Nemesis (Southern Comfort) (30 page)

“Provided they haven’t already found the booty.”

Kathleen simply refused to believe that.   

Anthony leaned back in his chair, arms folded as he cleared his throat.  “One flaw in the logic I can see, Detective Murphy, is your supposition about the renter.  If he fled, why are these men still so focused on the house?  Wouldn’t it follow that he’d take whatever they’re looking for with him, if it’s worth all this trouble?”

Kathleen opened her mouth, closed it.  Damn it, he was right.  And she’d been to
o crazed with worry to think that detail through.  Which was why cops didn’t work on cases to which they were personally connected.

And the house and its supposed contents was the hinge that supported her theory.

“Unless they knew for certain,” Anthony continued, “that the mystery renter hadn’t had a chance to take whatever it was with him.”

“They could have killed him,” Kathleen agreed, some of the muddle clearing up.  “They used Josie Nash to track him down,
maybe?  And then got him out of the way.  Went back to the house to do their search when they thought the coast was clear.”

  Miller watched her in open assessment, finally nodded his head.  “I’ll give you that this bears looking into.  We need to talk to Ms. Mayhew’s security contractors.  See what, if anything, they’ve seen.  Maybe talk to the property manager over at Coastal about the
mysterious renter.  If we’re looking for another body, it pays to have a description.  If we get an accurate ID on him it could help lead us to the identity of the perps.”

“We have an excellent forensic artist on staff,” Kathleen suggested.  “
And he’s a personal friend. I could probably arrange to get him over here to work with her.”  But all that would take time.  And time, right now, was the enemy.

“I just want to give you fair warning that I plan on staying at my brother’s.”  She had some leave coming to her, and she was starting it as of today.  “Somebody needs to watch Sadie’s house, and I know it’s unrealistic to demand you use your manpower until you’re more certain that it’s warranted.”

“Detective Murphy –”

Kathleen waved off Miller’s protest before he could voice it.  “I’m aware that this is not my case, not my jurisdiction.  I know it’s personal and I should back off, but I’m not planning on getting in your way.  Unless I think you’re dropping the ball.  Then I will go through you if I have to.”

Annoyance flashed over Miller’s face, slight amusement over Corelli’s.

“Might be easier,” Anthony said mildly, “if we just try working together.”

Her surprised gaze slammed into his dark one.

“Might be easier,” he continued “for you to tell what’s off, what’s not during the interviews.  We can ask the contractors to come by, and I see no problem with you listening in.”

  She nodded, pleased, appreciative.

“You’ll need an unmarked car, then, watching the house.  If the theory holds that these guys kept Sadie and Declan alive to throw off suspicion, their value plummets if they know we’re onto them.”

“I think we can arrange that,” Miller agreed. 

“So you agree with me,” Kathleen sighed.

“Let’s just say there’s enough here to stir my curiosity.”  

“You have that card with you?”  Anthony asked.  “The one with the contractors’ number.”

“Of course.”  She slid it out of the inside pocket of her linen jacket, passed it across the table.

“You call your artist,” Miller said as he stood.  “I’ll see about enlisting some backup, get a car over to Ms. Mayhew’s ASAP.  Corelli, you handle the contractors.”

“Got it.”  Anthony held up the card.

When Miller had made his retreat from the room, Anthony looked at her with
concern.  “You okay?” he asked gently.

“I will be when we find them.”

“Then let’s get busy,” he suggested, standing and offering a smile.

When she wasn’t half-crazed from worry and grief, she owed a thank you to Anthony Corelli.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“OOOOMMMPH.”

The air rushed out of Sadie’s lungs as she fell flat on her face.  She’d survived two jumps from precarious heights, but a damn tree root had done her in.

“You okay?”  Winded, Dec braced his hands on his knees.  He looked at her through a lock of hair gone damp with the sweat of exertion.

“Fine.”  She spit a leaf from her mouth.  “Just tripped over a… ouch.  Ow.  Ouch.”

“What?  You twist your ankle?”  Declan gingerly lowered himself to squatting as she rolled over and lifted her foot.  The burning sting racing across her left sole suggested she was going to see blood when she looked.

Yep.  A whole bunch of it.  Sadie tried not to go dizzy at the sight of all that red welling amongst the dirt and scratches.

Her empty stomach churned.

Declan took her foot in his hands,
his expression grim as he examined the slice that was sullenly oozing.  “You know, it’s hard not to appreciate the irony of the fact that you, the Imelda Marcos of the Lowcountry, are facing this situation while barefoot.”

“Ha ha.”
 

Sadie might have been irritated if she weren’t so worried.
They’d taken off as soon as they heard that motor, not waiting around to see if it had been friend or foe. Declan had suffered in silence, both in catching her and in the act of running.  She knew he had to be in terrible pain.  Having no shoes was small potatoes in comparison. 

P
hysical discomfort twisted his features as he eased himself down to the ground.  He extended his feet her direction.  “Untie my boots.”

“Dec,” she protested, hating that she’d held them up.  Hating that he was hurt and still trying to protect her.  “I’ll be fine.  And it’s not like they’ll fit me anyway.  It would only slow us down more.”

He leveled her with a look.  “I wasn’t implying you wear my shoes.  But you can at least wear my socks.  They’ll help keep your feet protected.  Just hurry up.  I don’t want to sit around any longer than we have to.”

At that Sadie glanced over her shoulder, the adrenaline of fear creeping back through her veins.  The woods were thick, densely shaded with old growth pine, the undergrowth a sea of spiky saw palmettos that swayed in the rustling breeze.  Sunlight streamed in pale rays that only served to deepen the shifting shadows.

Had that motor been Doug and Billy returning?

