Chapter forty

“Do you have a phone on you?” Sam walked shoulder to shoulder with Chief as they came around the side of Chuck and Lisa’s house.

Without a word, Chief handed Sam his cell phone.

“Hoops, it’s Sam. What have you got?”

“Sam-Man, you were right. Al and the boys got Mikey’s boat. They came alongside, and just like you said, one stupid fool drew a gun on them. He was whacked, Al said, all high on something. He didn’t look so good after their little visit, Al said.”

“Was he alone?”

“No. Another two ratty-lookin’ guys were down below working on a joint. Not anyone Al had ever seen before, he said. Look; I dropped the dinghy and the motor off behind the Causeway Diner, near the dumpster. I told the manager you’d be by to get it as soon as you could. Everything cool where you are?”

“So far. I got the Chief with me, and we’re on it.”

“What more can I do for you, Sam-Man?”

“Not sure at this point. Keep your phone handy, though. I left mine on board my boat, so I’m using Chief’s. I’ll call again in case something comes up that you think I need to know about.”

“Did they get Lisa?” Chief’s eyes glassed over once Sam ended the call.

“No. Only Mike’s boat and the Scuz Brothers, who, I guess, work for Tripp Johnson. They were the decoy to buy the others some time, I bet.”

Sam wasn’t sure how much more he should say, but he plunged ahead anyway.

“Seeing how Mike’s boat was used to put us off the scent, I’m pretty sure Mike was in it from the start. Do you think he and Lisa—”

“Don’t go there, Sam.”

“Look, Chief; we need to know all the players, here. Why would Mike get a cut of it if Lisa wasn’t, you know, involved?”

“Who said he’s involved? Maybe he’s just a hostage, like Chuck. Maybe Lisa’s being held now against her will.” Chief sounded almost hopeful.

“Not likely. She was a mule. You said so yourself. No, I think she’s in it up to her eyeballs. I’m just trying to figure out how deep Chuck and Mike were in on it. It could make a difference for all of them.” Sam eased into the Mustang and waited for Chief to do the same.

“Let’s go find out.” Chief was almost chipper.

Sam didn’t like the look in Chief’s eyes, but he decided having someone on his team—even someone half-crazy—was better than no one at all.

“Where’s your car, Chief?”

“Down the street. I parked there in case Lisa had company…. I didn’t want her to see me coming, I guess.”

Sam drove past Chief’s car on the way out of the neighborhood, then stopped and backed up.

“What kind of supplies you got in there?”

“Standard issue.” Chief paused and smiled. “And a little something extra.”

“Bring whatever you got. We may need it.”

Chief returned to the Mustang in seconds with the standard issue Glock and a towel-wrapped pump action patrol rifle, unwrapping the latter briefly to show Sam.

“Impressive. From your own personal collection?”

“Something like that. Do you know what we’re up against?”

Sam popped the trunk. Chief carefully laid his Remington inside and closed the trunk.

“Mike and Chuck are carrying their standard issues,” Sam recounted as he drove south down the beach road and past the aquarium entrance. He turned right into the Fort Fisher Ferry landing’s parking lot, got a ticket, and parked in a line waiting to board the ferry. “One of the hostages was able to make off with Tripp Johnson’s gun at the gallery, but I suspect he’s taken it back. I don’t know about Andy. He wasn’t showing.”

Three cars were in front of Sam and Chief as they waited for the just-docking ferry to unload cars.

Without turning, Sam asked the question that had plagued him all day. “Chief, you said in your office that you were following orders. Whose orders?”

“Commissioner Martin. He said he was just following orders, but one can’t tell with Martin. I didn’t have the spine to stand him down. He said if I questioned him again, I’d be out, just like that. I’ve worked for a lot of years toward a comfortable retirement with full pension, and I wasn’t about to screw that up because someone has it in for you. What did you do to Martin, anyway?”

“Not anything I’m aware of. Did he tell you to do anything other than bug my car or crush the Camaro before the case was closed?”

“No. But either way, I should have stood up to him. Shoulda told him no. You’re a good cop, Sam. I see now you didn’t have anything to do with Lee’s death.”

“Doesn’t matter now. What does matter is we have to get to Johnson’s.”

