Carol Higgins Clark Boxed Set - Volume 1: This eBook collection contains Zapped, Cursed, and Wrecked. (7 page)

C
hip and Georgina were walking up a quiet, darkened section of Park Avenue in the Fifties when his cell phone rang.

Georgina squeezed his fingers. “Don’t answer it.”

He laughed. “Why not?”

“It will ruin the magic.”

“Oh, come on.” Chip pulled the phone out of the case attached to his belt and glanced at the caller ID. “It’s my roommate, Phil. He’s a good guy. This will just take a minute. Hello…”

A feeling of frustration and dread came over Georgina as Chip chatted with his friend. This wasn’t going to be easy tonight even though Chip had been sent to her as a gift. Usually she lured the guys to her car and then drove off with them. She patted her handbag. The knockout drops were in there. Drops she herself used to get to sleep. The small branding iron was in the zippered compartment. And she had her usual supply of lighters. I’m always prepared, she thought.

“You’re where?” Chip asked. “Hey, it sounds great, but I’m with someone. We’re just walking around. I’ll catch you later.”

“So you have a roommate,” Georgina remarked casually, as Chip stuck his cell phone back in its holder. “Where do you live?”

“On East Ninetieth Street. There’s a new bar not far from my apartment that’s really popular. All of our friends go there. We can join them if you want…”

“No,” Georgina said with a smile. “I’d much rather be alone with you.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Chip said as his cell phone started to ring again.

“Why don’t you turn that off?” Georgina asked, trying to sound playful.

“I will,” Chip said as he again glanced at the caller ID. “But this is my mother calling. She probably just wants to see if I’m okay in the blackout.” He pressed the answer button. “Hello, Mom. Mom? We have a bad connection. Let me call you back.” Chip disconnected and then dialed the number of his parents’ summer home in Maine. His mother picked up.

“Chip, honey, are you all right down there?”

“Mom, I’m fine. Did you lose power?”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Well, don’t worry about me. I can’t really talk right now. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

“Are you home?”

“No. It’s too hot to sit in the apartment. Everybody is out on the streets. It’s kind of fun. As long as it doesn’t last too long. Say hi to Dad.”

“Be careful. I love you.”

“Love you too.” When he hung up, he switched off the phone, then turned to Georgina. “No more phone calls. I promise.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Now where are we headed?”

Georgina threw her arms around his neck. “I have a great idea. Why don’t we see if we can pick up a cold bottle of champagne and then sit on one of those benches outside Central Park on Fifth Avenue? It’d make me feel as if we were in a Woody Allen movie.”

“You like Woody Allen?” Chip asked excitedly.

Georgina nodded. “
Annie Hall
is one of my favorite movies of all time.”

“I have all his comedy tapes. He’s hysterical. He’s what got me interested in comedy.” Chip started to laugh. “I already have a bunch of jokes I wrote about being so tall.”

“I can’t wait to hear them.” Georgina massaged his neck and said softly, “Sitting with you on a park bench, sipping champagne, listening to your jokes—what more could a girl ask for?”

Chip gave her a quick hug. “I’m so psyched you’re a Woody Allen fan. The last girl I went out with did not get his humor at all.” He reached up for Georgina’s hands, pulled them from around his neck, and hurriedly started walking her down the block. “I doubt there are any liquor stores open now, but let’s see if we can find a hotel or restaurant that will sell us a bottle to go.”

“Whoopee!” Georgina laughed. “This is going to be so much fun.”

“S
o how are we going to do this?” Lorraine asked Clay.

Clay sighed deeply. He stood, walked over to the window with the gravity of a deep thinker pondering world issues, and stared out at the vast darkness that was Central Park. “Lorraine?” he began in a serious tone as he rubbed his chin.

“Yes.”

“Do you still have keys to the apartment?”

“Why wouldn’t I have keys?” Lorraine asked somewhat impatiently. “Until a couple of hours ago I thought I still lived there. But what good is that going to do us now? They must have changed the locks.”

