While Justice Sleeps(85)
“Oh, God!” she gasped, her hand flying to her throat. A man had appeared in the shadowed area of her parking space. On edge, she laughed at her fright. “I didn’t see anyone else down here. My goodness, you scared me.”
“Sorry to startle you, ma’am.” He motioned to her armful of folders as he shifted between the car door and the concrete stanchion. “Can I help?”
The low, raspy voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Betty knew she’d had a crazy day. Jumping at shadows and helpful strangers. She shifted the folders for better control. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary.” Taking a step forward, she frowned as the man didn’t move. “Excuse me.”
Instead of backing up, he took a menacing step forward.
“Sir, please get out of my way.”
“No.” He took another step closer, and Betty scuttled back, her body wedged now between car and concrete, her heart suddenly in her throat. She tried a smile that wobbled as she spoke: “We’ve got excellent security here. Cameras everywhere.”
“Won’t help, Betty.”
At the sound of her name, she recognized the voice. Trapped, she screamed and tried to ram him out of the way. But Major Vance was immovable.
Instead of moving, Vance caught her right arm, cranked it into a figure four behind her back, and shoved her head against the stanchion. Stunned, she stumbled and the folders fell. He kept her upright and quickly caught her other arm and manacled it to the first one. Betty felt blood and pain, and for a moment, she felt his grip relax as he shifted to hold her arms in one hand. She started to scream again, but he shoved her head against the post a second time. When she struggled, kicking back at him, he trapped her legs with his and pushed something inside her mouth with his free hand.
He pushed her deep into the shadows of the corner, his bulk blocking her from view, any screams muffled. A thin wire loop whipped down around her neck, biting into soft, pale flesh.
The garrote crushed her larynx, and within a few minutes she sagged in death. With easy motions, he removed the keys from the still-warm fingers and unlocked the sedan. He lifted her crumpled body and stashed her across the rear seats of her car. Changing his mind, he pushed her body down to the car’s floor.
Vance scooped up her fallen purse and tossed it inside, then picked up the files and placed them on the console next to the driver’s seat. He slid behind the wheel and backed the unmarked car out of the spot.
Vance drove at a normal pace down the ramp and out of the complex, merging into traffic as he headed for his first stop. The abandoned construction site near the airport was perfect. Rebar and dirt crunched beneath the car’s tires as he wove toward an unfinished structure. He parked between mounds of abandoned rubble and reached for the files. Swiftly, he read through her findings, his eyes narrowing.
Perhaps she’d died taking solace in the fact that she alone knew the truth.
Shrouded by looming concrete, he shoved Betty from the rear of the vehicle and onto the ground littered with debris. He tucked the files tightly against her body. With familiar motions, he removed three bottles. Their deadly chemicals were a perk of his time with CBIRF and the scientists who spent their lives creating new ways to deliver death.
The first bottle’s cap unsealed the nearly odorless contents. He doused the body that had once been Betty Papaleo, as well as the files of secrets she’d uncovered. Carefully, he recapped the bottle and stowed it, then added the accelerant and the contents of the third, a desiccant. The chemical combination worked as it always had, shredding through tissue into bone. The open air dispersed the stench of disintegrating flesh. Paper vanished into dust.
No dental records, no fingerprints. DNA might help eventually. For the time after they found her, if they did, there would be only speculation and conjecture.
He returned to the car and headed for the airport. Vance turned into an off-site parking garage that warehoused the cars of travelers. Unlike in the airport parking lot, security here would be lax. He tugged the cap lower and kept his head down as he punched the green button for a ticket. Inside, he drove to a spot in gathered shadows far away from any car that showed recent use.
The car hidden, he emerged from the garage and caught the van carrying passengers to the airport. A quick transfer to a cab, and soon he was mere blocks from his own vehicle. He paid the driver and, after waiting until the car departed, hiked down to the alley. Satisfied, he drove out of the alleyway and merged into traffic.
By voice, he activated the car phone. “Phillips.”
“Yes?”
“Purchase a ticket to Mexico for Betty Papaleo. Backdate the purchase two weeks ago and add a second passenger: male—husband—Darren Papaleo. Departing tonight. Find Mr. Papaleo, and make sure he doesn’t catch his flight.”
THIRTY-FOUR
Friday, June 23
The next morning, a loud pounding rousted Avery, and she tumbled out of bed, her legs twisted in the sheets. “I’m coming,” she shouted hoarsely. She kicked free of the tangled covers, tugged her T-shirt down over her shorts.
In the living room, Jared stirred, and she motioned him back to sleep. At the door, she raked back disheveled hair and peered through the keyhole. Noah stood on the other side, holding a newspaper, a stern new agent glaring at his back. Avery fumbled the locks free and opened the door.