The khaki-clad ferry attendant signaled for Sam to move forward. Sam slowly rolled the Mustang onto the ferry; blocks were set under his wheels, and he was instructed to turn his engine off.

When Sam and Chief climbed the ladder to the upper deck, they walked to a railing away from the other passengers.

“Who are we looking for, exactly?” Chief leaned over the rail.

“Lee’s wife, Jenny Elliott; Molly Monroe, a…my friend who accidentally got messed up in all of this; Lisa, Chuck, Mike, Andy, and Tripp Johnson.”

“What makes you think they’re in Southport?”

“Two reasons. First, Mike let the Scuz Brothers, who accompanied Andy to the gallery, take his forty-two-foot sailboat Moonglow out for a spin. The Coast Guard picked them up heading south down the ditch, and they were armed and ready. Second, the fishery is the only place I can think of where they’d be holding hostages without anybody stopping by to see what’s going on.”

“Holding or disposing?”

“Probably preparing to dispose.” Sam bit his lip, imagining what Jenny and Molly were going through. “Molly and Jenny surprised Lisa at the gallery. She was getting ready to take flight with two suitcases of cash. I can’t believe she kept that much around.”

“Can’t just walk into a bank with two suitcases, now can you?” Chief was back to his old cantankerous self.

“Suppose not. There were plenty of places she could have hid it in the gallery. In hollow display pedestals, art pieces, wherever. She was getting ready to leave, so she gathered it all up. Did you find anything at her house?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” Chief looked at the wake created by the ferry as it left the dock. “Really, I don’t know what I expected to find. I was just so….” He slammed his fist on the railing.

“Yeah. I would be too if I were duped and used. Sorry. Let’s keep going.” Sam put a hand lightly on Chief’s shoulder. “Tell me what she told you.”

“About what?”

“About anything. How did you learn she was a mule? And how did you find out who her brother was?”

“One afternoon, I walked into the gallery and there he was. She didn’t want to introduce me, but he was ballsy enough to. I watched him hand her an envelope. He said it was for a painting he’d commissioned by one of her artists, but he didn’t look like the cultured type. When I asked her about it later, she couldn’t keep up with his lie, so she said it was for something else, a fancy table she was expecting to be delivered by an artisan who lived in the mountains. Then she started, you know, coming on to me, so I dropped it.”

“So how did you learn she was delivering for Tripp? Seems like something she wouldn’t be too eager to discuss with the chief of police.”

“She wasn’t. I found out on my own. One night, we were supposed to meet at our favorite hideaway in Wilmington. She didn’t show up, so I went looking for her. I drove by her house, and her car wasn’t there. Then I went by the gallery and saw her. I was just about to get out of my car to ask if she was all right, but I stayed put for some reason. Maybe it dawned on me that what was going on between us was wrong. I was thinking I would break it off, but then I saw Andy coming out of the gallery right close behind her with his hand touching her back. You may have noticed I get kinda jealous when I think about her and anybody else. I couldn’t think straight when I saw her hug him affectionately, the way she does…did me. I could feel my palms getting sweaty. I ducked down in my car so they wouldn’t notice me. Then I watched as Andy helped Lisa load several boxes from his car into hers. When he drove off, I followed Lisa. She headed to Wilmington, then out on to Highway 40, heading west to Raleigh.”

“Where did she go?” Sam waited patiently as Chief calmed down enough to continue.

“There’s a rest stop in the middle of the highway where the traffic passes, heading east and west on either side of it. Do you know it?”

Sam nodded.

“She pulled off there. I followed her and parked a safe distance away. I had even got out and snuck around a bush to get a closer look when she waved at this sleazy-looking guy who parked right beside her. He helped her transfer the boxes from her car to his; then they both drove away. I took a chance and followed the guy. His black Cadillac had New York plates. I wrote down the number, then followed him to the interstate and all the way to the ramp heading north on Interstate 95. I followed him for a little ways, then made a U-turn and came back down here.”

“What’d you do with the license plate number?”

“Called it in, of course.”

“And you don’t think he was just an art lover?”

“Not a chance. I checked the sleaze-bucket out with a friend of mine. He’s a bail jumper with a sheet as long as your arm.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Chief walked to the other side of the ferry’s top deck, close enough to a gaggle of tourists to signal that the conversation was over.