Twenty-eight

Mitch stood in the shadow of the trees that marked the back of the Landry farm and jammed his hands in his pockets, tension clogged in his chest solid as a tightly clenched fist. Behind him members of the Plainsville police department gathered, awaiting instructions.

“I’m thinking the best thing to do would be to approach the house from the back of the barn,” Chief Muldare was saying. “That way, we could get all of our men right up there and station them around the house.”

“That could be risky,” Mitch replied, never taking his eyes off the lights in the farmhouse. “He’s armed, and they’re not.”

“You’re sure there are two women in there with him?” the chief asked.

“I’d put money on it. There was a lot of static on the call, and I was in a charter plane in the midst of some turbulence, but I’m pretty sure it was Regan’s assistant on the line. It was definitely Regan’s cell phone: the number came up on the screen. I think we should proceed on the assumption that Bliss and Regan are in there.”

“I sent a patrol car as soon as you called me the first time.” Muldare turned and looked around at the officers gathered in the clearing. “Art, you said you checked on the house earlier and only the assistant was there?”

“Yes, sir.” The young officer who stepped forward looked to Mitch as if he was barely out of high school. “She seemed normal enough, didn’t seem like she was in any distress. She said Ms. Landry wasn’t there yet and she was just getting ready to leave.”

“And you didn’t check the house?” Mitch’s eyebrows raised almost to his hairline.

“There didn’t seem any cause to. The lady said she was just going to set the alarms and—”

“I heard you the first time. But your department received a call from a clerk in a convenience store less than ten minutes from here, reporting that a man matching Capshaw’s description had been in the store late this afternoon. It wouldn’t have taken hours for Capshaw to find this place. Everyone in Plainsville knows where the Landry farm is. Hell, you can stop just about anyone on the street and they’ll be more than happy to tell you where Josh Landry used to live.”

“All I can tell you is the lady said no one was there and that she was setting the alarm and getting ready to leave.” The young cop’s jaw set defensively.

“All right, Art.” The chief dismissed him. When he was out of hearing range, Muldare turned to Mitch and said, “He’s young. You don’t need to come down on him so hard.”

“All well and good, Chief, but it isn’t his girl in there.”

“It shouldn’t make any difference whose girl it is.”

Because Muldare was right, and Mitch knew he was right, he turned and paced almost to the end of the tree line. From there, he could see that lights were on in the kitchen and in the study. He’d check the kitchen, but he’d bet money that they’d be in the study.

That would be his destination.

“Let’s do this.” Mitch walked back to the chief. “Your men take the barn, and stay there until you hear from me. The more people milling around the farmhouse, the more likely Capshaw is to notice. I know the property, I know how to get across the field with the least possibility of being seen.”

“You know how to get into the house?”

“I’ll get in.”

“Are you sure you don’t want backup?”

“Only as close as the barn, and you’re going to have to go one by one across the field. There’s a full moon tonight. I’m pretty sure he’s in that middle room where you see the light. If he looks out that window and sees you or any of your men, those two women will be dead. If they aren’t already. Give me the number for your cell. I’ll program it in.”

Mitch repeated the numbers back to the chief as he punched them into his phone for quick dial.

He slipped from the shelter of the trees, running the length of the tree line before cutting across the field toward the pond. There were tennis courts, unused for months, surrounded by a high fence, and he used this as a shield as he moved closer. Staying close to the shadows, he crept along the grape arbor to the back of the house. He took four steps and stumbled over something large and soft on the ground. Mitch didn’t need daylight to know what he’d tripped over.

Oh, shit, he whispered as he knelt to find a pulse. The front of the man’s shirt was sticky and cold. He took the small flashlight from his back pocket and shined it on the man’s face. It wasn’t Erwin Capshaw.

The man—whoever he was—was alive, but just barely.

It was clear they were going to need an ambulance. It was obvious to Mitch that the stranger had been down for some time, and there was no way of knowing just how much longer the badly injured man could hold on. Mitch called Chief Muldare to tell him what he’d found and to request medical help.

This was a complication Mitch hadn’t anticipated. Somehow, he was going to have to get to Regan before the ambulance arrived.

“What was that?” Capshaw’s head shot up.

“What was what?” Regan said calmly.

“That noise.” He got up and went to the window and peered into the darkness.

“Could have been a raccoon.” She shrugged. “Or a skunk. We get all sorts of wildlife out here. Sometimes in late afternoon, the deer come right up to the backyard.”

He scanned the night, his hands over his eyes.

“Who knows you were coming here?” He turned from the window. “Your boyfriend know you’re here?”

“I haven’t spoken to him in a couple of days. My cell phone conked out while I was in Chicago.”

“Where is it now? The phone?”

“I left it in the hotel room on the desk.” She pointed to the bag he’d already overturned. “If I had it with me, it would be in there. And you know it isn’t because you already checked.”

