Against the Tide (15 page)

“First of all, we want to go to the hospital to check in on Lieutenant Conrad,” Garret told him.

“I hear he's making a good recovery,” the officer told them.

Megan explained her plan for the newspaper office. “A couple of newspaper employees agreed to meet me there at ten.”

“And I hope to look up an ex-employee and have a talk with him.” Garret gave the officer a slip of paper with Kent's address on it. “I'm not sure why the police didn't question him last night, but I think he's got something to hide.”

The policeman's brows lifted. “You need backup?” he asked. “Our shift ends at eight o'clock, but I can get someone—”

“That'd be good.”

“I hope we're not getting a false sense of security,” Megan said as they got into his SUV.

“I know what you mean. We need to keep our guard up. I'm glad you'll have Arthur and Barb with you at the paper—as well as police protection.”

“Yeah, that's reassuring. And my car should be at the paper, too. The tire store is closed today, but they had promised to park it back there when they were done.”

“What about your keys? Got a spare set?”

“I asked them to drop my keys in the mail slot on the front door, and Arthur said he found them last night.”

“Hopefully, your new tires are still intact,” Garret said grimly.

“Yeah, I hadn't considered that.” She grimaced at the thought of explaining more slashed tires to her insurance company. She examined the cell phone, relieved to see it was fully charged, then as Garret drove, she programmed a few numbers including Garret's, which she added to favorites for speed dialing. Feeling more secure, she tucked the phone into her zipped parka pocket, along with the other things she normally carried in her bag. Just to be safe.

The hospital, though a picturesque location overlooking the river, was a bit out of the way, but it was nearly visiting hours by the time they arrived.

“At least the cops are here.” Garret pointed to the patrol car parked near the entrance. “Not sure if that's for us or someone visiting Michael. But reassuring.”

Megan was tempted to leave her bait bag in the car, but knew that would be defeating its intended purpose, so instead she looped the strap over her shoulder and strolled toward the hospital.

“This fog is getting heavier,” she said absently as Garret led the way between some parked cars. “Kind of puts a damper on the—” Her breath and words were wiped out as someone slammed her from behind. She let out a terrified scream as she smashed into a parked car, then tumbled down to the pavement.

EIGHTEEN

B
y the time Garret helped Megan to her feet, her bag and her attacker were gone. Along with the fake envelope. Garret ushered her over to the patrol car, relaying the information to the officers and pointing out the direction the attacker had gone. “I would've chased him,” he said breathlessly, “but I was worried about Megan—didn't want to leave her alone.”

The patrol car took off, and Garret turned his attention back to getting Megan safely inside the hospital. Once inside, he turned to stare intently into her eyes. “Are you sure you're okay? That was quite a fall you took.”

She rubbed a sore elbow then tested the knee that had absorbed her tumble. “I think so.”

“Want to get checked?” He pointed toward the ER with a half smile. “Lots of docs here.”

“No, thank you.” She frowned. “But now that they got our bait they'll know we were trying to trick them.”

He nodded somberly. “I hope this doesn't make them believe we don't have the real papers. That was our safety net.”

“I know.”

“I'll get Michael's room number.” He nodded as they walked into the hospital and toward the information desk.

“I want to get that for Michael.” She pointed to a stuffed Curious George doll outfitted like a doctor that was in the gift shop window.

Garret grinned. “Great idea.”

She went into the gift shop and took the plush toy to the register, picking out a get well card too. As she waited for the cashier, she noticed some interesting quilted bags hanging nearby. They had an ethnic look to them and were actually rather attractive.

“Those are made by a local woman who donates all the proceeds to Samaritan's Purse,” the cashier informed her.

“What a fabulous idea.” Megan fingered the sturdy fabric. “I support Samaritan's Purse, too.” Suddenly, she remembered that her oversize bag had just been stolen and that her parka pockets were bulging with items in need of a handbag. She selected her favorite one and laid it on the counter just as Garret came into the shop. “I don't need a sack,” she told the cashier, asking for scissors to remove the price tags.

“Nice,” Garret said as he joined her.

“Handy, too.” She gave him the monkey and card as she unloaded her pockets, putting the wallet and few other things into the bag. As they rode the elevator up, she noticed her disheveled image in the mirror, taking a moment to smooth her hair and even wipe some dirty smudges from one side of her face. “You didn't tell me I was a mess,” she said teasingly to Garret.

“You look beautiful to me,” he replied as the door slid open.

Her sore elbow and knee instantly felt better. And as they exited the elevator, she tried to imagine what their relationship might be like under normal circumstances. She hoped his kindness wasn't simply part of his chivalry and helpfulness.

