Fear Familiar Bundle (142 page)

Daniel found the well-kept lawn and parked beneath an enormous live oak. The old Victorian house sported a fresh coat of pale yellow paint and a new tin roof. It was picture-perfect, right down to the pansies blooming in the flower beds and the bare pecan limbs of a small orchard in the backyard.

"Looks like he had a solid family life," Daniel said. "Wonder what went wrong."

Sarah tried to imagine. It was impossible for her to get beyond the young man who'd been so polite and so easygoing. Was he really the one who'd lied about her father? "It's tough to be married to a cop," she said. "I heard my mother say it often enough."

"Erratic hours," Daniel admitted.

"And more. Let's talk with him and see what he says." She could feel her heart pounding. Now that she was on the scene, she didn't want to be there. She was stepping through a door to the past that could change her forever.

"Sarah?" Daniel stood at her car door, waiting.

"I'm ready." She gave Familiar a pat, but he jumped out before she could stop him. "Familiar." She hurried across the lawn after him with Daniel one step behind her. "Familiar!" The cat was up the steps and nudging the front door open.

Damn! He was inside the house.

"Familiar." Sarah hesitated on the steps. She didn't want to go bursting into someone's house, but she darn sure didn't want Graham Estis to discover a stray cat had invaded his home. He might think Familiar was dangerous and hurt him.

"Sarah!" Daniel's hand on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks. "Wait a minute. Let's knock."

"He might hurt the cat."

"He might hurt you if you go bursting into his house." Daniel's fingers tightened. "Use that pretty head of yours."

She knew he was right and quit trying to pull away from him. She knocked briskly against the wood of the already open door and called his name. "Graham Estis, it's an old friend of yours. Graham?"

The old house was neatly kept. She could see the polished wood of the hall and the mahogany table beneath an antique mirror. A beautiful arrangement of silk flowers graced the table, adding the sense of a woman's touch to the room.

"Graham?" Sarah felt her anxiety notch even higher. Where was he? And where was that cat?

"I'm going in," Sarah said suddenly. She pushed the door open wide. Daniel grabbed for her but missed.

He was almost inside the house when he heard the sound of tires screaming as a black sedan whipped around the corner and headed out of the dead-end street. Sarah, only two feet inside the door, turned back to see what the commotion was about.

"That's the car from in front of the beauty shop." Sarah knew it wasn't possible, yet she recognized the car.

"Are you sure?" Daniel dashed out to the street to see if he could get a tag number.

"I'm positive." Sarah walked to the edge of the porch and waited for him. "I'm absolutely positive."

"There are a million black and dark blue cars." His voice was cautious.

"But that car was the same one. There was that red dirt on it, and a Mississippi tag. It's that strange blue tag. I noticed it several times in front of the beauty parlor."

"I didn't get the number."

"But it was Mississippi, right?"

"I didn't make it positively, but if it wasn't Mississippi, it was close." Daniel didn't want to admit any of this. If that car had followed them from Washington…But that was impossible. They'd flown. And without telling anyone. They'd even used assumed names. And since they knew Sarah's telephone was tapped, they'd carefully avoided using it for any important calls. Daniel's mind hadn't fully turned the events inside and out when a tragic thought struck him.

"Damn!" He ran up the steps and inside the house, not even bothering to pretend to wait for permission from the owner.

"Daniel, what is it?" Sarah's heart lurched. She recognized that look on his face. It meant trouble.

"The phone at Idlewild." He slammed his fist into the wall of the hallway. "Estis, are you here?" His voice was angry, worried.

"What about the phone?" Sarah followed him into the house.

"That telephone man. I should have trusted my instincts. He wasn't real." His fist hit the wall again. "Damn! I should have seen it. I should have known." He turned to Sarah. "You spoke with your mother about Graham Estis that day as soon as the phone was repaired."

A chill as cold as the bitterest winter ran through Sarah. She knew then what they would find in the neat Victorian house with the tin roof.

"Graham? Familiar?"

