“Oh, no. This was a message. Stay the hell away from Dean Casperson.”
“Except we can’t prove it.”
“That might be the one advantage we have,” Cab said.
“How do you figure that?”
“He’s arrogant enough to think there’s nothing we can do to him.”
“So what do you suggest?” Maggie asked.
Cab didn’t answer. He went around to the back of the Corvette and pried at the damaged trunk, which opened with a screech of metal. He dug inside and emerged with a look of triumph on his face. There was a bottle of wine in his hand.
“I always keep a bottle of Stags’ Leap in the back for emergencies. Thank heavens it came through unscathed.”
“You really are something,” Maggie told him. “But you haven’t answered my question. What do we do now?”
“First we go to my place and open the wine,” Cab said.
“And then?”
“You’re not going to like it. Remember, you’re still a cop, but I’m not.”
“Tell me,” Maggie said.
“The rich play by their own rules,” Cab replied, “so we need someone who’s willing to beat them at their own game. That’s why I sent Peach up there in the first place. We need to find someone who doesn’t care about the rules. We need someone who’s willing to cheat.”
25
Cat parked her Honda Civic in the parking lot of the Ordean-East Middle School. Her car was the only vehicle in the lot in the middle of the evening. She and Curt slipped out into the cold. There was no snow, but the gusty wind down the hill almost stole the gray trapper hat from her head. A recycling bin had been blown from someone’s garage and tumbled down the street; it rattled and rolled around on the asphalt. She shoved her hands into her coat pockets and pointed her face down, and they trudged to the corner.
Through the trees on the other side of Fourth Street, she could barely make out the corner of the red brick wall protecting the estate that Dean Casperson was renting. The wall followed Hawthorne Road up the hill. The intersection of the two roads was empty. They had the neighborhood to themselves.
“So now what?” Curt said.
Cat tapped her foot on the sidewalk as she thought about what to do next. “Do you think we can climb that wall?”
“I could boost you up. You should be able to reach the top.”
“Well, let’s see if anything’s going on over there first,” she said.
Cat headed diagonally across the intersection under the glow of a streetlight. She was on the other side of the street from Casperson’s mansion. It was dark here, sheltered by tall bushes. She took deep steps through the snow toward the corner house, which was a white Colonial with a green roof. Curt stayed close behind her. They followed the walkway in front of the house, crossed a plowed driveway, and ducked quickly through the snow in the open yard until they reached the next house. They took shelter behind a tall arborvitae.
From there, they had a vantage across the street to the gated driveway at Casperson’s estate. Lights glowed on either side of the brick columns. A sedan was parked on the street, and its windows were clouded with steam. Every now and then they could see an arm wipe the front window. A guard was watching the gate.
“I don’t think he’s going to invite you inside, kitty cat,” Curt said.
Cat unzipped her coat and grabbed the binoculars that hung around her neck. She put them to her eyes and focused on Casperson’s estate. The angle was wrong to see the house. She could make out the curving driveway and the detached garage, but a stand of evergreens blocked all the windows.
“What can you see?” Curt asked.
“Nothing. This isn’t working.” Cat tapped her foot impatiently again. “What if we sneak into the house that Haley Adams used? She had a view into Casperson’s place. You said you got in there when you were looking for the telescope, right?”
“I barely got out, too. They’ve got private security checking on the place now.”
Cat frowned. She noted the time on her watch and peered through the binoculars again.
“It looks pretty quiet over there,” Curt added. “There’s no party tonight. I’d know.”
“Let’s give it a few more minutes.”
“Okay, but if we’re out here much longer, it’s going to take a blowtorch to thaw out my junk.”
Cat giggled. “You’re on your own with that.”
They stayed where they were, shivering in the cold. The night was silent. Across the street, Casperson’s place remained peaceful. No cars came and went; no one approached the gate. She began to think that Curt was right and Dean Casperson was spending the evening alone.
At ten o’clock, she decided it was time to go.
They backtracked through the snow, but before they broke out of the bushes, headlights shone from the southern direction on Hawthorne Road. Cat held up a hand to stop Curt where he was. She watched as a white limousine glided up the hill from the lake and stopped in front of Casperson’s estate. The security guard got out of the sedan and checked the car and then pushed a button to open the metal gate. The limo backed up, navigated the tight turn, and then drove inside and parked near the front door.
“Hang on,” Cat said. “Who is that?”
She scrambled to focus the binoculars. Inside the gate, it was almost impossible to see details. Then, as the rear door of the limousine opened, she saw someone get out. Just one person. The glow from the interior light of the long sedan was enough to make out the face, and Cat recognized her.
It was Aimee Bowe.
Aimee stopped outside the car as if frozen. Her long coat draped to her feet. Her hair blew across her face. Oddly, she looked back toward the gate and the darkness, almost as if she were staring directly at Cat. There was no way she could see her, but Cat felt as if their eyes had met. In her imagination—and it had to be her imagination because she was too far away—she thought she saw Aimee’s lips moving. Sending her a message.
Save me.
Aimee walked around the car to the front door, which was open for her, and then disappeared inside the house.
“I have to get over there,” Cat said.
“What? Are you kidding, kitty cat?”
“There’s going to be trouble. I know it.”
Cat didn’t wait for Curt. She took off running. She bounded downhill through the snowy front yards to the intersection. At the corner, she crossed the street and ducked inside the trees that sheltered the wall surrounding Casperson’s estate. The top of the wall was more than a foot over her head.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Curt asked, arriving behind her.
“Help me get over the wall.”
“You sure about that? This is a bad idea.”
“I’ll be careful,” Cat said, “but I have to make sure Aimee’s okay.”
“I don’t know. I’m already pushing my luck with the cops. If they catch me inside, I’m screwed.”
“You stay here,” she told him. “I’ll go.”
Curt heaved a sigh of resignation, and Cat kissed his cheek in gratitude. He squatted in the snow and laced his gloved hands together to form a step. Cat put her boot on his hands, and he hoisted her up until she could grab the top of the wall and swing her other leg over the mortar. She straddled the wall and stared down at the other side, where the ground looked far away.
She was about to jump when headlights swept across her body like a searchlight. Quickly, she flattened her torso along the top of the wall, and Curt took cover among the pines. Looking back, she spotted the white limousine silently disappearing through the intersection and continuing down the hill.
It didn’t slow down. No one had seen her.
Cat called to Curt in a hushed voice. “Wait for me. I won’t be long.”