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Authors: John Ramsey Miller

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BOOK: Too Far Gone
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58

When Veronica Malouf answered her door and saw Alexa, her face crumpled.

“This isn't a good time,” she said, after looking up and down the street.

Alexa heard the volume of the stereo drop and knew Veronica wasn't alone. “I hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

“I have a friend here.”

“That's fine. I don't have time to come in.”

“What do you want?”

“A favor.”

“What kind?” Veronica pulled the door shut behind her.

“I want you to go to the hospital and get me a set of records.”

“I gave you everything I had.”

“On Sibby. But I need the records on another inmate.”

“Who?”

“Leland Ticholet.”

“Who?”

“Swamp Boy.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“But I never go there after five. The offices are closed except for a skeleton crew. How about early in the morning? I might not be able to come back home. The way back into town is being blocked by highway patrolmen.”

“If they won't let you through, call me.”

“You're going to get me fired,” Veronica said weakly.

“That is the least of your worries,” Alexa told her.

         

59

It was dark when Alexa arrived on St. Charles Avenue, parked, and climbed into Manseur's car. A man she had never seen before was in the back seat.

“Alexa, Larry Bond. Larry, Agent Keen,” Manseur said.

“Pleasure,” Bond said. Manseur's ex-partner wasn't at all what Alexa expected. He was blond, muscular, and tall. His face was all sharp angles and sunburnt. “Decell's been in the house since he got here from the bank.”

“Casey arrived twenty minutes ago,” Manseur said.

“Was Grace with her?”

“She was alone, far as I could tell. Might have the little girl with her.”

Alexa opened her cell phone and dialed. “Casey, it's Alexa.”

“You won't believe this, but I was just about to call you,” Casey told her. “I'm conflicted and I'm trusting you to tell me something.”

“Shoot,” Alexa said.

“I'm at Unko's. He admitted there was a ransom demand for Gary, and that he faked the note to keep you and Manseur from screwing things up. The kidnappers are going to be watching, the note said.”

“You saw the ransom demand note?”

“Yes. I threatened to call you, so he and Decell showed it to me. They didn't want to. I want you to promise me you won't interfere in getting Gary back. But I want you involved, Alexa. You're better at this than Unko and Decell. I can't risk Gary getting hurt.”

“It's your call, Casey, not your uncle's. Gary is
your
husband.”

“They treat me like I shouldn't know anything. If it's my call, I'm making it. Unko's going to pay in bearer bonds. I told him he had to tell you and he and Decell both said that if I did, Gary's death would be on my head. The note says that Unko is to handle the actual swap. It could be dangerous, couldn't it? Decell should do it.”

“This is far too dangerous for your uncle to deal with. I doubt even Decell is capable of handling it.”

“Why?”

“Because it's possible that the person who has Gary may have killed Nurse Fugate. If it is who I think it is, he's very dangerous and mentally unstable.”

“Alexa, there's something else.”

“What?”

“I overheard Unko and Decell talking about some item Decell had to make sure he got from the kidnapper, no matter what else happened.”

“Gary could be the item he meant,” Alexa said.

“I don't think it was a reference to Gary. I know it sounds paranoid, but I think they have more than just Gary to recover in this exchange. I didn't hear it all, but I'm sure Unko said something about a diary.”

“That's interesting,” Alexa said, remembering the secret stash in Fugate's closet. If Fugate had kept her diary under the floor, there was no telling what she might have written in it that LePointe wanted it back to prevent anyone knowing its contents.

An ambulance raced past, its siren blaring.

“Where are you?” Casey asked.

“I can't say,” Alexa said, knowing Casey had heard the siren in stereophonic glory.

“You're right outside!”

“Look, I'll do whatever I can, you know that. Try to trust me a little longer.”

“I knew you were good. You already knew there was a ransom demand, didn't you? You're going to follow to the exchange, aren't you?”

“I need to get off the phone, Casey. We'll talk later.”

“The note said Unko was to come alone and that they'd know if anybody else was with him or following him.”