“How about we don't mention that last assault to Michael,” she suggested, pausing at the nurses' station to write in his card. “No need to worry him.”

“I couldn't agree more.”

To Megan's relief, Michael looked much better than the last time she'd seen him. They visited with him for a while, telling him recent details of the unsolved case, but trying to paint a more positive picture than Megan felt was real. Still, it was good to see him smiling. And it was good to hear his prognosis for a full recovery. But he soon grew tired and they told him goodbye.

“He seemed in good spirits,” Megan said as they exited the hospital.

“But I can tell he's still working on the case.” Garret cautiously looked left and right. “I could see the wheels spinning in his head while we told him about last night at Marco's.”

“Maybe he'll come up with something helpful.” She glanced around too.

“Stay near me.” Garret wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close. “And let's walk fast.”

Soon they were inside his SUV, but Megan continued to keep a watchful eye while Garret drove them to town. Fortunately, they didn't see anyone following them and when they got to the newspaper, she was relieved to see that her car was parked in front and the tires were intact. She pointed to the patrol car parked conspicuously in front of her car. “And I've even got protection,” she said as she got out.

“Even so, I'm going in with you,” he insisted as he got out of the car, walking her to the door. But before she could insert her key, the door swung open and Arthur and Barb both welcomed her with warm hugs, and an armed officer sat in a nearby chair with a mug of coffee. “I can see you're in good hands,” he said after he greeted the employees. “Call me if you need anything.”

She promised to do so and then he exited the building with a feeling of determination brewing within him. He wanted to surprise Kent with this unexpected morning visit. Hopefully, getting caught off guard would help him to slip up. Garret's plan was to play oblivious. At least to start with. Then, if Kent wasn't cooperative, Garret would play tough.

He parked in front of the shabby-looking apartment complex and quickly surveyed the scene. To his relief, Kent's unit, although upstairs, was visible from the street. But as he went up the exterior stairs, Garret silently prayed. And then, without wasting a moment, he knocked firmly on the door.

When it opened, the stench of old cigarette smoke and filth rolled out and Kent, wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and boxers, looked red-eyed and reeked of alcohol. “Hey, Kent,” Garret said cheerfully. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“What about?”

“Well, for starters I've been concerned about you. Thought maybe you were sick or something.”

“I'm not sick.” Kent rubbed his unshaven chin. “What'd'ya want, anyway?”

“I'm just checking on my employee,” Garret said evenly. “Want to know why you're not showing up for work. Or did you quit and forgot to tell me?”

Kent looked slightly confused.

“I mean, I noticed you're working at Marco's on the Waterfront now.” Garret gave him a blank look.

“Yeah, but that's just nights.”

“So you want to keep working for me?” Garret frowned doubtfully.

“I dunno.” Kent glanced over his shoulder with a slightly nervous expression.

“Because I have to say, I'm not that impressed with your mechanical ability.”

“Yeah, well...”

“What's going on with you and the Marco brothers?” Garret demanded. “Do you know about their mob connections or are you just one of their expendable pawns?” He leaned toward him with narrowed eyes.

“I don't have to talk to you.” Kent started to close his door, but Garret blocked it with his foot.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Garret said. “You're in deep with the Marco boys, aren't you? And that makes you a prime suspect in the murder of Rory McCallister.”

The door opened a bit more. “You can't pin that on me.”

Garret peered into his eyes. “I think I can. Wade just told me this morning that he remembers seeing you lurking around the marina on Thursday morning. And yet you didn't report for work that day. But you had access to Rory's boat. You had time to do something to it. I think that's what happened.”

“You can't prove that.”

“You're wrong, Kent,” Garret bluffed. “The evidence is already stacking up against you. Your best hope is to come clean and see if the cops will cut you a break for—”

“Get outta here!” Kent yelled.

“I just wanted to give you a chance,” Garret said calmly. “But looks like you'd rather do this the hard way.”

Kent swore loudly and somewhat incoherently as Garret removed his foot from the doorway. The flimsy door slammed closed and Garret knew Kent was involved. He felt relieved to see other neighbors looking out, curious about the noise as he hurried away from the apartment complex. Once in his SUV, he called Detective Greene and shared this new information. “I think you should bring him in for questioning,” Garret told him. “Scare him enough and you might get him to talk. Because I'm certain he was involved in Rory McCallister's so-called accident.”

As Garret drove through town, he felt worried about Megan and suddenly realized he hadn't bothered to get her new cell phone number. Although he knew she should be safe with Arthur and Barb with her at the newspaper office, he just wasn't certain. But when he called the newspaper's phone, Barb answered, assuring him that Megan was just fine.

“And the policeman's still there?”

