Chapter 30
While he waited, Alex watched last night’s ten o’clock news on his phone. “What the hell is this?”
A segment came up showing his face from the fake driver’s license. He’d thought it would happen eventually but not quite yet.
Shit! I have to change my plans right away. I need to hit the open water, get rid of Torrie, then continue south. The cops will be watching the marina, which means I can’t go back there.
Alex searched online for marinas south of Milwaukee. He was sure there was a long waitlist for Navy Pier, but anything over the Illinois state line would work. He would explain to the marina personnel that he’d be staying in Illinois temporarily and needed a slip for only a month.
Enlarging the marina locations on his phone, Alex decided on the Waukegan Harbor and Marina. It was out of Wisconsin, and that was what mattered at the moment. He would secure the slip then get a rideshare to take him back to Manitowoc to pick up the Jeep.
That’ll be a two-hundred-dollar ride but better safe than sorry. Plus, if I don’t return the Jeep to the rental company, that will give the cops another trail to latch onto.
Alex checked the distance by boat, a grueling three to five hours, but he wasn’t about to be picked off by the cops waiting for him to show up in Manitowoc. He had his window of opportunity now, in the early morning hours, and he had to take it.
He made the call to the marina and left his info on their voicemail, saying he would arrive before noon and pay the deposit if they had a slip available. He asked for a text confirmation since he would be out on open water and calls didn’t come through reliably.
With that done, the only thing he could do for the time being, Alex snugged down his ball cap, unloaded the cooler, and secured the backpack to the cooler handle. He remembered wearing the backpack when he’d dumped both Della and Beth. He wouldn’t make identifying himself that easy.
Vehicles were arriving, and the parking lot filled quickly. That was exactly what Alex needed—plenty of people to blend in with while heading to the security gate. The family ahead of him swiped their card and began carrying their gear through.
“Let me give you a hand. I’ll hold the gate open for you,” Alex said, making sure to give them a friendly smile.
The father nodded an appreciative thanks.
The family filed through the gate while Alex kept his hand on it. Gripping his fishing pole and the handle of the cooler, Alex followed right behind them—and nobody was the wiser. He got through without swiping his card.
His boat was moored at the far end of the dock, which was how Alex liked it.
Fewer people meant fewer eyes on him and what he was doing.
He loaded the cooler, backpack, and fishing pole in the boat then untied it and climbed aboard.
Within twenty minutes, he would be in open water with nobody in sight.
Alex had one more person to get rid of to fulfill his client’s contract, and that would take place in a remote location on land. No more water burials, at least for a while.
With no gate card evidence of him passing through that morning, Alex was in the clear. In time, he would sell the boat, which had been purchased using his fake name, a name that wouldn’t lead the cops anywhere.
He planned to sit tight for a few months after the final payment from his client. He would definitely have enough money to live on for quite some time.
Better decisions are always made with clear heads. Every new job begins with a completely different name, address, and appearance. Finding work on the dark web is the easiest way to make money and to scratch that nonstop itch I have.
He backed his boat out of his slip, drove the speed limit out of the No Wake zone, then gunned it toward the sunrise.