Death & the Brewmaster's Widow (20 page)

“Sorry! Sorry. Auctioneer.”

“They
were
drugging me. I stopped taking the pills. Did I hear a kidnapped in there somewhere? And something about everyone thinking I'm dead?”

“Yes, but everything's going to be all right now. We'll call the police and you can come home and it's going to be awesome!”

At this point they'd both forgotten the maid. Wren actually jumped a little when she spoke.

“Well,” she said, “this is inconvenient.” She tossed her stack of towels to the floor, reached in the top of her apron, and came up with a pistol. “Go back in the bedroom and sit down, both of you, or I'll shoot you where you stand.”

_____

The farther downriver they traveled, the more relaxed Gregory got and the more agitated and nervous Alaina became. Death remembered promising Wren that they wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything on a crowded river. He chided himself for overconfidence.

He was on his third bourbon, keeping his hand cupped around the glass to hide the level of alcohol. With no convenient potted plants to dispose of it in, he was having to judge his timing and toss it into the river when they were otherwise occupied. Alaina had drifted toward the stern.

“What are you looking at?” Gregory asked.

“Just watching the water churning out in our wake. When I was in the Caribbean with Andrew a few years ago we went boating at night. Our wake glowed in the dark, blue and green.”

“Bioluminescence,” Gregory said.

“It was very pretty.”

“Mmm. Yes, well, don't fall into the propellers or you won't be pretty anymore.” He looked to Death. “Did you have to take the Missouri State Water Patrol course on boating safety when you were in high school, Mr. Bogart? I remember it well, but I don't know if they still do that.”

Death blinked sleepily, keeping his reaction time slow. The drunker they believed him to be, the greater an advantage his sobriety gave him.

“You mean the one with the pictures of all the dead bodies?”

“Yes, that one. You go into the water at the wrong time or place and the propeller can suck you right in and chop you into fish bait.” Gregory sounded mildly amused by the idea, but Death couldn't decide if it was because that was part of his plan or just because he thought it would be a happy circumstance. Gregory fetched himself another drink, then brought the bottle over and refilled Death's glass.

He had mentioned visiting the location where Randy's ashes had been scattered. That had been at the confluence of the Missouri and the Mississippi, still several miles below them. They were passing through the wetlands and conservation areas north of St. Louis now, only the ever-present Gateway Arch on the horizon betraying the presence of a city nearby.

If Gregory and Alaina's plan involved getting him in the water to drown, the confluence would be the place to do it. Where America's two biggest rivers met, the surface was deceptively calm but the current below was deadly. Also, with parkland bordering the river on both sides, if they chose a time when no other craft was nearby there were less likely to be witnesses. Gregory glanced over at Death and his gaze seemed calculating to the ex-Marine. Death gave him a faint nod and saluted him with his own glass. He had no intention of dying on this river. There was too much waiting for him back on land.

_____

Wren stared. “You're a minion? Huh. I didn't see that coming. Alaina does have a minion after all!”

Maria snorted derisively. “I don't work for that airhead. I report to Dr. Gregory. He knows very well his sister can't be relied on.”

“But he can rely on you?”

“Implicitly.”

“Maria Vasquez, I'm surprised at you,” Randy chided.

“Vasquez?” Wren asked. “As in Elena Vasquez?”

“Maria.”

“Then I'm guessing Elena's your sister-in-law.” Wren said, putting two and two together in her head and coming up with I'm-gonna-kill-this-bitch. “That's where you got the gun, isn't it? Not this gun, the one you lost at the convenience store.”

“Well, aren't you just a little Miss Smarty Pants?”

“I'd say you're pretty clever yourself. Was it your idea? Put on a fake mustache, make the police think they're looking for a man?”

“What are you talking about?” Randy asked. The women ignored him.

“How did you like the mustard?” Wren asked.

“Mustard is a flowering plant, you know. I'll be sure to put some on pretty boy's grave.”