“Working on another cup of coffee as we speak.”

“How's the search going?” Garret asked. “Getting warmer?”

“No,” she said glumly. “I really don't think that envelope is here.”

“Yeah, that seems like the most obvious place, doesn't it? Rory was smarter than that.”

“Do you want to talk to Megan?”

“Not right now. Just tell her I'm going back to the marina to take care of some business. But tell her to call me when she has a moment. I need to get her new cell phone number.”

“Arthur and I are both so glad she has you to lean on, Garret. I know Rory would be very appreciative, too.”

Garret thanked her and hung up. As he drove to the marina, keeping a lookout for anything suspicious, he thought about Rory. Had he even realized what a hornets' nest he'd poked into when he started his investigation? Had he ever considered that his life could be endangered, or his daughter's? Garret didn't think so. But he knew Rory well enough to know that he'd been impetuous and strong-willed. He marched into places that others avoided. Like David and Goliath, Rory had been unafraid to take on the giants in his life. Hopefully, his old friend's efforts wouldn't be for nothing.

It was close to one by the time Megan called. Her voice was tired and discouraged. “I'm done here and I just told Arthur and Barb to go home.”

“So you'll be there alone?” Garret didn't like the sound of that.

“My armed guard is still here. Besides, I'm getting ready to leave, too.”

“Why don't you meet me for lunch?” he said eagerly.

“That actually sounds good.”

“How about The Bridgeview?” he suggested, remembering how he loved going there as a kid. “We could do it in memory of your dad.”

“Oh, Garret, that sounds wonderful. Let's meet there.”

“Only if you ask your armed guard to escort you.”

“He looks like he might be ready for lunch, too.” She chuckled.

“Whoever gets there first can save a table,” Garret told her.

* * *

Despite her disappointment at not finding the envelope, Megan's spirits lifted as she thought about dining at The Bridgeview. What a great idea to eat there in honor of her dad. It was just what she needed. She hadn't seen the place in years. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too crowded because, even though the cool, foggy weather wasn't too welcoming, the tourists were still all over town.

With her police escort tailing her, she drove past Marco's on the Waterfront and shuddered. She had no desire to return there—ever. Not that they would care since they already had a line outside their entrance.

Driving on, she saw that The Bridgeview's parking lot held very few cars. Hopefully, they were open. She got out and hurried through the damp air, the haunting sound of the foghorn reminding her of her childhood. To her delight, the front door was open. But as soon as she stepped inside, she felt the difference. Something had changed in here.

Looking around, she could see the restaurant was run-down. The wood floors needed refinishing, the tables and chairs were worn and shabby and the walls looked dreary and sad. Even the restaurant's old owner, Marty, looked like he'd seen better days. Although his eyes lit up to see her.

“I'm surprised you're not busier,” she said after they exchanged greetings. “Especially on Memorial Day weekend.”

Marty just shook his head. “Between Marco's and the casino's restaurants, we haven't been too busy the past couple of years.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, I told the wife that if business doesn't pick up, we'll have to shut down.”

“I sure hope that doesn't happen.”

Megan spotted Garret entering the restaurant. “There's my, uh, lunch companion.”

“Garret Larsson?” Marty nodded with approval. “Good for you, Megan. Good for both of you.”

Megan's cheeks warmed at the insinuation. And yet she liked it, too. Who cared if someone assumed they were a couple? She smiled as she eagerly waved to Garret. Glad to be reunited with him, she felt safer as he came closer. Marty and Garret shook hands and before long they were ordering lunch—both of them chose fish and chips with coleslaw.

After Marty returned to the kitchen, Garret told her about Kent. “He had guilty written all over him.” He scowled. “I can't believe I ever let Wade talk me into hiring him.”

“Did Wade know what he was really like, what kind of person he was getting you involved with?”

Garret shook his head. “No, I don't think so. Wade isn't the sharpest crayon in the box, but he's not malicious. He doesn't like the Marco brothers any more than I do.”

“Why didn't the police take Kent in last night?” Megan asked.

“Good question. Apparently they felt certain they had the two main suspects. Kent didn't interest them.”

“So Kent is still out there...” Megan nervously twisted the paper napkin. “As well as the creep who knocked me down in the hospital parking lot...along with who knows how many other thugs.” She glanced anxiously around the restaurant, where only a few tables were occupied, and then out over the river, where a thick blanket of fog was rolling in. She no longer felt safe. Not even with Garret there.

It wasn't long before Marty brought out their lunches. They thanked him and then Garret bowed his head and not only said a blessing, but also gave thanks for the life of Rory McCallister and asked God to help them bring justice to Cape Perpetua.