To Sketch a Thief (24 page)

Chapter 33

R
ory lost him twice. The first time because he was taking residential backstreets that twisted and turned with virtually no camouflaging traffic in which she could hide. She had to stay so far back that when she came out of one particularly sharp turn he was nowhere in sight. She passed several cross streets where he could have turned left or right instead of going straight. She had to make a decision and she had to make it fast. She didn’t think he’d noticed her yet and, assuming he was still headed south, it would have made no sense for him to turn off the road they were on.

She was frustrated and disgusted. She’d been so careful. How could she come this close to cracking the case just to lose sight of him now? She was still debating whether to turn around and try one of the cross streets she’d passed, or just go home and take up drinking, when she spotted him a few blocks ahead of her stopped at a red light. Never before had she been quite so pleased to see a red light. She was almost as happy to see that there was now a large SUV between them. She tucked her car in close behind it so she’d be less noticeable in the van’s rearview mirror. She was back in business.

The second time she lost him when she took a calculated risk. She was following him south on Route 110 when he started changing lanes for no apparent reason. Left to right, right to left and back again, doing a slalom run around the other cars that earned him a chorus of angry horns. There was only one reason why someone who’d been driving sanely for the past twenty minutes would suddenly turn into Evel Knievel. He wanted to see if he was being tailed.

Rory stayed where she was in the left lane. On a twolane road with moderate traffic it would be too obvious if she followed his every move. But she had to be careful not to let him out of her sight. There were too many places where he could turn off, either at office buildings, diners, hotels and strip malls or onto any number of side streets. She knew that when he made his move, he’d make it without warning. She just didn’t expect him to make it from the left lane.

The traffic was moving along at a fifty-mile-an-hour clip when he cut off a pickup truck and exited onto the next side street. As it happened, there was room behind the pickup if Rory wanted to change lanes to follow the van off. She decided against it. That would have confirmed any suspicions he had about being tailed, and she would have blown her chance of finding out who was behind the dognappings, possibly forever.

Instead, she turned into the next strip mall she came to, drove through the parking lot to a side exit and started backtracking through the local streets, hoping her luck would hold long enough for her to find him again. If the place he was going to had a garage, their little game of cat and mouse was over. She’d be out the money with nothing to show for it.

She drove around for ten minutes that felt more like ten hours. She wasn’t even sure if she was in Farmingdale or Amityville. It was a run-down commercial area with cement buildings and warehouses built on the cheap, the only architectural details limited to a few windows and a door. Every street she passed without a white van was a sucker punch to her gut. But she refused to give up. If she’d given up earlier, she wouldn’t have caught up with him at that red light. She kept the pep talk going to drown out the negative thoughts that were trying to stage a mutiny.

When Rory found the white van, she could hardly believe it was the right one. It was parked out in the open for all the world to see, near the front door of one of the smaller buildings on the block. Apparently she’d convinced the deliveryman that he wasn’t being followed. There were two other cars parked beside the van. She suspected one of them belonged to the boss of the operation, who was waiting for his money. The other could belong to the delivery guy or to Debbie. Further speculation would have to wait until later. Time was of the essence if she wanted to catch them by surprise. If anyone chose to leave before she made her move, she’d be the one at a disadvantage.

She backed her car into a slot beside the others so she wouldn’t have to waste time turning around if she had to leave in a hurry. Then she picked up her cell phone and dialed Leah’s extension at police headquarters. When Leah picked up, Rory told her briefly where she was and what was about to go down. In response to Leah’s alarmed questions, Rory promised to call back later. She knew Leah would immediately contact the local precinct with a heads-up. They in turn would dispatch patrol cars to the scene. They should arrive just in time to take the thieves into custody. If she’d called the precinct herself, they would have ordered her to leave the area immediately and let them handle the arrest. That was simply unacceptable.

She rested her hand on the grip of her .45 and left the car. As she approached the building she could hear the muted barking of several dogs. The noise was welcome; it would help mask any sounds she made entering the building. Unfortunately it would also mask the sounds of her adversaries should they turn the tables on her.

