Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 3) (6 page)

Chapter 10

Angela Foster lived in a modest apartment building located on the west side of West Palm Beach. The ten-story structure had balconies for each unit, four on each corner with a total of 40 units. The building, and those surrounding it, seemed dated, and I got the sense this neighborhood might have been nice at one time … but not anymore.

“
For the daughter of a millionaire, I expected something more fancy,” I said. “Are we sure this is the right place?”

Looking around, the neighborhood was mostly condos, a few restaurants, and a drug store on the corner. Carter found an empty parking spot, rolled down all the windows, and cut the engine. He gestured to a parking lot adjacent to the apartment building. “Her Jeep is in the lot over there, so this is definitely her place, and she's probably home.” Carter leaned back, interlacing his fingers behind his head. “I have a plan and it's simple. I'll get into her apartment and look for a stash of money. Hopefully, she hasn't spent it all.”

“
So we just wait here until she leaves her apartment? What if she doesn't?”

Carter grinned. I'd seen that same, mischievous grin many times before. “I have that covered,” he said, grabbing his duffel bag from the back seat. He reached inside, pulled out a navy blue hat and a
nametag.

Inspecting the
nametag, I sputtered a laugh. “Jake Palmer, huh? Who are you supposed to be?”

Carter put the hat on, and I saw the white, embroidered letters across the front – JP Pest Control.

I laughed again. “That's brilliant.”

“
Termites,” Carter said, his expression deadpan. “It's a real problem in the tropics, you know. I'll tell her that the landlord has hired me to inspect the apartments.”

“
What if she calls the landlord to confirm the story?”

Carter primped himself in the rearview mirror. “I'll just have to be extra convincing, that's all.”

“
So what should I do?”

“
Stay here and keep watch.” He exited the car with his duffel bag and made his way across the street to the apartment entrance.

The sun was blazing and the temperature rising. How long would I be waiting in the hot car? I knew Carter wouldn't dilly-dally. He'd probably be inside the apartment no more than fifteen minutes.

The neighborhood was mostly quiet. A few people ambled by, most of them coming and going from a nearby cafe.

After five minutes, I had to assume that Carter had convinced Angela that he was legitimately there to inspect for pests. I could picture him in his navy hat, flashing his big smile, and charming her with his witty personality. Carter could be quite the lady's man when the situation called for it.

I could feel a stream of sweat rolling down my back. I got out of the car, hoping to catch a breeze and cool off. I leaned against the car while keeping an eye on the apartment and the surrounding area. I tugged my baseball cap down to shield my eyes from the blinding sunrays.

I checked my watch. Almost ten-thirty. Carter had been gone for almost ten minutes and my heart rate was beginning to increase.

At ten-forty-five, my hands began to sweat – a combination of the humidity and nerves. I kept glancing at the apartment building, wondering why Carter was taking so long. Her place couldn't have been that big, a few rooms at best.

Maybe Angela had invited him to stay for a cup of coffee.

The street was quiet except for loud T.V. coming from someone's apartment. They must have been watching a cop show; police sirens filled the air.

Another minute passed, and finally, I looked up to see Carter walking out of the apartment building, his stride slow and measured, like he was in no hurry at all. But something was odd. As he got closer, I noticed his expression was strained.

I blinked in astonishment. His left arm and chest was covered in red.

“
What's that stuff all over you?” I asked him. “Is … is that blood?”

“
Get in the car, now,” he said. “We have to go.”

Chapter 11

Carter started the engine, slammed the gear into drive, and squealed out of the parking spot just as a cruiser rounded the corner with lights flashing and sirens blaring. When I glanced back, a blonde woman with cut-off jeans was waving her arms in the air, running toward us in the middle of the street. Her white t-shirt was covered in red, too. She was screaming something at us, but her voice was drowned out by the sirens getting nearer.

That had to be Angela Foster.

“
What the hell happened?” I shouted, but Carter was too focused on the road to answer me.

He gripped the steering wheel, glancing in his rear-view mirror every few seconds. To my surprise, the little Honda rental car had a lot of pep, but the cruiser was not far behind.

“
Are you okay?” I asked. “I thought the police sirens were coming from someone's T.V.”

“
I'm fine,” he said, but I knew it was a lie. His face was pale and his breathing labored.

“
We should get you to a hospital.”

“
It's just a shallow knife wound.”

“
Angela stabbed you?”

He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Can't talk. I need to focus on losing the cops, so hold on.”

Carter put the petal to the medal as we approached the intersection. The light turned yellow but Carter did not slow down. By the time we sailed through the light, it had already turned red. A guy on a moped almost crashed into us.

In the rear-view mirror, I saw the cruiser with its flashing blues gaining on us.

Without any warning, Carter took another left, down a one-way street. An oncoming car had to swerve to avoid smashing into us. I gripped the handlebar and held my breath.

Carter glanced at me with mild concern. “Relax. I've done this before.”

“
Outrun the cops or getting stabbed?”

“
Both, actually.” Carter slammed on the brakes, took an immediate left, and then a sharp right, pulling into a parking garage as I tried to steady my beating heart.

As I glanced out the back window, I didn't see any blue flashing lights. Had we really lost them?

