The Watcher (A Miranda and Parker Mystery Book 4) Read online

  And he probably was doing that even more often now if he was trying to cover up his whereabouts.

  “We can start a search,” Parker said. “But it will take time with the sparse information we have.”

  “No. You and Miranda must go to Rio. I know you could find him, Wade. You could talk some sense into him.”

  Tia thought they could talk this guy out of murdering her? She obviously didn’t understand the mind of a killer. On the other hand, if they found the creep they could start following him and maybe get enough to prove he’d sent those letters and tried to sabotage their car. That would land him in jail for awhile anyway.

  She glanced over at Parker and met his gaze. His expression told her his thoughts mirrored hers.

  He turned back to Tia. “You’re forgetting we don’t have transportation.”

  “You can take Didi’s car.”

  Miranda stifled a laugh. “I don’t think so, Tia.”

  “Go by bus then.”

  Parker’s brow furrowed in frustration. “And how long will that take?”

  “The bus goes to São Paulo first,” Valdinho supplied. “The trip would be over seventeen hours one way.”

  Parker shook his head. “That’s far too long. Even by car it would take too long. I won’t leave you alone for that length of time.”

  Tia stared down at her desk, her face broadcasting the fight she was having with the panic raging inside her. Miranda felt for her. She knew what it was like to be terrorized by a husband.

  Suddenly it came to her. “Wait a minute.” She looked at Tia. “Doesn’t your courier have a private plane?”

  “Yes. That is how he delivers mail and packages so quickly.”

  How they got their samples back to the Parker Agency so fast.

  Valdinho shook his head. “Maximilian is a client of mine. His plane has only two seats. He carries the mail in a small cargo compartment. He could take only one of you.”

  Parker stiffened. “Miranda and I are not going to split up.”

  Miranda turned to Parker. “You have a pilot’s license, don’t you?”

  “In the US. It’s not valid here.”

  Miranda gave Parker a light punch on the arm. “You’ve never been above bending the rules before. Isn’t flying the same here?”

  “Basically.”

  “How long would it take to get to Rio in Maximilian’s plane?”

  “Depending on weather conditions, two hours or a little less.”

  “If we left early we could be back here by noontime tomorrow.” At the very least they could get some information out of someone at the modeling agency. Or if they actually found the sucker, they could start tailing him. “What do you say?”

  The strain showing in the lines on his handsome face, Parker studied his client, her attorney, Miranda for a long moment.

  At last, he nodded. “Very well. If the courier agrees.”

  ###

  Tia made the call to the courier and he was only too eager to help. After escorting Tia and her lawyer back to her house, Miranda and Parker headed to the cottage for a light dinner from room service and an early bedtime. They’d once again be leaving at the crack of dawn.

  Miranda went to shower while Parker ordered another breakfast basket for the morning. When she stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and drying her hair with another, she caught Parker holding her cell phone.

  “What?”

  Stone-faced, he handed it to her. “The ringtone was from the office. I didn’t think you’d mind if I checked the message.”

  Oh my God, she thought. Was that an answer from Becker?

  “Course not,” she lied, forcing down her panic as she scanned the text. Sure enough, it was from her buddy.

  Tell the boss we’re still working on the samples he sent. Should have something soon. Nothing on that other thing.

  Thank God he hadn’t been more explicit.

  But she shuddered at the sound of Parker’s dark voice. “Other thing?”

  Her mind raced for a cover and landed on the first thing she could think of. Anniversary surprise.

  She cocked her head and shot him a sly grin. “Sorry. Can’t tell you about that.”

  Parker narrowed his eyes in a knowing smile as he took her in his arms and held her close. “Are you keeping secrets from me, Miranda?”

  She forced out a laugh. “Just one or two. Hey we need to get to bed. Five a.m. comes early.” She broke out of his embrace and half danced to the bed.

  Shedding the towels and crawling under the covers, she hid her face in the pillow while guilt pummeled her insides.

  Parker pulled back the covers and lay down next to his wife, unsure of what his own heart was telling him. He wanted to believe she was hiding an anniversary surprise for him. Passing messages from Joan Becker through her husband. But something in her eyes just now had told him there was more to it.

  He turned out the light and reached for her in the darkness. She turned over and snuggled against his shoulder, still hiding her face.

  He thought of the promise they’d made to each other a few weeks ago. No more secrets. No more hidden agendas between them.

  As he drifted off to sleep he only hoped she was keeping her end of that bargain.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Just as the sun was rising the next morning they climbed into Valdinho’s VW, and the lawyer and Tia drove them to Maximilian’s airstrip a couple miles north of town.

  After Miranda said goodbye and hustled out of the narrow backseat, she saw a small hangar and a gleaming white single engine plane waiting in front of it.

  Maximilian stood beside the plane, his silver gray hair blowing in the gentle breeze. As she and Parker approached he greeted them with hearty handshakes. “I have already checked out the bird. She is good to go.”

  Parker surveyed the aircraft. “If you don’t mind, Max, I’d like to check her out myself.”

  “Be my guest.”

  Parker took his time checking the propeller, the wings, the tires and landing gear, the fuel tank. Miranda felt antsy but after what had happened yesterday, they couldn’t be too careful.