“Casey, do you know where Grace is?”

“Her phone must be off. I've tried to call her several times, but I get her message. Why?”

“I just wanted to be sure you weren't alone,” Alexa lied. “The waiting will be excruciating for you until this is over. Where's Deana?”

“I have someone watching her at home.”

“Just a sec, Casey.” Alexa muted her phone and told Manseur and Bond what Casey had said. “Grace is in the wind,” she whispered. “Fugate may have had a diary. That may be the trigger we discussed.”

“Grace is going to be involved in the drop,” Manseur said.

“If there aren't but a couple of people involved, I suspect she's got a job to do. Since she doesn't know that she's a suspect and was sure she'd learned everything she could from Casey, she's free to help out. What about the GPS tracker?”

“I got a pair of trackers and receivers. How are we going to get them planted?”

“LePointe's security is first-rate,” Bond said.

“I have an idea,” Alexa said.

She unmuted the phone and put it against her ear. “Casey, I need to ask you if you are willing to do something for me. It's important. It may also be risky.”

“Name it, Alexa,” Casey said.

         

60

Thirty minutes later, Casey appeared on the inside of the wrought-iron fence and Alexa handed her two half-dollar-sized disks. “They're magnetized,” she said. “One for the Bentley and the other for Decell's car, so we can cover either or both. You think you can attach them without being seen and get back inside without being detected?”

“God, I've sneaked out of that house a million times without getting caught,” Casey assured her. “They aren't interested in what I'm doing. They're making plans, or going over their plans. The note said the exchange would begin at nine, so I'm sure Unko will be leaving before then.” Casey reached out and took Alexa's hand. Casey's hand was warm and her touch warmed and assured Alexa.

“How will they contact him?” Alexa asked.

“Calling his cell phone. Unko's supposed to come alone.”

“Will Decell be following along?”

“I don't know how they're doing it. I'm sorry. But Decell must be planning to go. Unko wouldn't do it alone if it's dangerous.”

Unless not doing it is more dangerous.
“It doesn't matter,” Alexa assured her. “Whichever car they use, we'll be ready.”

“Okay. Will you call me as soon as it's over?”

“Word of honor,” Alexa said.

Casey squeezed Alexa's hand, released it, then turned and was gone.

         

61

Casey West threaded her way between the bushes surrounding the courtyard to reach the cars parked there. She moved cautiously, keenly aware of the guard stationed at the gatehouse and of the closed-circuit cameras that covered the grounds. There was a second guard walking the property and she'd have to watch out for him.

Kneeling, she planted the first of the devices under Ken Decell's sedan to the frame, and after making sure it adhered to the steel, she scatted back into the foliage, to wait for the camera to take in the cars and sweep past to scan the portico.

As soon as the camera made its arc, she moved, stopping beside her Rover. Looking over the hood to check the camera's position, she was ready to move to her uncle's Bentley, when sudden light drew her eyes to the second guard, coming directly up the driveway toward her, a lit flashlight in his hand. She crouched down and froze. When the guard drew even with the back bumper of the Bentley, he stopped, and she flattened herself to the ground hastily. She heard a lighter click open and the odor of cigarette smoke reached her. The guard remained against the Bentley smoking, showing no sign of going anywhere any time soon.

As she squatted there she had an idea. Moving slowly to avoid making noise, she pocketed the bug and backed into the bushes. Swiftly she made her way back around the house, avoiding the other cameras, and the sensors that would turn on floodlights as she went. She made it to the door she had come out through, and slipped into the utility room, and from there, through the kitchen.

As she sneaked up the hallway, she noticed that her uncle and Ken Decell were still in the den, sitting together on a couch, Decell busily making diagrams and both men talking in hushed voices—exactly as they had been when she'd gone out to get the bugs. She moved farther up the hall and slipped into Unko's office, where she went to a cabinet and opened the door to expose her uncle's safe. He hadn't changed the combination since she was a teenager and had found the combination while snooping in his office.

