Authors: Phyllis Smallman
CHAPTER 32
My heart revved into overdrive, adrenaline making me light-headed. Frozen there in indecision, I was afraid if I broke cover and ran up the drive for the house he’d see me, but I was scared that if I stayed where I was, he might come up the driveway, see the trash can and know I was there. Either way I wasn’t safe—so did I run for the house or push through jungle to the neighbors? There was no going back if I made the wrong choice.
I wanted my phone but the house would be the first place Cal looked for me. And even if I dialed
911
, how long would it be before help came? But the gun was in the nightstand. That was more important than the phone.
And what if he wasn’t alone?
The undergrowth was thick. Branches gouged my leather skirt and snagged my top as I burrowed deeper and deeper into their midst, pushing my way through the underbrush and hoping the noise wouldn’t reach the road.
I felt blood trickling down my arm. It didn’t matter. I stopped to listen to the night that had suddenly gone still. Then I began again, telling myself to go silently, slowly picking my way through the forest of vegetation so I didn’t give away my position, easing through the jungle in case there was another car parked in the drive next door. I didn’t want to run smack into a second watcher, wanted to see them before they saw me.
I came out in the sea grapes lining my neighbor’s driveway. No lights shone from the house. The owners hadn’t arrived yet for the season and the tradesmen had gone home. The lane was empty. I was alone.
I listened and waited as the night came alive once more. Small insects clicked and tree toads chirped, but there were no human sounds, no sound of traffic or car doors slamming, no sounds of Cal getting out of the truck, of his cowboy boots crunching up the drive.
But why would he do that? He had me cornered. Who or what was he waiting for? Ryan Vachess was the only answer.
I made myself smaller while my terrified mind churned over the possibilities of what the Vachess brothers wanted with me. Maybe Cal hadn’t believed my story about the dead baby and thought I had Angel. If he meant to steal a baby he wasn’t planning on leaving witnesses. And even worse than dying was the thought of what Ryan Vachess would do to me before he killed me.
Deep in my belly a keening hum of fear rose to my lips. I covered my mouth to silence it while my fevered brain ran up and down the corridors of possible escape . . . of help. There was no help for me.
Waiting was harder than running. Did I go towards the beach or to the road? I slipped off my shoes and bent over at the waist to form a smaller shadow, creeping slowly down the edge of the blackness from the scrub. I needed to see what was happening at the road.
There was only one vehicle parked across the driveway. I hunkered down and watched as Cal took calls and made calls. It seemed to be business as usual, until the final call. The light from his cell went out and the engine came on. I could hear gravel spinning out from his tires as he sped away.
Would he be back? I stayed crouched down in the shadows until some small thing ran over my foot. I was gone; sprinting faster than my heart was beating, flying towards the beach. Kicking up sand behind me, I dove down over the edge of a sand dune on my stomach. Somewhere along the way I’d lost both of my flip-flops. Getting to my knees, I crawled to the top of the bank and searched the darkness. My well-lit house stood out like a beacon.
I lifted my head further to see if my footprints showed, but it was too dark to distinguish anything in the sand. Unless someone who was hunting me had a flashlight, I was safe where I was. I crouched down again. But did I want to stay here? I had to decide.
I had two other choices—run up the beach to find a house that was occupied or risk driving away from the beach. Taking the truck meant I had to go back inside the house to get my keys.
If Cal was coming back there might not be much time. I had to make up my mind.
I lifted my head and had one more look about and then I bolted for the house. Inside in seconds, I grabbed my purse and keys and ran into the bedroom to get Clay’s gun.
I didn’t stop to lock the doors before running for the truck. Accelerating backwards, I hit the trash can, tossing it into thebrush, and rocketed out onto the road without slowing. Driving in the dark without lights, barely able to see the road, I hoped if I met Cal coming back to the house he wouldn’t recognize my red pickup until I flashed by.
When I reached the south bridge I turned on my lights and headed off island. I called Brian.
CHAPTER 33
In the morning I awoke to a new terrifying reality. How many days ago had I only been worried about saving the Sunset? Now it was my own survival that was on the top of my worry list.
