As Good as Dead (25 page)

He chuckled. “Not everyone can be trusted. Unfortunately, my family has made some enemies.” Pulling out her cell phone, he examined it a moment.

Angel’s heart plummeted. The phone was closed and off, leaving her to wonder when the transmission to Callen had stopped. Had Callen heard anything?

They were driving out of town now, heading into the mountains. “Where are we going?” Angel asked.

“We have a condo out here along the lake. It’s quite lovely.”

“You have a condo? Do you own it or are you renting?”

“Time-share program. Our family has the use of condos all over the world. I’ve never been to this one.”

“So you just call and get a condo at a moment’s notice?”

“We do. Money buys a great many things, Angel.”

“I suppose it does.”

“Now, then. Let’s talk about your hunch.”

“First tell me how you knew Luke was here—or maybe you should tell me how you knew he was still alive?”

“A hunch. You see, six years ago, we received word that Luke had been killed and his body dumped into the swamp along Alligator Alley along with the weapon used to kill the infamous witness and his bodyguard. My father never quite believed the story that he was dead. You see, the DA at that time, along with your brother, caused my family a great deal of pain with all the accusations against us. They had nothing except this phony witness. Stanton had nothing on the family and was seeking revenge because we fired him.”

“Are you saying this whole mob thing...”

“A scam. All hype. All that Al Capone nonsense is history and has nothing to do with us.”

“Why was the witness murdered?”

He shrugged and lifted his hands. “How can I know such a thing? Maybe the person who hired him to lie also hired the hit.”

Angel doubted he was telling the truth, but she couldn’t dismiss the notion either. Could the DA at the time have wanted to put the Penghetti brothers away so badly that he was willing to hire someone to testify against them? Angel could see how that might happen. How often did police know that a certain person was guilty but that person went free because there was not enough evidence to convict? From what Rachael had said, the DA wanted the Penghetti brothers locked up and put away for good. Still, to buy a witness?

She needed to talk to Luke. He’d have a better idea of what his boss might have been capable of. What was the guy’s name again? Angel recalled her conversation with Rachael. Alton Delong.

Bernie was wrong about one thing, though. The mob was very much alive, only the bosses were subtler, covering their operations with legitimate businesses.

“I promised my father I would find out the truth about the DA and about Luke,” Bernie said. “To do that I must talk to your brother as well as to the man who killed the witness. Perhaps this evasive hit man can tell us who hired him. I can only suspect that your brother was in on the plan. How else would he have gotten away, and why did he feel the need to change his identity? As you can see, I have a lot of questions.”

Angel massaged her temples, working to deter the beginnings of a headache.

“Are you all right?” Bernie leaned forward, catching her gaze.

“I’m confused. My head hurts.”

“I’m sorry.” He opened a compartment in the door and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. Taking off the lid, he said, “These should help.” Angel held out her hand as he shook two of the white tablets onto her palm.

Reaching back into the compartment, he brought out a glass and a container of bottled water. Angel took the aspirin and handed him back the near empty glass. “Thanks.” She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to talk to Bernie anymore. It was all too crazy. Was he as innocent as he said? Could the DA have been involved? And worse, had Luke known?

No. It wasn’t possible. Angel didn’t know how long her mind batted around the information she’d gathered in her head. She only knew that there were too many players, too many rabbit trails, and she was getting tired of following them.

“We’re here, Angel.”

She raised her head, startled by the strange voice. “Where...”

“It’s all right,” Bernie said in an altogether normal tone. “You fell asleep.”

She hadn’t but didn’t bother to correct him. “Where are we?”

“At the condo.”

Dan opened the door and offered a hand to help her out. They were in a parking structure with spots for maybe fifty cars. Angel could do little more than follow Bernie into the main living quarters. The door from the garage led into a utility room. From there they went into a cozy kitchen with a bar, which opened to a comfortable-looking living room with a fireplace. The room looked out over a lake, probably another part of Lake Coeur d’Alene.

“Nice place.”

“It will do.” He removed his suit jacket and hung it in the closet. “Can I take your coat?”

