A Killer's Agenda (30 page)

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Anita Whiting

Alex awoke and stretched languidly, feeling rested for the first time in a long while. She could hear voices below and birds singing in the trees outside the window. Sunlight peeked through the filmy white curtains and around the shades dancing on the bedspread, the warmth touching her bare arms.

“I guess we’ll have to get up soon if we don’t want to miss

breakfast,” she murmured, turning. She sat up in surprise to find the other side of the bed empty. For just a moment, she allowed herself to panic, memories of her vision from the night before flashing in front of her.
Stop it,
she told herself
. He’s probably
already downstairs.
She glanced at the clock, surprised to find it was already past nine. She slipped reluctantly from underneath the covers, grabbing a clean tee shirt and pair of jeans and her shower bag. She pocketed the key and hurried down the hall. Ten minutes later, she was dressed, feeling thoroughly awake and refreshed. Just as she reached for the doorknob to unlock it, Brad opened it from the other side, his expression lightening when he saw her.

“Good morning,” she said, reaching up on tiptoe to give him a kiss.

“Morning yourself,” he said, lifting her off her feet capturing her lips in a long kiss

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“Wow! I like the wake up call,” she murmured huskily when he finally released her. “I gather you’ve already had breakfast?”

He shook his head. “No, although I did sneak a cup of coffee earlier.”

“How much earlier?”

“Around six.”

“You were up at that ungodly hour? Why?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

The tone of his voice had her looking up at him. “Can’t imagine there were too many people awake that time of the morning.”

“There weren’t. I spent the time doing a little investigating of my own. Thanks to the rain our hostess told me they had day

before yesterday, I was able to find a set of footprints just under the upstairs porch you were standing on. Damn it, Alex! Why

didn’t you tell me how close that bullet came to hitting you?”

She shrugged. “What good would it have done?” She began

folding clothes and packing her suitcase calmly. “What else did you do?”

He wanted to carry the conversation further. He felt this

overpowering need to let out the fear he felt when he saw the splintered wood just inches from the doors she had been standing near. Inches from her head… Yet one look at her expression told him she didn’t want to go there.

“I paid a visit to the other B & B across the street.”

“The one Matt Fowler stayed in?”

He nodded. “Met with the owner, Lisa Carter. Nice lady with a penchant for talking your ear off.”

She smiled. “While you were charming her, did she tell you

anything that might help in the investigation?”

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Anita Whiting

He reached behind her and picked up an envelope, handing it

to her. “She did better than that. She gave us evidence.”

She pulled the papers inside out and looked up quizzically.

“More phone records?”

“For the few weeks that Fowler stayed at her place.”

She shook her head. “The man was a professional, Brad. I can’t imagine he would have been stupid enough to call anyone except from his cell.”

“Even professionals make mistakes and he made a big one. He

probably figured no one would follow his trail here and got

careless.”

She scanned the numbers, not recognizing any of them at first and then her gaze slowed, focusing, searching her memory. Her gaze snapped to his. “This is Russell Ferron’s phone number.”

“And the one directly below it, according to my research, is Joseph Rinaldi’s.

She frowned, scanning the entire month’s worth of bill. “Why did she keep this?”

“She told me she files all of those things for tax purposes.

Keeps them for several years.”

She raised a triumphant gaze to his. “You’re right. This links Fowler to Ferron and Rinaldi. Best evidence we’ve had thus far.”

“I’ll give you one better.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out another piece of paper. “This is the cell phone bill Tommy gave us yesterday with Corey’s number.”

She compared the number with the bill she had in her hand. It only took a moment for her to find the number, again and again and again. An angry flush stained her cheeks. “That bastard was

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phone stalking him.” She glanced at the dates. “He called him at least twice a day for the entire two weeks he was here.”

“Last call was the morning he was killed.”

“No wonder he was paranoid. Strange he didn’t go to the

police.”

“He did, according to your uncle.”

“You called Uncle Brian?” she asked in surprise.

He nodded. “I figured he could cut through the red tape and get information a lot quicker than I could. I was right.”

“I gather the police didn’t follow up?”

“They tried, apparently half heartedly. Mrs. Carter has two

phones that she uses for making reservations and for business use. The five bedrooms upstairs have their own lines.

She threw the papers down in disgust. “If the police had been on top of this they might have prevented a murder. Although, in their defense, there are ways to call that make it almost impossible to trace. I don’t doubt Fowler would have known them.

“If we get all the information in a row I’ve got a hunch the police won’t take things lightly this time,” Brad speculated.

“If we can get our hands on those backup CD’s we’ve got him, Brad.”

“That might be harder than you think,” he said wryly. “I placed a call right before you came in to Wendy Fox. Got her husband. To put it mildly, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to talk to me. In fact, I barely got my name and why I was calling out before he cut me off.”

“I was afraid of that. I bet they’ve been threatened by Ferron or Fowler or both. Remember, according to that obituary, they have a

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Anita Whiting

little girl now. I wouldn’t put it past Ferron to threaten to kill her if they don’t keep their mouth shut.”

“Terrific. Then what’s your game plan?”

“How good an actor are you?” she asked candidly.

“Why?” he asked suspiciously.

“No woman loses her child and doesn’t burn for revenge. It

might be buried deep, Brad, but that woman has to want some

closure, especially if she knows Ferron is responsible for her son’s death. She’ll protect her daughter like a lioness but I can’t believe she won’t have some empathy with a man who has lost a relative in the same way.”

“Question is how do I get past her husband?”

She rose, zipping her suitcase shut. “Relate to him man to

man. Imagine your wife and child in danger and you’ll know what to say.”

“I don’t like it.”

She nodded. “I know. Neither do I but, as I see it, it’s the only way. Someone has those CD’s and we need them. Only way to get our hands on them is to put ourselves at their mercy.” She lifted her case and put it on the floor. “Got ammunition for your gun?”

she asked casually.

