A Killing Tide (25 page)

"What about smells? Aftershave? Was he a smoker?" Michael asked.

"Sweat," Kaz remembered, wrinkling her nose. "His clothes were…damp with it." She closed her eyes.

She'd been helpless—completely helpless—for the first time in her life. She'd rather face down another thirty-foot storm surge than cross paths with that guy again. "I think he was the same guy who was in my house two nights ago. This time, though, I did some damage."

"Of course you did." Lucy grinned. "Any rings on his hands?"

Kaz shook her head. "He had on leather gloves." She folded her hands in front of her in an effort to stop their trembling. "He said I had twenty-four hours to return the money."

Michael swore, walked back to the foot of the bed, and gripped the metal railing. "That's it. You're out of it, from here on." He turned his fierce gaze on Lucy. "I want her in protective custody—that's a formal request. I want someone with her every damn minute until we catch this guy. And I want her in a safe location."

"No," Kaz said, and raised her hand when he would have roared at her. "Don't you see? We don't have any time left. Sykes thinks he's closing in on Gary. I have to get to him before they catch him. We have to find out what he knows."

"He can talk to Lucy. I want you out of it."

"He won't talk to anyone but me," Kaz insisted.

"Tough," Michael said, his voice rough. "I won't have you hurt, not again."

"That's not your call," Kaz said evenly.

"She's right," Lucy said, and Michael swore. "If Gary's willing to talk to anyone, it would be either Chuck or Kaz," Lucy insisted, not looking any happier about it than Michael. "I questioned the junkie we found at the scene of the second murder again, and he's not still talking. I even threw the three strikes prison sentence at him as a threat, and he won't budge. After you two left the mooring basin, I also talked to several of the fishermen at the Redemption.
No one
is talking—they're scared out of their wits. I don't have any suspects, dammit, and Kaz is my only hope of finding some leads I can pursue." She turned back to Kaz. "I assume you're going to contact Chuck."

Kaz nodded.

Michael heaved a sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face. "What's your plan?"

"To drive out to his place and talk to him."