“I’ll keep it on for a while.” Angel hugged herself. The room was cool, and no wonder. The sun had hidden itself behind thick, dark clouds.

“Looks like a storm brewing.” Bernie flipped a switch, bringing the gas fireplace to life. “This should warm things up for you.”

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Dan asked.

“Tea.” Her headache was gone, but the confusion remained. Bernie was treating her like a houseguest.

Dan set a basket on the counter. “What kind?”

She picked out a package of Earl Grey.

Dan nodded. “I’ll have your water ready in a minute.”

Angel hitched herself up onto a bar stool and watched the man fill a mug with water and put it in the microwave. She should have been frightened, terrified of these two, but she wasn’t. Something about Bernie and even Dan made her wonder if she or Kinsey and Marie had ever been in danger.

Bernie sat down at a desk near the sliding patio doors and slid a laptop out of his briefcase and set it up beside a small printer. He plugged the computer in and connected the USB cable to the box supporting a cable network. Turning on the computer, he turned to face her. “I’d like to show you what I’ve found in my investigation of the DA I told you about.”

“Luke’s boss.”

“Yes. How much do you know about him?”

She shrugged, trying to remember what Rachael had told her. “His name is Alton Delong, and he quit a while back to open his own firm.”

“Yes. But there’s more.” Bernie turned back to the computer and began typing.

“Bring your tea when it’s ready and sit here beside me. I have something to show you.”

The timer went off on the microwave, and Dan brought out the steaming water and dropped the tea bag into it. After a few seconds, he handed it to her along with a small dish on which to put the tea bag. Angel didn’t like her tea all that strong and took out the bag immediately. “Thank you.” Angel glanced at Dan, who was ducking into the refrigerator and pulling out a package.

“You’re welcome.” Lifting the package, he said, “You like steak?”

She nodded.

“Then you’re in luck.”

“You cook too? A man of many talents.”

“It’s all part of my job.”

“As bodyguard?”

He raised a blond eyebrow. “As a gentleman’s gentleman.”

Whatever.
Angel took her cup and padded over to where Bernie sat intent on the computer screen.

“Take a look at this man, Angel. Have you ever seen him before?”

“No.” Angel continued to stare at the man on the screen. This had been Luke’s boss, the man Bernie was accusing of paying off the witness to lie about them. She’d been ready to shrug off Bernie’s allegations, but what if he was right? What if the DA had hired a witness to lie about the Penghetti brothers? Could he have been the one who hired Justin? Hadn’t Justin told her his boss was in Florida? That would make sense. She had to show the photo of this man to Justin, along with the ones she had of the Penghetti brothers. But how was she going to do that? She doubted Bernie and Dan would take her back to town and especially not to the jail.

FORTY

L
uke awoke in the middle of the night with cramps in his arms. He’d dozed off from time to time, but having his wrist cuffed to the bedpost made sleep nearly impossible. Across the room, his captor was snoring. Trying to relieve the pain, Luke scooted up into the bed until his head hit the headboard.

He’d been reliving the six-year-old nightmare for hours, half dreaming, half awake and ruminating.
If this man was the one in the apartment, if he was the murderer, why hasn’t he just killed me? There’d been plenty of opportunities. On the drive up, he could have put a bullet in my head and thrown me off the road into the dense woods.

God, I don’t want to die. I’m grateful that I’m still alive, and for those wonderful years with Kinsey and Marie, but it makes no sense that he’d bring me here. Why would he have a cabin here? Had he known all along where I was? Had he come here often to keep an eye on me?

Luke had no doubt that the Penghetti brothers had hired a hit on the witness and the guard.
The hit man should have killed me too, but what was it he’d said?
He’d called himself my savior. He’d also indicated that I would be suspect in the deaths.
That certainly had happened. Luke had boarded a bus that day and gotten as far as New Orleans. Even there, the papers carried the news. Police were looking for Luke Delaney as a person of interest in the slaying. Terrified he’d be recognized, he’d colored his hair, bought a pair of glasses, and stopped shaving, which provided him with a semblance of a disguise. At any rate, no one had recognized him.