Clay smiled and shook his head. “Lorraine, Lorraine. Sweetie, they might not have changed the locks yet. Most times people don’t change the locks until a renovation is complete. These people would have no reason to worry that you or the Candy Man would barge back in, now would they?”

“I suppose not. But once they knocked down the wall between the two lofts, their old loft and everything in it is accessible with our keys.”

Clay turned to her and folded his arms. “During renovations people usually make sure all their valuables are locked up. They know that workmen are coming and going all the time. The contractor often has keys. So why bother changing all the locks until the work is all done? There is always someone who can get in. Changing the locks when the job is finished ensures that no one who worked on the place can gain entry at a later date.”

Lorraine jumped up. “You’re brilliant, Clay! It’s so simple, but it took you to figure it out. We have to get down there as soon as possible.”

Clay drank in her praise. It felt good to have someone compliment him these days. It seemed that everyone in his life was on his case about one thing or another. He cleared his throat. “There’s only one thing.”

“What?”

“Is there a chain on the door?”

“No. Conrad and I had talked about getting one but never got around to it. Those locks are heavy duty so we weren’t too worried. I just hope the new owners didn’t put one on.”

“If they didn’t change the locks yet, then I’m sure they wouldn’t have bothered with a chain. Those things are usually puny anyway. First thing we’ll do is try and gain access with your keys. If worse comes to worst and we get caught trying to get in, you can always say that you didn’t believe Conrad. You thought he was bluffing when he said he sold the place.”

“I knew that you were the one to call,” Lorraine said excitedly, as she fluffed up her hair and stretched out her arms like a peacock. “Yessss! You are brilliant! I’ll have those letters back in no time. You’ll have cash in the bank. We’ll celebrate!” Lorraine ran over and gave Clay a meaningful hug, similar to the ones they shared after performing a great scene together in class. You’d have thought they had just negotiated world peace.

Filled with positive energy, Clay joked, “Not that I want to run into these people of course. Who are they? We definitely want to make sure they’re not home.”

Lorraine pulled back from him, her body slumping ever so slightly. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Who are these people who own the apartment now?”

“They’re just a young couple.”

“What do you mean ‘just a young couple?’ Do they have kids? What do they do? What are their habits?”

“They don’t have kids.”

“What do they do, Lorraine? You’re being evasive and, I might add, not a very good actress.”

Lorraine turned, walked back to the bar, poured herself another glass of wine, and forced a few tears to roll down her cheeks.

“Lorraine, what’s wrong?” Clay asked as he hurried to her side.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I know you won’t want to help me.”

“I do want to help you. Let’s face it, I need the cash, and the money I’ll make from selling the jewelry. With any luck that will carry me until I land a series.”

“All right then. But you’re not going to like what I tell you.”

“Try me.”

“He’s the head of the NYPD Major Case Squad. She’s a private investigator. Regan and Jack Reilly are their names.”

Clay blinked. “My mother reads her mother’s books.”

“That’s nice.”

“She was even hoping that I’d somehow meet Regan in New York and we’d hit it off.”

Lorraine rolled her eyes. “Well, you missed out by a few months. She’s taken.”

“I know. It’s hard to meet a nice girl. I’ve had the worst luck. All the girls I’m interested in are looking for somebody who’s rich. If I were a working actor—”

“So our love lives aren’t the best right now,” Lorraine interrupted. “What’s in that safe will help us both with what’s most important to us at this moment—our careers. You’ll have the money to take classes and audition without having to stress out about other jobs. I’ll set those letters on fire and not have to worry about being banished from Hollywood forever.” She sipped her drink. “Then our lives will be on course. I know they will.”

Clay nodded solemnly. “You’re right. This could be a major turning point for both of us. We need to get into that apartment as soon as possible. My rent is overdue.”

“It’s the fourteenth of the month.”

“Don’t remind me.” He snapped his fingers. “We’ve got to get moving. With this blackout, Jack Reilly is probably working. And with any luck Regan isn’t home, either. You don’t have their phone number by any chance, do you?”

“I do!” Lorraine cried excitedly. “I ran into Regan in the hallway about six months ago. It was before she and Jack were married. I told her I’d been waiting for a package that hadn’t been delivered yet and I had to run to an appointment. She offered to accept it for me. We exchanged numbers and promised we’d help each other out with deliveries. I have her number in my cell phone.”

