Read Think Twice Page 24


  “No, but we have a lead,” the cop answered. “We checked the airport, and there’s a Bennie Rosato ticketed on the last flight to Miami, with a connection to Nassau, in the Bahamas.”

  “When’s the flight?” Bennie asked.

  “In half an hour.”

  “The airport’s twenty minutes away. We have to go now.”

  “Hold on, it’s taken care of.” The cop held up a warning hand. “My captain is coordinating with the TSA and the FBI. We’re holding the plane, claiming weather delays, and we’re already setting up a stake-out. The minute she shows up, we’ll arrest her. The A.D.A. is meeting us there.”

  “Nassau?” Bennie’s thoughts raced ahead. “The Bahamas have offshore banking. She has my bank accounts and my ID. She changed all the passwords. She’s moving my money to the Bahamas.”

  “You’re right.” Grady’s eyes flared an alarmed blue. “I saw a DHL envelope in her office, going to BSB. She told me she had a new banking client.”

  “That’s it then.” Bennie flashed on her call with Marla. “I need to talk to someone at USABank.”

  “It’s after hours.”

  “I’ll want more than a teller. I met the president of the bank once. Ron Engel. He lives in Society Hill.” Bennie turned to Grady. “Do you have a cell phone?”

  “No, it got wet.”

  “Here.” A cop handed her a phone, and Bennie flipped it open and called information for Ron Engel.

  “I’m sorry,” the operator said. “That number is unlisted.”

  “This is a police emergency.” Bennie handed the phone back to the officer. “Please get the number and the address for Ron Engel. We have to talk to him.”

  “Hello?” the cop said, putting the phone to his ear on the fly.

  Bennie hustled out of the waiting room, ahead of Grady and the cops.

  Chapter Ninety-six

  Alice kept swimming, getting her second wind. Her legs went rubbery but they were still churning. Her arms wind-milled. She was only fifty feet from Jersey. She swam ugly but she was getting there, stroke by stroke.

  The fifty feet became forty, then thirty, and she looked up, wondering how to get up onto shore. There were dark industrial buildings ahead, with a crumbling stone wall lining the riverbank. She couldn’t see more through the rain. She swam like a demon, ignoring the downpour. She closed in on the stone wall, ten feet, then finally five.

  She treaded water for a minute, her chest heaving. The wall crumbled in parts, and she finally reached it, grappling the edge with her fingertips. It felt slick and cold, and she groped for a ledge between the stones. She found one and tried to hoist herself up. The messenger bag was a dead weight but she couldn’t let it go. She slipped back down, splashing into the water.

  She tried again. Her fingertips raked the stone. She found a grip and pulled herself up with all of her might. She started climbing, wedging her hands and toes into the cracks. She clawed her way to the top and flopped exhausted on top of the wall, then rolled over it into the mud and scrambled to her feet.

  She hurried out of the shadows and ran across a parking lot. It was a deserted industrial stretch, and she hurried past abandoned cars rusting in place. She ran along the street, and ahead shone the lights and attractions of the Camden waterfront. Rain ricocheted off the asphalt. Stones dug into her soles but she kept running. There wasn’t much traffic, and a minivan sped past her, spraying water and grit.

  A sign read WIGGINS PARK AHEAD, but it looked too far away. She

  didn’t have time to waste. She had to get to the airport. She couldn’t keep up this pace much longer.

  A cab turned the corner, slowing at a stop sign, and she bolted for it, tore open its back door, and shouted at the woman passenger, “Get out!”

  “Hey! What?” The young girl edged backwards in fear, her short dress riding up. “Help!”

  The cab driver twisted around, startled. “Lady, what’re you doin’? This is my cab!”

  Alice yanked the girl out by her elbow, then slammed the door closed. “Drive! There’s five hundred bucks in it for you!”

  “Bull!”

  “Drive, I said!” Alice stuck a hand into her soggy messenger bag, where the bundles of money sat in a pool of water. She grabbed one and waved it at the cabbie, spraying him. “It’s wet but it’s green.”