I thought I’d gotten rid of Cal Vachess when I told him Angel was dead but it hadn’t stopped him from coming after me. If he wasn’t hunting for the baby, what was he after? He’d sat at the end of the drive for two nights in a row. Why?
“Do you want to go to the police?” Brian asked.
“Oh yeah, that always works well, doesn’t it? They only arrest people after the fact, not for what they might do.”
“Then call Clay and tell him to come home.”
If I called Clay and asked him to come home, it would look like a ploy to get him away from Laura. I didn’t want him on those terms. Clay had to come back to me because he wanted to.
“Clay already thinks I’m crazy; let’s not make it worse.”
But Brian was only worried about the immediate problem of Cal Vachess.
My leather skirt and leopard top were ruined so Brian drove me back out to the beach house for clothes. We coasted by my rent-free house. It no longer seemed like the deal of a lifetime. Brian pulled into the next driveway, where I’d hidden in the underbrush. It was a melee of activity with people coming and going, carrying boards, tools and buckets in their hands.
Brian turned around and drifted back to the entrance to the laneway. “What do you think?”
“No car, and with all these people next door, I think it’s safe.”
“Okay.” He pulled slowly in and crept towards the beach. “We’llpull up to the house and have a good look before we decide if we go in.”
“What if they left someone inside?” My voice cracked.
“I’ll check it out. You wait in the car until I tell you to come in. Okay?”
“Sure.”
When he got out of the car, I locked the door and slipped behind the wheel. My right hand was on the revolver in my purse.
Even when he stood at the door to the kitchen and waved to me, it took a few minutes for me to unlock the car door and join him in the house.
Inside, I went to the bedroom and quickly started packing a bag. The first thing that went into my suitcase was the whole box of ammunition. Then I added clothes.
“I had a visitor,” I said as soon as Aunt Kay opened her back door to me and before she could tell me I was late. “After work, about midnight, when I was out at the beach house alone.”
“Who?”
“Cal Vachess.”
Her eyes opened wider. She went around me to the door and latched the chain and then she asked, “What did he want?”
“I don’t know.” I pulled a chair out from the table and dumped my purse onto it. “I want to know how he found me. My address isn’t listed anywhere. Most of my staff don’t know where I live. It’s safer that way. He probably followed me home Monday night. But why? Why is he watching me?”
“I can’t begin to guess.” She opened the fridge and sat a sweating jug of ice tea on the table.
“After last night I thought I’d convinced him to forget about me.” I ran my hands through my hair and paced. “I told him Angel was dead.”
A glass shattered on the floor.
“Oh, sorry, not really. Cal came into the Sunset last night and I lied about Angel being dead, hoping he’d back off.”
She looked uncertain, like she was trying to judge if I was telling her the truth.
I raised my right hand and said, “I know nothing about Angel that you don’t know.”
She nodded, believing me now. “Okay.”
She bent over and got out a small brush and a tray hanging beneath the sink. I took them from her trembling hands and swept up the shattered glass while she sank down onto a chair.
“How do we stop this . . . this stalking you?”
“I don’t know. I thought I ended it last night in the Sunset but it looks like he’s still searching for Angel.”
“What have I started? Do you want me to phone Cal Vachess and say we aren’t interested in Holly or her baby anymore?”
“Now that would be subtle, wouldn’t it? I already told him that Holly’s baby is dead. If he doesn’t believe that, he won’t believe anything else we say.”
“It might keep him away from you.” She braced herself on the table and leaned forward. “Unless it isn’t the baby he’s interested in.” Her face got real worried. “Maybe it isn’t about Angel.” Her face was constricted with fear. “Oh, Sherri, you don’t think he has a crush on you, do you?”
“If a crush is something sexual, I can pretty much guarantee that he doesn’t have physical designs on me.”
Her body softened. “Then it has something to do with Holly, but what?”
Did I really want to tell her what I’d come up with? One way or another, if it was true she had to know. “Maybe the Vachess brothers already have the baby.”
She gave a little gasp of shock and covered her mouth with her hand. I poured a glass of tea and pushed it towards her.
She took a sip and then said, “Why would they be following you if that was true?”
“Maybe they don’t want us stirring up trouble.”
