Chicken Caccia-Killer (A Jordan McAllister Mystery) (25 page)

“Sounds like you’re one of them,” Natalie responded a little sharply before her voice softened. “He’s an old friend, Jordan, and right now, he has no one else to turn to.”

“What about Tina? She must be grieving for her stepmother, too.”

“He gave me the impression he’s worried about her and doesn’t want to add to her emotional state.”

“Worried about her? Why?” Jordan asked, getting more confused by the minute. Was Emilio afraid his daughter would do something crazy or harm herself over this?

“I don’t know. He only said he’d do anything to protect her, and he wants to talk to me.” She paused, as if allowing it all to sink in. “So, will you take me, or do I need to call a cab?”

Jordan mulled this one over for a moment before deciding Natalie would be safer if she had someone with her. “Okay, I’ll get dressed and be over there in thirty minutes.” Even as she said it, she was already praying when Alex found out that she’d helped his mother visit an old boyfriend, he wouldn’t hold it against her.

“Terrific. I’ll be waiting outside.”

Jordan chugged the last of her coffee, shut down her laptop, and took a quick shower. By the time she pulled up in front of Alex’s house, Natalie was pacing back and forth on the front porch. When she saw Jordan’s car, she raced out to greet her.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she said after she was settled in the front seat. “I’ve never seen this side of Emilio before.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Jordan cautioned, stopping before she spilled the beans about Emilio’s visit with Lola the day before. Better to keep that information to herself, along with the suspicion that it was possible Emilio had already known about his wife’s death when Lola read his tarot cards.

“Don’t worry,” Natalie said, reaching over and patting Jordan shoulder. “This won’t turn out badly. I promise.”

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN

There was very little conversation on the drive to the Crown Royale Hotel. Pulling up to the entrance, Jordan couldn’t help glancing at the spot where Marco Petrone had landed when he’d fallen from the balcony. She fully expected to see a chalk outline of a dead body and was disappointed there was none. If she hadn’t witnessed the horrific event, she wouldn’t have guessed that the driveway had once been a crime scene.

“Let the valet park the car,” Natalie said. When Jordan shot her a look, she added, “You drove. I’ll take care of parking.”

“We’ll split it,” Jordan said, not wanting Alex’s mother to think she was cheap. But after spending the extra bucks for the shoes to go with the dress she’d worn to the party, her budget was stretched to the limit.

“Deal.” Natalie stepped out of the car when a young man appeared out of nowhere and opened the door.

Jordan was already out of the car when he attempted to do the same for her, and she handed him the keys. After taking the ticket from him, she and Natalie walked through the exquisite glass doors onto the marble floor where she was reminded once again how luxurious the lobby was.

Natalie slipped her arm through Jordan’s. “Come on. Emilio’s room is on the eighth floor, and he said to come right up when we arrived.”

On the elevator ride up, Jordan tried to dissuade Natalie one last time. “You don’t have to do this, you know.” When Natalie smiled up at her, she finally gave up and added, “Okay, if you suddenly decide you want to leave after we get in there, turn to me and ask if I’ve finished my article for tomorrow’s paper. I’ll make a big deal out of it and say I have to go home.”

“It’s going to be okay, Jordan,” she said, reassuringly. “Emilio is a powerful man to a lot of people, but to me, he’s simply an old friend who needs my support right now. He’s just a big old bear sometimes.”

Jordan was convinced that nothing she said would change Natalie’s opinion of the man. “I get it, but remember our ‘get out of there in a hurry’ signal just in case.”

She still had reservations about coming to Emilio’s hotel room in the first place, and even though Natalie viewed him as harmless, Jordan wasn’t anywhere near convinced. When Alex had first introduced her to Emilio, he’d mentioned the man was connected, and that didn’t happen because he was a ‘big ole teddy bear.’

Emilio opened the door on the first knock, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a jacket that reminded Jordan of what the old-time movies used to call smoking jackets.

He hugged Natalie, then acknowledged Jordan with a nod. “I’m so grateful to you for bringing my friend here today.”

All she could think to do was shrug as she checked out the room. There was a living area off to one side with a large couch and two chairs. An office of sorts filled the other corner with a desk and a computer. The king-sized bed was in the back along with the bathroom, and she could see what looked like a Jacuzzi out on the balcony. Although it wasn’t nearly as big as Marco’s suite had been, the whole area was twice the size of her apartment. She wondered if Emilio really wanted Natalie there for support or if he’d planned a nice quiet hot tub party for two.

While he was making small talk with Natalie, Jordan used the time to study the man who had seemed so overbearing and scary when he’d showed up at her apartment a few nights before. His dark eyes, demanding and threatening then, were now reddened and slightly swollen. Realizing he’d been crying softened her opinion of him, and she felt the ball of fire in her stomach beginning to die down. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as she’d anticipated.

He walked over to a rolling cart beside the couch and took the lids off several trays. “I had room service send these up in case you were hungry,” he explained.

“I’ve already eaten,” Jordan said, still not ready to make nice and break bread with him. Then she made the mistake of glancing toward the uncovered dishes and almost slapped herself.

He caught her looking and smiled. “They’re eclairs. I was told you have a sweet tooth, and it’s my way of thanking you for bringing Natalie here today.”

“Maybe later, Emilio,” Natalie said. “I don’t know how long Jordan can stay because she’s got a deadline for tomorrow’s newspaper. Why don’t we all grab a cup of coffee and sit down?”

Jordan caught the side glance from Natalie and knew she was setting Emilio up in case she decided to bolt.

He walked to the tray and picked up the carafe, but his hands were shaking so badly, he had to set it down again. Natalie was beside him in a flash and motioned for him to move to the couch. Obediently, he did as she’d indicated. Jordan took the cup from Natalie and settled into the chair farthest away from him. Much to her surprise, Natalie sat down beside him and reached for his hand.