“Funny you didn’t tell the boyfriend you were coming here.” His eyes narrowed. “You looked pretty chummy down there in Corolla.”

“How would you know—”

He snorted. “That’s one fine place to stay, that Windham Inn, isn’t it? Great food—hey, especially after what they used to give us in prison. And lots of nice people. I enjoyed my stay there. Hated to leave.”

“You were at the Windham?” Her hands fell still on the desktop.

“Three rooms down from you on the left.” Clearly pleased to have rattled her, and apparently convinced there was nothing more threatening outside than a nocturnal animal, he sat back down.

“How did you know…”

“That you were there?” He grinned. “I just happened to see you one day when I was there. I recognized you from the television.”

Or you had Lester Ray’s cell phone and listened to my message telling him where I was staying.

She opened her bottle of water to give her hands something to do besides shake, and took a few sips.

“Say, did you go on any of those tours they offer there? They take you right up through the wildlife refuge in one of those big SUVs, see the wild horses there on the beach. Dynamite.”

“I must have missed that.” She put the cap back on the bottle and gave it a good twist. It was all she could do to keep from striking out at him, if for no other reason than for spying on her and Mitch and making her feel like an idiot for not knowing that the killer was three rooms away.

“Well, here’s something I didn’t miss.” He lowered his voice and leaned across the desktop into her face. “I didn’t miss that that boyfriend of yours is law. Fed, right?”

They stared at each other, then she nodded.

“I thought so. He’s got FBI written all over him.” He eased back into his seat. “So it’s making me wonder if you’ve been playing me all this time. You know, waiting for him to ride to the rescue.”

“I haven’t spoken with him in two days. That’s the God’s honest truth,” she told him. “I suspect they might have sent him someplace on another job. After Lester Ray’s body was found, they probably didn’t need him down there in North Carolina. I’ve been in Georgia and Chicago since I left Corolla, and decided at the last minute to come here. If he’s looking for me anywhere, I’d expect him to look in my house, in Maryland. It would be the logical place for me to go.”

“Why’d you go to Georgia?”

“I wanted to find out about one of Lester Ray’s foster mothers.” She rolled the chair back slightly and tried hard to filter through the sounds outside the window. Now there was nothing to be heard except the faint rustle of a summer breeze through the lilacs. Maybe there’d been nothing there after all.

Just wishful thinking on my part, she told herself.

She was going to have to find that other gun.

“Lester Ray’s foster mother? Huh.” He grunted. “Let me tell you something about my mother.”

“I think my tape is running low.” She snapped off the recorder. “Give me a minute to get another one. I don’t want to miss a word you’re saying.”

“Where are you going?” His hand caressed the gun, which lay across his lap.

“Just to the file cabinets right there. I think I have some new tapes in there.”

Regan went to the first of the cabinets and pulled the drawer open. If her father had hidden a gun in here, it would most likely be in one of the top drawers. He was a tall man, and wouldn’t have wanted to bend over and start shuffling through the lower drawers to find something he needed in a hurry.

She paused. Bliss had told her she’d gone through the first three filing cabinets. If there’d have been a gun in one of them, she’d have mentioned it, wouldn’t she?

Regan went straight to the fourth cabinet.

“I wish I could remember where I put those damned things.” From the corner of her eye, she saw movement near the barn. Lots of movement, and though the shapes were indistinct, she was pretty sure they were human. She could have wept with joy.

“Don’t you just hate it when you can’t find something?” she said, determined to keep him focused on her.

“Yeah.”

“I just know I put that bag in one of these drawers.”

He walked to the window, looking out at the night, and she held her breath.

She opened the fifth drawer.

Nothing.

On to drawer number six.

She was just about out of time.

 

Mitch worked as quickly and as quietly as he could on the window screen on the side of the house nearest the front door. The chief had agreed to meet the ambulance attendants on the road behind the woods at the back of the farm. From there, they would make their way across the field to the back of the farmhouse with a gurney for the injured man. There was danger involved no matter what they did, but no one had argued for bringing an ambulance up the main drive. Mitch would do his best to get inside the house as quickly as possible, but he wasn’t willing to risk the lives of the two women to save the unknown man.

He’d slid around the side of the house and, standing flush to the wall, had listened at the study window. He’d heard Capshaw ask a question and could have shouted with relief when he heard Regan answer. He couldn’t look through the window without being seen, but hearing her voice had been enough. There was still time.

He knew the layout of the house, and knew the best way in would be through a first floor window as far from the study as possible. Once inside, he’d have to find a way to make Capshaw come to him.

 

“Stay where you are,” Capshaw snapped as he flew to the wall switch to turn off the overhead light.

“What?” Regan half turned toward him just as the room went black, her hand inside the cabinet drawer.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “Why did you turn off the light?”