He straightened, brows running together. “How do you know I

own a gun?”

“Because I ran you before I took the case, Brad. I’m not a

complete fool. You’re the one who asked if my parents were okay with me taking off with a strange man in a car, remember? I know you have a gun and the expertise to use it.”

“Yes I have the damn ammo,” he growled. “Why?”

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She shrugged. “Because things could get nasty. I don’t want to put that family at risk but, let’s face it, we are. That’s one of the reasons I want you to visit them alone. I want to have some control and I sure as hell don’t want any hostage situation. You packing a gun will even things on that side.”

He unzipped a pocket of his suitcase and took his pistol out, slipping in a clip, his jaw tense. “I stopped at the library again and pulled up a map of the area where the Fox’s live.” He spread the paper on the table and motioned for him to join her. “This,” he said, pointing to a red x mark, “is their house. Nice neighborhood with five acre lots so we’ve got some room to work. As luck would have it, they live on the end with only a house on one side and woods on the other.”

She studied the map, frowning. “Problem is, there’s no place to park the car without being noticed, especially a red Mustang convertible.” She followed the line of the road with her hand. “How close are these woods to the house?”

“I’m not sure, but from the scale of this map, it looks like they run across the street and along one side.”

“Then that’s got to be where I’ll set my stakeout up. Problem is what to do for transportation. I can’t risk being seen in the same car as you and it’s not impossible that Ferron, or whoever he hired, is still lurking around the area.”

“I’ve already arranged for a rental.”

She raised a brow, impressed. “You reading my mind now?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Didn’t have to. I’ve spent enough time with you now to know when you set your mind on something, you don’t back down.” He grimaced. “I just didn’t know I’d have to play a leading role without you for moral support.”

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She smiled. “Oh, I think you can handle it.”

“Guess I don’t have much choice,” he said darkly.

She took his arm. “Come on. Let’s go get some breakfast before they stop serving.”

About an hour later, Brad walked out of the house and got into the convertible, smiling slightly as he eased the seat back so he could fit his big frame in. First time he’d driven his own car, he thought, starting the engine and backing out. Alex hadn’t been thrilled with the nondescript brown wagon he’d rented for her but had to admit it wouldn’t draw attention.

His cell phone rang and he glanced at the number. “Miss me

already?”

“Always,” Alex answered. “Give me about fifteen minutes to

catch up so don’t drive too fast. This heap won’t keep up. Don’t you dare laugh, either,” she warned.

“Wouldn’t think of it.”

“Yeah, right. First gas station before the neighborhood, pull over. We’ll finalize arrangements then.”

“Lucky we got a fairly early start because it’s going to take four or five hours to get there and it looks like we’re in for some rain.”

“Terrific,” she grumbled. “A stakeout in the freezing rain.

Perfect.”

“We could do this another day.”

“Getting cold feet?”

“I’m past that. Just watch yourself, Alex. It doesn’t look like anyone is following me but I can’t be sure. Keep an eye on your back as well. I might not have your sixth sense but something is telling me we haven’t fooled Ferron.”

“I know. I’ll have my cell on and you do the same.”

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He disconnected the call, not happy with this cloak and dagger stuff. The sun peeked through the threatening clouds as he eased out of the driveway. He slid his sunglasses on, his eyes scanning the road behind him. Traffic was light as he entered the freeway, keeping a steady legal pace. Knowing the way Alex drove, it

wouldn’t take too long for her to catch up, he thought wryly.

About twenty minutes later, he caught of glimpse of the wagon in his rear view mirror and relaxed against the seat. She kept a steady distance behind him, letting cars pass her and checking in periodically. The rain that had threatened the past hour or so started to pelt the window and he switched on the wipers. It was close to four o’clock in the evening before he crossed the bridge over the Ohio River. They hadn’t bothered to stop for anything other than gas and for perhaps the hundredth time he checked his mirror. Alex was two cars back. He exited the freeway, glancing at the map on the seat.

The city of Marietta was picturesque as it sat along the banks of the big river. The fall leaves painted the water with a brilliant reflection as he drove slowly along, looking for street signs. The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle by the time he pulled into a gas station about half a mile from their destination, picking up his phone and punching in Alex’s number.

“You okay?”

“Fine, considering I could run faster than this car,” she

grumbled.

“I’m filling up now. Gas station is at the corner of East Fifth and Superior.”

“I see you. I decided to stop a few miles back. Since you were going so slowly I figured I could catch up.”

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“I thought you said that car was a dog,” he reminded her.

“It is but I pushed it.”

“What now?”

“I’ve got to eye the area, get a feel for where the best place to set up would be. Go ahead without me.”

“Be careful, Alex. Something doesn’t feel right about this.”

“I will. Good luck.”

He pulled out, catching a glimpse of her wagon before he

followed the curve of the road. His fingers tightened on the wheel.

He knew she was capable of taking care of herself but that didn’t stop him from worrying about her. They were later arriving than he would have liked and the dark clouds threatened to hurry dusk along. He slowed, finding the road he wanted and turned. The neighborhood was upscale and attractive and he found the house without difficulty. It was a charming Cape Cod sitting back from the road with a flower-edged, curved sidewalk leading to it.

He pulled in the driveway, noting the sign indicating the home was protected by a security system. Not one of his but a good one, he thought. The garage was closed so there was no way of knowing if anyone was home. He rang the doorbell and waited. Impromptu meetings weren’t exactly his forte. There was a better than good chance that he was going to have this rather solid-looking front door slammed in his face.

He saw the quick flick of a curtain. Moments later the door was opened by a tall, slender woman with dark eyes, her expression less than welcoming. “Can I help you?”