“I’m so sorry about Georgette, Emilio. You must be devastated.”

Tears rimmed his eyes. “She was a good woman. I met her a year after my Lillian died of breast cancer. I was struggling to run the business with a two-year-old who demanded every second of my attention. Georgette was like a savior to all of us.”

“I’m sure you loved her very much,” Natalie said, sending another furtive glance Jordan’s way.

Jordan wondered if Natalie was thinking the same thing she was about Georgette sleeping with Marco and whether or not Emilio knew.

“I suppose we were in love in the beginning, but at some point, we just became convenient for each other. She needed stability for Frankie, and I needed help with Tina.” He stopped to take a sip of coffee and nearly spilled it when his hands began shaking again. “Lately, we’d become more like friends than lovers.”

“Sometimes, that can be more important,” Natalie said softly. “Either way, her death must have hit you hard, especially coming so soon after Marco was killed.”

At the mention of the man who would have been his son-in-law, more tears escaped down Emilio’s face. Jordan thought it strange that he showed more emotion for Marco then he had for his own wife.

“I loved that man,” he said. “Even though I knew in my heart he was not the perfect match for Tina. It was obvious he could never be satisfied with just one woman, but I kept hoping he’d change.”

“Tina didn’t love him,” Jordan said, before she could stop herself. She pressed her lips together to keep from saying any more and waited for his angry command to mind her own business—which would be totally justified.

Instead of screaming at her, he lowered his head. “I know. But I don’t have a lot of time here, and I was praying that eventually, her feelings for him would grow.”

“Why was it so important that she marry Marco?” Natalie asked, getting up to refill the coffee cups.

“I’m dying.”

Natalie nearly dropped her cup and was by his side in an instant. “What do you mean you’re dying?”

He swallowed hard before meeting her intense gaze. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the way my hands shake and the way I’m sometimes unsteady on my feet.” When she nodded, he continued, “Last month I went to see my internist, fully expecting him to tell me that I needed to cut down on the stress in my life.”

“And did he?”

Emilio shook his head. “After every test in the book came back negative, he sent me to a specialist at Johns Hopkins.” Emilio bent his head all the way back as if to keep more tears from slipping out. “I have ALS.”

“What the hell is ALS?” Natalie asked, obviously having a hard time keeping her own tears in check.

“Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or Lou Gehrig’s disease to the layperson,” Jordan answered for him, remembering when she was at the University of Texas covering the athletic events on campus. One very prominent ex-jock had developed this disease and had been the focus of many fund-raising events to pay for his care.

Natalie may not have known what ALS was, but as soon as she heard Jordan refer to it as Lou Gehrig’s disease, her mouth formed a perfect circle before clamping shut.

Once again, she reached for Emilio’s hand. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

He shook his head. “ALS is a rapidly progressive disease that attacks the nerve cells responsible for controlling voluntary muscles, like my arms and legs. Eventually, I’ll be confined to a wheelchair and will need a ventilator to breathe.”

Jordan’s mind wandered as Emilio explained the progression of the disease that would eventually kill him. The ex-athlete at UT had died three years after he’d been diagnosed. She’d gone on to research ALS for extra credit in one of her journalism classes and remembered how life-changing it was.

She’d been amazed to discover that ALS affected one to three people out of every one-hundred thousand and usually afflicted more men than women. She’d read that although a small percentage of cases were inherited, the majority of incidences were random without any clear associated risk factors. She wondered which category Emilio fell into, because if it was familial, Tina might want to be tested.

“My doctor has me on a new medicine that’s supposed to slow the progression of the degeneration, but the bottom line is, I’ll die from this disease, whether it’s two or three years down the road...or a little longer.”

Natalie sniffed back the last of her tears. “I understand the urgency to see Tina settled before...” She couldn’t make herself finish. “But for the life of me, I can’t understand why you’d choose someone like Marco for your daughter, knowing what a womanizer he was. You saw how miserable Tina was at the party. It would only have gotten worse.”

Emilio lowered his eyes and sighed. “That was my selfish pride coming out,” he explained. “Since Tina is an only child, I have no one to take over the reins of my company, which has been in the family for generations. Say what you like about Marco, but the man had an incredible business sense. He took a nickel and dime import/export business and turned it into a multimillion dollar venture.”

Jordan stopped herself before she blurted that there might have been another reason for Marco’s success. If what she suspected after hearing Romero Ortiz shake down Frankie O’Brien the other night was true, a more criminal element might explain that achievement.

“What about your stepson?” Natalie asked, making Jordan wonder if she’d read her mind.

Emilio threw back his head and laughed. “Have you met Frankie? Besides the fact that his mother coddled him all his life, that boy couldn’t run a lemonade stand. I’ve tried giving him added responsibility on many occasions, and each time, he found a way to screw it up. As if that isn’t enough strikes against him, he’s an alcoholic who’s failed rehab twice now.” Emilio shook his head. “I have to answer to my daddy and his father before him when I meet up with them again, and believe me, they would not be happy if I left Frankie O’Brien in charge of the shipping empire they’d worked so hard to build.”

“Why not send Tina to business school and let her run the company?” Jordan asked. “I can rattle off the names of many successful women CEOs.”

“That may be true, but I know my Tina. She’s more interested in shopping than sitting at a desk looking over a spreadsheet. That’s why I had Jeff draw up a new will a few weeks ago, naming her husband as my successor.”

“And you were willing to bully her into marrying Marco when she clearly wasn’t in love with him? All for the love of your company?” Natalie tsked. “Come on, Emilio. Even for you, that’s a little heartless.”

“Tina’s in love with another man,” Jordan blurted before clamping her hand over her mouth as if that would stop her from sticking the rest of her foot into it.