As Good as Dead (22 page)

Her first inclination was to leave the guy there and let the police pick him up, but after thinking about it, she decided to go back. Once the police arrested him, she’d probably never get the chance to talk to him, and she had far too many unanswered questions to let that happen.

Under the cushions, she found some first aid supplies, including a flashlight and blankets. Fortunately, the sun wouldn’t go down for another four or five hours. Time enough to interrogate him, then motor to the marina and call the police. Angel ran the boat as close as she could to shore, stopping only when she heard a slight scrape on the bow. She grabbed the mooring line and took the blankets ashore and dropped one of them on the poor slob, who was still blubbering. Angel shook her head. In all her years as a cop, she’d never seen such a poor excuse for a bad guy.

She tied the boat to one of the larger branches, after making sure it was well connected.

Through chattering teeth he stammered, “Y-you’re not going to l-leave me tied up like this, are y-you? I can’t move and I... I’m freezing.”

“I can make you more comfortable, but I suggest you not try anything.” She picked up the gun she’d set down on a nearby piece of driftwood to dry. Angel loosened the knots, releasing his feet, then allowed him to turn around before she secured his feet to a fallen tree and retied his hands to the front. Once she’d gotten him tied back up, she draped the blanket over his shoulders. Their clothes were steaming as the sun warmed them.

Angel moved away from him and sank down on a tree stump. She picked up the second blanket but set it aside. With all the activity, she’d worked up a sweat.

“What are you going to do now?” He’d stopped sniveling and seemed almost relieved.

“Turn you over to the authorities.”

“I figured as much.”

“Who are you, anyway?” Angel asked. When he didn’t answer, she said, “Look, the police will fingerprint you and we’ll figure it out in no time. So what’s your name?”

“Why don’t you just kill me?”

“Believe me, I’d like to. But unlike you, I don’t kill people, I arrest them.”

“All I wanted to do was make a few bucks.”

“You could have tried getting a real job. That’s what most people do.”

“You don’t understand.”

Angel rolled her eyes. “You’re right about that.” After a brief silence she asked, “Tell me who you are.”

“Justin.”

“You got a last name, Justin?”

“Moore.”

Angel picked up the almost dry synthetic wig and swung it around on one finger. “Want your hair back?”

“Very funny.”

“So tell me, Justin, how did a klutz like you end up trying to kill a cop?”

Justin’s shoulders drooped. “I never wanted to kill anybody. A few weeks ago, this guy caught me trying to steal his wallet. I got this deal, you know—I hang out at the casino and pick pockets. If they catch me, I get all teary and tell them I’m sorry, that I got a wife and kid at home and haven’t been able to get work. They usually give me a few bucks. But this guy was different. He asks me if I’m local, and I tell him I am.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. Grew up in Road’s End.”

“How was this guy different?”

“He hired me. Paid me four thousand to watch your family. He told me he was looking for your long-lost brother, and I was supposed to call if he showed up.”

“You were at the funeral. How did you know Luke was there?”

“He fit the description. Except for the beard and stuff. I just knew to look for somebody his height and age. My boss told me he’d probably be by himself. I just figured it was him.”

Justin sniffed and rubbed his hand under his nose.

“How old are you, Justin?”

“What does that matter?”

“Just curious.” Angel blew out a long breath as she examined him. He looked to be in his midtwenties, but his mental state didn’t seem to fit with the age. He acted more like a teenager. If he was a drug user, the drugs could’ve delayed his development. One thing for sure, he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier.

“When you told your boss that you’d found Luke, what did he say?”

“That I should kill both of them.”

“Both of them? You told him about Nick too?”

“Yeah. I said that killing wasn’t part of the deal, but then he offered me more money. A lot more money.”

“How much?”

“Twenty thousand. I got half the money from shooting Nick, ’cause I sent my boss the picture I took.”

“But Nick isn’t dead.”

The Adam’s apple shifted again. “I know, but I didn’t think the boss would figure it out. I was going to come here and kill Luke and collect the rest of my money and go to Mexico.”

“That means you haven’t found Luke yet?”

