Picture Me Dead (33 page)

“I knew you had it all wrong,” David said to Ashley. “The little woman…she's just gotten her driver's license. Can you imagine?”

“Not a problem,” the man said. “You can turn around right over there.”

“Thanks,” Ashley said.

When they were headed back down the road, she could see that the man was still in the middle of the street, staring after them.

“You asshole,” she told David.

“Why, darling, every man knows that women can't drive.”

She shot him an evil stare. “Oh, yeah, right. What a waste of time. I poked around in a field, met a hippie, then a farmer with a shotgun. God knows, there's probably a pit bull around somewhere, too. We acted like a couple of idiots in front of a guy just out to give us directions. And what the hell did we find out? Stuart was after strawberry farmers.”

“You're wrong. There's something going on there, and we both know it.”

“No, we both don't know it.”

“We need to get back onto that property. And maybe check out the adjoining fields.”

“All right, Mr. Journalist, you get onto any property you want to explore and get buckshot riddled through your hide. I'm going to find out who owns that place.”

David was silent.

“Well?” she demanded.

“Good idea,” he said meekly, smiled, then shrugged.

 

Jesse Crane had once been with the Miami-Dade police, though that had been some time ago. He was still a law enforcement officer, but, after the death of his wife, he had returned to his roots.

Out along the Tamiami Trail, the Miccosukee Indians owned much of the county land and spread out over much of the noman's land of the next county, as well. The Miccosukees had their own police force. Sometimes there were conflicts between the sovereign rights of the Indians and the laws of the county, state and country. Jesse, however, had a way of handling disputes that seemed to bring out the best in everyone. He had a knack of knowing what he could handle himself and when he needed to bring in the more extensive facilities of the county force.

Tall, taut, lithe as melted steel, he exuded a quiet power and knowledge. He knew every dangerous creature in the Glades, could mix a potion that truly kept mosquitoes at bay, and maneuvered the hammocks and waterways of the Glades with greater dexterity than an otter. He was an arresting man with his mixture of Native American and European features, straight, ink-dark hair and hazel eyes.

For a long time, the roar of the airboat kept them from engaging in conversation. Then Jesse cut the motor, and the flat-bottomed vehicle drifted along in a sudden silence. It looked as if they were floating over the land, but they weren't. The sawgrass was so high, though, that it stretched far above the surface of the water, which ranged from two to ten feet in depth.

Jesse pointed across the terrain. “There's your ‘residential' area,” he said to Jake.

“You could bring the boat up to within about fifty yards of the rear of the property, right?”

Jesse shrugged. “Well, a boat like this. Or a canoe. Nothing major. But then…” He shrugged and looked at Jake. “Hell, a lot of illegal stuff gets transported around this area in small craft and airboats. If you know what you're doing, you can go for miles and if you bump into someone else, it's by sheer accident. What exactly is it that you're looking for?” he asked. “I read about the body that was discovered, but…I thought you'd be looking into religious cults, like the last time.”

“I was.”

Jesse was silent. The boat kept drifting.

“What do people usually do with property this far west and south?” Jake asked.

Jesse shrugged. “Well, it's not really great for livestock. Too muddy. You get a hurricane like Andrew or just a wet storm through here, and you'd be wading in muck for weeks, months maybe. Not that people don't buy the land and get a few horses, cows, chickens—pigs, even. There are a lot of growers out here. The earth is actually incredibly rich in many places. My ancestors grew pumpkins, you know. Haven't seen many pumpkin patches, but…there are a lot of berry farms. You can even do some citrus. Then again, there are those people who just want to have a huge estate. You know, lots of land. They can get it far cheaper out here than anywhere nearer the city. And you can build a huge house, tennis courts, pool, the works. Some people like to be out in the sticks. There are some incredible mansions along some of the trails.”

Jake was the silent one then, studying the landscape. From this vantage point, he could see a fair distance. Houses sat far back from the water's edge, though for all he knew the property lines were actually under water. The water could take a man a good distance, could easily get him out of the “swamp” and into civilization.

“Two things go on out here most frequently,” Jesse said, still staring at him. “Drug running and murder. Sometimes they go hand in hand.”

Jake nodded but was silent.

“Those women who were killed out here…their ears were slashed, weren't they?” Jesse said. “And they belonged to a cult.”

“Uh-huh.”

“The slashed ears might have meant the girls weren't heeding the word of their master or maybe it meant they had heard too much. Their ears had betrayed them. An eye for an eye kind of a deal. Or maybe it was just something to throw the police off completely.”

Startled, Jake looked at Jesse. “That's exactly what I've been thinking.”

“What made you come to that conclusion?”

“I paid a visit to Peter Bordon.”

“Oh? And he gave you something?”

“‘Smoke and mirrors,'”
Jake quoted. “I just know there's something I'm missing. It's like I can't see the forest for the trees.”

“Well,” Jesse said, shrugging, “look that way and you'll see plenty of trees. Hope you can find the forest soon, 'cuz I just heard that Peter Bordon might be released.”

 

Ashley drove David Wharton back to the garage where his car was parked. He intended to head straight down to city hall and procure the property records.

“Small world, actually,” she murmured, thinking that it had only been that morning when Jake's Jane Doe had been identified, and she had been involved with property, too.

“Small world?” David said.

She shrugged. “Nothing, really.” She didn't want to talk about Jake's case, especially not to a reporter.

