Мэри Эндрюс - The Newcomer

“Okay, I just had a genius idea. What if you tell Evan he has to come to you if he wants Maya?”

“You mean here? Like, Florida?”

“Right here at the Murmuring Surf. The more I think about it, the better I like it. If Wingfield has to cross state lines to get her, that strengthens our case. It’s interstate commerce, possibly furthering the racketeering enterprise. The AUSA will love it.”

“And Wingfield? Seems to me he’s already pretty skittish.”

“Yeah, he is. I’ve been dealing with Evan for eighteen months now. He’s a cautious guy. He’s been blaming Tanya’s murder on Letty, but he has no idea exactly what Letty—or Maya—knows about Tanya’s death. As long as Letty’s alive, she’s a threat to him.

“The other thing that motivates him is greed. He’s still beside himself that he was dumb enough to put those real estate assets in Tanya’s name. Now? He tells himself that he’s a great dad, just looking out for the welfare of that little girl, but the truth is, it’s all about the money. If Letty’s alive, he’s fighting her in court over that guardianship, and there’s no guarantee he’ll prevail. I’m sure he thinks fifty thousand dollars is a reasonable investment to protect his own interests. Hell, he’ll probably find a way to make it a tax write-off. Cost of doing business.”

Joe leaned forward and braced his hands on his knees. “But first we gotta convince Wingfield that Letty is dead, and that she won’t be found. I think we stage it so that it looks like I dumped her body in the Gulf. Weighted down with chains and an anchor.”

Vikki nodded thoughtfully. “So … sharks would take care of the rest. I like it.”

“We can take her out on my boat. I’ve got a twenty-two-foot Pathfinder. We wait until right before sundown. It’s more convincing that way. I’ll truss her up, fake up some blood. Take a photo and send it to him.”

“Chains and anchors? ‘Truss her up, fake some blood’?”

Joe and Vikki turned to see Letty standing in the apartment’s open doorway. “When were you two going to tell me about your plan? Before or after you threw me to the sharks?”

“It’s just for show,” Vikki Hill said. “You know Wingfield. You know how careful he is. We need to convince him you’re really dead.”

“I literally just came up with this idea,” Joe said, knowing it sounded lame. “We don’t have to do it that way if you don’t feel comfortable.”

Letty flopped down onto a chair at the dining table. “How exactly am I supposed to feel comfortable about posing as a corpse before becoming shark bait?”

“You’re not,” Vikki said. “No way around it, the next few days are going to be brutal for you, and that’s if we do everything right. Okay? But remember, we’re doing this so that you and Maya can be safe.”

“And so that Evan rots in prison for what he did to my sister,” Letty said. She sat up straight in the chair. “All right. Tell me the plan. I’m ready.”

Vikki cast a dubious eye about her as the Pathfinder bobbed in the water at the end of the boat ramp. “Are you sure this thing is safe to take out on the water? It looks awful small for three people.”

“Yes, it’s safe,” Joe said, annoyed. “This isn’t the S.S. Minnow, and we’re not going for a three-hour tour. From here, it’s a twenty-minute ride out to Egmont Key, tops.” He pointed at the bow of the boat. “The life jackets are in that locker up front. Feel free to put yours on.”

The FBI agent scowled, then opened the locker hatch, found an orange life vest, and tied it over her windbreaker.

He glanced at Letty, perched on the seat next to him on the center-console, and softened his tone. “Do you want a life jacket?”

She shook her head. “Let’s just go.”

He backed the boat slowly away from the concrete ramp, raising his voice over the din of the outboard engine. “Okay, the wind’s picked up some, and we’ve got a light chop, which means I’m gonna need to run the boat pretty fast to get out to the ship channel and back before dark. I’m warning you, we could get bounced around a little, but again, it’s perfectly safe.”

“Ready?”

Vikki shrugged, Letty nodded.

He pushed the throttle and the Pathfinder surged forward. Letty grasped the console and gritted her teeth as the boat rose up on a wave, then slapped down hard. Water splashed over the gunwales, and Vikki let out a muffled screech before scurrying toward the bench seat in the stern of the boat.

The wind whipped her hair and clothes, and she could feel her sneakers and pant legs growing wet and cold from water being splashed into the boat, but Letty felt weirdly energized by the boat’s motion. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out on the water—maybe as a teenager, when a boyfriend had taken her waterskiing on a lake? She’d loved the freedom, the sense of watching land recede as they moved across the horizon.

Gradually she got accustomed to the Pathfinder’s pace, bending her knees to absorb the shocks of the teeth-jolting ride. The sun was starting to dip toward the horizon, and the late-winter sky was streaked with gradations of orange and purple and blue.

Joe nudged her in the side and pointed off to the boat’s port side. “Dolphins!”

A pair of the sleek curved-back creatures dove in and out of the waves beside them, seemingly racing to keep pace with the boat. Letty watched, entranced, wishing that Maya could have seen them, too.

He must have read her mind. He leaned in close to be heard over the din of the engine. “When this is all over, we’ll bring Maya out dolphin-watching. Okay?”

She nodded.

The boat thudded and rocked, the wind howled, and waves slapped at the bow. Finally, Joe pulled the throttle back and the Pathfinder slowed and then stopped.

“This is the ship channel,” he said. “It’s ninety feet deep here. Perfect place to bury a body.”

Letty turned and saw Vikki, leaning over the back of the boat, hurling her guts into the swirling green water.

“Aaaarggghhhh.” The FBI agent straightened and sank down onto the bench, wiping her mouth with the hem of her windbreaker.

“Are you okay?” Letty asked, sitting beside her.

“No,” Vikki said, closing her eyes. “I will never be okay until this voyage of the damned is over.”

Joe reached into the cooler at his feet and handed over a bottle of water. “Here. Take a sip. Slowly.” He pulled a small foil packet from a compartment in the console. “You want a Dramamine? You didn’t tell me you get seasick.”

“You didn’t tell me we were heading out to sea in gale-force winds,” Vikki shot back. “If I’d wanted a roller-coaster ride I’d have gone to the county fair and ordered a corn dog. Now give me the damned Dramamine and let’s get this done.”

He pointed to the sandy, tree-lined shoreline in the distance. “This ain’t out to sea. That’s Egmont Key right there. But whatever.”

He went to the Pathfinder’s stern and lowered one anchor, then climbed onto the bow and dropped a second.

When he returned to the two women he was carrying a lidded plastic five-gallon bucket and a third anchor attached to a long length of chain.

He lightly touched Letty’s arm. “Vikki’s right. Let’s get this over with. Ready?”

She swallowed hard and rose unsteadily to her feet. “Yeah. Just tell me what to do.”

“Come on up to the bow with me. I’ll get you posed, and then Hill, once you’re done tossing your cookies, you can play photographer.”

Joe hefted the lidded bucket onto the bow, alongside the third anchor, which was attached to a long length of chain.

He offered Letty a Dramamine. “You might want this. Even though I’ve got us on the backside of Egmont, facing into the wind, I can’t completely stabilize the boat.”