Miranda Vaughn Mystery 01.00 - Chasing the Dollar (17 page)

I scrambled over the loose gravel as I heard the car door slam behind me, followed by Dylan
's outraged shout. My feet hit the grass along the side of the road, and I gained some traction, flying over the park-like median toward the marina, a safe-haven in the distance.

A truck was pulling out of the parking lot, and I waved frantically toward it. The driver started to slow, concern on his face, and then I heard the crack of a gunshot. The driver yanked the wheel to the side and dove into the seat. I turned to see Dylan running toward me, gun in his hand and gaining ground.

I jumped over a low rope fence that separated the grassy area from the parking lot. If I could get across the parking lot without a bullet in my back, I could find a place to hide or someone who could help me by calling the police. The shouts behind me grew louder, and I dared to turn and look.

Dylan ran across the grass, only fifty yards behind me. Behind him the driver of the truck was getting out of his cab, waving and shouting.

And behind him, crossing the field at a dead run, was Jake. He lowered his shoulder like a football player and launched himself at Dylan, taking him down. Both men rolled several yards, and the gun flew out of Dylan's hand.

Without thinking, I turned and ran toward the struggling figures, worry for Jake overwhelming me. He landed a good punch, stunning Dylan, but only for a few seconds. Dylan recovered with an elbow to Jake
's head, and I saw the blood flow from his nose. It was enough of a blow that Jake reeled back, and Dylan took advantage of the respite from the attack. He scrambled to his feet, picked up the gun, and turned to Jake.

"
No!" I screamed.

Dylan turned and saw me, and I froze.

"Miranda, run!"

At Jake
's shout, I turned and bolted toward the marina again.

Another shot, and I cringed, expecting to feel the impact of the bullet. Nothing.

I turned and saw Jake lying face down on the grass, arms out. My knees buckled, and my head spun. The tears in my eyes nearly blinded me, but I was still able to see Dylan, still coming, now focused on me.

With a ragged breath, I turned away and ran. The marina was nearly empty, the boats tied off at the dock put away for the rainy season, and I looked around, desperate for someone to help me, but the business office and the store were locked and empty. The docks were quiet, with only the sound of seagulls and the creaking of the swaying docks. I turned back as I approached the end of the sidewalk and saw Dylan was still there.

I had the choice to go left or right at the end of the path and turned to the right where there were more boats moored and tied up against the labyrinth of docks. There must be someone there who could call for help. My feet hit the floating dock, and I could feel the soft swell as the gentle waves rocked it, but I kept running, turning down docks that looked like they either had boat owners or a place to hide. When Dylan hit the dock, I felt the impact under my feet.

"
Miranda, there's no place to go," Dylan called. "Stop running. I won't hurt you."

Liar.

I turned a corner to a short pier and looked in both directions. On my right was a sailboat, a forty-eight-foot sloop with a wide sweeping deck. I could see a padlock on the door. To my left, a smaller fishing boat with an open wheelhouse. It had several large storage boxes on the deck, one covered with a tarp, and would provide me with more cover.

I jumped onto the boat and crept behind the small square room that hid me from Dylan
's line of sight. I knelt and peered up the dock and saw Dylan walking slowly now, looking up and down each branch off the dock and at each boat that was tied off.

Looking past him, I could see the empty marina. The truck driver who Dylan had nearly shot stood at the top of the path to the parking lot, hands on his hips.

Please call the police
, I prayed silently.

Then he pointed in the direction of the dock, and I saw Jake limping past the driver, scanning the marina until his gaze locked on Dylan. The breath left me, and relief flooded through me. He was still alive. He was going to call for help. Bring in the police or the
Belize army or someone.

Right?

I lost sight of Jake and focused on Dylan's slow and methodical search, getting closer and closer.

Looking around, as much as I hated to admit it, Dylan was right. There was nowhere to go from here. I
'd run out of places to run. I could jump in the water but then what? I wasn't going to out-swim a bullet.

Dylan seemed oblivious to Jake
's presence as he stalked me, like I was his prey. The midday sun beat down on me, and it felt like I was under a spotlight. I shifted and felt the hard plastic case in my pocket, reminding me that I couldn't jump in the water. I reached in and found the drive, grasping it tightly in my hand. It held the key to my future—clearing me, putting things right for the victims. And if I could get it to the right people, they could shut down Patterson's illegal scheme.

