Cold Target (47 page)

Dom stood. “I have to go to the shelter and make sure the kids understand what's happening. Then I'm with you.”

“Tonight,” Gage said. “Let's meet at, say, nine.”

DeWitt nodded. “Where?”

“At a shack I own not far from here. Can you drive down here again?”

“Give me the directions.”

Gage wrote them down. “Honk your horn when you arrive. We might be a little cautious.”

DeWitt raised one eyebrow, nodded, then left without saying anything else.

Gage and Meredith reached Mary's Crafts and Gifts just before closing time.

They both browsed, then approached the middle-aged woman at the desk. “Are you Mary?” Meredith asked.

“Yes,” the woman said. “Mary Sartain. Can I help you?”

“I saw a metal sculpture that someone bought here. It was a dancing pig for a garden. I was hoping you might have another.”

“That must be Holly's work,” Mary said. “I don't have any in stock now. Couldn't keep them in. She made only a few a month.”

Meredith didn't have to feign disappointment. “Do you know where else I can look?”

The woman looked as she was trying to make up her mind about something, then shrugged. “I haven't seen her recently. Perhaps two months or so. But I did see something on a website that looked familiar. Perhaps if you give me your name, I can order one for you.”

“Would you mind sharing the website with me?” Meredith said. “Of course I would pay you for your trouble.”

“It's not that. It's …”

“What?” Meredith said.

“It's probably not her work at all. I got the impression her husband didn't like her selling her work. Someone else was in here.…”

“Who?”

“I don't know. But he was looking for her, too.”

“Do you know where she is?” Gage had entered the conversation. He started to pull out his wallet. Stopped.

Meredith knew he had been about to show his badge. But he didn't have one now. Because of her.

The woman shook her head. “No.”

“Did you tell him about the website?”

“I didn't like the way he looked,” she said. “I did not.”

Meredith decided to tell the truth. It was the only way they were going to get information. “I'm her sister. I'm looking for her. I have reason to believe she might be in grave danger.”

“But surely her husband …”

In for a penny, in for a pound. She didn't have time to be nice. “He might be part of the problem.”

The woman looked at both of them. Meredith took a card from her purse. “I'm Meredith Rawson. This is Detective Gage Gaynor with the police department. We really need your help.”

“You do have her eyes,” Mary said. Yet she still hesitated.

Meredith liked the fact she was trying to protect Holly. There must be something about her sister that people liked, that they wanted to protect.

Finally the woman seemed to make up her mind. She turned on the computer on her desk. “I regularly check out new craft sites,” she said. “I'm always looking for something new, unique. Holly's art was that. Whimsical and fun. I can't be sure this is hers, but it has a certain style that I would almost swear is her work.”

She turned the screen so Meredith could see it. Special Things. The address was in Bisbee, Arizona. She stared at a display of items called Garden Folk.

“Is there anything about the artist?” Meredith asked.

“No, I already checked. No information available.”

She and Gage looked at each other.

“Thank you,” she said, and preceded Gage out of the shop. She felt jumpy all of a sudden, restless and expectant. After all that had happened, she might finally have a solid lead. The look Gage had given her said he felt it, too.

“We can fly out later tonight,” she said.

“Not from New Orleans,” he countered.

“Surely you don't think …”

“I don't know what to think,” Gage said. “If Judge Matthews is involved, he has tentacles in every parish in Louisiana and every part of government. He's a kingmaker in this state.”

“Then where?”

“We'll drive to Birmingham and catch a flight from there.”

“What about Beast?”

“Maybe DeWitt will keep him.”

Meredith looked dubious.

“He does have charm,” he defended the dog.

“Perhaps on further acquaintance,” she said with a small grin.

“If necessary I'll board him. But if they would kill a woman for no better reason than she was a friend years ago, they wouldn't hesitate to kill a dog.”

“Why didn't they do it before?”

“Maybe they didn't want to make me mad,” he said.

“Didn't work,” she said, keeping her voice light even though urgency was eating her alive. What if Holly was in danger? What if they might lead someone to her?

Dom was at the shack when they arrived. Beast was lying at his feet. The dog rose lazily, went over to them and sniffed.

Dom stood, a beer in his hand. “I have people looking into the background of the building inspectors. In the meantime, we have ten days. We've always met every building code.”

“What about the kids?”

“They'll be okay for a few days. They're not exactly sure what's happening but they trust me. I told them it would be okay.” He studied their expressions. “You've found something?”

“We think she might be in Bisbee, Arizona.”

“Where in the hell is that?”

“Just north of the Mexican border. East and south of Tucson,” Meredith said. She had called Sarah's cell phone on the way to the cabin and asked her to look up the town and find the best way to get there from Birmingham.

“And?”

“There's a flight from Birmingham to Phoenix. We can catch a flight from Phoenix to Tucson.”

“Make it three tickets,” Dom said.

“The shelter?”

“Paul Simonsom is handling the legal matter. My two assistants can handle the shelter itself until I return. They've been bugging me to take a vacation. And it's probably better that I'm not there. I might just try to hurt someone.”

They waited. Nine o'clock. Nine-thirty. Meredith started to worry. They needed to head out if they were going to catch the morning flight.

Then Beast barked as a car honked from down the road. Two minutes later a car drove up to the cabin, and DeWitt got out. Beast ran out as if he was going to bite off his leg. Just before he reached DeWitt, he stopped, sat and panted eagerly.

“You still have this monster?” DeWitt asked. “This is a hell of a place to find.”

“That's the idea,” Gage said.

DeWitt went inside, saw the minimal furnishings and chose a straight chair.

“Found a will. Wasn't easy but it is public record.”

“And …?”