  Finally Parker finished. “Everything looks in order.”

  “Of course, it is.” Max nodded, his eyes twinkling. “I have filed your flight plan. Weather is good. Headwind is excellent. You should be fine.”

  “Very well, then. Thank you, Max.”

  “Anything for Tia.”

  Parker helped Miranda climb up to the passenger seat then jogged around the plane’s nose to take the pilot’s spot. Max handed her another basket of Fuba cakes and coffee courtesy of the kitchen at the resort, then closed the Plexiglas door, locking her in. As before, she and Parker were in business clothes and had decided not to bring a change since they’d be back in the early afternoon.

  They buckled up and Parker began working with the dials on the control panel. There were a ton of them. Lots of numbers and graphics she didn’t understand. Finally he handed her a set of headphones.

  She slipped them on.

  His low, sexy voice trickled through the ear pads. “Can you hear me?”

  She nodded. “Am I the copilot?”

  “More or less.”

  At least he was confident about it.

  He turned on the engine and the aircraft rumbled to life.

  She peered ahead out the windshield. The narrow airstrip stretched before them into the misty air. Excitement mixed with a smidgen of terror rippled through her. This was a little like walking a giant plank.

  “This plane is safe, right?”

  Parker just gave her a smile.

  Through the earphones she heard jabbering in Portuguese.

  “Instructions from the nearest control tower,” Parker explained and jabbered back, impressing the heck out of her.

  She could pick out some of the numbers. They were similar to Spanish. Cinco, five. Dois, two. Quarto, four. But what the long strings of them meant beat the heck out of her.


  “The traffic controllers are regional here but in Rio they’ll speak English,” Parker explained. “We have clearance.” He pushed a few more buttons.

  The engine revved louder and they began to move. He pushed the throttle forward. They rolled faster, faster, and just before they reached the end of the little runway, the nose lifted off the ground.

  Miranda sucked in a long breath. They were in the air. Whoohoo!

  Ears popping, she peered down into the mountains below. There was green everywhere, glistening under the early morning sun. The deep dark green of the forests. A lighter green of the grassy pastures below. A variously shaded checkerboard she took to be patches of farmland.

  She spotted the zigzaggy road they had taken yesterday and the deep valley the Beamer would have tumbled into. But even that sight couldn’t dampen the exhilaration she felt.

  “This is way cool, Parker.”

  “I live to entertain,” he said wryly.

  She wanted to give him a punch but didn’t dare while he was at the controls.

  They more or less followed a river for a long while until they crossed another set of mountains. This ridge didn’t seem as high and Parker lowered the plane’s altitude.

  Finally he sat back. “We’re through the rough part. We’ll basically be following this ridge until we reach the city.”

  “Yah!” she grinned. “Want some breakfast?”

  “Yes. And some coffee.”

  She reached into the basket they’d brought from the resort and handed him a cake, then poured him a cup of coffee. She took one of the cakes herself but something in the pit of her stomach said no thanks to the hot brew. Instead she found a cool bottle of water in the basket and helped herself to that.

  Finishing the cake she eyed the second u-shaped steering wheel in front of her. “Why is that thing moving on its own?”

  Parker chuckled. “Because this Cessna has dual control. It’s called the yoke. It controls the aircraft’s orientation to the earth, or the attitude. Here. Try it.” He let go of his controls.

  Automatically Miranda’s fingers clamped onto hers. “What do I do?”

  “Push up. Gently.”

  She did and the nose of the plane went up. She let out a little squeal. “Is this supposed to happen?”

  “Yes. Now bring it back down.”

  She leveled the steering wheel and the nose became steady again.

  “See those pedals on the floorboard?”

  She glanced down. “Do they work like a car?”

  “Not exactly. Gently press down on the left pedal while turning the yoke to the left.”

  She followed his instructions and her adrenaline spiked as the plane turned left. She did the same to the right and the plane turned right. She couldn’t help giggling. “This is a hoot.”

  “Glad you enjoyed it.” He took back control and made a slight adjustment to get them back on course. Then he pointed to a number on the panel. “This is the aircraft’s call sign. It’s similar to a license plate on a car. It uniquely identifies us to the control tower.”

  “Okay.”

  He went over the frequencies for communication on the transceiver. Then he explained the controls for the flaps, the airspeed, the turn coordinator, the altitude, and how to tell whether you were upside down or right side up.

  It was all cool but there was no way she could remember everything. Still, she might want to take some lessons when they got back home.

  Parker smiled at her tenderly. “You can relax now. We’re on autopilot.”

  “Nice.” She gazed out the window at the miles below drifting by. She had too much on her mind to relax. “So what’s our plan to find Rico?”

  “We’ll start at the coffee shop where his Cielo card was charged yesterday, then visit the agency.”

  “Same approach as yesterday? The accountant bit?”

  He nodded. “Unless you have something better.”

  She thought a moment. “No. We ought to get something that way. I just hope it will be enough.”

  “Yes.” He finished his second cup of coffee and handed it to her.

