Seeds of Evidence (9781426770838) (30 page)

“Why there?” Kit shifted her weight on her feet.

“I don't know.”

“What does he want?”

“He wants me to meet somebody. My guess is, it's his boss.”

Kit took a breath. Her knees were shaky. She began to pace. “No good, David. Make it some public place, where we can back you up.” She had already cancelled her meeting with Curtis in her mind.

“I don't have a choice.”

“He just killed somebody!”

“I know. And I suggested a diner up the road, but Lopez said no. It has to be the plant.”

“Then blow it off.”

“No. I'm not going to do that.”

Kit's mind raced. This felt too risky, too dangerous. She glanced up to see if Chris or the others were around. Maybe he'd listen to Chris, maybe . . .

“Look, Kit, Lopez isn't going to hurt me. I've given him what he wanted. He has no idea I'm law enforcement. Now, the timing is right. He has a new truck. I think he's going to ask me to move something illegal. People, maybe. It's great—a chance to find out who he's working for. Lopez isn't the main man.”

“Then who is he?”

“The enforcer. He's a psychopath, Kit. I can see it in his eyes. He likes it when people get hurt.”

“Great! So you're going with a psychopath to meet someone else in a place we can't get to!”

“Yeah, well, our clients aren't Boy Scouts, Kit. I'll be all right. Trust me. I'm betting that tonight I'll meet Carlos—and I'll be one step closer to finding Maria and nailing Lopez on Bob's murder.” He hesitated. “Who knows? We may find out who killed your little boy.”

The other team members were talking to Jason, the tech guy, when Kit walked back into the main room. She outlined David's plan and used the graphics on her computer to show them the tomato processing plant.

“We can't back him up there,” Chris said.

“I know. I told him. He says it has to be there.”

Roger spoke up. “We can be in the woods. We'll have to walk in a ways, but the three of us can get within twenty yards or so of the building.”

“Two. Kit's going to be with Sam Curtis,” Chris said.

“I'll cancel that,” Kit said.

“No need to. I can get a couple of guys to help out,” Roger suggested.

Chris stretched. “Curtis is leaving for a convention tomorrow morning, Kit. If you don't go tonight, you won't have another chance for three or four days.”

“If David has his cell phone in his pocket, he can have a number programmed in. Then all he has to do is push one button if he's in trouble,” Jason added. “As a backup, he can bust out a window. We hear glass breaking, we move.

Everybody else thought that was good enough. Kit had her doubts.

Kit called David later in the day. “Jason wants to program in a number on your cell so you just have to hit one button if you get in trouble.”

“Right. I talked to him.”

“Did you get some sleep?”

“Not much. You?”

Kit shivered. “No.” She outlined the back-up plan she and the others had concocted and told him she would be at Sam Curtis's home at the same time he was meeting Lopez.

“He may not know Lopez, but he will know Lopez's boss.”

Kit chewed her lip. “David, if something looks wrong, get out, OK?”

She heard him take a deep breath. “It'll be all right, Kit.”

The hours seemed to stretch out as the sun crawled toward the horizon. The rumble of thunder in the west announced that the predicted thunderstorms were going to materialize eventually. Kit hadn't eaten all day. Her stomach felt knotted. She thought maybe she should eat some yogurt, at least. But even that wouldn't go down.

Sam Curtis's house wasn't far from the tomato processing plant. She'd told Chris to call or text her if anything went wrong. She could leave and be at his location in ten, maybe twelve minutes.

The heavens broke loose at 5:40 p.m. Torrential rains poured down on the thirsty ground as lightning split the sky. Kit stood in the back doorway of the offsite office and watched as rain pelted the little pond in the back, tore leaves from the trees, and sent muddy rivulets racing toward low ground. “God,” she whispered, “you are so powerful. Please help us get through tonight.”

Lately, she'd been talking to him more. What was changing?

David dressed as if he'd been working, in a grubby T-shirt, jeans, and workboots. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days, and his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. As he looked in the mirror, he saw fatigue and boredom, which was the look he was going for. Low threat.

Carefully putting his real cell phone in a drawer in his room, he clipped the pay-as-you-go phone on his belt and slid his wallet in his back pocket. Then he put a knife in his boot, and picked up a small revolver, and stuck it in his jacket pocket.