"
Miranda, come on now," Dylan said, his voice closer. "I'm going to find you eventually. Let's not drag this out. I'm on a deadline here, sweetheart."

I slid down, my back against the wooden structure, sweat trickling between my shoulder blades. Inching up just enough to look through the glass window above my head, I saw Dylan
's head swivel as he noticed Jake at the end of the dock.

"
Look, this is personal man," Dylan called out to Jake. He held the gun behind his back. "You don't need to get involved."

I took advantage of the distraction to move positions, scurrying to a wooden box and crouching behind it. If I had to, I could leap into the water from here, and it wasn
't as exposed if Dylan made it to the short pier this boat was tied to. I crawled forward and looked around the edge of the wooden container. Dylan had his back to me, and I couldn't see Jake from this position.

"
Looks to me like the young lady could use a hand," Jake said.

"
Just a lovers' spat," Dylan said. "You need to leave."

"
I don't think so."

I saw Dylan
's grip on the gun change, his finger sliding to the trigger. Without a thought, I leapt up.

"
No!"

Dylan whirled around. Jake lunged toward him. He grabbed the gun, and it waved around madly as the two men grappled. Then I heard Jake yell out and saw Dylan emerge with a silver handgun in his left hand—the pistol Katrina had been holding. He leveled the gun at Jake
's chest, and my heart stopped.

"
Dylan, no! Don't hurt him!"

I jumped from the boat to the dock and ran forward. The black gun was sitting on the dock, between Jake and Dylan. Slowly, Dylan leaned down, watching Jake the entire time. He picked up the gun and turning sideways, pointed it at me and still keeping the silver handgun aimed square at Jake
's heart.

I gave a quick glance behind me. I was at the end of the pier. Beyond that was a bright blue open bay. I was out of options for escape.

"Just come down here, Miranda," Dylan said. "Then your hero can go."

"
If I do, you'll let him go?"

"
I promise."

I rolled my eyes at that, but reached into my purse and fumbled until I felt the plastic case I was looking for. I held the black plastic case between my finger and thumb.

"You want this?"

"
What is it?" He looked at me with suspicion, squinting in the bright sun, trying to discern the small object in my hand.

"
It's Bill's back-up drive."

Dylan smiled and took a step toward me, but I shook my head and backed up two steps, gripping the plastic case tight in my fist. I was just feet from the edge of the dock.

"Don't come any closer," I said.

"
Or what?"

"
Or I'll throw it in the water."

He stopped, glanced back at Jake then turned to me.

"You let him go," I said, nodding toward Jake. "Or I swear to God, Dylan, I will throw this into the water. Do you know what salt water does to computer components? Kills them dead. Even if you let it dry out, the salt is too corrosive. All the information on this drive will be gone. Forever."

Dylan froze, his face a mask of pure hatred.
"Bitch," he spat out. "Fine, you want your hero to walk away. That's fine. He can go."

"
No."

Jake said it quietly, but the word carried across the water.

"Jake, just go. He's already killed his fiancée. That's what happened isn't it, Dylan? Bill didn't shoot her. He was in front of her. He would have been aiming at you. You shot at Bill but killed Katrina, didn't you?"

Dylan gave me a tight smile.
"You were always so smart."

He waved the gun at me.

"Put the drive on the ground, and I'll let him go," he said.

Jake
's stance stiffened, and I heard the sound of a boat behind me. A big one, coming in fast.

Dylan must have seen it, too, because he paled, and his eyes grew wide. I turned and saw the vessel—a sleek, fast racing boat bearing down on the marina at breakneck speed.

"Hurry, Miranda, throw it to me," Dylan said, the panic evident in his voice. He edged closer to me. "Do it now!"

My fist tightened around the plastic case, and I looked behind me again. The boat showed no sign of stopping.

The gun in Dylan's hand shook, and he looked between me and the boat, seeming to have forgotten Jake was behind him.

"
Miranda, get down!" Jake yelled, just as rapid bursts of gunfire erupted from behind me.

