Trust No One (38 page)

MJ unlocked the cuffs. “That’s gratitude for you.”

“I saw you get that paper clip.”

“I thought you were knocked silly.”

“I bumped my head yes, but my brain still worked. What took you so fucking long?”

“You’re welcome. You’ve got blood all on your legs.”

Tasha looked down and grimaced. “Ugh.” She looked around, went to the wet bar, hopped on the counter and put her legs in the sink. She wrapped an arm around her waist. “Shit, that fucking hurts.”

“Old Joe got your ribs pretty good.”

Tasha turned on the water. “I got him back.”

“Joe said they weren’t supposed to kill us.”

“No, save that for whoever is calling the shots. Wish he’d talked.” Tasha washed her legs and turned off the water. “Hand me that little towel there.”

MJ tossed the towel from the counter top. “Now, what?”

“Now, we get out of here.”

“Naked?”

Tasha looked around. “Your clothes are ruined, that’s for sure. I still have my pants. Our shoes are okay.” Tasha picked up her shoes, tossed MJ hers. “Bastards. We’ll get some clothes upstairs.”

“We need this.” MJ grabbed the camcorder, pulled the small cassette free before pointing out, “The coroner is likely still here.”

“One problem at a time. I think better dressed.”

“We could use some of Joe’s clothes.”

“Ugh. Feel free, I’d rather have clean clothes that don’t smell like asshole.”

Tasha had a point.

“We didn’t get to question them,” MJ stated the obvious.

“Yeah, uncooperative bastards. More work for us.”

“Wait, before we go, I have an idea.” MJ searched through Joe’s clothes.

“What?”

“Where’s his phone?”

“Front pocket.”

MJ pulled it out. She scrolled through the phone book. “Only numbers. No names.”

“Inconvenient he doesn’t have the boss’s name listed under “boss” so we could just go get him.”

“Most likely the boss is using a throwaway phone. I have another idea.” MJ lifted Joe’s arm. “Help me get him closer to Mac. The last number he called has to be his boss, or someone important. I’ll hit redial.”

“Gonna send the guy a message?”

“Figure it’s the fastest way for me to get back home if he comes out of the woodwork.”

The two women dragged Joe over to Mac, arranged them both so it was clear they were dead.

MJ aimed the camera phone.

“Smile,” Tasha said to the two dead men.

“Ha. Ha.” MJ clicked off the shot and typed in a message. She pulled up the last number dialed, clicked to send.

Come and get us yourself, you bastard.

Chapter 21

MJ always thought playing with the gelatin-type treats she made for Angel was fun. It wasn’t quite as fun when she was the one jiggling herself. Her whole body shook like a pan of barely set gelatin as she followed Tasha up the stairs sans clothes and armed only with sneakers and a handgun.

It’d been a long time since MJ had killed someone. The last time she’d done it had been personal with Keith, but rarely was killing ever so close and personal as slicing a knife across a guy’s throat.

The unexpected experience sent MJ’s thoughts scattering, scurrying around from one topic to another. Being naked. Angel. Shaking. Angel. Close to death. Angel. Dead guy. Angel. Ben. Oh, there her thought caught a little snag. What would Ben say if he could see them now? She could pretend he’d say something about her hot body and totally ignore Tasha’s, but in reality he’d more likely say, “I told you so,” ignoring both their naked hot bodies.

Now her hands shook. No, damn it. No stupid stress reactions. She had to get out of this house without getting caught. No time for break downs. She forced air in her lungs and jerked her thoughts around to the task ahead of her.

Tasha paused at the top of the stairs, pressed her ear to the door.

“You think that panel closed again?” MJ asked.

“Sure as hell hope not.”

But it had closed.

“Shit,” Tasha said. “There’s bound to be a lever on this side, Mac went out and came back didn’t he?”

Tasha ran her hands over the wall. MJ, a couple of steps below her saw a brass lever by Tasha’s foot. “Look, down.”

Tasha stepped on the lever, the panel slid open. “Easy enough.”

“Had to be easy if Mac used it.”

“Don’t speak ill of the dearly departed.”

“Hmph. Such reverence from a killer.”

“You killed Mac, not me.”

“All right, play semantics if you want.”

“Shh,” Tasha motioned with her fingers before stepping through the panel. “Sounds like people are still in the room. Damn it. I need a shower.”

“You were going to take one here?”

“You’re not the one with wine and slobber and blood all over you, thanks.”
             

That would explain why Tasha carried her pants, which were still intact, instead of putting them on. That fact had really just registered with MJ, given her scattered thoughts of the last few minutes. “I see your point. You’ll have to tough it out until we get to the hotel.”

“I’ve been through worse. Is there a window in the bathroom?”

“Yes, but it’s a two-story house, you planning on jumping?”

Tasha pulled on her pants, then stuffed her gun in the waistband. “I’d rather not.”

MJ snooped through the cedar-lined cherry wood wardrobe. “What about these ties? We can make a rope.”

“That’ll work. Let’s find some clothes.”

The old guy certainly had enough clothes from which to choose. In a drawer of the wardrobe they found a variety of expensive Ralph Lauren polo sweaters. They each chose one, MJ blue and Tasha red, pulling them over white dress shirts. MJ found a pair of wool pants that almost fit. She tried on his costly leather belt, but there weren’t enough holes to make it fit. If she had a knife she could punch extra holes but the knife was downstairs, covered in blood. She tugged the belt out of the loops and threw it on the floor.

Tasha chose a leather jacket as an overcoat while MJ chose a thermal lined walking coat. After both of them slipped on their sneakers over a pair of thick wool socks two sizes too big, Tasha said, “Let’s get busy.”

