31

 

Wes squeezed Jess’s hand one last time then closed the back door of the car. Cole sat behind the wheel. Bubba stood to Wes’s right, staring off into the night above the levee. Wes elbowed him. “Hey, big man, you got Jess for me?”

Bubba nodded. “I got her. Already set up. After the doc sees her, she’ll disappear into thin air. Here’s your pistol. Still loaded. I didn’t mess with it.”

Wes took the weapon, dropped the clip for a quick look, then shoved it back home. The automatic held thirteen in the mag. He never carried it with a round under the firing pin. A baker’s dozen would have to do. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Again?” Bubba said followed by a short laugh.

Wes held the gun, testing the feel. Another day, he’d share the laugh with his friend. That was something Bubba used to tell him in Iraq when he voiced an idea. You keep thinking, Wes. That’s what you do best. “I don’t want Jess to just disappear. I want her dead until this is over. Make it public. Heat related dehydration, something, or nothing. Just get it in the papers. ‘Woman found dead in the trunk of a car.’ No explanation needed. There’s a leak somewhere. I need to know she’s safe. She needs to know too.”

Bubba glanced at him then back over his shoulder at the car where Jess sat. “Agent Carr will have to call the papers, but I don’t think that’s a problem. He wants Meshach. If there’s a leak and it’s dripping from as high as you think, the coroner will need to be involved to keep the appearance of truth in the story. I believe the FBI has the means to make it happen.”

“What are we forgetting? Did we stop the search for Jess?”

“We did. What else?”

Wes shook his head. “Standby the phone and be ready to come a runnin’ if I call.”

“You should let the Feds stake out this car. It’s theirs now.”

“Nope. He threatened my family. You heard what Jess said. My daughter, my grandson, my parents, you don’t get to do that and walk away. I don’t need a suit sitting in his car down the road. I do wish I had some night vision gear, though. One thing. You might ask Agent Carr if he’ll meet me here at seven thirty in the morning. Just in case.”

“Will do. You’re nuts, you know?”

Wes let out a hard breath. “I know. Cole and Jess think so too.”

“Just one more thing before I go. How’d you know Jess was in that car?”

“Look at the mud down the side. Red mud on white paint. Jess had the same color mud on her shoes this morning. She took a walk after we left your house and accidentally stepped into a hole at some roadwork, in the dark, not far from the hotel. I asked her about it just before she left for her run. Meshach must have driven through the same area. I just added two and two.”

Bubba slapped him on the back and turned to get in the car. “You’ve still got it. Love you, bro. Stay low.”

Wes slipped the pistol into its holster and walked toward the levee. The passenger door opened and closed behind him. The car pulled away. Tire noise faded over the next few seconds leaving the crickets and frogs free to sing without interruptions.

He couldn’t see two feet in front of him. The porch light on the house across the highway gave off just enough light to deepen the shadows and make every step a new adventure. At the top, he squatted and sat on his heels, out of the skyline. Against the stars a man would be hard to distinguish, but not with a backdrop like ship lights or the communication tower’s strobes flashing three miles distant.

Three sets of taillights were visible on the highway northward. One of them belonged to his rental headed for New Orleans and a hospital. That girl was hardheaded and insisted the ambulance be turned around in case someone who actually needed professional aid called for help. He loved it. Other than bruised fists, broken nails, sore fingertips from trying to gouge out Meshach’s only eye, and a craving for water, she’d come through unscathed.

He touched his lips. Huh, like taking a nibble of a powdered sugar donut, she’d left a sticky remnant from the adhesive on the duct tape he’d removed from her lips. They would have to do that again. Soon. He tore his thoughts back to his task.

The old trailer house would be a logical place to hide and stakeout Meshach’s car. After all, who would lie in the marsh with the bugs, mosquitoes, snakes, and who knew what else?

Wes would.

The man could arrive by automobile, but Wes suspected he was in the boat, either offshore or hidden out in the marsh somewhere. When Meshach beached the boat nearby, he wanted to be close enough to hear him breathe.

 

~*~

 

The GPS showed Meshach nothing he recognized. The track history on the Lowrance plainly displayed his last route so he knew the location of the fish camp, but how far was it from there to his car? Two miles? Maybe two and a half? Both of his navigation aids showed water close to the levee and the highway just beyond. The location would put him a little over three miles from the camp, a mile or less from the car, and for him, just a stroll away from ole blue eyes.

According to the sonar, six feet of water lay under the keel of the boat where he sat. Now, if that held true for the next half mile to the edge of the levee…Only one way to find out. He cranked up and engaged the outboard.

Ten minutes later, he nosed the boat into the bank and killed the engine. Using his handheld GPS display for light, he assessed his gear. He didn’t need the cop’s pistol and extra clips. Never go into a scrape with an unfamiliar weapon. Stay light. Then, he saw his ten-power, Leica rangefinder. That would be useful. He draped the lanyard around his neck and placed the monocular into his shirt pocket. A man with one eye didn’t have need of binoculars.

After dragging the anchor up the levee twenty feet and shoving the flukes into the soft ground, he continued to the top and stopped, overlooking the highway. Cops travelled highways, but not the beaten path atop the levee where he stood. His car wasn’t far, just around the long curve if the light in the distance belonged to the two-story house across from where he’d parked. He guessed roughly a mile, so no more than a twelve-minute walk. He set out at a quick pace.

The Altima came into view. He stopped a good five hundred yards out, took a knee, and scanned the area with the monocular—car, trailer, brick house across the highway, then back to the car. No obvious tracks in the grass next to the Altima.

The car. The left passenger door window looked like a mirror, reflecting light from the bulb on the house across the highway, but not the driver’s. He’d owned the car four days and had driven it twice. Think. Was it tinted or not? No, it didn’t matter. Either the window was down, or the glass was broken. If broken, why? Vandals?

