Class Act

50

Jack Coulter lay in his bed and stared at the ceiling. The bedside clock showed 2:45 am, and he was trying to think of a reason why Cara hadn’t called. He thought of calling Stone, but what could he do? He’d just have to wait until morning. And try to sleep.

Hilda drove up the Keys to Key Largo, then turned north and made her way into the Everglades. The moon was bright enough that she could drive with only her side lights on. Somewhere north, she found a dirt road snaking off to her left. She turned on her headlights and drove slowly until she came to a shack on a river. It sported a sign: live bait, and there was a dock beside it where a couple of small boats were moored. She got a small but powerful flashlight from her bag and played it over the water. It was tidal, and the tide was coming in.

She dragged Cara’s body from the car out onto the dock, then sat and rested for a moment. Next, she ripped off the duct tape, wadded it, and threw it into the water, watching it float upriver with the tide. Finally, she dragged the body to the edge of the dock and rolled it into the water. It went under for a moment, then floated to the top. When it emerged, it was a few feet upstream, then it kept going. Hilda heard a couple of splashes from farther up, then some thrashing.

She then carefully folded the plastic sheeting, found some stacked bricks beside the shed, put three of them into Cara’s bag, and tossed it into the water. She got back into the car and retraced her steps to U.S. 1. After she had passed Cutler Bay, she stopped at a convenience store, used the restroom, then filled up with gas. While the pump was running she took the folded plastic sheeting from the trunk and deposited it in the trash can. Then she was on her way to the Florida Turnpike, thence to West Palm Beach and the airport. She turned in the rental car, paid cash. Then she booked herself on the next flight to New York and had some breakfast, thinking about shopping.

Stone was awakened early by his ringing phone. Dino, he reckoned. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Stone, it’s Jack Coulter.”

“Oh, hello, Jack.”

“There’s a problem.”

“What?”

“Our girl didn’t phone last night. I tried her this morning, but it went straight to voicemail.”

Stone was quiet for a moment.

“Have you heard from her or from Hilda?”

“No, neither.”

“I don’t think there’s anything more we can do until we hear from one of them,” Jack said.

“I agree.”

“Let’s talk after we get a call.”

They both hung up.

Stone spent his usual morning at his desk, then around noon, his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Hilda.”

“Good morning. Did you and Cara have a pleasant evening?”

“She never showed. I was disappointed. Has she called you?”

“No, I’ve heard nothing,” Stone said.

“I took a morning flight to New York. Would you like to get together?”

“No, I can’t, until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow night, then?”

“Sure. What’s your number?”

“I’ve got a new throwaway.” She gave him the number.

“Are you going to see Sal while you’re here?”

“I don’t know. I don’t particularly want to.”

“All right. Where are you staying?”

“At the Carlyle. They give me the rack rate for a suite.”

“I’ll pick you up at the Seventy-Sixth Street entrance at seven, then.”

“Good. We can come back to the Carlyle later.”

“Great. Bye.”

Stone hung up and called Jack.

“Hello, Stone.”

“I just had a call from Hilda. She said that Cara never showed. Hilda’s in New York now. We made a date for tomorrow night.”

“I wouldn’t keep it, if I were you. If Hilda’s alive, that tells you she knows everything.”

“That thought didn’t occur to me.”

“Look at it this way: you’ve got two women who met last night, both of whom are contract killers, and one of them is missing.”

“You have a point,” Stone said.

“I figure Cara made a move, but Hilda got there first. Now Hilda is going to be wondering who sent her.”

“Well, yes.”

“I don’t think you would survive another session in bed with Hilda.”

Stone gulped.

“Do you know where Hilda is staying?”

“In a suite at the Carlyle.”

“That’s a little expensive for a single person, isn’t it?”

“She performs there sometimes. She says they give her a rate.”

“Of course. And if I’m thinking correctly, she’ll have your twenty-five thousand dollars.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“I think your next move should be out of town,” Jack said.

“I’ll think about that,” Stone replied.

“Let’s talk when you’ve figured out your next move.”

“Good.” They both hung up.

Stone called Dino.

“Bacchetti.”

“We need to talk,” Stone said, “and not on the phone.”

“What’s up?”

“I need some advice. Dinner at Patroon, seven o’clock?”

“Okay. Viv’s out of town.”

“Good.”

Stone hung up, relieved. He didn’t want to explain any of this to Viv.

He tried to put himself in Hilda’s position. What would she do next? If he didn’t show for dinner tomorrow night, she’d smell a rat, and that would be him.

Maybe he should talk to Jack again, before it came to that. Jack seemed to be full of ideas, even if the last one hadn’t worked so well.