“What are you calling for?”
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he said.
“I told you I’d call if I got into trouble.”
“I know. But it’s too dark, too deserted. I don’t like the looks of this, baby.”
Deirdre hated it when he called her “baby.” “Just stick to the plan, okay? Where would Woodward and Bernstein be today if they’d refused to meet Deep Throat in a dark parking garage?”
“This isn’t exactly Watergate you’re breaking open. Come on. Let’s split.”
“No, damn it. I’m not going to blow this chance. Now, sit tight until I call you.” She switched off the phone and shoved it in her purse. Strangely, the call from her boyfriend made her that much more determined to go through with this. She continued down the dark driveway toward the loading dock, passing one stacked pallet after another. Between each stack were narrow crevices, perfect hiding spots. As she passed each opening, she peered into the long, black tunnel to make sure no one was lurking in the darkness. With endless rows of stacked boxes, it was like staring into the entrance of a labyrinth.
Her phone rang again, giving her heart a jolt. She snatched it from her purse and answered in an angry voice, “What now?”
“Chill, lady.”
Deirdre froze. It wasn’t her boyfriend. It was the deep, mechanically altered voice of her source. “Where are you?”
“Never mind that.”
“What do you mean, never mind? I’m here. Are we meeting, or not?”
“We’re not.”
“You son of a bitch. You said-”
“I said you could see Sally’s ring first.”
She reeled in her anger. “Is it here?”
“Just keep walking toward the loading dock.”
She was just a hundred feet away. She checked left, then right, searching for her caller in the dark crevices between stacked pallets. But she saw nothing. “Okay,” she said, putting one foot in front of the other. “I’m walking.”
“Keep going.”
“Are you watching me?” she asked.
“Do you feel watched?” he said.
She checked over her shoulder. “A little.”
“Good. Maybe that will keep you from running off with the ring.”
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Look, but don’t touch.”
“How will I know it’s really hers?”
“The band is engraved on the inside. Read it. Then go check it out. You’ll see it’s the real thing.”
Deirdre was fifty feet away as she entered the circle of light surrounding the loading dock. “When do I find out who killed her?”
“As soon as we strike our deal.”
“What deal?”
“My piece of your forty-six-million-dollar inheritance.”
“What makes you think I’m going to inherit it?”
“Because you’re going to live longer than anyone else.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’m going to make sure of it.”
Deirdre stopped. It wasn’t something she’d decided to do. Her feet had just stopped moving. “What are you saying?”
“You and me. A team.”
“I’m not interested in being on anybody’s team.”
“That’s not the answer I want to hear.”
“I don’t care. This is getting too weird.”
“Don’t blow this, Deirdre. You get half, I get half. You get the story to boot.”
“What kind of a sick bastard are you?”
“A greedy, sick bastard. Just like you. Except that I lack your ambition.”
Her grip on the phone tightened. “Look, I think I know what you’re saying, and let me make myself clear. I don’t want any part of any plan you might have to hurt any of those other potential beneficiaries.”
“Then why did you come here?”
“For the story.”
“And the money.”
“You said you knew who Sally’s killer was.”
“And I’m willing to tell you. But not without a deal on the inheritance.”
“I’m not interested in making that kind of deal with you. So you can just keep your ring, keep your story, and keep away from me. Understand?”
She waited for a response, and the silence on the line only heightened her sense of being watched. “I know you’re still there,” she said. “I’m hanging up now. Listen to what I’m saying. I don’t ever want to hear from you again. Got it?”
“Yeah,” he said. His voice was especially deep, and the voice altering device only seemed to emphasize his anger. “I got it.”
The call ended, and Deirdre immediately rang her boyfriend on speed dial. “Johnny, get over here right now.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just scared. Meet me at my car.” She disconnected, wheeled on one foot, and sprinted for the gate. It was a hundred-yard dash in the dark to the exit, and Deirdre was running full out, gobbling up in no time the same stretch of driveway that had taken several minutes to cover earlier in her timid entrance. Arms pumping, legs churning, she was flying by row after row of stacked pallets. She kept her eyes focused on the gate ahead, ignoring the dark crevices between boxes that had frightened her on the way in. She was at top speed when she reached the fence, and she practically slammed into the chain link.
Outside, her boyfriend’s car pulled up next to hers. He jumped out and ran to the gate.
Deirdre reached for the latch and yanked on the padlock. It didn’t budge.
“Are you okay?” her boyfriend asked from the other side of the fence.
“Yes, yes. Just-I can’t get out of here!”
He tried the padlock. “It’s locked.”
“Damn,” she said. “That creep locked me in.”
“Can you climb over?”
She looked up at the tangle of razor wire that ran the length of the nine-foot-high fence. “I would say no.”
Her boyfriend’s expression suddenly went cold. “I would say you’d better.”
Deirdre turned and froze. A pair of Doberman Pinschers emerged from the darkness. They were approaching slowly, like lanky cheetahs stalking their prey, growling with teeth bared.
“Don’t move,” said her boyfriend.
The watchdogs inched closer. Deirdre looked at one, then the other. The bigger one barked and snapped, then pulled away. Deirdre threw herself back against the fence.
“Don’t move,” her boyfriend said in an urgent whisper.
“I’m scared!”
“And don’t look them in the eye, either. They’ll think you’re challenging them.”
“Johnny, do something!”
“I’m calling the cops. Just don’t move a muscle.”
“I have a can of mace in my purse.”
“Leave it. These dogs are trained to go after people who reach for weapons.”