“Over your dead body.”

“You know what?” Maria said, “I'm just going to go ahead and shoot you both. That's the simplest solution to everything. I'll say you broke in here and killed Andrew Grey and then I wrestled the gun away from you and shot you in self-defense.”

“Now, ladies, let's not do anything hasty.”

“Yeah, that's not going to wash,” Wren said derisively. A little bit of her brain was freaking out because—GUN!—but it wasn't the first time she'd had a gun pointed at her and right now she was more angry than she was scared. “The police, the fire department, and the coroner's office all know that we think ‘Andrew' is really
Randy. He turns up dead, the first thing they're going to do is check his fingerprints and DNA to see if we're right. Then the ‘home invasion' becomes a ‘failed attempt to rescue a kidnap victim' and next thing you know, you're going down for two counts of first-degree murder.”

“You're lying.”

“Why do you think I snuck in here? I was trying to get DNA or fingerprints so the police would have enough evidence to start an investigation. See?” Wren pulled a handful of plastic bags from her pocket. “I brought evidence bags. The cop I talked to gave them to me.”

“Right,” Maria said skeptically. “A cop told you to go breaking and entering for evidence.”

“He just didn't want to know how I got it. Missouri's a capitol punishment state, too.” Wren smiled wickedly. “Which arm do you like your lethal injections in?”

“Okay, shut up,” Maria growled. “Just shut up. I need to think. Get in the bedroom, both of you. Now! Or, so help me God, I will shoot, even if I have to hide the bodies.”

Randy got Wren by the shoulder and propelled her ahead of him into the bedroom. Maria slammed the door behind them and they heard the lock click.

They stood for a moment, staring at the closed door.

“She's a genius,” Wren said drily, taking her phone out of her pocket.

Randy rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Who are you again?”

“Oh, right. Sorry. My name's Wren Morgan. I'm Death's girlfriend.”

Randy struck like a snake, knocking the phone out of her hand and catching her completely off guard. The phone sailed across the room and out the window. He pushed her up against the wall and growled in her face, voice suddenly seething with fury. “I'm getting really, really tired of people lying to me! My brother's dead. Who the hell are you?”

_____

“This is a nice boat,” Death commented. His words slurred together just a little and he slumped in his chair.

Gregory's smile was predatory. “Not getting a little bit tipsy there, are you?”

“Please. I'm a Marine. Takes more than one bottle of booze to drink me under the table.”

“Of course.” Gregory's phone rang. “Excuse me, I've got to take this,” he said. “Doctor and all, you know?”

Death saluted him with his glass and watched from beneath lowered lids as the other man moved to the far end of the boat and spoke over his cell, occasionally glancing at Death.

Alaina was very nervous now, fiddling with her glass and her jewelry and refusing to look Death in the eye. He focused on Gregory's mouth, trying to read his lips. He wasn't as good at it as his great-grandmother, Nonna Rogers, had been, but she'd taught him a few things before she died. “… God's sake … she's not … cell phone!”

Death's heart dropped to his stomach.
Crap
! he thought.
Wren
.
Busted
!

_____

“He's not dead!” Wren said.

“He is. Don't lie to me.” Randy's whole body felt tight as a fist, the grief as fresh and as powerful as it had been when he'd first walked into the captain's office and seen the men in Marine uniforms waiting for him. “I may not have all my marbles in the same coffee can right now, but I remember that. That was the first thing I did remember. My brother's dead. He went off to Afghanistan to play hero. He saved two of his men. He went back for the third.”

“He saved him too.”

“He didn't! Their Humvee blew up. It got hit with a mortar. I
remember
that!”

Anger was an easier reaction than sorrow and, under the circumstanc
es, it seemed a more useful reaction too.

“I can explain, but you've got to calm down.”

“Don't tell me to calm down.”

“
Please
. Calm down.”

Slowly, he released her and backed away.

