Vanished in the Dunes (21 page)

“Close the case? Why would they do that? It'll only be your word against mine.”

“Yeah, but you'll be dead.”

Posner doesn't wait for an answer or plea. This is the man who stands in the way of another chance for him and Sara. Sara! He remembers. She could be here any minute. He raises the revolver as Stern puts his hands in front of his body in some surreal misguided attempt at evasion. Posner starts to pull the trigger, but he can't finish. And again, but it's not in him to kill. Then Stern is on him. They collapse into a rotating heap on the floor. The initial impact hammers Posner's skull enough to make him dizzy. They roll into the living room.

The fall jars the revolver loose from Posner's hand and it skips across the floor to the edge of the stairs. Stern scrambles for the gun while Posner half raises himself on two knees and shakes his head to
regain clarity. Stern picks up the gun, looks at it, and stuffs it in his inside jacket pocket. He's never held a pistol before and doesn't want to start now. He pulls a needle from another pocket and turns toward Posner but a voice distracts him.

The black Volvo pulls to a stop halfway up the driveway.

“Looks like Amos has a visitor,” Ed Whelan says with a nod to the white Chevy as he puts his car into Park.

“Actually, it looks like the Talbots' car, but it can't be. I know they've already left for a few months with their kids in Seattle, but I guess you'll find out soon enough.”

“Have a good weekend,” adds Frances. “And let us know if you'd like a lift back on Sunday. Just call. Oh, and say a big hi to Amos.”

“Will do. And thanks again,” answers Sara as she clutches a small duffel and closes the car door. She watches the Volvo slide back into the street, turn, and disappear down the block. She takes a long look at the white Chevrolet parked in the street then mounts the steps. She pulls out her key then hesitates and twists her head a bit toward the ocean only a half block away. She inhales a cool salty breeze and then another before she turns back to the door. The key turns in the lock and the door swings open.

“It's me, Amos. I'm home.”

Brigid's Audi brakes just fast enough to make the left turn onto Napeague Lane. Logistics necessitate that she move slower to check for streets and numbers. It doesn't take long. In a few minutes she sees the sign for Posner's street. She starts to make a right, and then stops abruptly as a black Volvo begins a turn out of the same street. A man and woman sit in the front. The man smiles and waves her on. She smiles back. The seconds-long interlude breaks her concentration. The car passes, yet she sits there for several moments. Then she moves forward down the block. There is a blue Lexus parked at the
top of Posner's driveway and a white car in the street off to the side. The thought flashes through her mind that if he has visitors, everything maybe ruined. The thought passes in seconds.

She pulls into the driveway and looks up just in time to see the front door slam closed as it smothers the sound of a woman's voice. She checks her face in the mirror.

“It's time,” she says aloud, swings the door open, slides her legs out of the car, and starts to walk the short distance up the driveway to where the Lexus is parked.

Wisdom puts the overhead on his unmarked Ford sedan as he tries to maneuver his way through East Hampton Village traffic. A few years ago the department resided in a small building closer to the East Hampton-Amagansett border. The newer and larger headquarters sits west of the village. If they hadn't moved, he'd be at Posner's house by now. He checks in with the cruiser, which seems to be as far away as he is, only from the other direction. At last the village falls behind and the road ahead clears. He presses down harder on the gas pedal and the enhanced Ford engine jumps ahead with a surge that pushes him back into his seat.

“Just a few more minutes. Stay where you are, Brigid. I'm coming.”

Brigid is about to cross over behind the Lexus when she hears a loud wail from the house. The sound mimics the primal rage of a cornered beast. Whether a man or woman, she can't tell, but she freezes and listens, mouth agape just as the front door flies open. A man races out of the house, trips briefly on the bottom step, recovers almost immediately, and begins a dash down the driveway. He's tall, well over six feet with brown hair. He wears a sports jacket that flaps as he runs. She takes all this in while standing just a few feet from the direct line of his path.

He sees her and skids to sharp stop. His eyes widen and his body shakes.

