably help.”

“She,” Grandel nodded to me again. I was beginning to wonder if he’d forgotten my name. “She thought showing a few people how safe this place is would be a good idea. I thought with the storm, we could shoot a little film, invite a few civilians to weather it out inside with us—under close monitoring, of course.”

Vincent nodded slowly. “Not a bad idea.”

“I have some media contacts that would love a story like that,” Yancey said. “Want me to stay and shoot the footage and voice-over?”

I should have been mad at Yancey co-opting my job, but instead I grabbed at the chance. It meant I could go home all the sooner—hopefully beating the storm—and I wouldn’t have to deal with Owen Grandel or Reverend Vincent anymore. A win/win for all concerned. The plant saved, the town saved, along with my sanity.

“Yancey’s very good at that kind of thing,” I said, waiting for lightning to strike.

“What do you say, Grandel? I’m in for 5 percent. Is it a deal?” Vincent asked.

Grandel twisted his mouth but then nodded. “Deal. I’ll draw up the papers, you get your people prepared. We can’t afford any naysayers, so you’d better deliver or this whole thing could blow up in our faces.”

“Don’t worry, I can control my people.”

Paul, Vincent’s assistant, knocked and opened the door. He hesitated, then took a step forward. “Reverend? Shouldn’t we just let God’s wrath deal with this heathen and his infernal machine? Why waste our time here?”

Vincent leapt from his chair, grinning. “You’re right, Paul. As always. We’re above all these mundane enterprises.”

He stalked out, leaving Yancey behind with me and Grandel. I rushed after them. “Wait, what about Liam?”

“What about him?” Vincent asked, as a security guard led us downstairs, where Vincent and Paul retrieved their cell phones and other personal property.

“Aren’t you going to ask Grandel to drop the charges?”

Vincent’s look of disdain made it clear that he wasn’t going to waste any precious bargaining chips on Liam. “The Lord will provide.”

Which translated to: Liam was stuck in jail. All because he tried to save me.

David remained frozen in place, trying to defy Einstein and push his own atoms into the vast subatomic spaces between the molecules of the brick wall beside him. On a strictly quantum mechanics level, it should have been possible, but all that he achieved was to shrink back into the shadow behind the plant a few centimeters more.

He had to warn his mom. But how? His cell phone was back in his room, and the last thing he wanted was to spend another minute here. Besides, with Mr. Masterson still sitting right there, he wasn’t sure he could move anywhere without being caught.

His mouth went dry. Would Masterson kill him, too? Was this all some kind of revenge, killing everyone in Mom’s family to avenge his son’s death?

Maybe it wasn’t even about Mom—after all, if he was totally honest with himself, he had to admit that he, David, was really the person responsible for Cole’s death. He was the one the bad guy had been chasing when Cole got in the way.

He closed his eyes, the better to deny that those were tears making his cheeks wet, and pressed his cheek against the brick wall, trying to block out the image of Cole dying. His dad. Dead. Because of him.

The bricks gouged into his skin. It hurt. Even so, it couldn’t compare to the pain he felt inside.

He’d only known Cole for a few days. No wonder Mr. Masterson had gone crazy after he was gone—and he must be crazy, trying to get nice people like Gram Flora and Jeremy and his mom killed. David tried to imagine the pain he’d feel if something bad happened to his mom.

Definitely enough to drive a person crazy.

The sound of a man’s voice brought him out of his reverie. It was Ty! What was he doing here?

Mr. Masterson was asking the same thing. “The boy is resting, if that’s why you came, Deputy Stillwater. Although I don’t appreciate your barging into my home this way. I’m perfectly capable of caring for my own grandson. Certainly better than that mother of his.”

David risked a peek through the plant’s branches. Ty stood on the other side of Masterson’s desk, looking down on the old man. He looked angry—you could tell because his face was a blank, like he’d wiped it clean of emotion and forced everything back. The only other time David had seen Ty look that way was when his dad died.

Mr. Masterson should have been scared by that look—David was—but he didn’t seem to notice, instead kept his head down, fiddling with some papers on his desk like Ty wasn’t even there.

“Actually, Mr. Masterson,” Ty finally answered, “I’m here investigating an attempted murder.”

“Really? I thought you’d already caught the man who tried to kill Flora—that gay nurse, right? What happened, did he slip away?” Mr. Masterson smiled as if he’d made a joke.

Ty didn’t return the smile. “No. But we’re still investigating. New evidence has come to light.”

“Really? What kind of evidence?”

David frowned. There was no new evidence—Ty had as much as said so before the lawyer guy dragged David over here.

“Mr. Masterson.” David could practically hear the fake-smile in Ty’s voice. “Even though you’re good friends with the Sheriff, I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation.”

“Then why exactly are you here, Deputy?”

“It occurred to me that there haven’t been any unexplained accidents like this in Scotia since the night ten years ago when AJ Palladino almost died. I’m sure you remember that night. You were the last person to see her before she was forced off the road by one of your coal trucks.”

A long pause. Masterson squared off the papers on his desk and leaned back, regarding Ty. “That’s not what the authorities concluded at the time. The official cause of that accident was attempted suicide by a disturbed young woman. There was no evidence of any other vehicle, certainly none of mine, being involved.”

