Читать книгу The Coldest Fear - Debra Webb - Страница 13

Six

Something shuddered against her. Bobbie stirred, tried to open her eyes. Too tired. Again that vibrating sensation nudged her. Somehow she pried her eyes open. It was dark. Her heart galloped during the three or four seconds it took for her brain to register where she was.

Hotel. LeDoux.

How would she ever find Nick?

That damned shuddering again.

Phone.

She felt under the cover for her cell. The sound of the shower drew her gaze first to the empty sofa and then in the direction of the bathroom. Light peeked from the crack around the door. LeDoux was in the shower.

What time was it? According to the digital clock on the bedside table it was 6:40 a.m.

Focus, Bobbie. Check your phone.

Text message.

Do not trust LeDoux.

Bobbie blinked and reread the message. Her breath trapped in her throat when her sluggish brain registered the sender’s name.

Nick.

Get away from him! Now!

Bobbie threw back the covers and sat up. She pushed her feet into her sneakers and tucked her cell into her back pocket. She shoved her Glock into her waistband, snatched the charger from the wall, tossed it into her bag and headed for the door. Before walking out she glanced back at the bathroom. The water was still running. The urge to kick the door in and make LeDoux tell her the truth about his intentions assaulted her.

Now! Nick had urged her to hurry.

Bobbie unlocked the door and slipped out.

As badly as she wanted to run she forced herself to walk through the lobby and across the parking lot. She tossed her bag into the back seat of her Challenger, climbed behind the wheel and slipped her Glock into the holster she kept between the seat and the console. At some point she might need to resort to a different vehicle. Her Challenger would be too easy to track. Her chest tightened. The smell of Bauer’s blood still lingered inside it. I’m so sorry.

Taking her time, she rolled out of the parking lot. Instead of heading for the interstate, she drove across the street and pulled into the adjacent parking lot. She chose a spot behind a row of crepe myrtles. She shut off the engine and waited. It was just past seven, still dark.

She stared at her phone and waited for another message from Nick, but nothing came.

Where are you?

She hit Send and held her breath.

Seconds turned into minutes and no response came.

Fingers cold, she placed the phone on the console. Twisting around to dig in her bag, she found the small purse she’d tucked her driver’s license and insurance card into. She pushed it aside and fished through the clothes until she found her hairbrush and a hair tie. It took a minute to untangle her hair and corral it into a ponytail after going to bed with it still damp. Once she’d shoved the brush back into her bag, she relaxed into the seat and watched the street.

Another five minutes passed and then the trouble Nick had warned her about arrived. No blue lights or sirens came. Just the dark, nondescript sedans the FBI preferred along with two Atlanta PD cruisers.

“You son of a bitch.”

Had LeDoux set her up? If she found out he’d killed Zacharias and had relevant insights he was keeping from her, she would make sure he regretted it.

Bobbie scanned the parking lot around her and then the street just to be sure she was still alone. She had a perfect view of the hotel entrance and the official vehicles that had descended on the parking area. LeDoux would be dressed and looking for her by now. If he was the one who’d called in the troops, she would know soon enough.

She waited, the seconds and minutes ticking off like tiny explosions in her brain. 7:31 a.m. Still no movement across the street. Anticipation had her foot stretching toward the accelerator. She should just drive away, but she had to know for sure if LeDoux had betrayed her. If she left now she might never know.

Two months ago when they were both being held hostage by the Storyteller, LeDoux had drawn the danger from her, sacrificing himself to protect her in that run-down cabin in the woods. Why would he suddenly turn on her now? It didn’t make sense.

She glanced at her cell phone. Nick had not responded to her question. He didn’t want her to know where he was. He didn’t want her to get involved. Bobbie shook her head. Of all people, he should understand by now that she was inextricably intertwined in this. As much as he didn’t want her coming to his aid, Nick would never lie to her. For whatever reason, he believed LeDoux was up to something that was not in her best interest.