“Call my cell,” she told him. “I'm going to the hospital.”

“I thought Nathan Fresia didn't want you there?”

“He doesn't, but…well, he's got the police there now. I don't have to go to Stuart's room to find out how he's doing. And I'll pick up some flowers for Lucy.”

“All right. I have to hurry. I don't know how early they're closing these days.”

Ashley nodded and let him go. She drove straight to the hospital. As she parked in the garage, she felt the old unease creeping over her. But it was still daylight, and there were plenty of people walking from their cars to the elevators. She decided to take a minute to call Nick, having remembered on the way that he had said something about dinner. She called the bar, and Katie answered. She told her that Nick had gone out with Sharon for the day.

“Thrown over for another woman,” Ashley said.

“Nah…he'll never throw you over. Did you actually make a date with your uncle?”

“No, we just agreed that we were going to make a date, I guess. Thanks, Katie. Hope everyone shows up—if there's a problem, call me. I'm heading back to the hospital.”

The garage remained busy as she walked to the elevators. She went to the information desk and was given a room number for Lucy Fresia. She was relieved to find the gift shop open, and she bought her some flowers.

In contrast to Nathan's coolness earlier, Lucy was glad to see her. She was impatient and fretful, eager to get up and see her son, but Nathan had insisted that she wasn't to move, that she had to rest—then
he
could fall apart.

“Lucy, I know the girls and I couldn't possibly have tripped over a cord and unplugged anything in that room,” Ashley said earnestly.

Lucy smiled grimly. “My dear, Nathan still believes in accidents. I don't. It wasn't an accident that Stuart is here, no matter how those cops look at me sometimes. And I don't believe that plug was pulled by accident, either. Oh, and thank God you thought of hiring them. I didn't even think of hiring security. I suppose, if the police really believed someone had been trying to kill Stuart, they would have had someone guarding him already. And I'm sure you promised to pay those men, but Nathan and I can certainly afford it, so don't you even think about it.”

“Lucy, really, that's something we can worry about later.”

She squeezed Lucy's hand. “Let's pray Stuart comes to soon, and that will solve everything.”

“Absolutely.” Lucy ran her fingers over the hospital sheet. “They won't discharge me until the morning. Of course, the good thing is, I won't have far to go to be with Stuart again.”

“Right.”

“Now, Nathan may give you a problem, but if you've got the time, go on up and see him. Tell him he must leave long enough to come give me a kiss and a hug and convince me that Stuart is doing just fine.”

“Certainly.”

Ashley kissed Lucy goodbye, then headed down a floor and over. She reflected that she was getting to know the hospital far too well.

When she got to Stuart's floor, the waiting room was empty. She walked tentatively down the hall to his room, hoping the curtains would be open and Nathan would see her, even come out to talk to her.

But as she approached the room, she came to a dead halt. There was a chair in front of the room, with an off-duty police officer in it, just as there should have been.

She was stunned to see that the officer was Len Green.

“Len!”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He stood, a slow smile on his face as he walked over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

She pulled back, looking at him. “Aren't you supposed to be on duty?”

He shook his head. “I've only been here a few minutes.”

“But…how…?”

“I heard Marty put out a call, and when I heard what he wanted, I volunteered right away.” He lowered his voice. “I didn't know the money situation with…well, with these people, but since I assumed that you were the one to get the whole thing started, I figured I could put in a few hours for free.”

“That's great of you, Len.”

“Not a problem.”

“But the Fresias can afford to pay, and unless you've won the lottery lately, I'm sure you could use the money.”

Before he could respond, the door opened. Nathan—thinning hair sticking straight up, clothing sadly rumpled—had apparently seen her. She braced herself, not knowing what her welcome would be.

“How's he doing?” she asked softly.

“No better, but no worse,” he said, and seemed relieved by that small wonder. “Ashley, I didn't mean to be rude before, but the doctors…well, they were convinced we were letting too many people in, and that someone must have tripped over the cord without knowing it. Of course, the good news is that the machine was off and he was making it on his own. That's an encouraging sign.”

“That's great, Nathan,” Ashley said. “And by the way, I've just received instructions from your wife. She wants to see you. If you trust me, I'll stay with Stuart.”

He took her by the shoulders. He didn't speak but kissed her on the forehead.

“I'm off, then,” he said. He grinned ruefully, proving he was keeping something of a sense of humor. “Maybe I can meet some new friends along the way. I'm starting to think of this place as home.”

She and Len watched him walk down the hall. “Len, bless you for coming. I'm going to go in with him.”

“I'll be here.”

Ashley went into Stuart's room. She glanced at her phone quickly to make sure she hadn't missed a call, then set it for vibrate so it wouldn't make a shattering noise in the quiet room.

Sitting by Stuart, she listened to the drone, wheeze and hiss of his machines. She took his hand, and, as had become her custom, she began to talk to him, telling him all about her day, and that she and David Wharton were on the trail, though she really didn't know just what trail they were on yet.

She glanced up. Len was standing outside, arms crossed over his chest, watching her, watching the room.

She felt somehow uneasy and wondered if Len had been able to hear any of her conversation. She hadn't been speaking loudly, but neither had she whispered.

Len looked grim, but when he caught her eyes on him, he smiled and waved, then brought his hand above his eyes and looked off in each direction, as if he were a lookout on a sailing ship. She smiled and gave him a thumbs-up sign.