“I was hoping you’d lead me to him, only I got tired of waiting and then you gouged me with those stupid keys.”

Angel shook her head, relieved. At least Luke was safe from this creep. “You got shafted, Justin.”

“What do you mean?”

“Twenty thousand to kill two men is peanuts. Hit men get at least sixty thousand a head.”

He stared at the ground. “Even that’s not enough.” Glancing in her direction, he asked, “What’s going to happen now?”

“Depends on how well you cooperate with the police.” She folded her arms and took a step toward him. “What happened to Faith Carlson?”

“Who?”

“The reporter?”

“What reporter?”

Angel sighed. “Come on, Justin, you know who I mean. The woman who was taking pictures at my father’s funeral. The one I found dead in her house.”

He looked out at the lake. “I—I didn’t mean to kill her. I just broke into her house to get the pictures she took of me. Not of me exactly, but she aimed the camera in my direction. I was just gonna take the pictures and get out of there, but there were too many, and she came home while I was looking around. I didn’t know what to do so I wrapped a telephone cord around her neck, and then I pushed her on the floor and ran.”

Angel felt sick and rested her hand on her stomach, working to regain some objectivity and wondering how much more damage the guy had done. “Did you get the pictures?”

“I couldn’t find them, but I figured it would be okay ’cause I look different now.”

If he didn’t have the pictures, then where were they? She rubbed her forehead. “Did you get rid of anyone else, Justin?”

“Can’t we just go now?”

“What about Kinsey Sinclair?”

“I didn’t do nothin’ to her. I was just saying that to make you cooperate.”

“What about Matt, the guy whose clothes and ID you stole? What happened to him?”

Justin chewed on a fingernail. “You ask too many questions.”

“Let me tell you something, Justin. Your boss isn’t going to be too happy when he finds out that you didn’t actually kill Nick. Which means you’re a dead man if and when he gets hold of you. I might be able to help you stay alive, but you’re going to have to do exactly what I say. Where’s Matthew Turlock?”

“At the resort.”

“Where? The resort is a big place. What did you do with him?”

“Maybe I’ll tell the cops. You taking me in?”

So that was it. He didn’t want to tell her everything in case she changed her mind and decided to leave him there or kill him. “I said I was.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you more if you let me go,” Justin said.

“Believe me, your chances of survival are a lot better with the police than with your boss.” She kicked the bottom of his tennis shoe. “Where is Matt?”

He scowled. “Figure it out yourself.”

“Fine. Get up.” She untied his feet. “We’re going back to the marina. On the way I’m calling the police and having them meet us at the dock. Then you’re going to tell them what you told me. And I’d strongly advise you to tell them what you’ve done with Matt Turlock.”

Justin seemed to have lost his starch in his battle with the lake. He didn’t argue, nor did he try to get away when she instructed him to get into the boat. To be on the safe side, she tied him up in the cabin before going back out to release the craft and get it out into deeper water. Half an hour later, she pulled up to the outside dock, where two police officers were waiting.

“Don’t ask,” she said when Officer Denham looked from her to Justin, then back again, no doubt taking in the still-damp clothes and her stringy hair. “Just keep this guy on ice until I can get changed and get down to the station.”

“Sure.”

“By the way, he told me Matt was here at the hotel. Have you located him yet?”

“No luck.”

“He knows where Matt is, but for some reason he isn’t telling.”

Denham gave her a hand out of the boat.

“And my brother?”

“Sorry, we haven’t found him either.”

Angel thought she saw Justin’s mouth, now devoid of lipstick, turn up at the corner. Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as he seemed. She had a hunch he was using Matt’s whereabouts as a trump card to plea-bargain. And maybe he’d gotten to Luke after all. She wished now she’d spent more time getting answers out of him.

After leaving Justin Moore in Officer Denham’s capable hands, Angel jogged back along the dock and into the resort, briefly peeking into the gallery to make sure Kinsey was all right. She was with a customer. At least Justin had told Angel the truth on that score.

Twenty minutes later, Angel had showered and was wearing jeans and a burgundy turtleneck and a warm jacket. All that time in cold, wet clothes had left her chilled to the bone.

