In the Running Read online

  “I can’t believe it was that easy. We’ve got Jon’s laptop!” Reenie exulted.

  “Looks like we’ve got some of his records, too,” Matt chortled. “I can’t wait to get at them.”

  The lower edges of the dark sky were beginning to take on a pearly cast when they finally made it to the marina. The dogs greeted them enthusiastically and followed them to the base of the outside stairs. The Shepherds milled around and tried to accompany them up to their apartment.

  “Not tonight, girls,” Matt told them. “Go on. Chase a raccoon.”

  He sent the reluctant dogs on their way with a crisp hand signal. Lotte stopped a few feet away and whined at him.

  “Get moving,” Matt told her, pointing along the path of their usual patrol. The dog obeyed.

  After trudging wearily up the stairs that seemed twice as steep as usual, Reenie unlocked the sliding glass doors. Matt carried the precious carton and deposited it inside the doorway of his room before turning to Reenie.

  “It’s been a long, long night, sweetheart,” Matt said, taking her in his arms.

  “And you didn’t spend it sitting on a metal roof!”

  Standing in the doorway, leveling a snub-nosed Smith and Wesson .38 at them, was an uncharacteristically disheveled and disgruntled Walt Ames.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Reenie thought of Matt’s revolver, tucked in the back of his belt, and of the one they’d taken from the man at the lodge which was lying in her purse. Both weapons were useless while the one in Walt Ames’ hand was aimed directly at her head.

  “I assume you’re carrying,” Walt said to Matt in a weary voice. “Raise your hands both of you. Step apart.”

  She felt the muscles in Matt’s shoulders tense as if he was about to leap between her and Walt but, apparently, he decided to bide his time and raised his hands above his shoulders.

  “Hands on the wall, Matt,” Walt said quietly.

  Keeping his revolver aimed at her, he lifted the back of Matt’s jacket and pulled the gun from his waistband, shoved it into his own, then waved them towards the sofa.

  Was he planning to shoot her here? Jon had gone to a lot of trouble to make people believe that Maura Fitzpatrick might take her own life. Reenie doubted that Walt wanted to spoil that plan. He was probably going to hold them here until Wilson or someone arrived to take them someplace else to stage the suicide.

  And they would have to kill Matt.

  Walt was only a few feet away. If she made a sudden dive at his knees, she might be lucky enough to knock him off balance. Matt was still close enough to Walt to overpower him. There was even a chance she wouldn’t get killed. First, she had to ease around the corner of the table that was between her and Walt.

  She moved a couple of steps to her left in the general direction of the sofa. Matt feinted a move to join her but, with a lightning shift, lashed out with his left foot and knocked Walt’s gun to the floor. He leapt on top of him and twisted his arm up between his shoulder blades.

  “Get his gun, Reenie,” he snapped.

  She hurried to do as he asked and placed the weapon in his outstretched hand.

  “The tape is in my right hand jacket pocket,” he told her. “Tear off a piece about a foot long.”

  While Matt bound his wrists, Walt protested volubly. “Hanson, for Christ’s sake, stop. I think you broke my wrist. You’ve got this all wrong.”

  Matt gave the tape a final tug and Walt gasped with pain. “Damn it, man. I’m with Internal Revenue Service. My ID is in my inside pocket.”

  Matt pulled Walt into a sitting position, removed a leather folder from the pocket of Walt’s denim jacket and glanced at it.

  “If you’re IRS,” he said, curtly, “why the gun?”

  “I read your file. And after a night perched on the dormers up there, I wasn’t in the mood to tangle with you before we talked. Sorry if I frightened you, Maura.”

  “Don’t believe him, Matt,” Reenie said. “He’s worked for Jon for years.”

  “Two,” Walt agreed.

  Walt’s hazel eyes met Matt’s black ones steadily. The two men seemed to be taking each other’s measure. Then, for some reason, Matt seemed to see something reassuring in Walt’s gaze.

  “Let’s say you are with the IRS,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Can you take the tape off my wrists?” Walt turned onto his side. “The right one hurts like hell.”

