The Woman (30 page)

* * *

Before leaving the Pittsburgh airport, Ryan rented a gray two-door car using one of his sets of false identification. In the future, without Webster, he would need to buy these on his own. After driving outside the city proper, he abandoned the car two blocks from an Enterprise in-town car rental center. He walked there alone, rented a black four-door and drove back to pick up Linda. Less than an hour later he stopped and rented a room, again paying cash.

Once inside, he said, “I need to go out for a while. Don’t leave the room. If you want ice or anything to eat, use room service.”

“Where are you going?”

“Not important.”

* * *

When Ryan got back and entered their hotel room, Linda was watching television.

“Where have you been?”

“We ditched our guns before our flight, remember, so I did a little shopping for things we’ll need. Now, let’s get some sleep. I’ll set the alarm for five-thirty. We’ll go over the plan then, have some breakfast and get on the road. Destination: the area near Falls Church, Virginia.”

* * *

By seven the next morning, Ryan had reviewed the high points of his plan with Linda. He had also answered or deflected her questions. Through it all she paced the room, periodically running her hands through her hair. She also drank the hotel room coffee he had made before waking her.

He finished with, “One hard and fast rule: If you want to survive, you’ll do what I tell you, and do it immediately. Get your questions over with before we get there. I’ll go over the weapons a little later.”

“I can’t believe this. I’m on my way to kill someone.”

“I can handle it alone. Then meet you back here.”

“Cynthia was my friend. Besides, it’s me Webster is after. That makes this my fight. I’m in.”

“Okay. I know Webster’s estate, so we’ll need very little reconnoitering. Until tonight’s activities are finished, do nothing to draw attention to us. Keep this hat on unless I tell you to take it off. While I was out last night I also filled up the gas tank and stopped at a supermarket. We have bananas, apples, rolls, candy and water. If you need to use a restroom give me lots of advance notice. I’ll find a fast food restaurant with a side entrance that comes in near their bathrooms.”

“Why not a gas station with a convenience market?” Linda asked.

“More than likely they’ll have a video recorder for security.”

“I would have never thought of that.”

“This is your last chance to stay here. I can come back for you.”

“I can’t condone what we’re going to do, but it somehow feels right. No. It feels wrong. Necessary’s the word, not right. It’s my fight so I can’t walk away and let you carry it off alone.”

“In some ways, it would be easier alone. Last chance.”

“No. I’m in. That’s final. What do we do next?”

“Okay. Check out time is twelve. I’ve arranged for an extra hour. The alarm is reset for noon. We need five hours to get there, and we’ve got about twelve before we need to arrive. We don’t want to be loitering anywhere along the way, so we’ll sleep until noon. Then we’ll leave. There’ll be a place where we can stop to review things and rest for a while on the way.”

“My God, I can’t sleep now.”

“You’re going to burn huge quantities of nervous energy. Depending on how it goes we might be able to sleep tomorrow night, then again, we may not. So get to sleep. That’s an order, soldier.”

“I don’t know how much sleep I’ll get,” she said.

He put the do-not-disturb sign on the outside knob, and pulled shut the blackout drapes while Linda got under the covers.

“Focus on relaxing your feet.”

“What?” she asked. “What good is that?”

“When your feet are relaxed, focus on relaxing your legs. Then your butt, on up until you get your head to relax.”

“Then what?”

“Then you’ll be asleep.”

“It’s that simple, huh?”

“If you let it be.”

* * *

Linda liked the idea of sleep, but didn’t believe it would come. She thought about how her entirely placid life since moving to Sea Crest had turned tumultuous. Perhaps the changes she now faced were exactly what she needed to rebalance the rhythms of her life. Then she felt Ryan stroking her hair. “Remember,” he said, “your feet. Concentrate. Then move up little by little.”

* * *

Ryan opened his eyes a few minutes before noon. He woke Linda, telling her to lie quietly while he called Webster. She wrinkled her brow, but said nothing, just nodded.

“Boss. Testler. I’ve located the target. She’s having breakfast in the hotel coffee shop. I’ll follow her up after she eats.”

“Which casino are you at?”

“No time. I need to get in position to follow her. I expect to have this wrapped up in time to give you a final report by late tonight, or early tomorrow morning depending on how long I question her.”

“Call me when it’s done. I’ll be home tonight. Alone.”

“You won’t be going out? No visitors?”

“No. Call no matter the time. I want to know this is done. After that get back to Sea Crest and take care of Chief McIlhenny.”

“Okay, boss. Oops. She’s getting up from her table. I gotta get in position. The next time you hear from me it should be wrapped up.”

Ryan hung up and turned to Linda who had gotten up and was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, her arms crossed. “Webster will be home,” he said. “He won’t be expecting us. Now you go on and get ready. We need to be out of here in one hour.”

“Get ready?” Linda said, incredulous. “What does one do to get ready? Should I brush my teeth? Does a lady wear lipstick to a murder?” She felt her lips trembling—oh no.

Ryan went over to her and put his arms around her. She cried and held him. When she stopped, she stood back and looked embarrassed.

“Now,” Ryan repeated softly. “Go get ready. Wear the clothes I gave you. No jewelry. None. We leave in fifty minutes.”

“I thought you said an hour?”

“I did. Ten minutes ago.”

* * *

While Linda showered, Ryan called Chief Ben McIlhenny on his cell phone. “Chief, this is me. We need to make it Thursday, rather than Tuesday.”

“No way. You’ve delayed me long enough! . . . Why?”

“I’m in the east. I’ll need to mix and match some driving and flying to get back there. I’ll be able to leave tomorrow.”