"Won't work," Ivar said, appearing at the edge of the curtains. His long face was somber. "We found Chuck about a half hour ago in your backyard. The EMTs are bringing him in right now, but they aren't optimistic. Whoever got the drop on him beat him almost to death."

~~~~

Chapter 21

Kaz shooed everyone out and pulled on her clothes, gritting her teeth against the pain and dizziness that kept threatening to swamp her. She walked slowly toward the waiting room where Michael was waiting, just as Chuck was being wheeled down the hall on a gurney. She froze, taking in his blood-soaked clothes. One side of his face was purple, and his lips were swollen and split in several places. Splints immobilized his left arm and leg.

When she made a sound of distress, he opened his eyes. He lifted his free hand. "Sorry…"

She rushed over to him, holding his hand in both of hers. "Don't talk."

"…let Gary…down…promised…"

"No," she said softly, tears blurring her eyes. "You
didn't
. He understands."

The emergency room doctor who had sewn her up came around to move her out of the way. "That's all—we've got to get him into surgery.
Now."

But Chuck gripped her arm hard, his expression fierce under the pain. "Get…away from…here."

She leaned closer. "Where's Gary, Chuck? I have to talk to him."

"No
…" He shook his head back and forth, agitated.

The doctor placed a firm hand on her shoulder and pulled her away. "I said, that's
all."

Chuck whispered something, then started mumbling.

"Wait," Kaz said urgently, then bent down, putting her ear next to his mouth. "Say it again, Chuck."

"…boats…" he whispered, then lapsed into unconsciousness.

#

"Shut up. Just…shut up and let me take care of you for a little while." Michael eased Kaz into the passenger side of his car.

He'd almost lost her. It had been so close. From the back seat, Zeke licked the side of her face, whining, and she raised a hand to pet him. Michael leaned across her to fasten her seat belt. "For once, quit trying to handle everything yourself."

"We have to go to Bjorn's," she said.

"No, we don't. We're going back to your house, where we've got a police presence, and you're going to let me put you to bed. You have a head injury, and I can tell you're hurting…" He stopped and shook his head.

She laid a hand over his on the seat belt fastener. "Twenty-four hours," she said quietly. "That's all I've got."

He was so close he could see every small scrape and abrasion the bastard had put on her. Unable to respond without snapping, he straightened, slammed the car door, and walked around to the driver's side. If the guy had simply hit her a little harder…been a little rougher…

"Why Bjorn's?" he asked as he got in.

"I think he might know where Gary is."

"If I take you there,
then
will you come home with me?"

"After we talk to Gary," she insisted.

He wanted to rage at her for taking so many chances. But the blame lay squarely with him—he hadn't been there when she'd needed him.

But he couldn't think about that now—that was exactly what the killer wanted him to do. He wanted Michael to act irrationally and emotionally. To panic, so he lost his edge, so he'd miss something. Starting the car, he put it into gear. "How do I get to Bjorn's?" he asked more calmly.

She gave him the directions, and five minutes later, they were parked in front of Bjorn's house. She climbed stiffly from the car on her own—that damned independence again. She seemed grateful, though, when he put his arm around her to help her up the walkway.

She moved slowly, almost shuffling her feet. She had to be hurting bad. Although they'd filled a prescription for pain medication at the hospital pharmacy, she'd refused to take it, worried, she'd said, that it would keep her from thinking clearly. He'd let her get away with acting tough for another hour or two, but eventually she'd take the pills, even if he had to grind them up in her food.

Bjorn answered the door on the first ring of the doorbell—he'd probably seen them drive up. He took in her injuries and bruises. "What happened?"

"I was attacked," Kaz said. "Chuck's in the hospital—we don't know if he'll pull through."

Bjorn slumped against the doorjamb. "I can't do this anymore." He ran a hand through is hair, then seemed to remember his manners and held open the door, showing them into a large living room cluttered with comfortable chairs and children's toys.

Michael gently eased Kaz into the nearest chair but remained standing. "If you know something," he told Bjorn, "now's the time to tell us."

"You know where Gary is, who's hiding him, don't you?" Kaz asked.

"How do I know you won't arrest him?" Bjorn asked Michael. "He isn't part of this, you know."

Before he could speak, Kaz said, "You can trust Michael." It was the first time, despite all they'd been through, that she'd given him any concrete indication that she believed in him.

Bjorn kept his gaze on Michael. "Gary doesn't want her involved."

"She's already at risk," Michael said. "Her attacker gave her one day, then he's coming back."

Bjorn looked from one to the other of them, squared his shoulders. "Gary's been staying on the boats—mine, Jacobsen's—moving a couple of times a night, then hiding out in the abandoned warehouses on the days we're out on the water."

"Where is he right now? Which boat?" Michael asked.

"Jacobsen's 70-foot trawler, the
Alliance."

"Thank you," Kaz said softly, getting up to walk over and give him a brief hug.

He gently hugged her back, his eyes sad. "I hope I've done the right thing. You'll be careful?" With the last question, he looked to Michael for confirmation.

Michael nodded. "I'll take care of her. She's not getting out of my sight until this is finished, not again." He'd handcuff her to her bed if he had to. Her days of risk-taking were over.

Bjorn saw his determination, heard the emotion in his voice, and frowned. "That thing back in Boston—you let that guy die in that fire?"

Michael raised an eyebrow, but shook his head. "No, but I'll never be able to prove it."

Bjorn studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Just handle this honorably, that's all we ask."

"You have my word."

#

They drove straight to the mooring basin, but the
Alliance
was locked up tight, its portholes dark. When they spied two search teams a couple of blocks down, Michael noted the sick look on Kaz's face.