“What is it? I’ll call and see if they’re home.”

“What if they have caller ID?”

“My phone number comes up as anonymous. Besides, you need electricity for caller ID.”

Lorraine quickly grabbed her cell phone off the coffee table, looked up the Reillys’ number, then read it aloud to Clay. As he punched in the number he mumbled, “Hopefully they’re out rescuing people from the subway.”

They both stood quietly as the connection was made and the Reillys’ phone began to ring. Lorraine held her breath as it rang several times. “No machine is picking up because there’s no electricity,” Clay whispered, then added victoriously, “they must not be home!” After several more rings, he snapped his phone shut. “Put on those high heels of yours, and let’s get out of here. It is time for us to seize the day!”

Lorraine almost tripped as she jammed her feet into her shoes. “I am never in my life going to write another letter again,” she said excitedly, “not a letter, not a grocery list, nothing! I’m not putting anything in writing ever again. And as for that future ex-husband of mine, he’s going to regret he did this to me. I’m going to make sure of that!”

“Let’s focus on one thing at a time, Lorraine,” Clay warned her. “You remember what Wendall always told us to do when pursuing our dreams.”

“No matter what anyone says or does to deter you, ignore them. Just keep sweeping the alley. Get the job done.”

“That’s right!” Clay answered with a confidence he didn’t feel. “We have to forget about everything else until we retrieve what’s in that safe. We have to keep sweeping that alley.” He straightened his shoulders as Lorraine grabbed her purse. “Let’s head to Tribeca.”

As they exited the suite, Clay tried to block the image that kept popping up in his mind—the disapproving face of their acting teacher.

“Of course, if you choose the wrong alley to sweep,” Wendall would say with a laugh, “that, my friends, can lead to even bigger problems…”

Clay knew that they were definitely heading up the wrong alley. But, he reasoned to himself, his rent was two weeks overdue.

A
s soon as Regan, Kit, and Billy got back in Regan’s car, Kit called Georgina’s boss, who she’d spoken with earlier. But Dexter’s cell phone went right to voice mail. She then called her co-worker whom she’d dubbed “Gail the Gossip.” Gail reported to her that the whole gang was at the bar of the Gates Hotel, including Dexter.

“I grabbed a table the minute the lights went out,” Gail yelled into the phone. “The hotel is serving warm drinks and whatever food might spoil.”

“We’ll be right over,” Kit told her. “We want to talk to Dexter and any other people who worked with Georgina. Ask them to stay until we get there.”

“Sure thing!” Gail said with excitement. She then attempted to lower her voice. “Dexter is so bummed out.”

“I can imagine,” Kit said wryly. When she hung up, she just shook her head. “They’re at the bar having warm drinks. This girl Gail is something else.”

“As long as she keeps Georgina’s co-workers around, I’ll be happy,” Regan said. “Then if I could just get a look at Georgina’s room…”

Kit wrinkled her nose. “I think it’s on a pretty high floor,”

“I’ll manage. You can wait in the bar with one of those warm drinks.”

“I’ll go up with you, Regan,” Billy offered. “I’m in pretty good shape.”

Kit turned to him. Again he was sitting alone in the back seat. “Aren’t you glad you came to my rescue tonight?”

He smiled at her. “As a matter of fact, I am. And if I can do my part in saving one poor guy from being branded by an insane woman, well then I’m happy. I’m telling you, I’ve dated some weird chicks in my life but…”

“We’ll have to talk when this is over,” Kit said. “I’ve met my share of wackos, too—right, Regan?”

Regan raised her eyebrows. “There were one or two who deviated from the norm, Kit.” She steered the car out onto the darkened street and turned left, heading toward the Gates Hotel. “Why don’t you two start making the phone calls? I have the feeling we’re not going to find our Chip Jones that way, but at least we can eliminate the possibility. So many young kids in the city have cell phones these days that they don’t bother with a home phone. Especially if they have roommates.”

