“I learned that Rice had dated Ms. Wingate when they were in high school and had bumped into her again in Washington, D.C., a month or so before the congressman was killed. I also learned that Rice had recently been discharged from the military for psychiatric reasons. The prevailing theory is that if Rice murdered Glass, he did it out of jealousy.
“Several months after Eric Glass was murdered, General Peter Rivera was tortured and murdered in Maryland. The MO was identical to the method used in the Glass killing. Physical evidence at the scene of the Rivera murder linked Rice to the crime.
“I interviewed Ms. Wingate after her release from the hospital. She was estranged from her father and calling herself Vanessa Kohler. Kohler was her mother’s maiden name. Ms. Kohler confirmed that she saw Rice kill the congressman. She denied that she and Glass were lovers but refused to tell me why she was at Glass’s house.” He paused for a minute, then shrugged. “And that’s the sum total of my knowledge about the case. You said you had a question for me.”
“Mr. Hobson, did you ever hear that Carl Rice was a member of a secret army unit run by General Wingate?” Kirkpatrick asked.
“That’s what Vanessa claimed in an unpublished book she’s written, but Rice’s army records don’t support her accusations. From what I’ve learned Vanessa hates her father. She believes that he murdered her mother. She also believes that he killed John F. Kennedy.”
Kirkpatrick and Walsh stared at each other in disbelief.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” the prosecutor said.
“Then she’s nuts?” the detective added.
“Vanessa is a very troubled woman with a lot of odd ideas. She works for one of those supermarket tabloids that run stories on alien abductions and Elvis sightings.”
“We’ve just learned that Carl Rice claims that the Unit is real and that he worked in it for the General,” Walsh said.
“Yes, well, I’m inclined to think that we’re dealing with two mentally disturbed individuals who are feeding off each other’s fantasy. It’s even possible that Vanessa murdered the congressman and framed Rice for it.”
“Then why would he help Vanessa?” Ami asked.
“And you are?” Hobson asked.
“Ami Vergano. Carl was renting an apartment over my garage. He was helping out at my son’s Little League game when he hurt Barney Lutz and that officer.”
“Ms. Vergano is Rice’s lawyer,” Kirkpatrick added.
“I see,” Hobson said. “Well, Ms. Vergano, if Rice is crazy, and he’s in love with Vanessa Wingate, he might do anything.”
“Mr. Hobson,” Ami said, “a man broke into my house tonight. He murdered two policemen and tried to kill me. Carl saved me. Doesn’t that make you think that Carl and Vanessa might be telling the truth about the General and the Unit?”
“Morris Wingate’s company has its own security force. If the General thought that Rice was a danger to his daughter, he might have sent them after him.”
“But they killed the policemen.”
“Did you see them do that?” Walsh asked.
Ami paused. When she answered she was less sure of herself. “I saw Carl kill the man who broke into my room. He told me that the men had murdered my guards.”
“There you have it,” Hobson said. “Isn’t it possible that Rice killed the policemen and Wingate’s men arrived at your house shortly afterward? Rice could have ambushed them and told you that he saved you.”
“Look,” Walsh interrupted, “this speculation is getting us nowhere. It doesn’t matter whether or not this Unit exists. Rice broke out of jail and Vanessa Wingate helped him. They’re fugitives and they’re armed and dangerous. We need to arrest them. We can sort out these big issues once they’re locked up.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Vanessa drove west from Portland on back roads until she hit US 101, the narrow highway that runs from Washington to California along Oregon’s scenic coastline. If it had been daylight Carl and Vanessa would have seen stunning rock formations jutting out of the Pacific, massive sand dunes, and stands of evergreen, but they drove in the dead of night and all they saw was the eerie glow of whitecaps floating like ghosts in the darkness when the highway drew close to the ocean.
Ami had told them where the unpaved dirt road to the cabin joined the highway. Her directions were good and they found the turnoff easily. The car bounced along for a quarter of a mile. Then the headlights illuminated a two-story house with gray siding that had been weathered by the constant battering of the sea air. The cabin backed on the beach and was surrounded by woods.
Carl and Vanessa realized that they were starving. Vanessa had planned ahead. She had a duffel bag filled with provisions in the trunk, along with another bag filled with clothes. The first thing they did when they were inside was check the refrigerator so that they wouldn’t have to waste their food. They found cold beer and soda, some frozen food in the freezer compartment, and canned goods in the pantry. Carl fixed dinner using some of the food from the duffel bag and some of the food that was already in the house.
When they were finished eating, Carl cleaned up while Vanessa walked through the rest of the cabin. Besides the kitchen, there was a small living room and a half bath on the first floor. A back door opened onto a sandy yard that overlooked the beach. Upstairs were three small bedrooms. Vanessa was standing in one of them when she heard Carl come up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. She felt the warmth through her shirt and turned into his arms.
“I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet,” he said.
Vanessa smiled. “We’ve been a little busy.”
Carl slid his arms down to Vanessa’s waist and kissed her. His kiss was tentative but her answering kiss was not. Carl took a deep breath.
“You need to get some rest,” he said.
Vanessa ran her hand along his chest. “Care to join me?”
“Not tonight. I have to stand guard.”
“No one is going to find us here. You need sleep, too.”
“I dozed in the car. And we don’t know what type of surveillance equipment Wingate has. For all we know, he’s been using a satellite to track us.” Carl kissed her forehead. “So get to sleep. One of us has to be fresh in the morning.”
Vanessa opened the window and let in the cold sea air, suddenly exhausted. She kicked off her shoes and slid between the sheets. It seemed to her that she had slept only a few minutes when an insistent tapping on her shoulder brought her out of a dark dream. There was a hand across her mouth and she panicked until she realized that it was Carl’s.
“They’re here,” he whispered.
Vanessa stepped into her shoes, took her Magnum out of her purse, and followed Carl to the back door. On the way down the stairs, Carl told her that they couldn’t take the car because they would have to drive through Wingate’s men, who would blow it to pieces.
“We’ll get into the woods behind the house and keep moving,” Carl said. “I didn’t see a landing party on the beach. They’ll come at us from the front and circle around.”
“I’ll slow you down, Carl. I’ll make noise. They’ll hear me.”
“You didn’t forget about me and I’m not leaving you.”
She gripped his shoulder and stared into his eyes. “Be smart. My father will kill you, but he won’t kill me. I’m his daughter. Get away, then come for me if you can.”
Carl started to argue but she sealed his lips with a finger. “We don’t have time. Go.”
Carl realized that Vanessa had sized up the situation correctly. He could move through the woods like a ghost, but Vanessa had no training and she’d give them both away.
