Whiskey Beach Part 119

No fear, he thought. Just none.

"He's using the drive of a rental cottage about an eighth of a mile from Bluff House. He's out and heading toward you on foot."

"We're ready for him. Give him that fifteen after he's in before you make the call."

"You got it. You were right about this part of it, Eli. I hope you're right about the rest. I'll be seeing you."

He turned his phone off, tucked it away. "You stay in here, as agreed."

"All right, but-"

"No buts. We don't have time to change the plan. Stay here, stay quiet and turn the light off." He took a moment to lean down and kiss her.

"You just remember I have your back."

"I'm counting on it." And on her staying closed in and safe.

He slipped out, easing the panel closed behind him. He took his position behind the shelves, letting his eyes adjust to the dark.

He could just switch the camera to record, stay inside with Abra. But he needed to see, to hear, needed to have his hand all the way in and be right there to make any change if necessary.

He didn't hear the back door open. He wasn't sure if he heard footsteps or imagined them. But he heard the creak of the bas.e.m.e.nt door, and the heavy footfalls on the narrow stairs.

Showtime, he thought, and switched the camera on.

He came in slowly, leading with the flashlight. Eli watched the wide beam sweep, sending its backwash from the generator room into the area beyond. Then the leading edge of it, into the old section, the man holding it no more than a shadow as the light painted over the walls, the floor, then lit over the shelves.

In the beats the beam crept over the shelves, the wall, Eli's heart kicked. He braced, ready-maybe eager-to pursue, to fight.

But the beam pa.s.sed on.

Secure now, Eli thought, as the work light flashed on. He saw Suskind clearly for the first time.

Dressed in black as he himself was, his hair clipped short now and streaked with blond. A new look, Eli decided, another way to blend into the vacation crowd.

He checked the viewfinder on the camera, adjusted it minutely as Suskind picked up the pickax. Those first hard thuds of blade striking ground rang satisfying to Eli.

Now you're done, he thought. Now we've got you.

He had to strap down the part of him that wanted to step out, to confront. Not yet, he ordered himself. Not quite yet.

Because his ears were tuned for it, he heard the sirens-dim against the thick walls-and watched Suskind continue to hack and dig at the ground, watched the sweat of the effort bead and roll on his face despite the cool air.

When the sirens silenced, Eli counted it off, and watched Suskind freeze when footsteps sounded overhead.

Suskind gripped the pick like a weapon now, eased over-very slowly, eyes wheeling left, right-to switch off the work light.

Eli gave him ten seconds in the dark, gauged his location by the labored breathing. As he slipped out from behind the shelves, he aimed his own flashlight, switched it on.

Suskind flung up an arm to shield his eyes from the glare.

"You're going to want to drop the pick, and switch the light back on."

Suskind squinted, took a two-handed grip on the pick. Eli waited as Suskind rolled to the b.a.l.l.s of his feet.

"Try it and I'll shoot you. I've got the Colt .45, the Peacemaker, from the third-floor gun collection, aimed at you, center ma.s.s. You may not be familiar with it, but it's loaded and it still works."

"You're bluffing."

"Try me. Please. And do it before the cops make it down here. You owe me blood for my grandmother, and I'm happy to take it."

Feet pounded down the stairs; Suskind's fingers whitened on the handle of the pick. "I'm ent.i.tled! This house is as much mine as yours. Everything in it's as much mine. The dowry's more mine."

"You think?" Eli said easily, then called out, "Back here. Hit some lights. Suskind's holding a pickax in a threatening manner."

"I should have killed you," Suskind said between his teeth. "I should have killed you after you murdered Lindsay."

"You're a fool. And that's really the least of it."

He stepped back, just a little, when the first light spilled into the far edge of the area, and shifted his gaze-again just a little-to meet Abra's eyes.

He'd heard her slip out behind him, out of safety.

Corbett, Vinnie and another uniformed deputy stepped in, fanned out, weapons drawn.

"Drop it," Corbett ordered. "Drop it now. There's no way out, Suskind."

"I have every right to be here!"

"Drop it. Put your hands up, and do it now."

"Every right!" Suskind tossed the pick aside. "He's the thief. He's the murderer."

"Just one thing," Eli said easily as he stepped forward, and between the police and Suskind.

"I want you to step back, Mr. Landon," Corbett ordered.

"Yeah, I got it." But first. He waited until Suskind met his eyes, until he was certain they saw each other. Then he punched his fist into Suskind's face with all the rage, all the pain, all the misery of the last year behind it.

When Suskind fell against the wall, Eli stepped back, lifted his hands to show he was done. "You owed me blood," he said, lowering one hand to show the smear of it over his knuckles.

"You'll pay for that. You'll pay for it all."

He didn't think as Suskind reached behind his back, just acted. The second blow knocked Suskind to the ground, had the gun he'd pulled clattering to the floor.

"I'm done paying."

"Hands where I can see them," Corbett snapped when Suskind moved. "You put your hands in the air, now! Stay back, Mr. Landon," Corbett warned him, using his foot to kick the gun out of reach. He nodded at Vinnie. "Deputy."