For the next ten minutes, Kit and Billy made the calls. A couple of machines picked up, one woman screamed about being called during the blackout because she had banged into a table trying to locate the phone, and others grunted “Wrong number” and hung up. No one they reached sounded happy-go-lucky.

“So much for that idea,” Regan said when the list had been exhausted. “If we only knew what this guy did for a living. If he wanted to take a comedy class—”

“Those comedy classes are full of people from all walks of life,” Billy said. “And so many of them don’t have the slightest idea how to tell a joke. They know nothing about comic timing.” He leaned forward. “I don’t mean this poor guy doesn’t have talent, but he could have come from anywhere. People don’t realize how hard it is to get up there in front of audiences and make them laugh. Especially on a bad night when the room is full of hostile, angry people.”

“I bet you right now Georgina is laughing at every little witticism Chip Jones utters,” Regan said. “Doing her best to gain his confidence.”

“Fake laughter has always been so obvious to me,” Billy said. “It’s worse than no laughter.”

“But you like what you do, right?” Kit asked him.

“I love it! I’m just trying to help with the investigation. All I’m saying is that this guy could be in any line of work. Some people say they take comedy classes to help their self-esteem. Are they crazy? When no one laughs at your jokes, self-esteem becomes an alien concept!”

“Okay,” Regan interrupted, trying to redirect the conversation. “Kit, your BlackBerry has those information sites, right?”

“Yes.”

“Check and see if there’s a Chip Jones in IMDb. It’s a site that lists people in show business and their credits. If he’s not there, we can rule that out.”

There was no listing for a Chip Jones.

“That settles that,” Regan said as she found a parking space on the street in front of the Gates Hotel. The lobby was a hot, sweaty, candlelit scene of confusion. Overflowing with stranded travelers who couldn’t make it up to their rooms and others who had no way home to the suburbs, it resembled an airport lounge during a snowstorm. People were camped out on the floor. Some were snoozing, others talking, others looked miserable as they quietly fanned themselves.

In the bar, Kit spotted the insurance crowd. They were seated at three tables that had been pushed together in a corner.

Gail waved to Kit. “Come on over,” she called. “I hope you’re not looking for a drink with ice!” She laughed nervously as did a couple of the others who appeared to have already enjoyed several drinks not caring what their temperature was.

At the table, Kit introduced Billy and Regan to her co-workers.

“And,” Gail piped in helpfully, “down at the end are Melanie and Dexter who work with Georgina. It’s so terrible what Georgina does to these guys. Is that sick or what?”

Regan nodded, walked over to the end where Melanie and Dexter were seated, and shook their hands. “Perhaps we could speak outside where it’s not so noisy,” she suggested.

Dexter, a somber-faced man in his forties, with thin, wispy hair, pushed back his chair. “Of course. I’m so glad you’re here. This is a black eye for our company. A terrible day for Ilka’s Insurance. We’re all very upset.”

Melanie doesn’t look upset at all, Regan thought as she glanced at the youthful fresh-faced girl whose blue eyes were sparkling with excitement.

“Do you need any help?” Gail called as Regan, Kit, Billy, Melanie, and Dexter left the noisy bar.

“We’ll let you know,” Kit promised.

In the hallway, Regan spoke quickly. “We’re going to do all we can to find Georgina tonight before she hurts somebody else. But looking for her, especially during a blackout, is tough. We’re pretty sure we have the name of the young man she’s with but we don’t yet know anything else about him. If there’s anything about Georgina that you can think of, please tell me now—even a small detail could be helpful. Dexter, I understand you were the one who received the call this evening about her.”

Dexter scrunched up his mouth mournfully. “The police in Atlanta got in touch with the president of our company after Georgina’s friend was arrested and she implicated Georgina in these other crimes. Naturally, Mr. Blankbucks was greatly troubled and called me immediately. By the time I reached Kit, as you know, Georgina was already out on the town with another potential victim.”

“I gather there isn’t too much doubt that Georgina committed the shoplifting crimes with her friend.”

“No. She hasn’t been convicted of any crimes but they have security tapes that don’t leave much question,” Dexter said.