As interesting as the conversation was, David realized that this was his chance to escape. While Ty kept Masterson’s attention occupied, he could slip back around the house. Ty must have parked out front—or maybe better, near the rear of the house where there were lots of trees. He didn’t have Nikki with him, which meant she must be with the Tahoe, so he would have wanted to park someplace where she could wait safely.

All David had to do was make it to Ty’s car and he could get out of this place before Masterson knew he was gone. Then he and Ty could go save his mom.

Before it was too late.

TWENTY-FIVE

I followed Vincent and Paul outside. The wind was blowing so hard that the rain had turned horizontal, slicing through the air like karate chops.

“Paul, would you kindly get the car?” Vincent asked.

The younger man nodded. Before he could head out into the storm, the door behind us opened. Morris rushed out, clutching his messenger bag as always. “AJ, great! You’re just the person who can help me.”

“What’s wrong?” I had to raise my voice to be heard above the wind. And this wasn’t even the hurricane, not yet. I had a hard time imagining how bad things could get when Hermes hit.

“The shelter I erected for the protestors collapsed. The guards are busy clearing the debris from the road. Can you help me get everyone to safety?”

“Of course.”

“We’ll help, too,” Paul volunteered. “We can carry a bunch in the Escalade.”

“Now, wait a minute, Paul,” Vincent interrupted. “I’m not sure we should interfere—”

“Oh, it’d be a blessing, Reverend,” I told him, enjoying his discomfort.

He glared at me, glanced at his fancy leather shoes, then finally nodded. Paul dashed out into the storm, down the path to the parking area. A few minutes later he returned. We all piled into Vincent’s fancy SUV. It was big—like being inside a small school bus.

The guard at the inner checkpoint waved us through. Once we rounded the curve to the outer perimeter I saw that the guards there had their hands full.

The wind had torn the canopy and tarps from their poles and the entire structure had collapsed onto the road, along with the tables, chairs, fans, solar panels, and bales of hay. But the wind and debris wasn’t the only problem—a large palm tree had toppled over, landing on one of the cars parked on the side of the road.

“Where will we take them?” I asked Morris.

“They can wait in the lobby until the weather breaks and it’s safe for them to drive home.”

“Isn’t that against the rules?”

“We have security there, it’s not like they can go any further. And it won’t be for long.” He glanced out the window at the black clouds whipping through the sky. “I hope.” He took out his Kermit and began typing. “Satellite images show it should clear in an hour or so.”

“So this isn’t part of the hurricane? Is it still headed here?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry, but this is a routine summer thunderstorm around here. The satellite is showing some spots of possible tornadic activity, as well.”

“Tornados?”

“Happens a few times a month this time of year.”

I glanced outside. The palm trees were bending to the wind, the river obscured by wind-whipped waves and rain. “And the hurricane?”

“See for yourself.” He handed me the handheld computer. The map showed the classic circular swirl of a hurricane, but when I compared it to the map’s scale I realized that Hermes had grown massive.

You didn’t need to be a meteorologist to realize that its course would bring it on shore somewhere between Savannah and Charleston—and we were sitting right smack-dab in the middle.

“The way its speed is picking up, we don’t have much time,” Morris continued. “Maybe eight hours or so.”

Paul parked us just beyond the outer security checkpoint. Before he could shut the engine off, Elise, the young pregnant woman I’d spoken with in the morning, ran up and yanked his door open. “Please, help me. He’s trapped, you’ve got to help me!”

Once David made it out of earshot of the office, mainly by hugging the wall and not using his crutches until he was at a safe distance, the rest had been easy.

He found Nikki waiting beside Ty’s Tahoe with her water bowl and a chew bone at her feet. He gave her a quick pat and let himself into the back seat. That was the easiest part—the Tahoe had a keypad lock for the doors and Ty used David’s mom’s birthday as the combination.

David lay down on the floor between the back seat and the front seats, covering himself and his crutches with Ty’s windbreaker and bulletproof vest. The hard part was waiting—it was hot inside the Tahoe and his crutches were digging into his side.

Finally, he heard footsteps and Ty calling to Nikki. He opened the rear hatch, sending her into her protective crate in the back, then got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. They began down the driveway. Once they passed the iron gates, David relaxed.

“You can come out now,” Ty said.

David remained frozen, holding his breath. Surely Ty wasn’t talking to him.

“You don’t really think Nikki would let anyone into the vehicle without alerting me, do you? Come on out, David. It can’t be comfortable down there under all that stuff.”

Damn. Busted. David pushed the jacket and vest off him and poked his head up. Ty pulled the car over to the side of the road and then turned to look at him, stretching one arm across the back of the seat. Not like he was angry, more like he was disappointed.

“Do you have any idea how many people will be looking for you?”

David lifted his butt onto the seat. Nikki poked her snout through the grate and licked his cheek happily. “I need to go to South Carolina.”

“Why? To see your mom? There’s a hurricane coming down there. The last place she’d want you is anywhere near the storm.”

“That won’t stop him. Ty, she’s in danger. He’s going to kill her.”

“He who?”

“Mr. X. I heard Mr. Masterson talking on the phone. He’s paying someone to kill my mom.”

Ty didn’t even blink—almost as if he wasn’t surprised by David’s accusation. “And this person is heading toward South Carolina?”

David nodded, staring hard into Ty’s eyes, trying to will him to get the car back on the road. “We have to hurry. He’s already left.”