The Line Between Here and Gone (Forensic Instincts 2)
They reached the van just as the pickup truck sped by. The diesel blocked out any other sound, and the two men didn’t even glance out the window, much less see Marc or Ryan.
Ryan crept around to the driver’s side, and Marc half rose, staring at the back of the truck, trying to make out the grime-covered license plate. He could ba
rely catch one number and one letter, it was so dark. Ironically, the thing that helped him see was the eerie light burning from behind them as the cabin burned to the ground.
“They’re gone. Get in,” Marc commanded. He and Ryan jumped into the van. Ryan backed it up and swerved out of their hiding spot and onto the road, speeding away from the fire as far and as fast as he could.
Marc was on his secure cell phone, calling 9-1-1. “I’m on the Hampton Bays side of Shinnecock Bay, off Lynn Avenue. There’s a fire at the marina. It looks bad. Send someone over ASAP.” He disconnected the call. “That takes care of that.”
“Shit.” Ryan dragged a sleeve across his forehead, sounding off balance and exhilarated at the same time. “That was like something out of a movie.”
A corner of Marc’s mouth lifted. “If you say so.”
Ryan gave him a sideways glance. “I guess that sounded pretty lame to you. I can BASE jump with the best of them. I’m just used to doing extreme sports for fun. I’m not used to doing military exercises to escape midnight arsonists.”
“You performed well under pressure.” Marc’s official-sounding praise was genuine. “You’re in great physical shape. And don’t kid yourself. You might get good at things like this, but you never get used to them. Violence is still violence.”
“Shit,” Ryan reiterated. “Either that hotel project is jinxed, or there’s something attached to it that makes the developer a target for killers.”
Marc nodded. “Which seems to support the theory that Paul Everett was a victim, not a participant. Someone wanted him out of the way.”
“Out of the way, but not dead. And now they’re following suit with Morano.” Ryan exhaled sharply. “This gets weirder and sketchier by the minute.”
“Yeah.” Marc looked thoughtful. “I think we’d better head over to Morano’s now and plant that tracker on his car. Once the firefighters rush over here to douse the pile of rubble that Morano’s office will soon be, and the cops show up to investigate, they’ll call the owner. And Morano will be down here like Greased Lightning.”
“Agreed. Not a good idea to plant a GPS tracking device with a swarm of cops and the owner of the car in your face. Let’s head straight over to Morano’s place before we drive to Westhampton Beach and crash at Amanda’s. We can be at Morano’s apartment in ten minutes and done and out of there in twenty.”
* * *
Ryan and Marc had just finished their task and hiked up the flight of stairs to Amanda’s apartment when Ryan’s cell phone rang.
He glanced down at the caller ID.
“It’s Claire,” he told Marc. Punching on the phone, he answered Claire in a short, clipped tone. “Hang on a sec.”
He waited until both he and Marc were inside the apartment, before resuming the conversation.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Are you okay?” Her voice was tight and anxious.
“Yeah, why?”
“I just got a quick flash that freaked me out. It was a fire, a big one, engulfing a shack on the water. I was afraid it might have something to do with you and Marc and your visit to Morano’s. I’m glad I was wrong.”
“You weren’t wrong.” Ryan dropped his gym bag and sank down on the sofa. “Morano’s office just went up in flames. And it wasn’t caused by a cigarette butt. Marc and I saw two men douse the place with gasoline and light the match.”
A sharp intake of breath. “Who were they trying to kill? Morano or you two?”
“None of the above. Morano was at home—we knew that and I’m sure they did, too. And they never saw Marc or me. We hid out until they were gone. Then we got the hell out of there.”
“So you weren’t near the cabin when it happened?”
“We were near enough. We got front row seats. But we didn’t get roasted.”
“That’s not funny.”
Ryan leaned back on the couch, finding himself smiling. “You were worried about me, Claire-voyant. I’m touched. I never knew you cared so much.”