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‘I did,’ Diesel agreed. ‘And I have to admit, it was kind of hot.’
Scarlett started to scold him, then looked over at Marcus. He was nodding vigorously. ‘Very hot,’ he mouthed, and she swallowed her rebuke, giving Marcus a wink instead. Terrified for Gayle, he was holding on to his composure by a thread. If a little flirtation helped him, Scarlett could flow with it.
‘I’m pulling over now,’ she said, ‘and, Diesel, you are going to forget we ever had this conversation.’ By the time she’d stopped the car, the letter had arrived in her email inbox. She and Marcus huddled over her screen, studying the note while Deacon read it aloud.
When they’d finished, Scarlett frowned, completely disappointed. ‘It’s exactly as Gayle said. Dammit. Thanks anyway, guys,’ she said into the phone’s speaker. ‘I was hoping.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Marcus said. ‘Not so fast.’ He expanded her phone’s screen and glanced over at her with a smile of satisfaction. ‘Look at the return address. That’s not where the McCords lived. But it is about five miles from the entrance to the park where we’re supposed to meet Sweeney.’
‘Oh my God – do you think . . . Could she have put Sweeney’s return address on her letter?’ Scarlett asked. ‘Why would she? How would she even know it?’
‘She did it so that we’d check it out,’ Diesel said. ‘I bet Leslie McCord realized her and her hubby’s numbers were up and she wanted someone to know who’d done them in. As for how she knew the address . . . Maybe she’d visited, or even followed Sweeney after a meet. Anders took photos to cover himself. Maybe the McCords wanted a little insurance too.’
‘But why not just tell you?’ Deacon asked.
Scarlett got it. ‘Because she was worried about what would happen to her, but Woody was trying to cut a deal with the prosecution. She didn’t want any evidence floating around to indicate that her husband actually was guilty.’ She let out a breath of air, ‘So, let’s rethink our plan. We have a little more than an hour now. It is entirely possible that we’re wrong. If so, I want to be able to quickly punt back to plan A – meeting Sweeney where he specified. To that end, we should leave at least Adam in place. We can call Kate to meet us at the address Leslie McCord left us. If we’re wrong about Gayle being there, then Kate will be our backup.’
Adam Kimble had camped in that park and knew the layout, so they’d all agreed that he’d go ahead, scout out the area and find a tall tree with a good vantage point of the meeting place. Kate was a sharpshooter, so the base plan had been that she would accompany Adam, finding her own tree.
‘Adam and Kate should be at the park by now,’ Marcus said. ‘Let’s tell Kate to meet us at the McCord address.’
Scarlett nodded. ‘Kate can be our lookout while we search the place for Gayle.’
‘First priority is to get Gayle out, then find Sweeney,’ Marcus said. ‘I say we give ourselves until 11.30 to find Gayle. If not, I go to the meet as agreed, miked up so that you all can hear. If Kate can safely find a new tree in time, she should. Otherwise, she’s Adam’s backup on the ground.’
Once they had a visual lock on Gayle, they were to shoot Sweeney to injure, but not to kill. Not unless Sweeney did something stupid, like attempt a double-cross, and then all bets were off and Adam and Kate were to do whatever necessary to bring the bastard down.
Scarlett and Deacon were to remain far enough back so that their presence would go undetected. Unless, again, something went wrong with the trade, or Sweeney simply started shooting. Then they’d sweep in and, like Adam and Kate, do whatever needed to be done to stop him. Not allowing Sweeney to escape was the one thing they’d all agreed on. Either they brought him in alive or they took him down. Permanently.
Marcus gave Scarlett a frighteningly sober look as he added into the speaker phone, ‘And, guys, if it comes down to saving only one of us, choose Gayle. Promise me.’
There was silence on the line. Scarlett’s lips tightened. She wasn’t entertaining that as a possibility. If she did, she’d crack and be utterly useless to everyone.
Finally Deacon sighed. ‘All right,’ he said quietly. ‘But let’s pray this McCord address is the right place.’
Scarlett cleared her throat. ‘If it is the right place, we storm the castle instead of walking into a slaughter.’
‘Not to be too particular,’ Deacon commented, ‘but what exactly does storming the castle entail?’
Scarlett hesitated. ‘Assessing the perimeter first. We can at least check out the house and the property on Google Earth. Then we find a way in, find Gayle and get out.’
‘In other words,’ Diesel drawled, ‘you really have no flippin’ idea.’
‘Pretty much,’ Scarlett admitted. ‘We’ll play it by ear. It’ll be dicey, but at least we’re following our plan, not a response to his.’
‘I’ll contact Kate and Adam,’ Deacon said. ‘I’ll leave Adam in place and have Kate call you to coordinate. I’ll meet you at the McCord address in twenty.’
Cinci
Wednesday 5 August, 11.05 P.M.
‘The wall’s at least a hundred yards long on each side,’ Kate Coppola said as she jogged up to where Scarlett and Marcus stood next to the car they’d parked at the edge of the property to which Leslie McCord had led them. ‘Maybe half that widthways. Encloses about an acre.’
Kate had arrived ten minutes earlier and, her rifle strapped to her back, had attempted a perimeter check. Deacon was still ten minutes out. Scarlett checked her phone. They were very quickly ru
‘The wall is eight inches thick and ten feet high,’ Kate continued, ‘with high-voltage wire on top. There’s an iron gate at the end of a long tree-lined driveway. Remote-controlled. I didn’t see a guard shack inside, but my angle was bad so there could have been one.’
‘Cameras?’ Scarlett asked.
‘I counted at least sixteen of them on the side of the wall I could see, evenly spaced along the outer perimeter, and they’re active. The high-voltage wire is live. I climbed a tree and got a decent view of the interior, but none of the limbs extend over the walls, so there’s no entry that way. Good news,’ she finished, ‘is that with all this security, this is probably Sweeney’s place.’
‘But bad news,’ Scarlett said grimly, ‘is that it’s a fucking fortress.’
Marcus closed his eyes on a wave of palpable despair, but his voice remained strong. ‘Are you sure the wire fence is live?’
‘I could hear it humming,’ Kate replied briskly, but there was sympathy in her eyes.
He nodded, eyes open and alert once more. ‘What else?’
‘The wall itself only encloses the house and an attached garage,’ Kate said. ‘There’s a chain-link gate in the back wall that opens to the rest of the property. I didn’t run the entire perimeter, so I can’t tell you how many acres it covers, only that it’s enclosed by a twelve-foot chain-link fence, also high-voltage, also live.’
‘If the property database is correct,’ Marcus said, ‘the entire property is just under forty acres. I ran a quick check as we were driving here. The owner is listed as Ke
‘Ke
‘The age is about right too,’ Scarlett added, ‘assuming Ke
‘Did you get a photo of Ke
Marcus said. ‘Not yet. Deacon’s having Isenberg’s clerk search the DMV database. Spiegel still exists – as a name, anyway. He’s on record as paying the property taxes every year. He assumed ownership from Martha Spiegel – his mother – twenty-two years ago, when he was twenty-six. It appears this land has been owned by Spiegels for a hundred years. The primary residence is a six-bedroom, three-and-a-half-bath Tudor-style home with a six-car garage, just under four thousand square feet.’