The front door had probably once been glass, but was presently a metal frame with wooden boards where the glass had been, so there was no way for Rory to see what awaited her inside. She’d assumed she’d have to pick the lock, but when she tried the door, she was amazed to find it open. Someone was definitely feeling bulletproof today. She wasn’t going to need her handy-dandy lock pick after all. With a deep, steadying breath and her right hand resting on the hilt of the .45, she slipped inside.

She found herself in a small reception area that was partially walled off from the rest of the building. The only furnishings were an old metal desk and a chair with its stuffing oozing out of a seam like custard from a doughnut. This first-class setup was most likely Debbie’s domain. She didn’t appear to be on the job that day.

Two male voices were coming from somewhere beyond the partition, but their words were garbled by the howling of their contraband. Rory waited a full minute to see if she could pick out any other voices. No, two seemed to be the full complement. All right, two to one weren’t terrible odds when the element of surprise was factored in. These men had left the door unlocked, so they clearly had no idea they were about to be busted. No reason to have weapons in their hands.

As Rory stepped around the partition into the cavernous open space that made up the rest of the warehouse, she saw a half dozen dog crates arrayed against the back wall. Three of them were occupied. The two men had their backs to her. The deliveryman was looking on, while the other man knelt by an empty crate where he was working on the latch with a screwdriver. There was something about the man with the screwdriver, about the way he held himself, that immediately rang a bell in Rory’s mind. But before she could put a name to him, the deliveryman looked up and saw her. He gave a little grunt of surprise that caused the other man to glance over his shoulder. In the dull glow of the single overhead light, Eddie Mays looked positively ghoulish.

“You haven’t done much with the place,” Rory said casually, her hand still resting on the hilt of the gun.

Eddie stood up. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”

“Well, to begin with I want to put an end to this dognapping ring of yours, and then I want to see you tried, convicted and sent to prison on felony charges, along with anyone else who’s involved in this little enterprise.”

“That’s quite a wish list you’ve got,” Eddie said pleasantly. “And you seem to be mistaking me for Santa Claus.”

“Hey, hold on . . . dognapping ring? What are you talking about?” The deliveryman’s voice was shaky, and he was backing away from Eddie as if to literally distance himself from whatever trouble the older man represented. “Oh my God, that’s why you told me to be careful I wasn’t being followed. You said you were worried about the dognappers finding this place, but you’re the ones stealing the dogs!” He turned to Rory. “I thought this business was legit. I took it to make some extra cash. I didn’t know the dogs were stolen. I’ve never been in trouble. Never even had a speeding ticket. I swear. I go to college over at Suffolk. My name’s Keith Beal. Look, I can prove—”

“Stop your yapping,” Eddie snapped at him. “You’re worse than the dogs.” He turned back to Rory, his mouth curved up in a malevolent smile. “How much? How much will it take to send you on your way? Come on, name your price. It’ll just be between us three.”

“Actually I prefer to leave it between you and the police,” Rory replied. “But please feel free to make them the same offer.” She watched Eddie’s magnified eyes cloud over behind his thick lenses.

“Or maybe we should save them the trouble and take care of things before they get here,” he said, moving toward her, the screwdriver tight in his fist.

“Stop right where you are and drop the screwdriver; otherwise I’m going to assume you’re threatening me and I’ll be forced to shoot you in self-defense.”

Eddie paused briefly as if he were calculating his odds in such a skirmish. When he started toward her again, he was holding the screwdriver at shoulder height, poised to attack.

When he was six feet away, Rory drew her gun, cupped it in both hands and once again ordered him to stop.

“I don’t think you got it in you,” Eddie snickered, still coming at her. “What do you think of that?”

Rory knew if she let him get any closer, he’d have a good chance of lunging for the gun and wrestling it away from her. She aimed for his leg and squeezed off a round, slowly and evenly the way she’d been trained. The bullet missed its mark, but not by much, slamming into one of the cement walls and ricocheting off into another. The shot had the desired effect. Eddie stopped in his tracks.