The black cat appeared at the end of the hallway. He sat down as if he waited for them. When Sarah tried to enter the room, he grabbed her foot with his claws.

"Wait here," Daniel said. Before she could protest, he pushed into the room and closed the door behind him. Graham Estis was in bed. The bullet wound was small, a professional job, and completely effective. Just to be on the safe side, Daniel went to him. A chill had already settled over the body. With great care, Daniel carefully removed any trace of his touch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he turned from the bed.

"Is he…?" Sarah stood in the doorway. She'd pushed the door open, but the sight of the body in the bed had stopped her cold.

"Dead." Daniel pulled her against his chest and held her as the first wave of anger and sorrow ran through her.

"It's my fault," she said. "I said his name. I gave it away."

Daniel held her tightly. "Sarah, they wouldn't have killed him unless he knew something. Something important." He shook her lightly to stop her angry tears. "You didn't kill him. He did that to himself years ago, when he became a part of whatever it was that destroyed your father."

Sarah forced herself to calm down. She had to think. Daniel was admitting that he believed there had been some conspiracy in years past, a plan to ruin her father. And he believed Graham Estis had been part of it.

"A good agent never believes in coincidence," Daniel said as he moved her toward the front door. "Familiar?" He looked back to find the cat was right behind him. "We have to get out of here, erasing every trace that we were at this house." As he spoke, he took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the bedroom and front doorknobs. "We didn't touch anything else."

He guided her down the steps, glancing at the neighboring houses to see if anyone had noticed them. "Don't cry," he said softly to her. "We can't make any kind of scene. Don't cry." He put her in the passenger seat, and Familiar hopped in with her.

Walking around the car, Daniel looked up and down the street. No one was about, for the moment. There had been no need to put a tail on them. Someone who knew every move they intended to make was already in Mississippi. Waiting to see if they'd come. Watching to see if Daniel and Sarah were on the right path.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Sarah, and possibly her mother, were in serious danger.

Daniel got behind the wheel. He said nothing to Sarah until they were coasting over the Biloxi Bay bridge and reentering the town of Biloxi. "Where does your mother live?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Sarah heard the fear that lay beneath his question. She gave the address only a block from the beach. "Hurry, Daniel," she whispered. "Please hurry."

T
HINGS HAVE GONE
from bad to worse here. I don't know who snared me from behind and threw me in the closet at Lucinda Watts's estate. Even though I'd been knocked on the head— a most insulting attack against an agent of the First Cat— I heard them rattling around in the oven. Since Dolly wouldn't let me near the pork chops for a sniff, I had to take matters into my own hands on a hunch. I know someone tampered with those chops. As it was, I bet my lovely black hide on my intuition.

But I don't have a clue as to who it was!

Another troubling thing is Lucinda. Her attack on Sarah was vicious, but very calculated. It was almost as if she'd planned this entire debacle. Except she didn't count on me to make such a fiasco of the meal. I had the distinct impression that maybe she wanted someone to eat that bad meat.

I know, I could be prejudiced by the fact that she wanted to have me shot, or failing that, to have slices of my brain tissue probed under a microscope. That tends to make even the most docile feline a little aggressive.

I've had this feeling since we started this trip that someone was watching us. I could never put my paw on it exactly. There was a car behind us coming out of the airport. I'm positive. But they passed us. Headed right over here to murder Graham Estis, I'll bet.

I know we need to beat it from here before the cops arrive and charge Dolly and Bureau Boy with murder, but I sure would like a little more time to look around this place.

There are some awfully handsome antiques here. These things cost big bucks. Eleanor has a few of those posh magazines for interior decorating lying around the house. There's been a significant number of the pages turned to miniature beds and miniature furniture. I get the impression that there may be an addition to the Curry family in the future, but they aren't telling me— yet. And I'm keeping my kitty claws crossed that this interest in baby things is a passing trend. Nonetheless, I've noticed a few of the prices for those pieces, and it's enough to make a cat's hair stand straight on end. Yikes! Ten grand for a baby bed. Right! That would outfit an orphanage.

