Submerged

Marcus mulled on that for a fleeting moment. “Kingston’s been screwing around for five years.” He was engulfed in a bone-tingling shiver. “What a bastard.”

“But not a murdering bastard.”

“Still,” Marcus said, “he won’t win any ‘husband of the year’ award.”

“Maybe he’ll do better the second time around. Some men do.” Zur arched a brow.

“You talking about me? Whoa, there. I’m not looking to get married anytime soon.”

Zur let out a lengthy sigh. “Marcus, Marcus… one of these days, you’re going to have to explore your emotions more fully. Let someone in. Love again. We’ve been friends far too long for me to pussyfoot around with you. You need to get a life.”

“You sound like Leo.”

“Leo Lombardo? Your 911 buddy?”

“Yeah, you know him?”

“We met at Jane’s funeral.”

The air around Marcus grew thick.

“Sorry,” Zur said.

“For what? Mentioning Jane’s name? It’s not taboo.”

Zur shifted in his chair. “Isn’t it?”

Marcus’s gaze drifted to the French door that opened up to a terrarium full of plants. “I guess I haven’t been very open about how I feel about Jane and Ryan. It’s been tough. They’re not here. I am.”

“You deserve to be here.”

“Do I?” He stared into his friend’s eyes. “They had more to offer this world than I do. They should be alive. Not me.”

Zur shook his head. “If you’d died instead of them, what would’ve happened to Rebecca Kingston and her kids?”

Neither spoke. Seconds turned into minutes.

Finally, Marcus said, “You get anything from Delaney?”

He already knew the answer. If Delaney had given up his accomplice, Zur would’ve filled Marcus in right away.

“We threatened the guy with solitary, and he didn’t crack.”

“Seems kind of unusual.”

“How do you mean?”

“If Delaney had taken a job for hire and got a bit of money out of the deal, it seems he’d be happy to name whoever hired him, in exchange for maybe a lighter sentence or some perks. But he says nothing?”

“Someone has a real hold over him.”

“You thinking mob? Are we back to the whole casino theory?”

“I don’t know, Marcus. We’re going in circles here. We—” Zur bit his lip.

“What? Spit it out?”

Zur picked something slimy out of his sandwich and wiped his fingers on a napkin. “We were hoping whoever hired Delaney would make his move while Mrs. Kingston was in the hospital.”

“We’re playing the idea of setting a trap.”

“What kind?”

“One that involves Mrs. Kingston.”

Marcus’s eyes widened. “You want to use her as bait?”

“We’d have her covered. Lots of protection.”

“No! You can’t do this.”

Zur set down the half-eaten sandwich. “Look, we’re running out of options. Whoever went after Rebecca will most likely try it again. One night when she’s home alone maybe, when you’re not around to protect her.”

“You can’t put her life at risk like that. She has children who need her.”

“We think we could escalate things, draw this person out into the open. Then we’d have him. They’d be locked away. Rebecca and her kids would be safe. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Of course. But can’t you use a double or something? Maybe an undercover agent?”

Zur let out a snort. “That’s for the movies. We don’t have the budget for that. Marcus, we would have someone in the washroom in her robe watching her room with cameras. We’d have officers in plainclothes positioned outside her door. And I’d be there, not far from her room.”

Marcus chewed on the plan, his gut churning in rebellion. He didn’t like it. Something could go wrong.

But what if they caught him? Rebecca would never have to worry.

“What’s the plan exactly?” he asked.

“We’d have the doctors report a relapse in her health. Maybe she’s unconscious. We’d simultaneously report on an accident somewhere, something that police would have to respond to. We’d let the news know, everyone related to the case, and we’d make it known that we had to take the guard off her door because of this faux emergency. Word’ll spread fast.”

“But you’ll be here.”

Zur nodded. “I’ll be at the main station, a few doors from Mrs. Kingston’s room.”

“And the kids?”

“We’d move them to the fourth floor—pediatrics—to be safe.”

“How many officers near Rebecca’s room?”

“Four. They’d be positioned as nurses or patients. And then we’d wait.”

Marcus sighed. “Are you going to tell Rebecca?”

“We already have. We needed her permission.”

“Because she’ll be putting herself in harm’s way.”

“Yeah, but you can rest easy. We’ll have her well protected.” Zur chugged back his coffee and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Marcus, I know this isn’t the optimum strategy, but we’re running out of leads. And ideas. If we don’t try to coax this guy in, he could go underground for months.”

“And resurface when no one’s expecting him.”

“Exactly.”

“I have to see Rebecca.”

Zur stood. “Let’s go then. We’re setting everything into place now. You’ll have a few minutes before we fake her relapse. In fact, you could help make it believable.”

On the way up to Rebecca’s room, Zur filled him in on all the details.

Chapter Thirty-Eight