James Patterson - Lifeguard

Here eyes narrowed. “Oh no. What is it?”

I swallowed, uneasily. “I think I might know someone who was involved.”

“Okay,” she said, “and you were going to share this with me when, Ned? Another old friend?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Actually… my father.”

Ellie blinked a couple of times. I could see her trying to remain calm. “ Your father ! I know he has a record, Ned. But just how in the hell is he involved with seven murders?”

I cleared my throat. “I think it’s possible he knows who Gachet is.”

“Oh,” Ellie grunted, staring incredulously at me, “I thought it was something important, Ned. Is it possible you could maybe have told me this, say, before I threw my career away by bringing you here?”

I told her how Mickey never made a move without him, my conversation with him at Fenway Park.

“Your father knew you were going to visit Dave?” Ellie asked, wide-eyed.

“No,” I said. The thought was too gruesome. Even for Frank.

“You know, from what you’re telling me,” Ellie said, “we’re going to have to bring him in.”

“It won’t do any good,” I said. “First, the guy’s a pro, Ellie. He’s spent a quarter of his life in prison. Second, there’s nothing to play against him. He’s sick, Ellie. Dying of some kidney disorder. He’s not going to roll over. He was willing to let his own son take the fall.

“Anyway, he’d never have killed them. Mickey was like a son to him. Now he’s lost two because of his messes.” The image of Dave’s body came back to me. “Not to mention me.”

Ellie kept surprising me. She reached out and took hold of my hand. “I’m sorry, Ned, I truly am, about your brother.”

I wrapped my fingers around hers. I looked into her face and braved a smile. “You know I don’t have those paintings, don’t you, Ellie? You know I didn’t kill any of those people. Mickey, Tess, Dave…”

“Yes,” Ellie said, nodding, “on all counts.”

Something changed for me as I looked into those soft blue eyes. Maybe it was the way I had seen her at Stratton’s party. Adorable but so brave, standing up to him. Or what she was doing for me now. The risk she was taking. It felt so good, after so long, to have someone on my side.

“Ellie?” I said.

“Yes,” she murmured. “What now?”

“Don’t arrest me for this…”

I placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her gently on the lips.

I KNEW THAT wasn’t the smartest thing to do. I half expected her to jump up and shove me away: Have you lost your mind ?

But she didn’t. Ellie just sort of lifted her chin and parted her mouth, and her tongue danced around mine a little, soft and warm. The whole thing took both of us by surprise. Suddenly I had my arms around her and I was pulling her against me, until I could feel her heart beating against my chest. You know, sometimes it takes just one kiss to find out if the sparks are really there. They were.

I held my breath as we let go. I was scared of what she was going to say. I brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes.

Her eyes were sort of blinking – as though maybe she wasn’t sure about what had just happened, either.

“It’s not right, Ned.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Ellie. It was just that it was so good to finally hear that you believe me. And you were looking so cute up on that terrace. I guess I was overwhelmed.”

“Not that.” She looked at me and curled a little smile. “ That part was great. I was just thinking about Stratton. He’s got these amazing new acquisitions. If he did this theft for the insurance, why press finding the stolen art? He’s got what he wanted.”

“Maybe he wants them back,” I said. “You know, have his cake and eat it, too.”

“Listen,” she said, focusing herself, “don’t get attached to this , Ned. This was basically a handshake. To reflect our new working agreement.”

I tried to pull her close again. “I was hoping we might take it straight to contract form?”

“Sorry,” she sighed. “Call me old-fashioned, but you’re a wanted man and I’m the FBI. Besides, there’s work to do.” She reached out and pulled me up. I was surprised at how strong she was. “You gotta go. You won’t be offended, will you, if I ask you to leave by the back door?”

“No,” I laughed, “it’s become part of my regular routine.”

I went to the porch door and slid it open. I looked back at Ellie. I didn’t know if it was a mistake, what we’d done. Or if it would happen again. I understood the risk she was taking with me. Our eyes met.

I smiled from the door. “Why are you doing this, Ellie?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Let’s just say I’m boxing, Ned.”

“Boxing?”

“I can’t explain right now. You gonna be okay?”

I nodded. “Well, whatever it is, thank you, Ellie.”

“I told you, it was just a handshake,” she said with a wink.

I shook my head. “I meant for believing in me. Nobody has in a long while.”

THE TALL MAN was hunched down in the front seat of the tan Ford, resting the Nikon on his lap, about fifty feet from Ellie Shurtleff’s house. He was getting too old for this. And these cars were too cramped. He was thinking about the old days, when you could really stretch out your legs in a Cougar or a Grand Am.

He saw someone leaving Ellie Shurtleff’s house from the back. Okay , he thought, angling the Nikon, time to shift into gear .

Holy Shit ! He jumped up, did a double take. That was Ned Kelly walking into the street.

It was de fi nitely Kelly. He clicked off a few frantic shots. Click, click, click . He felt as if he were having a heart attack.

All he was supposed to do was keep a tab on sweet little Ellie. He never expected anything this good. He followed Kelly down the street and zoomed in with the lens.

Click, click .

Of course, he knew the schmuck was innocent. Obviously the FBI gal felt that way, too. Or she was in cahoots with him.

He started thinking about what he should do. He could run up and arrest Kelly. Build a whole career on this. Get his face on the front page of USA Today . Course, then he’d have to explain what he was doing keeping tabs on Ellie.

He zoomed in and took a last shot of Ned Kelly climbing into some old clunker. Close-up of the North Carolina plates. Another shot on Kelly’s face. Guy didn’t look too bad for the wear and tear.

Oh, you got balls, honey , the tall man had to admit. The whole world was out looking for him, and look where he was – at your house .

The tall man put down the camera and, flicking a matchbook deftly through the fingers of his right hand, watched Kelly drive away.

Diminutive , he thought, nodding to himself, but ballsy .

BY THE TIME I got back to Champ’s cycle shop it was close to midnight. To my surprise, I spotted a light on inside. Then I saw Champ’s Ducati parked by the Dumpster.

“Late night?” I heard him say as I slipped in through the door connected to the garage bay. Champ was sitting down with his feet up on the counter, his chair angled back, and the omnipresent bottle of beer. The TV was on. Jay Leno interviewing Nicole Kidman.

“National Pride Night?” I said, taking a seat in a chair next to him.

“She’s an Aussie, mate. I’m Kiwi,” Geoff replied, a little peeved. He offered me a beer. “I don’t assume you know last night’s curling results just ’cause you were born up near Canada, do I?”