Aunt Kay said, “What a mess. It seemed so simple.” With her elbow on the table, she rubbed her forehead. “It doesn’t make any sense. I can almost believe he was interested in the baby because it might be Ryan’s, and maybe Cal even thought that the baby would be born with his condition. It would be understandable that he might feel close to the child under those circumstances, but if he believes the baby is dead, or if he already has the baby, why is he still hanging around your house? And why would he draw attention to himself by coming into the Sunset if he has Angel?”
I had no answer to her questions.
And then a look of total shock came over her face. “What if he didn’t believe Angel was dead and thinks you have her?”
I blew out a deep breath and said, “We’re only guessing. It could be any one of these or none. What do you want to do now?”
“We don’t need to go near the Vachess brothers, but I still want to look for Angel.” Her eyes were fixed on my face. “Are you okay with that?”
I’d already stepped in the hornet’s nest and dropping the hunt for Angel wouldn’t change that. The bottom line was I needed the money, but there was another reason I wasn’t quitting. “I want to find Angel. No one but us cares about her and there’s no goddamn way I’m letting perverts like the Vachess brothers have her.”
“Good.” She gave a determined nod. “But we have to hurry.”
“Yes, we need to find her before Cal does.”
“I wasn’t actually thinking of that. I go into the hospital Sunday.”
“Are you sure you want to go on asking about the baby if you’reabout to have this surgery?”
She smiled. “The phrase
now or never
has never been more apt.”
“Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“And worrying? No thank you. I want to find Angel. ”
“Okay, but there is one thing more bothering me.”
She had started to push herself up from the table. She stopped and waited.
“What if the baby is already with the Vachess brothers, what do we do then?”
She took a deep breath and pushed herself upright. “I guess we’ll answer that question when we come to it.”
She went to the counter and pulled a wicker basket towards her, took out a checkbook and started writing. She came back to the table and laid the check down in front of me.
It was dated that day and was in the full amount. “You deserve it,” she said.
I pulled out the original check she’d written and handed it over to her. While she ripped it up, I tucked the new check away, glad to have it but knowing that the search had gone far past my need to pay the mortgage. I was going on even if Aunt Kay decided to stop.
And if I couldn’t find Angel I had another plan. If all else failed I intended to blackmail and bully Dan into taking over the search for his baby. There was no way I was letting him walk away from thisno way was I leaving Angel out there alone.
CHAPTER 34
Aunt Kay’s phone rang. She raised an eyebrow at me.
“Might be your doctor.” But still I braced myself for more evil from the Vachess brothers.
She nodded and went to the phone. After saying hello, she gave me the thumbs up and said, “Yes, Marnie.” She listened some more. “Yes of course. Sherri is with me now.” A huge smile spread across Aunt Kay’s face. “We’ll come right over, if that’s convenient, and then we can go up to Sarasota and get Holly’s things.”
She ended the call and said, “The police are all finished in Holly’s apartment. It seems the owner wants the unit back and Marnie Mitchell wants me to go up to Sarasota with her to collect Holly’s belongings. Marnie doesn’t have a car.”
“Were you the only person Mrs. Mitchell could think to call?”
“It appears so.” Aunt Kay tilted her head a little and said, “I wonder how we can go through Holly’s possessions without upsetting her?”
It didn’t take her long to think of something. “After we check out the apartment and load Holly’s stuff in the truck, I’ll offer to buy Marnie lunch. You say you have a few errands to run. While we’re having lunch, you drive somewhere out of sight and go through everything to see what you can find. I’m sure there has to be something in Holly’s belongings that will tell us where Angel is.”
“You aren’t the nice lady I thought you were.”
“Sorry about that.” She picked up a white visor and her wraparound sunglasses. She was ready to go.
Marnie Mitchell was waiting outside for us. When we stopped in front of her she came to the truck and opened the crew door before I could get out. Once inside the truck she said, “Thank you.”
Aunt Kay turned to Mrs. Mitchell and smiled warmly. “We’re delighted to help.”
“You were so kind to me, coming to see me and all, you were the first ones I thought of when the police phoned. There was no one else really. Thank you.”
Aunt Kay said, “It will be easier when Holly’s father is here to share the burden with you.”
“He can’t come down.” Aunt Kay and I exchanged looks. “He said he can’t get away.” Glancing in the rearview I saw her tears start.
