The Palm Beach Murders by James Patterson (best novels in english .txt) 📗

Chapter 22

Marty had a maniacal grin when he turned to me, raised his eyebrows, and said, “This is the big one. You ready for it?” He looked perfect, framed by the rail and the overhang where we were sitting. The sun was just over his head with the Gulfstream Park racetrack behind him.

He held a handful of tickets for the third race and threw in a cartoon madman’s laugh. Who wouldn’t smile at an act like that? He looked cute, dressed casually in a polo shirt and jeans. This was just another one of his surprises, and I had never been to a horse-racing track before.

Marty knew I loved horses but had been avoiding the polo fields of Wellington because I didn’t want to risk running into Brennan. I had casually mentioned it the evening before as we shared a bottle of wine on the beach. That was when he’d come up with this perfect alternative. We’d left this morning for the track in Hallandale Beach. It was a nice ride, about an hour away, and on a weekday, the place wasn’t too crowded. The hot dogs were good and the beer was cold. Marty had managed to sweep me off my feet once again.

When the starting gun sounded, the gates opened and the horses burst out like water from a broken dam. It didn’t bother me that there weren’t enough people around to make the cheers sound thrilling; I screamed for our horse anyway. We’d put no real thought into making a dozen bets on a horse named Sullivan’s Dream. Marty had showed me how to bet on the horse by itself, as well as in combination with other horses, and now we were about to see the result of our leap of faith.

Everything looked good until the third turn, where our horse slowed considerably, and before the race had been decided officially, we realized we were out of the money. Marty said, “Had enough of horses for the day?” He scooped up the losing tickets and stuffed them into his pocket.

“What did you have in mind?” It was warm, and I didn’t mind the idea of avoiding Broward County rush hour.

A few minutes later, I found myself on the shuttle heading toward the far reaches of the sprawling parking lot and my white Volvo S-60.

Marty said, “I’ll drive, if you don’t mind.”

I smiled as I thought about what a gentleman he was. Then we slipped onto I-95 and started cruising north.

I said, “This is great. Just what I needed. A few hours away from Palm Beach.” I realized that was the opposite of the opinion most people held.

Marty kept his eyes on the road as he said, “Glad you liked it.”

“What would you like to do now?”

He thought about it for a few seconds and then said tentatively, “I have a game in mind.”

“Anything you want. You’ve definitely earned it.”

Marty just gave me one of his smiles and didn’t say anything else. I was content with that. We let Adele’s music fill our silence as we zipped along the interstate northbound. I didn’t say a word when we passed our exit. Marty had already proved that his surprise trips were always worth the effort.

When we were more than an hour past Palm Beach, I finally said, “Is this all part of your game or are you lost?”

He kept a smile as he said, “All part of the game.”

“Want to fill me in?”

He just smiled, and I liked it. He looked a little nervous, with his fingers thumping on the steering wheel and his constant shifting in the seat. I didn’t really know what it meant, but I was willing to go along with the game.

We pulled off the interstate and took the long road east until we were on the edges of the city of Vero Beach.

I said, “Okay, I can guess that this game has something to do with your ex-wife. She lives here, right?”

Marty nodded. “She does. You still in?”

“Sure, I said I’ll play.”

“Then do me a favor and reach back into my jacket on the rear seat.”

I twisted and reached for the Windbreaker and immediately felt something heavy in the pocket. I pulled out the pistol and held it up.

“Is this what I think it is?”

Marty grinned and said, “If you think it’s the pistol I took from Brennan’s closet.” He made it sound innocent, like it was a shoe he had taken.

“What’s it for?” I kept my voice as even as possible.

“Our game.”

“What’s the game?”

“It’s called scare the shit out of my ex-wife, Teal.” He kept driving, taking a few turns, and said, “Come on, it’ll be good for a laugh.”

I didn’t say yes or no as we parked on a short cul-de-sac a few blocks from the ocean.

Marty pointed at one of the three houses on the right side of the road. A vacant lot took up the space on each side of it, separating it from the houses next door. “That’s her house.”

It was nice. Nothing like my old house, but it was clean and cute. A short walk to the beach. I was getting nervous as I considered all the crazy things that could happen. But I didn’t want to let Marty down, and frankly I was curious as to how he’d scare her. He was a smart guy. I was certain he had put some thought into this.

A brown Audi whipped down the street, then pulled into the driveway.

Marty said, “And heeeeere’s Teal.” Then he looked at me and said, “Are you sure you want to play? I could really use the help.”

I hesitated, then blocked out all the reasons I should say no. Instead I said, “Yeah, I’ll play.”

Chapter 23

Marty explained my part of his plan quickly, and I just nodded like a robot. It all sounded crazy to me. All I had to do was distract his ex-wife and he would do the rest. I still had no idea how badly he was going to scare her,