Safe Harbor (39 page)

* * * *

Sully hung up and studied the map. They’d had Mac’s phone on speaker mode and taped the call. Sully used Mac’s knowing his own phone appeared as “Master” on her caller ID. He didn’t want Jason’s phone associated with this.

He hoped she’d come up with a good explanation for “Sir B.”

Sully worked on his laptop to trace her phone’s GPS, then swore when he realized the fucker had shut it off again. He tried to call back, but it went straight to her voice mail.

“She’s in a motel in Palm Harbor, on or near Alternate 19,” Sully said, studying the map.

“How can you be that sure? I know the Palm Harbor part, but the location?”

“She specifically pronounced it ‘alternit’ and used military time.

Nineteen-hundred. She never uses military time. Alternate 19, in Palm Harbor, but not on Alt. 19, close by.” He flipped between windows on the computer, trying to locate any motels that would fit the bill. A minute later, he pointed at the screen. “There.” He couldn’t believe Bryan hadn’t ditched her phone. Even more astounding, that he let her answer it and talk. The trifecta, that he let her keep talking as long as he did.

Thank God for the tracking software. Next time, he’d be ready.

Jason looked over his shoulder. “There’s at least six different motels in that area. We don’t know which side of Alt. 19 she’s on.

“We’ll find her.” He powered down the laptop and started packing. “Come on.”

367

Jason helped him gather some things. Sully followed Jason to his house, where Jason grabbed a bulletproof vest and another gun. “You gonna help me pay my mortgage if I lose my bennies over this?”

Jayce snarked.

“Buddy, I’ll pay
off
your fucking mortgage.”

* * * *

After his shower, Bryan sat on the bed and looked at Clarisse.

“You’ve really changed. What the fuck happened to you?” He’d viciously ripped off the duct tape and grinned when she glared at him.

“You happened to me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m about to shit on your parade. I read in the paper about that guy on the boat. Glad I didn’t kill the cash cow. We’re going to call your writer cop buddy, and he’s going to make a little withdrawal at his bank. By the time I leave, I’ll have enough to get to South America and retire. I’ve got a contact there who needs a computer expert. Easy money, no fucking hassles.” He stretched out on the bed. “So what’s the deal? You fuck that guy Nicoletto for rent?

That’s all you’re worth anyway.”

She clenched the arms of the chair as much as the duct tape would allow. “He’s my husband, asshole.” Probably the wrong thing to say, but she couldn’t stand listening to his mouth.

Bryan’s eyebrows arched. “Son of a bitch! You’re married to the fucker? How’d you sucker him into that?” He laughed, long and hard.

“Poor bastard. Well, maybe I can make him a widower.” He glared at her. “So you’re married to him, but you’re obviously close to that other asshole. I saw you kissing him. What’s the deal with that?” A slow, evil grin twisted his face. “You screwing around on your new hubby already? Or are you fucking both of them? Is that what the problem was, I didn’t share you with my buddies? Kinky bitch.

You’re a little fucking slut whore, aren’t you?”

Clarisse struggled against her bonds. “I’m gonna kill you, you son

368

of a bitch!”

He laughed and raised the gun, the sight of which stilled her movements. “No, I don’t think so.”

* * * *

Three hours later, Sully and Jason were set up in a motel in Palm Harbor. Sully used a fake name and paid cash for the room. They scouted all the nearby motels close to where the last tracking signal had pinged. When Bryan’s call came in an hour before dark, Sully had the GPS software loaded and logged on, ready to trace the phone’s location.

“Is this Nicoletto?” the man asked.

“Yes. Where’s Clarisse?”

“She’s okay. She’s alive, for now. So, she’s your wife, huh?”

Sully winced. He’d hoped that wouldn’t come out, knowing it would make Bryan want to get more than money out of her. “Yes.”

“I think that ups my price. I don’t mind keeping her safe for a few more days. Two hundred thou, cash. I know it’ll take a couple of days for you to get it together. I also know you’ll want to talk to the Feds.

If you do, she’s dead. Lots of wetlands around here to dump a body, lots of Dumpsters.”