“Randy, Death is alive, I promise you.”

He opened his mouth to protest again because he didn't believe that. He didn't dare. She leaned into him, reaching up one small hand to cover his mouth.

“No, wait! Just listen to me. When you were kidnapped, the Marines hadn't retrieved his body yet. Do you remember that? It took them three days to secure the area. When they did, and they moved in again, they found him and Corporal Barlow alive.”

“How is that even possible? Three days behind enemy lines in a burned-out Humvee?”

“Death got them out before the Humvee got hit and hid them in a cellar. When the Humvee exploded, it collapsed the cellar on top of them, which is probably why they didn't wind up in the hands of the insurgents. Our guys went back looking for them. Semper fi, remember? No man left behind? Death was unconscious by then and nearly dead. It was a British unit that actually found them, and only because Barlow was delirious with fever and singing ‘Coal Miner's Daughter' at the top of his lungs.”

Randy dropped into the nearest chair and leaned forward, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Death's alive? He's
really
alive?”

“Yes. He's really alive.”

He thought about this, wanting to believe it but afraid to.

“But my brother's married. Even if he were alive, he wouldn't have a girlfriend.”

“She left him. She'd been sleeping around while he was overseas and she'd gotten pregnant. I don't like Madeline and I don't get along with her at all, but I do kind of understand where she was coming from.

“When all this happened, she was about three months pregnant. She'd been trying to figure out what to say to Death. He'd been having such a hard time of it, with your parents and your grandparents dying, and now she had to give him even more grief. Then she got word that he'd been killed in action. As horrible as that was, it meant she'd never have to disappoint him, or see him sad and angry again. Two days later, you were dead and he was in a coma in a military hospital in Germany. She cut and ran. She cleaned out their bank account and went to Reno for a quickie divorce.”

“That is just what she'd do. The bitch.”

“Yeah.”

“So how'd you supposedly meet him?”

“Last spring, I got involved in a case he was working on.” She hurried on, anticipating his next question. “He's not in the Corps anymore. His lungs were damaged and he received a medical discharge. He's a private investigator now and sometimes a bounty hunter. He's got an office and an apartment in my hometown, East Bledsoe Ferry, on the other side of the state. And he's mine now. And Whoreticia isn't getting him back, either.”

“So where is he now? Because if my brother were alive and he thought I was in trouble, he'd be here.”

“He's out on the river with Alaina and her brother, getting them out of the house so I could sneak in and look for proof that you were you.”

“Yeah, good job at that.”

“Don't be a smartass.”

“But he's alive? You swear to me he's really alive?”

“
Yes
! I swear.”

Randy jumped up, restless, and paced away from her, circling the room like a caged beast. “We gotta get out of here. I need to see my brother.”

“And he needs to see you. But, in case you haven't noticed, there's this big, locked door in the way.”

He waved a hand at the door and made a rude noise. “It opens out. I'm a fireman. Firemen don't get locked in rooms with doors that open out. The problem is the woman with a gun on the other side. We need to figure out some kind of a weapon.”

“Oh, that,” Wren said. “I got that covered.” She yanked off her necklace and reached into her bra. “I've been just dying to throw rocks at that woman.”

Randy's eyes widened as she fastened the sling to its handle and dropped most of the stones in her pocket, keeping three or four in her fist for quick ammo. “A slingshot,” he breathed. “I haven't touched one of these since the walnut incident when I was five.”

Wren fitted the first stone into the pocket of the sling. “You said you think you can get us out of here?”

He snorted. “Please.”

She took up a position just inside the door, sling at the ready.

Randy took a second to brace himself, then reared back, lifted his right leg, and kicked the door, landing his foot right next to the lock. The wood splintered, the knob and lock busted free and the door slammed open. Sling at the ready, Wren ducked under his arm and led the way out into the hall.

twenty

Wren rushed into the
hall and stopped short. Randy just caught himself from running into her. Maria lay on her back just outside the bedroom, gun loose in her right hand, blinking groggily. “What happened?”