Oh, my PI friend, you think I’m dumb.

 

~*~

 

Monday morning

One boisterous frog in particular spent the night a few feet from Wes. The thing sounded like it should walk upright and weigh sixty pounds. The Middle East had flies like Alaska had mosquitoes, but nothing compared to the mass of insects that had shown an interest in every inch of his exposed skin.

Bubba said he was nuts. Now, Wes wondered if he referred to going after Meshach alone or spending the night with the bugs.

The eastern horizon grew brighter by the second. Wispy haze drifted over the area. The humidity was thick enough to slice. Patches of green marsh grass and cane breaks were separated by water like a neighborhood by streets and cul-de-sacs. To his left, a dozen snowy egrets stood one-legged in a watery patch of grass. The levee rose to his right. He’d picked a good position on a dry strip jutting from the levee. Not bad for stumbling around in the dark.

A cockroach went about its business under the cover of darkness, like Meshach. He wasn’t coming, not with a cloudless dawn in full glow.

Over the past hour, the traffic had increased. Turbocharged diesels whined and eighteen wheels pounded the pavement making it easy to distinguish semis from cars and pickups.

Wes rose and shook himself, brushing at his hair and clothes to rid both of crawly critters. A shower and a hearty breakfast would be the first order of business when he got back to wherever. Tony and Agent Collins had taken over Shanteel’s place, uninvited, to dig into Meshach’s computer, not to stay and use it for the night. Tony should be in a hotel, but where? Wes missed covering that tidbit of planning last night.

He turned on his cell phone and started for the highway two hundred yards distant. The waist-deep grass held heavy dew. His feet and pants were soaked in the first ten paces.

When the cell booted, he punched Tony’s name. “Well?” was the first thing he heard.

“Nothing but bugs,” Wes said. He topped the levee and paused. It really was a beautiful morning to look across the Mississippi River. The haze had settled into a thicker blanket, covering the waterway and making ships look like they floated on clouds.

“I’m at the Lighthouse Inn, several miles farther south, but I haven’t slept. I’ve been waiting on you to call. Thank God, Jess is safe. You did good, Wes. Real good.”

“Thanks, Tony. Did Cole or Bubba bring the car back to you last night?”

“I’ve got Cole’s rental. You ready for me to come get you?”

“If you would, please. I’ll be standing on the highway, I don’t know, a couple of miles north of those fancy fish camps we were at yesterday. Meshach’s white car is parked on the west side of the highway next to an old trailer house.”

As he walked down the slope, he eyed the trailer. Someone had lived in it not long ago. The meter plugged into the box meant the electricity was still hooked up. As much mold grew on the sides and roof as the weeds in the yard.

“We found some interesting items on Meshach’s computer. An auto-saved file, for one. He, someone, opened a new Word document and typed Mars, Ursa, Nakika, Ace of Spades, and a couple of others I can’t remember, like doodling. He deleted the document, but the auto-save stored it. Anyway, they’re platforms, rigs, production facilities, I don’t know. Oil companies give their projects unique names. I don’t know who owns the first three, but the last one belongs to Cole.”

“He knows, of course.”

“Everybody knows. He opened and accessed AIS too.”

“What’s that?”

“Automatic Identification System: it’s a worldwide, integrated program used to track and identify any vessel enrolled and equipped. It’s the same as a transponder in an airplane. Vessels can ID one another at sea, and the system can be accessed via the Internet and provides real-time information on a vessel’s name, position or speed, any number of things. That’s what Meshach did. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that a team of SEALs has been alerted and put on standby.”

Cole had been right when he’d said Meshach’s intentions could have national security implications. “Have you heard from Jess?” He walked a circle next to the trailer.

“She’s OK. The doctor said she was good to go. She’s at Bubba’s place for now. Cole offered to fly her home, but she refused to leave. Can’t imagine why.” Tony’s voice took on a conspiratorial tone.

Agent Carr arrived driving a small green Kia. He rolled down his window.

Wes walked in his direction. “All right, come on. I’ll be waiting.” He punched off and pocketed the phone.

“Good morning, Trent,” Wes said.

“I don’t see a scalp.” He laced his hands over the steering wheel and leaned forward on his elbows. “Hop in. I’ll give you a ride.”

Wes took a knee at the window. “Thanks, but Tony’s on the way. I have nothing to report, I’m afraid. A long night in the marsh.”

“You did well recognizing the car. You saved that woman’s life. A man who walks around with his eyes open, like you do, would fit into our program.”

“I like my job. Besides, I have a degree in Marine Corps. I think your requirements are more stringent.”

Trent nodded. “Your girl died. It was in the paper this morning. I’ve got an autopsy planned for this afternoon. With that said, we’re trying to figure out a way to trap Lamech and Sullivan and get them into the open. You think of something, let me know. A question on that subject: would you be offended if I talked to Tony about employment?” The agent started his car. “If you have objections, of course, I won’t mention it to him.”

“Please talk to him. He’s a consultant. I’ll be jealous, though. A replacement will be hard to find.”

“Thanks. Oh, we’re going to haul Meshach’s car off this morning. You might give a fingerprint sample today when you get a chance, so we can eliminate you.”

Wes stood. “Right after breakfast.”

Trent gave him a quick salute and drove off.

Wes moseyed back toward the trailer with thoughts of looking over the levee one last time before he left. Tony mentioned Jess had refused to leave. Good girl. He wished she would, but he was glad she hadn’t. Now, he had to deal with what-ifs, if they didn’t catch Meshach. How would he tell his daughter and son-in-law to be on the lookout for a one-eyed killer?

A metallic click jarred him. He’d been around guns all of his life. He knew the source. He prayed it wasn’t the last thing he ever heard.