Nothing to do but wait, I thought, then remembered I had Paris Montgomery's cell phone in my car. I retrieved it on the way to the house and sat down with it at the writing desk.
The phone was a Nokia 3390. The voice mail icon indicated she had messages, but I had no way to retrieve them because I didn't know her password. I did know from experience, however, this model of phone automatically stored the last ten numbers dialed.
I scrolled to the last number dialed. "Voice mailbox" appeared in the screen. I scrolled to the next calclass="underline" Jane L-Cell. The next: Don-Cell.
Headlights flashed in the drive.
It wasn't Sean. I never saw Sean's lights when he drove in because he always went directly into the garage, which was on the far side of the main house.
Irina, perhaps.
Perhaps not.
I set the phone aside, picked up the Glock, turned off the only light I had on in the house, then went to look out the window.
The security light on the end of the stable didn't quite reach the car. But as the driver got out and came toward my house, I could tell by the way he carried himself it was Landry.
My heart beat faster. He would have news. Good or bad, he would have news. I opened the door before he made it to the patio. He stopped and put his hands up, his eyes on the gun still in my hand.
"Don't kill the messenger," he said.
"Is it bad news?"
"Yes."
"Is she dead?"
"Not that we know."
I leaned against the door frame and let go a sigh, feeling relieved and sick at once. "What happened?"
He told me about the drop, the taped message rigged with a timer, the videotape of Erin being beaten.
"My God," I mumbled, rubbing my hands over my face, feeling it on only one side. In that moment, I wished all of me could have been numb. "Oh, my God. That poor kid."
You broke the rules. The girl will pay the price.
Breaking the rules had been my idea. I'd spent my entire life breaking rules and never thinking twice until it was too late. I never seemed to learn that lesson. Now Erin Seabright was paying the price.
I should have done something differently. If I hadn't been such a bully with Bruce Seabright, if I hadn't insisted on bringing the SO into the picture…
If I hadn't been me. If Molly had gone to someone else.
"Don't beat yourself up, Estes," Landry said quietly.
I laughed."But that's one of the few things I do really well."
"No," he murmured.
He was standing very close to me. Our shadows overlapped on the flagstone as the front door light washed down over us. If I'd been a different woman, I might have turned to him in that moment. But I couldn't remember the last time I had offered my vulnerability to anyone. I didn't know how. And I didn't trust Landry not to hand it back.
"It's not all about you," he said. "Sometimes things just play out the way they play out."
I had used those same words with him just twenty-four hours before. "Anything I say can and will be used against me."
"Whatever works."
"Did it work when I fed it to you?"
He shook his head. "No. But I liked the sound of it."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
We looked at each other for a little too long, then Landry rubbed the back of his neck and looked past me into the house.
"Can I help myself to your scotch? It's been a hell of a day."
"Sure."
He went to the cabinet and poured himself a couple of fingers of whiskey as old as I was, and sipped at it.
I sat on the arm of a chair and watched him. "Where was Jade during the drop?"
"In West Palm, meeting with Jill Morone's parents. They flew down from Buttcrack, Virginia, this afternoon and demanded he meet with them personally."
"And Van Zandt?"
He shook his head, the line of his jaw tightening. "Good call this morning about your FBI friend."
"Armedgian? He's no friend of mine-or yours, I imagine."
"He's suddenly here to 'consult and advise.' His people are sitting on Van Zandt."
"His people are watching a car in a driveway. Van Zandt was out here this morning driving a Chevy."
Landry gave me the eagle eye. "What was he doing out here?"
"Serving me notice, I think."
"He knows it was you in his place last night?"
"Yes. I think so."
"I don't like that."
"Imagine how I feel."
He sipped his scotch and thought. "Well… he wasn't at the drop. We know that."
"That doesn't mean he's not connected to the kidnapping. Or Jade either, for that matter. I'm sure that was half the point of rigging the tape with a timer: so the bad guys could make airtight alibis for the time of the drop."
"That and to punish Seabright."
"They had to know you'd be there. They never had any intention of showing up with or without Erin."
"We still had to go through with it."
"Of course," I said. "But I don't like what it means for Erin. They know now they're not going to get the money. What do they have to gain by keeping her alive? Nothing."
"Fun and games with the riding whip," Landry said. He stared at the floor and shook his head. "Jesus. You should have seen him go at her. If he beat his horses like that, the SPCA would have him locked up."
"Jade?" I said. "I'm sure you know something about him I don't, but I'm having some serious doubts he's our guy."
"You're the one who told me everything came back to him."
"In a way, it does. But in a way that doesn't add up for me. He's sitting pretty professionally with Trey Hughes putting him into that new facility, buying expensive horses for him. Why would he risk that by doing something so outrageous as kidnap Erin?"
"Erin knew something about that horse he killed."
"So why not just get rid of her?" I asked. "This is south Florida. It's the easiest thing in the world to get rid of a body. Why get embroiled in a messy kidnapping plot?"
Landry shrugged. "So he's a psycho. He thinks he's omnipotent."
"I could go for that explanation regarding Van Zandt. But I don't see Jade risking everything on some scheme, and I don't see him partnering with a loose cannon like Van Zandt."
Landry took another sip of the scotch. Trying to decide whether or not to share with me, I thought.
"One of the phone numbers you gave me from Seabright's incoming calls belonged to a prepaid cell phone we traced to the Radio Shack in Royal Palm Beach. We couldn't get an ID from the clerks off Jade's photo, but one of them thinks he took a phone call from a man named Jade, asking him questions about the phones, and asking him to set a phone aside for him."
"Why would Jade do something so stupid?" I said. "He wouldn't."
Landry shrugged. "Maybe he figured a disposable phone would be untraceable, so it wouldn't matter who he talked to."
I got up to pace, shaking my head. "Don Jade hasn't gotten where he is by being an idiot. If he wanted a phone held for him, why not give a phony name? Why not give them just his first name? No. This doesn't make any sense at all."
"It's the lead we have," Landry said defensively. "I'm not going to ignore it. You know as well as I do, criminals fuck up. They get careless. They make mistakes."
"Yeah, well maybe someone made this mistake for him."
"What? You think someone's trying to frame him?"
"It looks that way to me. Jade has more to lose than to gain by any of this."
"But he's done it before-the insurance scam with the dead horses."
"Yes, but things were different then."
"Tigers don't change their stripes."
"Look," I said, "I'm not trying to defend him. I just think there are more rotten apples in this barrel than Don Jade. What did Michael Berne have to say for himself about the night Jill was murdered?"
"He was at Players for drinks with a client, the client was a no-show. Berne went out into the hall to call the client, and witnessed the scene between Jade and the girl."