The Next Accident - Lisa Gardner [133]
“How’d you kill her, Albert?”
“I . . . uh . . .”
“Gun, knife?”
“I shot her!”
“You poisoned her, asshole!” He felt a spark of anger, then checked himself, and said more sternly, “She received a care package in the mail, chocolates from her lover, laced with cyanide. Horrible way to die.”
“Stupid bitch,” Albert muttered. He was definitely uncomfortable now. His fingers drummed on the table.
“How do you think he’ll kill you?”
“Shut up!” His eyes shot to the clock.
“Poison? Or something more personal? You’re a liability, Albert. A big, fat liability who, thanks to Glenda, is in no shape to run and hide.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”
“Or did you forget that from the Sanchez case? Psychopaths can have partners, but partners are never equal. Miguel Sanchez lived. His partner, Richie, died on a prison floor with his balls crammed down his throat.”
Albert shot up from his chair. The movement jarred the supporting chair from beneath his injured leg and his cast fell heavily to the floor, making him yelp. Albert gripped the edge of the table to keep himself from falling, then glared at him with a face mottled with rage.
“You just fucking blew it!” he roared. “I was gonna tell you where your father is. I was gonna take pity on the pathetic old man. But not now. Now he can rot where he is, tied up, starving, shitting in his own pants and getting bedsores from his piss. How do you like them apples, you arrogant prick!”
“My father is dead,” he said quietly, though he really didn’t know that and his heart had begun to beat hard in his chest. This was the big risk. The life-or-death gamble. If he was wrong . . . I’m sorry. Lord have mercy, because I cannot. “My father is dead,” he repeated more forcefully. “We already found his body.”
“Impossible!”
“Would you like to go to the morgue to see him?”
“But he shouldn’t have washed up for days, not after all the weights we put on him.” Albert suddenly heard his own words. He drew up short, then burst out, “You tricked me. Goddammit, you ice-cold son of a bitch, you gave up on your own dad!”
“All in a day’s work,” he murmured, though his throat felt tight now. He had an ache in his chest. Montgomery was a monster. The UNSUB was a monster. God, he was sick of all of this.
“It’s over, Albert,” he said hoarsely. “You’re nothing but a liability now. You either talk to us, or you die for him.”
“You don’t know shit!”
“Tell that to Mary Olsen.”
“Dammit, I’m the one in charge here.”
“Then prove it! Tell us something we don’t know. Dazzle me!”
Albert froze. He suddenly smiled. He drew himself up straight. His gaze was on the wall clock again, but this time he made no attempt to hide it.
“Hey Quincy,” he said. “Here’s something interesting. Mandy wasn’t the first target. Mandy didn’t give up her family. Kimberly did.”
“What?”
“Oh, look at the time. Four-fourteen P.M. Why don’t you call your daughter’s hotel room, Quincy? Reach out and chastise Kimberly who’s staying right where Everett told me she would be. Oh wait, I’m sorry, you won’t be able to reach your daughter anymore. Four-fifteen P.M. Time’s up, Agent. And your daughter is dead.”
36
Portland, Oregon
When the phone on the coffee table finally rang, Rainie nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Shit,” she said, then glanced hastily over at Kimberly.
“Shit,” Kimberly agreed. One P.M. Much later than they had thought and they were both now wound too tight. Rainie scooped up the phone before it could ring again.
“Hello.”
“Rainie? It’s Luke. I got a problem.”
“What problem?” she said without thinking. Then her eyes widened and she motioned furiously to Kimberly. The girl got the hint and ran for her Glock.
“I’m not convinced this afternoon’s meeting is the way to go, Rainie,” the man was saying. “Maybe too risky. Can we meet ahead of time and talk about it?”
“My God, you’re a perfect mimic,” Rainie murmured. “If I didn’t know any better . . .”
“What’s that?” He sounded friendly and still so much like Luke Hayes that even knowing better, one part of her kept thinking