But there were several pieces in the Estis house that looked to be expensive. I'm wondering how a cop made that kind of purchase. Family inheritance, possibly. Not from the wife's side, though, or she wouldn't have driven off and left them.

There's plenty here to look into. Plenty. But Mora is the key concern right now. I can see by Dolly's pretty face that she's terrified. Bureau Boy isn't exactly light of heart, either. This traffic isn't helping matters. It just goes to show that just because people have two hands and two legs, they aren't qualified to drive. I know dogs who could do a better job of operating a vehicle than some of the people on this road, and I don't believe dogs have a lot of brain power.

Here we are, pulling into the yard. The place looks okay. No signs of a struggle. But there wasn't a struggle at Graham Estis's house, either.

Wait! What's that out by that azalea bush? Oh, holy gizzards, it's a woman lying out in the yard. Judging by Dolly's face, it must be her mother.

"Mom!" Sarah was out of the car before Daniel could even stop it. Leaves crunched beneath her feet as she ran the fifty yards to the still form that was sprawled across the grass. "Mom!" Sarah heard her voice break.

As she reached the body, she felt strong hands pull her back. "Let me," Daniel insisted. Pushing Sarah aside, he knelt beside Mora Covington's pale form. Practiced hands felt for a pulse at her neck, and he gave a grim sound of encouragement. "She's alive."

"Let's get her in the house!"

"Not so fast," Daniel said, examining Mora for injuries and broken bones. "Get a blanket. Get several blankets," he ordered Sarah. Very gently, he pulled at the bottom of Mora Covington's eye. The pale color of the tissue indicated shock. "Call an ambulance!" he called after Sarah.

Mora was cold, too cold, and he chafed her hands and legs as he waited for Sarah to return. When he heard the door slam, he looked up to see her running toward him, her face obscured by at least five blankets.

"What happened?" Sarah dropped down on the opposite side of Mora and began to help Daniel pile on the blankets.

"Shock, at least that much I can tell. Why, I don't know." Daniel's voice was terse with concern.

Sarah looked down at her mother and felt the tears threaten to destroy her self-control. Bitterly she fought them back. Mimicking Daniel's gestures, she took her mother's hand and began to warm it with brisk movements.

"She doesn't seem to be hurt," Daniel said. He was trying to find anything— anything with a shred of truth in it— to give Sarah to cling to. He could see the anguish in her face. If only they'd come to Mora's house the night before. If only they'd somehow warned her. If only…the two worst words in the English language.

"Listen." Sarah cocked her head to the distant sound of a siren. "It's the rescue unit." She spoke with a strange surety. "In small towns, you can tell the different sirens," she said, grasping at any bit of trivia to keep talking, to keep from breaking down. "That's the rescue squad, and it's coming this way. That's who I called. They'll be here in just a moment." She blinked rapidly. "In just a moment, Mom. Just hang on."

"She's stable," Daniel assured her, knowing that his words would be of little comfort. "She's going to be fine, Sarah, just fine. Really."

"What happened?" Sarah's terrible grief made the question sound even angrier than she was.

"We don't know." Daniel was gentle. "She could have been walking to the neighbor's to borrow a cup of sugar."

"Right." The one word cut across Daniel's gentle voice. "So where's her cup? Where's the sugar? Don't you think it's more likely that someone came up here, tried to get into her house, and she was running for help before she was frightened nearly to death?"

That was exactly what Daniel suspected, but he had no proof and he didn't needlessly want to scare Sarah. Whoever had killed Graham Estis had more than likely come straight over to Mora Covington's house with the intention of either killing her or frightening her into total submission. But what did Mora have to be frightened about? Cal was already dead, his reputation ruined.

"Daniel, you think someone was trying to hurt Mom, don't you?"

Daniel looked up into Sarah's eyes. She was angry, and she was afraid, but she was also thinking. Her intelligence and spirit made him want to reach out to her, to tell her that everything was going to be okay, that the bad guys were going to suffer for what they'd done. Trouble was, he wasn't certain who the bad guys were anymore.

"I think she was frightened."

"By the men who killed Graham?"