“Someone’s out there. Outside, someone’s there. Cops, probably. I knew that boyfriend of yours would be along, he’s out there, he’s out there now. You, I want you here, now. Hurry.”

His voice rose to a high pitch, his words shooting from his mouth in rapid fire.

Bliss bolted from the sofa and, panicking, fled for the door. He reached her in three steps and pulled her to him, positioning her body in front of his.

“Shut up!” he screamed in the ear of the sobbing woman. “Shut up, or I’ll shoot you, hear? SHUT UP! I can’t think.”

His back was to the wall near the window, the gun pointed in Regan’s general direction.

“You stay where you are.” He clutched Bliss closer. “I don’t need you. I have all the insurance I need right here.”

“What are you doing, Erwin?” Regan tried to distract him.

“I saw them outside, don’t think I didn’t see them. You saw them, you know you did. He’s there, the boyfriend, he’s out there.”

“I didn’t see anyone,” she said quietly. “Erwin, I don’t think anyone is there.”

“Liar.” He fired a shot toward the cabinets but in the dark it went wide to the right.

She saw him move closer to the window, Bliss thrust before him like a human shield.

“Let her go, Erwin,” Regan said, drawing her gun from the front of her waistband where she’d tucked it. She raised it slowly, wondering what kind of shot she was going to get from here, in the dark. She willed her hands steady. On the range, she’d been flawless, hitting her target every time. But it had been seven weeks since she’d gotten out to practice, and she’d never aimed at a human before.

And there was the matter of Bliss, so close to him.

“Please let her go,” Regan pleaded.

He snickered dismissively and moved closer to the window. “Who’s gonna make me?”

“I probably could.” Mitch stepped behind him, his gun to Capshaw’s head.

“I have the girl here.” Capshaw stood stock still. “You back off and drop the gun, or I swear I will blow her brains out right now. You might shoot me, but three of us will still be dead. Me, her, and that baby.”

“Do it, Mitch,” Regan said from the opposite side of the darkened room. “Drop your gun and step away from him. He’ll hurt Bliss. Just do what he says.”

Mitch hesitated. The last thing any law enforcement officer wanted was to hand over his weapon to someone he knew wouldn’t hesitate to use it. At the end of the room, he could just about make out Regan’s silhouette.

“Please,” she said again. “Please just do it.”

With great reluctance, Mitch placed his gun on the desktop and backed away with his hands held in front of him. Capshaw moved closer still to the window, his back to the wall. From where Regan stood, a faint spot of moonlight fell on the left side of his head, inches above his ear.

The .38 Smith & Wesson had never been her favorite—she was much more comfortable with a slim-line Glock—but this time the weapon had chosen her.

Regan raised the gun with both hands and aimed for the tiny spot of light.

Don’t move a hair, Bliss, she prayed. Do not move…

“This is what we’re going to do,” Capshaw was telling Mitch. “You’re going to come to the window here and tell whoever it is out there that—”

The blast filled the room and for one long moment, time seemed to stop.

A dark spray of bone and blood and tissue spattered the short distance to the wall and covered the window.

Bliss covered her face with her hands and screamed. She fell to the floor, Capshaw falling with her and pinning her against the wall.

“I’ve got her,” Mitch called to Regan as he hurried to extract Bliss from the tangle on the floor. “Hit the lights.”

She snapped on the nearest lamp and nearly fell over herself to get to him.

“Oh, my God, Bliss…” Regan sobbed and dropped to her knees. With shaking fingers she brushed bits of tissue from her assistant’s face.

“I think she just passed out when you fired that shot. Here, let me…” He lifted the pregnant woman in both arms and laid her gently on the sofa as Muldare’s officers broke down the door and entered the house with their guns drawn.

Regan turned on the light and stepped aside as they filed into the room.

“Damn, but you are good with a thirty-eight.” Mitch gave Regan’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m lucky that I finally found the right drawer. I was starting to think maybe my dad had gotten rid of it.”

“We’re going to need the ME,” one of Muldare’s men said to no one in particular.

“Is the ambulance still here?” Mitch asked the chief who’d followed his officers into the house.

“It’s on its way to the hospital with the guy you found in the yard,” the chief said.

“It might be Robert McKinley, Bliss’s husband,” Regan told him. “Bliss said that Capshaw had shot him, but she believed he was dead.”

“He’s damned close.”

“This is his wife.” Regan pointed to Bliss. “We need to get her to the hospital, too.”

Muldare signaled for one of his officers to call for another ambulance. “You all right, Miss Landry?”

“I’m fine. I’m just worried about my assistant. She’s pregnant and she’s had a really scary time of it.” Regan knelt next to the sofa where Bliss lay, her eyes just beginning to open.

“Agent Peyton, we’re going to want your gun.” The chief touched his arm.

“Not his, Chief Muldare.” Regan stood and handed over the .38. “Mine…”