Sully tried for a scared tone of voice so he didn’t sound maliciously pissed. “Please, don’t hurt her.”

“You’re not so tough now, are you?” Sully heard a loud slap.

“What the fuck did you do to her? I slap her and it’s like she’s a fucking deaf mute.”

In the room, Clarisse glared up at Bryan. That did it. She
would
kill the fucker if she had the chance. If he put the gun down, she would get it, somehow. He had to sleep sometime. He’d cut her free once to let her use the bathroom but kept the gun trained on her the entire time. When he rebound her, he only taped her legs to the chair.

He handcuffed her hands in front of her, in her lap. He’d put more

369

duct tape on her mouth and ripped it off so she could tell him the number to dial on her phone to call Sully.

“No! Please, don’t hurt her!”

“Then get me the fucking money, asshole.” He hung up, shut off the phone, and threw it onto the bed. “You’re going to make me a rich man, baby.”

“Don’t fucking call me that!”

“Well then, how about I call you a cocksucking whore? You prefer that?”

Clarisse watched him, engaged in a staring match. He finally blinked first and shook his head. “I’ll fuck that attitude outta you before I get my money. Just not right now. I might have to move us someplace else tonight after it gets dark. I’ve been here too long.”

Her heart raced. If he moved her, Sully wouldn’t be able to find them as fast. At least she had a fighting chance here. She could only hope Sully understood her clues as well as he seemed to.

370

Sully and Jason ran out the door and down two blocks to stand across the street from another motel. On a quiet side street, the old nineteen-sixties vintage motor court had twenty rooms. Four cars sat in the lot, two with Florida plates, one from Michigan, and one from Virginia.

The men sat on a bus stop bench down the block and looked around like they were waiting for the next one.

“See anything?” Sully asked.

“Nope,” Jason said. “We sure this is him?”

“Pretty sure. We need to know which car.” They watched and waited. Fortunately, no bus came by. As dusk descended, they spotted lights on in four of the rooms, pinpointing where the occupants were in relation to their cars.

“How you want to handle this?” Jason asked. They’d moved to another bench, not visible from the motel, but they could still watch.

“I’m working on it.” They stood to walk toward their motel when a car bearing a lit pizza parlor sign on top pulled in to the motel. The driver went directly to the last room and knocked. They watched as a large man carefully opened the door and stepped out, not allowing the delivery guy to see inside the room.

Sully’s heart pounded, but he forced himself to keep his feet steady as he continued walking. “That’s him. That’s the son of a bitch.”

“You sure?”

“Yep. He’s shaved his head, but that’s him.”

“Let me call in a SWAT team—”

371

“No, fuck that. He’ll kill her, won’t give a shit then. She won’t have a chance.”

“Then what?”

Sully gritted his teeth. “I’ve got an idea.”

Once out of sight, they raced to their motel and climbed into Jason’s car. The small independent pizza parlor that delivered the pie to Bryan lay three blocks away in the other direction. A different delivery man stood outside smoking a cigarette.

Sully left Jason in the car and walked up to the guy, spoke with him for a moment. Sully reached into his wallet and passed him a few bills. The guy nervously looked around, then took the money before he disappeared inside. He returned a moment later and handed Sully a set of keys, a pizza box, and a shirt.

Sully jumped into another delivery car. Jason followed him back to their motel, where Sully wasted no time returning to their room.

“What the fuck?” Jason demanded.

Sully grinned, devoid of mirth. “I told the kid I wanted to play a practical joke on a friend to get back at the guy. Hey, shit happens.

Accidental double order.” He stripped off his shirt, donned the bulletproof vest, then pulled the pizza shirt on over it. He’d brought in a windbreaker from the car. It bore the pizza shop’s logo. When he pulled it on and zipped it, it hid most of the bulk.

“Go to the motel, check around the back, make sure there’s no rear entrance and that the bathroom window’s too small for a guy to get out.”

Jason raced to do it, returning a few minutes later. “Check. I couldn’t see through the window, it was frosted, but I heard a guy ranting and swearing.”