  “Whoa!” The cabbie hit the gas. “Where we goin’?”

  “To the airport, and hurry.”

  Chapter Ninety-seven

  Mary stood at Judy’s bedside while she rested, a greenish oxygen tube snaking her friend’s nose, an IV running to the back of her hand, and a plastic wire traveling to a clip on her index finger. She had gone into shock, but the bullet had only pierced her shoulder and she was going to be fine. Mary sent up a thankful prayer as her mother smothered Judy’s face with kisses.

  “Ma.” She placed a hand on her mother’s soft back. “If you keep this up, she’ll need more oxygen.”

  “Jud’, Jud’, ti amo.” Her mother smoothed Judy’s bright red bangs from her forehead. “Ti amo.”

  “Thanks.” Judy smiled and her weary gaze shifted to Mary’s father, who was attached to her hand more securely than the IV. “I love you guys.”

  “WE LOVE YOU, TOO, KIDDO.” Her father patted her hand, and Mary smiled.

  “Jude, your parents are on the way, and we told them you were okay. We caught them right before their plane took off.”

  “Good. Thanks.” Judy sighed, and her eyes fell on Mary, at the foot of the bed. For a minute neither of them said anything.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mary said, softly.

  “What for?”

  “For not believing you. For giving you such a hard time. For being such a bad friend. For almost getting you killed.”

  “Guilt city.” Judy reached for her hand. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

  “Yes I do.”

  “No, you don’t. It’s okay. Friends fight.”

  “Not us.”

  “Once every ten years, even us. That’s how we know we care. Agree with me, would you? I’m perforated, for God’s sake.”

  “Okay. I agree.” Mary nodded.

  “Where’s Bennie and Grady?”

  “Off, after Alice.”

  “Good.” Judy’s gaze shifted toward the door, which was opening.

  They all turned to see who was coming in, including Mary.

  Standing in the threshold was Anthony.

  Chapter Ninety-eight

  Bennie, Grady, and two cops, Officers Stern and Rigton, crowded onto the front step of the Society Hill town house, and the door was opened by a tall, bald man in a red plaid bathrobe, whom they’d clearly gotten out of bed.

  “I’m Ron Engel, folks,” he said, extending a hand. “Officers, good to see you. Please excuse my appearance. Do come in.”

  “Ron, hello.” Bennie had spoken to him on the phone but he’d insisted on seeing her in person. “Do you remember me? We met a few months ago, and I’m a private client of yours.”

  “I remember you, yes. Come on in out of this weather.” Engel let everyone in to a well-appointed anteroom with a cherry console table, a sculptural ceramic lamp, and a Persian rug. “I made some calls to my team in private banking, in reference to this matter.”

  “What’s happening?” Bennie asked. Grady stood next to her, but she didn’t pay him any attention. She wasn’t the woman he remembered anymore, anyway. “Ron, is Alice moving my money and how can we stop her?”

  Officer Stern looked over, frowning under the wet bill of his cap. “Miss Rosato, we agreed we’d handle this.”

  “You are,” Bennie shot back. “So am I.”

  “To begin, I spoke with Legal about it.” Engel glanced at Officer Stern. “Officer, are we sure this is the real Bennie Rosato? I wouldn’t want to expose the bank to any liability.”

  Officer Stern nodded. “This is Bennie Rosato. We expect to have Alice Connelly in custody tonight. At this juncture, she’s a fug
itive from a charge of attempted murder, among other things.”

  “Murder?” Engel’s graying eyebrows flew upward, and Bennie ran out of patience.

  “I need to stop her from transferring that money.”

  “We can’t. I’ve checked, and all of your accounts were already wired to BSB on Nassau.”

  “All my accounts? Everything?”

  “Yes.” Engel’s lips set. “The bank is not liable in this matter, because, as you know, Miss Connelly presented all the proper identification and she—”

  “I’m not going to sue you,” Bennie interrupted. “Can’t we call the Nassau bank and prevent the transfer? Right now?”

  “No. No one’s there, and the transfer is electronic and instantaneous. It goes through, regardless. It already has.”