But had the hit man followed him? Luke didn’t see how that was possible. Which meant he’d heard the news of Frank Delaney’s heart attack and death. It was the only way he could have known. But why had this guy abducted him? Why not kill him and be done with it?

I’m a threat to him. Or am I? If I had to take the stand and swear that this man killed Stanton and the guard, could I?

Somewhere amid the growing turmoil in Luke’s mind, he must have had a moment’s peace, because suddenly it was light and he smelled bacon cooking in the kitchen. The handcuffs had been removed. Luke sat up in bed, toying with the idea of quietly dressing and escaping through the window. It was open a crack, and Luke could smell the fresh, crisp mountain air and see the blurred landscape that was the lake and forest.

The clothes and shoes he’d left at the end of the bed were gone. Luke sighed. The man thought of everything.

“I thought I heard you.” His captor stood at the end of the bed now, smiling and acting as though they were old buddies on a fishing trip. “Breakfast is ready. Turkey bacon and eggs.” Dropping Luke’s clothes and shoes on the bed, he added, “You’ll want these, no doubt.”

Luke groped around on the nightstand for his glasses, but by the time he got them on, the guy had gone back into the kitchen. Luke used the facilities and washed up, then went back to put on his shoes. There might be time. If he could slide open the window and make it to the lake, he could take the boat he’d spotted on the dock when they arrived.

He had to try. The window, stiff and tight, finally offered a wide enough opening for Luke to slip through. Standing outside, he could almost taste freedom. He broke into a run. Only twenty or so yards to the dock. Almost there.

The unmistakable sound of a gunshot and the searing white-hot pain reached Luke at the same time. Luke dove to the ground, his hope pouring out like the blood soaking his slacks.

He lay on his stomach, listening for the footsteps, for the second shot that would leave Kinsey a widow and little Marie fatherless.

FORTY-ONE

A
ngel’s gaze flitted between Bernard Penghetti and the gentleman’s gentleman, Dan. As crazy as the request sounded, she had to ask. “I need to show Justin Moore this picture of the DA. If you’re telling the truth and your father and uncle didn’t hire a hit, then maybe this guy did. Maybe he hired Justin as well.”

“Who is this Justin?”

Angel told him about the man she’d collared. “Justin told me he saw his boss and actually talked with him.” She hesitated, looking at the photo of the DA. “Alton Delong had gray hair. He might be the guy who abducted Luke.”

Bernie shook his head. “I hope not. If he did, your brother doesn’t have a chance.”

Angel didn’t want to hear that. Her mind reeled with the possibility that Bernie might actually be on to something. “The police need this photo too so they can be looking for him.”

Without acknowledging her comment, Bernie placed the cursor on the printer icon and clicked the mouse. The printer made noises letting them know it had gotten the message. His features drawn and eyes distant, Bernie moved his chair back and went into the kitchen and took down a glass.

“You didn’t answer me. What about showing the picture to Justin and the police?”

“Yes, that’s a very good idea, Angel. We’ll email the information and a copy of the photo.” He filled the glass with ice and opened the fridge, pulling out a two-liter bottle of cola. “Would you like some?”

Angel lifted her cup. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Would you like to send the information now? Since you are an insider, you undoubtedly know how to access the authorities.”

“Sure.” They were giving her access to the computer?

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to make some phone calls.” Bernie went upstairs, and a moment later Angel heard the door close.

Dan must have seen the perplexed look on her face. “He’s concerned about his family. His youngest son isn’t doing well.”

“What’s wrong?”

“He needs a heart transplant.”

Angel gasped. “And Bernie is here?”

“They’re waiting, have been for weeks. If they ever find a donor, I’m sure he’ll leave immediately.” Dan placed the potatoes he’d cut up into a pan with water and salted them. After opening the package of steaks, he rubbed some kind of spice on them.

“What’s that stuff?”

“A rub. A mixture of coffee, cocoa, and cinnamon.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Coffee?”

He smiled. “It’s great.” He motioned toward the computer. “You’d better send that message.”