As Good as Dead (8 page)

Getting no response, she padded back to the master bedroom, where Callen was working.

“She’s out in the garden.” Callen glanced up at her, and his smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

“Good. I mean, I’m glad she’s out there.” Angel peered out the window and, satisfied that her mother wouldn’t overhear, told Callen about the package. “Maybe I’m paranoid with what’s been going on, but... I have a weird feeling about it.”

“Then we’d better have it checked out.” Callen walked with her back to the front door and peered out the window.

“We don’t want to walk out there,” he said. “We’ll want the CSI team to go over the porch, and the less contamination, the better.”

That was one of the things she loved about Callen. He took
her concerns as seriously as he would a colleague’s. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he called the Oregon State Lab and asked that an explosives team be sent out. When he’d hung up he glanced at the kitchen. “They’ll be here in about an hour. In the meantime we’ll have to decide what to do about Anna.”

“Decide what to do about me?” Anna wandered into the living room. “What have I missed?”

Breath rushed out of Angel’s lungs.
Great. Just great.
The last thing her mother needed was to see that letter or the bomb squad.

“You’re not thinking about sending me to some retirement home, are you?”

“Of course not, Ma. Callen was just...”

“We were wondering what you might want to do while we’re on our honeymoon,” Callen told her.

“You’re getting married? Oh!” She clasped her hands, which wasn’t easy with a cast covering much of her right hand. “This is wonderful. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Angel glared at Callen. “Honey, you shouldn’t get her hopes up like that. Ma, we were just talking. We’re not getting married for a long time. By the time we do, you’ll be back to your old self.”

Callen winked at Anna. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. Maybe you can talk her into making it sooner.”

Anna chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

“How about taking a ride with me?” Angel asked, trying to come up with a diversion. “Maybe we can pick up your granddaughters and get a cup of coffee and a treat at Joanie’s. Callen is hammering up a storm, and I’d just as soon not be around to hear it.”

Anna sighed. “That sounds nice. I haven’t been out in a while, have I? And I’d love to see the girls. I’ll get my jacket.”

When Anna had gone to her bedroom, Angel wrapped her arms around Callen’s waist. “Thanks. I didn’t want to lie to her.”

Callen kissed her nose. “You did good. Hopefully the team won’t have to spend much time here. I’d rather you didn’t come out this way. Any chance you could walk along the beach?”

“Sure. She should be able to make it there, but I may have to call you to come get us.”

“Perfect. By the time you’re ready for me to pick you up, everything will be back to normal, and she’ll never know.”

“Be careful,” Angel whispered as she left him. She guided her mother out the back door. “We’re walking,” she said. “We both could use the exercise.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

Once they were out on the hard-packed sand and walking toward town, Angel allowed herself to relax a bit. She’d have liked to hang around and watch the bomb tech at work but felt the trauma would be too much for her mother.

“All right, missy,” Anna said in a decidedly maternal tone. “What’s going on? And don’t feed me that line about you and Callen getting married.”

Uh oh.
Angel rolled her eyes. She should have known better than to think they could hide anything from Anna Delaney. Angel had a mother with eyes in the back of her head and intuition that would put any psychic to shame.

“A package came today, and it looked suspicious.” Angel’s gaze fastened on the shapes drawn in the sand by the incoming waves.

“Suspicious in what way?”

“It’s probably my imagination working overtime, but with what happened to Nick, Callen and I thought it best not to take any chances.”

“You think it may be a bomb or one of those letters tainted with poison?”

“There was no return address, and the way it was wrapped made me suspicious. At any rate, the police will check it over.”

“Any idea who sent it?”

Angel shook her head.

“Hmm. Think it might be from those thugs who vandalized your apartment?”

She was assuming the package had been addressed to Angel, and Angel didn’t bother to correct her.

“You didn’t have to get rid of me. I’m perfectly capable of handling...” Her shoulders slumped forward. “On second thought, I’m not sure I am anymore.”

Angel wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “You’ve been through so much, and we just thought it would be better if you didn’t have to deal with something else.”

“Thank you for telling me. It’s important I know what’s going on.”