  “Maybe after you convince me you are who you say you are,” Matt told him.

  Reenie glared at the indignant man on the floor. “That phony-looking badge doesn’t make you one of the good guys. You were in the room with Jon and Wilson when they killed Danny. I saw you.”

  “Yes, I was there. But, for your own sake, you’d better believe me, Maura. You have no idea what kind of trouble you’re in. I’m your best bet to get out of it. We can help each other.”

  Gone was the urbane, overly charming public relations man. This man was hard and direct. Even sitting on the floor, his hands bound, hurting, he exuded authority.

  “Here’s the situation. The minute they identified Danny’s body, it all hit the fan. Sal Gerardo called Jon on the carpet this morning. He’s put a lot of time and money into Jon’s campaign and doesn’t want it to go down the tubes. But he didn’t buy the story that Jon had no idea how his partner ended up in Lake Michigan. Sal’s decided that you have the answers. Your disappearance at the same time as his nephew was killed is too much of a coincidence for him. So he’s put a bounty of twenty thousand dollars on your head if you’re brought in alive. Jon’s desperate. And he’s hired extra men to join the search and see that that you’re not.

  “To top it all off, some woman called the hot line late this afternoon saying if we wanted to find Maura Fitzpatrick all we had to do was ask Matt Hanson. I happened to know she was right on the money so I made sure I got here before anyone else gets the word.”

  The fragile sense of security that Reenie had gained shattered into a million pieces. Her situation was even worse than she’d thought.

  “Who knows about this?” Matt snapped.

  “I’m the only one,” Walt told him. “I erased that call. One of the office staff brings me the tapes to sort through at the end of the day. I pass on the few likely leads to Jon. There were twenty-eight sightings reported today and that call was no more convincing than most of the others. Since your phone call from Wisconsin last Thursday, I’ve been aiming Jon’s boys in that direction.”

  Walt looked at them accusingly. “Where did you go tonight after you got rid of Jeff? I almost broke my neck getting here from Lansing at the right time to avoid the dogs and sneak in here to warn you.”

  Matt looked as if he might be willing to tell him about their midnight trip to the lodge but Reenie didn’t trust this new Walt. She known him too long as Jon’s publicity man, trailing along behind his boss, full of ingratiating smiles.

  “You did recognize me last week,” Reenie accused him.

  “I wouldn’t have if you’d had those brown contacts then.” Walt shook his head in disbelief. “Those fabulous blue eyes were all that gave you away. You don’t look anything like the Maura Fitzpatrick I knew. I couldn’t believe my luck when I recognized them. We need you, Maura.”

  “Reenie.” She still didn’t trust him, but being called Maura bothered her. Maura had no future. Reenie had a faint hope.

  Walt flashed a look at Matt’s grim face. “Reenie,” he agreed. “If we’re going to nail Casen and Gerardo, we need your backup testimony about Danny’s killing and the evidence that Danny said he got from the Fitzpatrick safe. I assume you still have it.”

  “Before you say anything about that, sweetheart,” Matt broke in. Apparently, he still had a few doubts of his own. “I’ve a couple of questions. To start with, are you working alone on this or are the FBI’s antiracketeering guys looking for Reenie, too?”

  “You two are the only ones apart from my immediate boss who knows my assignment. The
fewer agencies involved, the smaller the chance that someone might warn Casen or Gerardo that we’re closing in on them.”

  “O.K. Next, how did you get so tight with Casen so fast?”

  “It wasn’t all that fast. Jon and I grew up in the same neighborhood. In those years, I doubt if we ever said a dozen words to each other. He’s three years older and that’s a lot when you’re in school. Besides I was the kind of kid who faded into the woodwork while Jon hung around the fringes of the gang of toughs that Danny ran with. When I met Jon again in law school, he’d made himself over completely. He was the epitome of a clean living, middle class liberal. Not that we had much in common then either. He was involved in too many protests that didn’t interest me at the time.

