“Some want more quiet and privacy,” Bess pointed out.
“Some do. He likes hiking, and doesn’t he make that poor woman go with him? And if he’s not dragging her off to hike, he’s closed up in his office. At least on the days I clean.”
“What’s he look like?” Reed asked her.
“I…” She wound the tip of her braid around her finger again, frowned. “Well, I couldn’t say, now that you ask. I haven’t laid eyes on him.”
Every muscle in Reed’s back tensed. “You’ve never actually seen him?”
“I have to say I haven’t, since you ask. I guess that’s strange, too. He’s been in the shower or the bedroom or that other bedroom whenever I’ve come by. Then they head out for a hike. I always start that place in the loft. And I’m done before they get back.”
“Pull up the booking,” he told Bess. “Have you met him?” he asked her.
“I don’t think so. He made the booking online. If I remember right, she picked up the keys and package because he’d been delayed a couple days. I’ve seen her around, but … Here it is. Brett and Susan Breen, Cambridge, Mass.”
“Well now, that’s strange, too,” Kaylee said. “Their car, a nice silver SUV, has Ohio plates.”
“Make, model, year,” Reed demanded.
“How’m I to know?”
“I don’t know the year,” Bess put in. “But it’s a Lincoln. My brother has one. I saw it when she came in. It’s silver, like Kaylee said, and it’s pretty new, I’d say.”
“Describe her,” Reed snapped at Kaylee.
“Ah, ah, she’s young and pretty in a made-up sort of way. I’ve never seen her not made-up even with her hair still wet from the shower. Can’t be more than around twenty-six or so. Blond hair, and I guess about my height. I think her eyes are blue, but I haven’t seen that much of her, either. Like I said, they go out when I’m there. She’s pregnant, that’s a fact.”
Not necessarily, Reed thought.
He yanked out a card. “Call this number, tell Special Agent Jacoby I need a full run on those names.”
“The FBI?”
“Now.”
He rushed out, yanked out his radio. “Matty, I might have something. I want you and Cecil to meet me at the Serenity beach rental. Don’t approach. Just watch. I’m getting my car, and I’m on my way.”
He beat them there. No car in the drive, he noted, no lights on in the encroaching dusk. He didn’t leash the dog as he circled the house. If trouble came, he wanted Barney to be able to run.
Through the windows he studied the great room, the open living, kitchen, dining areas. A pair of men’s hiking boots—from the size of them—stood by the door. Funny, he thought. A man who hiked routinely ought to put more wear on his boots. Those looked straight out of the shoebox.
A single plate, a single glass, sat on the counter by the sink.
He tried the door—locked.
He walked to the bedroom windows. Another solo glass—one side of the bed, and the pillows propped up on only one side. A single towel hanging over the doors of the shower, he noted. The door from the bedroom onto a small deck, also locked.
He walked down to the master bath windows—locked—but through them he saw makeup, a lot of it, scattered on the vanity counter—double sinks—with men’s toiletries shoved in a pile on the opposite side.
“You put on a good show, Patricia, but not good enough.”
He tried the back door before rounding the house to the second bedroom windows. He considered the drawn blackout shades, gave the windows a try, found them locked.
As he reached in his pocket for his penknife, he heard his deputies pull up. “Get out a BOLO on a Lincoln SUV, silver,” he ordered. “Ohio plates. And a blond female, mid-twenties, she’ll look pregnant. Go on around front and do that.”
Matty eyed him, eyed the shaded windows. “Are you planning to jimmy that window, Chief?”
“Around front, Deputy.”
She took out a hefty multi-tool. “This will do the job better and faster than that measly penknife you carry. Is the looks-pregnant Hobart?”
“We’re going to find out.” Reed took the multi-tool.
“Oh, shit. We’re going to break and enter?”
Without glancing back at Cecil, Reed worked on the window. “Get that BOLO in. If I’m wrong about this, we’re going to owe a pregnant woman and her paranoid husband an apology. If I’m not, I’m going to be doing a lot of dancing around probable cause.”
“Not unless you’re sloppy with the jimmying. That window was unlocked when we got here,” Matty said easily. “And the shade open just enough to see in. Nothing to see? No harm.”
Reed eased the window open a couple inches, pushed up the shade.
“My turn for holy shit,” Matty said as she peered in with him.
“Cecil! Suspect as described is Patricia Hobart. She’s armed and dangerous. I want the ferry shut down.”
“Shut down?”
“It doesn’t leave the island again until I clear it. Matty, I want a three-man team sitting on this house—out of sight. Nick, Cecil, and … Lorraine’s solid. Get that started. The rest of us, with our FBI friends, are going to start a manhunt.”
He pulled out his radio to begin coordinating when his phone rang.
“Simone, I need you to—”
“She’s here, at CiCi’s.” The voice breathless with fear turned his blood to ice. “I saw her—she’s blond, wearing a fake pregnancy belly. She’s—”
He heard wind, the whoosh of water, and the breathless fear in her voice. “Where are you?”
“Running. The beach, the rocks. I heard glass break, but she hasn’t come out yet. You need to hurry.”
“Take cover, stay down, stay quiet. She’s at CiCi’s,” he said as he ran for his car. “I want everybody to move in there. Nick and Lorraine out here, on this house, in case she slips through. Shut down the fucking ferry.”
As if he sensed urgency and trouble, Barney leaped through the open passenger window, but for once, didn’t stick his head back out.
*
CiCi nearly stumbled when they reached the beach.
“You’re faster. Go, baby. Go.”
“Save your breath. We just have to get to the rocks, get behind them.” She risked a glance behind. “She’ll think we’re in the house. She’ll have to look through the house first.”
Unless she looks out the big windows. Simone gripped the kitchen knife she’d grabbed on the run out. Run, she thought, hide. And when there was no choice, fight.
They reached the rocks, crouched down behind them. Water soaked through shoes, over ankles and calves; spray buffeted and chilled.
“Reed’s coming.”
“I know, baby.” Winded, CiCi struggled to find calming breaths. “You got us out safe, and he’s coming. Tide’s coming in.”
“We’re strong swimmers. And we may need to swim. She might see our footprints on the beach.”
Calmer now, determined to stay that way, CiCi shook her head. “It’s getting dark, that’ll make them harder to spot. If she sees them, if she starts down, I want you to swim out, swim toward the village. Now you listen,” she said when Simone shook her head. “I’ve lived my life, and done more than most with it. You do what I tell you.”
“We sink or swim together.” Simone risked a peek over the rocks, ducked down again. “She’s on the patio. Keep close to the rocks. The sun’s gone down, and the moon’s not up yet. She can’t see us.”
Knee-deep now, with the tug and pull of the surf dragging at them.
*
Reed saw the SUV a quarter mile from CiCi’s, took a turn at a speed that had his tires screaming nearly as loud as his sirens.
Hear that, Patricia? I’m coming for you.
*
She heard them, but she’d already started down the steps to the beach. Nine-one-one, bitch, she thought on a quick slice of panic. Full fucking circle. She considered making a run—maybe she could get to her car—but odds were against it.
Maybe she shouldn’t have had that drink before she walked down to the old hippie freak of an artist’s house, she could admit that. And maybe she shouldn’t have stood there watching that bitch and her Asian friend. The way they’d hugged and kissed disgusted her. Lesbians, no question.