Reid tipped his head to one side. What was that noise on the wind? The other two hadn’t reacted, so maybe the sound was his imagination.
He put his hand on her shoulder. “Was that a gunshot?”
“I didn’t hear it.”
The retort of a gun repeated, and the drone plunged from the sky and dove into the waves.
“They shot my drone!” Her dad slammed his laptop shut. “We’re helpless.”
Jane clutched her hands together and went to the end of the pier where she stared at the disappearing boat. “They’re getting away!”
Reid’s phone vibrated in his hand. He glanced at the message from Augusta, then handed Jane the phone. “You got a text from Augusta. They’re on their way, but ETA isn’t for about thirty minutes.”
“Oh man. Not good. That’s plenty of time for the men in black to disappear.” She glanced back toward the white SUV. “Maybe there’s something inside the vehicle to help us know where they’re heading.”
She ran back along the dock to the grass and tried to open the door. “It’s locked. I’ll get my Slim Jim.”
Stepping to the back liftgate, she got inside her vehicle and returned with the unlocking tool. Within moments she had the door open and was inside. She unlocked all the doors with the button on the driver’s side.
“Reid, you look in the backseat. I’ll see what I can find in the passenger seat.”
Reid ducked inside the back and felt under the seat and along the side of the door. Nothing. He looked in the pocket on the far side and found an assortment of pens and paper along with napkins and a few receipts. Nothing helpful.
“Nothing in the glove box but vehicle registration and the owner’s manual.” Jane flipped down the visor, but it held only the mirror.
Her dad approached the car with his laptop. “I got a snapshot of the name of the boat before he shot the drone down. It’s the Westwind.”
“That’s Gabriel’s boat. I’ll tell Augusta.” So maybe her mother had been wrong and Gabriel was more of a threat than she’d realized. Jane activated her phone and placed the call to Augusta. Voice mail, she mouthed. She left a detailed message. “Call me back when you get this.”
Reid lay on his side and looked under the seat. A wooden object caught his eye, and he pulled out a hand-carved pipe. It still held traces of tobacco. Something about it felt familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
He got out when Jane did and saw the droop of her shoulders. He started toward her to show her the pipe, but her dad got there first.
Charles put his arm around her. “You did everything right, Jane. The guys had a plan. I wish I’d gotten a look at their faces.”
“I did snap some pictures.” She opened her phone and called up the pictures she’d taken in the woods. “Have a look.”
He took the phone and swiped through the pictures, pausing at the last one. “Something about that guy . . .”
Reid peered over Charles’s shoulder at the burly figure. Something about his stance triggered a sense of familiarity. It took a second for it to register. “He walks like you.”
Edward.
Jane stared at her dad. “I’d suspected Edward, but why wouldn’t he tell Gabriel about all he was doing? I’ve been trying to figure out why on earth you would be the target of a dirty bomb. It seems extreme, but Edward hates you.”
Charles pressed his lips together and stared at the photo. “Let me enlarge this last picture.” He used his thumb and forefinger to blow up the image of the man’s face, and though the picture was blurry, Reid inhaled at how much it looked like Edward.
“It’s my brother.” Charles rubbed his head. “And it makes a twisted kind of sense. I destroyed his family, so he plans to destroy mine. That’s why he implicated Will in Lauren’s death. He wants to punish me through Will.”
“How did you destroy his family?” Jane asked.
“I sent his boy to jail. Colton. You might remember him, Jane. The two of you used to be inseparable.”
She wished she could remember.
“He ended up just as bad as his dad. You were in college, and I’d decided to go see my brother. Try to connect again.” He shrugged. “Stupid idea. When I arrived in town, I spotted a punk with a gun shaking down an old woman. I intervened, but the poor old lady was shot before I could stop him. I tackled him and called the police. My testimony sent him to prison. It was Edward’s boy, Colton. He died in prison during a yard fight.”
“And Edward never forgave you,” she said.
Reid looked down at the pipe in his hand, and the sudden realization of where he’d seen one like it hit him. At the compound in Kentucky. “Look here, guys. I found this under the SUV’s backseat. Edward had one like it that nearly fell out of his pocket when we spoke to him.”
Charles took it and turned it over in his hands. “He started carving these when he was fifteen.”
“Any idea where he might go in this area?” Jane asked.
Charles shook his head. “I haven’t spoken to him in years.”
Reid ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. There was something just out of the grasp of his memory. His eyes widened, and he put his hand on Jane’s shoulder. “Didn’t Edward say something about Fairhope when we saw him? Remember? He told you to go back to Fairhope.”
She nodded. “I’d thought it was a slip of the tongue, but maybe it’s more than that. It’s the only lead we have. Let’s head there.”
The three of them ran to the SUV and buckled up.
“It’s normally an hour to get there from here, but I’ll use my siren and lights.” Jane flipped on both, and Reid saw the speedometer hit seventy by the time she was a mile out on the road back to town.
“Where might they go in Fairhope?” Reid asked. “Does Gabriel have any known contacts there? All I know about Fairhope is that lots of artists live there. And it’s cute.” Its reputation as the cutest town in the South was well deserved.
“Maybe just a change of vehicles,” Jane said. “If we can get the police out there, they might find someone waiting in the parking lot by the pier.”
“Lots of well-known people have homes there,” her dad said. “Ball players, authors.”
Jane hunched over the steering wheel, and the speedometer zoomed higher. At times she was doing ninety on open stretches on I-98 when traffic was light.
Her phone sounded, and she glanced down at the console where it lay faceup. “It’s Augusta.” She touched a button on her steering wheel to answer. “Any news?”
“I got someone down to the Fairhope marina, Chief. He found the boat, but no one was there. We were too late.”
“Thanks for trying.”
Jane pulled to the side of the road and beat on the steering wheel. “Too late! Now what?” Her phone dinged, and she glanced at it. “Nora just sent over the picture of the man in the backyard of Lauren’s house. Let me take a look at it before we go.”
“Okay.”
He watched as she opened the file and enlarged the picture. The color drained from her face, and she handed her phone to Reid without a word.
He stared at it. “That looks like . . .”