As Good as Dead (7 page)

He settled on the bench next to Angel and dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. He might have preferred her mouth, but she had a straw in it.

While they waited for their orders, Angel and Tim told Callen
about Peter and Paul and their apparent quest to find Luke. When they’d finished, Callen removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll put out an alert, but I doubt it’ll do much good. The best we can do is hope the same person who went after Nick doesn’t go after them too. I just talked to Nick, and he’s fairly certain that the gardener who was at the funeral is the same person who tried to kill him.”

Callen pulled a paper out of his pocket. “Here’s something you may find interesting. I borrowed a picture of Luke from your mother and asked one of our computer experts to age enhance it and generate photos of what Luke might look like today with a few extra pounds, a beard, and glasses.” He handed Angel a faxed reproduction.

She stared at the photo, tears gathering in her eyes. “That’s him. That’s the guy at the funeral.” She handed the photo to Tim. “Why didn’t I go to him? Why didn’t I follow my instincts?”

Callen squeezed her shoulder. “You couldn’t have known, Angel.”

Tim, whose eyes had been focused on the photo, looked up at her. “I’ve seen this man before. At the church. I came into the sanctuary, and he was kneeling at the altar, praying.”

“When?” Angel asked.

“Um, I think it was around the time Dad had the heart attack.” He shook his head. “My own brother was here and I didn’t have a clue.”

“You talked to him?”

“No. If I had, maybe I’d have known. The minute he saw me, he took off. I thought he was homeless. I remember feeling a rush of compassion for him. As I think about it, I wonder if it could’ve been something else I felt. Maybe God was telling me the man was more than a stranger seeking refuge.” He sighed. “He seemed in a hurry to leave, and for a minute I thought I should go after him, but I didn’t.” Tim looked up at Angel, his eyes sad and misty. “God speaks, and we fail to listen. Guess we both missed the signals.”

Angel swallowed around the lump in her throat. “What now?”

“I’m distributing Luke’s picture,” Callen said. “He’s wanted for questioning, and hopefully we’ll get some response.”

“He’ll be arrested?” Angel didn’t much like that idea, but Callen was right. Alerting the police nationwide was perhaps the best way to get to Luke before the killer did. She took the photo facsimile back from Tim, folded it in half, and tucked it into her purse.

Their food came, and they ate—or tried to. As much as she loved the food at the Burger Shed, nothing tasted good. Callen and Tim had no problem devouring their meals, however. Callen had ordered tomato soup and a vegetarian sandwich with sprouts.

Angel eyed Callen’s meal with disdain. “You do know you could be shamed out of law enforcement for eating a healthy lunch like that, don’t you?”

He chuckled. “I’ve been teased a time or two, but I’ll take my chances.”

She raised her hands in mock surrender. Tim, she noticed, had ordered healthier as well.

She picked up a limp fry and dipped it in catsup but didn’t eat it. Sighing, she pushed her plate forward and got up. “I’m going home.”

“I don’t think you should tell Ma about all this,” Tim said, holding his half-eaten turkey and cheese on whole wheat bread only inches from his mouth.

“I wasn’t going to. She has enough to worry about. Talking about Luke would just upset her.”

Callen caught her arm as she went to pass him. “I’m knocking off early today so I can get some more work done on the house.”

She nodded, pausing to massage his shoulders. “I’ll pick something up at the store for supper.”

“You don’t need to. I’ll cook.” He tipped his head back.

“Good.” Though she didn’t much feel like having company, even Callen’s, she smiled. “That’ll be nice.”

If Callen noticed her dour mood, he didn’t comment. He and Tim were talking about the remodel before she was even out of
earshot. Angel hiked back up the hill to the church and climbed into her Corvette. Make that Luke’s Corvette.

Instead of going home, she went back to the hospital. Nick had claimed he didn’t know where Luke lived, but maybe he knew where Luke had been staying while in Sunset Cove. The manager of the place had probably gotten Luke’s license plate number and ID. There had to be some way to find him, though at the moment her prospects seemed hopeless.

NINE

T
he watcher spotted his image in the window and had to smile. He had the perfect disguise. So what if the hair hadn’t turned out exactly as he’d planned. This was even better. He’d read once that one of the best ways to hide was to be obvious and flamboyant.