  They floated along, cloud-like for a long while, engine purring, propeller whirring, clear blue sky ahead. The earth glided along below them like a travel agent’s slideshow. It looked like they were moving at a snail’s pace, but she knew they were going almost three times as fast as a car—and with no stops and in a straight line. This was the way to get where you wanted to go.

  The terrain below began to level out and city buildings appeared in the distance.

  The sight shot another bolt of adrenaline through her. “Is that Rio down there?”

  Parker shook his head. “Not yet. But we’re close. We’ll be approaching Galeão International shortly.”

  She did a little bounce in her seat. “Great.”

  They drifted along for another little while until Parker began to get restless. He rubbed his neck as if he had a crick in it. “Do you feel strange?”

  “Strange? What do you mean?”

  “Groggy. I’m suddenly feeling very tired.”

  “Didn’t you sleep well?”

  “I thought I did.”

  She felt fine except for the stab of fear he’d just given her. Maybe it was nerves. Parker didn’t like to admit it but he felt stress and fear and all the other emotions mere mortals experienced. Flying a strange plane in a strange country where you’re not supposed to had to take a toll on him.

  She turned to look at him and saw his head bob forward.

  Panic shot through her. “Parker, what’s wrong?”

  He jolted up and shook himself with a scowl. “I don’t know. Did that coffee taste funny to you?”

  “The coffee? I didn’t have any.” She opened the top of the thermos that he’d used for a cup and sniffed. She put her nose close to the lid and did the same. Her throat went dry. It smelled faintly of…medicine?

  She looked back at Parker. His head was on the steering column. They were pitching left. The movement must have taken them off autopilot.

  Remembering what he’d taught her she grabbed onto her controls and steadied the plane. Reaching over with one hand she took hold of the back of Parker’s collar and lifted his head. It rolled back, limp as a dishrag.

  His eyes were closed.

  Heart hammering in her chest, she gave him a gentle shake. “Parker. Parker wake up.”

  He didn’t respond.

  She let go of the yoke and slapped his cheek.

  He half moaned something but didn’t open his eyes.

  “You’ve got to be okay, Parker. You’ve got to be okay.” Sudden tears stung her eyes.

  The plane was pitching again. As gently as she could she laid Parker’s head back against the seat and took the controls again. Dear God, what was she going to do? She couldn’t fly this aircraft by herself. Not all the way to Rio de Janiero. She didn’t even know where they were. Not from up here.

  Wait.

  She tried again. “Parker, it’s time to wake up. Parker, we’re getting to Rio and I can’t fly this thing. Okay, this is a funny joke but it’s time to get serious now.”

  Nothing.

  As the purring of the engine hummed in her ears, her chest constricted and she wondered if she would pass out next.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  As if they had a will of their own, Miranda’s fingers gripped the yoke in front of her hard. She could steer the plane. But her hands were trembling hard. Her whole body was trembling. Panic welled up inside her and attacked her brain.

  She couldn’t think. She could barely breathe. She couldn’t put two coherent thoughts together. All she knew was for the second time in two days she and Parker were about to die.

  No. Hell, no. Not if she could help it.

  She opened her mouth and forced air into her lungs. Her hands began to steady, her mind to clear. Suddenly she was aware of the Portuguese in her ears.

  She sat up. “Hello? Uh, come in. I need help here.”
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  The voice just kept on talking, rattling off meaningless numbers and words. Gradually she began to realize the words weren’t Portuguese. Well, the accent was, but the words themselves were some odd form of English.

  She must be near Rio. Didn’t Parker say the controllers would speak English there? She put the mouthpiece of her headphones to her lips. “Hello? Hello?”

  The voice just kept talking gibberish.

  Wait. Parker had explained communication with the tower was done through…the transceiver? The transponder?

  She peered at the numbers posted above the dials on the dash. They didn’t make any sense…until she spotted the last one.

  May Day.

  Quickly she turned the knobs until they matched the posted number. “May Day!” she said into the mic. “May Day! May Day!”

  A voice seemed to respond but it was still just nonsense. The man repeated the phrases several times. Finally he said something she understood. “Go ahead.”

  “Hello? Hello? I’m in trouble.”

  He said the phrase again several times. Papa, Papa, November, Lima, Zulu.

  Huh?

  Once more she glanced at the numbers on the dash. The first letters of those words corresponded to the call sign Parker had shown her. It was some kind of crazy code.

  She grabbed the mic again. “Yes. Papa, Papa, November, Lima, Zulu. That’s me. I need help.”

  The voice crackled in her ears again. “State last known position.” The accent was heavy but at least she could make out the words now, except….

  “I have no idea what my position is. My pilot is unconscious. I’ve never flown a plane before in my life.”

  “Your pilot is incapacitated?”

  Didn’t she just say that? “Yes. Out cold.” She shivered at her own words. “We were on our way to Rio de Janiero, Galeão International airport, when he passed out. He said we were getting close.”

  She peered out the side window and spotted the famous Jesus statue below her, arms spread wide. She murmured a silent prayer. Beyond stood clusters and clusters of buildings—like Lego blocks on steroids. A bay full of little white dots she took to be boats. Rocky ridges she could easily crash into. More jutting from the ocean beyond.