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“She was sort of pale, but looked good other than that. It was pretty cold yesterday so she was all bundled up in a thick coat, a big scarf around her neck and a wool ski cap, but I still recognized her, no problem.”

“Did you make any comment to her about how she looked familiar?”

“Oh, no, Agent Savich. I was really cool.”

Yeah, I bet, Savich thought, praying that he’d been cool enough not to alert Tammy that he was on to her. One thing-Teddi Tyler was still alive, and that meant Tammy hadn’t felt threatened, he hoped. Everything he’d told Savich so far was exactly what he’d told the local cops.

“I want you to think carefully now, Mr. Tyler. When she handed you the film, which hand did she use?”

Teddi frowned, furrowing his forehead into three deep lines. “Her left hand,” he said at last. “Yes, it was her left hand. She had her purse on a long strap hanging over her left shoulder. It was kind of clumsy.”

“Did you ever see her right hand?”

Again Teddi went into a big frown. “I’m sorry, Agent Savich,” he said finally, shaking his head, “I just don’t remember. All I’m sure about is that she stayed all bundled up-again no surprise, since it was so cold.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tyler. Now, a special agent will take your place behind the counter. Agent Briggs will be in soon and you can go over procedures with him.” Savich raised his hand, seeing that Teddi Tyler wanted to argue. “There’s no way you are going to face this woman again, Mr. Tyler. She’s very dangerous, even to us. Now, show me those photos.”

Savich took the photo envelope from Teddi and moved away from the counter to the glass front windows. The sun was shining brightly for a November day. It didn’t look like it was forty degrees outside. He slowly opened the envelope and pulled out the glossy 4x6 photos. There were only six of them.

He looked at one after the other, and then looked again. He didn’t understand. All of them were beach shots, undoubtedly taken in the Caribbean. Two were taken in the early morning, two when the sun was high, and two at sunset. None of them was very well done-well, that made sense since she had only one arm-but what was the point? All beach shots, no people in any of them. What was this about?

He held the photos up to Teddi. “Did she say anything about the photos? What they were? Anything at all?”

“Yeah, she said they were vacation photos she wanted to show her roommate. Said her roommate didn’t believe her when she’d said how beautiful it was down in the Caribbean. She had to prove it.”

If Tammy hadn’t lied, then Marilyn was alive. She wanted Marilyn to admire the beaches in the Caribbean.

He told Teddi Tyler to take off as soon as Agent Briggs arrived. As for Briggs, he was a natural retailer, experienced in undercover jobs. He was fast, a good judge of people’s behavior. Savich trusted him. Briggs knew how dangerous Tammy was, knew everything Savich knew.

They had three hours to get it all set up. There were three agents undercover near Marilyn’s boyfriend’s house just off Newport Drive. He doubted they would see either Marilyn or Tammy at the boyfriend’s house. Of course not, Savich thought, that would be too easy.

Savich left, drew the salty air deep into his lungs, and called Simon Russo on his way to the meet with the other agents. He hadn’t spoken to Russo or Lily in nearly thirty hours. He knew they were all right; otherwise Hoyt would have yelled out. Still, he wanted to know what was happening. He was worried about Lily, just couldn’t help it. He knew Simon would protect her with his life, knew Hoyt and the Eureka police were with them all the way. But still, she was his sister, and he loved her deeply. He didn’t want anything to happen to her. When he thought of what she’d already endured, he felt rage in his gut.

The more he thought about it, the more Savich worried.

He pulled his leather jacket collar up around his ears and dialed. Simon’s cell phone didn’t answer. Savich wasn’t about to second-guess himself and try to believe that the battery was dead. He immediately put in a call to Clark Hoyt.

23

Bar Harbor, Maine





Clark Hoyt answered his cell phone on the third ring. “Savich? Good thing you called. We can’t find Simon or Lily. Our guys have been sticking close to them, but when Lily wanted to go to the cemetery, everyone decided they’d be safe there, and so we agreed to give them some privacy. Jesus, Savich, they went after them in the cemetery!

“When they didn’t show up in an hour at Bender’s Café in Hemlock Bay, my agents called me, then drove to the cemetery. We found Simon’s rental car and one of the Frasiers’ cars in the parking lot. There weren’t any other cars around. We know Lily visited her daughter’s grave because the daffodils she’d bought were there.”

Hoyt paused.

“What is it, Clark? What else did you find?”

“Some blood on the front seats, Savich, just a trace, but there was blood on the parking lot cement, a good bit more. We’re testing it. We fucked up, Savich. Jesus, I’m sorry. We’ll find them, I swear it to you.”

Savich felt fear twisting in his belly, but when he spoke, his voice was controlled. “The fact that you found the Frasiers’ car there as well as Simon’s-were the Frasiers taken, too? Or were the Frasiers a part of it and just left their car there? If they plan to come back, then why would they leave their car next to Simon’s-that’s a sure giveaway that they were involved.”

“That’s what we think.”

“At least you didn’t find them dead. They’ve been taken. By whom?”

“We’re trying to track down the Frasiers, but nothing yet. They must be with Simon and Lily. Lieutenant Dobbs and I went to the hospital to see Te

Savich was hearing everything, but he wasn’t thinking a whole lot in that instant. He was flat-out scared. He wanted to leave Bar Harbor and fly immediately out to California, but he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t leave. It was that simple and that final. He said, “I’m not sure what I think right at this moment, Clark. And I can’t break free. I’m up to my eyeballs right now.” He drew a deep breath. “Actually, we’re about to confront a psychopathic killer right here in Bar Harbor, Maine, and I’m in charge.”

“Look, Savich, there are a whole bunch of us on this. We’ll find out who took them.”

Yeah, yeah, Savich thought, then said, “If this Olaf Jorgenson is behind this, we’re talking about a lot of resources, like a private Learjet here, with flight plans out of the country. It won’t be hard to find them.”

“We’re already on that. I’ll call you when we get something. Ah, good luck in Bar Harbor.”

“Thank you. Keep me posted.”

“Yes, I will. Look, Savich, I’m sorry. Dammit, I was supposed to keep them covered, keep them safe. I’ll do everything I can with this. I’ll call you every hour.”

“No, Hoyt, call me only if it’s an emergency for the next three hours. Otherwise, I’ll get back to you when I can.” Clark Hoyt didn’t know what nuts was, Savich thought, as he punched off his cell phone. He had to call Sherlock, tell her what was going on. Thank God she was home and safe. He didn’t want her to hear about Simon and Lily from Hoyt or Lieutenant Dobbs. He had two hours and forty minutes left to set up the operation. He walked over to Firefly Lane to the Bar Harbor Police Department. He knew he simply had to try to stop thinking about Lily and Simon now. He had to concentrate on killing Tammy Tuttle.