He looked beyond his image to the hospital bed where Nick Caldwell lay. He’d failed with his first attempt to kill the cop, but he wouldn’t miss again. He’d had both men in his sights the day of the funeral, but he’d had to go buy that stupid camera, and when he’d gotten back to the motel both their cars were gone. He’d driven all over town trying to find them.

He rubbed his hands together. His boss was getting impatient. It had taken him a couple of days to find Caldwell and figure out what to do. His plan had been perfect. No way should that cop have lived. He could’ve sworn Caldwell had died out there on that deserted road. Fortunately, the papers had kept him informed. And he had taken his time to devise another plan. Caldwell wouldn’t survive this time.

Once the cop was dead, he had to figure out how to find Luke Delaney. The guy was probably long gone. He’d have to track him down somehow. Maybe when Delaney found out his buddy had been shot, he’d come back.

The watcher dismissed Delaney for now and focused instead
on killing the cop. Sooner or later Caldwell’s pals would leave. Night would come and the visits would stop, and then he’d make his move. He patted the hypodermic needle in the pocket of the white lab coat. A lethal dose of digitalis should do the trick. The medical examiner would blame his death on medication error. No one would link him to the “mistake.”

TEN

W
alking down the corridor, Angel stepped around a thin man in green scrubs and a lab coat who was pushing an empty wheelchair. His hair was an odd shade of orangey blond. Everyone was into coloring their hair these days, and some of the effects were just plain weird.

The guard outside Nick’s room gave her a nod as she approached. He’d been there earlier this morning when she’d had to show her ID. He’d checked the list of acceptable visitors and let her in. Looked like Joe Brady wasn’t taking any chances. Not that getting past security was all that difficult. One could pretend to be a doctor or nurse or an aide and easily gain entry.

The thought brought her up short. She stepped back into the hall. The guy with the wheelchair was gone; so much for her suspicious meanderings.

Nick was alone this time around. “Hey.” He seemed more alert and in less pain.

“Hey, yourself. Where’s Rosie?”

“I sent her home. Figured I could do without round-the-clock visitors.” He used the handheld control unit to raise the head of his bed.

“Hmm. You must be feeling better.”

“A little. Just figuring out how to move so it isn’t quite so painful. And they put me on pain pills instead of the hard stuff.”

Angel nodded. “You up to talking some more about Luke?”

“Ah, give me a break, Ange. Riley was just here asking all kinds of questions. Why don’t you talk to him?”

“Did you tell Callen anything you didn’t tell me?”

“How would I know? I’ve been too far out of it to remember much.”

“Nick, this is important.” She told him about the twins and their sudden trip to Florida. “Did you talk to them about Luke?”

“No.” He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “They’ve talked about Luke from time to time. After your dad died, they were all saying how sad it was that your dad hadn’t been able to see Luke before he died. Maybe that triggered something for them. All I know is that right after Luke disappeared they hired a PI to find him, but as far as I know they never located him. I never told them anything.”

Angel gripped the railing. “After the funeral, when you talked to Luke. Did he say where he was staying?”

“I went to his motel room, but only for a few minutes while he got his stuff. We went to get something to eat, and he took off from the restaurant.”

“Which motel?”

“What are you doing, Ange? You need to stay out of this.”

“I can’t. I’m a detective, remember? Please, Nick. I thought if I could find the place where he stayed, I might be able to get a license number. Most places want that when you check in.”

He sighed. “Ask Callen.”

“Did you notice the plates on Luke’s car?”

“No, they were too dirty. He didn’t want anyone to see them, and he doesn’t want to be found. If I’d known there would be trouble, I would’ve arrested him. He asked me not to say anything about his being here, and like a dope I went along with him.”

“Come on, Nick, tell me where he stayed. Maybe I can find something. I could stop at every motel between here and Newport, but that’ll take forever, and we need to find him.”

“All right. He was at the Sea Captain. It’s almost to Lincoln City. I doubt it will help, though.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.” Angel planted a kiss on his cheek
and left. On her way out she made it a point to check out every person she passed, partly to keep her eyes open for anyone remotely resembling Luke. If Luke had come back to see Pop after the heart attack, he might come to see Nick now. She saw no one resembling her older brother. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t there.