Once the heavy door swung open, she smiled as she saw the briefcase. She had guessed correctly that her uncle would have put the bonds there for safekeeping until it was time to take them on his errand.

“What are you doing?” a voice asked.

Casey quickly straightened up, her heart pounding. Her aunt stood in the doorway.

“Are you looking for candy?” Sarah asked.

“Yes,” Casey lied.

“It will make you fat,” Sarah said.

“Dancers have to watch their weight,” Casey replied. “You gain one ounce and you're not a ballerina any longer.”

“Have you seen me dance?” her aunt asked.

“I love to see you dance,” Casey said.

“Watch this,” her aunt said, waving her arms wildly and moving her feet in what could only be described as an amazingly poor imitation of a tap routine.

Casey heard footsteps coming up the marble hall, and turned and slipped out the door she had come in through, just as her uncle's voice boomed behind her. She didn't dare close it for fear he'd hear the sound.

“Sarah, what in the world are you doing in my office?”

Casey listened, poised to retreat if she had to.

“Out of bounds,” he finished.

“Candy makes you fat,” she said. “We weren't looking for candy.”

“We?” William asked. “Who's we, Sarah?”

“The lady that comes here wasn't looking for candy either.”

“What lady?”

“You know perfectly well. That lady from the audience,” Sarah said. “You're being silly, aren't you? You know her as well as I do. Rebecca.”

“Rebecca's dead,” LePointe said.

“Was somebody really in here?” Decell's voice asked.

“I am not telling you anything, Mister Redhead Man. Or you either, white-haired man!”

“It's all right, darling. You don't have to tell us anything. Where's Angela? Angela!”

Casey heard the night maid's voice. “Sorry, Dr. LePointe. I'm here. Miz LePointe, you best come on with me. She left out of the room while I had my back turned. I'll take her back up to her room.”

“No harm done,” LePointe said.

Casey fled back to the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee, and exhaled for the first time since she left the office. “Mission accomplished,” she whispered. Then she smiled.

         

62

From her vantage point across St. Charles Avenue, Alexa could see the LePointe mansion illuminated by floodlights, the front gate, and, parked beyond the intersection, Manseur's Crown Victoria. She looked down at her passenger's seat, at the scuffed-up NOPD laptop, which was set to the frequency of the trackers. She had turned the brightness down so the glow wouldn't be apparent to the guard in the gatehouse. Alexa felt the familiar sense of excitement and anticipation growing inside her that she always got when the payoff was in sight—like a hunter watching a deer moving in the deep woods, making its way slowly to an exposed space in the trees.

Manseur's computer had the same views of both tracker frequencies, and he and Larry Bond would be able to follow whichever vehicle Decell used. They had lucked out by having Casey plant the trackers, and Alexa just hoped their luck would hold awhile longer. In the event that both vehicles left, Alexa would follow LePointe. Decell would certainly follow LePointe somehow, and would be pissed that the cops were covering the transaction, because there was obviously something going on that his employer wanted to keep quiet. If the police timed their appearance, they'd have unfettered access to a diary, hopefully detailing LePointe's crime—if such a diary indeed existed.

Alexa was startled by a sudden movement and turned to see Casey pulling open the passenger door.

“What's going on?” Alexa asked.

“I sneaked out. I had to talk to you.”

“You could have phoned me. What if they miss you?”

“Relax, they won't even know I'm gone. I didn't get to put one of those bugs on the Bentley. A guard came. I had to go back inside.”

“Did you get one on Decell's car?”

“I sure did,” Casey said, smiling.

“One is a lot better than none. Good work.”

“The other one is inside, in a much better place.”

Inside is better? Might the house move?
Alexa's phone rang and she saw it was a call from Manseur's cell. “Yeah?”

“Is that Casey in your car?”

“It is. She only rigged Decell's car.”

“Well, then it's Decell who's on the move. Let's give him thirty seconds and trail him.”

Alexa looked at the screen and saw a dot moving on the line. “You have to get out, Casey. I have to go. Decell's car is moving. Probably LePointe's will be leaving soon too.”