  “A couple of years ago, the Justice Department became interested in Jon’s activities. They knew my background because I’d worked for them for a couple of years after law school. Anyway, somebody over there got the idea that after I designed a campaign that got Susan Marcovitch into Congress, Jon Casen would jump at the chance to get me to handle his political career.

  “It was Gladys Fitzpatrick who recommended that Jon hire me as National Chairman of GEL. And, of course, to handle his public relations with a view to getting him elected to the state legislature.”

  “You mean, Gran knows who you are?”

  “No. No. We got one of her political cronies to maneuver her into thinking that hiring me was her idea.”

  That made sense. Gran was all too easy to manipulate these days. Reenie met Matt’s eyes. Walt was very convincing. Matt gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Walt, who was watching the silent interchange, exhaled loudly.

  Matt cut the tape. Reenie got some ice from the kitchen to put on Walt’s wrist.

  “Even if Danny and Jon were laundering dirty money at the lodge,” Reenie said, when Walt was seated at the table holding the improvised ice bag to his wrist, “I’m surprised the IRS would send a man undercover for two years for the amount of money involved.”

  “That’s only part of the story,” Walt said. “But don’t fool yourself about the amount of money. A five star operation, with top entertainment in the bars, like the Driftwood at the peak of high season could deposit a good six hundred thousand dollars a week. Inflated numbers might make that eight or nine hundred. Easily two hundred and fifty thousand per week could be laundered.”

  “What’s the going rate for laundering these days?” Matt asked. “Seven per cent?”

  “As high as ten if the money’s really hot. At seven, that’s clearing seventy thousand a month. But what we’re really interested in is the money that flows through GEL.”

  “You shouldn’t have any trouble getting evidence of that. You’re the national chairman,” Reenie exclaimed.

  “I mostly look after publicity and lobbying from the head office in Lansing. Unfortunately, my position doesn’t involve bookkeeping. In fact, the fund raising and all the accounting is done in the big Detroit office. GEL does well with receipted donations and they get millions of dollars in anonymous contributions. Jon is known as GEL’s spokesman and founder. He finds the environmental causes, many of them in third world countries where a lot of money is supposedly spent.

  “I was attached to Jon to get actual records of that money and, if possible, verifiable ties to Sal Gerardo and a couple of other big players. The lodge is small potatoes compared to that.

  “We were about to move in on Danny when it all went wrong. We had him dead to rights and had plans to use him to get the goods on Jon and maybe even Sal, but we didn’t count on Jon being stupid and greedy enough to steal from Danny. Or to get caught at it. You know what happened when Jon refused to let Danny blackmail him into giving his money back.”

  “But Jon trusts you. Why couldn’t you get information from the Detroit office?”

  “I’ve been working on expanding my role in GEL but not fast enough. Jon trusts me as his political advisor. He’s told me straight that he’s getting quiet financial backing from Sal Gerardo as well as support in established political circles from your grandmother. But that’s as far as it goes. He doesn’t talk money to me. By the way, I’m pretty sure your grandmother doesn’t know that Jon is taking Sal’s money.”

  “How many men does Casen have looking for Reenie?” Matt asked.

  “Until noon today, only Wilson and me. After the mess-up with Danny, he didn’t want to use anyone who might talk to Sal. After his talk with Sal today, however, he called a couple of old buddies from Detroit. Only two - that I know of.”

  “What happened after I left, Walt? Does Jon know I have the pictures and the rest of the papers?”

  “You do?” Walt’s face brightened. “Jon was sure you did when we found the wadded-up photo of him with the blonde on the floor outside Danny’s office Sunday night.”

  “How long did it take you get out?”

  “That was a smart move.” Walt’s appreciative grin looked sincere. Maybe he really was on their side. “Wilson had to take the door off its hinges. You’d gotten away by the time Jon and I took off after you.

  “We found your car in the airport lot, but no one remembered selling you an airline ticket. So we went back to the lodge and tore it apart looking for the negatives and the papers Danny had shown Jon copies of. When he found the check you’d cashed in the safe, he assumed that’s where you found the originals.”