  “That’s impossible. I don’t have an account there.”

  “Yes, you do. She opened one. It will be opened automatically the first thing tomorrow morning, and the money’s already in it. We do it all the time for private banking clients.” Engel cocked his graying head. “USABank is merely a stakeholder in this matter. We had no choice but to transfer the money when properly instructed to do so—”

  “Ron, there has to be some way to undo that transfer.”

  “Please.” Engel held up a hand. “We can’t undo the transfer, but we can freeze the accounts. We’ll send an email that will instruct BSB, the Bahamian bank, not to permit any withdrawals or transfers from any of the accounts. I’ll follow up with a phone call personally, first thing on Tuesday morning.”

  “Will that prevent her from withdrawing it, for sure?”

  “Yes. BSB is our partner bank. If we instruct them that the legality of the transfer is in question, they’ll put a hold on the accounts.” Engel frowned. “No one pushes millions of dollars across a counter that easily. That’s not how it works. She can only transfer the money by presenting herself at the bank, and after we freeze the accounts, the funds won’t be available to her.”

  “If she shows up there, what will she be told?”

  “That the accounts are frozen.”

  “Alice will go down there, anyway. She’ll try to find a way to withdraw the money.”

  Officer Stern said, “No, she won’t, Bennie. We’ll pick her up tonight. She won’t get on that plane.”

  Engel gestured. “There you have it, Bennie. Your ultimate solution is with the authorities. That’s what Legal tells me, too.”

  Bennie thought something felt wrong. Her brain stalled, and she wondered if it was the pill working, or if she needed another. She looked at the cops, from one to the other. “What if you don’t stop her?”

  “We will.” Officer Stern was confident. “We’ll leave right now. She won’t get past us. She can’t.”

  “Then let’s go,” Bennie said, on fire.

  Chapter Ninety-nine

  Alice handed the cabbie back his phone and perched on the edge of her seat. The car wasn’t going any faster than a crawl, and it was making her crazy. She had to get to the airport. “Can’t you go any faster?” she asked, again. “I told you, rock this crate!”

  “Rain’s terrible. Can’t see a damn thing. Doin’ my best.”

  “Do better.”

  The cab lurched forward, and Alice thought ahead, taking a mental inventory. She had an ID, passport, and money, but she was pretty sure her gun hadn’t survived the swim.

  “I need to buy a gun,” she said.

  “There’s a gun shop, but it’s not on the way.”

  “No good. You know anybody who could meet us on the way with one? There’s a hundred bucks in it for you.”

  “Lady, you can’t take a gun on the plane, anyways.”

  “Let me worry about that. You know anybody or not?”

  “Matter o’ fact, I do.” The cabbie looked in the rearview. “I got one.”

  “Of course you do!” Alice almost cheered. “Let me see it.”

  The cabbie seemed to stall, his eyes on the road.

  “I’m not gonna shoot you, grandpa.”

  The cabbie reached under the seat, straightened up, and passed her a revolver, its dull muzzle glinting in the darkness.

  She pushed out the chamber and gave it a slow whirl. Six round gold circles smiled back at her. “I’ll give you two hundred bucks.”

  “S’worth three.”

  “Okay.”

  “You expensin’ it?” the cabbie asked, chuckling.

  “You’re a funny guy, you know that?”

  “Tell my wife, would ya?”

  The bright lights of the airport lay ahead, in the distance. “We almost there?”

  “Sure enough.”

  Alice smiled. Home, free.

  Chapter One Hundred

  Mary’s emotions came rushing back at the sight of Anthony. His eyes were troubled and his expression dark with concern.

  “ANT, HOW YOU DOIN’?” Her father gave him a bear hug, and her mother waddled after, clucking.

  “Ant’n’y, what’s a matta, you no love my Maria no more? You no happy no more?”

  “Ma!” Mary’s head exploded. “Please!”

  “It’s . . . not like that, Mrs. DiNunzio,” Anthony stammered, and Judy waved from the bed with a weak grin.