“What about the other bug? Is it moving?”

Alexa looked at her screen again. She saw that the other dot, denoting the second bug, was stationary. “It's not,” she said.

“Just watch it,” Casey said.

“Decell's on his way out,” Alexa said, pointing at the headlights approaching the front gate.

“He's not taking the bonds. Not unless the second signal shows movement,” Casey said.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I planted the other bug in the briefcase containing the ransom bonds,” Casey told her. “Unko's going to make the exchange personally. Decell will probably circle around to be there to cover him. That isn't Unko. I'm certain.”

Alexa told Manseur what Casey had said.

“Damn it,” Manseur growled. “I'm tailing Decell. I'll tell Bond to break off and follow the Bentley.”

“No, I'm on LePointe,” Alexa said, watching the gate open and the Bentley pull out onto St. Charles Avenue. “Casey, they must have put the bonds in another valise.”

“No, they don't have any reason to do that.”

“The other bug is in the valise
with
the bonds,” Alexa said to Manseur.

“Both cars are leaving,” Manseur said.

“Unko is not in the Bentley,” Casey insisted again. “It's got to be that extra guard Decell had come to the house.”

“I think you're wrong,” Alexa said. “My gut says the bonds are in the Bentley.”

“I trust you, why can't you trust me?” Casey demanded, placing her hand on Alexa's wrist. “I know Unko. I think they're making sure they aren't being watched. They're very cunning.”

Alexa lifted the phone and told Manseur, “Tell Larry to stick on the Bentley. I'm going to stay here to see if there's something else going on. If the valise doesn't move in ten minutes, I'll catch up.”

“Hell, knowing Decell, he might not even have the bonds. He could be planning not to give them anything and take what they have by force. Decell probably thinks he's got the upper hand on a bunch of amateurs.”

Alexa looked at her watch and back at the immobile flashing dot positioned inside the mansion. She prayed Casey was right and the caravan was a ruse.

The tracker's range was less than ten miles, and as she watched the tracker in Decell's car moving away, Alexa felt like a child being abandoned in a foreign place. Once the bug was out of range, she'd have to rely on Manseur to give her the location and on her car's GPS to get her to the meeting place. That would be both an inefficient way to navigate and she would certainly arrive late.

“It'll move soon,” Casey repeated. “You'll see.”

“Go back inside,” Alexa told her.

“No way. Gary's my husband. I'm going with you. I'm going to be there when you find him.”

“Absolutely not,” Alexa said firmly. “This is dangerous, Casey. They've already killed Fugate.”

“But I thought Sibby Danielson killed her. Is she in on this?”

“I think someone intended it look that way. I think whoever did it either killed Sibby or maybe has her stashed somewhere.”

Casey looked at the computer screen, then crossed her arms stubbornly. “I'm not getting out, and unless you go now you'll never get to the ransom drop.”

Alexa glanced at the flashing dot, which was moving toward the rear of the house. “What's out back?”

“The garage and staff parking, among other things. Unko's going to take one of the other cars. Aren't you glad I put the tracer thing in the briefcase?”

“What vehicles are there?” Alexa asked.

“There's a Caprice wagon, a Mercedes 500 sedan that was Sarah's, the servants' cars, and the guards'. If it's Unko, he'll take the Mercedes.”

“Out!” Alexa ordered. “I can't worry about your safety and do my job!”

“I can handle myself. I'm a black belt,” Casey said, pointing at the screen. “You better get going. Alexa; you can't drive and follow this little dot, and I don't think you know your way around well enough to divide your attention between the road and the screen. Let me stay. I can read you the streets he's on and you can just drive. See, he's already in a car, moving down the service alley.”

Alexa knew Casey wasn't going to get out, she couldn't force her to do so, time was running out, and she could certainly use Casey's help. She slammed the Bucar in gear and pressed the accelerator down, pulling onto St. Charles. “Fine. Then put on your seat belt. And you will do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it.”

“Of course,” Casey said. “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

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