I dove onto the short pier between the sloop and the fishing boat, shielded from the gunshots. Covering my head with my arms, I could hear the bullets chewing up the wood side of the boat. Looking up, I saw Dylan on the dock, lying flat on a short pier about thirty feet closer to the marina. His face was pale, and I saw both guns were in the middle of the main pier, abandoned in Dylan
's haste to get to safety.

The pier bounced from the boat
's wake, and water sloshed over the edge. The ropes tying the boats to the dock groaned at the strain of the swells. I couldn't see Jake, and my heart started racing.
No, no, no
. I thought he was dead once today, and I couldn't bear the thought. Staying below the side of the sailboat, I crept toward the main pier and saw that Jake was on deck of the fishing boat I had taken refuge in just minutes before. I exhaled and tried to calm my heart rate. I'd hate to survive the gun battle only to die of a heart attack.

The roar of the boat increased, and it sounded like it was about to make another pass. My heart pounded, and I could only think of getting to the marina, but if I ran down the pier, I
'd be exposed.

"
Stay down!" Jake yelled. He pushed himself to his feet and staying low, crept to the edge of the boat and dropped onto the pier and rolled over to me.

"
Are you hurt?" he asked.

I shook my head.
"Are you?"

"
I'll be fine," he said, and I saw the dark stain on his jeans, just above his knee.

"
You were shot," I said, my panic rising.

"
No, Miranda, look at me."

He took my face in his hands, and I looked into his eyes. He didn
't break eye contact for the longest time, and the more I looked deep into his eyes, the more calm I felt.

"
I am fine. We're going to get out of here."

I nodded.

"Miranda, throw me the drive," Dylan yelled.

I turned to Dylan, not believing his nerve. He was holding the silver gun again and was kneeling in the shelter of a boat in the slip. I felt Jake take my hand, squeeze it hard.

I looked at Jake, and his eyes flicked toward the end of the pier. The boat was getting closer, and I expected another blast of gunfire any second.

"
Now," Jake said.

He pushed himself up and pulled me with him toward the end of the short pier, just as the bullets started flying again. This time I heard them hitting the dock, the boats, wood splinters flying around us as we ran to the end of the dock.

"No!"

Dylan
's voice behind me was nearly drowned by the gunfire, but I could hear his anguish as Jake and I dove off the end of the dock into the bay. One hand was still gripped in Jake's, the other wrapped tightly around the hard plastic case.

My lungs were bursting when I finally surfaced, my hands, now empty, grasping at the slick side of the
Maria Belen
, the fishing boat I'd hidden on earlier. My nose was filled with oily water, and I gagged at the smell of shallow, fetid saltwater with a hint of diesel. My hand found a rail and gripped it. I gasped and wiped the water from my face. Gulping air, I looked around for Jake and found him a few feet from me, holding on to the opposite corner of the fishing boat.

For the second time that day, I heard the sound of approaching sirens. The marina was again silent, except for the faint sound of shouting coming from the parking lot. Jake pulled himself up and onto the back of the
Maria Belen
, then reached down and took my hand, lifting me out of the water. Once I was on the boat, I could see people running from the parking lot, at least six people hurrying down the slope toward the docks.

And one running away—Dylan.

I squeezed the water from my tunic and felt for my purse. It was still attached at my hip, my passport soggy, but secured inside.

"
We're going to have to answer some questions from the local police," Jake said, his voice low.

I looked up and saw his face was pale, but concerned about me. Then I looked to where I
'd seen the stain on his leg. It was hard to see the blood stain since his pants were soaked through, but there was a ribbon of blood threaded through the water pooling at his feet.

"
Oh my God, we have to get you to a hospital," I said, feeling a little faint at the thought of his injury.

He shook his head.
"No, the little prick had a knife in his pocket and cut me. He punched me there when we were wrestling on the dock," he said. "It's just a minor cut. Nothing life-threatening."

He leaned closer to me, putting both hands on my shoulders and examining my face. He traced a finger along my jaw, to my lips.
"He hit you?"

My hand flew up to my mouth.
"Oh, yeah. When I told him the laptop wasn't Bill's."