She pulled a set of plastic cuffs out of the pocket where she’d stowed them early that morning and tossed them toward Keith. “If you want to impress me by cooperating, get those on him.”

“Absolutely,” Keith said, scrambling to retrieve the cuffs. “I’m cooperating. I’m definitely cooperating. You don’t know my folks, but they’re gonna kill me. They’re gonna f—”

“Listen to you,” Eddie snarled, venting his rage on Keith. “You sound like my grandmother.”

“Both of you be quiet and stay put or you’re going to wind up in a lot of pain,” Rory reminded them, pleased by how steady and calm she sounded.

Eddie stood there glowering at her, while Keith fumbled with the cuffs until he managed to get them on him. Even the dogs were quiet. Rory figured she had another five minutes, maybe even less, before the cavalry arrived. No problem. But in the next moment she was startled by another voice, one that was so close to her that it made her jump. “Behind you,” the voice whispered in her ear. Then more urgently, “Rory, behind you.”

She swung around in time to see Joe Kovack coming at her, brandishing one of the large wrenches he used in his work. She trained her gun on him, backing away laterally so she could keep all the men in view. As soon as Rory’s eyes met Joe’s, she saw the fight go out of him. It was as if a fissure deep in his core had finally given way under too much pressure. His shoulders slumped and the wrench fell out of his hand, clattering to the cement floor.

“Coward,” Eddie growled at him. “You had her. You were close enough to knock her out. You’re a loser, Kovack. You’ve been a loser all along. I don’t know why in hell I listened to you. ‘Just let her think you’re breaking into the house,’ you said. ‘That’ll be enough to scare her,’ you said. Well, look at her, Kovack. I nearly killed her damn dog too, yet here she is. She doesn’t scare so easy, does she?”

“Oh, well, your way was much better, Mays,” Joe said, his face flushing as anger rose in him, propping him up again. “If it was up to you, you would have killed her and hoped no one figured it out. You’re a shark. All muscle, no brain.”

Rory listened to the dialogue snap back and forth between the two men as if she were witnessing some bizarre piece of theater. It was clear that they’d never liked one another, and stress had caused that animosity to fester into something lethal. They didn’t even seem to care that she was still standing there able to hear everything they said.

“Better a shark than a coward,” Eddie sneered in disgust. “You didn’t belong in this operation from the get-go.”

“You know what? You’re right. I don’t know how I let Larry talk me—”

“Shut your damn trap,” Eddie spit out, cutting him off.

“Why?” Joe’s laugh was contemptuous. “You think your buddy Larry’s going to protect us? They’ve got him on assault and murder. This here is penny-ante stuff in comparison. He’ll roll on us the second he thinks it’ll help his situation. You really thought you could keep this operation going without Larry to call the shots? Wake up, it’s over. It’s all over.”

Rory’s head was reeling. How could Joe be involved in this? Good, hardworking Joe who’d loved Tina since high school—had he really helped steal two of the dogs she doted on? Rory could barely stretch her mind around the idea. On the other hand, learning that Larry was the brains of the operation required no effort at all. She already knew he was a killer, a liar and a cheat. She wondered if anyone else was going to pop out of the woodwork before this day was over.

The dogs had started their howling again; seconds later Rory heard the wail of sirens approaching. As the police poured into the building, she recognized Detective Cirello, the sour old cop she’d met the day Brenda was killed. Since he appeared to be the ranking officer there, she went over to reintroduce herself and brief him on what had happened. She wasn’t surprised to find that he hadn’t mellowed any since their last encounter. She handed him her .45 and told him they’d find the missing bullet in the wall on the right.

Rory knew she’d have to follow him back to the precinct to file a report, but she asked for his patience while she took care of one last matter. Assuming he’d deny the request, she turned away before he had a chance to respond and made her way to the back wall. She hunkered down in front of the three crates that held the dogs. They were barking and whining, confused by the sudden whirl of activity. She placed her hands against the bars so they could sniff her and know she was a friend.