Too Far Gone

62

From her vantage point across St. Charles Avenue, Alexa could see the LePointe mansion illuminated by floodlights, the front gate, and, parked beyond the intersection, Manseur’s Crown Victoria. She looked down at her passenger’s seat, at the scuffed-up NOPD laptop, which was set to the frequency of the trackers. She had turned the brightness down so the glow wouldn’t be apparent to the guard in the gatehouse. Alexa felt the familiar sense of excitement and anticipation growing inside her that she always got when the payoff was in sight-like a hunter watching a deer moving in the deep woods, making its way slowly to an exposed space in the trees.

Manseur’s computer had the same views of both tracker frequencies, and he and Larry Bond would be able to follow whichever vehicle Decell used. They had lucked out by having Casey plant the trackers, and Alexa just hoped their luck would hold awhile longer. In the event that both vehicles left, Alexa would follow LePointe. Decell would certainly follow LePointe somehow, and would be pissed that the cops were covering the transaction, because there was obviously something going on that his employer wanted to keep quiet. If the police timed their appearance, they’d have unfettered access to a diary, hopefully detailing LePointe’s crime-if such a diary indeed existed.

Alexa was startled by a sudden movement and turned to see Casey pulling open the passenger door.

“What’s going on?” Alexa asked.

“I sneaked out. I had to talk to you.”

“You could have phoned me. What if they miss you?”

“Relax, they won’t even know I’m gone. I didn’t get to put one of those bugs on the Bentley. A guard came. I had to go back inside.”

“Did you get one on Decell’s car?”

“I sure did,” Casey said, smiling.

“One is a lot better than none. Good work.”

“The other one is inside, in a much better place.”

Inside is better? Might the house move? Alexa’s phone rang and she saw it was a call from Manseur’s cell. “Yeah?”

“Is that Casey in your car?”

“It is. She only rigged Decell’s car.”

“Well, then it’s Decell who’s on the move. Let’s give him thirty seconds and trail him.”

Alexa looked at the screen and saw a dot moving on the line. “You have to get out, Casey. I have to go. Decell’s car is moving. Probably LePointe’s will be leaving soon too.”

“What about the other bug? Is it moving?”

Alexa looked at her screen again. She saw that the other dot, denoting the second bug, was stationary. “It’s not,” she said.

“Just watch it,” Casey said.

“Decell’s on his way out,” Alexa said, pointing at the headlights approaching the front gate.

“He’s not taking the bonds. Not unless the second signal shows movement,” Casey said.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I planted the other bug in the briefcase containing the ransom bonds,” Casey told her. “Unko’s going to make the exchange personally. Decell will probably circle around to be there to cover him. That isn’t Unko. I’m certain.”

Alexa told Manseur what Casey had said.

“Damn it,” Manseur growled. “I’m tailing Decell. I’ll tell Bond to break off and follow the Bentley.”

“No, I’m on LePointe,” Alexa said, watching the gate open and the Bentley pull out onto St. Charles Avenue. “Casey, they must have put the bonds in another valise.”

“No, they don’t have any reason to do that.”

“The other bug is in the valise with the bonds,” Alexa said to Manseur.

“Both cars are leaving,” Manseur said.

“Unko is not in the Bentley,” Casey insisted again. “It’s got to be that extra guard Decell had come to the house.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Alexa said. “My gut says the bonds are in the Bentley.”

“I trust you, why can’t you trust me?” Casey demanded, placing her hand on Alexa’s wrist. “I know Unko. I think they’re making sure they aren’t being watched. They’re very cunning.”

Alexa lifted the phone and told Manseur, “Tell Larry to stick on the Bentley. I’m going to stay here to see if there’s something else going on. If the valise doesn’t move in ten minutes, I’ll catch up.”

“Hell, knowing Decell, he might not even have the bonds. He could be planning not to give them anything and take what they have by force. Decell probably thinks he’s got the upper hand on a bunch of amateurs.”

Alexa looked at her watch and back at the immobile flashing dot positioned inside the mansion. She prayed Casey was right and the caravan was a ruse.

The tracker’s range was less than ten miles, and as she watched the tracker in Decell’s car moving away, Alexa felt like a child being abandoned in a foreign place. Once the bug was out of range, she’d have to rely on Manseur to give her the location and on her car’s GPS to get her to the meeting place. That would be both an inefficient way to navigate and she would certainly arrive late.

“It’ll move soon,” Casey repeated. “You’ll see.”

“Go back inside,” Alexa told her.

“No way. Gary’s my husband. I’m going with you. I’m going to be there when you find him.”

“Absolutely not,” Alexa said firmly. “This is dangerous, Casey. They’ve already killed Fugate.”

“But I thought Sibby Danielson killed her. Is she in on this?”

“I think someone intended it look that way. I think whoever did it either killed Sibby or maybe has her stashed somewhere.”

Casey looked at the computer screen, then crossed her arms stubbornly. “I’m not getting out, and unless you go now you’ll never get to the ransom drop.”

Alexa glanced at the flashing dot, which was moving toward the rear of the house. “What’s out back?”

“The garage and staff parking, among other things. Unko’s going to take one of the other cars. Aren’t you glad I put the tracer thing in the briefcase?”

“What vehicles are there?” Alexa asked.

“There’s a Caprice wagon, a Mercedes 500 sedan that was Sarah’s, the servants’ cars, and the guards’. If it’s Unko, he’ll take the Mercedes.”

“Out!” Alexa ordered. “I can’t worry about your safety and do my job!”

“I can handle myself. I’m a black belt,” Casey said, pointing at the screen. “You better get going. Alexa; you can’t drive and follow this little dot, and I don’t think you know your way around well enough to divide your attention between the road and the screen. Let me stay. I can read you the streets he’s on and you can just drive. See, he’s already in a car, moving down the service alley.”

Alexa knew Casey wasn’t going to get out, she couldn’t force her to do so, time was running out, and she could certainly use Casey’s help. She slammed the Bucar in gear and pressed the accelerator down, pulling onto St. Charles. “Fine. Then put on your seat belt. And you will do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it.”

“Of course,” Casey said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”