John Miller - Too Far Gone

“Leland Ticholet.”

“Who?”

“Swamp Boy.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“But I never go there after five. The offices are closed except for a skeleton crew. How about early in the morning? I might not be able to come back home. The way back into town is being blocked by highway patrolmen.”

“If they won’t let you through, call me.”

“You’re going to get me fired,” Veronica said weakly.

“That is the least of your worries,” Alexa told her.

It was dark when Alexa arrived on St. Charles Avenue, parked, and climbed into Manseur’s car. A man she had never seen before was in the back seat.

“Alexa, Larry Bond. Larry, Agent Keen,” Manseur said.

“Pleasure,” Bond said. Manseur’s ex-partner wasn’t at all what Alexa expected. He was blond, muscular, and tall. His face was all sharp angles and sunburnt. “Decell’s been in the house since he got here from the bank.”

“Casey arrived twenty minutes ago,” Manseur said.

“Was Grace with her?”

“She was alone, far as I could tell. Might have the little girl with her.”

Alexa opened her cell phone and dialed. “Casey, it’s Alexa.”

“You won’t believe this, but I was just about to call you,” Casey told her. “I’m conflicted and I’m trusting you to tell me something.”

“Shoot,” Alexa said.

“I’m at Unko’s. He admitted there was a ransom demand for Gary, and that he faked the note to keep you and Manseur from screwing things up. The kidnappers are going to be watching, the note said.”

“You saw the ransom demand note?”

“Yes. I threatened to call you, so he and Decell showed it to me. They didn’t want to. I want you to promise me you won’t interfere in getting Gary back. But I want you involved, Alexa. You’re better at this than Unko and Decell. I can’t risk Gary getting hurt.”

“It’s your call, Casey, not your uncle’s. Gary is your husband.”

“They treat me like I shouldn’t know anything. If it’s my call, I’m making it. Unko’s going to pay in bearer bonds. I told him he had to tell you and he and Decell both said that if I did, Gary’s death would be on my head. The note says that Unko is to handle the actual swap. It could be dangerous, couldn’t it? Decell should do it.”

“This is far too dangerous for your uncle to deal with. I doubt even Decell is capable of handling it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s possible that the person who has Gary may have killed Nurse Fugate. If it is who I think it is, he’s very dangerous and mentally unstable.”

“Alexa, there’s something else.”

“What?”

“I overheard Unko and Decell talking about some item Decell had to make sure he got from the kidnapper, no matter what else happened.”

“Gary could be the item he meant,” Alexa said.

“I don’t think it was a reference to Gary. I know it sounds paranoid, but I think they have more than just Gary to recover in this exchange. I didn’t hear it all, but I’m sure Unko said something about a diary.”

“That’s interesting,” Alexa said, remembering the secret stash in Fugate’s closet. If Fugate had kept her diary under the floor, there was no telling what she might have written in it that LePointe wanted it back to prevent anyone knowing its contents.

An ambulance raced past, its siren blaring.

“Where are you?” Casey asked.

“I can’t say,” Alexa said, knowing Casey had heard the siren in stereophonic glory.

“You’re right outside!”

“Look, I’ll do whatever I can, you know that. Try to trust me a little longer.”

“I knew you were good. You already knew there was a ransom demand, didn’t you? You’re going to follow to the exchange, aren’t you?”

“I need to get off the phone, Casey. We’ll talk later.”

“The note said Unko was to come alone and that they’d know if anybody else was with him or following him.”

“Casey, do you know where Grace is?”

“Her phone must be off. I’ve tried to call her several times, but I get her message. Why?”

“I just wanted to be sure you weren’t alone,” Alexa lied. “The waiting will be excruciating for you until this is over. Where’s Deana?”

“I have someone watching her at home.”

“Just a sec, Casey.” Alexa muted her phone and told Manseur and Bond what Casey had said. “Grace is in the wind,” she whispered. “Fugate may have had a diary. That may be the trigger we discussed.”

“Grace is going to be involved in the drop,” Manseur said.

“If there aren’t but a couple of people involved, I suspect she’s got a job to do. Since she doesn’t know that she’s a suspect and was sure she’d learned everything she could from Casey, she’s free to help out. What about the GPS tracker?”

“I got a pair of trackers and receivers. How are we going to get them planted?”

“LePointe’s security is first-rate,” Bond said.

“I have an idea,” Alexa said.

She unmuted the phone and put it against her ear. “Casey, I need to ask you if you are willing to do something for me. It’s important. It may also be risky.”

“Name it, Alexa,” Casey said.

Thirty minutes later, Casey appeared on the inside of the wrought-iron fence and Alexa handed her two half-dollar-sized disks. “They’re magnetized,” she said. “One for the Bentley and the other for Decell’s car, so we can cover either or both. You think you can attach them without being seen and get back inside without being detected?”

“God, I’ve sneaked out of that house a million times without getting caught,” Casey assured her. “They aren’t interested in what I’m doing. They’re making plans, or going over their plans. The note said the exchange would begin at nine, so I’m sure Unko will be leaving before then.” Casey reached out and took Alexa’s hand. Casey’s hand was warm and her touch warmed and assured Alexa.

“How will they contact him?” Alexa asked.

“Calling his cell phone. Unko’s supposed to come alone.”

“Will Decell be following along?”

“I don’t know how they’re doing it. I’m sorry. But Decell must be planning to go. Unko wouldn’t do it alone if it’s dangerous.”

Unless not doing it is more dangerous. “It doesn’t matter,” Alexa assured her. “Whichever car they use, we’ll be ready.”

“Okay. Will you call me as soon as it’s over?”

“Word of honor,” Alexa said.

Casey squeezed Alexa’s hand, released it, then turned and was gone.

Casey West threaded her way between the bushes surrounding the courtyard to reach the cars parked there. She moved cautiously, keenly aware of the guard stationed at the gatehouse and of the closed-circuit cameras that covered the grounds. There was a second guard walking the property and she’d have to watch out for him.

Kneeling, she planted the first of the devices under Ken Decell’s sedan to the frame, and after making sure it adhered to the steel, she scatted back into the foliage, to wait for the camera to take in the cars and sweep past to scan the portico.

As soon as the camera made its arc, she moved, stopping beside her Rover. Looking over the hood to check the camera’s position, she was ready to move to her uncle’s Bentley, when sudden light drew her eyes to the second guard, coming directly up the driveway toward her, a lit flashlight in his hand. She crouched down and froze. When the guard drew even with the back bumper of the Bentley, he stopped, and she flattened herself to the ground hastily. She heard a lighter click open and the odor of cigarette smoke reached her. The guard remained against the Bentley smoking, showing no sign of going anywhere any time soon.