Sully’s gut clenched. “Could you tell if she’s there?”

“No, sorry.”

“Fuck.” He loaded the 9mm, chambered a round, and checked the safety. He looked at Jason. “When I get there, I’ll go in. You leave your car around back, keys on the floor, and drive the other car back

372

to the pizza joint. Park it around back, leave the keys in it, and meet me at our motel. Have everything packed and be ready to leave.”

“When do we call in reinforcements?”

Sully glared at Jason.

“Oh, fuck, man. No, come on. Neutralize him, get the hell out with her, and then we call for backup.”

Sully shook his head. “You with me or against me?”

“Fuck!” Jason ran a hand through his hair as he paced the room.

“It’s fucking murder! I can’t go along with that!”

“What do you call what he did to Mac? He tried to kill him. You saw what he did to Clarisse. You also know he probably had a hand in her parents’ deaths. His car gets stolen the night they’re killed in a hit-and-run? Come on, you can’t tell me that’s not hokey.”

Sully refused to cry despite the overwhelming emotion threatening to take him under. “It’s personal, Jayce. We don’t know for sure Mac’s gonna make it. He might not be able to live a normal life after this. You tell me what the fuck you’d do if it was your wife or daughter lying in that hospital bed!”

Jason stared at the wall for a long moment. “I don’t want to know what happens in there,” he quietly said.

“You grab the pizza guy’s car and leave. If it makes you feel better, you come back here and drive my car to Harborside and wait for me there. It’ll be there on surveillance video, give me an alibi. In fact, that’s for the best. Go sit with Mac for me.”

“My choices are to be a fucking pussy coward asshole or an accomplice to murder. Not very good.”

“You’re not a coward. You helped me find her. I can do the rest.

Your hands are clean, and I’ll still respect you in the fucking morning.” His face hardened. “I’m not letting this asshole get away with this. I won’t let him take the people I love away from me.

Besides,” he said with a smile, “a body means less fucking paperwork and no goddamn trial or IA investigation to sit through.”

That finally pulled a smile and laugh from Jason. “Jesus, Sul!” He

373

shook his head. “All right. You call me within twenty minutes after you go through the door, or I’m placing an anonymous call to 911 that there’s a violent domestic disturbance in progress. Deal?”

“Deal. Let’s go.”

* * * *

Sully kept the gun on the seat under the pizza. The pie had gone cold, but Sully didn’t care. It was only for show.

The kid at the parlor had looked up Bryan’s order. Bryan had used the name Smith.

Of course.

Paid cash.

Sully parked at the end of the building where Jason could easily get the car. Before he stepped out, he pulled a baseball cap also bearing the pizza parlor’s logo down over his head and slumped his shoulders. He pulled on a pair of gloves and balanced the pizza on top of the gun, which he held flat against the bottom of the box.

When he knocked, he heard an angry male voice swear. “Who’s there?”

Sully put on a fake Bronx accent. “Antonio’s Pizza. Got an order for Mr. Smith.”

“What the fuck?”

Sully heard the door unlock, and then Bryan opened it a little.

Sully couldn’t see past him into the room, but he saw all he needed.

The fingers of Bryan’s right hand were curled around the edge of the door, and the fingers of his left were pressed against the doorjamb.

No gun in his hands.

“I already got my pizza.”

Sully jammed the gun against Bryan’s chest. He pushed him inside the room and kicked the door shut behind him. “Special toppings, this time, asshole.” He didn’t dare take his attention off Bryan to look at Clarisse as he let the box drop to the floor. Outside,

374

he heard the car start and pull out.

The clock was ticking.

Bryan drew away from Sully. Sully was prepared and kicked out, knocking the larger man off balance. Bryan fell backward and started scrabbling toward the bed, where Sully saw the gun lying on the bedspread.

Fully aware Bryan couldn’t look like he was beaten to a bloody pulp for his plan to work, Sully hauled off and kicked him between the legs, nailing him in the balls. He didn’t get him as hard as he wanted. Bryan flipped over and kicked out, catching him in his bad leg.