Love is Murder (43 page)

Because of his P.I. license and RCK connections, Sean could go deep. Because of his computer skills, he could do it faster than most. “Patricia Annette Glover, thirty-two, born in Providence, Rhode Island,” he said. “Received an AA from a community college. Joined the Army Reserves when she was eighteen. She went through the police academy and worked for Boston Police Department for seven years, then her Reserves unit was called up for service in Iraq. She volunteered for two more tours. Was honorably discharged three years ago.”

“And went back to Boston P.D.?”

“Newton Police Department, not far from Boston.”

“Big city to small city.” Lucy wondered why the switch. “I don’t suppose you can access her records?”

Sean raised an eyebrow. “Legally? No. But it wouldn’t be difficult—”

Lucy shook her head rapidly. “Please don’t.”

He laughed. “You’re so much fun to tease.”

“What can you
legally
get on her?”

“She and our man Ted lived together for a year. And he moved out fourteen months ago like he said. Here’s her photo—very pretty.”

Lucy examined the image of the sandy blonde—Patty was attractive at first glance, but her smile was forced and didn’t reach her eyes. The picture was taken at a police function, though not everyone was in uniform. While the rest of the group were close together, hands on the arms or shoulders of their colleagues, Patty was distinctly separated, an aura of loneliness surrounding her.

Lucy made up the bed to look like two people were sleeping close together. She eyed her handiwork. In the dark, it would pass.

“Glover has clean credit, pays her bills on time, and stays under the radar. If I had just two days, I could have my brother look at her military record through his contacts—getting it through proper channels would take forever.” Sean put his computer to sleep and turned off all the lights. Streetlights illuminated the room just enough to make out shapes and shadows. “On the surface, they’re all clean. Even Ted and Wendy’s social networking is minimal.”

Lucy stood by the front window—the two side windows were too narrow for entry—and Sean had the cottage door covered. They hadn’t seen any sign of Ted’s ex-girlfriend, but now that the lights were off, they expected if she was going to show, it would be before dawn. Much easier to attack when your prey was asleep.

“This isn’t the romantic getaway I’d planned,” Sean said.

“We’ll do it again.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute. “You’re leaving in a few days. You’ll be wrapped up in training.”

“I’ll still have twenty-four hours off every weekend. Saturday night, I’m yours.”

He grinned. “I’m holding you to that, princess.”

“They say absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Lucy said, “but I already know I’ll miss you.” She’d been preparing for her FBI training for what seemed like years—everything she’d done since college had been aimed toward this moment. Now, she had something more she cared about, someone she loved, that equaled her passion for her career. And, maybe, if she allowed herself to feel deeply, surpassed it.

“How does love turn so wrong?” Lucy asked.

“Wrong? There’s nothing wrong with the way we feel—oh. You’re thinking about Ted and Patty.”

“I mean, I understand the psychology of stalkers. How they are created, their obsessive need. That it’s about control and fear and the inability to allow another to have freedom. The excessive unwarranted jealousy, the doubt, the lack of self-worth, as if all that they are is because of someone else. But when is the switch flipped? What’s the trigger? What makes them want to kill someone they profess to love?”

“Because it’s not love and it never was,” Sean said. “Love is letting go, confident your lover will return. Love is helping make your partner the best that they can be.”

“You do that for me,” Lucy whispered.

“It goes both ways. That’s why we work. Never forget that, Luce.”

They remained silent, focused on the sounds outside, waiting.

Sean broke the silence thirty minutes later and said, “We still need a real vacation.”

“I get four days off at Thanksgiving.”

“Those days are mine.”

“It’ll be in San Diego. My parents will shoot me if I don’t go home this year. But between my parents and brothers and sisters, we won’t have much time alone.”

“We’ll find the time. Provided no one we know has a psycho ex-girlfriend.”

Lucy almost laughed. She looked at her watch. It was well after midnight; they’d been here over three hours. She called her cell phone, which they’d given to Ted. No answer. “I can’t reach Ted.”

“Dammit! I should have stayed with them. Let’s go.”

* * *

Under a broken streetlight, Patty Glover sat on a bench and watched the bed-and-breakfast for three hours. The night was still warm, but a light breeze off the bay cooled her.