Were they out there somewhere, even now?

Shuddering, she turned to Dec’s laces, hands fumbling in her distress.  The smell of the marsh was thicker here, a pungent presence in the air.  Her stomach rebelled again.  The panic she’d been trying so hard to keep down hit her like a fist, hard and swift. 

While they were no longer rotting in the cabin, they weren’t out of the woods yet, literally.  The men could still catch up to them.  They could die from exposure, or starvation.  Gangrene could set in.  One of them might get
bitten by a poisonous spider.

There could be snakes.

The trees seemed suddenly dark and threatening, closing around her in a sickening brown and green swirl.

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” Sadie admitted, resting her forehead against her trembling thighs.

“Better you than me.  It
’s starting to get embarrassing.”

Sadie
lifted her head.  “You’re a real well-spring of warmth and compassion.”

“No need to
butter me up. I already agreed to give you the wood.”

The mixture of mirth and concern swimming in his eyes had her own eyes filling unexpectedly.  “Yo
u’re such an ass,” she told him.

“And all yours, you lucky woman.”

Sadie was starting to think that he meant it.

Determined
, she returned to untying his laces.  The socks – malodorous but thickly cushioned – were fairly quickly exchanged.  It took her a little bit longer to get his boots back on and laced up, but once she’d tied them he tried to stand.

And went sheet white
.

Knowing that pity would only salt the wound, Sadie squelched the urge to offer comfort.  She sighed and held out her hands.  “Let me help you, you big dummy.”

He scowled at her through the obvious pain in his ribs.  “This would go better if you didn’t talk. Although there’s fat chance of that ever happening.”

“If I remember correctly,” Sadie rejoined, grasping the hand he reluctantly extended. “You said you liked my big mouth.”

“There are myriad ways in which I can think to enjoy it. Talking does not happen to be among them.”

Bolstered by their familiar banter, they managed to haul him to his feet. Maintaining at least some semblance of normality was the only way they would get through this.

“Before we run off blindly again, it might behoove us to form a plan.”

“We seem to be headed toward the water,” Sadie commented.  “Maybe we could see if there’s a dock of some kind, try to flag down a passing boat.”

“WE
could,” Declan agreed, trying to ignore the throbbing ache that had switched to his hand.  He was a concert of painful injuries, but at least each one seemed to be playing solo.  Which was odd, but he wouldn’t question it.  Because God help him if they decided to harmonize.  “The only concern is that if the assholes show up, that’s bound to be the first place they look.  And they have the advantage of being both armed and able-bodied.  We leave the shelter of the trees and they could pick us off like a couple of lame ducks.”

“So… you think we should double back?  Maybe try to find a road?”

Declan sort of doubted there was much of a road.  The cabin they’d been imprisoned in was obviously abandoned, and had been for some time.  And assuming there were other cabins around, this time of year didn’t see that many people anxious to utilize their unheated hidey-holes unless they were seriously dedicated fisherman.  He sized up the look of the woods. They could be south of the city, possibly in some of the heavily forested area between Charleston and Beaufort.  Although really, they could be anywhere.  And while he was damn anxious to make contact with other humans, he wanted to be very careful about who and how they approached.   

But neither did he want to spend days lost in the woods.

Both of them needed food, and medical attention. 

“Let’s head toward the water. See if by some miracle we can find a boat.  But if there isn’t one I want to hang back a ways, maybe try to follow the creek or whatever from the trees.  If we have to hide for any reason it’s a good idea to have some cover, and the vegetation is pretty thick.”

“Sounds like a plan.”   

They continued to make their way, less frantically than before, but still as fast as their injuries allowed them.  Declan hated that he couldn’t just carry Sadie, but there was no question of that being a possibility. 
Right now he was having enough difficulty keeping himself upright. 

They approached the edge of the trees. The ground was spongy beneath its covering of pine needles, the familiar smell of pluff mud lending its fecund
odor to the air.  Despite abundant sunshine, the breeze chilled without the windbreak, and Sadie shivered, wrapping her arms around the bare flesh exposed by the rip in her shirt.

Seeing the movement out of the corner of his eye, Declan cursed himself for his oversight.  He had on a flannel over his T
-shirt, and while Sadie’s suit boasted a snug-fitting jacket, that silky thing underneath – while undoubtedly attractive at one time – was shredded and had to be doing diddly squat in the manner of keeping her warm.

“Here,” he managed the buttons one-handed, controlling a wince as he shrugged the muted green plaid from his shoulders.  “Put this on.”

Sadie took it, but eyed him in his T-shirt.  “You said you were cold.”

“That was when we were chained up like dogs in that cabin.  We’re moving around now, so the T-shirt’s all I need.”

“Must be nice to be a human furnace.”  She slipped it over her jacket while Declan surveyed the lay of the land.

“The creek we’re on is small,” he noted, checking out the stand of cypress and scrubby palmettos on the opposite bank.  It looked impenetrable, uninhabited. “I don’t see much in the way of docks.”  There’d probably been one nearby at some point, judging from the
set-up at the cabin, but if there had been, it had long since succumbed to the ebb and flow of the tides.

“It looks like it hooks up with a larger waterway over there.”  Sadie nodded toward a point where moss-draped oaks crouched over the water, cord grass undulating against a sky that opened bright and cerulean. 

“We’ll head that way,” he agreed.  “Tide looks like it’s headed out.  If there are any docks, any more boaters lurking around, they’ll want to be putting in before it gets much lower.  This water doesn’t look too deep.  Course, there’s no telling what it’s like around that bend.” 

They trudged, Sadie catching her breath whenever a sharp stick or the odd oyster shell found her injured foot, but she didn’t utter one word of complaint.