A Dangerous Affair (49 page)

"It's under control," said the state police captain.

"And what about the two dead cops in Blanchart's house?"

"The media took care of it. Both men died in the line of duty defending the sheriff from a home invasion robbery. Their families were notified. Funerals are scheduled for next week."

The state attorney blew smoke. "What about the other bodies?"

The captain gestured toward the ground. "You're standing on them. We found a fake ID on the body inside the car Blanchart sank. The serial number on the gun we recovered came back to a Marsha Hollan from New York."

"What's her connection to Blanchart?"

"I'm still digging."

"What about the other woman?"

"Samantha Barnes. A thirty-three year old stripper from Manhattan. Since Marsha Hollan was from New York, I'm thinking there might be some connection."

The state attorney crushed out his cigarette beneath his penny loafer. "You think?" He stepped to the edge of the garbage mountain and stared at the cell tower lights across the interstate. "How much does Blanchart's wife know about our operation?"

"She's the least of our problems," said the captain. He looked back at the Lincoln. "Rumor has it she was banging some guy on the side and Blanchart caught her."

"Sounds like Blanchart couldn't satisfy his own constituents. What about our missing convict? Where the fuck is he and how much does he know?"

"He's on the loose, but we'll find him."

"Do it fast," said the state attorney. "He's a threat, and he's facing jail time. All we need is some liberal judge with a sympathetic ear to engage whatever bullshit story this guy decides to spin about Blanchart and this debacle he's promulgated. Everything comes back to Blanchart. This whole fucking mess falls on Blanchart."

"Better to deal with the devil we know than the devil we don't," said the captain.

"Not this time," said the state attorney. "Blanchart's made himself a liability. I want you to take him out, along with the missing wife and her convict boyfriend. And put a bow on it this time. We can't afford to have this blow up in our face."

"You say this like you're ordering Chinese take-out. I'm not in the murder-for-hire business. We can't kill everyone who comes in contact with Sheriff Blanchart."

"It's called damage control. I'll work on finding Blanchart's replacement. You make sure the deed gets done."

The captain looked up at the full moon shining above the landfill. He spotted the big dipper and caught the flash from a shooting star. "Must be my lucky day," he said as he reached for the back-up piece he brought to the party to ensure his silent partner stayed silent.

The state attorney slipped his hand inside his blazer. "You got here early."

"I like to be on time," said the captain.

"You could have picked a better place to meet."

"I could have picked a better partner."

"That makes two of us," said Blanchart from behind the yellow bulldozer. He held both men at gunpoint with the silenced .22.

"Where the hell have you been?" the captain asked him.

"Right place, right time," said Blanchart.

The state attorney backed away from the men with his hands in the air. "What are you doing?"

Blanchart shot the captain in the forehead twice, then he pointed the gun at his second target. "Taking out the trash."

"I was lying about everything I said," the state attorney back-pedaled. "I had to sell the story to get the captain here. I had to sound convincing."

"And the part about my wife?"

The state attorney moved slowly toward the Lincoln. "Just two guys shooting the shit. We go back a long ways. I put you in office. We had a deal."

Blanchart motioned with the gun. "I don't make deals. Get away from the car."

Urine trickled down the state attorney's leg. "You can't manage this alone. It's... it's too big. You need me."

"Who else knows about this operation?"

"No one."

Blanchart shot the state attorney in the hand. A through-and-through that left a small hole in the palm between the thumb and index finger. "I'm not convinced."

The state attorney clutched his wrist. Blood drizzled down his jacket sleeve. "I swear I would tell you if I knew."

Blanchart shot him in the thigh, clipping the femoral artery. "Does that jog your memory?"

The state attorney dropped to the ground and screamed, "You're out of your fucking mind!"

"You're running out of time, counselor."

"Wait!" The state attorney gripped his leg. Blood gushed between his fingers. "If there are any leaks in the captain's department, I'll help you find them and put this mess behind us. Then we can get on with doing what we do best."

"Which is what?"

"Making money. Lots and lots of money. In a few years we'll both retire with more money than God and walk away. Your wife'll have the life she always dreamed of."

Blanchart thought for a second, then said, "I
am
the life she always dreamed of."

"Are you fucking kidding me? I'm bleeding to death over here!"

"That's the first truth I've heard all night," said Blanchart.

"You're insane!"

Blanchart shot the state attorney in the head. Then he climbed inside the bulldozer cabin, wincing from a tender left arm, and started the motor. He lowered the bucket and shifted into forward gear. Tomorrow was a new day. And with it, another chance to reclaim what was lost.

Chapter 77

Jamie admired the sunset view from the balcony of an ocean-front suite. A light breeze swept eastward from the cool Pacific Ocean, toting a patch of wispy clouds in the endless expanse of the southern California sky.

Lloyd came up behind her and kissed the back of her neck. He hugged her gently, overlapping his arms onto hers. "This looks heavenly."

"I love it," said Jamie. "The ocean is so vibrant at night."

Lloyd kissed her shoulder. "I wasn't talking about the water."

Jamie felt Lloyd's powerful arms around her. His strength and warmth brought her comfort like she'd never known before. Her confidence bloomed. "I wish we could stay here forever."

Lloyd hugged her tighter. "You'll like Mexico even better."