Carter stopped just long enough to grab a ticket from the dispenser, then drove up the ramp to the top of the garage, six levels. He parked near the stairwell, shut the engine, grabbed his duffel and laptop bags. “We won't be coming back for this vehicle, so make sure you have everything.”

I hugged my purse to my chest. Exiting the car, I glanced around. Only two other cars were parked nearby, but nobody was around.

I followed Carter as he calmly made his way to the edge of the lot. He searched the street below. Only then did he pause to exhale as he set his bags on the ground.

I helped him sit on a concrete step. “We have to get you to a hospital.”

“
I'm fine. I just need some antibacterial ointment and medical tape. Got any?”

I rummaged through my purse. “Just a few Band-aids and wet wipes.”

“
That'll do.” Carter managed to get his shirt off as I got the wipes and Band-aids ready. Just below his shoulder on the outside of his arm, an open gash of about three centimeters oozed blood. I wiped it clean, but the bleeding wouldn't stop.

“
We need to apply pressure,” I said.

“
My heart is pumping too fast right now. Once it slows down, the bleeding will slow down, too. Just give me a minute. Keep an eye out for the cruiser on the street, would ya?”

“
What happened at Angela's?” I finally said after giving him a moment. My voice sounded shaky and I realized my whole body was trembling. But I felt more at ease as I peered into the street below; no sign of the police cruiser. When I looked back at Carter, he was still on the ground, holding his arm. “Start from the beginning,” I said. “What happened when Angela answered the door?”

Carter closed his eyes and made a grunting noise. “Angela believed my story about the landlord hiring me to inspect the units. She let me in, no problem.” He paused to wipe sweat from his brow then shook his head in frustration. “Damn it, I got sloppy.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
Angela was in the kitchen having coffee, and she told me I could have a look around. I went into her bedroom, searched the closet, all her drawers, under the bed. No bag of cash. I went into her office, checked every drawer in her desk. I found a folder with a bunch of receipts, so I started taking pictures with my cell phone. But then ... well, she walked into the room and saw me.”

I gasped. “She caught you going through her desk?”

Carter nodded, clearly remorseful. “She freaked out, started screaming. She grabbed her phone, called the police. I tried to get the hell out of there but she wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“
By stabbing you in the arm?”

“
Apparently.”

“
Did you do something to provoke her?”

He grimaced. “Sarah, you know me better than that. Angela probably thought I was trying to steal her identity. She didn't want me to get away unscathed.”

I cleaned the rest of the blood on Carter's arm with the wet wipes, dried him off, then applied five Band-aids in a crisscross pattern. “You didn't mention Brook Foster, did you?”

“
Of course not. I'd never mention a client's name.”

Carter inspected my handiwork while I discarded the used wipes and bandage wrappers in a nearby trash bin. “I don't look forward to telling Brook what just happened,” I said. “She has enough to worry about right now. She's going to think we're a bunch of hacks.”

“
Then don't tell her.”

“
I
have
to tell her, just in case this little incident ends up on the evening news.”

Carter slowly got to his feet, found a clean t-shirt from one of his bags, and threw the bloody one in the trash. “We need to find a taxi.”

“
The cops are probably back at Angela's apartment,” I said. “They'll be collecting blood samples for your DNA. Once they know who you are, they'll probably put an APB out for you. You need to lay low for a while.”

“
Fine,” he said. “I won't argue with that, but we still need a taxi to get back to Ocean Terrace. Looks like you'll have to rent a car, too.”

* * *

An hour later, I was sitting with Brook at her kitchen table as we watched the surveillance video from the airport on my laptop.

“
Could this be Angela wearing a wig?” I asked, pointing to the brown-haired woman.

Brook stared, not blinking for what seemed like a full minute before she let out a breath. “I don't know if that's her. It could be, but it's hard to tell. Maybe she dyed her hair brown, or it's a wig.”

We watched the video several times. “There's a thirteen-minute window between the time you left and the time the janitor entered the restroom. The brown-haired woman is the only one who fits Angela's age. Unless Angela got a friend to pick the money up for her, but as you can see, the only other people who went in and out of the restroom during that thirteen-minute window were either younger than twenty, or older than fifty.”

Brook nodded, in a daze, clearly not sure what to think. “Have you gone to Angela's apartment, yet?”

I cringed. “Yeah, that didn't go so well.”

Brook looked at me quizzically. “Something happened?”

“
Well, Carter had a plan to get into her place. He posed as a pest inspector, and she fell for it. He was able to look through her things, but she caught him taking pictures.”

Brook's eyes widened in terror. “What? Wh … what did she do?”

“
She called the police on him, but he was able to get away.” I decided to leave out the part about the stabbing. “At any rate, we'll look over Carter photos and see if he got anything to help us. I was hoping you'd be okay with me talking to Andrew about his sister.”

“
I don't think he's been in contact with Angela. Besides, I don't want him involved in my business.”

“
Why not? Why would he care at this point if you had an affair?”

“
He might try and cut me out of the will.”

“
I don't think he
could.
A will is a legally binding document
.
”

Brook stared at the floor, lips set into a straight, rigid line. Finally she looked up and gave a quick nod. “Fine, you can talk to Andrew, but you
can't
tell him about the blackmail or the affair. Maybe you can make up a story, tell him I hired you to find Angela.”

“
Sure,” I said. “I've become pretty good at making up stories.”