With an ear toward the door, the two women tied fancy silk ties together to make a rope.

“That looks long enough.” Tasha walked into the bathroom, climbed on the toilet and looked out the window. “Thank goodness this room is on the back of the house.”

“Where’s our car?”

“Car. Where are the keys if we find it?”

“Damn.” The women looked at each other and said in unison, “medical bag.” It was still downstairs. Tasha flipped the lever and MJ ran back down the stairs, nearly losing the wool slacks on the way. She grabbed the medical bag, checked for the keys and sprinted back up the stairs. “Give me one of those ties,” she whispered, setting the bag down. “I need some sort of belt or my butt’s going to be naked again.”

Tasha tossed her a tie. “Can’t have that, we’re already going to attract too much attention in this neighborhood as it is.”

Someone laughed in the senator’s bedroom. “Hope no one needs to piss,” Tasha commented in a soft voice. She carried the makeshift rope into the bathroom. “Do you think the towel rack on the wall or the shower door will be sturdier?”

MJ picked up her pistol, stuffing it under her improvised belt and followed Tasha into the bathroom. “I think the toilet would be the sturdiest.”

Tasha studied the distance. “We don’t have enough to go around the toilet and reach close enough to the ground too.”

“Hang on, I have an idea.” MJ went back to the closet and grabbed the belt she’d thrown on the floor. In the bathroom, she looped the belt around the toilet base and fastened it. “Hand me an end.” She looped the makeshift rope through the belt and tied it off. “That gives us a little more rope now.”

“Good.” Tasha hopped onto the back of the toilet and unlocked the window. “Ready.”

“It would help if we knew where the car was. I’d like to get my backpack.” Not that it had anything traceable in it, but her own throwaway cell phone was in there and she wanted to call Dottie as soon as she could.

“Well, there’s good news and bad news,” Tasha said, looking out the window.

“What?”

“I see the car, that’s the good news. The bad news is it’s behind the pool house and I don’t see a way to get past all the security and officials that will be out front.”

“Then I definitely need my bag. I have a small tool kit might help me steal us a car then. Though I don’t know about this neighborhood. All the expensive new cars are hard to jack with the computer chips in the keys now.”

“We’ll cross that bridge later.” Looking out both ways, she dropped the medical bag then climbed in the window. “Maybe we’ll find an older car,” she said before she took the tie rope and climbed out.

MJ waited until Tasha reached the ground, then scrambled after. The silk ties felt more like a bungee cord the way they stretched. MJ used a rappelling technique down the side of the house.

“Damn, we’re going to be sitting ducks crossing this lawn to the pool house,” MJ said once they were on the ground, a wide expanse of green grass with no trees or shrubbery before them.

“Hopefully they’re all distracted.” Tasha picked up the medical bag. “Run.”

They sprinted across the manicured back lawn, skirted the pool and dashed behind the pool house. Tasha unlocked the trunk. “Grab your backpack.”

MJ looked around, there was no other way to drive the car off the property. Fences surrounded each side and across the back. “Looks like we’re leaving on foot.”

Tasha tossed the rental car keys inside. “This is another reason I never drive my own car.”

“Oh, had to leave on foot often have you?”

“You have no idea.”

“Which way?” MJ asked, then pointed toward the fences. Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Moe…”

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Hey, I have a toddler. This works as well as any.”

Tasha shook her head. “The back fence will get us away from the neighborhood faster.”

“Provided there are no big dogs,” MJ agreed.

“We have guns.”

“I don’t think these people would appreciate having their dogs shot.”

“Then they better not get in our way.”

“You, the dog lover?”

“I only love my dog.”

“Actually, I’d use the term dog loosely if I were you. More like a furry rat, nothing like a dog.”

They lightly threw jokes and insults, as easily as if they’d been long time partners. Strangest thing, MJ had never felt so close to Tasha in all the years they lived together.

The eight foot custom-designed wooden fence might have stumped them if they hadn’t had the backpack or medical bag. MJ took her backpack and jumped up to loop the strap over the pointed part of the fence post, while Tasha did the same with the medical bag.

“Hope the straps hold,” MJ said as she crawled up the fence like a climber on a mountain. She paused and peeked over the fence, saying, “No dogs,” before she swung over and dropped to the ground.

Dropping down beside her, Tasha nodded toward the house. “Motion detector cameras though.”

“By the fence, we should be out of range.”

Skirting the perimeter of the yard, they slowly worked their way toward the front of the house, keeping an eye on the camera. Unlike the senator’s house, this backyard was landscaped with trees and shrubs and flowers, a little easier to keep out of sight.

They scaled the locked gate with the same medical bag and backpack-as-a-rope trick that they used on the back of the fence. They stopped behind a large bush on the front corner of the red brick house, scanning the street. No cars in sight to steal, except . . . .

“Look,” MJ pointed. “A van.”

Two houses down a white van was parked out front.

“Dog grooming service?” Tasha read the scripted words printed on the side.

“Pick-up-and-delivery,” MJ confirmed. She pulled open the medical bag and tossed Tasha a pair of medical gloves so there would be no fingerprints. Pulling on her own gloves, MJ scanned the area. “All clear. Let’s go.”

“Can you start it?” Tasha asked as the sprinted from behind their cover.

“Piece of cake.” With all the unplanned exercise she was getting today, MJ was grateful she’d kept in shape. “I can use my screwdriver as a makeshift key.” Of course it would ruin the ignition switch but no help for that.

Longer-legged Tasha reached the van first. “Or we could use the key in the ignition,” she said, looking in the driver’s side window.

“That’ll work.”