This was a meeting where he took no chances.
Peter got out of the sedan and locked it. He made sure that no one else was nearby. The night was dark inside the trees, but pale moonlight shined on the water not even a hundred yards away. He could see silhouettes of campers dotting the woods, and he smelled the lingering smoke of fires. It was after midnight now, and he didn’t think anyone would disturb them. He tramped across the soft ground, conscious that he was leaving footprints.
He found the RV where the man said it would be, in one of the campsites closest to the bay. A beige Buick was parked beside it. Peter climbed the steps of the RV and rapped his knuckles on the door.
Seconds later, the door opened. The smoke of a cigar drifted into a cloud outside.
“Pete,” Adam Halka said. “Glad you could make it, man. Come on in.”
The interior of the camper was humid and dank. None of the windows were open. Peter stood in the narrow corridor as Halka closed the door.
“Have a seat. You want a drink?”
“I won’t be staying long,” Peter replied.
The motel owner flopped down on a vinyl sofa and popped a can of Budweiser. He put his feet up. “Long time, huh, Pete?”
“What do you want, Adam? Why am I here?”
“I thought we should talk. It’s been years since you and I talked.”
“We never talked. We weren’t friends. You said on the phone that this was important.”
Halka shrugged. “Yeah, I get it, you don’t like to slum it with the poor people. You’re not part of the RV crowd. I usually stay at the motel, but during the summer, it’s nice to get away and hang out by the water. Of course, your idea of a getaway is probably a private island somewhere, right? Must be nice.”
Peter said nothing. He waited, because he knew Halka had to be leading up to something.
“Do you ever miss the old days?” the man asked. “High school? Summer parties? Those were wild times, huh? Lots of booze. Drugs. Sex.”
“I don’t recall partying with you, Adam. We played some baseball together in school. That’s it.”
“Oh, you may not have seen me at the parties, but I was there. I saw you. Devin, too.”
“What’s your point?” Peter asked.
Halka swigged his beer. “The point is, the police came to my motel today. They were asking about Ned Baer. You know, he stayed at my place that summer when he was in town.”
“So what?”
“Ned heard I was part of the scene back then, so he asked me what I remembered from the party days. He wanted to know if I saw Devin with any girls. Whether I remembered any names.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him no. Said that was way too long ago and my brain was fried. But the fact is, I saw Devin with lots of girls. I can’t remember a party where he wasn’t with a girl. More than one, usually. But that wasn’t any of Neddy’s business, was it? We hometown boys have to stick up for one another.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I figured you should know that I’m able to keep my mouth shut. And also that I have a pretty good memory for details.”
Peter’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning the police are real interested in Ned Baer again, now that they know somebody killed him. They were asking me if Ned got any visitors while he was staying at my place. I said I didn’t remember anybody. I didn’t mention that I saw an old school buddy of mine hanging out near the motel right before Ned disappeared. I saw you, Pete. You were parked on the street in your Mercedes. Not exactly your neighborhood.”
“Who’s going to believe you, Adam?” Peter said after a pause. “You didn’t tell anyone, and now you come up with this story? Without any proof?”
Halka laughed. “Who says I don’t have proof?”
Peter froze where he was. “Excuse me?”
The motel owner dug a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Peter. When he unfolded it, Peter saw a printout of a grainy nighttime photograph taken on a Duluth street near the motel.
It was himself. Sitting in his car.
“See, some things are weird enough that I like to document them,” Halka went on, “just in case they ever come in handy someday. The Great Peter Stanhope hanging out near my fleabag motel? I definitely wanted a record of that. Good thing I had my phone with me. Of course, I never really thought it had anything to do with Ned back then. I didn’t know anything had happened to him. But now?”
“What do you want, Adam?”
“You mean, to keep all of this to myself? To not talk to the police or the media about what I saw? Well, seems like we can come up with a fair price. I was thinking ten thousand dollars is a nice round number. Good for you and Devin. Good for me. Everybody wins.”
Peter shook his head. “I have a counteroffer for you, Adam.”
“Yeah? What do you have in mind?”
“Zero. That’s what I have in mind. I pay you zero, and we forget this conversation ever happened, and I don’t ask the police to charge you with extortion.”
Halka slammed his beer can down on the table, and foam spurted from the top. He shouted loud enough to make the walls shake. “You think I won’t send that photo to the cops? Just watch me. I’ll do it! I’ll take you down, Pete! I’ve waited a long time to get back at you, you arrogant prick!”
The motel owner sprang off the sofa, but just as quickly, Peter had his pistol in his hand. Halka stopped cold when he saw the gun. His upper lip snarled with hatred, but he backed away.
“That’s right, sit yourself back down, Adam,” Peter instructed him, keeping the gun aimed across the camper. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to walk out of here and forget I ever met you. You can do whatever you want with that photograph. Send it along to the police, I don’t care. But if you think I won’t put you in prison for blackmailing me, you’re wrong. Don’t play chicken with a lawyer, Adam. We don’t blink.”
Halka said nothing more. Peter waited to make sure the threat was gone, and then he turned around and left, slamming the door behind him as he did. He pocketed his gun as he descended the metal steps. He put on his best unconcerned smile as he marched across the wet ground back to his Mercedes, but he couldn’t escape the reality of his situation.
Everything was unraveling, just as he’d predicted. The rats were coming out of the walls.
The police were going to find out the truth.
21
“We didn’t break in to Wyatt’s place,” Cat told Stride. “Colleen had a key. He gave her a key. Doesn’t that make it okay?”
Stride sighed in the doorway of her bedroom. “It wasn’t her apartment. Colleen may have had a key, but she didn’t have permission from Wyatt to go inside. So no. It’s not okay.”
He watched Cat twist her hair in exasperation. She got off her bed, went to the window and looked out at the street, and then came back. “But now we know it’s him. I saw the pictures. He has a gun. You still can’t do anything?”
“Like arrest him? I’m sorry. I wish I could, but no. As far as the police and the courts are concerned, nothing you saw in there actually exists.”
“What if Colleen gives you a statement that Wyatt told her it was okay to go inside?”
“Is that true?” Stride asked.
“It could be true. I’m sure she’d say it was true.”
“I don’t play games like that, Cat. You know that.”
“But what am I supposed to do?” she asked.
Stride sat down next to her on the bed. “The first thing you do is not ditch Brayden again. Got it? He’s there to protect you. His job is to keep you safe. He can’t do that if you disappear on him.”