“Judge Matthews stood to inherit only half his father's estate unless he had issue. Not adoption. A blood child. How archaic is that?” He shrugged as if to ignore his own question. “A child was born to his wife in Memphis, February 15. A girl. It happened four months after his father's death.”

Silence filled the cabin. “Blood tests done?” Gage asked.

“Yes, the executor demanded it. But they could be faked. So could the birth certificate.”

“We didn't look for one under Matthews,” Meredith said.

DeWitt looked at them. “We still don't have any proof of murder. Fraud perhaps, but that will work only if we find the woman and get new blood tests.”

“We might know where she is,” Meredith said.

“Where?”

Gage shook his head. “The fewer people who know—”

“Hell with that, Gaynor. What if something happened to you or Meredith? No one would ever know what happened.”

Meredith felt a new chill creep down her back. She nodded in agreement. Someone else should know … just in case. DeWitt would profit the most by handling the information with care and keeping it to himself until the time was right to release it. “Bisbee, Arizona.”

“I know it. An artist colony.”

“We're going to drive to Birmingham and get a flight to Phoenix in the morning.”

The reporter looked torn. “Wish I could go, but I just received a call from Ames. I can talk to his wife at ten tomorrow morning. I think I should do so. I'm also looking into the closing of the shelter. My usual source in that department wouldn't talk.”

“I have a favor,” Gage said.

DeWitt's expression was cautious.

“Look after Beast for me. I don't want to leave him at home.”

“You've got to be kidding. My wife would kill me.”

“She'll love him,” Gage said. “He brings in the morning paper.”

“She likes cats. Small ones.”

“Beast is very tolerant.”

“Gaynor, you're out of your mind.”

“Just for two days. If it doesn't work, you can drop him at a kennel. He'll not be happy but it's better than dead.”

DeWitt looked at him as if he were mad. “Right. Lay on the guilt,” he muttered.

“It's for the good of the story,” Gage cajoled. “You can put his steak on the expense account.”

“Steak?” DeWitt's voice was strangled.

“Well, hamburger will do in a pinch.”

Meredith saw the wicked gleam in Gage's eyes.

“Damn you, Gaynor.”

“You won't be saying that when you win the Pulitzer for your exclusive story. Besides, he's a good guard dog.”

“Yeah. Maybe I won't have a home to guard.” But he took the dog's leash. Beast followed happily enough.

An hour later Gage, Meredith and Dom were on the road to Birmingham.

thirty

N
EW
O
RLEANS

“We might have found her,” Samuel Matthews told his son-in-law as they met for breakfast. They sat in the corner of an out-of-the-way restaurant and talked in low voices. There was no one nearby.

“Where is she?”

“Arizona. A little town near the Mexican border called Bisbee.”

“How …?”

“The craft business. Our guys found a sculpture on the Internet. It's almost identical to the one she left at your house. Of course, there are hundreds, probably thousands, of people doing this type of thing, but there is a very close resemblance. My people are flying down in a private plane to check it out. There's a nearby airport.”

“They know what to do?”

“Yes.”

“I want my son.”

“Impossible. He's smart. You know that.”

“We can keep him away from anyone for a while. I can hire someone to look after him.”

“The decision has already been made,” Matthews snapped, cutting off the conversation. This damned business had already taken too long. Court was in recess, but he had a dozen cases to review, several opinions to draft.

Dammit. He stood to lose everything because of a moment's carelessness. Randolph had assured him that the house was empty when they'd had the unfortunate phone conversation, that Holly was taking Mikey to the preschool they had so carefully selected. He hadn't known the boy had a stomach upset, that she was waiting for a call from the doctor and had picked up the phone when he'd called.

He hadn't known until he heard a click on the phone that someone had overheard him talking about campaign money from gambling interests—from, in fact, gambling interests that reached deep into organized crime. Any hint of involvement would destroy his career.

It was damnable bad luck for him and stupidity on Randolph's part.

He'd never felt much for Holly. Although she was a beautiful woman, he'd always considered her weak and not very intelligent. But she'd fulfilled her role quite nicely until now, and in turn he had assured her a powerful husband and prosperous life.

How could he not have seen the rebellion that lurked inside? She'd always been such a compliant little thing.

Now he could end it once and for all, and settle back into his life. The friendships of some of the most important people in Louisiana, even Washington. He was powerful. Respected. He had worked every day of his life to get to where he was, and no little fool was going to end it.

He shrugged. “Anyway, it's too late. They have their orders. We need to start thinking about some press releases for you.”

“I have that call, remember?” Randolph said. “DeWitt will be at my office this morning, expecting to talk to my wife.”

“I have you covered. One of my people has found a woman in California. He's filled her in completely. She knows all about Holly. Maybe that will get DeWitt off your back.”

“I don't know. He's damned persistent.”

“Well, in a couple of days, he will have a grief-stricken husband and father to interview.” He handed Randolph a number. “Tell him it's a cell phone. Memorize it, because you should know it by heart.”

“Have you found that damned cop and the Rawson woman?”

“No, and Cross has disappeared as well. That's why we have to get rid of all of them. They can't find her or Mikey. They can't get her DNA, or the whole damn mess will unravel.”

Randolph closed his eyes. Then opened them. “What if they find her first?”

Matthews detected a thin note of hope in Randolph's voice. He decided to placate the man. A little.

“I've thought about that. I've told a friend of mine on a confidential basis that your wife has stolen your child, that she is mentally unbalanced. He issued a custody order. Perhaps we won't need it. But we have it if we do. Holly will do or say anything to keep Michael. We can bargain with her. Then we can take our time in solving the problem.” He looked at Randolph. “I never leave anything to chance. You should know that by now.”

He didn't like the look on his son-in-law's face as he nodded. Perhaps he'd overestimated Randolph Ames's ambitions. He hadn't expected this sudden sentimentality.