Page 25 of Saltwater Promises
Chapter 11
As nice as the impromptu visit was, Mike knew that he was walking a fine line. Naturally, Lynn was curious about what he’d done with the pictures she’d taken. Yet she couldn’t be involved, and he knew that he shouldn’t talk about it.
It wasn’t his fault that she’d wanted to meet Biggles, though. And Biggles liked her! Usually he growled at new people, like the grumpy old man he was, but with Lynn he had played it cool.
She told Mike he could see her paintings another time, and he planned to hold her to it. He wanted to make an offer to buy one of them, and after that, he promised himself that he would leave her alone.
Yeah, that was it. Just one painting was all he needed. Then, whenever he thought of her and whatever warm feelings remained, he could look at that painting and still feel close to her without putting her in danger.
When he and Biggles got back home, Mike’s head was full of plans. The time away from his investigation had allowed the ideas to percolate. He got back on the computer and found Stacy’s husband. The man posted online about every move that his family made.
As it turned out, the night that Stacy was driving Mrs. Benzini around, her nine-year-old daughter was having a ballet recital.
That was the ticket. There was no way that Stacy chose to miss that recital. Someone forced her to. Someone powerful, someone she was unable to cross.
Mike wasted no time. He flew to Olympia and waited outside of the Department of Natural Resources building for two hours.
He caught Stacy walking to her car right after five.
“Stacy Collinsworth?”
She looked at him warily, stopping in her tracks. “Yes?”
“I’m Michael Bandaro.” He always used his real first name, if he could help it. The fewer lies, the better. “I’ve been sent here to discuss a delicate issue with you. Would you have a moment?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Can I ask what this is about?”
“Of course. It’s in regards to a Rolls-Royce Phantom registered to a Mr. John Benzini.”
Stacy’s mouth popped open. “Am I in some sort of trouble?”
He smiled. She was so caught up in her panic that she didn’t even think to ask him for identification. Which was good, since he hadn’t taken the time to make any.
The confidence helped too, of course.
“I understand if you’d prefer not to have this conversation around your coworkers,” he said, motioning toward the building.
“Right.”
“We could go for a walk? Or I could give you my secure line, and you can give me a call whenever works best for you.”
“Uh, okay. Yes, I can take your number.”
He smiled again. She was already quite spooked – he didn’t want to make the poor woman fear for her life. He handed her a slip of paper with one of his throwaway phone numbers on it.
“You can reach me there twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I’ll be waiting for your phone call. Have a nice day.”
She nodded, staring at the paper. “Thanks. You too.”
Stacy was a busy woman, for sure, but he expected a call soon. Regular people didn’t handle the stress of crime well. They cracked easily, and told the police everything.
Stacy seemed like a normal person – exceedingly normal. A pawn, probably, and not the mastermind by any means. Not only was she stuck with the crummy job of driving Benzini’s wife around, but she had immediately agreed to talk to him, even if she didn’t realize it, and had asked if she was “in trouble.”
If he were a betting man, he’d count on her call within twenty-four hours.
Mike got back home and decided to kill time by looking into Lenny and Jared’s recent movements. Jared was fairly easy to track – the man lived a public life. It seemed that he was busy with the gallery now, and interestingly, built a community around himself on Orcas Island.
After almost killing someone over a battle for some land and being publicly exposed, a normal person would’ve been too ashamed to come back. But not Jared. He was a man without the ability to feel shame.