Angel nodded, wondering what her mother would say if and when she learned that Luke had been at the funeral. She certainly wasn’t going to tell her. So far, at least, Ma hadn’t figured that one out.

ELEVEN

C
ade parked a block away from the Delaney house. He’d been right in estimating the arrival date. He’d called the post office to learn the approximate time of delivery. He’d been there only a few minutes when Angel pulled into the driveway.

Now, an hour later, he eased his rented Lexus past the house, eyeing the cops who were meticulously getting ready to detonate the bomb and working feverishly to gather evidence. The bomb tech in the ballistic suit had cordoned off the area and was setting up a portable X-ray around the package. To protect themselves, they wouldn’t likely take prints prior to detonating the package, but even if they did, they wouldn’t find any—at least not his.

Still, it irked him that Angel had caught on to the letter bomb so quickly. He hoped she’d deliver it or that Luke would come by to pick it up. But then, maybe he’d guessed wrong. Maybe Luke hadn’t contacted his family after all. He’d gone to the funeral, Cade knew that much. Luke had gotten away before Cade could escape the jammed parking lot. Otherwise he’d have taken care of his business right there in Sunset Cove.

What bothered him even more was Angel’s detective friend. Cade’s scowl turned to a smile when the detective caught his gaze. He waved and kept moving at the same speed. Cade hated wasted efforts, and it appeared this letter had been one. Now he had to
find another way to glean the information he needed. If anyone would know how to find Luke Delaney, his sister would. He’d just have to bide his time—something at which he was actually quite good.

He stopped at the main road and thrummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Then, getting his bearings, he turned south toward the resort at which he was staying. The five-star resort, he’d discovered earlier today, belonged to Luke’s twin brothers who had both gone to Florida that morning. Small world. A very small world.

Cade felt the chill of fear slither up his spine. A local police officer had been shot. The very one who had been with Luke on the day of the funeral. An attorney by the name of Rachael Rastovski had contacted the DA in Fort Myers, asking questions about the Penghetti case and Luke’s involvement in it. It hadn’t taken long to link Rastovski with Paul Delaney. And a day later the brothers fly off to Florida.

Coincidence? Hardly. Had they learned something? He hoped for their sake they hadn’t. The Penghetti brothers had eyes everywhere. If the organization got wind of the Delaney boys snooping around in their business, the lads could end up as horse meat in one of their southern packing plants—or worse.

Not that he cared. Cade had enough worries of his own. Besides, he didn’t need the brothers. Angel was his best shot at finding Luke. He just had to figure out the best way to get to her.

TWELVE

A
fter a wonderful dinner of sautéed shrimp and rice and a salad, Callen and Angel cleaned the kitchen, banishing Anna to the living room to rest. The walk had exhausted her, and she’d fallen asleep watching
Antiques Roadshow.

Angel dried the last dish that wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher, hung up the towel, and grabbed a lightweight jacket from the hook near the back door.

Callen had poured them both peach iced teas. “If you get the door, I’ll carry these out.”

Angel pulled open the glass patio door leading to the back deck. Callen set the drinks down and then pulled her into his arms for a searing kiss.

Moments later, he pulled away, his hands moving up and down on her bare arms. “Are you going to be warm enough?”

She smiled, holding up the jacket she’d brought out but hadn’t yet put on. He helped her into it and settled onto the swing. Angel snuggled in beside him, in the crook of his arm.
I could get used to this.

The sun was going down, and as had become their evening ritual, they planned to watch the flaming red ball dip into the sea. This was the first opportunity they’d had to talk, and Angel was anxious to learn what, if anything, Callen’s investigation into the shooting had unearthed.

Callen ruffled her hair when she asked. “Do we really have to talk about work?” His breath fluttered the wisps of hair on her cheek.

No, I’d much rather sit here and kiss you.
“Yes. For now, anyway. Nick told you where Luke had been staying. Did you learn anything?” Wanting Callen’s take first, she didn’t tell him she’d talked to the people after he’d been there. He might tell her to back off, and she didn’t want to do that.