The air was still steamy as he stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him and slipping the key in his pocket. The sky was dark. Water from the late afternoon thunderstorm dripped off of the roof. The asphalt in the parking lot remained studded with puddles.

David got into his SUV. The drive to the tomato processing plant was short, just fifteen minutes or so. In his mind's eye, he could imagine Chris and the others skirting through the woods, headed for the area near the tomato processing plant, having hidden their vehicles some distance away. They'd been waiting. He hoped he didn't have to call on them. But he had all of his options in mind.

He felt just as glad Kit would be out of the area. His instincts would be to protect her. Now, he could concentrate on his primary goals: meeting Lopez's boss and not getting killed himself.

K
IT COULDN
'
T EAT, SHE COULDN
'
T SLEEP, AND HER HANDS FELT COLD AS
she got into her car and headed for Curtis's house. Calm down, she told herself, but she was spitting into the wind.

The country roads she had to travel were dark and empty, and still wet from the thunderstorm. She watched her speed, and took the curves carefully, aware that an accident was the last thing she needed tonight. Periodically, her headlights would catch the light of some animal's eyes, a cat, perhaps, or a possum, crouching on the edge of the road.

Curtis and his wife Anne lived in a modern brick rambler at the end of a long lane. Surrounded by tomato and cornfields, the house had a wheelchair ramp leading to the side door and a circular driveway made of crushed oyster shells. The lights were on as Kit drove up. She parked in the driveway, and heard dogs barking as she approached the front door and rang the bell.

“Come in, come in!” Curtis said, opening the door wide.

Kit stepped in to the modest home and a black Labrador retriever and a Jack Russell terrier came up to her barking, tails wagging.

“They won't hurt you none. Come on in!”

She walked past the dogs, into the living room, painted blue and carpeted in beige. A high-backed couch sat near the wall to the left. Two wing-backed chairs were arranged in a conversational grouping, near a fireplace with an enormous, natural wood mantle. Over it was the mounted head of a ten-point buck.

“Sit down!” Curtis said. “Can I git ya something to drink?”

“No, thanks. Is anyone else in the house?” Kit stood with her back to the front wall, facing all of the entrances to the room.

“My wife Anne will be out shortly. She's back with Mawmaw. That's her mother. Ninety-six years old. Pretty much bedridden though.”

As if on cue, a gray-haired, attractive, sixty-something woman came into the room. “Ms. McGovern? Welcome to our home,” she said extending her hand.

Kit rose to meet her. “I'm sorry I had to make it so late.”

“Not a problem, dear, we've got a good hour before we go to bed.” She pronounced the word “ow-wah.” Kit caught the “old Virginia” in her voice. She glanced at her watch. It was 9:05 p.m.

David intentionally arrived early at the tomato processing plant. He laid his head back, his iPod earbuds in his ears. He wanted Lopez to see him using the device again. And if his boss saw it, too, all the better. He heard someone drive up, but stayed still, as if he were asleep. He heard footsteps approaching his car, and then slam! Someone hit the side of his Jeep.

“What!” David said, as if he'd been startled awake.

“Wake up, cowboy!” Lopez said, grinning. “Let's go.”

David pulled the earbuds out of his ears, stuffed them in his jeans pocket, making sure to leave a little of the white wires
showing, and got out of his SUV. “Just catching some sleep,” he said to Lopez.

“Give me the gun,” Lopez said holding out his hand.

David hesitated, then drew the revolver out of his pocket and slapped it into Lopez's hand. The man jerked David's cell phone off of his belt, and threw it and the gun into David's SUV. Then he turned and patted him down. He didn't find the knife in David's boot.

“All right, let's go, let's go.” They began walking toward the main building at the processing plant, then Lopez suddenly stopped. “Oh, I forget. We change the meeting place.”

David stopped. A warning flashed through him. “What are you talking about, man?”

“My boss, he say he can't meet here. We go to him. Get in.” Lopez motioned with his head toward his truck.

For a split-second, David thought about opting out. Refusing to go. But then, they were so close, so close. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. “I'll follow you in my car.”

“Get in, man!” Lopez said.

Heart drumming, David put his hand on the truck door and pulled it open.