Wren kicked the gun out of the other woman's reach.

“I think you got her with the door. Huh. That's anti-climactic. Dang! I was really looking forward to flinging rocks at somebody.”

Randy laughed shortly. “Yeah, you're my brother's girlfriend all right.” He went over and retrieved the gun, put the safety on, and stuck it in his pocket. Maria sat up, rubbing her head. “You haven't won, you know.”

“Looks like victory to me,” Randy said.

Wren grinned. “Is this the part where you tell us all about the diabolical plan that would have worked if it wasn't for us pesky kids?”

“Joke all you want to,” Maria said, “but your boyfriend's as good as dead right now.”

Wren readied her slingshot again. “What are you talking about?”

“Why do you think they invited him to go boating?”

“Why did they invite him to go boating?” Randy asked, directing his question at Wren.

“Gregory said they wanted to hear about his experiences as a private investigator, but we figured they wanted to pump him for information, to see how much he knows. There was a newspaper story about him investigating your death. They already tried to kill him once, though. He thought it was a coincidence, but I knew it wasn't. Your friend here put on a fake mustache and made it look like he got caught in a convenience store robbery. He disarmed her with a bottle of mustard.”

Maria sneered. “Let's see him disarm the Mississippi.”

Wren shot Randy a worried glance. “He said they wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything on a busy river in broad daylight.”

“All they have to do is get him in the water and wait for him to drown. Gregory's rigged a section of the railing on his boat. Pretty boy leans on it, he'll go right through.”

“That's a stupid plan,” Randy said. “Death swims like a fish.”

“Not anymore.” Wren looked around, frantic. “Wounded warrior, remember? His lungs are damaged. I need a phone.”

“Damn! Right. You had one?”

“It went out the window.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Where's the house phone?”

“I don't know. I've only ever seen people talking on cells that they carry in their pockets.” Wren looked at Maria.

“I don't have one. But if you let me go, I'll call and tell them the game is up. That the police know everything and if they kill him they'll go down for murder.”

Wren hesitated.

“Think about it,” Maria encouraged. “They're the real villains. I'm just a minion. You said it yourself. Let me go and I'll disappear. You'll never see or hear from me again.”

“But how will you call them if you don't have a phone?”

“Fine,” Maria said. “I have a phone. It was in my hand when you attacked me with the door. It should be around here somewhere. But I'm not going to call anybody without some kind of guarantee.”

“If your boss hurts my boyfriend, I'll kick your ass. How's that for a guarantee?”

Wren looked around the hallway, then exclaimed and dived off to the side to retrieve a fancy, new smartphone from under the hall table. She turned it over in her hand as she came back. “Hell.”

The screen was intact but the back had busted and the battery and data card were gone.

“This can't be happening! Death doesn't have time for us to play hide-and-seek with electronics.”

Randy reached up and stabbed a finger at the ceiling and both women jumped as a frantic, high-pitched beeping filled the house.

“Smoke alarm,” he said. “Fancy place like this will have everything hooked to a private security company. The smoke alarm goes off, the company will call the police and the fire department. We should have reinforcements in a couple of minutes.”

_____

“Would you like to drive, Lainey?”

“I don't know,” she hedged.

“Oh, come on,” her brother coaxed. He looked to Death “I'm trying to get her used to taking the helm. She does okay on the quieter parts of the river, but traffic and turbulence tend to fluster her.”

Reluctantly, the small woman crossed to starboard and took her place in the captain's chair. “Do you want to head back toward the dock now?”

“No,” Gregory said. “Let's keep going downriver. I promised Mr. Bogart that we'd show him where his brother's ashes were scattered, remember? That was near the confluence with the Missouri. We're still a couple of miles above there.”

“Don't go out of your way on my account,” Death said.

“It's no trouble,” Gregory assured him. “And I think you should see the place. I think it'll do you good.”