He took a sip of tea and set the glass back on the table. “The license plate turned up a rental car. It had been rented to a Hal Perkins from Cheyenne, Wyoming.”

“That’s where the money order was sent from to pay Nick back.”

“Right. Hal Perkins’s name came up in our search, but it wasn’t Luke. The guy is eighty years old and in a nursing home. The credit card was set up five years ago but has never been used, so there’s no balance.”

“Why was Luke using this guy’s name?” Angel hated thinking her brother could be involved in identity theft, and she found herself making excuses for his behavior. After all, it wasn’t as though Luke had stolen the man’s identity. As Callen said, there was no balance in the account, and the card hadn’t been used.

“He needed credentials,” Callen said. “I’m thinking we’ve hit a dead end. We’ll keep trying. Maybe we’ll get a hit on the photo. In the meantime, we’re trying to track down the shooter. Nick says he didn’t see a car. The guy came out of the woods acting like he was hurt. Nick got out of his car, and the guy started shooting.”

“I’m surprised Nick is still alive.”

“He’s smart. He dropped to the ground and pretended to be dead. The guy came close enough to take a picture, then took off.”

“A picture?”

“That’s one of the reasons we’re thinking it was a hired gun. Took the picture and sent it to his boss to prove he’d done the job.”

Angel felt sick. “Hard to believe anyone could be that cold.”

“Mmm.” Callen pulled her closer. “There are a lot of people out there devoid of a conscience. Killing to them is no different than what stepping on a spider might be to you or me.”

Angel shuddered. She didn’t even like to do that. “I wonder if he realizes Nick is alive?”

“If he does, he’ll try again, and we’ll get him. We have round-the-clock guards posted, and a lot of the guys are volunteering to do it.”

Angel sighed. “Good. Do you think there’s any connection between the shooting and the letter bomb?”

“It’s possible, though we won’t know any real details for a few days. The lab is backed up and weeks behind. We do know there were only two sets of identifiable prints, yours and the mailman’s.”

“We can stop talking shop now,” she said.

“Good.” He kissed her forehead.

As the sky went crazy with color, Angel prayed for Nick and Luke and Peter and Paul. Just before dinner she’d reached Paul via his cell phone. He assured her that he and Peter had no ulterior motives and that they really had gone to Florida to deal with some problems at their resort. Angel just wished she could believe him.

At 10:00 the following morning, Tim called asking Angel and their mother to meet him for lunch at the resort that Peter and Paul owned near Sunset Cove. The place was posh and very spendy. She suspected their meals would be on the house; still, it seemed odd that Tim would want to meet them there. He tended to prefer simpler, less expensive places.

Anna decided it was Tim’s way of taking her mind off her troubles. “He’s like that, you know. Going out of his way. He does too much sometimes.”

Angel nodded, hoping Tim wasn’t planning to talk to Ma about Luke. “Let’s take our swimsuits,” Angel suggested. “After lunch we can go to the day spa and maybe swim.”

Anna chuckled. “You can bring your suit, dear. I’ll lounge by the pool, maybe read. The day spa sounds nice, though. Why don’t we see if Ingrid can work us in for a massage.”

While Ma made the call, Angel went into Luke’s old room and turned on her mother’s computer. Hers had crashed—or rather been
destroyed when vandals had broken into her apartment, wanting revenge for Billy Dean’s death. They blamed her; still did, even though the grand jury had cleared her.

Rather than buy a new machine, she used Anna’s. Angel wasn’t one of those check-your-email-every-day people. Usually the only mail she got was advertisements, which she tried to block, but they came anyway. She rarely gave out her email address, preferring to talk on the phone or face to face. As soon as she heard her mother hang up the phone, Angel went online.

Though Callen seemed to have come to a dead end, Angel decided to dig a bit deeper into the Hal Perkins thing. The night before she’d hardly slept, ruminating over how Luke would have chosen the name of an old man in Wyoming and be carrying around the man’s credit card.

She tried to put herself in Luke’s place. He had gone to pick up the witness and probably found him and the guard dead. Had he run for his life at that point? He’d later called Nick and asked for money, which was wired to Fort Myers and then repaid via a money order from Cheyenne.