  “Yoo hoo! I’m over here and I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Hiya.” Anthony walked to the bedside. “So you’re alive. Way to go.”

  “I know, right?” Judy smiled. “Nice of you to come.”

  “It’s all over the news, did you see?” Anthony gestured at the TV in the corner, but it was off. “Anyway, how are you?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Not yet.”

  “They said you were shot. When do you get out of the hospital?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Not really. The troops are here, and Frank’s on the way.”

  “Great.” Anthony shifted his feet, plainly uncomfortable. “Well, I guess I’d better go. On the news they said you were critical.”

  “I am,” Judy said, and everybody laughed except for Mary’s mother, who couldn’t follow the conversation.

  “Okay, well, see you all.” Anthony gave Judy a peck on the cheek, then turned awkwardly away. He went to the doorway and paused on the threshold. “Judy, hope you feel better soon.”

  “I will, thanks.”

  “Good-bye.” Anthony left, closing the door behind him. Everybody fell quiet a minute, and all the heads turned to Mary.

  “They got a cardiac unit here?” she asked.

  Chapter One Hundred and One

  Bennie leaned forward in the backseat of the cruiser, where she was sitting with Grady, her purse in her lap. A long line of red taillights snaked ahead of them, and they were barely moving. “Can’t we go any faster?” she asked, through the metal grate.

  “No. It’s the traffic and the weather.”

  “Can’t we use the siren?”

  “It’s not procedure. The plane isn’t going anywhere, and we don’t want to tip her off, either.”

  “You got all the flights covered, right?”

  “Yes. We know what we’re doing. Sit back and relax.”

  Bennie tried to stay calm, and the traffic finally loosened. The cruiser broke free, accelerating as a minivan and an SUV cleared out of the fast lane.

  Grady patted her arm. “We’re almost there. You feeling okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “How’s that hand? It looks kind of raw.”

  “It’s fine.” Bennie boosted herself up in the seat. Just ahead, the bright lights of the airport cut through the rain, making a halo in the dark sky.

  “Go, go, go,” she said under her breath.

  Chapter One Hundred and Two

  “Go, go, go,” Alice said under her breath, boosting herself up in the backseat. The cab turned onto the ramp to the airport, leaving the highway traffic behind.

  “Finally, eh
?”

  “Hurry, hurry, hurry.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Alice opened the soggy messenger bag and withdrew the droopy bills, including the fare and the gun. She unstuck her wet blouse from her shirt, smoothed back her hair, and got ready to hustle. Only a few cars were parked in front of the terminal, dropping people and luggage off. There were no cops in sight.

  The cabbie hit the gas, and she felt a smile spread across her face. She was almost out of the country, safe from Q, the cops, and Bennie. She’d have enough money to go anywhere and do anything. She’d be free.

  The cab pulled up in front of the terminal. “Here we are. Safe travels.”

  Alice got her bag and handed him the wad of bills. “Remember, you didn’t see me.”

  “Didn’t see who?” The cabbie laughed.

  Alice blew out the cab door.

  Running into the terminal.

  Chapter One Hundred and Three

  Mary and her parents looked over as a nurse bustled into the room, her smile bright despite the late hour.

  “Party’s over!” she said, cheerily. “I cut you a break, but it’s time to go.”

  Mary frowned. “Too bad Frank didn’t get here in time.”

  “It’s fine.” Judy waved her off. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Your need to rest, Miss Carrier.” The nurse took a blood pressure cuff from a plastic basket affixed to the wall. “I have meds for you, too.”

  Mary gave Judy’s arm a quick pat. “You gonna be okay, all by yourself?”

  “Yep.” Judy looked up, her blue eyes washed-out. “How about you, without Anthony?”

  “Sure.” Mary managed a smile as her parents took turns kissing Judy.

  “My, my.” The nurse laughed, wrapping the black cuff around her upper arm. “You got any face left?”

  “See you, honey.” Mary picked up her purse and waited for her parents, who trundled out of the room, their faces falling as if they’d checked their trouble at the door. She slipped an arm around her mother, and they walked past the nurses’ station.