One Grave Less
didn’t want to admit he had a point.
“You gave a fair theory,” said Gregory. “And it is what we asked for. Like it or not, we must consider it. None of us like the idea of a traitor among us.”
“Where are you staying, Steven?” asked David.
“Thought I might look up some charming B and B. Got any ideas?” he asked.
“You can stay at my apartment,” said David. “I have a guest room.”
“That would be good,” he said. “Thanks. I’ll take you up on it.”
Diane started to make some joke about David’s overly fortified apartment, but she stopped when she saw Garnett coming toward her. He looked grim.
“Diane,” said Chief Garnett, “I’m sorry to disturb your dinner.”
Diane gestured to a chair at a nearby empty table. Garnett grabbed it and sat down between Diane and David. Diane introduced him to Steven and briefly explained that Steven was suffering from the same problems that were plaguing the rest of them.
Then she said, “You look grim. It’s not Simone, is it?”
“No. I’m not even sure it has anything to do with you. It’s just troubling. There was a break-in at your old apartment. The very one you lived in. Someone trashed it, pulled out all the drawers, tore up the cushions, emptied the closets, the kitchen cabinets, the refrigerator. It’s hard to say if anything is missing. Thankfully, the occupants weren’t home. The destruction looks particularly thorough. Izzy is working the scene.”
The first thing Diane thought of was the Interpol warrant on her. It had her old address, not where she lived now with Frank, in his house, but her old apartment, the one that was now trashed.
Diane’s heart thudded against her chest. Star, Frank’s daughter, was at his house . . . alone.
“Would you send a police car to Frank’s?” said Diane. She rose from her seat. “They can get there before we can.”
“You thinking it was meant for you?” said Garnett.
“I was remembering the warrant. It had my old apartment address, not Frank’s house. But whoever is doing this may be educating themselves and may have a short learning curve.”
Garnett’s phone beeped. He looked at the display before he answered it. He listened a moment, his frown deepening.
“Damn it. That was dispatch,” said Garnett. “They are on nine-one-one with Star; she’s holed up in that panic room you built, Frank.”
Chapter 41
Maria had the accelerator all the way to the floor. The tires were skidding on the small rocks and detritus in the road, which was getting narrower by the foot. There was a long drop-off on the right and a high bank to the left. They were on a precipice over a gorge. The road was nothing more than a gravelly ledge along the precipice.
Maria should have chosen the other road. She wasn’t thinking. It was a good road and good roads lead to places, like villages and towns. She was in the middle of nowhere and running out of road. Damn.
Rosetta had fished out the guns from the backpack. Maria put each in a pocket with her right hand as she steered with her left. The gun she had been using was lying beside her on the seat.
“Put the map and the compass in the backpack,” she said. Rosetta obeyed.
She rounded a blind curve going fast and couldn’t see, until it was too late, that she was out of road. She slammed on the brakes, the truck fishtailed, and a wheel dropped over the edge on the right. The vehicle came to a grinding halt, tilted toward the passenger’s side at the edge of the precipice. A wall of rocks was close up against the truck on her left. No egress. Their pursuers were closing behind them. They would be rounding the curve at any moment. Maria grabbed the club she had put under the seat, the one that was her first weapon. She started punching the windshield with all her strength, which, with all the adrenaline pumping through her body, was considerable. A spiderweb crack spread out across the windshield. She hit it again and the windshield collapsed outward. She pushed the cracked sheet of glass out and scraped the club over the bottom of the frame, trying to remove the small pieces.
“Toss those rags from behind the seat over the window frame and climb out.”
Maria shoved the backpack onto the hood.
“Go, go, go. Now!” she said.
Rosetta didn’t hesitate; she scrambled out of the truck onto the hood.
“Take the backpack and get as far from the truck as you can get. I’ll be right behind you.”
Maria climbed out, half sliding on
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