Bobbie trusted Nick completely.

The entrance doors of the hotel flew open and two of the suits who’d gone in earlier marched out, LeDoux between them. He wasn’t wearing handcuffs but it was obvious he was being escorted out of the building. Halfway to the first of the official vehicles LeDoux stopped and turned to the agent trailing behind him. Bobbie leaned forward to get a better look at the agent. Female. Blond hair tucked into an updo. There was no way to know what she was saying to LeDoux, but it was clear from the body language that the two were arguing.

For a few beats they stared at each other in what appeared to be some sort of standoff. Finally the female agent glaring at LeDoux reached into her jacket pocket and withdrew something. A cell phone, maybe? She offered whatever it was and LeDoux snatched it from her hand. After walking a few yards away, LeDoux held the device to his ear. Definitely a cell phone.

Bobbie’s cell rattled on the console. She jumped. She picked up the device and stared at the screen. LeDoux.

For the space of another round of urgent vibrating Bobbie split her attention between the phone in her hand and the man across the street. Finally, she accepted the call. “What do you want?”

“Listen carefully,” he said. “I don’t know how you got the heads-up that I’d been located, but for what it’s worth, I’m glad one of us is still out there.”

“Are you saying you didn’t know they were coming?”

He glanced over his shoulder. The agents waited, watching his every move. “What I’m saying is this is my one phone call.”

“Are you under arrest?” Had Nick received bad information? Or was this LeDoux’s way of keeping her trust? Wait. That wasn’t likely. He had no way of knowing she was watching, and those FBI agents damned sure didn’t appear to be playing.

“Go to 162 East River Street in Savannah.”

Another call beeped in her ear. Bobbie checked the screen. Didn’t recognize the number. “What’s in Savannah?” she demanded. How could LeDoux be sure the package the courier had picked up from the attorney’s house had anything to do with Weller or Nick?

There was a hesitation on the other end of the line. The female shouted at LeDoux, warning him that it was time to go. As Bobbie watched, she moved toward him.

LeDoux turned his back to the woman. “I lied to you, Bobbie. The courier sold me the package for a hundred bucks. Find Amelia Potter. You have the address.”

“Who’s Amelia Potter? Is she a distant relative of—?”

“Just go.” His free hand went up stop-sign fashion to halt the agent’s approach. “When I finish speaking to my attorney, you can have my phone back and I’m all yours,” LeDoux snapped at the woman.

The agent backed off but they were clearly running out of time. Bobbie cut to the chase. “What was in the package?”

“Only one item,” LeDoux said, turning his back to the agent once more. “A recent photo of Nick Shade.”

While Bobbie absorbed that information, LeDoux dropped his phone on the asphalt and crushed it with the heel of his shoe. The female agent grabbed him by the arm and pointed to the damaged cell phone, her face twisted in anger. Another of the agents gathered the pieces of the broken phone from the ground.

The suits loaded up, LeDoux in tow, and drove away. Atlanta PD followed. Why would Zacharias send a photo of Nick to someone in Savannah? Was this Amelia Potter a distant relative or the front for a hit man or maybe another serial killer? Bobbie’s phone vibrated and she dragged her attention to the screen. Voice mail. Expecting to find another lecture from the chief or someone from her major crimes team, she tapped the screen and listened to the voice mail.

“Detective Gentry, this is Lieutenant Troy Durham from the Savannah Chatham Metropolitan Police Department. We’ve reopened a cold case and we found your name in the detective’s notes.” Durham exhaled a big breath. “Frankly, we’re hoping you can help.” He hesitated for a moment before going on. “If you could give me a call I’d really appreciate it. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

The call ended. Bobbie stared at the screen. She couldn’t imagine why her name would be in the notes of a cold case in Savannah, but the call and the address LeDoux had given her couldn’t be coincidence.

Something was happening in Savannah and somehow it involved Nick.

And her.