“You knew our plans for Tuesday. Why did you go?”

“Back here I can get my hands on some documents that will corroborate our story. Nail it down air tight. I wanted to be sure I could get them before I called you. I’ll meet you as planned in the cove north of Lincoln City, on Thursday.”

“I don’t like this,” McIlhenny said.

“You will when you see what I’ll be bringing. It’ll assure you’ll get your immunity for the Jersey killing,” Ryan said, confident this would entice Chief McIlhenny to cooperate.

“All right,” McIlhenny said after a long sigh. “Thursday, but everything else remains the same as we had planned for Tuesday. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

Chapter 46

Ryan turned off his lights a mile from the entrance to the Webster estate. Then he drove by at a low speed. Had he turned into the driveway it would have taken him through a small grove of trees along a casual curve that led to the guard gate about seventy-five yards inside the property line.

From the street, he and Linda could see only two portentous peaks pocked with gabled windows peering down like dark eyes trimmed out from the wall ivy. Faint shards of light escaping from somewhere on the estate silently punctured the matte sky.

Five minutes later, at two minutes after eight to be exact, Ryan pulled their rental car off the road, through the dark rain into the swallow of a densely treed area south of Webster’s property. For the next minute or so he drove slowly through low wet weeds. Then he swung hard left and pulled the rented Taurus to a stop under the tar-papered roof of a lean-to supported on one side by a decaying adobe block wall. The corners of the other side were supported by two round wooden posts resembling old telephone poles. That shelter, such as it was, ended the plink of the rain against the roof and hood of the car. He turned off the windshield wipers. Next, he opened the windows halfway to begin their adjustment to the outside conditions and to prevent the windows from fogging.

The old shelter appeared to have been built long ago to protect burlap bags of feed and fertilizer. The nearby fields had surrendered their tillable dignity, forgotten farmland locked in an endless time warp between harvest and spring plowing. Whoever had forsaken the fields no longer cared about the decaying shed. The corner post to the right front gimped enough to tilt the entire structure, the roof rain pouring down from that corner.

They were about a half mile from the outer wall of Webster’s estate, a half mile from their mission.

“Are we going to get through this alive?” Linda asked, her eyes staring into the wet darkness.

“Piece of cake. Webster hates dogs, so that’s one less thing to worry about. And the housekeeper/cook should be gone by now. That leaves Webster, Victor and Mark.”

“So we’re outnumbered.”

“Surprise makes us an army.”

“Will all three of them be in the house?”

“Mark is likely in the guard gate up at the entrance. Webster and Victor should be inside.”

“Why Mark? Couldn’t Victor be in the guard shack?”

“Not likely. Mark is smart like his brother, but less likeable. Victor is more personable, more conversant. Webster likes Victor better. So do I. But one of them will be up front, the other inside.”

“Damn this rain,” Linda said. “I can’t see anything.”

“Oh, no. This is great. People go outside less when it rains. Noise dies in the rain. It’s even likely that Mark will stay in the guard shack and skip his rounds. Security at Webster’s estate is a cushy job. It’s made the brothers sloppy about procedures.”

“Is there a chance,” Linda said, “that we could reason with Webster? Convince him I know nothing?”

“None whatsoever.”

“I’m afraid.”

“There’s good fear and bad fear.”

“It can’t be good to be afraid.”

“Bad fear clogs your mind, slows your reactions. Good fear makes you cautious, keeps you alert. Don’t fight fear. Let it work for you.” He reached over and squeezed her thigh. “You got balls, little lady, to come this far. You can wait here. For me, this is a go, with or without you.”

Linda got out of the car. They were both dressed in black rain gear from hat to sneakers, with more black under the rain gear, all military style clothing Ryan had selected to remain quiet when they moved. Ryan had gotten the clothes somewhere in Pittsburgh the night before, the night he had gone out to purchase the guns they carried as well as regular and night vision binoculars.

The wet, cold air created the kind of atmospheric pressure that caresses a bullet and keeps it on course.

Linda looked up at the sky.

Ryan said, “These rain clouds will help us get to the house without being detected.”

“Absolutely?” she asked.

“Nothing’s absolute.”

“And if not?”

“We improvise.”

Ryan slipped a 9-mm Beretta into a shoulder holster inside his rain jacket, then put a second Beretta into some kind of apparatus behind his neck, inside his jacket collar. Linda’s Rossi .38 snub nose he put into her jacket pocket.

“Do not draw this gun outside the house. Not unless I’ve fired first and the target is close.” He put his face close to hers and raised his eyebrows. She nodded. Then he continued. “When we’re inside with Webster, keep your hands mostly in the pockets of your jacket, but take your hands out and put them back in a few times. I want him to see your hands in your pockets as nonthreatening.”

Again, she nodded.

“The Rossi is most accurate and effective from in close. But don’t worry, inside you’ll be pretty close. If necessary you can fire without taking it out of your pocket. The hammer on the Rossi will not foul in the fabric. If time is critical, fire right through your jacket.”

Again, she nodded.

Ryan flipped the strap on his regular binoculars over his head with the glasses resting on his back; then did the same with the night-vision binoculars only putting them so they would hang to his front.

He took her arm and they walked out from the protection of the lean-to roof.

* * *

Webster buzzed Victor to come into his home office.

“What do you think about Ryan Testler?”

“Strong. Capable. Ice under stress. He’s reliable to work with. You know we were together in Delta.”

“I meant more with respect to our work.”

“He’s a good man, sir. Hasn’t he always gotten done whatever missions you’ve given him?”

“What if I told you I’m starting to doubt him?”

“I find that hard to believe, sir. But then, your judgment has never steered me wrong.”