She walked past the gallery and noticed Kinsey talking to the same person. Kinsey halted the conversation and came to the store’s entrance. “Any news about Thomas?”

Angel shook her head. “I take it you haven’t heard from him either?”

“No. I’m going to finish up with my client and pick up Marie.” Tears slipped through despite her struggle to retain her composure. “Where could he be? I hate to think the worst, but I’m...”

“I know, but we need to keep thinking positively. I have to go down to the police station for a while, then I’ll come by the house. We need to talk.”

Kinsey nodded, and Angel instinctively wrapped her arms around the woman. Though she’d only known Kinsey for two days, they were family, and the connection to Luke corded them together. “We’ll find him,” Angel said, feeling like she’d just stolen the lines from her mother. “Just keep praying.”

Ma should be here. You’re not being fair to her by leaving her out.
Eventually she would have to call Ma. But not yet.

The valet brought Angel’s Corvette around, and within five minutes she had parked and was walking into the police station.

“Hello, Angel,” a familiar voice greeted her as she stepped inside.

THIRTY-SEVEN

C
allen!” She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or pleased. Pleased, she decided as she walked into his arms and felt them wrap her in his strength. Definitely pleased.

“What are you doing here?” She pulled away and looked into his dark eyes. “I mean, I’m glad to see you, but what about your meetings and your talk?”

“I had my final presentation this morning and caught the first flight out. I talked to my supervisor, and I’m back on the case. Detective Downs is still tied up with the reporter’s death. He finally found the photos she’d taken at the funeral.”

“At her house?”

He shook his head. “They were in the mailbox.”

“No wonder Justin didn’t find them. Did Detective Downs send them here?”

“Justin?”

“Long story. First tell me about the photos.”

“I’ve already looked through them. There are a number of people I don’t recognize, thought maybe you’d like to have a look.”

“I would.” She hesitated. “First, though, I need to give my statement to these guys. I caught the creep who tried to kill Nick. He’s a piece of work. He killed the reporter too—strangled her with an electric cord.”

“You caught him?” Callen raised an eyebrow, looking none too pleased.

“After he caught me.” She smiled. “Like I said, it’s a long story, and I’m only going to tell it once, so you’d better come with me.”

The interview room was stark and filled with a table and several chairs. Angel sat down in the chair the chief pulled out for her. Another officer had a tape recorder set up, ready and waiting.

Chief Warren rested his hands on the table. “Would you like some coffee or a soft drink?”

“How about an iced vanilla latte?” she teased, hoping to lighten the somber mood.

Warren didn’t seem to appreciate the humor.

“Seriously, some regular coffee is fine.”

“Never let it be said that we don’t treat our visitors well,” the chief responded. “Jake, run over to the coffee shop and get the lady an iced vanilla latte.” He accentuated the last words, leaving no doubt as to his disapproval of her. Callen leaned against the wall, arms folded, taking it all in. Probably wondering what the antagonism was all about.

She stifled her growing annoyance. Okay, so maybe she had overstepped her boundaries. Still, he should be thankful she’d brought the guy in rather than leaving them with another crime to deal with—her murder.

There must have been an espresso place right next door because her latte appeared in less than five minutes, about the time it took to introduce Callen to the others and get the small talk over with.

After taking several sips of her drink, Angel indicated her readiness to begin the interview. Speaking into the microphone, she gave her account of the abduction and how she was able to gain the upper hand. “The problem is, he wouldn’t tell me what he’d done with Matthew. Did you get anything out of him?”

The chief, who’d been quiet while she spoke, got out of his chair and moved toward her. “We haven’t officially interrogated him. Wanted to get your statement first. We have the key to the motel room where he was staying, though. My officers are going through it right now.”

“What about his car? He must have followed me here from Sunset Cove, so we’re probably looking for Oregon plates.”

The chief nodded. “We have a couple guys going over the parking garage at the resort and the adjoining parking areas.”

Callen cleared his throat. “When you find his car, I’d have a look in the trunk.”