  “What possessed him to draw attention to Reenie’s disappearance with that kidnapping story?” Matt asked.

  “Jon comes across as a lot brighter than he is. He was sure she’d contact her grandmother and he needed a reason to stay at Gladys’ side so that he could intercept Maura’s .. I mean, Reenie’s calls. He’s devious and has a lot of charisma; but, basically, he’s works more on instinct than logic. According to Jon, if you can dazzle the opposition with footwork, you’ll have a chance to land a lucky punch and win the fight. That makes his actions hard to predict.”

  “But not impossible,” Matt growled.

  “Anyway, first thing Monday morning, he told Gladys that he’d met you for an early dinner, Reenie, before he started out for Lansing. You had too much to drink and when some waitress came on to him, you flew off the handle and left saying he’d be sorry for the way he treated you. Gladys checked that you hadn’t arrived during the night as she’d expected and started to phone anyone who might know where you were. When she’d run out of friends and hospitals along the route to Lansing, she called the police.

  “When Jon found that out, he had Wilson call her saying you’d been kidnapped and that if she wanted to see you alive she had to get Jon to withdraw GEL’s request for an injunction. Wilson said he’d be in touch with further instructions. Of course, Jon had no intention of anyone ever following up on that.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone risking getting the FBI involved for no real reason,” Matt said.

  “And worrying Gran like that,” Reenie said under her breath.

  “Jon was delighted with himself for setting up your death in advance and misdirecting suspicion towards the chemical company. He also now had a perfect reason to stay with Gladys and intercept any calls from you. The police have you listed as a missing person but he’s confident that we’ll find you before they do.”

  “He leaked that rumor to the media,” Reenie muttered.

  “He told me to make sure Barbara Bellman got the word indirectly. It was my idea to set up the hot line that I can control. I needed to get to you before Jon did. Of course, I didn’t know I’d stumble across your hiding place before the line was even functioning. How did you end up here? And where did you get that spectacular shiner?”

  “Speaking of injuries,” Matt interrupted, “are we going to have to get that wrist x-rayed?”

  “I don’t think so,” Walt said, rotating it gingerly. “You’ve got a lethal foot there, Matt, but I think it’s just bruised. I want to hear about how you got all those interesting colors on your face, Reenie.”

  Reenie’s eyes
were drifting closed before she finished telling Walt the story.

  “That’s enough for all of us,” Matt decided. “Reenie’s dead on her feet. It’s almost dawn. No one else is going to turn up here in the next few hours. Why don’t we get some sleep? We’ll all think more clearly.”

  She opened her mouth to say they had to start examining the files in Jon’s laptop, then closed it. Matt was right. She turned back to Walt instead.

  “How long are you planning to stay?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure. I told Jon I’d be on the move for the next couple of days checking out leads from the hot line and that I’d call him if any of them panned out.”

  “There’s a bed made up in the other bedroom,” she said.

  “Where’s your car?” Matt asked.

  “I parked it in that grove of trees down by the far boat ramp,” Walt told him.

  “There’s space in the back boat storage barn. We don’t want Jeff to see your car.”

  “I didn’t like to pull that stunt on him last night, but I had to get past the dogs.”

  “You’d better hope he never figures out you were responsible. Come on. I’ll show you where to park and introduce you more formally to Lotte and Berta so that they’ll accept you.” He turned to Reenie. “Why don’t you go ahead to bed, Reenie. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

  The long day and night had taken its toll. When Matt came to their bed not half an hour later, Reenie was sound asleep. She snuggled into the curve of his body but didn’t surface from her deep slumber until the clock radio exploded in a blast of twanging banjo chords at nine-thirty.

  He swore and swatted at the snooze button.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling her back into his arms. Matt wished he could keep her half-asleep and warm in his embrace, but that wasn’t possible. He had a strong sense that time was running out. He sighed deeply and released her. She stretched and peered at him out of one endearingly sleepy, blue eye.