“And her friend said that she sedates and brands blond men she meets in bars. Is there any proof that she really committed these other crimes?”

Dexter looked at the floor. “There may be. I just received a call from a detective in Atlanta and was about to call Kit when you came in. He is anxious to speak to you, Regan. Georgina’s friend said she’d branded a guy in Miami last month. The Atlanta police got in touch with the Miami police. A guy had come forward and reported the incident but apparently Georgina had already left town. The victim’s arm was a mess. The branding she does is very crude. The police are checking out all the cities her friend said she hit. They’re afraid that many of the other victims are embarrassed to come forward. The victim in Miami had the brand
I AM A SNAKE
on his arm and gave an accurate description of Georgina. Of course, she hadn’t told him her real name.”

“Why did this guy come forward?” Regan asked.

“His wife made him. He was married.”

“Oh, boy,” Billy said.

“What do you know?” Kit harrumphed.

“So it sounds like her friend is telling the truth,” Regan said.

“Yes, ma’am. She’s looking for leniency in the shoplifting crimes.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us about Georgina?” Regan asked. “Melanie, did you know her very well?”

Melanie clasped her hands. “Not really. She hadn’t been working with us very long.”

“Did she ever talk about her family?”

Deep in thought, Melanie curled her lip. “Just once. I was in the break room at the office putting a cake I’d made for my grandma’s birthday in the refrigerator. I was going to her house straight after work. Georgina came in for a cup of coffee and asked me about the cake. When I told her what it was, she looked kind of sad. Usually she had a tough expression, if you know what I mean. She said her grandmother was the only one she was close to in her family, but she’d died when Georgina was twelve. Georgina’s father had died when she was a baby, and her mother was always chasing around after different guys.”

Regan nodded. “Did she say anything about brothers and sisters?”

“She said she was an only child.”

“Do you know how old Georgina is?”

“Twenty-seven,” Dexter answered.

“What was your impression of her?” Regan asked him.

He shrugged. “I have to say I’m shocked. I would never have suspected this of her.”

“Okay. Can I get the number of that detective in Atlanta?”

“Sure.” He reached in his pocket, pulled out a slip of paper, and handed it to Regan.

“Thanks. If there’s anything else that either of you think of that might be helpful, please call me.” Regan gave them her number. “One more thing,” she said. “Kit knows what Georgina looks like. But Billy and I don’t. By any chance do you have a picture of her?”

“Yes!” Melanie cried. “I took one with my cell phone during the cocktail party earlier.” She slid her shoulder bag off her arm and scrambled to get out her phone. Flipping it open, she quickly pulled up the photos she’d taken only hours before. “Here she is!”

Billy and Regan peered at the picture. The offbeat yet attractive Georgina was standing next to Dexter with a big smile on her face.

“Here’s another!” Melanie cried.

It was a closeup of Georgina. There’s definitely something weird going on behind those eyes, Regan thought. “Melanie, thank you. That’s a big help.”

“Can I come with you to look for her?” Melanie asked imploringly.

“I’m afraid not,” Dexter said quickly. “Your safety is my responsibility. The boss wouldn’t be too happy if something happened to you.”

“I’ll tell you what you can do,” Regan said to Melanie. “I’m going to see if hotel security will let me take a quick look at her room. You can come with me and see if anything up there triggers your memory. Then if you would be willing to sit in the lobby of this hotel and let me know if Georgina comes back, that would be great.”

Melanie looked askance. “But then it would be too late! She wouldn’t bring the guy back here. Especially if she dumped all the others on the side of the road. She’d get caught.”

“You have a point, Melanie. But if she left this guy unconscious somewhere in New York City there’s always the danger something more serious will happen to him. And the blackout complicates things. We want to catch up with her as soon as possible, no matter what.”

“Okay, Regan,” Melanie said. “I’ll sit in the lobby all night if I have to.”

“I’ll join you,” Dexter said.

“Great,” Regan answered. “Now let’s find hotel security. Do you happen to know what floor Georgina’s room is on?”

“The forty-second!” Melanie chirped. “Wouldn’t you know she managed to snag the best room of all of us?”