Angel headed north toward Lincoln City and pulled into the parking lot at the Sea Captain. Armed with the photo of Luke, she went into the office. A short, stout man came out to greet her. “Looking for a room?”

“No, but I’m hoping you can give me some information on someone who stayed here. I’m a detective, and I’m looking for this guy.” She unfolded the photo.

With wrinkled forehead, he studied the picture. “You’re the third one to come around here asking about him. There was another guy asking about him a few days ago, then a little while ago a detective came by.”

“What did he look like?”

“Skinny, dark hair. Said this guy had left something at his restaurant, and he wanted to return it. Wanted an address.”

“Did you give it to him?”

“I don’t have one. This guy you’re looking for. Is he a criminal or something?”

“No, he’s my brother.”

“Humph. Can’t tell you much. Signed in as Hal Perkins. He was here last Saturday. Seemed nice enough. Didn’t give us any trouble.”

“Did you verify his name with a driver’s license or credit card?”

“Nope. Seemed like he was in a hurry. Paid cash up front, so I figured it didn’t matter.”

“Did he give you a license plate number?”

“Yeah, I gave it to the detective who came by.” He read off the number, and Angel wrote it down. Oregon plates. She doubted Luke would be hiding out in Oregon. Probably a rental car.

“Thanks. Can you remember anything about him? Anything at all?”

He poked a finger in his ear and tipped his head to the side. “Nope.”

An older woman wearing glasses and a muumuu-type dress came up to the desk and glanced at the photo. “What’s going on?” She looked from Angel to the photo and back again.

“Do you recognize this man?” Angel asked.

“She says he’s her brother,” the man said.

“Sure. I talked to him once. He was going swimming and needed a towel. Nice man—seemed sad. Said he was here for a funeral.”

Angel’s heart leaped to her throat. “Did he say anything else, like where he was from?”

Her face wrinkled. “I don’t recall. Told me he missed his wife and his little girl.” She glanced at the picture again. “I can’t remember for sure, but I’m thinking he might have mentioned Idaho.”

His little girl?
Idaho?
Angel thanked them and gave them one of the new cards Rachael had ordered for her, the ones that said she was a private investigator. “If you think of anything else he might have said, even in passing, please call me.”

The woman nodded, took the card. “Like I said, I only saw him that once and for just a few minutes.”

Angel left, her mind racing with possibilities as she pointed the Corvette toward home. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d tried to figure out where Luke might have gone. Early on, she’d written down a number of possibilities. One of them had been Sun Valley, Idaho. Luke loved the mountains and water, and sports, especially swimming and skiing. He’d talked about getting a condo in Sun Valley and working there, but when the job came up in Fort Myers, he’d taken it, saying he planned to spend all of his spare time at the beach.

Angel had wanted to visit him in Fort Myers during spring break in her last year of college. He disappeared before she had a chance. Nick was right; gaining this information might prove useless. If Luke didn’t want to be found, he certainly wouldn’t be using his real name or license plate number. Was there any way to find him? He had to have left a clue of some sort.

Did he really have a child? Or had that been a ruse too? Angel had never even considered the possibility that Luke might have married. And a little girl. What if that part was real? Maybe he’d talked to the woman at the motel in a vulnerable moment. Angel clung to the possibility.

Callen’s SUV was already parked in the driveway when she arrived. Sporadic pounding came from the back of the house. The mail truck had driven away just as she arrived, so Angel pulled into the driveway and walked back to the road to check the box. Bank statement, a
Coastal Living
magazine, a postcard inviting them to list the house with Milestone Realtors. Intent on a card with a California postmark, she almost didn’t see the Priority Mail envelope leaning against the wall next to the screen door.

She picked it up, wondering who’d sent it. No return address, just square black printing that read “Luke Delaney” and a postmark from Portland. Her heart hammered and her stomach clenched—and her police training took over. Heavily taped, no return address. And according to Nick, Luke was in danger. She carefully set the envelope on the wicker table and went inside. Tossing the rest of the mail on the small end table, she closed the door softly behind her. Her gaze took in the empty room, the silent kitchen. Smells emanating from it promised a scrumptious dinner. “Ma?”