Jamie inhaled the salty air and watched the sun fade away. "I'm grateful you came into my life."

"I'm grateful you wash your car," said Lloyd.

Jamie turned around to face her man and brushed her fingers on his face. "I'm serious. We found each other for a reason. I don't know why. I can't explain it. I'm just... so happy. If we'd never met I'd still be—"

"Don't go there," said Lloyd. "Stay focused on the here and now. Good things happen to good people. I can't imagine my life without you."

Jamie blushed. "I've never been to Mexico." She tried to bury her apprehensions, but she couldn't hold back the tears. "I'm sorry. I'm not usually like this. If something happens to you—"

"It won't."

"Promise me?"

Lloyd wiped her tears away with his thumb. "I promise you."

Jamie kissed his hand. "I feel like I've known you all my life, but I also feel like I hardly know you at all. Does that make any sense?"

"Ask me anything," Lloyd prompted her. "Anything you want. I keep no secrets from you."

"I doubt
that
," she teased him.

"Try me."

"Can you swim?"

"Like a fish."

Jamie thought about her grumbling stomach. "Do you cook?"

"Sort of."

"What does that mean?"

"I can boil water," said Lloyd.

"I don't even know your birthday. Or where you were born."

"January 20th. I was born in Florida."

Jamie followed him from the balcony to the furnished room with a sitting area beside the king-size bed and a small armoire. Soft textures and framed artwork gave the suite a homey feel. "How long can we stay here?"

"Until we get our money squared away. It's too risky to travel with all this cash."

Jamie checked her makeup in the hall mirror. "Let's go out tonight and celebrate. We can go someplace quiet."

"I think we should keep a low profile. The less we're out in public, the better."

"Once we leave here," said Jamie, "are we ever coming back?"

Lloyd plopped the suitcase on the bed and unzipped the top. "Why don't we go for a walk on the beach tonight. I can show you the constellations. Give you something to dream about."

"I have plenty to dream about," said Jamie. She scratched the back of her head and felt a tiny lump like a tick burrowed inside her scalp. She dug her nail at the minor irritation until it bled. "I'll be right back," she told Lloyd.

Lloyd poked at the suitcase contents and the bundles of cash. "If we exchange this all at once it'll draw too much attention."

Jamie opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom to inspect the lump in the mirror. "I agree." She parted her hair. The more she picked at the BB-size object, the more it hurt. She took a nail file from her purse and pressed the tip to her scalp, determined to root out whatever burrowed itself in her head. She worked the tip gently up and down between the follicles, applying minimum force until she broke the skin. Relying more on touch than sight, she dug out a plastic sliver and pinched it between her nails. "Lloyd! Lloyd—come in here!"

Lloyd dropped the money and found Jamie at the sink. "What's wrong?"

"Look at this," said Jamie.

Lloyd stared at the tiny object in her bloody fingertips. "What happened?"

"I thought I had a tick in my—"

"Flush it!" Lloyd urged her.

"Why?"

Lloyd pushed her hand over the toilet bowl. "Hurry up."

"You're scaring me," said Jamie, startled by Lloyd's reaction and the sudden knock at the door.

"Housekeeping," announced a woman outside the 10th floor ocean-front suite.

Lloyd motioned for Jamie to stay put. He ventured toward the door as the maid pushed her cart inside the room. "No thank you," Lloyd told the maid firmly, as Jamie followed him from the bathroom.

"Wrong answer," said Blanchart, forcing his way past the hotel employee at gunpoint. He aimed the silenced .22 at Lloyd to control the room. Then he moved his arm and fired a single round at the maid's temporal lobe and shut the door. "Let's try this again."

"How did you—"

"Your bunkmate proved useful after all," said Blanchart. "He did all the talking. The tiny tracker I planted did all the heavy lifting for me. Finding you was a walk in the park."

Lloyd visualized Marvin's body in the shed. "Then you killed him and dumped him in a hole like an animal."

Blanchart smirked. "I didn't have room in the trunk."

Jamie clung to Lloyd's side.

Blanchart kept the gun on Lloyd. "I believe you have something that belongs to me." He reached for Jamie's arm and yanked her away.

Lloyd reached for the folding knife he'd tucked inside his back pocket.

"Drop the knife and kick it to me," said Blanchart.

Lloyd dropped the knife and kicked it toward Blanchart. "The police are on the way."

Blanchart picked up the knife and slid it in his back pocket. He led Jamie by the hair toward the balcony.

"Let her go!" Lloyd fumed. "This ends with me."

Blanchart moved through the velvet drapes with Jamie clawing at his arms. "You brought this on yourselves."

"Let her go!"

"
You
did this to her," said Blanchart.

Lloyd stepped within arm's reach of the gun, prepared to sacrifice himself to stop a madman from destroying the one thing in life he was willing to die for.

"I'm not going to kill you," Blanchart said out of the side of his mouth. He brought Jamie to the edge of the balcony railing. "I found a murder victim at the scene of a domestic dispute. You killed the maid and shoved my wife over the balcony in a jealous rage. When I'm done with you, your prints will be on this gun, and you'll spend the rest of your life where you belong while I find a new Mrs. Blanchart to replace the old." He brought Jamie's head over the railing and kept the gun trained on Lloyd. "Where the head goes, the body follows."