She wore all black, her newly darkened hair pulled sharply back from her face, the faint hint of dye surrounding her.

Ted thought he could reject her. He thought he could exchange her for a cuter, less-damaged model.

She’d spent three years of her life with Ted. From the first moment she saw him, she knew he was the only one for her.

She’d come off active duty broken. She’d thought she’d hardened her heart and put the war behind her, but around every corner she saw the dead and dying. Until Ted smiled at her the morning of May 3—three years and three months ago—when she had the gun in her pocket, a fraction of a second from putting it to her chin and pulling the trigger.

“You look like you lost your best friend,” he had said. Then he smiled. His smile melted her heart.

“It’s been a rough couple months.” The gun weighed heavy in her grip.

“I’m Ted Odell. I started working at Boston College last week.”

“You’re a teacher?”

He laughed, and that’s when she fell in love. “I’m an accountant.”

“Patty Glover—I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Maybe you just need someone to talk it through. How about coffee?”

That day, Ted saved her life.

She’d clung to Ted ever since, knowing when he was drifting away, knowing her need was driving him away. And then he left…but she couldn’t let him go. The thought of another woman having Ted’s heart, his smile, his optimism—it killed Patty deep inside.

Did they actually think she’d fall for their trick? Did they actually think she was that
stupid?
She’d survived three tours of duty in Iraq, alternating periods of intense boredom with intense action. Her best friend died in her arms. Her commander had his head blown off only inches from hers. She could still taste his blood. It could have been her.

She blinked, and for a split second she forgot where she was. She looked around, her hand in her pocket, clutching the gun.

Cape Cod. Ted. Deceiving her, again.

The lights were off in the bed-and-breakfast, had been for some time, but Patty waited another few minutes before she rose from the bench and disappeared into the house.

She was dead without Ted, and so he would be, as well.

* * *

On the short drive to their bed-and-breakfast, Lucy called the local police. She hung up. “I don’t know if they took me seriously after I told them no lights, no sirens. They estimate five to seven minutes.”

Sean stopped the rental car around the corner, checked his gun and holstered it. “We can’t wait,” Sean said.

Sean led the way through the shadows toward the B and B, Lucy right behind him. They unlocked the front door and quietly went upstairs to where their room was located in the back. He motioned for Lucy to turn the knob while he trained his gun on the door.

It was unlocked. On three, she pushed open the door.

Sean came in high while Lucy moved aside. He scanned the room, saw no immediate threat. A body lay motionless on the floor. Wendy.

Sean turned on the lights and searched the room while Lucy checked Wendy’s pulse and injuries. “She’s alive,” Lucy said. “She hit her head—there’s some blood, but her pulse is strong and steady.”

“Coldcocked, most likely. Glover probably threatened to kill her if Ted didn’t go with her.” Standard tactic since Wendy wasn’t Patty’s primary target.

Lucy gently shook Wendy. “Wendy, it’s Lucy Kincaid. Wake up.”

Wendy stirred, moaning.

“Wendy,” Lucy said, “where did Patty take Ted?”

“I—I don’t know.”

Lucy helped her into a chair and asked, “Did Patty say anything?”

“It happened so fast!” Wendy began to shake and Sean tossed Lucy a blanket, which she wrapped around the traumatized woman. “She had a gun! Please, don’t let her kill him.”

Sean glanced around. “Where’s Lucy’s phone?”

Wendy blinked. “I—I don’t know.”

Sean pulled out his cell phone and thumbed in his code. “Got her, the bitch.” The phone was only two blocks away, near the harbor. He woke the B and B owner and told him to call for an ambulance and tell the police where they were headed, then he and Lucy left.

It was faster to run to the beach than backtrack to the car. When they arrived, Patty was maneuvering a small motorboat away from the harbor. Very quickly she disappeared with Ted into the moonless night.

Sean made a beeline to a speedboat docked at the end. “I’m just going to borrow it,” he told Lucy as he hot-wired the boat in half a minute, pleased he hadn’t lost his touch. “I can get to her in three minutes, but she’ll hear us.” He turned on the radar and adjusted his course to follow.

“I don’t see how we have a choice.”

