“You’ll need to stay here. I have to turn in my weapon. I can’t just kill someone and not have witnesses.”
“Take a few pictures, but do it fast. We’re not having Alena and Zyah hanging out there by themselves. If you have to stay here with the body and wait for your people,” Player said, “I’ll need Savage with me to make certain the women are safe.”
Jonas glanced down at his phone and swore. “Jackson just let me know that Terrie Frankle pulled up in front of Anat’s house. She’s going up to the front door now. Lift your shirt, Savage. Let me take some pictures. I’m going to need statements from all of you. Keys, Player, both of you as well as Savage.”
“No problem,” Player said. “But right now, I’m going after my woman. If Frankle is heading into Anat’s house, you know these people are making their move.”
Jonas swore. His hands were tied. It wasn’t like he could leave a dead body lying on the ground. It was bad enough that his three key witnesses were leaving. “Get the hell out of here before anyone else gets here.”
Anat unlocked the front door using her iPad, rolling back her chair to allow Terrie Frankle into her living room, greeting her with a smile. “Terrie. It’s so late, honey. Is everything okay?”
Terrie nodded and looked around the room. The house was quiet, other than the sound of soft music playing. Anat always liked music playing in the background, even when they were working. The lights were muted, but as usual, when Zyah wasn’t home, several of the rooms were lit: the living room and Anat’s bedroom and sitting room. Terrie had driven past the house several times, both by the front of the house and down the narrow, less traveled street in back. The garage and back of the house and entire upstairs remained dark.
“Usually, you have someone staying with you until your granddaughter gets home, but when I drove by, it looked like you were alone. I was worried, so I thought I’d just stop for a minute and check on you. Is everything all right?” Terrie poured worry into her voice.
She’d taken acting classes, and they always came in so handy in these situations. The elderly were lonely and wanted company. They wanted to talk and share their stories. They wanted people to see them, and Terrie was good at making them believe she cared about them. Her partner, Lester Gibbons, was just as good. He was charming and good-looking. The women fell for him, and the men liked him. They made an excellent team. They were equally ruthless and had no compunction about killing if they needed to.
“That is so like you, dear,” Anat said. “Inez was supposed to be here tonight, but some dear friends of hers are in the hospital, and she and Frank went to see them. I guess things aren’t going so well with them, so they stayed there. Zyah will be home soon. She just texted me that she’ll be here soon. She needed to stop by and see Francine.”
Terrie didn’t like that there was a text message from Zyah about Francine, but it wouldn’t matter. Francine and Zyah would both be dead. Anat as well now. That little text message had sealed her fate. She winced at the idea of the mess that had occurred at the Randall estate. Francine was supposed to get Zyah to dinner, away from her grandmother’s house, but Francine seemed to be so useless lately. She’d texted that Anat had visitors but that the Randall estate was ripe for the picking, and described just how to get in.
Francine had been right: the estate was a gold mine. Unfortunately, Gray Randall had tried to pull a gun on Lester, and Lester had gone crazy, the way he did when anyone thwarted him. He was already angry that they’d stayed in Sea Haven so long. They had rules. Those rules had kept them safe. They’d lost two members of their team, and their team was tight- knit.
“I heard something about that,” Terrie said, her voice dripping with sympathy. “I never met them. Were they friends of yours?”
Lester had been smoldering with rage. He took it out on Randall, beating him, stomping him when he was down and then going back for more. When Randall’s wife interfered, Lester became enraged all over again. She had been hard-pressed to stop him. It had taken both Charlie, another team member, and Terrie to pull him away. Even then, Lester went back three times, with the alarms blaring and him swearing like a sailor. He’d even shoved her, something he’d never done before.
“Not really. The Randalls kept to themselves, although some of my friends knew them. Lizz, and Inez, of course,” Anat said. “No one should have that happen to them.”
Terrie had waited for Lester to get himself under control and suggested they cut and run, but he’d refused. Francine had insisted Anat was hiding a huge treasure in her home, the biggest anyone had. He was furious that the old lady had deceived them, and worse, Terrie hadn’t discovered what she was hiding, so he blamed her as well that they were still in Sea Haven. The property was worth a fortune, and Francine had no reason to lie, so no matter how frugally it appeared they lived, the Gamals were most likely very wealthy.
“I agree, Anat: no one should have that happen to them. It could so easily have been avoided.” Terrie kept her voice smooth. Gentle. It was time to come to an understanding. By now, Zyah should be in Lester’s hands, or at least close. She pulled out her phone to check for messages.
Right now Ralph, another team member, was following Zyah back to the headlands. His job had been to keep an eye on Francine, and he’d spotted the stupid bitch wearing jewelry worth a massive fortune when she was eating dinner with Perry Randall. She tried to lie to them and say it was costume—as if they wouldn’t know the difference. Lester was so out of patience with her, he’d threatened her grandmother and told her to bring the jewelry to the blowhole. When she met him there, he beat her, took the jewelry and told her to call Zyah and get her there or his next visit was to the grandmother. It would be anyway. Francine admitted there was a lot more jewelry. They weren’t leaving without it.
Terrie knew Lester was certain Anat would cave and give them the big treasure if they had a knife to Zyah’s throat or if he started beating her.
Anat frowned. “I don’t know what that means, Terrie. I must have missed something. I admit I didn’t read much on what happened to the Randalls because it was too much like what happened to me and I still get very upset. Did they do something to provoke the thieves?”
Terrie rolled her eyes as she hastily texted. Her team member Randy was supposed to have joined her by now. He’d been in the car behind hers, patrolling. He was to make two rounds to ensure no one was near, and then she would let him in. They would spend whatever time with the old lady they needed.
Lester texted her that a car was parking at the headlands and that Ralph had texted him that two women, Zyah and her friend Alena, the owner of Crow 287, had come together. But no worries, the three men could handle them— just take care of the old lady. He hadn’t been able to raise Ralph since, but they’d learned cell phone service was spotty in places on the coast, and he wasn’t worried. He was going to do Francine immediately. He despised the whiny little bitch. Get it done so they could get to Francine’s home, score everything in one night and get out. He sent her kiss emojis. The door opened behind her, and Randy strode in, grinning evilly at Anat.
“Bet you don’t remember me without my mask,” he greeted.