They spent another forty-five minutes searching other trawlers in the vicinity, as well as the closest warehouses, but there was no sign of Gary. If he
was
nearby, he wouldn't reveal his hiding place, not with the cops so near. Seeming to give up, Kaz allowed Michael to drive her back to the house.

Zeke trailed them into the kitchen, hovering close to Kaz. Michael made her sit in one of the kitchen chairs while he rummaged around in her cupboards, finally coming up with a can of chicken noodle soup. Standing at the stove, he kept an eye on her while he stirred the soup. When she got up to help, he exploded. "For God's sake, just let me do it!"

"It wasn't your fault."

"I should've been here—I shouldn't have let you come back here alone. My gut was screaming at me, and I didn't listen to it." He set the saucepan aside and came over to her, kneeling down to put his arms gently around her. "I can't stand that you've been hurt, that you won't let me handle things for you."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "I'd like nothing better than to check out, but there's no time."

His arms tightened for a minute. "At least let me feed you."

He felt her smile against his shoulder. "Your specialty."

"Yeah."

He served the soup and they ate in silence for a few minutes.

"I should've been paying more attention," she said between spoonfuls. "He must've come in while I was on the phone to the hospital in Portland."

He gave her a curious look and she related what she'd discovered. "So Ken was using the drug money to pay for Bobby's treatments," she concluded. "And I think Gary may have made the anonymous payment." She looked frustrated. "I
have
to get to Gary, but I can't figure out how."

The swelling in her cheek and eye was going down a bit. He got up to add more ice to the cold pack. Then he refilled her soup bowl and placed it back in front of her.

"I want you to take a time-out for the night," he said quietly. "Get a good night's sleep—let your body heal a little." She started to shake her head, and he leaned across the table, taking both of her hands in his. "Just listen to me. I don't think there's anything you can do tonight. You have no way of knowing where Gary is or how to get hold of him. And you need the down time. Hell,
I
need the down time."

"I've got some places I can check—"

"Places you can get to in the dark?"

He watched the emotions flit across her face—the worry, the frustration. And finally, the resignation. "Okay, for a few hours."

He squeezed her hands. "Thank you," he said simply.

#

Kaz hadn't been asleep long when the sound of Zeke's tail rhythmically thumping on the hardwood floor woke her up. As she opened her eyes and tried to move, she realized Michael was in bed with her, and that he was holding her close, both arms wrapped tightly around her. He must've come back upstairs after he'd tucked her into bed, to sleep beside her and protect her. She'd unconsciously curled into him in her sleep, her head resting on his shoulder, her arm on his chest.

She raised her head to peer into the darkness, hoping to identify what had awakened her.

Michael was instantly awake. "What?"

"Someone's in the house, I think," she replied softly.

"Damn straight." The voice came from the bottom of the bed.

They both bolted upright, Kaz moaning at the quick movement Michael reached under his pillow for a gun.

She placed a hand on his arm. "It's Gary."

"Hell of a way to keep my sister safe, Chapman." Gary cursed as he tripped over Zeke. After making sure the curtains were closed, he switched on the lamp on the night stand.

"Are you okay?" Kaz asked him, her eyes squinting in the sudden glare. He looked even worse than he had forty-eight hours ago. His clothes were filthy, and his eyes held the feral look of an animal who knew it was being hunted.

"Seems like I should be the one asking that question. Bjorn told me what happened." He knelt by the side of the bed, taking her chin in his hand and turning the bruised side of her face toward the light. His lips tightened. "Dammit, Kaz, I told you to stay out of this."

She shook her head. "You aren't safe here. You know about Chuck?"

Gary nodded, his expression angry and frustrated. "The hospital has him listed as critical."

Michael had climbed out of bed and was pulling on a sweater over is jeans. "You're well informed for someone on the run," he told Gary in a mild tone.

"I haven't been on the run." He gave Michael a hard look. "You get Kaz out of town,
now
. This mess is about to blow wide open."

#

Kaz made herbal tea and scrounged together a sandwich for Gary. When she entered the living room with the tray, Michael and Gary were talking quietly.

"It's our speculation that the fishermen are running drugs," Michael was saying.

Gary accepted a mug from Kaz and nodded. "Ken figured it out before I did."

"Did he steal drug money to pay for Bobby's treatments?" she asked.

"Yeah, the fool. And he paid the consequences. I tried to talk him into giving the money back, although I wasn't sure it would save his sorry hide. But he'd already used some of it. After the second time they beat him up and threatened to go after his family, he gave the rest of the money to me to put in the locker." He shot an exasperated look at Kaz. "And then you had to go looking for it."

"I figured if you had something they wanted, the locker was the logical place to hide it."

"Yeah, and that analytical mind of yours put you right in the line of fire." He took a bite from his sandwich. "Cutting the lines on the pots was a warning. They'll threaten your life, next."

"They already have," Michael said and told him about the ultimatum she'd been given. "Who else besides Bjorn in the fishing community knows about my background?"

Gary paused from wolfing down the rest of the sandwich to give him a curious look. "Pretty much everyone. Why?"

"Because I think someone's counting on your instinctive distrust of me as a newcomer to slow down the investigation." He shrugged. "And it's not the first time someone I care about has been targeted."

Kaz frowned. She hadn't even considered that angle. Lucy hadn't told her the real source of the rumors about Michael—just that the cops had been talking about him. But Bjorn had clearly known the details of Michael's background; he'd indicated as much when they'd talked to him earlier in the evening.