Dead Wood - By Dani Amore Page 0,75
be doing something.
I went through every room in the house but came up empty. There was no other choice. I left the house and made a beeline for the silver BMW. It was either Memphis’ or the twins’, but I didn’t know which.
I looked inside and saw a small bag in the front passenger seat’s floor space. It didn’t seem to belong there, and I had a hard time believing it belonged to one of the twins.
In fact, I could’ve sworn that I’d seen the bag somewhere. It looked small, neat and organized. It was a brown leather briefcase and I could see the Franklin planner inside.
I had seen the bag before.
It was Molly’s.
I tried the door and found it was locked. At the back of the house was a small flower bed with a border of river rocks. I picked up the biggest rock, went back and smashed in the Beemer’s window.
The alarm went off and I grabbed the bag.
On the way back to my car, I lived up to the other end of my compromise.
I called my sister.
She didn’t like what I had to say.
Forty-three
I wasn’t really in the best shape. I ached from the tazer blast, and a blow one of the twins had laid on my spine. But mostly I was in shock from killing two women. The sight of blood, especially my own, made me very uncomfortable. And right now, I was doing everything I could to not think about what had taken place at Memphis’ farmhouse. I’m sure the cops were there by now, wondering where I was, and scouring the scene, trying to figure out what had happened.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell Ellen where I was going. Suffice to say, if there was any way to reach through the phone line and strangle someone, she would have popped my head off like a champagne cork.
Now, I was just trying to keep it together.
I was early for my rendezvous with Shannon. I parked my car in the Windmill Pointe parking lot and hurried out to the dock. The wind was picking up and the chop had graduated from stiff to severe. Above me, the night sky showed no stars and I could see the black inkiness of serious storm clouds.
The benches normally taken by fisherman going after the perch that hung out close to shore were empty. As were the picnic tables and beach chairs. The whole fucking place was empty except for me.
And maybe Shannon Sparrow.
• • •
A flash of lightning threw a spotlight on the lake. There wasn’t a single boat. Even the buoys looked like they wanted to come in and get out of the wind.
My boat was called Air Fare because it was owned by some pilot who’d had money to burn, but then lost his job. I had a feeling it was due to drinking because when I took ownership of the boat and went down below, the smell of gin was overwhelming. Something told me that the pilot was most likely never far from a martini. A man after my own heart, to be honest. I could use about a baker’s dozen of martinis right now.
It had occurred to me that maybe someone had dropped Shannon off. After all, a woman of her stature usually had a driver. Maybe she’d had someone drop her off, then would call to have someone pick her up. I hadn’t noticed anyone in the parking lot. There weren’t even any cars, other than a black pickup truck and a white Toyota Tercel, both of which I knew belonged to park workers.
The boat looked just like I’d left it. The dark red spinnaker cover was snapped into place. The mooring lines were all taut. The deck was neat and clean.
There was no sign of Shannon.
I turned back toward the parking lot. No sense standing out there waiting for her. I boarded the boat and unlocked the doors to the cabin down below.
The smell was a mixture of marine oil, gasoline, booze and cleaning products.
I flipped on the generator and turned on some of the interior lights, careful to make sure the curtains were drawn. A glimpse into Molly’s briefcase had confirmed the rising feeling. Things were falling into place and this meeting with Shannon was going to prove everything I believed to be right.
At least, that’s what I hoped.
• • •
“John?”
I heard her voice from the pier. I’d been lost in thought but now stepped up onto the deck and called back.