Jake swore under his breath and gently traced my bottom lip, which had started to swell. His touch left a trail of fire in its wake. If he continued to touch me like that, look at me so intensely, my clothes would be dry in minutes. I found myself self-consciously licking my lip as I met his intense gaze. My stomach fluttered at the closeness and the tenderness.

He leaned in and touched his lips to mine, and I closed my eyes and sank into him. My body arched as if possessed. My fingers gripped his hard-muscled bicep, and I pulled myself closer, desperate for more. With a groan, Jake pulled away, and I swayed at the absence of his touch, his kiss, then exhaled a long breath.

"
Oh, my," I whispered, my heart pounding in my veins.

"
We should get out of here," Jake said. He took my hand, led me to the side of the boat, and jumped onto the dock.

"
Wait!"

I leaned down near the supply box where I had hidden and dug my fingers into the tarp covering the supply box until I found what I was looking for.

Jake held his hand up to help me off the
Maria Belen
. "What's that?"

"
The drive." I held up the small, black plastic case.

He shook his head.
"What was in your hand?"

I sighed.
"My favorite lipstick. Went to a watery grave, I'm afraid."

He grinned.
"May it rest in peace."

Dripping, we walked up the dock toward the marina.
"If we get questioned by the officials, just follow my lead."

Two police officers jogged down the pier toward us, and Jake held up a hand and greeted them in English, giving the officers our names.

"What are you doing here?" one of the officers asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked us over.

"
We were looking for a friend on his boat when the men started shooting."

I nodded as Jake spoke, grateful that he wasn
't sharing the full story, or we'd be here all day. Or for twenty to life.

The officers asked questions, and Jake answered calmly, keeping his arm around my shoulders. After a few minutes of conversation, he pointed to his leg and grimaced.

"I think I was hit by something, maybe a bullet, maybe shrapnel, but I need some medical attention."

I nodded vigorously as he showed the officer the hole in his jeans. Looking down, I saw the tear in the fabric and quickly turned my head to avoid seeing blood or worse. It must have been bad enough because the officers cleared the way for us to start walking toward the marina. Jake
's limp was more pronounced, and he leaned on me, and I started to worry that he wasn't bluffing about going to a hospital. He gave the officer a phone number, and the man let us go toward the parking lot.

"
We will have an officer take you to the hospital. He'll meet you at the parking lot. Wait for him there," one of the officers said then barked a command into his radio.

We started walking back up the ramp toward the cars, and Jake leaned in close.
"When we get to the car, just get in like nothing's wrong," he said.

He straightened as we rounded a corner, and his limp vanished once we were out of sight of the police officers.

"Are we waiting for the officer?"

"
No, we're not."

"
Are we going to the hospital?"

"
No."

I expected more police in the parking lot, but other than the two officers we saw there was just one other car. About a dozen civilians lined the top of the ramp down to the marina to survey the action and exchange stories about what they saw. Though we were conspicuous in our sopping wet state, nobody stopped us from getting in a small rental car at the edge of the parking lot. I looked around as Jake opened my door for me and saw that Dylan
's car was missing. I pointed that out to Jake.

"
Who is that guy anyway?"

"
Dylan Holland, vice president at Patterson Investment Company, and my former fiancé," I said. Heat rushed up my cheeks.

Jake merely nodded as I climbed into the passenger seat. He drove out of the parking lot at a slow speed, cruising by as if we were tourists who stumbled over a traffic jam. No one looked twice at us as he turned the car onto the busy boulevard.

"How did you find me?"

"
Only you would stop for tacos while being pursued by criminals."

"
You tracked my credit card?"

"
Yes. I got to the hotel just after you and your ex left and just before the cops. I barely had time to grab our bag," he said, glancing in the rear view mirror. "Didn't think we'd be going back there, even if the hotel would allow us back. That door would be hard to explain away."

"
Where are we going?"

Jake didn
't answer, just focused on the road, putting distance between us and the marina. I looked behind us, but there were no Belize City police racing to stop us from leaving. The marina parking lot was teeming with emergency vehicles, their lights flashing, but no one seemed to notice that the two main witnesses had slipped away. Well, three, considering Dylan had made a hasty retreat, too.

"
If you want to change into something dry, your clothes are in the backseat," he said.

I climbed over the center console and into the small backseat of the car.