“Noooooo!” The word escapes him as if he were a wounded animal trapped by hunters in the back of a cave.

“Noooooo!”

One last look. The tortured face of someone beyond hope momentarily faces her. He turns and looks back over his shoulder as if followed by a ghost as he runs to the bottom of the driveway. He enters the white car. In seconds the air fills with the roar of an engine and the shriek of rubber.

It all happens in less than a minute. After the car leaves, she's aware that the howling from within the house hasn't stopped. She hesitates for a moment, then begins to walk quickly up the driveway. That's when she sees a flashing light approach the edge of her vision. No. Two separate sets of lights. Two cars. They arrive within seconds of each other. An official police car parks in the street, and the other car pulls up and stops behind hers.

She watches Wisdom exit the car and face the house. The sounds from inside still wash over them, but now seem more fragmented as if the wailer stops to draw breath every few seconds.

Wisdom motions to the uniform standing by his car some twenty feet below him.

“Stay with her. I'm going inside.”

He waits until the uniform arrives before trotting up to the entrance steps. Brigid follows his passage and sees that the front door is slightly ajar. Wisdom draws a pistol from somewhere under his jacket and gently pushes at the door. The volume of the sobs increase as the door swings fully open. She watches Wisdom lower his weapon and step through the doorway. He closes the door behind him and the sound almost disappears as if someone's just turned the radio volume down.

“Perhaps you'd be more comfortable in your car.”

The uniformed policeman is attentive and well spoken.

She thanks him and returns to the Audi. She lights a cigarette and turns the ignition key just enough to be able to open the window halfway down. She pinches a finger and thumb together to pluck an invisible speck of tobacco from her tongue. Another police car arrives followed by an ambulance. Within seconds, yet another car arrives. The driveway is now crowded with police. Two ambulance workers move up to the house together with an equal number of officers. They enter and leave the door open. The wailing sound starts up again for a few moments more and then stops abruptly. She smokes the cigarette down and lights another from the stump of the first. The air suddenly feels chilled. Even surrounded by the police, she feels somehow threatened. She starts the car, closes the window, and adjusts the heater. It is too cool for the pink-and-white dress she wears, and she's embarrassed by her show of cleavage.

After several minutes, she sees Wisdom emerge from the house. He says a few words to a small group of people who replace him. As he walks down the driveway, she leaves her car and meets him.

“What happened in there, Peter?” She's never used his first name before and the familiarity seems to give him momentary pause.

“Posner's wife is dead.”

“Dead?” She gasps and staggers backward a step. He reaches out and cups her elbow.

“I'm all right.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. What happened?”

“We found her just inside the front door. There was a large needle on the floor under her and Posner was rocking her in his arms. Whatever was in it acted right away. Posner's barely able to talk and the doctor just sedated him. The upstairs is a complete mess. They must have had some fight.

“Did
you
see anything?”

As he speaks, he gestures to a patrolman and makes a scribbling motion with his hand. The officer joins them and pulls out a pad and pen.

“I was in the driveway. Right next to my car. The one over there.”

She points to the red Audi, which is conspicuous as the only car in the driveway other than the Lexus amid the crush of police cars.

“This man comes running out of the house. He stops for a moment as he passes me. Shouts something. I think it was, ‘No,' then he runs down to his car and drives away.”

“Can you describe him?”

“Tall. Like you. Brown hair, I think. Nice looking. Around my age. I think he wore a jacket.”

“Did he speak to you?”

“No. I mean other than to scream, ‘No' a few times.”

“Do you remember the car he drove?”

“No. Only that it was white.”

“White?”

“Yes.”

“One last question for now. Did you recognize him?”

“No, but I think it must have been Heidi's boyfriend. The doctor.”

“Okay. I won't ask you now why you decided to go ahead with the masquerade we originally planned or how you found the address.”

“I'm sorry. Herr Weis helped me.”

“Of course. Herr Weis. Save us all from diplomats.”