“Luce, I’ll admit—I’m at a loss. If she’s suicidal, threats aren’t going to stop her.”

“We’re going to have to wing it.”

“There’s a spotlight on the front of the boat.” He pointed to the switch on the dash. “She’ll be momentarily blinded when I flip it on.”

“She’s an army private you said, right?”

“You have a plan?”

“I think we can momentarily confuse her. Soldiers are used to taking orders. Can you be Sergeant Rogan for five minutes?”

“I know what you want.” Sean gripped her hand. “A distraction.”

“Exactly. As soon as you’re close enough, I’ll slip into the water. Turn on the light and talk to her. I’ll swim over to the boat and—”

Sean shook his head. “Hell, no. I’ll swim—”

“She’ll be more inclined to take orders from a male officer, and I’m a better swimmer than you.” The latter was true, but Sean didn’t relish the idea of Lucy in the middle of the bay with a psycho stalker ready to commit murder-suicide. “The waters are calm tonight,” she continued. “And I’ll have a life vest.” She was already pulling it on. “When I get to the boat, if her back is to Ted I’ll signal him to jump.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Plan B.”

“Which is?”

“I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

Sean hated the idea, but he didn’t have a better one, and they were out of time. “Don’t die on me tonight, princess.” He kissed her.

“Not tonight.”

He glanced at the radar; the other boat was slowing down. When he was thirty feet away, he slowed the speedboat and nodded to Lucy. She slipped silently into the dark water.

He turned the spotlight on at its brightest setting and picked up the microphone.

“Private Glover!” he commanded in an authoritarian voice. He’d learned well from his brothers.

Patty was sitting in the chair at the wheel. Ted was handcuffed at the stern. They both turned toward the light. Patty held one hand to her eyes and raised her gun hand.

“Glover!” Sean said, the mic making his voice even more powerful. “Stand down, soldier! That’s an order!”

Lucy swam just outside the glow of the spotlight. Sean hoped Patty couldn’t see her.

“Go away!” Glover shouted, her voice small across the distance. Sean was inching closer; the other boat was at a full stop.

“You don’t want to hurt a civilian,” Sean said.

Glover raised her gun and fired at the spotlight; the shot dinged the metal framing. She fired again and the light went out.

Now Sean was in the dark. He couldn’t see Lucy or the other boat.

Glover yelled at Ted, her voice alternately angry and desperate. “Why did you leave me? You saved my life! I need you. It hurts so much—I need you.”

“Patty—I’m sorry,” Ted said, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”

Frantic to find another distraction, Sean searched the captain’s box and picked up a flashlight—not as strong as the spotlight, but it would have to suffice.

He waited just a few seconds until he thought Lucy would be in position.

He turned on the flashlight. He was much closer now, only fifteen feet away, and was pretty certain Glover could see him. He had the flashlight in his left fist so he could steady his gun hand on his wrist. He shined the light directly into Glover’s eyes. She put her arm up and aimed at him, but before she fired Ted turned his head to the starboard side. She followed his gaze. Sean couldn’t see Lucy, but when Glover turned her gun rapidly toward the water and pressed the trigger, Sean fired three times in rapid succession.

Glover only got off that one shot. Her body jerked as each bullet hit. She stumbled backward, then slumped to the floor.

Sean steered his boat to the edge of the smaller craft. “Lucy!” he called. He couldn’t tell if Glover’s bullet had gone wild or been spot-on. He didn’t see Lucy.

Fear warred with rage. Losing Lucy was not an option. He wouldn’t survive it. She was everything to him.

Pushing back his rising panic, he shone the flashlight in the water next to Glover’s boat. At first, he didn’t see anything. Then Lucy broke the surface, taking in a deep breath. Relief flooded his body.

“Clear!” he called to her. Lucy pulled herself up into the other boat. She kicked Glover’s gun away, then checked for a pulse. She shook her head and covered the body with a tarp.

Sean tethered the boats together, then boarded and assessed Ted. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth, but otherwise appeared unharmed.

“Oh, God, Wendy?” Ted’s eyes were frantic.

Sean picked the lock on the handcuffs. “Wendy’s okay. Can you get yourself into the other boat?”