Huff rattled off an address that surprised him. “What are you doing in the warehouse district?”
“Black has a second job down by the docks. That’s where we finally located him.”
No wonder he hadn’t been answering. Romain jogged toward his truck. “Do whatever you can to get him to talk. If we don’t find her soon, I’m afraid it’ll be too late.”
You little chickenshit. I knew you’d back down.
Valerie wasn’t anywhere close, yet Gruber still heard her voice—and chafed at the way he envisioned her looking at him after that conversation with Fornier. She thought he was weak, but he was man enough to kill Romain. He just didn’t need to.
Peccavi would take care of it.
You’re nothing compared to Romain.
“That isn’t true,” he spat. He’d gone to Romain’s place, intending to kill him, hadn’t he?
That was when you thought you could surprise him. And stab him in the back, like you did that poor bastard cop.
“Shut up!”
He’d raised his voice so loudly a solitary woman wearing a yellow rain slicker shortened the leash on her poodle in order to give him a wide berth. He had the impulse to push her and her dog in the river, where he’d dumped the cop’s body an hour ago. With the cold, drizzly weather and the late hour, there was no one else around to stop him. But he had too much riding on tonight to take any further risks.
He’d abandoned the cruiser across town, caught a bus home and driven Jasmine’s rental car here, with the cop’s body in the trunk. Now that he’d dragged the corpse to the water and shoved it beneath the pilings of the wharf, all he had to do was ditch Jasmine’s car and get another bus home. He was nearly done; there was no need to jeopardize all his hard work.
Curbing his impulse to follow the dog owner and make her pay for her haughty attitude, he tossed Jasmine’s cell phone in the water. He didn’t want to hear it ring again, didn’t want to be bothered. Especially by Romain Fornier.
But that didn’t prevent other calls. His own phone jingled a moment later.
The screen indicated No Caller ID.
“Hello?”
“Do you have her?”
It was Peccavi. Gruber hesitated. If he said yes, Peccavi would get involved, and Gruber wanted to avoid that. He wanted Peccavi to punish Romain for belittling him, for making him feel the lesser man. And he wanted Jasmine to himself. “Not anymore. She’s history.”
“Permanently?” Peccavi clarified. “You’re sure?”
“That’s not easy to mistake.” The last time he’d lied to Peccavi, he’d gone too far with Adele, done some things even he couldn’t believe. But she’d been so defiant, so much like her father. It’d be different with Jasmine. Kimberly had been docile and sweet. He’d spent two weeks with her, hadn’t even touched her, not in the way he’d wanted to, and yet he’d fallen in love. He’d often regretted that he hadn’t found some way to keep her for himself. The older sister wasn’t half as sweet.
“What’d you do with the…remains?” Peccavi asked.
Finally able to forget the woman with the dog, Gruber headed up the embankment, away from the path that wound close to the river. “Alligator bait.”
He expected Peccavi to be grateful but, if he was, he didn’t show it. Where was his gratitude? God, he was getting tired of Peccavi, tired of his demands and conceit.
“We have another problem,” Peccavi said.
Gruber’s mood darkened. “What is it?”
“Beverly Moreau is talking.”
He froze as he reached Jasmine’s car. “How do you know?”
“She called the police.”
The magnitude of this hit Gruber like a punch to the gut. If Beverly had informed on him, the cops would beat him to his house. They’d probably been there already, trying to figure out what had happened to Officer Ambrose. But without any sign of their missing officer, they’d have no reason to enter. They’d wait until he got home and try to talk to him. Unless someone had sent them there, unless someone gave them reason. “Do we need to get out of town?”
“No, we’re okay for now. A friend of mine took the call—a friend who’s been hoping to buy a boat,” he said.
“Kozlowski?”
“No need to name names.”
Gruber let go of the breath he’d been holding. Of course it was Kozlowski.
They’d bribed him before. “But do you think she’s told anyone else?”
“No one. He promised he’d be in touch, told her not to breathe a word to anyone else or it could get back to me.”
“Do you want me to pay her a visit and shut her up?” Gruber realized this would require considerable time, but providing they were safe from the police, Jasmine wasn’t going anywhere. He’d never liked Beverly, anyway. He’d always known she’d sell him out in a heartbeat if she had the chance. She cared only about Phil and Dusty, had never really included him the way her husband had tried to.
“That’s exactly what I want you to do. As soon as possible. Then I have something I want to give you.”
“What is it?”
“A bonus,” he said. “Something you really deserve.”
Finally, he was getting the recognition he should’ve had years ago. With a smile, Gruber started the engine and switched on his windshield wipers. “I’m leaving now.”
“Let me know when it’s done.”
“What about Fornier?”
“What about him?”
The windshield wipers moved rhythmically as Gruber pulled into the street.
“He’ll come after the Stratford woman. We have to get rid of him.”
“You don’t have to worry about Romain. I’ll take care of him and call you later.”
Chapter 23
When Romain arrived at the address Huff had given him, he parked in an alley beneath the narrow eaves of a tin building. He was about to climb out when the phone Huff had lent him rang.
Anxious for any word from Jasmine, he stayed where he was to avoid the rain and answered it immediately. “Hello?”
“Mr. Fornier?”
It was a woman, the voice unfamiliar to him. “Yes?”
“This is Mrs. Black. You left your number wedged in the crack of my screen door and asked me to call you about the young lady who came by earlier.”
Pearson Black’s mother. “Yes. Thank you for calling. That young lady’s gone missing, Mrs. Black. It’s very important that I find her as soon as possible. Do you have any idea where she might’ve gone after speaking with you?”