Page 132 of Trace of Doubt
“This is over.” I stepped in front of Marissa’s face. “Feds have the building surrounded. You have nowhere to run.”
“That’s what you think. Lee already told me. Head up the steps to the roof.”
“Please, let Aria—”
“Now!”
I climbed the steps behind Aria and recognized the whir of helicopter blades. The advantage of a top-floor penthouse and a landing pad made a getaway easier. How had this happened when I’d drugged them?
Where were we going? Why not kill me, then make her escape? Aria deserved much more from life than the hand dealt to her.
My mind twisted with my failure. Had I heard wrong? I’d believed God stood with me in finding the evidence to arrest my sister.
Aria opened the door to the rooftop, and a chopper sat on the helipad ready for departure. I expected the noise to be deafening, yet I still heard Marissa order us inside. Why hadn’t I planned for Marissa having a helicopter at the ready?
Aria and I slid into the rear passenger seats, and my sister took the left side beside the pilot and put on a headset. I hadn’t seen the pilot before now, a stranger. In seconds, we lifted into the air and headed northwest. Marissa waved a gun in front of my face and ordered both Aria and me to put on our headsets. We complied.
“Don’t even think about trying anything stupid. I have always been ahead of you.” She laughed. “Do you like my pilot? He’s on duty 24-7, ready to take me wherever I want to go in ninety seconds.”
“Marissa.” Aria sounded so frightened. “We won’t tell anyone about what you’re doing.”
She sneered. “Little girl, you have no idea what all I’ve done. Take a look below us. The area is swarming with cops and Feds.”
“You can’t go on like this,” I said. “Turn yourself in.”
“You must think I’m stupid. No one knows the real me. Oh, some think they do. And you’re aware of far too much.”
“Actually, you’re brilliant. A good lawyer would go to bat for you.”
“No thanks.”
“Where are we going?” I fought my fury to think.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
80
DENTON
Miami FBI agents had placed the penthouse building under surveillance since 7p.m., and the police department monitored all floor exits from the building. Quiet permeated the watch, as though the calm before the storm. The time neared 1a.m., when Shelby had timed to make her escape with Aria.
A voice in my earpiece reported hearing the start-up of a helicopter’s turbine engine from the building’s roof. From the pinched look on Mike’s face, he’d been told the same. I raced up the stairs toward the top floor with my firearm in hand. Mike stayed on my heels as he called for backup.
I needed to run into Shelby and Aria on their way down as scheduled. But the possibility of finding them in a pool of blood hadn’t escaped me. I rounded one set of stairs to another until I reached the eleventh floor. Out of breath but undeterred.
Down the hall, the main entrance to Marissa’s penthouse wasclosed. Mike and I took a position on each side of the door. Mike took aim, and I pounded our arrival. “Open up. FBI!”
I twisted the knob. Locked.
Mike and I kicked in the door, much like some of our antics when we were younger.
A quick sweep showed an empty penthouse. Why hadn’t I followed my gut and stopped Shelby from playing a hero? Where were they?
81
SHELBY
Within ten minutes, the helicopter landed atop a parking garage. Two vehicles sped to the chopper’s side. A black SUV and a cream-colored Lexus. Both had dark-tinted windows.
