I closed my eyes momentarily, trying to get a handle on the logic. OK, supposing just for a moment that there was any grain of truth in all this. Supposing Keith Pelzner had murdered his wife five years ago. It seemed far-fetched, but then so did being pursued and shot at by an imitation or off-duty cop in an amusement park. So did being followed in broad daylight by a couple of hardcases in a Buick.
“So why has he waited until now to do anything about you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Dunno,” he said, looking up at me but unable to hold my gaze for long. “Maybe it’s ‘cos I wanted to go to Daytona for Spring Break this year. Maybe he thought if I go back up there I might find out what really happened to her.”
Now that really was stretching it.
I shook my head slowly. “I just don’t know, Trey, it sounds a little—”
That was as far as I got. He jumped off the bed like someone had turned up the gas under him. “Oh sure,” he cried. “That’s right, tell me I’m talking weird, just like Dad does whenever I try to talk to him about Mom. Why don’t you tell me I’m delusional, too? Drop a few hints about how maybe I should, like, see a shrink, huh?”
And with that he stormed into the only place he could get away from me – the bathroom – and made sure he slammed the door behind him hard enough to set the wall light fittings jiggling.
I sat there on the bed and put my head in my hands. Of all the training I’d had in the army to prepare me for stress under combat, nothing compared to trying to keep a stroppy teenager under control.
“Jesus, Sean,” I murmured under my breath, “where are you now when I need you?”
I reached behind me and pulled the SIG out of the back of my belt. With automatic movements I dropped the magazine clear and thumbed the rounds out into a little pile in front of me, counting them. I had the full eight, but no spare magazine. I hadn’t expected Sean to carry a gun that wasn’t fully loaded but if people were going to keep shooting at me it was nice to be sure, even so.
The sight of the pistol and the copper-nosed bullets brought back all the rush of emotion I’d felt at the house. I had to take a couple of deep breaths and clamp down hard on it, scowling at my reflection in the mirror on the wall behind the TV.
Sean might still be OK, I told myself. After all, he had said he was going to see Gerri Raybourn this morning to find out what the real story was with Keith Pelzner. Maybe it was Keith himself who’d intercepted him. Maybe Sean had never got there. If he had, I tried hard to ignore the fact that he had promised to go armed and had clearly not done so. There could be any number of reasons he’d left his gun behind other than the one that was uppermost in my mind.
And there was one way to find out.
I quickly refilled the magazine and tucked the gun away again out of sight, then dug the mobile phone out of my pocket. I didn’t know the direct line number for Gerri Raybourn but, along with the obligatory Gideon bible, there was a Bell South Yellow Pages in the drawer by the bed. I looked up the number for the software company Keith worked for and dialled.
As I waited for the phone to be picked up I checked my watch. It was well before five, but for a while I feared they’d already left for the afternoon.
Eventually the phone was answered by a girl who spoke so fast I could hardly tell what she said. I gave her my name anyway and asked to be put through to Gerri’s office.
She put me on hold and for what seemed like a long time I listened to the quick-fire presentation of the local commercial radio station. Then the lady herself came on the line.
“Charlie!” she yelled, her voice strident enough to make me jerk the mobile away from my ear. “What the fuck are you playing at?”
Well that answered the question of whether she’d been informed about the bloody battle at the park, I suppose. Not quite the face of concern I’d been hoping for, though.
“Well thanks a bundle, Gerri,” I bit back, hackles rising defensively. “That kind of attitude’s going to get us a long way, isn’t it?”
For a moment there was silence and I had visions of her building up to a real explosion. But when she spoke again her voice had that reined-in quality which told me she’d been using the time to get a grip on her temper. “OK, OK, I’m sorry,” she ground out, surprising me with the apology. “Just let me talk to Trey.”
I glanced at the bathroom door, still firmly shut. “He’s not available to come to the phone right now,” I said dryly.
I heard Gerri’s breath hiss out in annoyance. “Godammit, Charlie, he’s just a kid. I need to know he’s all right, you understand me? I can’t help you unless I know he’s OK.”
Oh great, so you don’t give a shit if I get killed in the process? The thought was fully formed before it dawned on me that was exactly what I was being paid for. I suppose it was the realisation of my own expendability that allowed more sarcasm to creep into my voice than it should have done.
“You’ll just have to trust me when I tell you that he’s unharmed,” I replied. “And I am doing my best to keep him that way.”
“OK, OK.” Another long pause, then the words came out in a rush. “Look I’m here to help. I really appreciate that you’ve contacted me, but I need for you to tell me what it is you want me to do.”
“Want?” Her question was so banal I had to wrestle a sudden splurge of temper. Jesus, and I thought these people were supposed to be professionals. “What I want you to do,” I snapped, “is help me find a way out of this mess.”
“OK, that’s good,” she said, sounding distracted now, as though she was also trying to carry on a second conversation at her end of the line and was only managing to give me half her attention. Either she wasn’t taking this seriously or she was so far out of her depth she needed a wetsuit. “That’s good,” she repeated. “We can help you. Are you under threat at this time?”
“Hang on.” I moved over to the curtain and peered down onto the parking area. Two cars that had been there when we’d arrived had now gone, but no new vehicles had taken their place. In particular, there were no beige Buicks. “No,” I said. “I don’t think so.”
“OK Charlie, that’s good. Now, just tell us where you are and we can sort this whole thing out.”
There was something about that slightly agitated tone that was setting all my instincts on edge like the fur down a dog’s spine. “What about Sean?”
That got an immediate reaction. “Jesus Charlie, there’s nothing I can do—” She stopped abruptly, obviously realising what I was asking and that she hadn’t picked the most diplomatic manner of breaking the bad news.
“Look, I’m real sorry about Sean, Charlie, but you’re gonna have to let him go,” she said, making a fresh start and hiding the fact she didn’t give a damn behind the quick apology, her voice oozing with insincere concern. “Let’s just concentrate on getting you and Trey to safety, OK? We can work out the details later. Just tell us where you are and let us come get you.”
It was my turn to go quiet, fighting not to let the tears come. For a moment there was nothing but the occasional click of static on the line, then her patience broke. “Come on, Charlie, cut me some slack, huh?” she bit out. “I’m putting my neck on the line for you here.”
“All right,” I said and gave her the name of the motel and a rough idea of its location, trying to ignore the mental klaxon that was blaring in the back of my skull.
But not completely. When Gerri demanded the room number I squinted through the gap in the curtain at the block opposite, but the room numbers themselves were small and I couldn’t quite read them clearly at this distance. The room directly across from ours was in darkness, unoccupied. On impulse, I directed her there. “Right-hand block, left-hand end room, first floor,” I said.