“And he said it wouldn’t do any good anyway. He’s going to send me half of the cost of the funeral.”
The closer to Sarasota we got, the more she seemed to fold into herself, appearing smaller and smaller each time I checked in the mirror.
This time the super opened the door for us. Up close she had olive skin and a faint mustache but she seemed friendlier than she had before. I’d worried all the way to Sarasota how awkward it might be if she mentioned that we were there before, but Bella only said, “Sorry for your loss,” and led the way to the elevator, pushing a luggage cart.
Truthfully, Mrs. Mitchell wouldn’t have noticed if Bella had said a hundred people had come by asking about Holly.
Bella opened the door to the apartment and stepped aside. “I’ll wait here, give you some privacy.”
“Thank you.” Pushing the luggage trolley, I led the way with it into the apartment.
Aunt Kay practically had to drag Mrs. Mitchell inside. She hovered near the door, looking like she might bolt at any second. Her eyes grew wide with surprise and darted around the room. “I don’t understand.”
Aunt Kay wrapped her arms around Mrs. Mitchell’s shoulders and began making soothing noises.
Starkly modern, the apartment was done in tones of white, cream and beige, with glass and steel furniture sitting on plush carpeting and ebony hardwood. Dan had said that everything was packed and the apartment was neat. He hadn’t exaggerated. Against the wall by the entrance was a small pile of things. Other than that, the room was bare of any sign of human life, not a potted plant nor a discarded magazine in sight.
I went to check out the rest of the rooms.
In the bedroom there was a wall of mirrored closets where not even dust had been left behind. Across from the closets the sheer curtains were open on the million-dollar view over Sarasota Bay.
I turned away and opened the bedside table. Not even lint. Who leaves a place this clean?
In the bathroom fresh towels awaited new arrivals, just like in a hotel.
My search didn’t take long. The person who packed up hadn’t left any traces of the woman named Holly Mitchell except for the small pile of belongings near the front door.
On the way back to the living room, I went into the galley kitchen. It was so clean it looked like not even water had been boiled in there and it smelled of antiseptic cleaner. The first thing I did was open the doors of the refrigerator, maybe because that’s what I always do when I enter my own kitchen. The fridge was empty, not even half a jar of mayo left behind. Okay, say that Holly was obsessive about neatness and cleanliness; even so, does anyone move out and leave a place this bare?
At the edge of the door, between the wall and the fridge, I saw a sharp corner of a piece of paper, just a tiny triangle no more than a quarter of an inch. I closed the fridge and could no longer see it. I opened the door again and tried to reach the paper with my fingers, but they wouldn’t fit. I took two steak knives from a wooden block on the counter and, using them like tweezers, I locked onto a curled corner and pulled the sheet forward to where I could reach it with the door closed. The paper was dry and crumpled from life behind the fridge.
I studied the grainy image, printed by an ordinary desk-jet printer, of a woman holding a baby. Then I carefully folded the sheet and stuck it in my purse.
In the living room Mrs. Mitchell had refused to budge from her position by the entrance. “I can’t,” she said when Aunt Kay asked her once again if she didn’t want to look in the other rooms. She’d already seen too much. Her cocoon of ignorance had been destroyed and her memories tainted.
“There’s nothing left in there anyway,” I told them. “I looked everywhere, checked all the drawers and cupboards.”
Mrs. Mitchell’s soft response was, “It doesn’t matter.” Her voice was full of defeat. Nothing was going to matter to her for a long time.
I pushed the luggage cart closer to the pile of boxes and started loading. There were two large wheeled suitcases, a cardboard box full of beauty products and two lidded plastic bins full of photo albums. There were also three more plastic bins full of shoes and purses. Still, it wasn’t a lot for twenty-one years of life.
Bella waited in the hall to lock the door. “Did you clean the apartment?” I asked.
She looked like I was accusing her of a crime. “The property manager called and told me to go through it after the police left. Everything personal I found I added to those bins, only a few things, and then I gave it a good cleaning just like I was told.”
“Bella, who owns the apartment?”
Her eyes slid sideways to Mrs. Mitchell. “You’ll have to ask the property manager about that.” She took hold of the luggage cart and pushed it towards the elevator.