_____

When the call came in for Fire Station 41, the address sent a chill up Captain Cairn's spine. Einstadt Avenue. The last time he'd gone on a call to Einstadt Avenue, nearly a year ago now, he'd come home short a firefighter. That had been in the morning, not the evening, but the weather was identical. With a strong sense of déjà vu, he took his place. The engine led the way out of the station and they raced across town.

The address was a big, brick mansion across the street from the abandoned brewery. There were no hysterical occupants in the yard and no sign of smoke coming from the building, so he figured it was most likely a false alarm. They pulled up in front of the place and he saw a large man in the side yard, doing something to a small tree. Cap sent two of his men around the house to look for signs of fire and went to talk to the gardener.

“Is there a fire?”

He had to tap the larger man's arm to get his attention. The man looked up, puzzled. “I said, is there a fire?”

Frowning, the man reached up and fiddled with his ear. He was turning up a hearing aid, Cap realized. “Sorry. I keep it off so I can't hear my boss. What?”

“We've got a fire alarm going off,” Cap repeated. “Do you know anything about that?”

“No, I don't. I'm not burning anything. The maid probably is, if she's trying to cook. But don't tell her I said that or I'll never hear the end of it.”

Cap started for the house, the gardener trailing behind, but before he reached the door it slammed open and the ghost of his long-lost firefighter barreled out. “Bogie?”

He was thinner than he should have been, his face looked gaunt and pale and his hair was gray, but it was undoubtedly Randy Bogart. Cap heard Rowdy shout and Talia scream and then Bogie grabbed him, frantic and breathless. “Cap, you gotta stop them! They're trying to kill my brother!”

_____

Death's phone rang. He slipped it out of his pocket and lifted it, but before he could answer or see who it was, Gregory stumbled against him. He hit the phone and it flew out of Death's hand and disappeared below the surface of the river.

“Oh, my God! I am so sorry!” the doctor said.

“Damn. Um, can I borrow your phone?” Death asked. He expected the other man to have some excuse as to why he could not. Still, he had to try. The missed call was sending tremors of worry up his spine. He hadn't seen who was calling, but figured it was only important if it was Wren.

“Of course,” Gregory said. He took out his own phone but held onto it. “What's the number?”

Death hesitated, then reluctantly repeated Wren's number and watched while the other man punched it in. Gregory put his phone on speaker. “I'll just hold on to it.” He held the phone out. “No offense, friend, but you're a little tipsy and I don't want this one going in the drink.”

Wren had her phone set to vibrate for the dangerous foray into enemy territory, but Death knew she'd answer it if she could. As it rang and rang and rang, dread settled like lead in his belly.

_____

“No answer,” Cap said, voice grim, keeping his phone to his ear. “Watch your step.”

Wren took the hand he offered and let him help guide her off the dock and into the fire boat. She'd ridden here sitting on Randy's lap, crammed into the middle of 41's fire and rescue truck between Rowdy and the kid who'd taken Randy's place. They'd had the siren going and were traveling at a rate of speed that normally would have terrified her. She'd leaned forward the entire way, as if somehow that would help them to go even faster.

Cops were scouring the Grey house, looking for the missing SD card. Gregory's phone wasn't registered in his name and Maria hadn't known the number, nor even the number of the phone she was using. It was one Gregory had provided, with strict instructions that she wasn't to call anyone on it but him. They couldn't even get her number from one of her friends or relatives and use it to trace his phone.

The fire boat had been waiting for them. Randy was already on board and the paramedics followed her, lugging gear they hoped not to use. “Good luck,” Cap said. “Go get your brother. You call me the second you know something, you hear? And be careful.”

There were two firefighters already on board. As they pulled away, the one who wasn't piloting turned to them.

“The police and water patrol have craft out looking for them, too. According to the registration, Gregory has a 27-foot pontoon called the
Zaca
. Registered to St. Charles.”