"Where did you find a car?" I asked, taking my only other set of clothes out of the duffel bag.

His eyes flickered to the rear view mirror and then back to the road.
"I borrowed it."

My eyebrows
rose slightly at this. The straight-arrow FBI guy had stolen a car? "Oh?"

He glanced again at me in the mirror.

"I needed it fast," he said. "Because you were in trouble."

"
Oh," I said, the word slipping out on a breath. He was worried about me.

While he drove, I quickly changed into my only other set of clothes. It was nice to get out of the wet clothes that smelled like diesel and seaweed. We were traveling south-west, the bay behind us, and the farther we drove, the fewer cars we saw on the road. I spread my wet clothes over the back seat to help them dry and climbed back into the front seat.

Jake didn't speak, and his silence was making me fidgety.

"
How's your leg?" I asked.

"
Fine," he said.

"
You should get it looked at," I said. "That water was pretty gross, and there's no telling what bacteria was floating around in there. Maybe we can stop and get some peroxide…"

I stopped talking as I realized he was turning off a deserted road onto a smaller deserted road. There wasn
't going to be a Walgreens nearby.

He turned and looked at me, an eyebrow arched.
"I'll be okay."

We headed west, winding through a meadow of tall green grass and toward a dark row of trees in the distance.

"Where are we going?"

The sea was at our back now, and the sun glared off the dusty windshield.

"We're just going to get as far from Belize City as we can," Jake said, glancing at the rear view mirror. I turned, but the road behind us stretched out empty behind the dust the small car threw up. "What happened to the laptop?"

"
Dylan took it. He thought it was Bill's," I said.

"
You want to fill me in on him?"

No, not particularly
. I bit my lip before answering.

"
Do you mean today or—"

He shot me a glare.
"At the beginning."

"
We worked together at Patterson Tinker. We dated. Then we got engaged. When I got arrested, he dumped me."

Jake
's expression softened a little, and I bristled.

"
Oh, don't pity me," I snapped. "It was for the best. I just found out that he'd been using my name to launder money for some really bad people."

"
Jesus," Jake said under his breath. "So all those names we saw, those huge spreadsheets of accounts and businesses, those could be real people?"

"
I guess so," I said. The business addresses were clearly fake, but my name was real.

Jake reached over and squeezed my knee, the brief contact intimate and affectionate.
"I'm sorry you had to go through all this," he said.

I looked down, blinking away the tears that threatened.
"Thanks," I managed to choke out over the lump in my throat.

We continued in silence for a few minutes.

"What happened today?" Jake asked.

I took a breath. Where to start?

"Bill wanted me to go to the bank and transfer money from the account in my name."

"
To where?" Jake interrupted.

"
I don't know. I guess he had an account," I said. "We never made it to the bank. Dylan and Katrina were near the bank in an alley, and they had guns."

My head throbbed at the memory, my blood pressure rising when I remembered the sight of the gun in Dylan
's hand.

"
Who's Katrina?"

"
She was the receptionist at Patterson Tinker. She's Dylan's fiancée. Or, well, she was. He said she was shot and killed after I escaped the alley."

"
Jesus," Jake whispered again.

"
He said she had a fake passport in my name, and they were going to the bank, too," I said. "But he wanted me to do it because then it would be better for him and Katrina."

"
Because they weren't transferring the money for the clients," Jake said. "They were stealing it."

I nodded.
"Yes, I think so."

"
Do you know if she's dead?"

I shook my head.
"No, I heard gunshots when I ran off. I didn't stick around to investigate." I twisted my fingers together in my lap. "There's something else. I think Bill may be dead, too."

Jake didn
't react to the news. "Why? What happened?"

"
Dylan said as much on the dock," I said.

He nodded, a grim expression crossing his face.
"You didn't see what happened to Bill?"

"
No. I ran. There were shots. I didn't look back."

"
Well, your former fiancé isn't the most reliable source, so let's not count out Katrina and Bill yet," Jake said.

I didn
't respond. What could I do? Argue with that? I didn't doubt Dylan's story, but Jake hadn't heard the flat matter-of-fact way Dylan had announced his fiancée's death. Just the memory of it sent a shiver up my spine.