He rolls his eyes as he speaks. The message that there's a difference between law enforcement and diplomacy is clear. “Then there's my friend and boss, Sergeant Rick Bennett. You conned him into telling you our local was Posner. Lucky for you that he called me about it right away.”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have.”

“As long as you're okay, but it might have gotten nasty.”

“I am truly sorry.”

“I said it was okay. And Bennett will be here soon to take over until we can pass it on to County. They handle capital-crime investigations. I'm sure they'll want to interview you.”

“I know. Can I go home now? I'm feeling a bit funny.”

“Are you all right? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“No. I think I should rest a bit. That's all.”

“Do you want me to send an officer with you?”

“No. I'll be fine.”

She shakes her head sideways and offers him her hand. He takes it and feels the moisture in her palm. He holds on and looks up. She's breathing rapidly. He can tell by seeing the movement in her chest.

“You'd better go home then and change out of those clothes. It's getting chilly.”

She looks down at her dress and folds her arms across her chest.

“Yes. You're right. Thank you again. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

Wisdom watches her get back into the Audi and waves two police cars away so she can back out. She raises a hand in thanks and turns down the block. He spends the next several minutes answering questions from various sources. The press arrives, and he asks that they be kept away from the house and that any questions be referred to County. He speaks briefly with Bennett who will be here with a
full local team within a few minutes. He walks back to his unmarked sedan at the foot of the driveway, stops, and strokes his chin before he calls a uniformed officer over.

“Drive over to the lady's house in Montauk and be sure everything's okay. Her name is Kashani. Dispatch has her address. It's on Old Montauk Highway. Just past Gurney's Inn.”

He watches the uniform drive away in a town cruiser. All he needs to do now is wait for Bennett to take over and find the doctor. He feels badly about Posner and his wife. He should have done more to warn him. Maybe he should have been there himself after he found out that Stern was hanging around.

But at least Brigid's safe.

The car sprints to seventy-five in seconds. Stern's hands squeeze the wheel in unconcealed fury. The Chevrolet flies down the eastbound highway toward Montauk.

“No. It wasn't her. She's dead.” He repeats the words over and over. The road ahead is clear, yet all he sees beyond the windshield is Heidi in the pink-and-white dress. Why didn't he stop when he saw her standing there? But maybe she wasn't there. What if it's all in his mind? Maybe she's out there buried in the Montauk Overlook like Posner said.

But what if he was just lying to torture me? What if she's not dead at all? Maybe she's been living here with him all this time.

“The bitch! I'll kill her. Right now. Today. The bitch!”

The car brakes with such suddenness that it skids into a double spin and comes to rest in the opposite breakdown lane of the momentarily deserted stretch of highway. He sits back and gasps. It could have been all over right there. No. He was spared because he still had one more urgent thing to do. But how?

“Concentrate! Think! Think!”

The answer, he realizes, rests back where he just came from. He reaches into his jacket pocket and removes the pistol he took from Posner. This will have to do. There are no more insulin syringes. He examines the weapon for the first time and becomes aware of its smoothness. The weight is less than he thought it would be. Probably
no more than a few pounds. Why was Posner unable to pull the trigger? Stupid bastard either didn't have the brains to cock the gun, or the balls to shoot it. If he had, I wouldn't be sitting here. I'd be dead and not that woman.

In some way it's Posner's own fault that woman's dead. Who was she? His wife? Another girlfriend? Too bad he didn't get to see her and Heidi meet up. That would have been some catfight. Heidi's tough. He's seen it a hundred times. But that other woman? That's just a coincidental accident. What the army calls collateral damage. Hell, when he heard her voice all he could think of was getting out of there. He would have too, and she'd be alive, if he hadn't tripped on the last steps and skidded into her with the needle.

It's too bad, but he doesn't feel sorry. He laughs aloud. Posner got what he deserved for being so stupid. He hefts the gun. He needs to be sure it will work. He looks down both sides of the road. He's still alone. He points the gun into the passenger seat cushion and squeezes.