“That's where Death went to meet them,” Wren confirmed.

“St. Charles is between the two rivers,” the officer said. “Gregory's yacht club has its main facility on the Missouri and an auxiliary location on the Mississippi. They could be on either river, going upstream or down. The Sheriff's Department has choppers up with searchlights. The problem is, with the sun all the way down now, a lot of the river is in shadow. It'd be awfully easy to miss them, especially if they're somewhere with a lot of trees.”

“Is he trying to be helpful?” Wren asked Randy. “Because this doesn't feel helpful.”

Randy ran a hand across her back, reassuring her. “Just keep an eye out for pontoon boats. They're pretty popular so there are apt to be a lot of them on the water.” He leaned forward and addressed the firefighter who'd been talking before. “You guys got any spare eyes?” The fireman leaned down, fished around in a tool box, and handed back two pair of binoculars, small but powerful.

“Thanks!”

Silently, side by side, Wren and Randy scanned the darkening water.

“I don't understand why he didn't answer his phone,” Wren said finally, barely finding the breath for a whisper as despair clutched at her heart. “He should have answered his phone.”

Randy's voice came back to her, just as soft and pained. “I know.”

_____

This would be poignant, Death thought, if he still believed his brother was dead.

“The ceremony was in the morning,” Gregory said. “It was very impressive. They came in a procession of fire trucks, down to the landing below the Arch where the riverboats dock. Your brother's station, I believe, boarded one of the official fire boats, with his ashes carried in a fireman's helmet. A lot of the other firefighters had people waiting to pick them up in private craft, and by the time they were ready to go, most of the other boats out on the water had joined the fleet, whether out of respect or curiosity.”

“It sounds impressive,” Death agreed.
And ironic, a bastard like Andrew Grey getting a hero's send-off
.

“This is about where they scattered the ashes. A piper played “Taps” on the bagpipes. I've never been really enamored of the bagpipes, but I have to admit that, in that instance, they sounded lovely. Come up here by the railing and you can get a better look.”

Alaina cut the throttle back to idle and let them drift. Death obediently joined James Gregory at the rail. It was a perfect summer evening. The water was wide here, the Big Muddy curving in from the northwest through a vast expanse of wetlands. The sun was down, but the sky was still bright. Venus hung in the west, a silver pendant against the soft, blue-purple twilight. This part of the river was largely empty of watercraft. Only a single speedboat approached, moving fast and leaving a long plume in its wake.

Death was expecting the hand to the small of his back and the push, propelling him up and over. What he wasn't expecting was for the railing he had braced himself against to give way and drop him into the swift, muddy river channel.

_____

It was Randy who spotted the
Zaca
. He pointed it out to them just in time for everyone on the boat to see Gregory give Death a shove and send him flying into the water.

The pilot hit his siren and surged forward, speaking urgently into his radio as he did. He cut his engine when they were close, so as not to imperil the swimmer. Randy kicked off his shoes and hit the water before Wren even realized he was in motion.

On the
Zaca
, Gregory and Alaina were feigning distress, as if they hadn't all seen the doctor pushing Death overboard. Gregory spoke to his sister and she jumped for the helm. A cold, sick feeling settled into Wren's stomach. Death and now Randy were too close to the boat. If Alaina revved the engine, they'd both be sucked in and cut to ribbons. The fire boat captain had seen the danger as well. He had a megaphone out and was commanding Alaina not to touch the throttle. Wren didn't trust the effectiveness of that for a second. She looked around for something to throw and realized she was still clutching her slingshot and a fistful of stones.

_____

The top foot or so of river was as warm as bath water. Death plunged through it quickly and into the cool, murky depth. He'd taken as deep a breath as he was able while he was falling, but that wasn't very deep any more and he was already out of oxygen before natural buoyancy reasserted itself and he began to rise. Currents swirled around him, tugging at him, and the weight of his shoes tried to drag him down.